Kaliyan !

Plundering the Divine!
Is it possible?
Waylaying the Way?
Stealing the Truth?
Through open loot the Eternal Life? 
But who knows the ways of the divine?
It happily lends itself
it enjoys the scene
it becomes gullible
and lo! at the end...
the looter is looted
the robber is robbed
the waylayer is laid on the Way;
all because of one fatal mistake
or one destined act of right?

what is the mystic mantra?
Hey you the Bridegroom?
what have you chanted?
come on! give it!
or else...

yea my child
I am waiting for this
this very request
or demand
or order
which way you like
this is my charm
this is my talisman
give thine ear.
for it is a secret of secrets;
to tell in public
may not work;

Kaliyan! be careful!
don't go so deep!
you are into a noose!
don't bend!
don't hear that charm!
don't believe that soft guy!
be sharp man! be sharp!
No way no way
already he has lost his way
or found his only way.
Plundering the Divine!
Is it possible?
to waylay the Way?

***

A stand-alone poem of praise - Thaniyan

Nothing else do we want, my mind !
nothing else;
Just talk about that great person
called 'the dust of the feet of devotees'
talk of him again and again; 
He hath sung the poem 'Tirumaalai'
on the Divine Feet of the Rampart Ranga
who has tended cows and oxen.

*

How many polarities are inscribed here in this four-liner! The poem starts media res, as if breaking a revery or cogitation. As if the debate is going on which means to adopt? this or that or yet again another? which will suffice?

No nothing else, just this alone is enough. Just talk talk talk about that great person.

What is his name?

Dust.

What? Dust? What is this?

Yea Dust of the feet of devotees of God.

People may go and plan and buy foot-wear. But nobody will plan and affix dust to their feet. The dust gets stuck to the feet. The feet just walk. Dust was not in its plan. Like that people who are mad after God will go and stick themselves to the company of Godly persons. Even the Godly persons may be unaware of them. But no bother! Such are the real great persons. Talk about them and talk about him.

Again he has made a garland, a garland of poetry. On Tirumaal. Here is a pun on Tirumaal. Tirumaal is Sri Vishnu. But in Tamil tirumaalai is the sacred garland.

Sung on whom?

On the Rampart Ranga, majestic in His great walled-in spectacular Temple.

But what does He do?

Cattle-rearing. Tending cows and oxen, Shepherding.

Puuu... shepherding?..

Yea the souls across the pastures of Time. Is it not enough a theme? Of course we need not break our heads about That ...The Person in the Rampart. Just it is enough, yea it is enough to talk about this great person called Dust of Devotees' Feet.

Just that?

Yea.... and you can sense as time proceeds, the Divine will egg His way into us, amidst us, deep, around, surround and immerse us. He is the great eavesdropper !

***

Shame

My Lord! My Lord!
My soul craves for the home-return
Foolish of me to have run away
But in your eternal grace
never once you have given me up 
but kept to me close apace
I have been rude to Thee
unruly idiot child that am I
But you laughed and laughed
and pulled me closer and closer to Thee
I don't deserve this my Lord!
and how can I ever repay
though I understand I belong to Thee
yet my shame eats me up
and I drop my face down before Thee.

***

The flute

The flute the flute is on the air
nowhere seen
no lips across the firmament
but the flute the flute is on the air
makes one restless by the surge.

The loot the loot is on the soul
inner vision bright as light
enchanting smile plays the heart
bounty of meanings springing forth
makes ecstatic the fluting soul.

***

A pot..

A pot!
Does it have a mouth to praise
God's glory?
does it have the heart to think of Thee
O Lord! 
Can it come to you in the morn and even
and worship you?
Does it have a body?
O Aranga! You are the Lord of the Town
surrounded by ponds
teeming with
large blossoms in array;
Tell me please!
when Dadhipaanda (curd-pot seller)
met you then
how on that day
his pot also got liberation?
A pot!

***
(Tr from Pillaip Perumalaiyengar)

After all...

After all it is better,
yea it is better after seeing all,
to be ordinary,
to be clumsily this and that
and not too much heady into anything; 
yea, it is far better
to be modest
to be interested
and not go passionate
over this and that
and get your vision blind-folded;
yea it is far more better religion
to be humane, friendly with all,
be curious and appreciative
of all peculiarities
rather than being austere
exclusive
long-faced;
being average with contentment
far exceeds any manna from heaven;
common sense seems to be
far better than all books of old,
cold with the fury of gods;
the warmth of the human hearth
far exceeding any elixir of the divine;
the sight of the human
is far more soothing;
daily dawns in the rural yards
are much more assuring
of the happy sleep
of our toiled bodies
and our enjoying, thinking minds,
informing us of the world,
yea the daily dirty world
we live in
day in and day out.
sometimes the dirt is more homely
than the golden pour from heavens.

***