Pey Nayanar
On a dark night, the poet Karaikaal Ammaiyar, who is supposed to have lived in the 6th century A.D., went to the crematorium — a shunned space then and now — to watch Lord Shiva dance. Her impressions would take the form of two classic ten-verse poems “Patikams from Tiruvaalangadu.” She describes the eerie silence of the night punctuated by screams of wild animals, nocturnal birds, and ghouls – frightening and frightened, in turn – all trying to make a meal from this buffet of roasting corpses. In this signature work, she gives herself the pen name “pey,” which is the Tamil word for ghoul or “one possessed.”
Ammaiyar is counted among the 63 Saivite saints collectively known as Nayanars. There are only three women saints in that parade, but even among them Ammaiyar is a standout thanks to her outré devotion and the fact that she is a writer of innovative poems. (The other two women are: Isaignaniyar who was co-opted into sainthood by virtue of being Sundara Nayanar’s mother and Mangayarkkarasiyar, a Pandiyan queen, who took the help of her minister, Kulachirai Nayanar, to re-convert her Jain husband to Saivism.)
What is Karaikaal Ammaiyar’s story? According to the group biography of the 63 saints, the PeriyaPuranam, Ammaiyar was born into a wealthy merchant family, and she married into another one in the prosperous seaside town of Karaikaal. The beautiful woman was a loving wife. Still, at one point, it became apparent to the husband that Lord Siva was her one true love. One day, the husband left home under the pretense of a business trip and never came back. Later, relatives discovered that he had set up another household in a different town. So, he came over on a brief visit to see his wife. He confessed that he was far too much in awe of her and apologized for leaving abruptly. But he had no plans of coming back to live with her. These words had the effect of liberating her and Ammaiyar set out to Mount Kailasa, the home of Lord Siva.
Ammaiyar decided to stop tending to her appearance. She shaved off her tresses, grew lean with penance, and wore simple attire because Lord Siva would recognize her anyway. For her bronze idol, the Chola master sculptors seem to have taken inspiration from her own description of a wild woman in the cremation grounds with “sagging breasts/ swollen veins/ A skeleton with a pair of sunken eyes/Blood-red gums/ teeth jutting out.” Ammaiyar may have taken some practical steps to spurn the curious gaze of fellow travelers, but it is hard to believe that she prayed for, and took on, the form of a withered woman overnight. More likely, she grew old and withered over time like everyone else.
The poet wrote: “Whoever dances, through His Grace/ These ten verses sung by me/ Ghoul from Karaikaal with mouth/ Of fire and crooked teeth, Will be rid of all sins.” There is also the suggestion that her patikam was meant for an elaborate song-and-dance performance. Yet, no modern Bharatanatyam production features this fierce Nayanar, who scorned the body image which patriarchy demands of women. There is a sophomoric version of the night at Tiruvaalangadu in a Tamil film from the 1970s. (Ammaiyar, the family woman, is played by National Award-winning actress Lakshmi, while the saint is played the much older K. P. Sundarambal.)
Without the legend of turning old or ugly overnight, Karaikaal Ammaiyar could still be the patron saint of solo women travelers. Though heaven knows it hasn’t gotten that much easier for a woman to be out in the world on a personal quest of discovery even in the present century.
Patikam 1
from Tiruvaalangadu,
Translated by H.S. Shiva Prakash
1
Where elava, ekkai, karai
And surai grow in abundance,
Where, grabbing the guts of dead ones,
Gobbling them up, surrounded
By countless corpses, ghouls,
Their eyes throbbing like drums,
Go on singing their songs,
Look! The Handsome One is dancing.
2
Where marrow melts and wet the earth,
Where ghouls with long teeth
And sunken eyes dance tunankai,
Extinguish blazing pyres
And gormandize corpses
To their souls content, amidst such
Joyous sports, a torch blazing in His hand,
Look! The Handsome One is dancing
3
Where jackals tug at stinking
White skulls punctured by birds
Where owls hoot, owlets spread
Their wings and barn owls look
Frightening, foxes flit about
Howling, He chooses to dance
In such a charnel house, the Lord,
Whose name is Cremation Ground.
4
Is this corpse really dead?
Testing it with his finger, the ghoul
Gives a yell and, throwing a firebrand
At it, starts to flee in terror
So do other ghouls, beating
Their bellies with bewilderment
They too take to their frightened heels
In such a fearsome wilderness
The Supreme One goes on dancing
5
Withered mulli; charred wood;
Brains bursting out of skulls;
In forests filled with withered cacti
And full of wood apple trees,
With spotted antelope skin on,
And tiger’s hide dangling
Down His shoulder, in such a wilderness
The Supreme One goes on dancing.
6
Where owlets of many colours
With shining and crooked beaks
Feed on skulls and brains of corpses
And go round howling,
Their hair out like toddy fronds,
The burning charcoal-eyed ghouls
Are making music with flutes
The Handsome One is dancing.
7
Scratching up charred corpses
But unable to find any flesh,
Owlets are fast asleep
Bad times for ghouls!
Ah, muluvam music of gods
Keeping step with its notes
Alongside the retinue of ghouls
The Handsome One is dancing.
8
Where lofty bamboos scatter pearls
Where burning dead bodies crackle
Giving out sparks, disheveled
And screaming ghouls eat
Dead fetuses to their heart’s content,
As the daughter of mountains
Is watching on,
The Great Magician is dancing
9
Where monkeys frolic about
Amidst bamboo groves,
Ghouls, eagles, white skulls
And smoke of pyres abound
As the crooked moon sways
White tuti and parai resound
Listen! Kol, the first note
The Supreme One is dancing
10
Sunken-bellied dwarfish ghouls,
And grown up ones with mouths of flame
Are rife in wilds drowned by indai
Ghouls with teeth jutting out
Are thrilled and angered by turns
Eyeing their young. Listen!
Kol, the first note. With matted hair scattered,
The Pure One is dancing.
11
Wearing the moon in the matted locks
He is dancing His spiral dance
The snake at the waist too is dancing
Whoever dances, through His Grace,
These ten verses sung by me,
Ghoul from Karai with mouth
Of fire and crooked teeth,
Will be rid of all sins.
Patikam 2
from Tiruvaalangadu