THE THAMBIRAPARNI

By Prof. A. Srinivasa Raghavan, M.A.

A FAINT mist, luminous and iridescent, hangs in the West and through it, outlined in fairy blue against the Western sky, is seen the Agastya Peak. To the right, the hills lie in a low unbroken chain and, on the left, a five-pronged peak sprawls like a broken trident held aslant by the spirit of the mountains. This is Pothigai, the home of the sage Agastya, patron-saint of Tamil art and letters and symbol of Tamil achievement and culture. This is also the home of the river Thambiraparni, smallest of famous rivers.

It is a small river. You will smile if you know how small it really is. From the Pothigai hills in the Western Ghats where it springs, to the sandflats of Punnaikayal where it meets the Eastern sea, it is only 75 miles long and, at its broadest, at Srivaikuntam, it is less than half a mile across. Compared with it, the Godavari is a giant and the Cauvery, though small, is still nearly six times longer. But to the Tamils, this little river is something sacred, its cool, clear waters are replete with legend and history and sentiment. It is, to them, along with the Cauvery and the Vaigai, the river of destiny.

If you linger on a moonlit night on the Thambiraparni sands and yield yourself to the witchery of the hour, the stream will whisper to you its age-long secrets. Long, long ago, before the dawn of history, a race of dwarfs dwelt on its banks. They have now disappeared from this region. What rack of time it was that dislimned them is not definitely known. That they lived here is indicated to us by the melancholy remains dug out of a swell of the earth at Athichanallur on the right bank of the river, some 13 miles from Tirunelveli. Pear-shaped urns containing human bones, a few containing complete skeletons, have been found here. Buried round about the urns, sometimes within them; were iron swords, daggers and lances, agricultural implements, iron tripods and lamps. A bronze mirror and figurines of dogs, cocks and buffaloes found among the remains show that the ancient dwarfs were not untouched by vanity or untroubled by the tumultuous instinct for beauty.

After the dwarfs, the Thambiraparni basin has been the home of the Tamils, and one of the chief centres of Tamil culture. It cannot be said that the spacious leisure that the bounty of the river certified, remained unbroken all through the centuries. There were alarums and excursions of course, and the heavy tread of armed men broke the tranquil seclusion of the river often enough. But these came in the later centuries of its history. Earlier, the Thambiraparni or Porunai as it was called, was one of the rivers over which the Pandyas held sway. One of the speculations about the origin of the Pandyas has it that the founder of the dynasty came from Korkai near the mouth of the river. When in the sixth and the seventh centuries, the Pallavas and the Chalukyas reduced the Pandyas to the status of vassals, the quiet of the river was not appreciably disturbed and the people of Thenpandinadu kept the even tenor of their way apparently untouched by the mad struggles that developed in the north. In the eighth century, the Pandyas gained their independence only to he reduced to feudatory chiefs two centuries later, by the expanding Chola empire. For a while, the Thambiraparni came to be known as Mudikonda Chola Peraru, that is, the river of the Chola conqueror. But the Chola conquest did not alter the life of the people. On the contrary, Chola initiative and the vigour of Chola administration only served to strengthen the religious fervour that the centuries immediately preceding had brought. A number of temples sprang up all along the river, older shrines of the days of the Pandyas were enlarged and renovated, and the plain between the western hills and the sea became studded with mantapams and towers lifting their shapeliness in mute adoration to the Infinite and serving as nurseries of poetry, music and dancing and of ethical and philosophical speculation. And the old river flowed among them murmuring praise.

After the decline of the Pandyas, there was a short period of Moslem rule initiated by the southern conquests of Malik Kafur, General of Allaudin Khilji. Then came the Nayaks of Vijayanagar and the four centuries of their rule were filled with internal dissensions and external aggression. In the middle of the 18th century, the British appeared on the stage and their attempt to reduce the Polygars is a tangled tale of heroism and ruthlessness, treachery, hatred, and destruction. The peace of the old river was broken and when it was restored early in the 19th century, it was no longer the energising quiet of the earlier period but something of the stillness of the grave. The soullessness of foreign rule had set in, and it took more than a hundred years for the valley, as for the rest of the country, to recover and come to life again.

It will thus be seen that the Thambiraparni (the river of the red leaves) or the Thambiravarni (the copper-coloured river) as it is sometimes called, does deserve equally its old name of Porunai (the agreeable river). Its sequestered valley sheltered the people who dwelt there from the ‘madding crowd’s ignoble strife.’ Its waters, the gift of both the monsoons, spread plenty over a land, small it is true, but smiling and fruitful. On its banks, therefore, developed a thoroughly indigenous culture, essentially Tamil in origin and outlook. This does not mean that the Thambiraparni region did not have stimulating contacts with the outside world. In every early times, Punnaikayal at the mouth of the river, was a famous port and the wealth of the mountain slopes and the plain–teak, sandal, peacock feathers, rice, sugar, ginger, and spices–flowed through it to far-off China in the east and to Greece and Rome and Arabia in the west. At the height of the Pandya power, there were embassies in China, Arabia, and Rome. Marco Polo, Prince of Wanderrers, is supposed to have visited the region towards the close of the 13th century. Vira Pandya and Jatavarman Sundara Pandya are mentioned by him as also by Mahommedan historians. Earlier, during the days of the Pallavas, the influence of the magical fusion of Tamil and Sanskrit at Kanchi spread to the banks of the Thambiraparni and flowered as mystical poetry and religious sculpture and architecture. Nayak rule brought Andhra settlers to the valley, Muslims had already their villages near the mouth of the river and, a little later, Christian missionary settlements rose in the coastal belt, north and south of the river. The culture of the Thambiraparni, therefore, is like that of the rest of the Tamil land, a composite one. But with this difference. The Thambiraparni valley was far removed even in Pandya days from the courts of kings and escaped the sophistication and pomp of capital cities. Its cultural development had nothing forced, artificial, and temporary about it. The larger world outside visited the valley only like the monsoon clouds. And like the clouds, it had to convert itself into the native stream before it reached the people and enriched their life. Even today, the people of the Thambiraparni are lovers of the simple life and their customs and dialect bear the strongest impress of the days of old Tamil. Words like and are current there today. The women attending a wedding ceremony raise shrill cries of joy together and remind us of the of the Sangam Age. Many of the villages have still their ancient system of ‘kaval’ families are spoken of as fields and groves are rich with the folk-songs that must have suggested the ‘Pallu’ and the ‘Kuravanji’ to the poet; moonlit nights are tremulous with the strange ecstasy of ‘Villu Pattu.’

And yet, this valley has produced some of the finest specimens of the eclecticism which is the glory of our land. It was at Kuruhoor on the Thambiraparni that the Vaishnava saint, Nammalwar, launched his profound reflections on the Ultimate and sang those verses which are considered to enshrine the Vedas and the Upanishads. Under the venerable tamarind tree where Nammalwar, according to tradition, sat all his life, the north and the south met and triumphed over space and time. Saivism and the river gave us Kumaragurupara who carried to distant Varanasi the message of the south. Through the centuries, a succession of poets kept the Tamil literary tradition alive and it was this environment that produced the greatest of modern Tamil poets, Subramanya Bharathi. Patient scholarship both in Tamil and in Sanskrit flourished there. Some of the most valuable manuscripts of old works have come to us from the Puja-grahams of unpretentious Thambiraparni homes. Muslims like and foreigners like Father Beschi and Bishop Caldwell were inspired by this tradition and became students and patrons of Tamil letters. The architecture of the temples of the Thambiraparni area and the sculpture are equally eclectic. Traces of different styles are to be found in the architecture. In the field of sculpture, while there are magnificent specimens of symbolism in stone and in bronze, some of the stone figures in the temples of Krishnapuram and Tenkasi point to the emergence of a realism that, unfortunately did not develop to ifullest.

Gentle, peace-loving, a little reticent and shy, staunch as the Pothigai hills in their faith in tradition, parochial on the surface yet keen and eclectic, the people of the Thambiraparni are what the river has made them. It is not surprising that they love the river intensely and speak of it as the garland of red flowers that the sage Agastya offered as homage to Lord Shiva. One of their poets grows eloquent as he thinks of the breeze from the Agastya peak and of the cool, life-giving waters of the river. –“Who can equal us” asks the poet –“We have breathed,” says he, “the air of the hills; we have bathed in the waters of the Thambiraparni and risen sinles and pure. In the whole world, is there anyone so fortunate as ourselves?”

This is not the idle panegyric of an enthusiast. The fame of the Thambiraparni is celebrated in the Mahabharatha and also in the inimitable word of Valmiki: “Like a maid with her lover, she with her waters and islets concealed beneath beautiful sandal trees, bathes in the sea.” The immortal Kalidasa sings of it in his Raghu Vamsa and speaks of it as the region of the pearl. Small like the pearl and equally priceless, symbol of purity, grace, and beauty, the Thambiraparni is to the Tamils the river of Agastya, the undying emblem of an ancient and living culture.¹

¹ By courtesy of All India Radio, Madras.

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