Religious Devotion and the Poetics of Reform: Love and Liberation in Malayalam Poetry 9781138477995, 9781351103619

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Religious Devotion and the Poetics of Reform

The poetry emanating from the bhakti tradition of devotional love in India has been both a religious expression and a form of resistance to hierarchies of caste, gender, and colonialism. Some scholars have read this art form through the lens of resistance and reform, but others have responded that imposing an interpretive framework on these poems fails to appreciate their authentic expressions of devotion. This book argues that these declarations of love and piety can simultaneously represent efforts toward emancipation at the spiritual, political, and social levels. This book, through a close study of Naḷini (1911), a Malayalam lyric poem, as well as other poems authored by Mahākavi Kumāran Āśān (1873–1924), a lowcaste Kerala poet, demonstrates how Āśān employed a theme of love among humans during the modern period in Kerala that was grounded in the classical Sanskrit and native South Indian bhakti understanding of love of the deity. Āśān believed that personal religious freedom comes from devotion to the deity and that love for humans must emanate from love of the deity. In showing how devotional religious expression also served as a resistance movement, this study provides a new perspective on an understudied area of the colonial period. Bringing to light an underexplored medium, in both religious and artistic terms, this book will be of great interest to scholars of religious studies, Hindu studies, and religion and literature, as well as academics with an interest in Indian culture. George Pati is the Surjit S. Patheja Chair in World Religions and Ethics and is Associate Professor of Theology and International Studies at Valparaiso University, USA. His research interests include religious literature in the Malayalam language, South Asian devotional traditions, and the mediation of Hindu devotion through texts, rituals, and performances of Kerala, South India.

Religious Devotion and the Poetics of Reform Love and Liberation in Malayalam Poetry George Pati

First published 2019 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2019 George Pati The right of George Pati to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record for this book has been requested ISBN: 978-1-138-47799-5 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-351-10361-9 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Apex CoVantage, LLC

Contents

Acknowledgments A note on transliteration and translation

vi viii

1

Introduction: themes, theories, and trajectories

1

2

Place: caste, colonialism, and reforms in Kerala (1870–1924)

16

3

Person: Mahākavi Kumāran Āśān (1873–1924)

34

4

Poetics of devotion: bhakti as devotion

52

5

Poetics of reform: bhakti as a movement

78

6

Conclusion

107

Appendix 1: transliterations of Malayalam poems Appendix 2: translation of Naḷini or Oru Snēham (1911) Index

113 150 175

Acknowledgments

This work embodies the love of God and humans, and I am immeasurably indebted to a network of scholars, teachers, colleagues, friends, and family, both here and in India. I first learned about bhakti, devotional poetry, when I was studying at the United Theological College, Bangalore, and I wish to acknowledge Professor David C. Scott, who introduced me to the academic study of religion and bhakti. Since then, I have been fascinated by bhakti poetry and its embodiment in different forms. I take delight in acknowledging those who have supported and guided me in understanding various aspects of bhakti, the Malayalam language, and Kerala context. The ideas for this book were generated during my Ph.D. research at Boston University and submitted as dissertation. Since then the dissertation has gone through a number of substantial changes before taking the form of this book. At the outset, I wish to thank Frank Korom and Lucien Richard (Boston University), Thomaskutty Lazar (University of Calicut), and Caroline Osella (SOAS, University of London), for their mentoring and support during the doctoral research. My research in India was facilitated through various institutions: University of Kerala, University of Calicut, Mahatma Gandhi University, Kumāran Āśān Memorial in Thonnackal, Kerala Council for Historical Research, and Center for Development Studies. I have benefited from the guidance of Professors M. G. S. Narayanan, Scaria Zacharia, Samuel Nellimukal, D. Benjamin, K. N. Panikker, P. J. Cherian, Venugopal Panikker, Rammohan Nair, V. J. Varghese, J. Devika, and Ashok Alex Philip. I am extremely grateful to Shinoy Jesinth, professor at Malabar Christian College, Kozhikode, and a friend, who has been a constant support during my research trips to Kerala. I am thankful to the many libraries and their staff who have gone beyond their call of duty to help me acquire documents and artifacts necessary for this project. In particular, I express my gratitude to the library and office staffs at the Department of Malayalam and Department of Oriental Studies and Manuscriptology, University of Kerala, University of Calicut, Kerala Council for Historical Research, State Archives in Trivandrum, Kerala Sahitya Academy, Trissur, Center for Development Studies, Trivandrum, Sanskrit College in Kolkata, the British Library in Trivandrum, Mugar Memorial Library, Boston University, and the Inter-library

Acknowledgments vii Loan Department at Valparaiso University. I wish to record my thankfulness to M. P. Subhash, Director, Kumāran Āśān Memorial; P. Chandramohan, Nehru Memorial Library and Museum at Teen Murti Bhavan in New Delhi; and G. Priyadarshan, Malayalam Manorama in Kottayam. During the writing of this book, I have benefited from the insights and wisdom from scholars and colleagues at various occasions. I thank John Hawley, Rachel McDermott, Knut Jacobsen, Tracy Pintchman, Corrine Dempsey, Diana Dimitrova, Jon Keune, Gil Ben-Herut, and Abhishek Ghosh. Karen Pechilis has always encouraged my enthusiasm to study bhakti from the beginning of this project. I am indebted to Anne Monius, who read an earlier version of this entire manuscript and offered invaluable suggestions. None of the research for this project would have been possible without the generous institutional and financial support of The University Professors Program at Boston University, Research Fellowship and Summer Travel Grant at Valparaiso University, and the Surjit S. Patheja Chair in World Religions and Ethics, Valparaiso University. In the course of writing this book, my colleagues at Valparaiso University have encouraged me in this endeavor, for which I am thankful. The editorial team at Routledge have been very encouraging of this project from the very outset, and I am thankful to Joshua Wells, Editor for Religion at Routledge, and Jack Boothroyd, editorial assistant at Routledge, for their excellent help patiently responding to my queries and in the preparation of this volume. I am also very thankful to the many anonymous reviewers who offered constructive and positive suggestions. I thank a large network of family and friends in India and in the United States who have supported and encouraged me from the conception of this project to its culmination. My father, Sushil, who is no longer there to see this book, and mother, Rachel have taught me the first lessons of bhakti as devotion, and it is their love that encouraged me on this path. My in-laws, G. M. John and Thankamma, have supported me in innumerable ways at different stages of this entire process of research and writing. My wife, Suja, has shown unwavering support, and our children have patiently endured with me through the writing of this book and always engulfed me with their snēham, love. I dedicate this book to this network of loving relationships.

A note on transliteration and translation

This book includes Malayalam, Sanskrit and Tamil languages, and I have transliterated these languages as per the standard systems. However, in some cases Malayalam transliteration can be challenging and in those cases I have followed accepted forms of expression in accordance with the Malayalam lexicon. In the case of proper names, I have used both with and without diacritics. For instance, Śrī and Sree or Nārāyaṇa and Narayana. All the Malayalam translations are my own.

1

Introduction Themes, theories, and trajectories

snēhamāṇakhilasāramūḻiyil snēhasāramiha satyamēkamāṁ, mōhanaṁ bhuvanasaṅgamiṅṅatil snēhamūlamamalē! veṭiññu ñān. Love is the essence of everything in the universe, nothing less than this essence of love is the only truth. The world’s touch entices, but O pure one, I renounce it for this deeper love. —Kumāran Āśān, Naḷini, 136

The bhakti tradition of devotional love has been both a powerful religious expression and an important form of resistance to hierarchies of caste and colonialism among high-caste and low-caste Hindus in India. Histories of India written in the 19th century and in most of the 20th century classified regional bhakti traditions as reform movements with a message of social equality. In the past few decades, however, scholars have celebrated works like Mahākavi Kumāran Āśān’s Naḷini (1911) exclusively as romantic, showing a lack of appreciation for the lyric poem from a religious and resistance trajectory. Thus, while many scholars have read low-caste art through the lens of reform, others have argued that imposing an interpretive framework of resistance on regional low-caste communities fails to appreciate their intended religious meaning and fails to recognize bhakti as devotion and a movement toward liberation from the caste system. I pay attention to these interpretive tensions in readings of the lyric poem by Kumāran Āśān (1873–1924), a low-caste Kerala poet, composed during the colonial period of Kerala. Tucked into the southwestern tip of peninsular India is the small state of Kerala, which natives call “God’s own Country,” a description used in tourist brochures, due to the abundance of its natural resources, particularly spices. Kerala’s complex trade, migration, and emigration histories, both inland and maritime, have added complexity and diversity to its socioreligious, cultural, and literary realms. Kerala was well connected with other parts of the world through sea routes, and trade connections were well established, as well. As a result, there was an influx of Jewish,

2

Introduction

Christian, and Arab merchants who brought along with them their religion and culture that added to the complexity and diversity of its socioreligious, cultural, and literary traditions. Later, with the influx of British colonial rule, traditional customs and practices were questioned, giving rise to modernity in colonial Kerala. During this time, Kerala society rigidly practiced untouchability and unapproachability. Āśān was a member of the low-caste Īzhava and a product of this colonial period of Kerala. Amid this dehumanization based on caste division, he composed poems in his mother tongue of Malayalam. He wrote during the rise of Indian nationalism, socioreligious reform, and an influx of Western ideas in India. Invoking Western romanticism as well as bhakti as devotion, and deploying bhakti as a social movement, Āśān challenged and created a consciousness of the skewed power dynamics of caste and class. Āśān became known as one of the great poets of modern Kerala. The Prince of Wales awarded Āśān the silk shawl and gold bracelet in 1922, an Indian custom of honoring someone, in recognition of his outstanding literary works. The central concern of this book, Religious Devotion and the Poetics of Reform, is a close reading of poems authored by Āśān during Kerala’s colonial period, particularly Naḷini, to explore these questions: Can Āśān’s expression of love or snēham be considered an embodiment of bhakti that represents his efforts toward emancipation at the spiritual, political, and social levels? Can he be considered one of the poets of modern Kerala, one who epitomizes bhakti as devotion and social movement? Does Āśān’s bhakti as devotion form the substratum for his bhakti as a movement for social change in modern Kerala illustrated through his later poems? This book demonstrates how Āśān employed a theme of love among humans during the modern period in Kerala that was grounded in the classical Sanskrit and native South Indian bhakti understanding of love of the deity. Āśān believed that personal religious freedom comes from devotion to the deity and that love for humans must emanate from love of the deity. In other words, Āśān’s bhakti as devotion finds meaning in love as a social movement in modern Kerala. In showing how devotional religion also served as a reform movement, this study attempts to provide a new perspective on an understudied area of the colonial period: Kerala and Malayalam literature. I follow Jonathan Z. Smith’s (1982) emphasis that religion must be comprehended as conventional, anthropological, historical, and an act of reflective imagination. As Robert Orsi (2005:2) states, “religion can be best understood as a network of relationships between heaven and earth involving humans of all ages and many different sacred figures together.” I thus understand love in this study as a union, a network of relationships, that transcends alienating strategies of “othering” and develops instead a new “self ” in the identification of and a loving union with the divine. The concepts of “Other” and

Introduction 3 “Othering” are complex terms widely discussed and employed in postcolonial and poststructuralist approaches, I use “othering” in the term of hegemonic caste hierarchies that neglected the lower-caste groups demonstrating power relations and considering them as “the other.” Caste oppression and colonialism demonstrate such power dynamics of “othering.” As Diana Dimitrova (2014) in her examination of religion, literature, and film in South Asia asserts “otherism” and “othering” taking place at all levels of human condition and is not only prevalent to Western thought and spaces but is endemic in Hindu/Indian society and culture. Though I engage with postcolonial theory to understand the low-caste poet’s intention, this book primarily concerns itself with bhakti religion in early twentieth century Kerala, and draws on literature from religious studies. Jonathan Z. Smith (2004) argues that “even in theological discourse and imagination, where the notion of the “totally Other” is the most strongly maintained, the distinction can never be held to be absolute” (Smith 2004:241). Anantanand Rambachan states that in Advaita philosophy, ignorance produces “othering” when one considers “the other” as different than the self (Rambachan 2015). This understanding is significant for Āśān’s utopian vision. I explore themes and theories of bhakti, and I discuss love in Āśān’s poems. Bhakti poets in Sanskrit and regional languages have associated bhakti as love of God, as well as knowledge of God, a religious path to salvation, and social movements that promoted egalitarianism in society. However, bhakti has also reinforced sectarian boundaries and endorsed caste distinctions. The following sections discuss the themes and theories of bhakti and the trajectory of the book.

Themes and theories of bhakti There are different understandings of the term bhakti. This section explores those meanings, its theological impetus in relation to aesthetics, and how scholars have discussed themes of bhakti as devotion and as a social movement. Scholars agree that bhakti is a complex term, one difficult to translate. The Sanskrit word bhakti has its root in the verb bhaj, which means “to divide, to share with, to grant, to partake of, and to enjoy” (Monier Williams 1899:743). As a derivate of bhaj, bhakti is synonymous with the noun love in modern languages, in the sense of love for both persons and things: love for God, love for one’s mother, or love for a flower (Dhavamony 1971). In its verb form, to love indicates having strong affection or deep, tender feelings for someone or something. Bhakti, in its religious usage, implies choosing God as one’s partner, worshiping, adoring, and loving God as understood in its cognate forms: bhakti yoga, the discipline of love, and bhaktibhaja, possessing true devotion (Dhavamony 1971).1 Bhakti in Hinduism is a religious path that aims to achieve the same goal as jñāna, or knowledge, and another being the path of karma, or action. Bhakti is one of the ways in which a Hindu can achieve mokṣa, or liberation from saṃsāra, the cycle of rebirth. S. Radhakrishnan (1975) suggests that bhakti is perfected when identity between the lover and the beloved – the knower and known – is attained. The distinction between the god and the worshiper is only relative. A true devotee becomes a knowledgeable soul

4

Introduction

and eventually a virtuous soul as well, and the self surrenders to the deity. In this sense, bhakti and knowledge have one and the same end. In a religious sense, bhakti focuses on a personal devotion, with the individual’s experience of total submission leading to union with the divine, a state parallel to mokṣa. Devotees who practice bhakti believe in devotion to a personal deity. Most scholars agree that bhakti is devotion toward a personal deity. The path leading to liberation through the attainment of a state of abiding communion with a personally conceived ultimate reality is known as bhakti mārga, path of devotion. In bhakti traditions, the embodied forms of the divine remain significant because bhakti practiced in relation to the divine images liberates a devotee from the cycle of rebirth. Karine Schomer and William Hewat McLeod point toward a theological distinction based on divine imagining, the saguṇ, or god with attributes, and nirguṇ, god without attributes, among the bhakti gurus (Schomer and McLeod 1987). Scholars such as David Lorenzen (2004) acknowledge the dichotomization of the medieval bhakti gurus into nirguṇ and saguṇ categories, and John Stratton Hawley and Juergensmeyer structure their book, Songs of the Saints of India (2004), around these categories. John Stratton Hawley (1987; 1995) and Wendy Doniger O’Flaherty (1987), however, both downplay these categories, stating that the saints themselves wavered between saguṇ and nirguṇ categories. Wendy Doniger O’Flaherty has suggested nirguṇ to be in between advaita and popular mysticism of premabhakti (Schomer and McLeod 1987). Even Hawley in A Storm of Songs (2015:340) combined these categories of nirguṇ and saguṇ. Hawley argued that when the bhakti movement crystallized in India in the 1920s and 1930s, it acknowledged the union of nirguṇ and saguṇ. These distinctions between nirguṇ and saguṇ do not seem to matter much for Āśān’s articulation of bhakti; the nirguṇ/saguṇ distinction – and even the terminology – is northern and foreign to the southern traditions. As A. K. Ramanujan (1999:295) comments, [t]he distinction iconic/aniconic is a useful one, as nirguṇa/saguṇa is not. All devotional poetry plays on the tension between saguṇa and nirguṇa, the lord as person and the lord as principle. If he were entirely a person, he would not be divine, and if he were entirely a principle, a godhead, one could not make poems about him. . . . It is not either/or, but both/and; myth, bhakti, and poetry would be impossible without the presence of both attitudes. For him, surrendering at the feet of the deity or teacher, demonstrating total surrender as defined in the Tamil term prāpatti, was of utmost significance. It signifies seeking refuge, as in the case of Śrī Vaiṣṇava Āḻvārs, who love Viṣṇu and seek his protection and grace (Narayanan 1987).

Bhakti as devotion Explorations from Tamil-, Marathi-, Kannada-, Bengali-, and Hindi-speaking regions of India have articulated bhakti as a religion of emotionally charged contact between the divine and human that has soteriological significance.2 Such

Introduction 5 divinity can be perceived in iconic or aniconic form. No matter how bhakti is expressed in ritual or social context, direct loving loyalty and union with God remain essential. This direct connection with the deity is represented in Āśān’s works. Velcheru Narayana Rao et al. (1994) reinforces bhakti theology by emphasizing a radical expression of śṛngāra (the erotic), in which the devotee takes the voice of a courtesan and attracts, or even shuns, the deity. Narayana Rao et al. (1994:19) rightly asserts in relation to Telugu padams that the love of god is not erotic in the sense of sexual experience but, rather, is the ultimate consuming emotion that a human can experience. Although the expressions of bhakti soteriology became popular in the vernacular languages and literature of India during the medieval period from around the 7th century, its antecedents can be found in Sanskrit literature, and its importance is rooted in the Bhagavad Gītā from around 300 CE, as well as the Bhāgavata Purāṇa from around the 10th century CE. According to the Bhāgavata Purāṇa 7.5.23–24, bhakti as yoga includes nine marks of devotion to God, Viṣṇu: listening, praising, remembering Viṣṇu, serving him, worshipping, being his slave, being his friend, dedicating oneself to him, and honoring him.3 These expressions of love served a theological function in achieving liberation from the karma saṁsāra, the cycle of rebirth. The poetics of bhakti include types of bhāva (sentiment, emotion, mood) and types of rasa (essence, flavor). Both bhāva and rasa are understood to be qualities of human relationships that include respectful subordination and passionate love between the beloved and the lover. Such a deep relationship – one that embodies self-surrender and self-abnegation – remains integral to the bhakti understanding of love, as well as to Āśān’s use of the term snēham, love. In the Malayalam language, the word snēham expresses a stronger and deeper relationship. Snēham means iṣṭam (friendly love), mamata (parental love), premam (spousal love), and hārdvam (respectful love; Ṥabdatārāvali 2004:1742). Snēham is synonymous to anpu. Anpu means snēham (love), cercca (union), bhakti (devotion), santoṣam (happiness) and daya (compassion) (Ṥabdatārāvali 2004: 141). All emphasize deep relationships. Āśān used anpu, snēham, and bhakti interchangeably in the Malayalam language to articulate his message of love as both spiritual and social emancipation. The devotional love that Āśān conveys with the word snēham finds a place in his imagination and works. In the same way, surrender and abnegation at the god’s feet define the relationship between a devotee and the deity, eventually liberating the devotee. Āśān’s deployment of bhakti or snēham reinforces the connection between the aesthetic and the religious. Bharatamuni, who discusses rasa and bhāva in Nātyaśāstra (200 BCE–200 CE), describes two aspects of rasa: the transcendental experience and the object of presentation. Abhinavagupta, a Śaiva philosopher who comments on Nāṭyaśāstra in his text, Abhinavabhārati, around the 10th–11th century CE, emphasizes that rasa is a mystical experience that negates the self. He calls this experience camatkāra (wonder), and it leads to a new dimension of reality (Haberman 1988; Pati 2010). For Abhinavagupta, the duality of subject and object disappears, and in their place, there is the aesthetic experience which includes the states of alaukika (transcendence), ānanda (bliss), and rasikatva (taste) (Pati 2010). Both Bharata and Abhinavagupta suggest a relationship

6

Introduction

between rasa and religious experiences. Rupa Gosvamin, the 16th-century Gaudiya Vaiṣṇava bhakti theologian, stresses in Bhakti Rasāmṛita Sindhu and in the Ujjvala Nīlamaṇi the religious impetus of bhakti; bhakti rasa was supreme to other forms of rasa. It is David Haberman (1988) and Donna Wulff (1990) who argued the concept of rasa as the mode of religious experience itself. Haberman (1988) delineates bhakti as rasa that has soteriological significance. In this sense, bhakti as rasa refers to bhakti as premam or snēham (love). This relationship is represented in the poetic composition of the poet-saints across India as well as in the poetic expressions of Āśān. Here, bhakti has a transformative role in transcending the boundaries between the divine and human. Āśān’s poems resonate with bhakti theme of union and separation and the various flavors of bhakti bhavas. Bhakti scholars agree that the bhakti mood can be broadly classified into vipralambha, the lovers in separation, and sambhoga, the lovers in union. Bhakti scholars from various regions highlight the significance of separation and union as the main motifs of bhakti poems. Friedhelm Hardy in his study of early Kṛṣṇa devotion in South India, Viraha-Bhakti (1983), states that in amorous emotional bhakti, the theme of “union and separation” remains central. Numerous bhakti scholars have discussed various bhakti bhāvas (Staal 1975; Cutler 1987 ; Carman 1987 ; Haberman 1988 ). For investigating Āśān’s poems, I employ the various themes of bhakti as devotion embodied in the myriad relationships of love between devotee and deity in Hinduism, that ensures liberation from the cycle of rebirth and knowledge of the divine. As Krishna Chaitanya (1965) argues, the fourth goal of mokṣa, liberation, in puruṣārtha is realized in either sama (detachment) or śanta (bliss/tranquility). I turn to this liberation at the personal as well as at social levels as the impetus behind Āśān’s concept of bhakti as a movement next.

Bhakti as a movement Many in India today perceive the history of bhakti as a movement that developed in Tamilnadu around the 6th–9th century CE, spread to other parts of India, and then became a central characteristic of religion by the 15–17th century. Krishna Sharma (1987) questions the definition of bhakti as a movement and its ideology. Sharma argues that it is a modern Western construction that emphasizes monotheism and opposes monism, and further notes that bhakti was never narrowly construed in the first place; rather, different Hindu religious people and thinkers express bhakti differently (Sharma 1987). Bhakti as a movement can be characterized by the use of regional languages rather than the use of Sanskrit. Bhakti scholars of various bhakti traditions have argued that bhakti is not only an expression of devotion toward the deity but also of caste-resistive movement. From the Kannada-speaking region, A. K. Ramanujan (1973) argues that vacanās, or sayings, are religious literature representing the vīraśaiva religious movement of protest and reform in Hindu society. In the Tamil Śaiva bhakti poetry, Karen Pechilis Prentiss (1999) emphasizes that bhakti is a theology of embodiment and is a movement embedded in the details of human life

Introduction 7 and activity in the world. Christian Novetzke (2008) focuses on the Maharashtrian poet-saint Nāmdev and the role public memory plays as bhakti ideas are renegotiated to address caste concerns. Based on historiographies and hagiographies of Mīrābāī, Sūrdās, and Kabīr, three North Indian poet-saints of the 15th and 16th centuries, John Stratton Hawley in Three Bhakti Voices (2005) argues that these poets are the creations of those who have loved them through the centuries and enumerates various aspects of bhakti. More important, the poems are representative of bhakti as a movement. Hawley (2005) maintains that bhakti movement has not only proved beneficial for national integration and conflict mediation critiquing caste inequalities but has also remained an instrument of caste status quo. While one can see bhakti as a movement that transcends caste boundaries, bhakti also maintains caste boundaries (Hawley 2015). As Christopher Fuller’s (1992:158–63) study of Rādha-Kṛṣṇa bhajanās in Madras has noted, although bhakti serves as an integrating force, it is shaped by caste, class, and gender inequalities as the Madras Bhajana Association expresses a collective identity that is Brahman, middle class, and male. In the Malayalam-speaking region, bhakti is referred to as bhakti prasthānam, which means bhakti movement. The bhakti prasthānam in the Malayalam speaking region has its foundation in the Sanskrit and Tamil traditions and includes bhakti as devotion as mentioned in the previous section. This aspect of bhakti movement of Kerala grounded in the Sanskrit tradition and interspersed with Tamil and Dravidian legends is best reflected in the ritual and performative traditions. Rich Freeman’s (2003a, 2003b) discussion of the literary culture of premodern Kerala highlights the aspects of bhakti within its performative practices. In the case of modern Malayalam poetry, particularly in Āśān’s Naḷini, scholars classify him exclusively as a romantic poet (Pillai 1992) and do not recognize religious aspects of love and freedom (Sreenivasan’s 1981). Āśān rejected the concept of women as sex objects through expressions of movement and permanence in his poems, Naḷini, Candālabhikṣuki, and Līla (Ajaykumar 1999), and generally by discussing spirituality and materialism (Prabha 1999). Āśān’s inner conflicts appear in these constructions (Basheer 1999). At any rate, Malayalam scholars have argued Āśān’s works to reflect women’s inner life, feminism, subjugation and domination, and humanism (Radhika 1999; Leelavati 1999; Soman 1999, Pavithran 1999). Pavithran (2002) claims that Āśān’s male and female characters in Naḷini reflect a relationship between Śiva and Pārvatī. Although these Malayalam works on Āśān’s poetry shed light on concern for the low caste and women, none of them recognize how he employs bhakti as devotion and bhakti as a movement in Naḷini. I address this gap, and I hope to augment current discourses of bhakti as devotion and a movement.4 While these previous studies of bhakti offer tools for interpreting Malayalam bhakti in modern Kerala, there are two studies that serve as a fulcrum for this study. I draw on Karen Pechilis’s (Prentiss 1999:153, 24) argument that bhakti is a “theology of embodiment,” emphasizing “participation” and including both devotion and movement, and John Hawley’s (2015) assertion of bhakti as a movement. Hawley explains that bhakti, as a movement, was a combination of

8

Introduction

vernacular songs for national integration, social inclusion, and personal experience for India’s struggle for independence, and it was a modern idea in its quest for nationhood and self (2015). Though I agree with Hawley (2015) that during the modern period, bhakti as a movement emphasized social inclusion and national integration, I beg to differ that bhakti is a “modern idea,” particularly in the case of the Malayalam-speaking region. The idea that bhakti as a movement was a modern-day construct problematizes the study of bhakti – at least in the context of Kerala – because bhakti prasthānam (movement) in Kerala reflect the Sanskrit and Tamil traditions, which are clearly not modern. I argue that in Naḷini, Āśān packages classical Sanskrit and the medieval devotional aspects as a movement to appeal to a much wider audience and to address the caste and gender injustices practiced during his time. In this way, Āśān’s social reform subverts caste and gender heirarchies and reinforces bhakti the “ultimate dharma,” as stated in the Bhāgavata Purāṇa 7.6.1–2 (Bryant 2017). Drawing on the flavors of bhakti in different regions, this study further Hawley’s argument that bhakti as a movement acknowledges the “uncomfortable alliance between songs of protest” and “songs of reassurance, which transport to an imagined realm of color, taste, and limitless good,”(Hawley 2015:340), and I reinforce Pechilis’s (Prentiss 1999:153, 24) accurate observation that bhakti is a “theology of embodiment” emphasizing “participation.” Novetzke (2008) candidly argues embodiment to be the epicenter of bhakti. That embodiment becomes an epistemological site enacting religious praxis, as Barbara Holdredge (2015) contends. In this regard, anthropologist Thomas Csordas (1990, 1993) stresses that the embodied experience remains integral in religious experience. I argue the agency of bhakti remains grounded in the embodiment of bhakti in the everyday experiences of the people. This holds true particularly for Mahākavi Kumāran Āśān. The intertwining of religion, literature, and modernity that envisions a utopian community in Kerala advances the idea of bhakti in its modern-day incarnation. Bhakti took new forms within the caste-oriented society of Kerala. It was in the quest for social inclusion, nationhood, and self that bhakti gains a fresh impetus during the colonial period in Kerala. As Filippo Osella and Caroline Osella (2002) have rightly observed, modernity to these Īzhavas comes in the form of selfdefined identities embedded in community identity, forged from the 19th century onward through a process of internal reforms, mobilization, and dialogue between local ideas of justice, equality, and European-derived notions of modernity and reform. For example, the oppressive caste system and the taṟavātu (joint household) system constituted pāramparyam (tradition), which negated individual selfidentity. Modernity privileged individual identity and human dignity, a means for social mobility during the colonial period in Kerala under the influence of European Christian missionaries. In the study of three 19th-century Malayalam subaltern novels, Ghatakavadham (The Slayer Slain, 1865), Saraswativijayam (The Victory of Knowledge, 1893), and Sukumari (1897), Dilip Menon (2006) argues that the formulation of caste self and new collectivity in these novels depends on religious imagining. Menon asserts that soteriology operates through the tropes of death and freedom, giving shape to modernity. In a similar vein, David Hardiman (1997) suggests that “religious belief and practice often reflected an aspiration for a better life, which was not merely located in the hereafter but also very much in

Introduction 9 the here and now.” Historian Dick Kooiman argues analogously (1989) that conversion for untouchables was primarily a result of their wish to better their worldly predicament and was done for the sake of emancipation. However, Sanal Mohan, in his recent study Modernity of Slavery (2015:84), refutes Kooiman’s claim and asserts that Christian missionary activities created, in a sense, a new religious imagination among slaves who were members of the lowest castes or untouchables of the society in modern Kerala; however, it also reflected some ambivalence, as the untouchables observed pre-Christian and post-Christian practices. For example, Poykayil Yohannan, the founder of the Dalit religious sect, Prathyakhsha Rakasha Daiva Sabha (God’s Church of Visible Salvation), in central Kerala, “imaginatively created a hybrid religion by combining several elements of Christian discourses and practices with elements drawn from the Dalit life-world” (Mohan 2015:152). I mention these studies because they illustrate the ongoing discussion about how we as scholars should interpret religious conversation and individual identity when they intersect class and because these studies illustrate the complexities of literary works that are created in Kerala. These studies provide useful tools in understanding the context and studying Āśān’s works. I contend that Āśān’s poetic imagination reflects ambivalence in his blending of bhakti as devotion and movement; his poetic imagination also reflects panIndian influences of nationalism, India’s independence struggle, and social inclusion. Āśān, who lived during the colonial period, was exposed to many social and literary changes and his poetics of reform was shaped by literary changes sparked by colonialism; his poetics of reform also reinforced native literary styles from Sanskrit, Tamil, and Malayalam languages. In engaging with these distinct motifs, the poet not only furthers bhakti as movement aimed at addressing caste and social oppression, but he also problematizes our understanding of bhakti. Employing motifs that might seem to conflict to express his ideas should not be a surprise to anyone who knows Homi K. Bhabha’s (1994) notion of “hybridity” when negotiating transformation in a colonial quagmire. Bhabha asserts that “the social articulation of difference, from the minority perspective, is a complex, on-going negotiation that seeks to authorize cultural hybridities that emerge in moments of historical transformation” (Bhabha 1994:3). Bhabha suggests such negotiation is a product of colonialism. This hybridity is very well true in the case of Āśān. As in Āśān’s life and work, religion formed the substratum for the social and political actions taken by the lower castes. As Partha Chatterjee claims, religion shaped the ideology and provided ontology, epistemology, and a practical code of ethics (Chatterjee 1997:31). Āśān articulates a subaltern bhakti sensibility that aspired emancipation from oppressive structures and ideologies of his days. Āśān’s use of bhakti as devotion and movement themes in his poems reflect an association with the history of bhakti poetry but with the impetus behind bhakti to be both expressions of devotional love and reform. The present study attempts to illustrate that Āśān’s poems employ bhakti, enforcing the pragmatic efficacy of bhakti in early 20th-century Kerala. In order to accurately illustrate, I want to emphasize here that it is thus imperative to unpack Āśān’s poems from a religious perspective and to highlight how he employs strands of indigenous traditions of bhakti to negotiate a new identity that transcends caste boundaries in colonial

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Kerala. It is not an either/or. Āśān’s literary compositions reflect the symbolism and social discourse embedded in the complex meanings of bhakti as devotion and as a movement. They also reflect his association with the English romantic poets, including William Wordsworth, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and his Indian contemporary Rabindranath Tagore, providing him with the poetics to assert a notion of bhakti as a movement, which I discuss in Chapters 3 and 5. In the Malayalamspeaking region bhakti has its roots in the Sanskrit and medieval Tamil streams, which is discussed later in Chapter 4 of this volume. As the volume focuses on bhakti religion, I have generally shed light on the tropes emphasized by English Romantic Poets which can be understood in Āśān’s lyric poem, Naḷini (1911), and not included a verse by verse comparison between the works of the English Romantic poets and Āśān. Āśān’s verses in Naḷini embody a unique style that weaves elements of those European romantic poets with those of bhakti poetry, emphasizing his vision of reimagined community. Āśān’s interiorization finds exterior expression in his message of personal devotional transformation linked with sociopolitical transformation. Oppressed by the caste system, the poet developed his quest for liberation into an expansive vision of a just society. His poetics of reform innovatively and, to some extent, effectively conveyed his message of love and freedom from the clutches of the caste system, which he metaphorically asserted as freedom from the cycle of rebirth, samsāra. In other words, Āśān’s literary call for the emancipation of the lower caste of Kerala society is enacted within the broader religious framework of liberation from samsāra. The poet’s mystical experience of the divine is expressed through his poetic utterances, and those utterances address the caste system. With symbolic language, he addresses social concerns present in Kerala society. In short, his divine experience blossoms to human expression, and human expression bears fruit in a specific ethical action that paved the way for eradicating the age-old caste system of oppression in the Kerala society. Āśān’s poems engage in social discourse and display the power of poetry to herald sociopolitical and religious transformation. As Robert Pinsky states in his study of the significance of poetry, “[p]oetry is a vocal imagining, ultimately social but essentially individual and inward” (Pinsky 2002:39). In the case of bhakti, Indira V. Peterson (1991:49) accurately suggests that “[p]oetry is the bhakti experience made palpable. The hymn is the embodiment of the unification of emotion and ritual . . . the experience of love, and its expression.” Precisely, then, Āśān’s poetry makes bhakti tangible. Poems have the extraordinary power of “the voice that speaks in address,” but the voice that reaches the readers is only one of many voices concurrently audible in the text (Walters 2003). Walters’s phrase corresponds to Āśān’s poems, which pragmatically try to construct human relations based on religious experience, but scholars don’t hear it. The multiple themes echoed in the poem contributes to the complexity of the poetry: some are able to listen to what Āśān has to say at the literal level, while others are able to listen to the poetry’s in-depth religious aspects. Āśān is often considered a romantic poet of modern Kerala without scholars realizing that the underlying emphasis of his poems stems from complex, longstanding bhakti themes. For a long time, according to Jayant Lele (1981),5 Indian and Western intellectuals have considered bhakti a path of devotion rather than a

Introduction 11 social movement. In fact, in Kerala, as mentioned earlier in this chapter, bhakti is not popularly regarded as a social movement by some scholars, as articulated. Āśān challenged the separation between the philosophical and emotional path and highlighted the importance of both for the emancipation of the lower-caste people of Kerala. Bhakti as personal devotion and as a movement takes a critical attitude toward rigid caste and gender practices. Rereading Āśān’s poems critiquing the existing socioreligious systems as I do in Chapter 1, one can see why we must find connections with the bhakti movement. If we fail to see these connections, we risk missing the religious significance of his poetry. For the purpose of unpacking the religious sensibility in Āśān’s poems, my task is to imagine and reconstruct the context, as Jonathan Z. Smith suggests of all historians of religion (Smith 1982). This book reconstructs Āśān’s context, one where his religion emerged as the product of a particular history and geography. The colonial context of Kerala is the vantage point I take in this investigation of texts. Āśān’s experience of and his thoughts related to the divisions in Kerala during the colonial period inspired his poems, which employ various flavors of love shaping a utopian vision of community and expressing a new religious imagination deeply steeped in Hindu bhakti. I demonstrate that Āśān, a poet and a reformer, heralded change at the societal and literary level and, most significantly, redefined bhakti as the personal devotional expression of love and a social movement toward emancipation.

The structure of the book In this volume, I build a bridge between religion and Malayalam literature as I reread Āśān’s poems and parse the intentions that may have shaped how he employed bhakti as a low-caste member in modern Kerala. The current study attests to the embodiment of bhakti as expressions of devotional love and a social critique of the prevalent caste system in Kerala. The book emphasizes three main points: (1) the poet’s intention of radical love as a basis for a utopian community finds meaning in the embodiment of bhakti as personal devotion and bhakti as a movement, (2) Āśān’s poems shape bhakti religion as a movement in modern Kerala, and (3) expressions of love can represent efforts toward emancipation simultaneously at the spiritual, political, and social levels. Although this volume pays close attention to Āśān’s Naḷini, his ideas of love and liberation can be best understood by considering his earlier works, the Stotṛakṛitikal, or hymns of praise, which presents his devotional love of the deity, and his later ones, representing his imagination of freedom from all forms of oppression. The subsequent chapters present the place, person, poetics of devotion and poetics of reform arguing that bhakti religion emphasizes both devotion and movement in modern Kerala, particularly in the works of Mahākavi Kumāran Āśān. Chapter 2, “Place: Caste, Colonialism, and Reforms in Kerala (1870–1924),” explores castes and communities in early 20th-century Kerala that came to be dominated by leftist political sympathies. Awareness of the modes of subjectivity and processes of “othering” were prevalent during the poet’s time in Kerala society. Benedict Anderson’s (1983) argument that what is crucial to a study of communities is not the extent of falsity/genuineness, but rather the style in which they are imagined. The

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forces that shape this style of imagining provides a helpful tool in the examination. I ask, “What were the hierarchical binary distinctions between self/other and subject/ object that prompted Āśān to compose his poems?” Through a reconstruction of the historical context, I prepare the reader to recognize – both in religious and political terms – the subaltern voice and identity expressed in Āśān’s poems. Chapter 3, “Person: Mahākavi Kumaran Āśān (1873–1924),” introduces the poet and explores the experiences that shaped his writing. In examining his life and literary contribution, this chapter sheds light on his relationships with customs and practices. I point to some of the pan-Indian influences and nationalistic movements that defined Āśān’s bhakti religion. Āśān’s vision of caste and gender was influenced by the nationalistic movement, Western romantic poets, and the mystical figures of the Malayalam tradition, particularly Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru. I argue that Āśān’s poetics of reform uses “hybridity” as a resistive force against cultural hegemony. Hybridity, as Homi Bhabha argues, provides a space from which subaltern agency can be realized as counterhegemony (Bhabha 1994). In examining Āśān’s modern poetry, which employs Western romantic and bhakti tropes, I demonstrate the narrative space to be a terrain for elaborating selfhood and the complexities of modernity (Bhabha 1994). Chapter 4, “Poetics of Devotion: Bhakti as Devotion,” explores the contours of Malayalam bhakti tradition and demonstrates bhakti as devotion in Āśān’s poems, especially his earlier works, Stotṛakṛitikal (hymns of praise). I illustrate that his poems of devotion connect to classical Sanskrit traditions and South Indian devotional poetry explicitly as devotion to the deity. This chapter also serves as a point of departure for examining his poetics of reform in the subsequent chapter where bhakti becomes a movement toward equality and utopian vision of community. Chapter 5, “Poetics of Reform: Bhakti as a Movement,” offers a close reading of Naḷini, demonstrating the presence of various expressions of bhakti as devotion. I explore how Āśān employs an allegory of love to express bhakti as movement. The chapter argues that Āśān’s utopian vision of a reimagined community of egalitarianism was grounded in bhakti religion in modern Kerala and his deployment of snēham. He creates a consciousness of the polarizing binaries of self/other and subject/object and challenges them through the bhakti trope of emancipation from the hierarchy in the caste-oriented society of Kerala. Bhakti as devotion finds meaning in bhakti as a movement by asserting bhakti’s pragmatic efficacy. The concluding chapter reprises and elaborates Āśān’s vision for socioreligious reform – a vision dependent on the negation of the dichotomy between self and other, high and low castes, and subject and object. The theology of embodiment of bhakti finds meaning in modern Kerala through the imagination of the poet, and his vision of love emphasizes a “network of relationships” (Orsi’s (2005) between the divine and human and among humans. The study of Āśān’s poetry confirms Talal Asad’s (1993) claim that religion in the medieval period was quite different from that in modern society and that the constitution of the modern state required a redefinition of religion. The Appendices include transliterations and translations included in Chapters 4 and 5 of this volume. Appendix 1 includes transliterations of the verses I have used in this book from different Stotṛakṛitikal, hymns of praise, Vīṇapūvu (1907), Candālabhikṣuki (1922), Duravasta (1922), and the entire lyric poem Naḷini (1911). Appendix 2 includes the entire translation of Naḷini (1911). The transliteration and

Introduction 13 translation offer the reader an opportunity to understand the poet’s deployment of bhakti as devotion and his use of an allegory of love to convey his message of love and his utopian vision, which stems from love of deity.

Notes 1 However, there are instances in which bhakti is considered to be a term without a religious meaning; it simply connotes loyalty (van Buitenen 1981). 2 Edward C. Dimock and Denise Levertov (1967), Norman Cutler (1987), Vasudha Narayanan (1994), Velcheru Narayana Rao et al. (1994), Indira V. Peterson (1991), Friedhelm Hardy (2001), and Archana Venkatesan (2010). 3 Bhāgavata Purāṇa 7.5.23–24: “Prahlāda replied: The nine characteristics of bhakti that people can offer to Viṣṇu are: hearing about Him, singing about Him, remembering Him, serving His feet, worshipping Him, glorifying Him, considering oneself His servant, considering oneself His friend, and surrendering completely to Him. When these are offered to Bhagavān, then I think this to be the highest learning” (Bryan 2017:417). 4 The intellectuals have considered bhakti as a path of devotion rather than a social movement. The bhakti movement was explicitly a revolt against the dichotomous view that upheld the duality of existence. 5 A similar gap can be understood in Eleanor Zelliot and Rohini Mokashi-Punekar’s (2005) edited volume regarding untouchable saints of India, where the volume offers religious voice from the lower castes but does not consider it to be a force for change.

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Fuller, Christopher. (1992). The Camphor Flame: Popular Hinduism and Society in India. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Haberman, David. (1988). Acting as a Way of Salvation: A Study of Rāgānugā Bhakti Sādhana. New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Hardiman, David. (1997). Origins and Transformations of the Devi. In Ranajit Guha, ed., A Subaltern Studies Reader, 1986–1995. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Hardy, Friedhelm. (1983). Viraha-Bhakti: The Early History of Kṛṣṇa Devotion in South India. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Hawley, John Stratton. (1987). The Sant in Sur Das. In Karine Schomer and W. H. McLeod, eds., The Sants: Studies in a Devotional Tradition of India. Berkeley: Berkeley Religious Studies Series, pp. 191–211. Hawley, John Stratton. (1995). The Nirguṇ/Saguṇ Distinction in Early Manuscript Anthologies of Hindu Devotion. In David N. Lorenzen, ed., Bhakti Religion in North India: Community Identity and Political Action. Albany: State University of New York Press, pp. 160–80. Hawley, John Stratton. (2005). Three Bhakti Voices. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Hawley, John Stratton. (2015). A Storm of Songs: India and the Idea of the Bhakti Movement. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Hawley, John Stratton and Juergensmeyer, Mark. (2004). Songs of the Saints of India. New York: Oxford University Press. Holdredge, Barbara A. (2015). Bhakti and Embodiment: Fashioning Divine Bodies and Devotional Bodies in Kṛṣṇa Bhakti. London: Routledge. Leelavati, Mundanat. (1999). Āśānte kāvyaṅgaḷile strīpakṣavādam. In E. K. Purushothaman, ed., Sūryatejas. Chennai: Āśān Memorial Association, pp. 105–22. Lele, Jayant, ed. (1981). Tradition and Modernity in Bhakti Movements. Leiden: E. J. Brill. Lorenzen, David N. (2004). Bhakti. In Sushil Mittal and Gene R. Thursby, eds., The Hindu World. London: Routledge. Menon, Dilip. (2006). The Blindness of Insight: Essays on Caste in Modern India. Pondicherry: Navayana Publications. Mohan, P. Sanal. (2015). Modernity of Slavery: Struggles Against Caste Inequality in Colonial Kerala. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Monier-Williams, Monier. (1899). A Sanskrit-English Dictionary. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Narayanan, Vasudha. (1987). The Way and the Goal: Expressions of Devotion in the Early Śrī Vaiṣṇava Tradition. Washington, DC: Institute for Vaishnava Studies Press. Narayanan, Vasudha. (1994). The Vernacular Veda: Revelation, Recitation, and Ritual. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press. Narayana Rao, Velcheru, Ramanujan, A. K., and Shulman, David (Ed. And Translated). (1994). When God Is a Customer: Telugu Courtesan Songs by Ksterayya and Others. Berkeley: University of California Press. Novetzke, Christian. (2008a). Bhakti and Its Public. International Journal of Hindu Studies, Vol. 12, No. 53, pp. 255–72. Novetzke, Christian. (2008b). Religion and Public Memory: A Cultural History of Saint Namdev of India. New York: Columbia University Press. O’Flaherty, Wendy Doniger. (1987). The Interaction of Saguṇa and Nirguṇa Images of Deity. In Karine Schomer and W. H. McLeod, eds., The Sants: Studies in a Devotional Tradition of India. Berkeley: Berkeley Religious Studies Series, pp. 47–52. Orsi, Robert. (2005). Between Heaven and Earth: The Religious Worlds People Make and the Scholars Who Study Them. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Osella, Filippo, and Caroline Osella. (2000). Social Mobility in Kerala: Modernity and Identity in Conflict. London: Pluto Press.

Introduction 15 Padmanabhapillai, Srikanteswaram G. (2004). Ṥabdatārāvali, 27th ed. Kottayam: Sahitya Pravarthaka Co-Operative Society. Pati, George. (2010). Mohiniyāṭṭam: An Embodiment of the Aesthetic and the Religious. Journal of Hindu Studies, Vol. 3, pp. 91–113. Pavithran, P. (1999). Kīzhaḷkathāpātraṅgaḷude niśśbdata. In E. K. Purushothaman, ed., Sūryatejas. Chennai: Āśān Memorial Association, pp. 39–49. Pavithran, P. (2002). Āśān Kavita: Adhunikānantara Pāṭaṅgal. Thiruvananthapuram: Department of Cultural Publications. Prentiss, Pechilis Karen. (1999). The Embodiment of Bhakti. New York: Oxford University Press. Peterson, Indira V. (1991). Poems to Śiva: The Hymns of the Tamil Saints. New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Pillai, K. C. Chandra Mohanan. (1992). Bhakti Movement in Malayalam Poetry. Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Kerala. Pinsky, Robert. (2002). Democracy, Culture, and the Voice of Poetry. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press. Prabha, G. (1999). Navādvaitam. In E. K. Purushothaman, ed., Sūryatejas. Chennai: Āśān Memorial Association, pp. 67–82. Radhakrishnan, Sarvepalli. (1975). Hinduism. In A. L. Basham, ed., A Cultural History of India. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Radhika, M. D. (1999). Strīyude antarjīvitam naḷiniyil. In E. K. Purushothaman, ed., Sūryatejas. Chennai: Āśān Memorial Association, pp. 101–4. Ramanujan, Attipat Krishnaswami. (1973). Speaking of Siva. New York: Penguin Press. Ramanujan, Attipat Krishnaswami. (1999). The Collected Essays of A. K. Ramanujan. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Schomer, Karine and McLeod, William Hewat. eds. (1987). The Sants: Studies in a Devotional Tradition of India. Berkeley: Berkeley Religious Studies Series. Sharma, Krishna. (1987). Bhakti and the Bhakti Movement: A New Perspective. New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers Pvt. Ltd. Smith, Jonathan Z. (1982). Imagining Religion: From Babylon to Jonestown. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Smith, Jonathan Z. (2004). What a Difference A Difference Makes. In Jonathan Z. Smith, ed., Relating Religion: Essays in the Study of Religion. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Soman, P. (1999). Āśānkavitayile mānvikta. In E. K. Purushothaman, ed., Sūryatejas. Chennai: Āśān Memorial Association, pp. 169–87. Sreenivasan, K. (1981). Kumaran Asan: Profile of a Poet’s Vision. Trivandrum: Darsan Books Private Ltd. Staal, Frits. (1975). Exploring Mysticism. Berkeley: University of California Press. van Buitenen, Johannes Adrianus Bernardus. (1981). The Bhagavadgītā in the Mahābhārata. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Venkatesan, Archana. (2010). The Secret Garland: Āṇṭāḷ’s Tiruppāvai and Nācciyār Tirumoli. New York: Oxford University Press. Walters, William. (2003). Poetry’s Touch: On Lyric Address. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press. Wulff, Donna A. (1990). The Evocation of Bhāva in Performances of Bengali Vaiṣṇava Padāval− Kīrtan. In Owen M. Lynch, ed., Divine Passions. Berkeley: University of California Press. Zelliot, Eleanor and Mokashi-Punekar, Rohini, eds. (2005). Untouchable Saints: An Indian Phenomenon. New Delhi: Manohar.

2

Place Caste, colonialism, and reforms in Kerala (1870–1924)

This chapter concerns itself with caste, colonialism, and reform in early 20thcentury Kerala. The subjugation of the low-caste people of Kerala was rampant at this time. Included in these low castes were the Īzhavas, the caste group of the poet. In highlighting the oppressive structures and stigmas built on hierarchical binary distinctions between self/other and subject/object, as well as the reform that took place during this period, I reconstruct the historical context in this chapter. Understanding the period in which the poet lived prepares the reader to interpret a lowcaste poem in a way that recognizes the subaltern voice and identity in both religious and political terms. As Benedict Anderson emphasizes, what is crucial to a study of communities is not the extent of falsity/genuineness but, rather, the style in which the communities are imagined and the forces that shape this style (Anderson 1983). India witnessed many social and religious reforms under the colonial rule during the 19th and 20th centuries, and Kerala was no exception in this regard. The influence of the British on the Indian government, education systems, reformation, and reorganization at the sociopolitical and religious levels gave rise to the consciousness of the self. This chapter discusses the many aspects of the changing culture that shaped Āśān’s imagination: caste hierarchy, prevalent Hindu customs and practices, the joint household system, matriliny, education and emancipation of women, colonial and missionary influences, freedom struggle, and nationalistic movements. These aspects influenced Āśān as he employed bhakti as a movement toward consciousness and as he explored his own vision of an egalitarian community. The practice of subjugation and domination was ubiquitous in colonial Kerala. Even before colonialism, the hierarchical hegemonic practices of the caste system in Kerala were grounded in unapproachability and untouchability. Kerala was three provincial states before 1956 – Malabar, Cochin, and Travancore – I refer to all three states as well as Kerala as a whole in this study. During this time in Kerala, “othering” was endemic. Othering is a process in which a dominant group socially marginalizes another group marking social difference and creating a binary relationship in which they exist as self and other. Othering is based on the binary categorization of self/other, colonizer/colonized, upper caste/lower caste, all of which emphasize hegemonic domination and subjugation of the other. Postmodernists, such as Jacques Derrida (1930–2004),

Place 17 Michel Foucault (1926–1984), and Julia Kristeva (1941–) have focused their work on the concept of “other,” emphasizing subjectivity, marginalization, issues of identity, and construction of knowledge and arguing for the “other” to be part of the “self.” Although early postcolonial writing of Edward Said refers to othering in the construction of the “Orient as alien and to incorporate it schematically on a theatrical stage whose audience, manager, and actors are for Europe, and only for Europe” (Said 1978:71–2), it is Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak who systematically conceptualizes the “Other” as she analyzes three dimensions of othering present in the archival material of the British colonial power in India (Spivak 1985). The three dimensions are, one, who holds the power, and hence the powerful producing of the other as subordinate; two, constructing the other as morally inferior; and three, the powerful self owns knowledge and technology and not the other (Spivak 1985:254–6). Spivak’s concept of othering implies social differentiation and the outcome of the caste system in India in terms of social deprivation and distancing based on all these dimensions. But such distancing and construction of the powerful self and the subjugated and marginalized other emphasize binary categorization in colonial discourse as Homi K. Bhabha contends (1994). Bhabha states that colonial discourse depends on the concept of “fixity” in the construction of otherness, and it is the process of ambivalence, central to the stereotype (Bhabha 1994). Importantly, the objective of colonial discourse is to construe the colonized as a population of degenerate types on the basis of racial origin, in order to justify conquest and to establish systems of administration and instruction . . . colonial system which is crucial to its exercise of power, colonial discourse produces the colonized as a social reality which is at once an “other” and yet entirely knowable and visible. (Bhabha 1994:101) Diana Dimitrova in a more contemporary examination of religion, literature, and film in South Asia asserts “otherism” and “othering” taking place at all levels of human condition and is not only prevalent to Western thought and spaces but is also endemic in Hindu/Indian society and culture (Dimitrova 2014). “Othering” or disregarding and distancing as an outcome of ignorance of the self can be understood in the Advaita philosophy (Rambachan 2015). It is within this framework of power dynamics that I examine how customs and practices in Kerala reinforced “othering.” Understanding the construction of othering prevalent in the caste system allows me to see that degradation and distancing were rampant in the formation of identity and society. Patterns of subjugation and domination prevalent in the society are essential for understanding othering as the outcome of the caste system in Kerala. Āśān’s utopian vision of collective community challenges binary dichotomizations of the powerful upper caste and the marginalized lower caste in colonial Kerala as well as the degrading and distancing present in the caste society of Kerala of his time. The castes in Kerala were divided into savarṇa (“fair colored,” refers to the twice-born castes) and avarṇa (“dark colored,” refers to the low-castes). The

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Brahmins sat on top of the caste stratification. Pillai (1963) explains that all communities in Kerala are indigenous, except Brahmins. Kerala historians still debate regarding the arrival of Nambūtiri Brahmins. On one hand, it is understood that Nambūtiri Brahmins were immigrants from North India who slowly migrated to the south while some argue they migrated from the Tamil country. Kesavan Veluthat explains that Nambūtiri brahmins had settled in Kerala before the 7th century CE (Veluthat 1978), and their distinct rituals and customs can still be observed along the western coast of India in the adjoining state of Karnataka (Veluthat 1978, 2009). On the other hand, studies claim that all castes, including Brahmins, emerged out of the change in production (Damodaran 1962), and that all communities in Kerala belong to the same race of the Nambūtiris and Nāyars, and they became divided as an outcome of the caste system based on landholding (Namboodiripad 1952). As Robin Jeffrey states, “Possession of land complemented ritual status and brought power” (Jeffrey 1976:25). While the migration theory remains contested among historians, they do agree that Hindus strictly followed caste divisions in Kerala, especially during the colonial period, and that the Nambūtiris formed subcultures, with their distinct customs, traditions, and lifestyles, and exercised dominance. This is illustrated in the way Brahmins used the story of Kerala’s origin recorded in the Keraḷōlpatti, a “Brāhmaṇical document par excellence,” to legitimize their dominance (Veluthat 2009:139). These Brahmins divided into two categories were known as Malayāḷi and immigrant nonMalayāḷi Brahmins. Malayāḷi Brahmins, known as Nambūtiris along with non-Malayāḷi Brahmins, enjoyed a privileged status and took advantage of modern educational facilities. For example, in 1872, among 162 matriculates in Travancore, seventy-one belonged to this community, and out of fourteen bachelors of arts degree recipients, ten were non-Malayāḷi Brahmins (Jeffery 1976). The Ambalavāsis – below the Brahmins – who engaged in temple duties were described as intermediate castes (antrala jāti) and consisted of Vārrier, Piśārodi, Nambīssan, Cākyār, and Nambyār castes. In caste hierarchy, Nāyar came next. The Nāyar caste was composed of a large number of subcastes engaged in various duties from military service to washermen and barbers. Following the joint household system and matrilineal system gave the Nāyar caste control over the land, making them the largest group of landholders, enjoying some of the same privileges as Nambūtiris such as education and secured government jobs (Panikkar 1977:35). Below the Nāyars were the Īzhavas, known as Tiyyas in North Kerala. Īzhavas were one of the lower castes of Kerala, belonging to the avarṇa category. In comparison to the panIndian context, there was no Vaiśya caste in Kerala (Kurien 2002). The high-caste Hindus, Brahmins and Nāyars, considered the Īzhavas untouchables. They ordered the Īzhavas off the road and excluded them from temples. The Īzhavas kept their distance from Pulayās and Parayās (the untouchables, the lowest-caste Hindus below the Īzhavas) but still worked alongside them (Osella and Osella 2000:29). We can see how distancing and disregard were practiced among the low-castes, as well. The Īzhavas, the low caste, are thought to be descendants of the Buddhist community in Kerala, and as Buddhism faded away with Hindu revivalism, they assimilated into Hinduism but were positioned to be inferior to the Nāyars and considered as cousins to the Nāyars (Pullapilly 1976). The caste employment of the Īzhava

Place 19 was toddy tapping and liquor production. With the arrival of Brahminism in Kerala, it is plausible that the Īzhavas distanced themselves from the other higher castes as an outcaste society (Pullapilly 1976:30). As they were considered a backward caste, they had the privilege of accessing education, and some of them were the most well educated among the lower castes of Kerala. They were employed as tenant farmers or as laborers because of verumpaṭṭom, the land tenant system. These Īzhavas participated in social and political spheres, including in the nationalistic movement which emphasized morality based on the idea of advaita, nondualism. Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru defined advaita through two primary slogans: “one caste, one religion, and one God” and “whatever be man’s religion it is enough that he be good.”1 Guru’s plan was focused on four major areas: religion (eradication of superstition, blood sacrifice, and worship of evil gods), moral behavior (promotion of cleanliness, honesty, and justice), education (reeducation on the usefulness of education and building of schools and colleges), and industry (agriculture, commerce, and small-scale industry) (Pullapilly 1976:37). The Īzhavas were never noted for their temple-going and participation in religious rituals even when they agitated to enter state-owned Hindu temples (Parameswaran Nair 1969:18–20; Pullapilly 1976:30). The Īzhavas played a significant role in the temple entry proclamation, which opened the doors for low-caste devotees to participate in temple worship. Many social reformers from this caste contributed toward the emancipation of the Īzhavas. I discuss this later in the chapter. Evidence of the caste system within Christianity was explicit in Kerala. Christians constituted a considerable part of the population. Even though the lower castes embraced Christianity, the stigma of the caste system still permeated Christian communities. One of the significant reasons that the church in Kerala survived was because of its affiliation from the beginning with the high caste and because of its adherence to local conditions and caste stratification. Religiously, they remained endogamous and followed the liturgy in Syriac; socially, they maintained their caste status, received privileges from the provincial ruler, and, thus, were accepted as a caste. The Syrian Christians of the Malabar Coast were more staunch observers of caste than average Hindus, and they boasted of being more authentic adherents to the caste system than the Hindus were (Ayyar 1926:218). Outcastes were twice alienated: once from the Hindu society if they converted to Christianity and again from the state because of their low caste. Neither Hindu society nor the state ensured equal rights for Christian outcastes as they did for Hindu outcastes (Webster 1992:173–4). Christian outcastes were rejected by both the church and the state. Although colonial rule in Kerala worked against the caste system, the British created a class-oriented society endorsed by the Christianity that colonial rule implanted. Colonialism in Kerala began long before the British arrive. Foreigners wanting to trade with the local population arrive in the 15th century. Vasco Da Gama, the Portuguese explorer, arrived at Calicut port in 1498 (Kurien 2002). The Portuguese, through coercion and conspiracy, took control of the spice trade from the hands of Arabs and Mappilas (Muslims of Kerala). The Portuguese drove the Mappilas inland, where they became farmers on land controlled by Hindu landlords (Kurien 2002). When the British took control of Malabar in the 1800s, the Hindus, who had earlier fled to Travancore, returned to their native places in the

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north, and the British returned their lands to them. The British joint commissioners made agreements with the Hindu landlords and entrusted them with the right to collect the land revenue from the peasants. These Hindu landlords extracted a high rate of rent from the Mappila peasants, which caused discontent among the Mappila peasants (Menon 1967, 2003). The outcome was the rebellion of the Mappilas that widened the division between the Hindus and Muslims. Colonialism brought about some changes, but the real decisions affecting individuals and their social relationships continued to be made largely by the caste system. Koshy claims that “the two religious ideas that form the basis of this hierarchy are the idea of reincarnation and the principle of pollution” (Koshy 1968:11). Ritual pollution was refined to an extraordinary degree during British rule. For instance, Nambūtiris considered themselves to be polluted if they saw a shadow of a Parayā or Pulayā one hundred yards away (Dubois 1906:48–61, 178–86). Parayās were seen as slaves and the Brahmins regarded them with aversion and contempt to such an extent that they were considered to defile the Brahmins’ purity. Hindu untouchables underwent similar treatment when they were prohibited to walk on the streets of Nambūtiris. Similarly, the Pulayās, who dwelled in the forests of Malabar, were looked on as below the level of the beasts. The outcastes were forbidden from using public highways, and all castes were prohibited from holding an umbrella, even in the rainy season, except Brahmins. A salutation from a female to persons of higher rank was considered a lewd act, an act akin to uncovering one’s bosom (Matteer 1883). These were all instances of “othering.” The ideals, such as individualism and democracy, seeped into India as a part of colonialism because these ideals were linked to the type of free market the colonial rulers wanted to implement. All these changes had far-reaching effects throughout India. The British East India Company, which had conquered India during the 17th century, created a secure and profitable trade for themselves by developing markets in Europe for Indian products, especially fine-quality handmade Indian textiles (Metcalf and Metcalf 2002). Trade began in Bengal, on the eastern coast of India, and by 1750 the East India Company had acquired the whole region of Bengal. Drastic sociopolitical changes occurred as the British economy suffused with a dynamic commercial ethos sustained by secure private property rights changed the dynamics among India’s regional states (Metcalf and Metcalf 2002). By 1820, the British had colonized parts of India and essentially conquered the country. It was a challenge for them to govern India which was far away from their seat of power (Metcalf 1994). In 1828, William Bentinck’s arrival as the general of the East India Company marked the commencement of reforms based on the ideas of liberalism (Majumdar et al. 1953). Metcalf and Metcalf (2002) assert that the liberals were certain about the transformation of society because they believed individual selfreliance, character, and merit shaped society, not hierarchy that rewarded individuals on the basis of patronage and status. Liberals sought the freedom of individuals; they wanted everyone to become autonomous rational beings. They conceived that human nature was intrinsically the same everywhere and that human nature could be transformed – if not by sudden revelation as the evangelicals envisaged – by Westernized law, education, and free trade (Metcalf 1994).

Place 21 The free trade–focused commercialization of India during British colonialism encouraged private ownership, eroding traditional joint-ownership practice of land. This shift sharpened tension within the tribal society and can be seen as a turning point for the formation of identity, as seen in the Santal rebellion in 1855 (Singh 1966). A typical feature of such movements of “revitalization” was to borrow elements from Christianity or Hinduism, promising a sudden miraculous entry into a golden age (Sarkar 1983). During this time, a wide range of public figures claimed to be reformers and associated themselves with the National Social Conference, an enterprise founded in Bombay by the High Court Judge Mahadev Govind Ranade (1842–1901) and the Madras civil servant R. Raghunatha Rao (1831–1912), with the aim to persuade Indians to ‘modernize’ their values and behavior (Bayly 1999:155). Ranade delivered lectures on the drain of wealth; the experience of Deccan famine, 1876–1877; and the Hindu revivalist movement among Poona Brahmins, all of which inspired Vasudeo Balvant Phadke in Maharashtra, who was educated in the English education system of Poona. As an outcome, in 1879, there was the rising between nationalistic intelligentsia and militancy. In 1887, Ranade launched an all Indian social reform movement addressing issues of child marriage and widowhood, which had a significant outcome. Although Ranade employed the term movement, he did not trace out a bhakti movement (Hawley 2015). In 1884, Behramji Malabari’s notes on child marriage and widowhood stirred up the intellectuals, sparking an all Indian Hindu revival and reform movement. England and British officials forced the government to pass legislation which allowed widows to remarry in 1856 and pass the Age of Consent Act of 1891. The introduction of English education brought the liberal ideas of the West, gave people critical awareness regarding the past, and instilled new aspirations for the future (Majumdar et al. 1953). Western intellectuals criticized Indian customs, institutions, and ideas. The new Westernized culture prioritized reason and judgment over faith and belief, science over superstitions, and progress over immobility, including progress in the form of overcoming abuses of the current society (Majumdar et al. 1953). The following two cases demonstrate consciousness movements. The Pabna riot of Bengal in 1873 and the Deccan riots of Poona and Ahmednagar districts in 1875. In 1873 Bengal, the peasants of Yusufshahi pargana of Pabna organized an agrarian league and raised money to meet litigation fees (Sarkar 1983). As a result, the agrarian unrest and tenancy legislation fostered the growth of jotedar groups replacing the zamindars. In the 1875 Deccan riots, enraged villagers led by traditional headmen revolted against moneylenders. These agrarian consciousness movements were replaced by labor consciousness movements which emerged in the mid-1890s with the Calcutta jute mill riots (Chakrabarty 1976). These consciousness movements arrived in Kerala during the British rule. In Kerala, the 1921 Mappila rebellion unfolded yet another facet of consciousness. The Mappila rebellion in 1921 was the most serious and was part of the Khilāfat and noncooperation movements. It lasted for six months, and ten thousand people were killed (Panikkar 1999; Miller 1976). The Mappila outbreak was an expression of powerful resistance to the British political social order that

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empowered the jenmis (landlords) and kanamdars (who held on Kanam Malabar tenure). The British – despite claiming to reject the Indian caste system – often represented the upper strata of the Hindu caste hierarchy and empowered them to oppress and exploit cultivating tenants, practicing rack renting, high renewal fees, and frequent evictions (Gangadharan 2008). As a result, between 1882 and 1885, and again in 1896, a widespread revolt in the form of jenmi (Nambūtiri and Nair landlords) attacks took place in Ernād and Walluvanād taluks of south Malabar. Gangadharan explains that the tenants of Ernād and Walluvanād taluks (subdivisions of a district), including a large number of Mappilas, organized themselves in conjunction with the nationalist Khilāfat movement and agitated (Gangadharan 2008). Despite the British regime’s efforts to address their grievances, the Mappilas, through the noncooperation campaign of the Indian National Congress, rebelled against the regime. The Mappila movement influenced Āśān a great deal. He lived in Palghat, in the northern part of Kerala, at the time. Also inspired by the socioreligious reforms in other parts of Kerala was Vakkom Abdul Qadir Moulavi who started the Islam Dharma Paripālana Sangham in North Kerala. This group advocated a humane life for Muslims in a Kerala that they considered was currently tainted by superstitions and ignorance (Miller 1976). Moulavi considered education necessary for human development and called for the eradication of certain customs and practices in Kerala society. He also started the newspaper Swadeśābhimāni (meaning “Proud of One’s Own Country”) with Ramakrishna Pillai as its editor (Gangadharan 2003). Āyilyam Tirunāl ruled from 1860 to 1880 during this period in Travancore, the southern province of Kerala before its annexation to Cochin in 1956. He promoted the reforms that his predecessor, Utharam Tirunāl Mārthānda Varma (1847–1860) had initiated. For example, he declared a royal proclamation for the emancipation of child slaves, abolished the restriction requiring the upper parts of Shānar (lowcaste) women to be covered, opened a school for girls in Trivandrum, established the first post office, and opened the first coir factory in Alleppey (Gangadharan 2003). During Āyilyam Tirunāl’s reign, education flourished. His most significant contributions were the opening of the law school and the Kerala Secretariat at Trivandrum in 1869. In 1880, Viśākam Tirunāl came to power, ruling until 1885. He reorganized the police force and abolished many taxes. Śrī Mūlam Tirunāl ruled from 1885 to 1924, and this period was a great milestone in the development of education, with the establishment of technical and professional schools: the Sanskrit College, the Āyurveda College, a college for women, and a law college. After the death of Śrī Mūlam Tirunāl, Travancore came under the regency of Sethu Lakṣmi Bhāi (1924–1931) because the successor to the throne, Śrī Chitra Tirunāl Bālarāma Varma, was a minor. When Śrī Chitra Tirunāl came of age, he ascended to the throne and ruled from 1931 to 1949. In 1936, he declared the Temple Entry Proclamation, which allowed Hindus to enter temples regardless of their caste affiliations. Though these governmental changes were apparent to some extent as a result of British connection with Travancore starting in 1685 when the East India Company obtained land from Āṭṭingal Rāṇi and established a factory in Travancore, changes became more evident after 1816 when the Church Missionary Society (CMS) from

Place 23 the Church of England began to arrive. The primary purpose of the CMS was a mission to help the native Orthodox Church. However, in 1835, the CMS broke off its relationship with the local Syrian Church and the missionaries turned to the masses (Philip and Samuel 1999:13–14; Koshy 1968:13–14). At this point, a group of Syrian Christians left the Syrian Orthodox Church and joined the CMS to form the new Protestant Christian community within the Anglican Communion. On one hand, people who joined the CMS declared themselves to be from Brahmanical ancestry, and they adhered to caste principles. On the other hand, they believed in the redemptive work of Christ and promoted that through their reforms, such as the establishment of schools and colleges and the use of vernacular language, Malayalam for worship purposes. These aspects facilitated the creation of a selfidentity and individual freedom, which was later propelled by other missionary activities (Mohan 2005). When CMS missionaries arrived in Kerala, lower castes were deterred from education. Members of the Īzhava caste and below were illiterate; even the majority of the Syrian Christians were illiterate. With only a few exceptions in royal or Nambūtiri households, women in Kerala were uneducated regardless of caste or creed. The introduction of a new education system was brought about by missionary societies from Europe: London Missionary Society (LMS) in Travancore, Church Missionary Society in Cochin, and Basel Mission in Malabar as they established Christian schools and admitted all irrespective of caste or religion. In Malabar, measures were taken to introduce the new education system. In Cochin, around 1818, vernacular schools were established and in 1889 the government introduced the Grant-in-Aid code. Subsequently, primary education was brought under state control, and by 1911, the Education code was ready. In Travancore, the state took responsibility to impart free education to all children irrespective of caste or creed. Christian missionaries brought about change by providing education to all irrespective of caste and creed. British missionaries – following colonial rule in India – played an active role in the administrative policies of the state. Although the labor of the CMS among the lower-caste people in Kerala brought a large harvest of new converts from the lower strata of the society, many lower castes were still considered outcastes because the stigma of pollution continued to control the minds of the people. Under the tutelage of Colonel Munro (later, appointed the Divān of Travancore), who was deeply concerned about the welfare of the Īzhavas and considered it as a prerequisite for the development of a nation, British Christian missionaries advocated for the causes of the lower castes and their emancipation to accomplish their objective of eradicating the caste system (Yesudas 1975). The churches established by the missionaries in Kerala had members from the Brahmins to the Pulayās because the churches believed that through Christian baptism their caste was wiped away to such an extent that intermarriage was encouraged (Nellimukal 2004).2 In 1871, at Tiruvalla, Revered William John, a CMS priest, blessed the first intermarriage between a Nāyar boy and a Chova (one of the Īzhava subcastes) girl, both of whom had converted to Christianity. However, caste stigma was prevalent within the caste-oriented Kerala society. The Īzhavas benefited from the Christian missionaries, achieving social mobility based on education and land ownership

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(Beevi 2003). However, while the humanitarian aspect of the European capitalists in Travancore became an agency for emancipatory movements and had a significant effect on the transformation of the lower caste from their slave status, the changes primarily benefited the British-owned plantations (Chandramohan 1981:69–71). The changes did not lead them to exercise their freedom because they were still “under various regimes of extra-economic coercion exercised by the upper castes; especially the Nāyars and Syrian Christians” (Mohan 2005:340–1). The Christian missionary movement and the development of the printing press and educational reforms that came with colonial rule promoted a new wave of understanding that paved the way for modern thinking in the socioreligious sphere of Kerala. By early 1900s, Reverend Benjamin Bailey administered the CMS Press operations, and Reverend Claudius Buchanan translated the Bible into Malayalam and established parochial schools.3 Later, Reverend Bailey published the first Malayalam Bible with the help of Divan Munro in 1910, wanting to extend Christianity into Kerala (Logan 1997). Christianity promoted individual expression of language, and in Kerala, colonial rule also created space for the development of independent expression and language, promoting individual identity especially in low-caste members, many of whom converted to Christianity. Āśān was influenced by social and ideological changes implemented during colonial rule in India; this marked the genesis of new Hindu thought. This renaissance movement had an impact on Āśān, who was disturbed by Indian customs and laws that divided society into many levels. The Indian renaissance movement had its genesis in Bengal and from there spread in all directions across the Indian subcontinent. The Indian renaissance “gave new meaning to colonial Hinduism,” which was originated from the protected kingdoms, shrine centers, in the new context of “modern” Hindu (Bayly 1999:169). Rammohan Roy (1772–1833), the leader of the Indian renaissance movement, pioneered a revolt against “traditionalism” and, as such, denounced the effect of tradition (Bayly 1999). Those engaged in the renaissance movement intended for modernization – but not Westernization – to reinvigorate traditional values against Western culture and ideology (Chandra 1989:87–9). The reform movements became more obvious in other parts of India after the 1870s. Caste consciousness produced “sanskritizing” tendencies, whereby lower castes asserted higher caste status on their own by borrowing customs and practices from traditionally higher-caste groups because they were aware of the “legitimizing role” of the high-caste Brahmins (Srinivasan 1966).4 The Īzhavas were prohibited from worshiping higher gods and goddesses of the Hindu pantheon. They were allowed to worship among other lesser deities, Bhadrakāḷi, a form of Śakti, feminine power. As a corollary, in 1888, on the day of Śivarātṛi, in the town of Aruvippuram, an ascetic and Īzhava (a member of a Kerala low caste) by the name of Nānu Guru (1856–1928) appeared only in a loincloth and consecrated a Śiva lingam (Gopalakrishnan 1974; 1976).5 This silent revolution was aimed at breaking the hegemony created around the 7th or 8th century by the Brahmins. Nānu Guru challenged the Brahmins by entering into the sanctum sanctorum of the temple, claiming that the priestly ritual did not only

Place 25 belong to the Brahmins. When Brahmins questioned his act, Nānu Guru replied that he had “consecrated a Īzhava Śiva.” Nānu Guru became Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru and founded the Śrī Nārāyaṇa Dharma Paripālana Yōgam (SNDP) in 1903 with the manifesto, “One caste, one religion, one God for mankind.” Guru vehemently refuted the ideas of “untouchability and unapproachability,” of tīndil (approach) and todil (touch), which were widely practiced in Kerala. He addressed dehumanizing practices among women as well, such as tālikeṭṭu kalyāṇam, tirandukuḷi, and puḷikūṭṭi, and he wanted to uplift women and the low-caste people. Tālikeṭṭu Kalyāṇam, a mock wedding ceremony performed for prepubescent girls (twelve years and younger) when a single boy or groups of boys would tie a thread around her neck as in adult marriage; tirandukuḷi, a ritualistic ceremonial bath at puberty for girls are considered brides and the garment of investiture presented to the new bride at the groom’s house but often in a dark room, which sometimes resulted in offering the garment to a wrong girl; and, puḷikuṭṭi, performed in the seventh month of pregnancy in which the husband first gave his wife a sour-tasting herbal concoction to taste, opening thus an elaborate and extravagant celebration, which was economically cumbersome for the family (Thomas 1965; Kumaran 1971; Samuel 1977; Fuller 1976; Kunhappa 1982; Sanoo 1998; Balakrishnan 2000; Pati 2013, 2018). Guru aimed for the emancipation of the lower castes of Kerala and women, but low-caste women in Kerala did possess a privileged economic position as a result of matriliny and because of their jobs as field laborers (Bhattathiripad 1930, 2013).6 Guru’s appropriation of knowledge and rituals, however, can be seen as questioning the ideas of purity and impurity as well as the process of “othering” in the practice of the caste system in Kerala, and it can also be considered as affirming high-caste religious sensibility. In fact, one can understand a paradox – on the one hand he was transcending boundaries, and on the other he was consecrating a Brahmanical deity employing high caste ritual. As a disciple of the reformer Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru, Āśān found meaning in Guru’s acts and gained many of his reform notions from him. In 1920, at an all-Kerala conference in Aluva, Guru declared that regardless of religion, appearance, language, and so forth, everybody’s jāti (caste) is one, and therefore, intermarriage and interdining were not sinful. Additionally, his “sanskritization” process became evident when he and the SNDP organization reformed primitive forms of worship, including animism and indigenous practices involving blood offering and singing what they considered to be obscene songs. The “sanskritization” process can be understood as a modernizing process as in the case of Camārs (Cohn 1958). Similarly, the Īzhavas facilitated social mobility (Osella and Osella 2000). In 1915, one of the daily’s, Vivekodayam, stated that Swami removed the evil deities, like Yakṣi, Madanpītam, Bhūthathan, Codalamadan, Ezhakathipītam, Mallamkam Kāḷipītam, Karuppan, Erulan, and many others, from the Kottāttu Arumukhan Piḷḷayār Koil and the temples in the adjoining streets (Vivekodayam, January 1915).7 He went to such an extent to remove the lesser deities from the Īzhava households as well. Widespread acceptance of this reform resulted in Īzhavas passing a resolution to discard forms of worship considered now to be primitive. They requested the government to order a stop to animal sacrifice. As a result of such reform, from 1888 to 1927, Guru consecrated

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sixty-four temples, challenging the Brahmin hegemony in Kerala. Closely associated with the “sanskritization” tendency was the Temperance Movement, started in Gujarat by Swami Narayana (1771–1830). Narayana was the founder of the Swami Narayana sect of Hinduism that denounced the use of alcohol. In 1921, the SNDP yogam became part of this social reform and antidrinking became a means for social purity and eventually social mobility (Pati 2013). The Temperance Movement under the leadership of Guru aimed at gaining access to temples as they would be deemed pure by the savarṇa castes because the majority of the Īzhavas were toddy tappers. Additionally, Abkari policy of the government did not include antidrinking, and this affected the most lucrative business of the state. T. K. Madhavan and his co-workers resorted to a gradual fading away of this impure task of toddy shops. This reform promoted social mobility by renouncing the use of alcohol, which was considered a pollutant by high-caste Hindus. Many movements took place in Kerala during the colonial period with two objectives: first, freedom from the caste system and, second, freedom from colonial rule. Eradicating the caste system and the joint family system were of significance, as well. Chaṭṭambi Swāmikal (1853–1924), emphasized monotheism and challenged the social and religious norms of Kerala. Bayly rightly points that “the newly formed fellowships of so-called ‘theists’ and ‘liberal religionists’ also used techniques of public declaration and recruitment to communicate ideals of transcendent divinity and all-embracing moral community” (Bayly 1999:170). In contrast, Sahodaran Ayyappan (1889–1968), changed his motto to “no religion, no caste, and no God for mankind” (Chandra 1989:88). Both these ideas, although distinct, emphasized oneness within the divided caste-oriented society of Kerala. Ayyankāḷi (1863–1941), a contemporary of Āśān and Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru, devoted his life to the uplifting of the Pulayās, a Kerala group of agricultural laborers considered untouchable. Pulayās were restricted to traveling by foot on public roads. Ayyankāḷi challenged this caste restriction by traveling in a bullock cart on public roads. He started the first school for Pulayās in Trivandrum in 1904 and founded the Sādhu Jana Paripālana Sangham in 1905, which brought together Pulayās to work toward their welfare and rights (Jaseem 2005). In 1914, lower-caste children were admitted to public schools as per the Pulayā protests under the leadership of Ayyankāḷi. Apart from these local movements, the nationalistic and renaissance movements migrated into Kerala and gave rise to Vaikom Satyāgraha8 and Guruvāyur Satyāgraha,9 two movements that necessitated the Temple Entry Proclamation. Vaikom Satyāgraha, led by C. Krishnan and T. K. Madhavan, was a revolt against the temple entry provision in Kerala that lasted for twenty months, and in this provision, outcastes were prohibited from entering the temple. Āśān lived in a context where freedom struggle became part of our blood; every energy was focused toward the abolishment of prevalent social injustices based on individualism and consciousness among the population (Benjamin 1993). This individualism was against the caste system and the joint family system. Individual freedom was integral for modern period social movements. This history and understanding of caste in Kerala were integral to Āśān’s thought and inspired him to write poems that broke down walls of differences. Although the move toward

Place 27 independence from British rule and the breaking of the domination of the caste system were intertwined in Kerala, the annihilation of the caste system and the eradication of the joint family system known as taṟavātu was most important. This becomes apparent when one examines Āśān’s poems that yearn for freedom at the individual, as well the social level. For him, freedom meant “self-means for survival” (Devika 2002:10). Although Devika (2002) argues that swātantryam, or freedom, is a means to self-survival with regard to women’s space in Kerala, it can also be associated with Āśān’s concept of freedom because for him individual emancipation becomes necessary for social emancipation. It is not surprising that family structures and kinship patterns in Kerala society changed under colonialism. Colonial influence interrogated marriage and land practices, which had formed the basis for upper caste hegemony by the Brahmins and the Nāyars. The marriage and land ownership changes weakened their economic position and led to the dismantling of the hegemonic structure (Kurien 2002:53). For example, the Nāyar community of Kerala entirely gave up the kinship system (Arunima 2003:14).10 In a traditional context, a person cannot opt for a particular caste; one falls into a certain caste by birth in the same way that one falls into a taṟavātu, and to belong to a taṟavātu means to possess power, wealth, status, and privilege (Benjamin 1993:19). British colonialism asserted that both these systems negated the individualism of a person and affirmed his or her personhood only in the light of his or her caste and taṟavātu. The taṟavātu gives prominence to the kāraṇavan (head of the household) rather than to any other individual; moreover, the head of the joint family household has the only say regarding the taṟavātu’s greatness or goodness (Arunima 2003:11). For instance, the Cherumars, untouchable slaves of Malabar, were unable to bear the oppression of their landlords as they were believed to pollute from a distance (Menon 1994). As Dilip Menon emphasizes, [t]he authority exercised by the tharavadus was also manifested in the degree of restrictions placed on the movement, dress, and speech of lower caste tenants and laborers. Significantly, such restraints fell more heavily on the backs of those working on a tharavadu’s wetlands, mainly Cherumas and Pulayas, and those dependent on it for lands or sustenance. It was not so much the operation of the abstract set of caste rules which is evident in the restrictions but the fact that deference was embedded in quotidian routines of speech, dress and manner. (1994:19) Educational reform, in particular, impacted the taṟavātu system, especially among the Nāyars. Educated in the English school system, the younger generation of Nāyars possessed employment and income and, therefore, did not have to rely on the head of their households. This shook the foundations of the taṟavātu system. In the Nāyar caste, Marumakkattāyam (matrilineality) was practiced; that is, property and other rights women possessed within the biological taṟavātu were not altered with marriage.11 Marumakkattāyam is a system whereby the head of the

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household divided the ancestral property and wealth among his daughter’s children instead of among his sons and their children. As a result of colonial rule and Western ideas, this age-old Marumakkattāyam matrilineality system of Kerala was destroyed. The younger generations took money from their father instead of the head of the household, which turned their loyalty toward their father rather than the head of the household. Young Nāyars called for family reform, and in the 1890s, some of them took legislative steps to reform the matrilineal system (Jeffery 1976:253). Younger generations filed a petition against the household system, and in 1933, the Marumakkattāyam Act stated that ancestral property should be equally divided among every member of the family. Later, by the 1950s, the Nāyars had adopted the more “respectable” Westernized British practices of monogamy, patrilineality, patrilocality, and greater patriarchy (Kurien 2002:53). The colonial rejection of matriarchy sought to construct a “manly” Hindu instead of a perceived “effeminate” Hindu (van der Veer 2001:83–105). Patriarchy was preserved with the caste system of premodern society and worked to sanction the oppression of women (Dirks 2001). This ramification of caste in Kerala during the modern period continued its oppressive function in new ways. As Nicholas Dirks argues that in the colonial period, [c]aste has become the focus of progressive movements and of debates – both local and national . . . and the uncomfortable reminder that community is always segmented by class, gender, and region, that they might be threatened less by religious difference than by other pervasive grounds of difference; it is a reminder that all claims about community are claims about privilege, participation, and exclusion. (Dirks 2001:17) At the same time, colonialism introduced the commercialization of agriculture by permitting the participation of the lower castes who improved their socioeconomic situation with the help of the British missionaries. Within the agrarian society of Kerala, various groups sought to maximize their returns in the crop production and rural economy. This led to an agricultural-based capitalism. The Īzhavas, Muslims, and Syrian Christians benefited most from the commercialization of agricultural products by being active in trade and commerce. The commercial trade and commerce not only brought economic change, but they also brought social. Socially, it allowed Christian Īzhava women to cover their upper body while in church (Nellimukal 2004:265–77), a reform that was encouraged by Utharam Tirunāl at the societal level. Although Īzhavas gained access to certain institutions, certain occupations, and some economic prosperity, they still were considered impure because untouchability and unapproachability prevailed in modern Kerala. These prevailing cultural constructs became obvious when Īzhavas sought employment in the government. With the influx of English education, the competition for a government position increased. The government of Travancore preferred to employ non-Malayāḷi Brahmins instead of Malayāḷis, and in 1891, the government refused to hire outcaste people, which unsurprisingly, caused

Place 29 resentment among the outcastes. Īzhavas and other “backward” communities were denied the right to admission to government schools, as well as access to public services. Dr. Palpu, one of the Īzhava and a medical doctor by profession, had to seek employment in the adjoining state of Mysore after being denied by the Travancore Medical Department. The Īzhava Memorial asked the maharaja to confer on the Īzhavas equal rights and privileges enjoyed by those of their caste who had converted to Christianity. Īzhava Christians were considered to be outside the caste hierarchy and were given privileges as full as those of the high castes. Both the Īzhava Memorial and the Malayāḷi Memorial sought employment for low-caste people and in that way, affirmed caste discrimination and its perpetuation. The lower castes’ political consciousness resulted in some changes. On September 3, 1896, the Īzhava Memorial was signed by 13,176 members of the Īzhava community under the leadership of Dr. Palpu. In 1900, during the visit of the viceroy of India Lord Curzon to Trivandrum, the Īzhava community made a second request for the Īzhava Memorial to be adopted (Menon 1967, 2003). They started protesting through the newspapers when their request was refused. Through this chapter, I attempted to highlight the prevalence of caste system, colonialism, and socioreligious reforms, all of which shaped the context of Kerala during this period and thus, shaped Āśān’s poetry. There was more political unrest during the reign of Śrī Mūlam Tirunāl in Travancore that I did not touch on. Ramakrishna Pillai, influenced by Marxism, refuted the policies of the Divān and published his views in the local periodical Swadeśābhimāni to stir up political strife. He was deported from the state and the publisher of the periodical was taken into custody by the government. In 1919, with the leadership of A. K. Pillai and V. Achutha Menon, a congressional committee was formed in Trivandrum with the objective of boycotting all foreign goods. In 1922, students protested against the rise in tuition fees. The government never gave into such agitations. After Āśān’s death in 1924, the State People’s Conference was held in 1929 at Trivandrum under the presidency of M. Visweswariah, and it passed a resolution demanding the introduction of responsible government in Indian states. Eventually, people at the conference formed the Samyukta Rashtriya Samithi (Joint Political Congress) and organized a nivarthana (abstention) agitation to rally for voting in the forthcoming election against the British regime (Kusuman 1976). The government declared these organizations unlawful. The State Congress Working Committee launched a Civil Disobedience Movement on 26 August 1938. The Civil Disobedience Movement began strong, but at the request of Mahatma Gandhi later, the State Congress Working Committee withdrew itself from the Civil Disobedience Movement, creating a split. The radical portion of the State Congress Working Committee formed the Communist Party in Kerala. The divan, C. P. Ramaswamy Ayyar, insisted on the withdrawal of the memorial presented to the maharaja as a condition precedent to the conduct of any negotiations between the government and the state congress on the subject of constitutional reforms in Travancore. Āśān and his poems embody struggles and ideas of self, love, and freedom, common inquiries during his time as seen in the diverse social, cultural, religious,

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colonial, and caste struggles in Kerala. Despite reformation and reorganization of government administration, and despite the Westernized English education that brought a certain amount of freedom to those enslaved by the caste system in Kerala, the Brahmins and other high-caste people still enjoyed a secure, privileged position, and “othering” still continued, questioning human dignity and selfhood. These struggles among caste groups were tangled up with colonial empire and missionary activities, Indian nationalist, and socioreligious reforms. All shaped the poet’s experience and expression. It is to the person we now turn our attention.

Notes 1 Interview recorded by Cyriac Pullapilly, R. Sankar and K. Balarama Panikar in Cyriac K. Pullapilly, The Izhavas of Kerala and their Historic Struggle for Acceptance in the Hindu Society. In Bardwell L. Smith, ed., Religion and Social Conflict in South Asia (Leiden: Brill, 1976), pp. 24–46. 2 Cf. Susan Bayly, Saints, Goddesses, and Kings (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), pp. 292–300. 3 Logan, Malabar, 207; John Chandy. The Rev. Benjamin Bailey and the Kottayam C.M.S. Press. In T. K. Joseph, ed., Kerala Society Papers (Trivandrum: Kerala State Gazetteer, 1997), pp. 213–16. 4 Cf. M. N. Srinivas, Caste in Modern India and Other Essays (New York: Asia Publishing House, 1962), pp. 42–9. 5 Cf. P. K. Gopalakrishnan, Sri Nārāyaṇa Guru: Father of Kerala Renaissance. In M. G. S. Nārāyaṇan and K. K. N. Kuṟupp, eds., Historical Studies in Kerala (Calicut: Calicut University, 1976), pp. 51–4. 6 Cf. V. T. Bhattathiripad, Adukkalayilninnum Arangathekku (drama) (Kozhikode: 1930; Kottayam: D. C. Books, 2013). 7 Vivekodayam, Vol. II. No.10 (Makaram 1090 ME; January 1915), p. 354. 8 Cf. Osella and Osella (2000:157–8), Sanoo (1998:179–83), T. Bhaskaran (2003:164–70), and K. P. Kesava Menon (54–60). 9 Cf. Osella and Osella (2000:157–8) and S. Ramachandran Nair (2004:95–9). 10 Cf. Leela Dube (1996) and Osella and Osella (2000:50). 11 C. J. Fuller (1976:123–49) and Arunima (2003:13).

References Anderson, Benedict. (1983). Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso. Arunima, G. (2003). There Comes Papa. New Delhi: Orient Longman. Balakrishnan, P. K. (2000). Nārayaṇaguru. Thrissur: Kerala Sahitya Academi. Bayly, Susan. (1999). Caste, Society, and Politics in India from the Eighteenth Century to the Modern Age. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Beevi, M. Noorjam. (2003). The Ezhavas and the Ownership of Land: A Case Study of Travancore. Journal of Kerala Studies, Vol. 30, pp. 69–92. Benjamin, D. (1993). Āśānum Āśānte Kālakhattavum. In M. P. Subhash, ed., Āśānum Āśānte Kālakhattavum: Prabandangal. Thonnackal: Kumāran Āśān Smārakam. Bhabha, Homi K. (1994). The Location of Culture. London: Routledge. Bhaskaran, T. (2003). Maharshi Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru. Trivandrum: Cultural Publication Department. Bhattathiripad, Vellithuruthi Thazhathu. (1930; 2013). Adukkalayilninnum Arangathekku. Kottayam: D. C. Books.

Place 31 Chakrabarty, Dipesh. (1976). Communal Riots and Labour: Bengal’s Jute Millhands in the 1890s. Center for Studies in Social Sciences. Calcutta: Occasional Papers no. 11. Chandra, Bipan. (1989). India’s Struggle for Independence, 1857–1947. New Delhi: Penguin Books. Chandramohan, P. (1981). Social and Political Protest in Travancore: A Study of the Sree Narayana Dharma Paripalana Yogam (1900–1938). Unpublished M. Phil. Thesis, Jawaharlal Nehru University. Cohn, Bernard S. (1958). Changing Traditions of a Low Caste. Journal of American Folklore, Vol. 71 (July–September), pp. 413–21. Damodaran, K. (1962). Kerala Caritṛam. Trichur: Kerala Sahitya Akademi. Devika, Jayakumari (2002). Imagining Women’s Social Space in Early Modern Keralam. Thiruvananthapuram: Centre for Development Studies. Dimitrova, Diana. (2014). The Other in South Asian Religion, Literature, and Film: Perspectives on Otherism and Otherness. Abingdon, UK: Routledge. Dirks, Nicholas. (2001). Castes of Mind: Colonialism and the Making of Modern India. New Delhi: Permanent Black. Dube, Leela. (1996). Kinship and Gender in South and South East Asia: Patterns and Contrasts. New Delhi: Centre for Women’s Development Studies. Dubois, Abbe J. A. (1906). Hindu Manners, Customs, and Ceremonies. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Fuller, Christopher J. (1976). The Nayars Today. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Gangadharan, T. K. (2003). Evolution of Kerala History and Culture. Calicut: Calicut University Central. Gangadharan, M. (2008). The Malabar Rebellion. Kottayam: D. C. Books. Gopalakrishnan, P. K. (1974). Keralatinte Sāmskārika Caritṛam. Thiruvananthapuram: State Institute of Languages. Gopalakrishnan, P. K. (1976). Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru: Father of Kerala Renaissance. In M. G. S. Nārāyaṇan and K. K. N. Kuṟupp, eds., Historical Studies in Kerala. Calicut: Calicut University, pp. 51–4. Hawley, John Stratton. (2015). A Storm of Songs: India and the Idea of the Bhakti Movement. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Ayyar, L. K. Anantakrishna. (1926). Anthropology of the Syrian Christians. Ernakulam: Cochin Government Press. Jaseem, S. (2005). Ayyankali and Sadhujana Paripalan Sangham: A Study. Journal of Kerala Studies, Vol. 32, pp. 117–28. Jeffery, Robin. (1976). The Decline of Nayar Dominance: Society and Politics in Travancore 1847–1908. New York: Holmes and Meier Publishers, Inc. Koshy, Ninan. (1968). Caste in the Kerala Churches. Bangalore: The Christian Institute for the Study of Religion and Society. Kumaran, Murkothu. (1971). Sree Narayana Guru Swāmikalude Jīva Caritṛam (Mal.). Calicut: P. K. Brothers. Kunhappa, Murkoth. (1982). Sree Narayana Guru. New Delhi: National Book Trust. Kurien, Prema A. (2002). Kaleidoscopic Ethnicity: International Migration and the Reconstruction of Community Identity in India. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Kusuman, K. K. (1976). The Abstention Movement. Trivandrum: Kerala Historical Society. Logan, Malabar, 207; John Chandy. (1997). The Rev. Benjamin Bailey and the Kottayam C.M.S. Press. In T. K. Joseph, ed., Kerala Society Papers. Trivandrum: Kerala State Gazetteer, pp. 213–16.

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Majumdar, Ramesh Chandra et al. (1953). An Advanced History of India . London: Macmillan and Co. Matteer, Samuel. (1883). Native Life in Travancore. New Delhi: Reprint by Asian Educational Services. Menon, A. Sreedhara. (1967, 2003). A Survey of Kerala History. Chennai: S. Visvanathan Publishers. Menon, Dilip. (1994). Caste, Nationalism, and Communism in South India, Malabar, 1900–1948. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Menon, K. P. Kesava. (1976). Vaikom Satyagraha. In M. G. S. Nārāyaṇan and K. K. N. Kurup, eds., Historical Studies in Kerala. Calicut: Calicut University, pp. 54–60. Metcalf, Barbara D. and Metcalf, Thomas R. (2002). A Concise History of India. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Metcalf, Thomas R. (1994). Ideologies of the Raj: The New Cambridge History of India, Vol. 3.4. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Miller, Roland E. (1976). Mappila Muslims of Kerala. New Delhi: Orient Longman. Mohan, P. Sanal. (2005). Imagining Equality: Modernity and Social Transformation of Lower Castes in Colonial Kerala. Unpublished Ph.D. Thesis. Kottayam: Mahatma Gandhi University. Nair, P. K. Parameswaran. Malayāḷa Sāhitya Caritram. Sahitya Akademi, 1969. Nair, S. Ramachandran. (2004). Freedom Struggle in Colonial Kerala. Thiruvananthapuram: St. Joseph Press. Namboodiripad, Elamkulam Manakkal Sankaran. (1952). National Questions in Kerala. Bombay: Peoples Publishing House. Namboodiripad, Elamkulam Manakkal Sankaran. (1968). Kerala Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow. Calcutta: National Book Agency. Nellimukal, Samuel. (2004). Keralatile Sāmūhyaparivartanam. Kottayam: DC Books. Osella, Filippo and Osella, Caroline. (2000). Social Mobility in Kerala: Modernity and Identity in Conflict. London: Pluto. Panikkar, K. N. (1977). Land Control, Ideology, and Reform: A Study of Changes in Family Organizations and Marriage System in Kerala. Indian Historical Review, Vol. 4, No. 1. Panikkar, K. N. (1999). Peasant Protests and Revolts. In P. J. Cherian, ed., Perspectives on Kerala History. Thiruvananthapuram: Kerala Gazetteers. Pati, George. (2013). Narayana Guru. In Knut A. Jacobsen, ed., Brill’s Encyclopedia of Hinduism: Symbolism, Diaspora, Modern Issues , Vol. 5. Leiden: E. J. Brill, pp. 559–65. Pati, George. (2018). Movements, Miracles, and Mysticism: Apotheosis of Sree Narayana Guru of Early Twentieth Century Kerala. In Diana Dimitrova and Tatiana Oranskaia, eds., Divinization in South Asian Traditions. London: Routledge, pp. 115–30. Philip, Ashok Alex and Samuel, Joseph, eds. (1999). Church Missionary Society: Contributions and Tributes. Kottayam: C.S.I. Youth Study Forum, Diocese of Madhya Kerala. Pillai, Elamkulam Kunjan. (1963). Kerala Caritṛa Praśnaṅgal. Kottayam: National Book Stall. Pullapilly, Cyriac K. (1976). The Izhavas of Kerala and Their Historic Struggle for Acceptance in the Hindu Society. In Bardwell L. Smith, ed., Religion and Social Conflict in South Asia. Leiden: Brill Publishers, pp. 24–46. Rambachan, Anantanand. (2015). A Hindu Theology of Liberation: Not-Two is Not One. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press. Said, Edward W. (1978). Orientalism. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Samuel, V. T. (1977). One Caste, One Religion, One God: A Study of Sree Narayana Guru. New Delhi: Sterling Publishers Pvt. Ltd.

Place 33 Sanoo, M. K. (1998). Nārāyaṇa Guru. Bombay: Bharathiya Vidya Bhavan. Sarkar, Sumit. (1983). Modern India 1885–1947. New Delhi: Macmillan. Singh, K. Suresh. (1966). Dust Storm and Hanging Mist: A Study of Birsa Munda and His Movement in Chotanagpur. Calcutta: Firma K. L. Mukhopadhyay. Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. (1985). The Rani of Sirmur: An Essay in Reading the Archives. History and Theory, Vol. 24, No. 3 (October), pp. 247–72. Srinivasan, Mysore Narasimhachar. (1962). Caste in Modern India and Other Essays. New York: Asia Publishing House. Srinivasan, Mysore Narasimhachar. (1966). Social Change in Modern India. Berkeley: University of California Press. Thomas, Daniel. (1965). Sree Narayana Guru. Bangalore: CISRS. van der Veer, Peter. (2001). Imperial Encounters: Religion and Modernity in India and Britain. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Veluthat, Kesavan. (1978). Brahmin Settlements in Kerala: Historical Studies. Calicut: Calicut University, Sandhya Publications. Veluthat, Kesavan. (2009). The Early Medieval in South India. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Vivekodayam. (1915). Vol. II. No.10 (Makaram 1090 ME; English Calendar January). Webster, John C. B. (1992). A History of the Dalit Christians in India. San Francisco, CA: Mellen Research University. Yesudas, R. N. (1975). A People’s Revolt in Travancore: A Backward Class Movement for Social Freedom. Trivandrum: Kerala Historical Society.

3

Person Mahākavi Kumāran Āśān (1873–1924)

Mahākavi Kumāran Āśān1 was born into a Īzhava caste family in colonial Kerala. The caste system was rigid, but the freedom struggle, the nationalist movement, and the Indian renaissance movement were all gaining momentum. Āśān lived in several regions of India and this exposure shaped his vision of a utopian community. He was also shaped by the mystical figure of the Malayalam tradition, Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru, as well as by the works of Western romantic poets, such as William Wordsworth, Samuel Coleridge, John Keats, and Percy Bysshe Shelley. The romantic tropes included everyday experience, remembering self-expression and feelings, and an emphasis on setting depicted as long ago, far away, transcendent, and internal. Additionally, the plot is driven by character, emotion, passion and tragic ending. Āśān’s poetics of reform was a hybrid expression of motifs from Sanskrit, Tamil, and Malayalam literature and was later interspersed with English Romantic tropes to contribute to modern Malayalam poetry. His lyric poems and shorter poems illustrate this aspect of hybridization. In fact, Āśān’s hybridization was adding another layer to the hybridization already present in Malayalam language and literature.2 Āśān’s poetics – including both native and Western motifs presenting his social experience and imagination blurring boundaries and establishing categories – can be understood as hybridity providing a space for subaltern agency. His poetic craft entitled him to be Mahākavi, great poet, and inaugurates modernity in Malayalam poetry. As Edward C. Dimock (1974) rightly recognized that modernity in Malayalam letters began with Āśān. In examining Āśān’s poetics, this chapter demonstrates that his works provide a hybrid third space in which subaltern agency can be realized as counterhegemony (Bhabha 1994). Hybridity is the in-between space that provides a terrain for elaborating strategies of selfhood, bringing both contemporary culture and history into the ambit of critical discourse and providing a strategic process to examine the complexities of modernity (Bhabha 1994). There is an ambivalence to this discourse of hybridity. It is both the “third space” where colonial hybrid identity is formed and emerged, and it is also an “interruptive, interrogative, and enunciative” (Bhabha 1994) space blurring existing boundaries and questioning established categorizations of culture and identity. This hybrid third space as seen in Āśān’s poetics is an ambivalent site and is a mode of articulation of social

Person

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experience producing new identities and possibilities. In this third space, Āśān depicted the divide between the savarṇas (“fair colored,” refers to the ritually pure and twice-born castes) and avaraṇas (“dark colored,” refers to the lowcastes) where untouchability and unapproachability were practiced in colonial Kerala as mentioned in the previous chapter. Constructing a third space, Āśān’s poetics are a resistive force against cultural hegemony and in favor of the emancipation of the lower caste and the subjugated. As a student of Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru, he was influenced by his philosophy; he was also influenced by the SNDP Yōgam, which gave him an impetus for his goals of achieving social and political change. This chapter sketches Āśān’s biography and writings that advanced him toward humanism, love, and an imaginative utopian community. Many of his works are grounded in the Hindu notion of devotion to a deity, bhakti, and his education and experience at various places in India. Kumāran Āśān was born on 12 April 1873 (1048 Medam 1, Malayalam Era),3 to Nārāyaṇan and Kāḷiamma in Kāyikkara, a coastal village, twenty-five miles north of Trivandrum.4 He was their second son. Āśān’s parents lived in a small hamlet called Thommanvilakam. Nārāyaṇan, an intelligent, honest, and ardent devotee of Śiva, was a merchant who participated in the social activities of the community and looked after his family well. He was prominent in the Īzhava community (Kumaran and Srinivasan 1985:26). He was well read in Malayalam literature and possessed a general knowledge of Tamil literature. He was also a trained singer in the sopānam tradition of the classical tradition, and he composed many kīrtanams (praise hymns) in Malayalam. Āśān’s paternal roots were in the Karunagapally district, from the Thazhava Vattathumuriyil Thodiyil taṟavātu. He was a source of inspiration for the establishment of a government school in the Kāyikkara region. Moreover, his association with Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru was highly regarded. Guru frequently visited Āśān’s family, accepting their invitations because of their devotion to God. Āśān’s mother, Kāḷiamma, was also an ardent devotee of Śiva. She did not possess any formal education, yet she knew the Hindu epics and Purāṇas well enough to instruct her children. Āśān’s mother was compassionate toward the poor, sick, and needy. In 1903, when Āśān was the secretary of SNDP, his mother, in the course of helping a neighbor suffering from smallpox, contracted the illness and died. His mother’s compassion and love for her neighbor led to her death, but how she died illustrates the extent to which she helped people in need. Āśān’s father died in 1896, when Āśān was in Bangalore. Āśān began his elementary education at the age of seven when Thundathil Perumāl Āśān Nedungdayil enrolled him in his hut school (Kumaran and Srinivasan 1985:29; Kamalamma 1989:25). He studied the basics of reading and writing for a year under this teacher, after which, in 1881, he went to learn Sanskrit under the guidance of renowned Sanskrit scholar Udayankuzhi Kochuraman Vaidyar. With Vaidyar, he studied classical Sanskrit texts Siddharūpam, Amarkośam, Śrirāmodantam, Śrikṛṣṇavilāsam, and Raghuvamśam (Kumaran and Srinivasan 1985:29). Vaidyar was retiring though, so Āśān had to discontinue Sanskrit studies

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with him. As a result, Āśān stayed home for a year because there were no Sanskrit schools nearby. When Āśān was eleven, his father enrolled him in the government school where he learned English. The headmaster Navyakuḷḷam Kumārapiḷḷa encouraged students in worship and devotion to a deity, especially during Mahānavami and Vijaydaśami (the holy days of the Hindu calendar), and Āśān participated without fail (Kumaran and Srinivasan 1985:33). Āśān grew to be an ardent devotee. Even at such an early age, only fourteen to seventeen years old, Āśān enthusiastically went to the temple. Āśān was engrossed in nāmajappam, reciting the name of God, an important aspect of devotion as per Purāṇic theism. In addition, he visited the nearby Bhadrakāḷi temple, sang praises to the goddess, forgetting to eat and drink while doing so. When his friends visited the temple, he took delight in reading and explaining Kāḷistōtṛam, the hymns in praise of goddess Kāḷi, to them. Other devotees would visit the temple and listen to him teach from the sacred texts and singing praises with a seriousness that earned him the title “Āśān,” or “teacher.”5 The various praises that Āśān wrote in the temple as a result of deep meditation reflected his attitude toward performing devotional worship. Apart from his devotion to a deity and academic excellence, he was like any other boy his age who liked playing with friends. In 1887, at age fourteen, Āśān graduated class four, that is, the eighth grade.6 He was accepted as a teacher in the same school from which he graduated, and he was quickly named one of the best teachers of the school. This honor was astonishing to the Nāyars, who considered themselves higher than the Īzhava, Āśān’s caste; however, he was forced to resign from his teaching position because of age restrictions (Kumaran and Srinivasan 1985:32). From 1887 to 1889, he managed the accounts of Perumthara Kocharyan Muthulalli. During these two years, he read Malayalam and Tamil books expansively, including those on the basics of poetry composition (Kamalamma 1989:25). Āśān, like most of the other poets of his generation, began his poetic career within the Malayalam literary tradition. The establishment of English medium schools under the patronage of Mahārāja Swāti Tirunāl (1813–1847) had a remarkable influence on Malayalam literature that continued well after Tirunal’s death. One might assume that Malayalam suffered from the emphasis on English, but the schools promoted Malayalam literature as well.7 The spread of English education and the establishment of many schools increased literacy throughout Kerala, in general. Malayalam literature was a new space in which to negotiate identity and individualism and aspiration for freedom, as A. R. Rājarāja Varma and few others assimilated the free spirit of English poetry propelling change in composing poetry (George 1972). The spread of English education created an enhanced awareness among the people of Kerala regarding their individualism. Education was made accessible to all by the Education Reforms of 1894, and Christian missionaries played a significant role in educating the lower-caste members in Kerala (Kawashima 1998). Christian missionaries encouraged the use of local languages such as Malayalam, using them to preach and teach Christian doctrines to the

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masses. Access to printing presses grew, printing translations of the Bible and other religious works from English to Malayalam; the publication of newspapers and periodicals in local languages grew as well, as did dictionaries and grammar manuals. During Āśān’s life, many missionaries wrote prose and translated English works into Malayalam. George Mathen published the first religious journal, Jñānanikṣepam, from Kottayam, and Kandathil Varghese Mappila published the Malayalam literary weekly Keraḷamitram in 1881. Christian missionaries Benjamin Bailey (1805–1871), Joseph Peet, Richard Collins (attached to the Church Missionary Society [CMS]), George Mathen (1819–1870; a native of Travancore), and, most significantly, Hermann Gundert (1814–1893; attached to the Basel Mission) translated many Malayalam works. Hermann Gundert was a German scholar who arrived in India in 1836 and wrote more than twenty books in Malayalam, including a Malayalam dictionary and grammar book.8 During this time, the Mahārāja of Travancore, Āyilyam Tirunal Rāma Varma (1832–1880), who was a great patron of letters, contributed to Malayalam prose literature by writing Mīnaketanacaritam and Bhāśa Śakuntalam, one an Arabian tale and the other a translation of Kāḷidāsa’s Abhijāna Śakuntalam. In 1876, Vaikam Patchu Moothathu published the Grammar of Malayalam, and, in 1878, Kovunni Nedungadi published Kerala Kaumudi, a history book of language. It explicated the relationship between Sanskrit and Malayalam. P. Govinda Pillai (1849–1897) published the first history of the Malayalam language in 1881, and in the same year, Father Gerard published the first Malayalam rhetoric book, titled Alamkāraśāstram, based on the European model. (Paniker 1977:35). Western influence had been well established by the end of the 19th century. At the same time, the increased circulation of newspapers and books enabled literary development. This rapid growth in education and empowerment necessitated a common set of textbooks for classes in Malayalam. A textbook committee formed at the national level. It was Mahārāja Āyilyam Tirunāl of Travancore and his Divān, Madhava Rao, who constituted the first Textbook Committee of Kerala (Nair 1967). These developments were significant in promoting prose as a genre, as Krishna Kripalani asserted. In the context of Bengal, the textbooks written, and the translations published, by the Baptist Mission Press provided the incentive to develop prose (Kripalani 1975). Additionally, journalism, as it advanced, used every kind of literary practice in Malayalam literature, making prose more common. From 1860 to 1892, newspapers and magazines began circulating in Kerala, and each possessed its own focus, providing authors an open venue to express their ideas.9 Although initially Malayalam newspapers only printed religious subjects, some, like the Satyānanda Kāhaḷam permitted space for non-religious writings (Nair 1967). This period saw the rise of novels, new to Malayalam literature.10 During the early half of the 20th century, the grand trio of this period – Kumāran Āśān (1873– 1924), Ulloor Parameswaran Iyer (1877–1949), and Vallathol Narayana Menon (1879–1958) – brought radical reform to Malayalam literature. They all were trained in the classical tradition; however, their contact with Western ideas and

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literature awakened them to the romantic movement. As a result, they produced khanda kāvyas, lyrics, odes, and sonnets. Ulloor’s masterpiece Uma Keralam embodies devotion: devotion to land, language, poetic tradition, and high moral values (Paniker 1977). Vallathol, trained in classicism, was a genius of romanticism and renaissance; his works Bandhanasthanaya Aniruddhan (1914), Śiṣyanum Makanum (1918), and Magdalana Mariam (1921) and his short lyrics in Sāhitya Mañjari reflected the socioreligious context of Kerala (Paniker 1977). Āśān employed the deep, intense, grand style of Ezhuthacchan; perhaps Āśān was able to associate with him as an avarṇa, who was educated in traditional āśān pallikoodams, schools, providing a new literary style, and the impetus was to critique the existing caste discrimination. Malayalam novels about untouchable groups increased as well. Christianity and its rhetoric of equality and brotherhood proved good (Menon 2006), as the religious identity marked self-identity and mode of social mobility transcending caste boundaries. Conversion to Christianity was a means to “modernity, anonymity, and mobility” (to borrow Menon’s terms) as illustrated in Potheri Kunhambu’s novel, Saraswatīvijayam (1893) (Menon 2006). O. Chandu Menon’s novel Indulekha (1889) reflects how people began to realize their individuality, portraying tension within the taṟavātu, joint household, caused by those who refuted the marumakkattāyam, or matrilineal system, among the Nāyar caste. Indulekha personifies the new style and subject matter in Malayalam novels. English education becomes an imperative for reform in the novel. The main character in Indulekha, Madhavan, has an English education, and his acceptance of colonial ideology makes him unique. Here, knowledge becomes a legitimizing force for self-identity displacing its earliest forms of “genealogical skeleton to the far fuller forms of biographies and chronicles” and “to science during the modern age” (Thapar 1991:36). These works present “modernity” through both a new genre and new ideas, as they emphasize individualism and annihilate the age-old taṟavātu system of Kerala. The representation of social mobility became central in some of the novels written during this time illustrating the imagination of redemption. As Dilip Menon argues, “while the central message of redemption allows for transformation of the everyday banality of death within the caste system, the appeal of social mobility and wealth were also important for these novels” (Menon 2006:93). Āśān’s poems would later reflect the imaginative trend, imagination of redemption from this caste world and the emergence of an unmarked modern self (death of the caste self), grounded in religion. Additionally, during the third quarter of the 19th century, the Veṇmaṇi School of poets (commonly known as the “father and son” school) refuted the prevalent notion that poetry was an art only for the elites as they composed their poems based on mythical themes as well as daily experiences. The Veṇmaṇi School of poets observed life around them and used Malayalam to convey their message of erotic liveliness and later included the Rāmacaritam (Paniker 1977).11 One of the popular works was Ambōpadeśam in which a grandmother instructs her granddaughter regarding courtship, following the Maṇipravāḷam classic Vaiśikatantram based on

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Sanskrit poetic meter. Pūraprabhandham represents the movement toward modernity in diction and versification that imitates the campus (Nair 1967:164–8). The Veṇmaṇi poets’ works reflected the erotic and the aesthetic in Malayalam poetry, which is later mirrored in Āśān’s poem, particularly Naḷini (1911). The prevailing notion in Kerala at this time was that poetry should be only for aesthetic pleasure and should exhibit creativity (Rajeevan 1999:27–8). Āśān understood the importance of learning English for communicative purposes with the ruling class as well as in comprehending the literature of the West. Learning the language of the elite class was a means of elevating his position within the society, which he would never have had as a member of the Īzhava community. With the wider access to English education, to printing, and the rise of the novel, as well as a heightened social and political consciousness, a new literary culture was beginning to emerge, and Āśān placed himself in the thick of these literary and social changes. Āśān started composing short couplets in Malayalam and translated Śaṅkarācārya’s masterpiece Saundaryalahirī from Sanskrit to Malayalam at the age of twenty-three. In his translation of Saundaryalahirī, Āśān uses śaṅkuṇiprāsam, a well-known akśarakalaśam, art of combining words, for the brevity of expression, which his later poems reflect. Āśān drew insight from the missionary translations, novels, and literary criticism in newspapers which shaped his compositions as well. Despite his education in Sanskrit, Āśān used Malayalam, because writing in Malayalam gave him and the Īzhavas a sense of “belongingness” or “ownership.” As Sumathi Ramaswamy observes in the case of Tamil, “the terms on which Tamil is rendered salvational vary, as does the logic,” and “the ideological work done on the language places the people who speak it at the very center of the project, as an imagined community,” ushering a new sentiment with modernity “in which languages are seen as the personal property of their speakers” (Ramaswamy 1997:10–1). Here the development of Malayalam as a language and its literary style can be seen as the formation of social identity (Freeman 2003a). Āśān’s poems, even this early in his life, took shape in a new hybrid form to express not only his social experience as a Īzhava but also his utopian vision of community. Āśān’s poetics presents a hybridity that blurs the boundaries between categories shaping a new space for expressing experience and imagining his utopian vision. Āśān’s works were instrumental in the formation of hybrid identity for the Īzhavas. His poems Oru Tīyyakuṭṭiyute Vicāram (1908) and Simhanādam (1919) display the movement’s struggle to redeem the Īzhavas caste from their socially degraded status. Freeman (2003a:439) observes that the shifting and hybrid formations of language and genre represent the changes in the local social relations. While changing some literary traditions, M. M. Basheer (1985) asserts that Āśān worked hard to maintain the aesthetics of his works, amending lines, changing emotions, and, subsequently, altering ideas, and when one ślokam (couplet) changes, the bhāvarūpam (form of expression) changes. He belabored to bring completeness to his poetic compositions. Āśān’s puśpasaṅkalppam, flowery imagination, represented deep love in a symbolic manner (Pillai 1986:216). His use of love as a subject and presenting it symbolically, Āśān sought to elevate individual love to

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universal love and to encourage readers to participate in the same experience as the poet. Not surprisingly, Āśān lost interest in his accounting job. He left against his father’s wishes. His mother eventually persuaded him to start looking for work, however, at the age of sixteen, Āśān was able to restart his Sanskrit education, under Manambur Govindanāśān. From 1889 until 1891, he studied Sanskrit poetry, including Nishādam, Bharatam Campu, and Śakuntalam, as well as alamkāraśāstram, poetics. During his time in the school of Govindanāśān, Āśān wrote the following poems: Vaḷḷivivāham (Ammapāṭṭu/lullaby), Subramanyaśatakam (stotram, devotional hymn), and Uṣākalyāṇam (Nātakam, drama) (Kumaran and Srinivasan 1985:35). Later, Paravur Keshavanāśān compiled and published Āśān’s poems, praises, and translations of this period in the newspaper, Sujānandini. At the age of seventeen, while in the school of Govindanāśān, in 1891, Āśān first encountered Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru. Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru had a profound influence in Āśān’s life. Guru was one of the cardinal contributors to the social and religious reforms of modern Kerala.12 Āśān eventually moved to live with Guru in Aruvippuram (Panicker 1984). Guru himself hailed from the Īzhava caste and his concept of “sanskritiziation” became a social mobility process, prompting Āśān to question his own religious practices and caste identity. On the social front, the lower caste, Īzhavas, were denied the right to worship in the higher temples of the Hindus, a practice based on the principles of unapproachability and untouchability, a despicable social evil in Kerala society discussed in Chapter 2. In addition to their worshiping Bhadrakāḷi, the mother goddess, with animal sacrifices, M. K. Sanoo observes that the Īzhavas also worshiped Śāsta, Vīrabhadra, and ancestors (Sanoo 1998). Īzhavas were confined to their low thatched-roof temples and allowed only small offerings, mainly the blood of cocks and toddy (Sivadasan 1974). Guru spoke ruthlessly against exclusionary practices which high-caste Hindus embraced, and his socioreligious reform was against the intolerance of high-caste Hindus. Guru built temples to annihilate the existing social system and practices, to transcend the boundaries between high caste and low-caste citizens of Kerala. He enabled Īzhavas to construct a parallel temple system to that of upper-caste Hindus, and asked Īzhavas to officiate worship, refuting the claim by Matadhipati, master of the monastery, that no Īzhavas can be priests to Śiva (Pati 2013). In general, he opened temple doors to other outcastes of Kerala – Parayās and Pulayās (Pati 2013). He insisted on ethically working based on The Bhagavad Gītā. Guru claimed that this world was probation for the next and that human was capable of infinite perfection and therefore, could become one with God by proper karma, jñāna, and dhyāna, meditation. Guru gave low-caste people a sense of direction and self-respect, but more importantly, he also projected Hinduism as a casteless, living religion (Sivadasan 1974). He revealed his revolutionary ideas by consecrating a temple in Aruvippuram in 1888. Guru understood that the way to raise the Īzhava community from their low status in the community was to redefine their religious worship. Guru’s installation of Lord Śiva in the temple rejected traditions of worshiping the way Īzhavas worshiped in the past. The refutation of tradition as a way of refuting caste and creed boundaries became more obvious

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when Guru conducted prayers in accordance with high caste traditions. Conducting prayers this way could be also perceived as a way of maintaining caste hierarchy because the idea of purity was an ideal to be achieved. He later clarified his actions to a newspaper reporter, saying that there was no need for a temple or an idol to think about God. Moreover, he said, temples should be clean and beautiful places where people go to refresh themselves and cure their afflictions through meditation (Sivadasan 1974). Guru’s ideas about temples highlighted a paradox in his own teachings. On one hand, he installed images in a temple and promoted temple worship. On the other hand, he argued that temples or images were unnecessary for thinking of God. Guru asserted that India needed deliverance from the struggle both between castes and between religions. He encouraged everybody to study all religions without prejudice and with equal reverence and then to weigh the fruits of their studies, which would reveal that it is egotism that fosters contention (Kunhuraman 1974:220). Perhaps, as mentioned in the previous chapter, Guru believed in one caste, one religion, and one God, a belief stemming from his own analysis of all known religions where he realized that there was no fundamental difference between their basic principles. His intention was to transcend all boundaries, questioning the rigid boundaries set by sectarian groups and the caste system. Regardless of how Guru made sense of these paradoxes himself, his religious reforms advanced social reforms, and those who followed his teachings worshipped him as a divine person, which I discuss elsewhere. Guru’s reforms influenced Āśān as Āśān was working for Guru’s organization, SNDP, in Aruvippuram. Guru’s reforms also invigorated Āśān and motivated him to pursue knowledge as well eradicate practices that dehumanized Īzhavas and other lower-caste people in Kerala. The idea of annihilating the caste system gave Āśān a purpose for his life, and it offered him a theme for his literary works. Under Guru’s auspices, Āśān studied Hindu philosophical disciplines, including vedāntaśāstra and yogaśāstra, and these let him delve the jñāna mārga, path of knowledge (Kamalamma 1989:26). That year Āśān wrote several devotional poems, Subramanyaśatakam, Śivastotramāla, Bhaktivilāpam, Śivasurabhi, Kaminigrhaṇam , Vibhūti , Paramapañcakam , Anugrahaparamadaśakam , Nijānandānubhūti, and Nijānandavilāsam, all of which reflected bhakti as devotion emphasized through classical Sanskrit and medieval bhakti traditions. The sectarian divide between the Vaiṣṇava and Śaiva literature did not matter much for Āśān (or for Hindus in Kerala), as his works include themes from Vaiṣṇava and Śaiva devotionalism. For example, he wrote Bālarāmāyaṇam, which affirms Vaiṣṇava themes, whereas in his other major work, Stotṛakṛitikal, he endorses Śaiva themes. With the genesis of romantic poetry and modern prose fiction, new literary criticism emerged that was influenced by Western literary criticism, writers, and poets embracing new ideas, and a nationalist fervor. Indian poets like Āśān approached the epics and masterpieces of the past with critical eyes. The outcome of such literary criticism was the Rhyme Controversy. The Rhyme Controversy was described as the social distinction that arose among the poets and within the minds of individual poets during this period (Rajeevan 1999:27). Malayalam poetry is a blend

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of well-known Purāṇic or historical story and must abound in elaborate descriptions, possess figures of speech (alamkāra), rhyme on the second syllable of each foot (dvitīyākṣaraprāsam), contain meters from Sanskrit meters, and evoke wonder and express the skills of the poet (George 1972). This list adheres to the Sanskrit mahākāvya style of poetic composition. While attending school, Āśān also translated Prabhodh Candrōdayam, a drama which he paraphrased and called Kalakankujitam (Kamalamma 1989:27). The open forum in newspapers resulted in the rapid rise of literary criticism, and the first topic under discussion in this rhyme controversy was dvitiyākṣaraprāsam, that is, whether the second character of every foot in a quatrain should be identical so that there would be an unbroken rhyme pattern for the verse (Paniker 1977:37). A. R. Rājarāja Varma’s translation of Kāḷidāsa’s Megha Sandeśam without the dvitiyākṣaraprāsam proved that poetry could be good without rhyme, and he challenged the poets who supported the dwitiyākṣaraprāsam.13 Āśān refuted the progressive thinker Rājarāja Varma about not using dwitiyākṣaraprāsam, which asserted that he could not see how using such a poetic convention would damage Malayalam poetry. He continued to use rhyme in his poems. One result of the Rhyme Controversy was mahākāvya, a fully developed style in Sanskrit that called for high imagination and that retold the stories of great men or of royal dynasties in seven sargas (cantos) set in different meters.14 Mahākāvya that incorporated the description of the surroundings in different meters and that used different figures of speech were challenging to poets, and whoever was able to successfully employ them was given the mahākavi position, or the status of a great poet. The modern approach that Āśān practiced can be described this way: the poet was free to choose any subject, the description must serve the aim of the poem, figures of speech must be natural and not artificial, there is no compulsion to follow dvitiyākṣaraprāsam, the poet chose the meter, and imagination (bhāvana) was more important than fancy (kalpana; George 1972). From 1895 to 1898, following Guru’s instructions, Āśān lived in Bangalore with Dr. Palpu. Āśān enrolled at the Sri Chamarajendra Sanskrit College to study Nyāya, logic, Vyākhyānam, interpretation, and Alamkāra, poetics. Palpu, an Īzhava from Trivandrum, was a prominent person in Mysore Services. He had been denied admission on caste basis into a local government school but had gained admission into an English school. This English school opened the door for his future education. When he was refused admission to the medical school in Kerala, he went to Madras for his medical degree, becoming the first medical doctor from the Īzhava caste. Despite his achievements, his own Travancore Maharaja humiliated him because of his caste, and he had to accept a job at Bangalore in Mysore Services (Surendran 1963:64–9). Even though he was a part of the Mysore Government Service, Palpu stood against and responded to the dehumanizing situations he saw around him, and he fought for civil rights. The struggle against unapproachability and untouchability were his main focus. Despite the fact that Dr. Palpu was religious or traditionally grounded, he had accepted a colonial liberalism that promoted the use of newspapers and other forms of communication to express one’s own opinion. He promoted the freedom

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of speech and expression, and along with that, he had a passion to help people directly. Like Guru, he asserted that, in order to attain freedom, it was necessary to destroy the caste system, and even more, to win over the country’s authorities to this way of thinking, the caste system needed to end. Even though he was trained only in the medical profession, his heart and soul desired to help people in ways that crossed caste boundaries. He acted on his belief that everyone was equal. In Āśān, he saw a potential to challenge the caste system. During his studies, Āśān realized that he was the only outcaste studying at that college and that many people had resented his presence (Surendran 1963:72). At the same time, however, Āśān began to learn English again under the guidance of Dr. Palpu in Bangalore. When Palpu attended meetings or other engagements in the evening, Āśān would discuss matters such as the temporality of life and the helplessness of human beings with Dr. Palpu’s grandmother (Surendran 1963). Āśān wrote on behalf of Dr. Palpu while he lived with him. Āśān also presented the Malayāḷi Memorial for Palpu to the authorities of Travancore for implementing constitutional and administrative reforms for securing civic and political rights of the low-caste members of the society, which I discussed in Chapter 2, an appeal to the Maharaja of Travancore to give Īzhavas a fair chance in the government. The memorial demanded egalitarian treatment for the natives of Travancore, without respect to caste, creed, and color. Āśān and Palpu gathered the signatures of ten thousand Īzhavas for the memorial. The government’s response to the Malayali Memorial did no good for the Īzhavas. Their abysmal response provoked Palpu to formulate two further Īzhava Memorials in 1895 and 1896, which expressed the grievances of the Īzhavas and appealing to remove the discrimination against them in society. Palpu served the people and inspired Āśān to do so as well. For example, when Dr. Palpu converted to Buddhism later in his life and promoted Ambedkar’s agenda of annihilating the caste system during the colonial period of India, Āśān’s later poems reflected this Buddhist philosophy as well: Śribuddhacaritam (1915), Candālabhikṣuki (1923), and Karuṇa (1924). In 1896, Āśān stopped his Sanskrit studies in Bangalore after a plague spread through Bangalore and then his father passed away. He moved to Madras where he continued his Sanskrit studies and lived in the residence of Dr. Palpu’s Bengali friend for six months (Paniker 1988:111). In 1897, Āśān moved to Calcutta (present day Kolkata). Āśān’s experiences in Calcutta had a far-reaching effect on his thought and imagination. Calcutta shaped his poems, which yearned for social and intellectual freedom for all, especially the low-caste people of Kerala. Calcutta was the epicenter of the Bengal renaissance movement when the movement was at its height. In Calcutta, Āśān was influenced not only by the movement but also by the figures who led the nationalistic movement toward modern India. Most significant for Āśān were Ramakrishna Paramahansa (1836–1886), Rabindranath Tagore (1861–1941), and Swami Vivekananda (1863–1902). Āśān was swept along by these powerful currents of spirituality, literature, and national pride.

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Paramahansa emphasized deep God-consciousness essential for addressing the oppressive caste system and for embracing “the Other.” Similarly, Āśān’s exposure to advaita made him question the “othering” prevalent in the Kerala society based on the caste system, as advaita emphasizes monism, singular reality, argued by the 8th-century philosopher from Kerala, Sri Sankaracharya. The Ramakrishna Mission, founded by Paramahansa (1836–1886), had a profound influence on Āśān during his time in Bengal. Ramakrishna followers practiced devotion toward the mother goddess, Kāḷi, while also promoting social reform ideas endorsed by Brahmo Samaj and Arya Samaj. Ramakrishna directed attention to Hinduism, visà-vis mistaking the external rituals for the real essential spirit. These reforms intended to reinvigorate traditional values against Western culture and ideology (Chandra 1989:87–9). Tagore, a recipient of the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1913, argued for the importance of monism exemplified in the Upaniṣads in his literary works in Bengali, instead of in the traditional Sanskrit forms. More importantly, he introduced Bengali literary works to the West, and Western literary works to India. Tagore employed hybridity because he could not reconcile contradictory aesthetic traditions (Kaviraj 2003). In Bengal, Āśān must have understood the literary changes in the works of Michael Madhusudhan Dutt (1824–1873) that embodied “unprecedented combination of elements from Sanskrit and English that marked the serious advent of modern literature: his narratives and characters primarily drawn from the Sanskrit high classical tradition . . . but his dramatic poem, Meghnābhadh, is a defiant declaration of independence from the traditional Sanskrit poetry” (Kaviraj 2003:534). At the same time, Swami Vivekananda instilled a consciousness that emphasized the cultural heritage of India and enabled the people to evaluate past glories but still promote the renaissance movement across India. Vivekananda, most known for his speech at the World Parliament of Religions in 1893, inspired the world with the theme of universality and religious harmony. He criticized the caste system, the subjugation of women, the lack of educational opportunities, and older Indian traditions that he saw as oppressive. This teaching influenced Āśān too, and as a result his earliest works after returning to Kerala from Calcutta was a translation of Vivekananda’s Rājayoga. Although Āśān acknowledged the message and objective of Swami Vivekananda, which emphasized the universe as the manifestation of the Supreme Being as in the Upaniṣad and the divinity of human beings instilling courage and confidence into the minds of the people of India, Āśān saw how caste and religion created boundaries. Gopalakrishnan emphasizes that Āśān’s mind and vision had gradually developed from the limitations of the all India Renaissance to a fuller view of life and man, ascending to the universal humanism of Guru. In other words, Āśān grew from a follower of Vivekananda to a follower of Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru. In doing so, Āśān became a co-architect of the Kerala Renaissance. (Gopalakrishnan 1974:240)

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Āśān, though inspired and energized by the ideas of the Bengal renaissance movement during his stay in Calcutta, was still attached to Guru, who had sent him to Calcutta for higher education, rather than this kind of activism, in the first place. In Calcutta, in line with Guru’s original intentions, Āśān studied nyāyaśāstra (science of logic) and advaita (nondualism) philosophy, studies which produced the movement from bhakti to jñāna in Āśān’s mind. Āśān’s translation of Śaṅkara’s Saundaryalahiri was a result of his association with Swami Vivekananda. Besides learning Indian philosophy, he was reading English romantic poetry, and the blending of both these can be understood in his later poems. As mentioned previously, during his time in Bangalore, Madras, and later in Calcutta, Āśān not only mastered Sanskrit but also deepened his appreciation of and ability to interpret English literature. He incorporated elements of British romanticism into his Malayalam works. Knowing English paved the way for him to understand the thoughts and ideas developing in the West. Āśān loved learning English. He was thrilled by his new vision of the world outside the Sanskrit-speaking realm, which had a far-reaching effect on his poetics. While Āśān’s exposure to English literature and Western ideology encouraged him to critique the caste system, his years outside of Kerala brought radical changes to his thinking and to his lifestyle, and eventually to his poetic works focused on the eradication of the caste system in Kerala, employing an amalgamation of both Indian and Western literary poetics. Āśān’s poems illustrate his embrace of English romanticism. Āśān’s poems – especially Viṇapūvu (1908), Naḷini (1911), and Līla (1923) – illustrate resistance of colonial influence, serving as a “third space,” a complex space of social experience and identity construction. Āśān was inspired by Guru, Dr. Palpu, and other leaders of the Indian renaissance movement. This molded his imagination and his poetics, producing poems that functioned as a “third space,” negotiating selfhood and the possibility for emancipation from the caste-ridden society of Kerala. He reinforced the message of beauty and love through his poems, claiming that both transcend boundaries of time and space. As David Washbrook asserts, [t]he impact of the Modern/Western on southern society has led neither to clear-cut processes of uncritical copying nor of blanket rejection. Rather, and more complexly, it has promoted processes of highly eclectic borrowing and adaption: Indian ‘Tradition’ is rarely abandoned but in curious ways, attempts are made to fuse it with selective aspects of the Modern/Western to produce particular outcomes. (Washbrook 2010:125–48) Elinor Ochs and Lisa Capps suggest that “narrative and self are inseparable” because it is “grounded in the phenomenological assumption that entities are given meaning through being experienced and the notion that narrative is an essential resource in the struggle to bring experiences to conscious awareness” (Ochs and Capps 1996:19–43). Such inseparability between narration and identity formation facilitates our understanding of Āśān’s poems, which do not preclude religion,

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affirming religion as a means to promote consciousness and imagining of a place “hereafter” and “here and now,” devoid of caste boundaries. Āśān’s poetic vision was a realistic, revolutionary Romanticism (Yati 1994:22), where individual self-expression and emotion are recalled in tranquility. Āśān’s Naḷini states: For him, enjoying the earth’s beauty Is not forbidden; Rather, enjoying beauty is inborn In him: it is his nature. (Naḷini 1911:11) Suddenly he pauses, stands a long moment, pondering, Sighs deeply, and continues In his contemplation. (Naḷini 1911:13) He blends emotional characters, created with profoundly human personalities, added with realism, and descriptive element (varṇanakauśalam) throughout Naḷini. For instance, he writes: Long ago – in the beautiful Himalayas, Young ascetic flows outward in joy As the sun’s rays spread out at dawn. (Naḷini 1911:1) His long beard and nails and ashes on his body Reveal that he has been meditating for a long time, His body, naked and shining, Has overcome heat and cold. (Naḷini 1911:2) Meditating, he climbs to the top of the mountain Where he admires the beauty of the valley; As a young bird flies from the sky to its nest in the forest. (Naḷini 1911:6) He enables the reader to imagine beauty in the reality. Furthermore, where Āśān explains sṛṅgāra, love, in Naḷini, he compares Divākaran’s body with an image in a temple and Naḷini’s corpse to the decayed garland. In doing so, he deftly presents

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his krāntadarśitvam, sense of perception, while addressing social issues of his time: “othering” based on the idea of purity and pollution. “Naḷini, Naḷini,” she called, with a sad heart. As a priest removes a decayed garland from the idol in the temple, so she took away the tender body, still clinging to the yogi’s bosom. (Naḷini 1911:168) The blending of romanticism with devotional elements validate his poetics of hybridity demanding a reform in Malayalam poetry. His later works also reflected his philosophic and romantic ideas. For example, in Prarodanam (1919), Āśān writes with Tennyson’s In Memoriam in mind, he explores the mysteries of life and death and the nature of the relationship between two friends. In Cintāviṣṭayāya Sīta (1919), for another example, he intertwines with philosophy from the Rāmāyaṇam, especially its ideals of submissiveness and love with his depictions of womanhood and sorrow. When the plague infested Calcutta in 1900, Āśān stopped his studies and returned to Kerala. When he arrived in Kāyikkara, he established a school where he taught young children Sanskrit. Influenced by the thoughts of Guru and also by his experience in Bengal, he composed and published several devotional poems: in 1901 Śāṅkaraśatakam and Subramanyaśatakam, in 1902, Saundaryalahiri, and in 1903, Śivastōtṛamālā. Although Āśān emphasized the instrumentality of devotional poems over time, he gradually incorporated, the different circumstances in his life that made him aware of the incompleteness of creation, which through his poems, he yearned to complete (Basheer 1985:12). K. Sadasivan (1972), who lived with Āśān, stated that, in order to avoid a pause in a line of a stanza, he would change and rewrite lines to obtain the completeness he sought in his poems. This completeness, achieved by using imagination and symbolism, assisted his readers in feeling the rasa (essence) of an experience. The imagination of “completeness” for individuals concerned Āśān because he understood the “incompleteness” caused by the “othering” that lower-caste people experienced. For him, there was no conflict between the religious quest and the pursuit of art because both lead to the liberation of the soul. For Āśān, perception (darśana) is an act of experience (anubhava; Sreenivasan 1981:74). In 1903, Āśān took over as the general secretary of Guru’s new organization, the SNDP at Aruvippuram. He worked among the Īzhavas and other oppressed sections of Kerala society. The impetus behind Āśān’s work and writing had always been to eradicate the caste system with the idea of oneness and love as the one who understood the connection of knowledge that comes from utmost devotion and social involvement. The renaissance movement of Bengal sparked Āśān’s passion for social reform in Kerala, and the place he found best for making his passion come alive was the SNDP Yogam. Āśān formulated the constitution of

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SNDP Yogam, and the Bengal renaissance movement was clarified in its preamble. He traveled all over Kerala to organize and direct the work of the organization. From 1904 to 1905, Āśān translated Aśvagosha’s 2nd-century mahākāvya, Śribuddhacaritam from Sanskrit to Malayalam; he also translated two poetic works from English to Malayalam, titled Maithreyi and Manaśakti. All these works reveal that Āśān prioritized bhakti and spiritual matters. Āśān’s poetic style underwent a change in 1908, evidenced by his poem Viṇapūvu, which he wrote in Palghat, a city in northern Kerala. Āśān expounds the illusory nature of temporal existence and the glory of love as one seeks to liberate oneself from the cycle of rebirth in Viṇapūvu, Naḷini, and Līla, but in Viṇapūvu, Āśān echoes the truth of rebirth and the immortality of the soul as well as the idea of transcending boundaries as he writes: As a star that gradually sets in the western sea, And jubilantly rises over the eastern mountain, Flower! You can on meru great Bloom on the kalpaka branch again. (Viṇapūvu 1908:37) These poems, resplendent with aesthetic beauty, brought a new style, structure, and content to Malayalam poetry. Until this time, poets retold Purāṇic stories in stereotyped patterns and versified sensual love, such as the Veṇmaṇi poets, which I touch on in the next chapter. Āśān replaced these poetic expressions with deep insight into human emotion and the “True Love” (Gopalakrishnan 1974:240). Āśān’s poems and translations were an amalgamation of all the sources and techniques available to him. His poems and other works have a stamp of the Indian renaissance, but he merged the philosophic and the sensual elements. In doing so, he neither rejected the past nor did he blindly imitate the West; rather, he recaptured the simple, mellifluous style of Cherusseri and the deep, intense style of Ezhuthacchan, presenting them in a new context (Pillai 1974:253). His narration of love reflected the primacy of individual imagination of the self, an emergence of a new spirit of freedom. In the subsequent years, he wrote many khanda kāvyam; in 1911, he published Naḷini and started writing Līla , all the while continuing to translate Śribuddhacaritam. The different styles of poetry writing in Sanskrit and Dravidian enhanced the beauty of his poetry. In this regard, Āśān used Dravidian linguistic forms indigenous to Kerala and the Sanskrit linguistic forms, especially in his works Naḷini, Līla, Cintāviṣṭayāya Sīta, and Bālarāmāyaṇam. His literary works ensured him a position in Śrī Mūlam Tirunāl’s prajāsabhā, people’s court. Āśān understood the importance of publication and reaching the masses through literary works. As a result, in 1913, he established the Sharada Book Depot. In 1914, an image of the goddess Śarada was installed there, and, Āśān sang his devotional poem Śāradāstavam during the installation (Sanoo 1998:83).15 In 1915, he published Śribuddhacaritam, and, in 1916, the Bālarāmāyaṇam, children’s epic Rāmāyaṇam.

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After leading an active life traveling and organizing the SNDP Yogam throughout Kerala, Āśān wanted to spend the rest of his life with his family at Thonnakkal, south of Trivandrum. At the age of forty-four, in August 1917, Āśān married Bhanumatiamma. In 1919, he became the Advaitāśram manager at Alwaye, and during this year, he published the poem Cintāviṣṭayāya Sīta. Āśān retired from the general secretary position of SNDP Yogam in 1920 and withdrew from his publisher position of Vivekōdayam, the monthly journal published to promote SNDP ideals. He turned to focus on writing. In 1921, he and his family moved to Thonnakkal, where he spent time in writing and meditation. In 1922, the Prince of Wales awarded Āśān with the paṭṭu and vaḷa (silk shawl and gold bracelet), the marks of a great poet, for his outstanding literary works (Prabhakaran 1988). Although Āśān was not directly involved with the SNDP organization, he was the convener of the annual SNDP conference in 1923. In 1923, he met Rabindranath Tagore at Alwaye and that meeting inspired him to compose poems about naturalism and mysticism present in Tagore’s works. In 1923, Āśān wrote Līla, Durāvasta, Candālabhikṣuki, Puśpavādi, Maṇimāla, and Vanamāla. In 1924, he wrote Karuṇa, his last poetical composition. On 16 January 1924 (1099 Makaram 3), at early dawn, Āśān died in a boat accident on the Pallanna River.

Notes 1 Āśān is a title used to refer to a teacher within a Kaḷari or school setting among Nāyars, Īzhavas, and some other caste groups. 2 For a discussion on hybridization in Malayalam language and literature refer Rich Freeman 2003a, 2003b, and David Shulman 2016. 3 The Malayalam calendar begins with Chingam in mid-September and ends with Karkkaṭakam. 4 Trivandrum is now Thiruvananthapuram, Cochin is Kochi, and Calicut is Kozhikode. 5 Āśān is a title used to refer to a teacher within a Kaḷari, martial arts complex, or school setting among Nāyars, Īzhavas, and some other caste groups. 6 During those days in Kerala, graduating tenth grade was known as sixth form pass, as per the British education system. 7 See further K. Ayyappa Paniker, A Short History of Malayalam Literature (Trivandrum: Department of Public Relations, 1977). 8 Hermann Gundert wrote A Malayalam–English Dictionary, A Grammar of Malayalam, Keraḷappazhama, and Pazhamcholmāla. Cf. Paniker, A Short History of Malayalam Literature, p. 35. He also edited an anthology of prose and verse for the use of students, known as Pāthamāla, and the first authoritative Malayalam grammar. 9 In 1860, Kerala gained its first secular paper when a Gujarati industrialist, Devji Bhimji, published the Keralāmitṛam in Cochin. Later, in 1881, P. Govinda Pillai (with the assistance of Maharaja Visakham Tirunal) published Vidya Vilāsani. In 1885, Chenkulattu Kunhirama Menon brought out the first paper with political criticism, the Kerala Patrika. In 1886, C. Krishna Pillai and C. V. Raman Pillai founded the Malayali of Trivandrum, and, in 1892, Kandathil Varghese Mappila published the Malayāḷa Manorama and Bhāśāpośini. 10 Some novels of this period are Kundalata (1887); Pullelikuñchu (1882) by Archdeacon Koshy, which is a translation of John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress; Indulekha (1889) and Śarada (1891) by O. Chandu Menon; and Mārthānda Varma (1891), Dharmarāja (1913), and Premāmritam (1915) by C. V. Raman Pillai.

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11 The major poets of the Veṇmaṇi School were Veṇmaṇi Achan Nambutiri (1817–1891), Veṇmaṇi Makan Nambutiri (1844–1893), Poonthanam Achan Nambutiri (1821–1865), Poonthanam Makan Nambutiri (1857–1946), and the members of the Kodungalloor Kovilakam (a temple at Kodungalloor). 12 Cf. George Pati (2013). Narayana Guru. In Knut A. Jacobsen, ed., Brill’s Encyclopedia of Hinduism: Symbolism, Diaspora, Modern Issues, Vol. 5. Leiden: E. J. Brill, pp. 559–65. 13 The Mayura Sandeśam demonstrates the use of dvitiyākṣaraprāsam, the word choice, and imaginative capacity with regard to sound values; however, it did not personify the much-desired emotional intensity and philosophy of life of a kāvyam. Cf. Paniker (1977:36–7) and George (1968:140–2). 14 Rāmacandravilāsam by Azhakathu Rama Kurup, Uma Keralam by Ulloor, Rukmangala Caritam by Pandalam Kerala Varma, Citra Yogam by Vallathol, and Keśavīyam by K. C. Kesava Pillai were all mahākāvyas. Cf. George (1968:143–5). 15 Śāradastavam (his composition in praise of Śārada), which extolled the greatness of knowledge, came to be sung daily in many Īzhava homes and at Varkala Śāradamaḍom (personal observation, 2004–2014).

References Basheer, M. M. (1985). Āśānte Paṇippura. Calicut: NavaKerala Co-operative Publishing House. Bhabha, Homi K. (1994). The Location of Culture. London and New York: Routledge. Bhaskaranunni, P. (2005). Keralam Irupatham Nūṭṭantinde Arambhattil. Thrissur: Kerala Sahitya Akademi. Chandra, Bipan. (1989). India’s Struggle for Independence, 1857–1947. New Delhi: Penguin Books. Freeman, Rich. (2003a). Genre and Society: Literary Culture of Premodern Kerala. In Sheldon Pollock, ed., Literary Cultures in History: Reconstructions from South Asia. Berkeley: University of California Press. Freeman, Rich. (2003b). The Literature of Hinduism in Malayalam. In Gavin Flood, ed., The Blackwell Companion to Hinduism. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing. George, Karimpumannil Mathai. (1968). A Survey of Malayalam Literature. London: Asia Publishing House. George, Karimpumannil Mathai. (1972). Western Influence on Malayalam Language and Literature. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi. Gopalakrishnan, P. K. (1974). Asan’s Integral Concept of Renaissance. In M. Govindan, ed., Poetry and Renaissance. Madras: Sameeksha. Kamalamma, G. (1989). Āśānsāhitya Praveśika. Trivandrum: G. Kamalamma. Kaviraj, Sudipta. (2003). Two Literary Culture Histories in Bengal. In Sheldon Pollock, ed., Literary Cultures in History: Reconstructions from South Asia. Berkeley: University of California Press. Kawashima, Koji. (1998). Missionaries and a Hindu State Travancore 1858–1936. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Kripalani, Krishna. (1975). Modern Literature. In A. L. Basham, ed., A Cultural History of India. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Kumāran Āśān. (2001). Āśāntepadyakritikal. Kottayam: DC Books. Kumaran, M. K. and Srinivasan, K. (1985). Kumāran Āśān. Thonnakkal: Kumāran Āśān Smāraka committee.

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Kunhuraman, C. V. (1974). One Caste, One Religion, One God. In M. Govindan, ed., Poetry and Renaissance. Madras: Sameeksha. Menon, Dilip. (2006). The Blindness of Insight: Essays on Caste in Modern India. Pondicherry: Navayana Publications. Nair, P. K. Parameswaran. (1967). History of Malayalam Literature. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi. Ochs, Elinor and Capps, Lisa. (1996). Narrating the Self. Annual Review of Anthropology, Vol. 25, pp. 19–43. Panicker, M. P. (1984). Romanticisavum Āśānte Kavi Vyaktitvavum. Kottayam: DC Books. Paniker, K. Ayyappa. (1977). A Short History of Malayalam Literature. Trivandrum: Department of Public Relations. Paniker, K. Ayyappa, ed. (1988). Kumaran Asan: The Man and the Poet. Trivandrum: Kumaran Asan Memorial Committee. Pati, George. (2013). Narayana Guru. In Knut A. Jacobsen, ed., Brill’s Encyclopedia of Hinduism: Symbolism, Diaspora, Modern Issues, Vol. 5. Leiden: E. J. Brill, pp. 559–65. Pillai, G. Kumara. (1974). Asan and the Poetical Tradition in Malayalam. In M. Govindan, ed., Poetry and Renaissance: Kumaran Asan Birth Centenary Volume. Madras: Sameeksha, Bapuji Press. Pillai, G. Kumara. (1986). Āśānte Kāvyakalpana. In Ramakrishnan, Deshamangalam, ed., Kāvyabhāśayile Praśnangal. Thiruvananthapuram: State Institute of Languages. Prabhakaran, K. (1988). Āśānte Dayarikaḷilūde. Thonnakkal: Sharada Book Depot. Prentiss, Karen Pechilis. (1999). The Embodiment of Bhakti. New York: Oxford University Press. Rajeevan, B. (1999). Cultural Formation of Kerala. In P. J. Cherian, ed., Essays on the Cultural Formation of Kerala. Vol. 4.2. Thiruvananthapuram: Kerala State Gazetteers Department. Ramaswamy, Sumathi. (1997). Passions of the Tongue: Language Devotion in Tamil India, 1891–1970. Berkeley: University of California Press. Sadasivan, K. (1972). Kumāranāśān: cila smaraṇakaḷ. Thonnakkal, Thiruvanathapuram: Sarada Book Depot. Sanoo, M. K. (1998). Narayana Guru. Bombay: Bharathiya Vidya Bhavan. Shulman, David. (2016). Tamil: A Biography. Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Sivadasan, C. P. (1974). Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru. In M. Govindan, ed., Poetry and Renaissance. Madras: Sameeksha. Sreenivasan, K. (1981). Profile of a Poets Vision. Trivandrum: Darsan Books Private Ltd. Surendran, K. (1963). Kumāran Āśān – Jeevithavum, Kalayum, Darsanavum. Mavelikara, Kottayam: National Book Stall. Thapar, Romila. (1991). Genealogical Patterns and Perceptions of the Past. Studies in History, Vol. 7, p. 36. Washbrook, David. (2010). Intimations of Modernity in South India. South Asian History and Culture, Vol. 1, No. 1, pp. 125–48. Yati, Nitya Chaitanya. (1994). Āśān Enna Śilpi. Trivandrum: University of Kerala.

4

Poetics of devotion Bhakti as devotion

P. K. Parameswaran Nair (1967), K. M. George (1968), and Krishna Chaitanya (1971) argue that Sanskrit and Tamil, as well as modern Western literature, shaped Malayalam literature, be it poetry, prose, novel, drama, or short story. Rich Freeman (2003a:447) has accurately pointed that Malayalam is positioned in a triangular relation with Tamil and Sanskrit. Freeman explains that this relationship is explicit in the narrative trope that dominates Malayalam literary histories. Malayalam language and literature emerged and evolved over many centuries and reveals “perspectives on the intersection of regional identity, local social relations, and the religious institution of Hinduism in south India” (Freeman 2003b:159). David Shulman (2016) discusses the hybridization in Malayalam language as he claims Tamil was present in Kerala alongside Sanskrit and early forms of Malayalam and the earliest grammar book in Malayalam, Līlātilakam, addresses the complex linguistic context in Kerala (Shulman 2016). Shulman suggests the presence of Tamil in Kerala affirms Tamil language to be translocal, transregional, and even cosmopolitan (Shulman 2016:229). This has contributed to the production of Malayalam language. The genre most native in Malayalam is Pāṭṭu Sāhityam, song tradition.1 Before the colonial period, Malayalam literature was mostly Pāṭṭu, or poetry, using Tamil, Sanskrit, and Maṇipravāḷam languages. Sheldon Pollock observes that in Kerala specifically, beginning in the 14th century, Maṇipravāḷam functioned as the principle language under which a variety of styles existed (Pollock 2006:409). With the influence of Western literature, other prose and novels were composed in Malayalam.2 The influence of Western/modern literature and literary ideas produced short stories, novels, and other fiction. Such outcomes were the result of a complex process of hybridism prevalent in the south Indian context during the colonial period. These new genres, as well as the earlier genre of poetry, provided ways to express their social experience and imagine their utopian vision including ones written by Kūmaran Āśān, but this chapter is concerned with his earlier devotional expressions toward a deity. Devotion to a deity, īśvarabhakti, was of utmost significance to Āśān as he was exposed to such devotional attitude starting in his childhood, as discussed in the previous chapter. This devotion forms the central theme in his earlier works,

Poetics of devotion 53 Stōtṛakṛitikal (1901–1903), hymns of praise, a collection of devotional hymns devoted to the deity, and later to his Guru, Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru, thus considering his Guru as deity. This chapter explores Stōtṛakṛitikal, against the backdrop of Malayalam bhakti tradition and demonstrates bhakti as devotion which is significant as bhakti as a movement appears in his lyric poems and later works, which I discuss in the next chapter. Illustrating how his poems were ones of devotion helps readers to connect his poems to classical Sanskrit and South Indian devotional bhakti traditions. This connection serves as a point of departure for examining his poetics of reform in the subsequent chapter where bhakti becomes a movement toward equality and his utopian vision of community. In the following sections, I give a brief overview of bhakti in the Malayalam literary tradition, and then using a few poems from Stōtṛakṛitikal, I illustrate bhakti as devotion.

Bhakti in Malayalam literature Mapping Malayalam bhakti tradition is daunting as the Malayalam bhakti tradition is a complex network of Tamil, Sanskrit, and Malayalam literary traditions. As Kamil Zvelebil (1973) states, the entire Pāṭṭu genre in Malayalam literature stands as proof of its intrinsic connection with Sanskrit as well as with Tamil. The concept of bhakti arrived in the Malayalam-speaking region when it was presented through Sankaracharya’s philosophical teachings, advaita (nondualism), and Ramanuja’s viśiṣtadvaita (qualified monism). The Nālāyira Divyaprabhandam of the Tamil Śrī Vaiṣṇavas and Tēvāram of the Tamil Śaivas developed the idea of bhakti as devotion. Devotees were immersed in bhakti because they longed for God’s grace (arul) the praxis in surrendering at God’s feet (prāpatti) for attaining grace. The earliest literary genre in Malayalam was the Pāṭṭu. Rāmacaritam, from around the 14th century is a good example. Rāmacaritam is similar to the yuddhakandas of Valmiki’s Rāmāyaṇa and is attributed to a poet who worked within the Tamil tradition (Aravindakshan 1999). Herman Gundert, the lexicographer of a Malayalam dictionary, stated in the preface of his Malayalam-English Dictionary that Rāmacaritam was probably the oldest Malayalam poem in existence and that it exhibited the earliest phase of the language before the introduction of Sanskrit. The depiction of Hanumān and Vibhīṣana as symbols of devotion confirms the influence of classical Sanskrit bhakti tradition in Malayalam (Aravindakshan 1999). These pāṭṭu sāhityam that demonstrate Tamil and Sanskrit influences include Rāmacaritam, Bhagavad Gītā, Bhāgavatam, Śivarātrimāhātmyam, Bhāratmāla, Kaṇṇāśa Bhāratam, Kaṇṇāśan Pāṭṭukal, Tholan’s Vaiśikatantram, ancient campus, and sandeśa kāvyas (George 1968). Another prominent genre in Malayalam literature was the Maṇipravāḷam kāvyam, an example of which is the Vaiśikatantram (written in the 11th century). A subgenre of Maṇipravāḷam kāvyam, sandeśa kāvyam, was modeled on the famous Sanskrit version of Kāḷidāsa’s Meghadūtta, and consists of messages from the hero to the beloved, passed through a messenger cloud. Important among the

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sandeśas are the Uṇṇunīlisandeśam, Kākasandeśam, Kokasandeśam, and Candrotsavam, which are erotic in content and describe the history of the period (George 1968). In Malayalam literary sphere, some considered Pāṭṭu genre as pure, while others considered Maṇipravāḷam as impure as it was a mixed language, miśrabhāśa. Āśān’s intention was to transcend divisions in genres as he blended elements and themes privileged by both Pāṭṭu and Maṇipravāḷam, as well as Sanskrit verse and rhythmic prose. Āśān used motifs and themes present in the early period of Malayalam literature. He employed the folk song motifs of Kerala that embodied ceremonies, traditions, religions, and stages of an individual’s life. He weaved the stages of a person’s life into all his poems to emphasize Kerala’s folk song tradition, which represented the popular culture. For example, his ceremonial songs were set in simple meter without any of the imagery usually present in high musicals and close rhymes (George 1968:17–19).3 The folk songs drew on a myriad of motifs, metrical patterns, tunes, and rhythms. They were simple and musical in quality. They are fast moving in narration and have a regular pause in the middle of each line so that the listeners can visualize the images (Chaitanya 1971). Malayalam bhakti literature developed over many years, and the Sanskrit, Tamil and the Maṇipravāḷam works form the substratum. The bhakti literary tradition of Kerala can be traced to the Caṅkam religion and literature, which dealt with themes of war and love (Ramanujan 1985; Kuroor 1996). The complexes of lush eroticism and graphic violence that motivated Caṅkam literature carried forward into the sanskritization of Tamil literature. The Tamil bhakti movement and literature that got its start in the 6th century represented the mapping of mythological themes from the Sanskrit purāṇas onto indigenous literary forms (Freeman 2003b:161–2). Freeman states: As a socio-religious movement, this was coincident with the revival of Tamil kingdoms in new state forms, institutionally centered on the emergence of structural temples, as cultural centers built on and linking together the village structure of these kingdoms, agrarian economies. The originally local deities of these temples were Sanksritized into either the Vaiṣṇava or Śaiva Purāṇic pantheons, and celebrated in new liturgical song-literatures by poet-saints who revealed the god’s presence through divine visions and inspiration, and who became the subject of their own hagiographies as the saints of Tamil Vaiṣṇavism, the Ālvārs, and those of Śaivism, the Nāyanmārs. (Freeman 2003b:162)4 The early devotionals were inside songs of ritual and songs of war where fictive characters were modeled on historical ones (Cutler 1987:72). Norman Cutler asserts that a bhakti poem is not limited by its context. He explains that ordinary spatial and temporal laws do not limit the context that gave birth to reincarnated poems with the aesthetic and emotional elements of classical poems (Cutler

Poetics of devotion 55 1987:73). In the same way, the reincarnation of poems takes place in Malayalam bhakti literature. Malayalam bhakti poems embody the essence of Tamil bhakti. Bhakti elements in Kerala literature date back as early as the 13th or 14th century in Anantapura Varnanam. Anantapura Varnanam was a Maṇipravāḷam work in which punḍarikākṣa pūjā, or worship of Viṣṇu, takes place as Viṣṇu is enshrined in Anantapuram (Ayyar 1936:33; Freeman 2003b:167). Tirunizhalmāla, a 13thcentury poetic work, embodies bhakti to Kṛṣṇa, as well as embodying the rituals that are associated with exorcism and worship.5 Even more, the devotion found in Rāmacaritam, from around the 14th century, is one of the oldest examples of literary bhakti, which Freeman qualifies as a “classically Dravidian martial devotion” (Freeman 2003b:166). Around the 14th and 15th centuries, with the arrival of Kaṇṇāśśan from the south of Kerala and Cherusseri from the north, Malayalam literature embodied bhakti . During the 14th and 15th centuries, the Niranam poets, Madhava Panikkar, Sankara Panikkar, and Rama Panikkar, composed bhakti poetry that condensed the Sanskrit epics into Dravidian meter called tarangini . Chaitanya (1971) defined tarangini as “that which flows forward in progression.” They “evolved a diction most completely emancipated from the Tamil and enriched by the assimilation of Sanskrit vocabulary. They created a song-mold that, while remaining flawlessly cantabile throughout, and could handle high discussion of metaphysical and spiritual doctrines with astonishing ease” (Chaitanya 1971:76–7). Later in the 15th century, Cherusseri composed Kṛṣṇagātha in Malayalam, and it was considered the best bhakti kāvya. Gātha, a subgenre, employed mañjari meter and local language (Malayalam and Sanskrit) as shown in Kṛṣṇagātha by Cherusseri. This poetical work marked the development of the bhakti tradition in Malayalam literature. It was composed in the song form and presents Vaiṣṇava bhakti in four stages: yajamāna brytyabhāvam (adoration for master), kāmukikāmukhabhāvam (love between lover and beloved), sakhibhāvam (friendly love), and vātsalyabhāvam (tender affection for a child), where God is conceived of as a child. These bhāvas (expressions) give an aesthetic emphasis to the poem (Chaitanya 1971; George 1968). Cherusseri’s Kṛṣṇagātha radiates kāmukikāmukhabhāvam bhakti bhāva , and the poem depicts that Kṛṣṇa belongs to him alone, and he wanted to visualize him and unite with the supreme soul. This text was similar to the works of bhakti poets such as Jayadeva, Mīrābāī, and Tulasidās from other parts of India. Although strands of bhakti were found in earlier Malayalam works, the bhakti tradition in Hinduism flourished in Kerala starting in the 16th century. Kannassa Rāmāyaṇam, Kṛṣṇagātha, Bhāratam, and Śivarātrimāhātmyam marked the inception of bhakti because they were based on the epics and Purāṇas.6 Freeman attributes this shift toward Sanskritic, Purāṇic religiosity to the bhakti movements in the southern region (Freeman 2003a:479).7 Freeman echoes Purushottaman’s claim that “bhakti literature is an endogenous collective revulsion to Brahmanical excesses and a general revolt against the moral and political decadence of later medieval society” (Freeman 2003a). In this way, in Malayalam

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bhakti prasthānam can mean devotion to a deity and a movement, as well. The bhakti tradition was instrumental to the formulation of Malayalam language and literature. Around 16th century, Tuncathu Ezhuthacchan invigorated Malayalam language and refined its style. His works, mostly devotional in content, have contributed to Malayalam literary tradition. Most significantly, Ezhuthacchan’s poems were a response to the challenges of society, and he carried out his theme with much dexterity so that everyone could understand the content of his works. His linguistic style was antiformal, antihierarchical, and revolutionary. Some of his works include, Adhyātma Rāmāyaṇam, Mahābhāratam, Bhāśa Bhāgavatam, Uttara Rāmāyaṇam, Harināma Kīrtanam, Cintāratanam, Keralavarma Rāmāyaṇam, Girijākalyāṇam, Pañcatantrakam, Patappāṭṭu, and Māmānkampāṭṭu. Ezhuthacchan presented the spiritual message of dāsya (servant) bhakti poetry with the fluid use of Sanskrit, a language considered to be a ritualistic, high-caste language (Ganesh 1997). Malayalam scholars acknowledge that Ezhuthacchan, a traditional teacher (Āśān pallikudam) from the Śūdra caste, was the founder of the bhakti “movement” in Malayalam literature. Although his pioneering work translating Adhyātma Rāmāyaṇam into modern Malayalam established and employed, the kiḷipāṭṭu genre set as couplets, he did not use Sanskrit verbal forms or long compounds (Freeman 2003a:480). Through kiḷipāṭṭu-style poems, he embodied bhakti. Through his poetic genius, Ezhuthacchan was able to unite physical and metaphysical elements and was able to express that the cleansing of the human soul was more important than amusement and awakening in poetry (Nair 1967).8 In other words, Ezhuthacchan’s bhakti poems are not only social expressions; they are also a motivating force that fostered a social, cultural, and literary renaissance in Kerala, just as Āśān’s poems many years later, which I discuss in the next chapter. Additionally, Ezhuthacchan was able to stabilize Malayalam linguistic style. During this time, another bhakti poet of Kerala, Melpathūr Nārāyaṇa Bhattathiri (1560–1648), wrote a famous Sanskrit devotional poem titled Nārāyaṇīyam. This literary return to spiritual matters was not confined to Kerala. Throughout India during the 16th and 17th centuries, the Vaiṣṇava poets enriched most of the literature of India with their mystic outpourings. Even before Kampan wrote in Tamil, in northern India, Kabīr, Sūrdās, and Tulasidās wrote in Hindi; in the south-central region, Tukarām and Sreedhara wrote in Marathi; in the southeastern region, Jagannātha wrote in Oriya; and in the southern region, Kanakadāsa and Venkitadāsa wrote in Kannada (Nair 1967). After Ezhuthacchan, Pūntānam Nambūtiri (1547–1640) brought awareness of Kṛṣṇa bhakti to his readers, focusing on Kṛṣṇa’s infinite love for his devotees. Pūntānam’s Jñānappāna exemplifies that bhakti was not different from knowledge because awakening through bhakti is knowledge. Similar bhakti tropes

Poetics of devotion 57 were found in Ramapurattu Warrier’s (1703–1753), Kuchela Vrittam Vanchipāṭṭu, which retold the story of Kuchela, the devotee and classmate of Kṛṣṇa, going to Dvāraka to pay him homage. Around the same time, Kuñjan Nambyār (1705–1770) popularized a new style of verse narration known as tuḷḷal, which used pure Malayalam over Sanskrit to recite the Purāṇic tales in rhythmic verse and was used in performative practices (Paniker 1982). Tamil and Sanskrit literary traditions formed the base for the bhakti literary tradition in Malayalam. Āśān produced bhakti poems which mirrored Ezhuthacchan’s bhakti poems, combining the physical and metaphysical. At the same time, Āśān incorporated Cherusseri’s forms of bhakti. Guru, who illumined the lives of people on the basis of advaita vedānta, inspired Āśān to take Malayalam poetry in the early 20th century to another height using the language of Romanticism. The Kaṇṇāśans and Ezhuthacchan adopted exotic themes and mixed them with the indigenous culture. Āśān’s poems embodied the sublime and produced divine and human ratibhāvam (romantic or sexual love emotion; Leelavati 1999). Āśān’s bhakti as a means to knowledge of the universe resonates with Subramanya Bharathi’s message, as Christine Frost argues. Frost writes that Bharathi’s message was regarding the immanence of God and his idea of bhakti related closely to nationalism (Frost 2006). According to Roy, though Bharathi allied with the Bhagavad Gītā and the doctrine of karma, he rejected the latterday Purāṇic Hinduism with its innumerable rituals, caste taboos, and social regulations and believed in the dynamic Hinduism of the early Vedic and Upaniṣadic seers fully realizing “the poetic and cultural value of the great and massive Purāṇic literature of Hinduism” (Roy 1974:114–16). The poets in these instances who promoted bhakti through literature wanted to raise consciousness among the lower castes in order that they could also worship and reach a state of knowledge ( jñāna) through their devotion to the deity. Bhakti in this sense was embodied in the words, actions, and images of the agents who gave it representation based on their own historical contexts and rhetoric (Prentiss 1999:10–11). Āśān’s poems contain the bhakti theology of embodiment that encouraged worship of a deity and valued human experience. Bhakti poetry was not confined to the Hindu religious realm. There were devotional writings among Christians and Muslims, as well. For example, among Muslims, most literature was written on religious themes. Among Christian literature, Śri Yeśu Vijayam (1923) of Kattakkayam Cheriyan Mappila (1859–1936) and Veda-Vihāram (?) of K. V. Simon (1883–1943), all of which augment the existing bhakti literature in Malayalam, but discussing these works is beyond the scope of this study. Bhakti to God as a way to knowledge, liberation, and individual identity formed a foundation for poetry in the Malayalam literary sphere. The shifts in motifs, content, and form had started before the modern period, that is, before the colonial period in Kerala. As Sheldon Pollock argues, the growth of vernacular literature

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progressively linked languages to senses of place and community (Pollock 1998:127). However, in the modern period of Kerala, Western influence offered poets freedom to express themselves and to critique the socioreligious context of Kerala. The complex and rich tradition of Malayalam literature also formed the foundation of Āśān’s poetic genius that reflected traditional poetical genres and their motifs to emphasize the power and efficacy of the traditional art of poetry. The bhakti motifs present in earlier Malayalam poetry had long-lasting repercussions for the poets of the 19th and 20th centuries, including Āśān. Āśān began his poetic career with the composition of the Stotṛakṛitikal (1901–1903), devotional hymns singing of god and for god. Āśān’s collection considers mokṣa, or liberation, through the way of bhakti expressed in the classical Sanskrit texts, The Bhagavad Gītā and the Bhāgavata Purāṇa. As a Śiva bhakta, devotee of Śiva, Āśān’s early poetic works were grounded in devotion to him, and the poems remember Śiva as the all-compassionate one, the source of life and bliss. He employs the Malayalam term, anpu, which means snēham (love) or bhakti (devotion). The emphasis is given to the poet being at the feet of Śiva. Though Śiva was his personal deity, he includes devotional songs for and of other deities. For Āśān, self-realization had to come from within each person through devotion to one’s deity; one had to discover one’s power within oneself. Here, I include translations of the Stotṛakṛitikal that epitomize the deep devotional love toward the deity, which reinforce selfsurrender and self-abnegation, the essential goals in classical Sanskrit and South Indian bhakti. I introduce each poem and offer general comments when necessary. I have included the transliteration of the poems and verses in the Appendices. Śivasurabhi: Śiva’s lotus feet Śivasurabhi, as the name suggests, narrates the poet’s devotion to Śiva, but begins by invoking Sarasvatī, the goddess of arts, literature, and learning. This poem consists of fifty verses. I include twenty verses in this chapter. The theological significance of this poem lies in the poet’s reference to the lotus feet of Śiva, which dispel the darkness of ignorance. The verses in this poem assert that Śiva’s feet are the source of liberation to those who surrender at them. Seeking refuge in Śiva’s lotus feet are the only way and the goal of the devotee. Śiva’s lotus feet have soteriological significance, reinforcing the idea of total surrender, prāpatti, a traditional goal among South Indian bhakti poets as well the classical Sanskrit bhakti tradition. Indira Peterson (1991) has highlighted the significance of the Lord’s feet in the case of Śaiva poems in Tamil. For example, in Appar IV.97.1. Cattimuṟṟam, Before death the king Destroys me with swift strength, brand me with the print of your flower-feet! If you fail,

Poetics of devotion 59 O Śiva-sprout who dwells in holy Cattimuṟṟam, you who bear the crackling fire in your hand, deadly karma will surely engulf me! (Peterson 1991:222) Similarly, Vasudha Narayanan (1994) has demonstrated in the case of the Śrīvaiṣṇava, in Nammāḻvār’s Tiruvāymoḻi, 6.10.6: “When will we ever see the twin lotus feet that once paced the worlds?” as every day they praise you, standing, waiting, serving you with body, speech, and mind. O Lord of Vēṅkaṭam: When will the day come when I, your servant, will reach truth And touch your feet? (Narayanan 1994:170) Taking refuge, śaraṇāgatī, by totally surrendering at God’s feet remains foundational to bhakti as it consists of five individual components: “the intention of submitting to the Lord, the giving up of resistance to the Lord, the belief in the protection of the Lord, the prayer that the Lord may save his devotees, and the consciousness of utter helplessness” (Klostermaier 1989:229). Vasudha Narayanan argues that Āḻvārs in their constant recollection of Viṣṇu’s redemptive acts, their devotion becomes apparent and their salvation proclaimed (Narayanan 1987). For Āśān, such recollection involved surrendering, self-abnegation, and taking refuge at God’s lotus feet, in a space for union and a place of śaraṇāgatī, refuge, and mokṣa, liberation. This aspect of achieving liberation through devotion at the Lord’s feet is expressed in the classical devotional text, the Bhāgavata Purāṇa. The Bhāgavata Purāṇa 7.6.3–4 and 9.4.18–20 emphasizes love or submission at the Lord’s feet leads to gaining self-knowledge, which is liberative. At the feet of the Lord, in silence, one attained union with God and knowledge thereby removing ignorance of the self. According to the Bhāgavata Purāṇa 11.2.45–55, the act of submission and self-abnegation leads to the realization of the Lord as the devotee detaches from everything and sees everything identical with himself and with the Lord. This īśvarabhakti , expressed through surrendering at the Lord’s feet, is not just regarding pādasēva, service at the feet, but also emphasizes deep loving relationship. For Āśān, bhakti opened the way to illumination and knowledge of the self and the other. This concept of love at the feet of God transformed and transported the devotee from the travails of this world to a place “elsewhere” – for the Vaiṣṇavas,

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Vaikuṇṭha, abode of Viṣṇu, or Vēṅkaṭam Hill sacred pilgrimage hill sung by the Āḻvārs, or Kētāram, the holy place of Śiva depicted in Cuntarars poems, or in Tiruvūrkkōvai in Campantar’s poems giving topographical references to shrines of Śiva, or as presented in the portrayal of temples in Appar’s poems. All these references demonstrate the significance of spaces that function as in-between spaces between the divine and human, as with tīrtha , crossing over. The feet of God are a place where crossing over takes place, as in pilgrimage. Prentiss explains two competing worldviews present in Tamil Śiva bhakti poems: renunciation and affirmation of life in the world (Prentiss 1999). The presence of both of these worldviews transcends the boundary between the ascetic and the erotic, the profane and the sacred, and as emphasized in the case of person in pilgrimage, this world and the next, especially in Śabarimala pilgrimage of Kerala, where the pilgrim householder temporarily takes the path of renunciation (Pati 2009, 2014; Osella and Osella 2003). Both of these become integral to Āśān’s concept of love as he uses the term snēham. As Madeleine Biardeau claims, the key term kāma, or sexual passion, has been used in the Bṛhadāranyaka Upaniṣad to indicate love of ātman, the highest goal of spiritual knowledge and the love for which all else is abandoned (Biardeau 1989). Āśān says that he finds peace and bliss at the glorious one’s feet. On one hand, Āśān speaks at an intellectual level; on the other hand, he speaks at an emotional level. According to Friedhelm Hardy (1983), when the mystic’s ecstasy of love is so ardent that the devotee cannot live separated from God, the intellectual and emotional bhaktis are the same in their expression.9 Hardy emphasizes the amorous relationship between the gopīs and Kṛṣṇa around Mathura which presents the two most important themes of emotional bhakti, viz. ‘union and separation’ (Hardy 1983:52). For Āśān, both the intellectual and emotional aspects of bhakti are means of knowledge, both becoming essential for breaking the barriers of caste oppression in Kerala society. In other words, bhakti brings knowledge and awareness that lead to action. Śivasurabhi10 1. O feet like lotus powder, even the slightest thought of leaving is damaging. Mercy flows soothing to the ear. I bow with love, O Sarasvatī. 2. Vedas are unable to explain that which is expanded beyond a physical state. The divine light that dispels darkness and shines eternally. Śiva’s feet are like that.

Poetics of devotion 61 3. To those wandering ascetics, you are their soul refuge and essence of the universe when they renounce the world. Inside, outside, you are everything. Is it not the place of conscious bliss? 4. I am the one who in the form of love makes joy. I am the one that flows like a river of honey. Your eternal glory cannot be told separately, by standing apart. 5. Mind awakens from its silence and melts. Body quivers with fear and trembling. Exceed the source of my being. Isn’t it said to be destined to perish from birth? 6. Without attributes, without sign, and formless, it doesn’t have anything, not even a name sweet as ambrosia. Isn’t it said that through meditation comes realization, the font of knowledge? 7. Interested entirely in the lowly, As supreme swan in auspicious experience, As the beautiful and cold camphor, as the moon melts the heart, Isn’t it said that your silent state is the sweetest? 8. Wandering among subjects without stupor in knowledge, mercifully, in the beautiful ocean of camphor, my heart, exhausted in grief, unites with purity, leaving its previous state. 9. I am sitting in joy, totally unaware of my status. Again, why is it a mistake? My thought flies like a ball or a top; Aren’t you a little unhappy?

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Poetics of devotion 10. Everywhere sorrow abounds; the Lord of universe, who has no form and name, how will he remove my suffering and become close? Do not be concerned about this, O my heart. 11. It has peace for all and salvation from misery. It is commonly called the way of refuge for all. Finally, as a remedy: Śiva, the only name for my contemplative mind. 12. Without decaying like a sprig nurtured with water, or like a withered offshoot, Ganges rises from the long hair knot of the sovereign Lord. The comforting moon is also present, my heart! 13. Sight of your loving lotus feet removes the misery that arises out of desires, burning Cupid, smeared in smoke. The ashes on the forehead are dear to my heart! 14. As Cupid on this earth, the wayward enchantress (before dawn, as everything arises) arrives, ignorantly showing off, but eyes see them all, my heart! 15. You are my sole friend, reason for everything, who compassionately protects eternally. Beloved! For people to have realization through knowledge, the flowers of divine words drip nectar of the Vedas. 16. Giving life and power to scriptures, the playful one of Mount Kailash, Reason for showing, and to be seen Treasured, sweet, and respected Comforting for a while in the corner, my heart!

Poetics of devotion 63 17. This outside sound, witness to senses, became a way to express my thoughts of the one heroic and lord of the universe, brilliantly listening on earth, my heart! 18. No one as powerful as you to rescue and reconcile; The most compassionate one, has dark brilliance of immeasurable venom. 19. Thoughts revolving; the shining blue hairlocks of offspring My unequalled beloved has a glowing body colored as half bloomed red lotus. 20. My mind wandering as a deer playing in the forest of ignorance When confronting danger, fearless as a deer in the hands of Lord Śiva, source of peace. Vibhūti: holy ashes Āśān’s poem entitled Vibhūti, holy ashes, consists of five verses and echoes the idea of surrendering at Śiva’s feet. Vibhūti abounds in references to the god’s compassion and protection. In Malayalam, kāruṇyam or daya, translated as compassion, grace, or mercy, are interchangeable. This compassion, or grace as per Tamil Śaiva Siddhānta, liberates the devotee. There is a fourfold, four-stage hierarchical path of devotion – acts of service, worship, spiritual discipline, and, ultimately, knowledge, activated at each stage by the Lord’s grace, culminating in the liberation of the soul from the bondage of karma (Peterson 1991:17–18). Vibhūti depicts Śiva as the creator, sustainer, and compassionate one, full of grace. Grace is essential to liberation of the soul from the bondage of karma. Furthermore, the use of Lokeśwari refers to Śiva, and to Pārvatī as the divine consort. Wendy Doniger O’Flaherty observes: Pārvatī’s ambiguous mortal or immortal status is the focal point of transition between male dominated and female dominated hierogamies. Below she remains a figure of merely mortal worshipper of God; but above her, and

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Poetics of devotion infusing her with power, is the figure of Devī, the Goddess herself, regarded not only as a divinity but as the divinity.11

Āśān’s representation of devotional union is associated with the union of prakṛti and puruṣa, seen in the Purāṇic mythology, where the goddess often comes to affect her consort as prakṛti affects puruṣa.12 Āśān defines bhakti as a union of mortals and immortals in the sense that he depicts Śiva’s union with Lokeśwari, or Pārvatī. In order to project his theme of the relationship between spiritual and social union, he employs Tantric Hinduism. Tantric practice addresses the unity of prakṛti and puruṣa, male and female, pure and impure, knowledge and action.13 Āśān’s narrative voice in Vibhūti considers himself as the ignorant one, someone who is singing and shouting yearning for knowledge that comes from surrendering at Śiva’s feet. Śiva is portrayed as the one who strides through the three realms of this universe and the holy ash on the forehead are steps toward liberation from the bondage of karma. The poem concludes with the poet caressed in the fullness of Śiva’s grace. The act of devotion in worship and attitude remains central to this poem and Āśān’s other poems in the Stotṛakṛitikal collection. Vibhūti 1. I bow at your feet, O renowned Ash, who creates and sustains and protects, O handsome one, who spreads much prosperity, beautifully manifested O compassionate one, One with Lokēśwarī! 2. One world becomes diverse through you Depiction of the creator, Brahma, From you the entire universe is created You, the Blue One, are the protector Seeking you, I turn to ash O pure light Lord! The One who smears ashes, I bow at your feet. 3. In love with hands clasped together, Vedas, wealth of Āgamas, the abundance of beauty The beautiful songs of awe-inspiring description In ignorance singing, standing in front of you, shouting your praise;

Poetics of devotion 65 The holy trident Ash one with knowledge, I stand and bow before you. 4. Coming to the world, realizing the incomplete knowledge striding the three realms of the world leaving the community; the marks on the forehead are steps towards heaven In love laying my head I eternally prostrate at your feet. 5. With great pride, distracting around the universe Cupid, the god of love, burning with the fire Coming from his big eyes The cooling of the full moonlight Adorned with the glow of the moon Caressed in the fullness of Śiva’s grace I remember, the Ash smeared one. Dēvīstōtṛaṅgal: praise to the goddess Another hymn of praise, Śivastōtṛamāla, garland of praise to Śiva, consists of several small praises including Dēvīstōtṛaṅgal, consisting of fifteen verses, and Śivabhaktipañcakam, comprising of five verses, expressing Āśān’s deep devotion to the goddess, Pārvatī, and Śiva. Both of these praises illustrate the soteriological significance of worshiping at the Lord’s feet, may it be Dēvī’s or Śiva’s. The act of devotion imparts knowledge to the devotee, reinforcing that bhakti cannot be separated from knowledge ( jñāna) and action (karma) and that the ultimate goal of Śaiva devotion remains in the release from karma saṁsāra, the cycle of rebirth. Āśān’s narrative voice in Dēvīstōtṛaṅgal seeks refuge at the golden lotus feet of the goddess as it can provide protection and bestow fortune. Dēvīstōtṛaṅgal depicts the goddess who has been united with Paramēśvaram, another name for Śiva, and who has thus achieved liberation. The fifth verse possesses a friendly tone, sākhya bhāva, as the poet states, “[Y]ou stand there watching in repose; then why should I praise you.” In the subsequent verse, the poet represents the goddess’s timeless and eternal character and her generative power as astounding to a devotee. He beseeches the goddess to bestow him with her grace. In Hinduism, goddesses can be divided into two categories based on their nature: the gracious and the ferocious. The gracious form is represented with big breasts, while the ferocious form is represented through big teeth. Although the goddesses can be classified in such a way, they have the same essence as all other gods. In Dēvīstōtṛaṅgal, the goddess is perceived as both; she is gracious, as well as ferocious. She is the all-powerful one who has created the universe and overcome evil,

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but at the same time she is gracious to her devotees. The tropes of gracious and ferocious forms of the goddess abound in the devotion of the Śakta tradition of Bengal.14 Toward the concluding verses, the poet in despair seeks grace. Tamil Śaiva poems of Appar and Cuntarar illustrate an aspect of such despair and grace (Peterson 1991). Dēvīstōtṛaṅgal 1. Lamp as Imperishable Brahma, the two-sided illusion-karma and jñāna;15 O Paramēśvarī, sweet as nectar, gone by without any challenges, I bow before you. 2. My mother, Paramēśvarī! Have mercy on me Thinking anything but your golden lotus feet There is no other refuge, O Dēvī! Your holy protection bestowing fortune. 3. Your great body without any ill, pure hearted, joined with the beautiful bodied Paramēśvaran, who smears ash white as milk, you have reached heaven, shining brightly among white clouds. 4. You give meaning to word, mixing everything-good and bad; Today no one can praise you, O Lord of the universe! But with awe, my eyes pour tears. 5. O Ambike! When I bow down to praise you, my mind awakens with strength Bhavati,16 you stand there watching in repose; then why should I praise you. 6. Like sky and time eternal Both limitless and small Without departing, showing eternal form, O distinct heroine in the world, protect me!

Poetics of devotion 67 7. Sun and moon without moving in the sky, all the countless stars stood still when earth came; Contemplating your sovereignty in compassionately creating all this; who will not be astonished, O Īśvarī, lord of the universe! 8. Consciously thinking lovingly arriving fragmented, You, O Mother! then complete, unequalled, Remembering your awe-inspiring power Like Pole star, victorious over the enemy.17 9. Never, not at all, letting alone; Standing, understanding your radiance eternally joyful, seeing your greatness, those doubting, who do not prostrate before you, disaster is theirs, O Dēvī! 10. O Mother, you grant all of my desires, knowing as it is done here But still suffering grows engulfing in the flow of conversation This is the way suffering transpires. 11. Mother your grateful son, Also, cheerfully giving wealth to ungrateful son Above that compassionately weeping and making sure if son gets enough milk here as part of motherly duty.18 12. O daughter of the mountain!19 Particularly, show compassion on me Where all I am wandering Favorably granting my internal desires Wipe away all my sufferings, O Lord of beginning! 13. O One who grants prosperity! No matter what suffering I face, Remembering your mercy is comforting to your servant, Springing in the hearts of those believing, You mother of the entire universe! Mother! Protect!

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Poetics of devotion 14. Burning in the fiery river of suffering Bestow your mercy on me to cool my body May I always come prepared, O Dēvī, to daily serve at your feet. 15. With devotion I come to you; your feet my refuge; Perplexed and unfortunate as I am; henceforth, bless me with your immense love, O Dēvī! It is your responsibility, you who reign supreme over other gods!

Śivabhaktipañcakam: devotion to Śiva Śivabhaktipañcakam consists of five verses in which the soteriological significance of worshiping the Lord’s feet remain central. The theme of separation and union is expressed in verse 4. The ever-increasing intolerable agony of separation is cooled in loving union with the deity. The concluding verse reinforces monism, everything to be one, as the poet sits in the blissful thought of union with the Lord for a long time. Śivabhaktipañcakam 1. May the thoughts of your feet be like the wonder of yoga; may your ambrosial stories be like the elixir of life; May my senses blossom like flower in worship at your feet. 2. All those knowledgeable ones in the world Will eternally praise your ambrosial stories Extremely enjoying in your devotion, Śhambho!20 Cooling the mind, pouring tears of joy. 3. Your well adorned ash shines white as silver Arriving at your temple; O Omniscient!21 daily worshipping at your feet, Leading myself forgetting sleep and night.

Poetics of devotion 69 4. My mind has wandered much thinking of you Burning increasing in intolerable agony of separation Losing my ego, crying and pouring tears; Cooling my own self. 5. Showing this body and senses are one, Knowledge without boundary and relationship; Flowing as Advaita, engrossed in bliss, I sit a long time beside you, O Omniscient Lord! Śivajñānapañcakam: knowledge of Śiva Śivajñānapañcakam, the five verses on knowledge of Śiva, begins with an acknowledgment of Āśān’s Guru, Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru. Knowledge of Śiva as the Omniscient Lord and as the One who has stridden the three realms of the universe, can bestow knowledge to overcome desire and eternally enjoy bliss in the ambrosial ocean. This knowledge in devotion leads to liberation and his imagination of a blissful hereafter as he writes, “I drown myself in the ocean of ambrosia.” Attaining knowledge at the feet of Lord Śiva remains the central trope in this poem. The concluding verse in this poem speaks of Āśān pledging to remove desire and to yoke himself in Śiva’s knowledge, the path toward liberation from earthly sorrow. Hence, the verses in this poem assert the paths of jñāna and bhakti to be interspersed and recur in his other poems as well. Śivajñānapañcakam 1. My notable Guru compassionately advised with hope, desire, and confidence, continue thinking of God Without you there is no experience merging with you blissfully, I stand, O Lord! 2. The philosophy told in the Upaniṣads Without hinderance meditating; Gaining knowledge of Siva! When will I be released of my sorrow? Tell me O Lord!

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Poetics of devotion 3. Those things invisible remain blurry There is no essence in topic visible O Omniscient, Śiva! I see in the brightness of moonlight, my Lord! 4. Time passed in the whirlwind Clan went, good people passed See me prostrate at your feet that strides and bridges the realms of the universe, O Śiva! 5. As moonlight removes the darkness Your footsteps crossing the threshold from sorrow to paradise; Pledging knowledge, lacking lustful desire, With happiness, I drown myself in the ocean of ambrosia.

Bhaktavilāpam: devotional lament The themes of devotion at the Lord’s feet, seeking refuge in the Lord and desiring compassion through total surrender, appear again in Bhaktavilāpam, meaning “devotee’s lament.” Bhaktavilāpam consists of sixty-four verses; verses 1–55 are set in four-line stanzas, while verses 56–64 are set in eight-line stanzas. The narrator depicts his own despair and longing to unite with the Lord. For the purpose of understanding the themes of bhakti, I have included twenty verses from this poem that depict the devotees yearning to unite with the deity in the devotees’ quest for liberation. Āśān refers to Murugan, the son of Pārvatī and Śiva, whose vehicle is a peacock. Murugan, who is venerated with different names, Kārtikkeyan, Subramanya, Skandha, is considered as both nirguṇ, without attributes, and saguṇ, with attributes (Clothey 1978). Devotional practices in Kerala transcends sectarian boundaries between Vaiṣṇava, Śaiva, and other local deity sects in Kerala. Āśān, as a Śaiva devotee, emphasizes the ability to reach god no matter how god is imagined, and in Bhaktavilāpam, he asserts the significance of oneness. This aspect becomes obvious as Āśān discusses death in the second verse where no body – whether gross, subtle, or causal – exists. Death symbolizes spiritual liberation. The poet’s lament resonates with the poet’s need for liberation from sorrow caused by ignorance. In verse 16, the poet emphasizes the importance of achieving consciousness that can liberate one from the bondage of ignorance, similar to Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru’s philosophical text, Atmopadēśśatakam.

Poetics of devotion 71 Bhaktavilāpam 1. In this illusory world, as I crawl like a poisoned fainted person O Lord Śiva, my God, shining with your lance; Why you are so kind supporting me, bringing me nearer to thy feet. 2. In death there is no gross, subtle, or causal body, Imperishable in time, is it an illusion to the mind? O Muruga, the Godhead! 3. O beloved Lord, I am a sinner, not prostrating at your lotus feet; Though I grow in sin, grant your compassion, O Lord! 4. O Lord, when the god of love, Kama, deftly shoots his arrow on me; May your compassionate eyes protect me from becoming close to beautiful women. 5. Drowning in the sea of sorrow, this slave, O Lord, finds courage in you For you are the son of the Supreme, who will surely save me, your servant. 6. O Lord, in my grieving mind Though incapable of realizing your feet I have declared, there is none other than you to save me. 7. Will my mortal body blend with your immortal body? Will it die yearning for life?

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Poetics of devotion Will it perish without virility? O Lord, who glows filled with compassion! 8. Aren’t you the One Sweet as Nectar, the nucleus of life, who travels across the realms as the breeze? When will this insurmountable grief end, my beloved, seated on the huge peacock mount? 9. O Lord, when will I be like a humming beetle, quietly sitting extracting the nectar from the beautifully and joyfully blossoming flower; exuding nectar.22 10. If I live to hate as a glutton, If I find the way to heaven, If the king grants shelter, No matter what, my birth is good, O Lord! 11. Standing beside your great lotus feet, Unpacking my sorrows, No one can understand them to be true You alone know my sorrow, O Lord! 12. I know everything is from you it is not adorning for an ignorant to be quiet; Despite learning the four Vedas, I don’t have the capacity to describe, O Lord! 13. O Lord, I am a sinner not knowing the tradition of depending on you; Submitting myself at your feet, will pour your compassion. 14. Applying your holy ash, reciting your name, Spending each day serving you,

Poetics of devotion 73 Unceasingly worshipping your Lotus feet Daily meditating, O Lord on peacock mount! 15. Without any efforts, as though in the desert, drinking mirage water Quitting all worldly lusts, I am coming in your presence, O Lord! 16. The knowledge not known, without knowing known, bliss in the form of knowledge, undestroyed, As ritual, focused merging in it, unwaveringly I sat, seeking liberation said, O Lord! 17. While wandering as an ascetic without any help, Realized your feet as refuge You, the one who shows compassion, when will you manifest yourself, O Lord! 18. I do not have any devotion to you, I am a sinner without knowledge outwardly worshipping your feet, forgive and comfort me, O Compassionate God! 19. Adorned with Goddess Ganga on your head and your beautiful feet To constantly remember your beautiful feet lovingly grant me protection, O Lord! 20. Apart from you, I say, I have no one else to depend you save and protect, O Great Meaningful One! Joyfully transforming and taking myriad forms Expressing compassion, you reside in Karuva temple, my Lord!23 Devotion to Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru: grace and knowledge at the Guru’s feet The following verses illustrate Āśān’s devotion to Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru. This devotion to Guru and his worship of Guru can be seen as the earliest reference of

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Guru’s apotheosis.24 For example, in Nijānandavilāsam, verse 3 Āśān describes the nurturing aspect and in Anugrahaparamadaśakam verse 9, Āśān affirms that at Guru’s feet there is extreme bliss as he expressed through the term, Parānandapādame. I give respect to Guru’s words, as waves of ambrosia; With hands as the kalpaka25 tree branch, [He] sweetly caresses and blesses me, Mixed with dexterity, he embraces me; Brings complete destruction to māyā; Kisses me on my head, with extreme love, And teaches me the knowledge of the advaita. (Nijānandavilāsam, 3) I a lowly person who takes refuge in you, You can discipline me; Is it fair to give illness to the body that causes suffering of mind? The one who grants wishes stands with moon on head; At whose feet one attains bliss! (Anugrahaparamadaśakam, 9) These examples from Āśān’s Stotṛakṛitikal represent a network of relationship between the divine and the human and also demonstrate tropes of classical Sanskrit and South Indian bhakti traditions central to his theology of liberation based on devotion. The description of the Lord’s feet and surrendering at God’s feet as a means of liberation from bondage not only reinforces the soteriological significance of these poems but also arouses divine passion toward the deity. Devotion like this in Tamil Śrī Vaiṣṇava literature, as descriptions of the Lord’s body, served to generate divine passion and created an experience of amorous feelings inherited from Sanskrit poetry (Hopkins 2007:69). With exposure to Western poetry and the reform movements across India, his poetic genius also changed, as I discussed in the preceding chapter. As a corollary, Āśān’s later poems, including his lyric poems and short poems, changed because of his poetic reform, reflecting the agency of hybridity. The poetics of reform translates spiritual liberation as embodied in the poetics of devotion to social and political liberation based on the concept of love, snēham, which is synomyous to bhakti, or anpu.

Notes 1 Pāṭṭu can be a song as well as a genre. 2 The works of prose can be classified into two rhythmic prose (gadyam style) and official prose (documentary style). Novels were introduced during colonial period, and O. Chandu Menon’s novel Indulekha vividly portrays the changes in literary expression

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3

4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

and in identity during colonial period. The genre of attakathas, stories, also gained prominence during the colonial period. Kuñjan Nambyār (1705–1770) developed this genre to critique existing Brahmanical domination and subjugation through miming and verbal acting in Tuḷḷal, a solo dance performance. Similarly, the marriage songs, in the Hindu religious realm known as Kalyāṇakkalikal, are based on the theme of tālikettu, the practice found among the Nāyars and Īzhavas of tying a tali, a symbolic metal piece, around the neck of the bride before the actual marriage, which marks an important time in an individual’s life. Among Kerala Christians, the Vāthilthurappāṭṭu is a song sung by the mother-in-law, who stands near the door of the bridal chamber, offers the bridegroom a petty bribe, and asks him to open the door. In addition, during the festival of Onam, Onappāṭṭu, Kaikottakalipāṭṭu, and Thiruvatirapāṭṭu songs are sung. The elegiac folk songs echo the lamentations among the lower-caste people in Kerala and are sung when they grieve the death of a family member. Cf. Indira Peterson, Poems to Śiva: The Hymns of the Tamil Saints (New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1991); Vasudha Narayanan, The Vernacular Veda: Revelation, Recitation, and Ritual (Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 1994). The Tirunizhalmāla ridicules the Brahmans and the Aryan gods, which makes it less appealing as a bhakti work. The initial bhakti proponents of Kerala were Thuncatu Ezhuthacchan (1500–1580), Pūntānam Nambūtiri (1547–1640), and Melpathūr Nārāyaṇa Bhattathiri (1560–1648). Cf. Cerukunnam Purushottaman, Pūnthānavum Bhaktiprasthānavum (Patanam, Trivandrum: State Institute of Languages, 1992). Cf. N. Krishnapillai, Kairaliyūde Katha: Sāhityacaritṛam (Kottayam: National Book Stall, n.d.). Friedhelm Hardy, Viraha-Bhakti: The Early History of Kṛṣṇa Devotion in South India (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983), pp. 36–8. The first fifteen verses of this translation were published as Feet Like Lotus Powder. In Wendy Doniger, ed., Norton Anthology of Religions: Hinduism, Vol. 1 (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2015), pp. 370–2. Wendy Doniger O’Flaherty, Other Goddess Figures. In John Stratton Hawley and Donna Marie Wulff, eds., The Divine Consort (Berkeley: Religious Studies Series: Graduate Theological Union, 1982), pp. 132–4. Ibid. Alf Hiltebeitel, Hinduism. In Mircea Eliade, ed., The Encyclopedia of Religions (New York: Macmillan, 1987), p. 352. Cf. Rachel McDermott (2001a, 2001b) and June McDaniel (2004) offer insight into goddess worship in Bengal. Through karma you overcame death, and through knowledge you taste ambrosia. Honorific term for addressing women. The poet refers to Dēvī Mahātmya story where goddess overcame Mahiśāsura, the buffalo demon, and is considered all powerful. Reference is made to Pārvatī. Epithet for Pārvatī. Epithet for Śiva. The word used in the original is Cidrūp, which translates as “omniscient” or “absolute knowledge.” The poet compares himself to the beetle and the Lord as the source of nectar or elixir of life. Āśān lived and worshiped at Karuva temple. For a recent discussion of Guru’s apotheosis refer to George Pati, Movements, Miracles, and Mysticism: Apotheosis of Sree Narayana Guru of Early Twentieth Century Kerala.

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In Diana Dimitrova and Tatiana Oranskaia, eds., Divinization in South Asian Traditions (London: Routledge, 2018), pp. 115–30. 25 Kalpaka is believed to be the celestial tree that grants all wishes. In this context, it symbolically represents the Guru’s graciousness.

References Aravindakshan, N. (1999). The Literary Tradition of Kerala. In P. J. Cherian, ed., Essays on the Cultural Formation of Kerala, Vol. 4.2. Thiruvananthapuram: Kerala State Gazetteer. Āśān, Kumāran. (1981). Kumāran Āśānte Sampūrna Padyakrithikal. Kottayam: Sahitya Pravathaka Co-Operative Society. Ayyar, L. V. Ramaswami. (1936). The Evolution of Malayalam Morphology. Ernakulam: Cochin Government Press. Biardeau, Madeleine. (1989). Hinduism: The Anthropology of a Civilization, trans. Richard Nice. Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1989. Chaitanya, Krishna. (1971). A History of Malayalam Literature. New Delhi: Orient Longman. Clothey, Fred W. (1978). The Many Faces of Murukan: The History and Meaning ofa South Indian God. The Hague: Mouton Publishers. Culter, Norman. (1987). Songs of Experience. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Freeman, Rich. (2003a). Genre and Society: Literary Culture of Premodern Kerala. In Sheldon Pollock, ed., Literary Cultures in History: Reconstructions from South Asia. Berkeley: University of California Press. Freeman, Rich. (2003b). The Literature of Hinduism in Malayalam. In Gavin Flood, ed., The Blackwell Companion to Hinduism. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing. Frost, Christine Mangala. (2006). Bhakti and Nationalism in the Poetry of Subramania Bharati. International Journal of Hindu Studies, Vol. 10, No. 2, pp. 151–67. Ganesh, K. N. (1997). Keraḷatinte Innalekal. Thiruvananthapuram: Department of Cultural Publications. George, Karimpumannil Mathai. (1968). A Survey of Malayalam Literature. New York: Asia Publishing House. Hardy, Friedhelm. (1983). Viraha-Bhakti: The Early History of Kṛṣṇa Devotion in South India. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hawley, John Stratton. (2015). A Storm of Songs: India and the Idea of the Bhakt Movement. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Hiltebeitel, Alf. (1987). Hinduism. In Mircea Eliade, ed. The Encyclopedia of Religions. New York: Macmillan. Hopkins, Steven. P. (2007). An Ornament for Jewels: Love Poems for the Lord of Gods by Vedāntadeśika. New York: Oxford University Press. Klostermaier, Klaus K. (1989). A Survey of Hinduism. Albany: State University of New York Press. Krishnapillai, N. (n.d.). Kairaliyude Katha: Sāhityacaritram. Kottayam: National Book Stall. Kuroor, Manoj. (1996). Bhaktiyute Keraḷiyapāramparyam. In Manoj Kuroor, ed., Ancati, Jñānappāna, Oṇappāttu. Kottayam: DC Books, pp. 39–60. Leelavati, Mundanat. (1999). Āśānte kāvyaṅgaḷile strīpakṣavādam. In E. K. Purushothaman, ed., Sūryatejas. Chennai: Āśān Memorial Association, pp. 105–22. McDaniel, June. (2004). Offering Flowers, Feeding Skulls: Goddess Worship in West Bengal. New York: Oxford University Press.

Poetics of devotion 77 McDermott, Rachel Fell. (2001a). Mother of My Heart, Daughter of My Dreams: Kālī and Umā in the Devotional Poetry of Bengal. New York: Oxford University Press. McDermott, Rachel Fell. (2001b). Singing to the Goddess: Poems to Kālī and Umā from Bengal. New York: Oxford University Press. Nair, P. K. Parameswaran. (1967). History of Malayalam Literature. New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi. Narayanan, Vasudha. (1987). The Way and the Goal: Expressions of Devotion in the Early Śrī Vaiṣṇava Tradition. Washington: Institute for Vaishnava Studies; and Harvard: Center for the Study of World Religions, pp. 7–57. Narayanan, Vasudha. (1994). The Vernacular Veda: Revelation, Recitation, and Ritual. Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press. Osella, Filippo and Osella, Caroline. (2003). “Ayyappan Saranam: Masculinity and the Sabarimala Pilgrimage in Kerala.” RAI.NS, Vol. 9, pp. 729–53. O’Flaherty, Wendy Doniger. (1982). Other Goddess Figures. In John Stratton Hawley and Donna Marie Wulff, eds., The Divine Consort. Berkeley: Religious Studies Series: Graduate Theological Union. Paniker, K. Ayyappa. (1982). A Short History of Malayalam Literature. 3rd rev. and enl. ed. Trivandrum: Deptartment of Public Relations. Pati, George. (2014). Nambūtiris and Ayyappan Devotees in Kerala. In P. Pratap Kumar, ed., Contemporary Hinduism. London: Routledge, pp. 204–16. Pati, George. (2015). Feet as a Lotus Powder. In Wendy Doniger, ed., Norton Anthology of Religions: Hinduism, Vol. 1. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., pp. 379–82. Peterson, Indira V. (1991). Poems to Śiva: The Hymns of the Tamil Saints. New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Pollock, Sheldon. (1998). India in the Vernacular Millennium. In Daedalus, Vol. 127, No. 3, Early Modernities (Summer, 1998), pp. 41–74. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press. Pollock, Sheldon. (2006). The Language of the Gods in the World of Men: Sanskrit, Culture, and Power in Premodern India. Berkeley: University of California Press. Prentiss, Karen Pechilis. The Embodiment of Bhakti. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999. Purushottaman, Cerukunnam. (1992). Punthanavum Bhaktiprasthanavum (Patanam). Trivandrum: State Institute of Languages. Ramanujan, Attipat Krishnaswami. (1985). Poems of Love and War. New York: Columbia University Press. Roy, Kuldip K. (1974). Subramanya Bharati. New York: Twayne Publishers Inc. Shulman, David. (2016). Tamil: A Biography. Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Zvelebil, Kamil. (1973). The Smile of Murugan on Tamil Literature of South India. Leiden: E. J. Brill.

5

Poetics of reform Bhakti as a movement

In the previous chapter, I argued Āśān’s works embody bhakti as devotion toward a deity, where taking refuge at the Lord’s feet and seeking compassion both possess soteriological significance. Devotion toward deity was personal. This chapter offers a close reading of Naḷini (1911), exploring the various expressions of bhakti as devotion in Āśān’s poetry as well as the way Āśān employs an allegory of love to express bhakti as a movement that seeks liberation at the personal and social levels. Bhakti as devotion finds meaning in bhakti as a movement in his concept of love, snēham. A synonym of snēham in Malayalam is anpu, derived from Tamil language, employed to describe “love, attachment, friendship, benevolence, devotion, and piety” (Burrow and Emeneau 1961:24).1 In Malayalam, anpu means snēham (love), bhakti (devotion), daya (compassion), cercca (union), and santoṣam (happiness) (Ṥabdatārāvali 2004:141). Drawing theories and themes of bhakti, this chapter emphasizes the significance of the poet’s utopian vision represented in his concept of love, snēham, and furthers John Hawley’s articulation that bhakti as a movement acknowledges the “uncomfortable alliance between songs of protest” and “songs of reassurance, which transports to an imagined realm of color, taste, and limitless good” (Hawley 2015), and David Hardiman’s emphasis that “religious belief and practice often reflected an aspiration for a better life, which was not merely located in the hereafter but also very much in the here and now” (Hardiman 1997). I argue in this chapter that Āśān’s deployment of snēham was central to his utopian vision of a reimagined community of egalitarianism, thereby illustrating bhakti religion in modern Kerala. He creates a consciousness of the polarizing binaries of self/other and subject/ object and challenges them through the bhakti trope of emancipation from hierarchy and rigid, mutually exclusive notions of “self” and “other” in the casteoriented society of Kerala. This idea of oneness was grounded in the Advaita philosophy. As Anantanand Rambachan in his exposition of the Advaita Vedanta philosophy emphasizes, “ignorance is thinking that the self is an isolated, limited entity, distinct and different from every other self” and “liberation is knowing that the self is without limits, free and identical with all beings” (Rambachan 2015:72). Malayalam literature is a product of various sources as discussed in the previous chapter. Malayalam first interacted with subcontinental, and later with transnational literary trends and movements (Aravindakshan 1999). With regard to bhakti literature and regional languages, Sumathi Ramaswamy has interpreted the use of

Poetics of reform 79 regional languages for bhakti literature as a protest against Sanskrit formulations and to negotiate a new identity – national and local, especially as observed in the Tamil-speaking region (Ramaswamy 1997). The Tamil bhakti movements flourished all over the south and permeated to the northern regions of India. Kamil Zvelebil (1973) asserts that the bhakti movement in Tamil was an “ideological reaction” against the early forms of feudalism as well as against the establishment and stabilization of class-society in South India. North Indian bhakti was an expression of struggle against a fully developed feudal system of the 14th and 17th centuries (Zvelebil 1973:190). From the 8th to the 15th centuries, the regional languages separated from their root language in such a socio-literary context that the bhakti movement was able to bring unity among the people and become the liberation movement of the ordinary people, meaning the lower castes (Pillai 1992:100). For example, some bhakti poets in the South and North India, including Basavanna, Mahādēviyakka, Kabīr, Nāmdev, and Tulasidās, circulated such ideas of transcending caste boundaries and negotiating an identity based on devotional love of god translated in social settings, helping people realize their individual worth. For instance, Kabīr’s poems are filled with themes of boundless love and devotion to God that becomes the foundation for egalitarian social philosophy. All those who practice selfless devotion are rendered equal, no matter their caste affiliation or other status (Lorenzen 1995). As David Lorenzen argues that contemporary followers of Kabīr, use Kabīr’s teachings to reject the marginality assigned to them in the hierarchical caste order (Lorenzen 1995). Furthermore, the modern Tamil literary period was marked by nationalism, as Tamils began to look back on their past with pride and set about freeing the present from the degradation that had set in. Subramanya Bharathi (1882–1921), the Tamil poet, was the voice of this new movement. His message of love was transformative. Based on the bhakti movement, Bharathi’s poetic vision and literature fueled the hope of freedom from colonial rule, caste oppression, and economic tyranny employing the language of love (Jesudasan and Jesudasan 1961). The poems Āśān wrote fall into three distinct categories: Stotṛakṛitikal (devotional hymns), Khanda Kāvyam (short lyric poems), and the shorter poems. As a poet who grew up amidst the cultural stress generated by social reform movements during the British colonial rule in Kerala, Āśān envisioned that his poems would be a creative nexus of the traditional and the modern and would forge a movement toward unity at the social as well as the literary spheres (as discussed earlier). Between the praise hymns and the shorter poems, Āśān wrote khanda kāvyams, lyric poems. The lyric form of Āśān’s poetry creates a social presence based on religious motives. As Edwin Gerow observes, the lyric form of love poetry is at once the most “secular application,” but deep religious motives guide its expression, and these motives become more significant in those poems devoted to themes of moral life that urge for salvation (Gerow 1974). Āśān’s khanda kāvyams express religious motives with secular applications. He invokes a social presence that seeks to adopt the middle path between tradition and modernity, incorporating the elements of the hymns as well as the elements of the short poems. David Shulman suggests that “Modernity is always a relative concept, privileging the more recent over the more distant past and thereby habitually distorting the latter…It is

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necessarily continuous with its own prehistory, and it is never a single, homogenous set of features. All sorts of amalgams and confusions are the norm” (Shulman 2016:250). Naḷini, or Oru Sneham (1911), represents the meeting of the East and the West among Āśān’s poems. This poem employs symbolism and allegory as in the romantic mode, and it also weaves in religious themes – such as love at God’s feet, the compassion and grace of the Lord, separation and union, freedom from the cycle of rebirth through renunciation – to present the message of love, or snēham as the crux of the universe. Simply put, Hybridization was already present in Malayalam literature and Āśān adds to this hybridization endorsing Shulman’s claim that modernity in literature marked “all sorts of amalgams and confusions.” Āśān defines love or snēham as the crux of everything that exists, including God. He employs snēham as the medium for emphasizing personal devotion and social reform. Love is the essence of everything in the universe, nothing less than this essence of love is the only truth. The world’s touch entices, but O pure one, I renounce it for this deeper love. (Naḷini, 136) Emancipation was personal as well as social: personal in the sense of attaining self-realization and social in terms of the liberation of the low caste. Consciousness about God through snēham as bhakti evolves awareness of the human self, which becomes the crux for social reform. Āśān considers this love essential to attaining liberation, jīvanmukti, individual and social liberation. Hence, Āśān’s idea of freedom is not confined to individualism, which one observes in other writings of that time in Kerala; rather, freedom is aimed at the collective. It is through the knowledge of self at God’s feet, one realizes the “Other,” and this dispels the ignorance of the self and the other. This knowledge of self/other is obtained through love of God, the essence of everything, and subsequently is translated in the love of humans as he declares in Naḷini. The main character, Divākaran, says in Naḷini, “snehamāṇakhilasāramūzhiyil,” which translates “love is the essence of the universe.” As seen in Āśān’s devotional poems, love between human and divine becomes complete at God’s feet. Naḷini reverberates with Tamil akam and puram poetic aspects.2 Akam poetry represents “a world of human experience” and “the particular yields to the universal” whereas puram poetry consists of historical characters “but the story line is predetermined by convention” (Cutler 1987). Naḷini begins with reference to Himalayan ranges, and such reference to a mountainous landscape, kuṟiñci, illustrates the Tamil akam love aspect depicting the internal mood of love and union. Long ago – in the beautiful Himalayas, Young ascetic flows outward in joy As the sun’s rays spread out at dawn. (Naḷini 1)

Poetics of reform 81 Like a snowy peak of the Himalayas, which the sun’s rays joyfully embrace. Slowly, with soft tears and a tender smile, Adoringly, she speaks to the ascetic: (Naḷini 72) We travelled tirelessly, and she upheld me with her wise words. As swiftly as the rising sun touches the mountain peaks, so we came to the forest. (Naḷini 109) For example, verses 1, 72, and 109, depicts separation and longing for union. Āśān elucidates the relationship between sun and lotus, the male (Divākaran) and the female (Naḷini) characters of the poem into a mountainous landscape using elements of akam poetry. For example, mullai or the forest landscape in verses 7, 36, and 37, depicts patient waiting. The forest full of blossoming trees and roving animals, From afar he admires it, as though He sees a gorgeous work of art. (Naḷini 7) The fearless ascetic, controlling his senses, Has reached the middle of the forest; there He stops, stands wondering, entranced by a woman’s voice raised in song. (Naḷini 36) To this forest melody, full of emotion In its words, in its deep meaning He reaches out, listening, Caught up in it, his gaze seeking the source. (Naḷini 37) Closely associated with mullai is pālai, or wasteland or forest, depicting separation from parents, illustrating Naḷini’s separation from her parents. In verse 91, Āśān employs marutam or fields and dry arid imagery depicting the conflict between Naḷini and her father. For example: But I was full of sorrow, Though my father tried to restore me, As from the well the farmer waters The first rice sprig in summer. (Naḷini 91)

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He uses summer and sunset but not in a seashore setting to depict separation and anxiety as in neytal, despite the fact such emotions find expression in other landscapes of pālai and kuṟiñci. Āśān expresses love in all its beauty, a wholeness which gives this work another title, Oru Snēham, or “A Love.” Naḷini finds that her childhood friend, Divākaran, with whom she is in love, has left for the Himalayas to become an ascetic. Divākaran, described in the same form as Śiva, the ascetic, can be seen as a puram characteristic: His long beard and nails and ashes on his body Reveal that he has been meditating for a long time, His body, naked and shining, Has overcome heat and cold. (Naḷini, 2) He fears no one on earth, He is a fountain of compassion for all; His courageous face, Shows that he is prepared for anything. (Naḷini, 3) Naḷini runs away to commit suicide after learning that her father has arranged a marriage for her to someone other than Divākaran. A female ascetic takes Naḷini into her care and introduces her to spiritual disciplines. Naḷini performs meditation, or tapas, for five years, her objective being reunion with Divākaran. While at the foothills of the Himalayas, Divākaran comes across a young female ascetic, who is none other than Naḷini, his childhood love. Divākaran says good-bye to Naḷini, but Naḷini deters him from leaving and declares that she would die without him and that she wishes to remain to serve him as a disciple. Divākaran metaphorically appears as a cuckoo bird and teaches Naḷini the hidden concept of tat tvam asi, which means “thou art that,” an advaita philosophy expressed in the Upaniṣad and later expounded by Sankaracarya.3 The imparting of the concept of tat tvam asi becomes essential knowledge for bliss or freedom from the bondage of samsāra, the cycle of birth. As Naḷini understands, she experiences ultimate bliss portrayed in her death. The story is about gaining knowledge, union, and bliss, and this union translates to subverting normativity in terms of social hierarchy. The relationship between Divākaran and Naḷini embodies pure love, blending the spiritual love of God and the love found between human beings. In the introduction to the poem upon its 1911 publication, A. R. Rajaraja Varma, notes the passionate engagement of love ruled by rajas (passion) to be channelized toward sattva (goodness). Naḷini’s meeting of Divākaran after her years of meditation draws its parallel from the well-known encounter of Pārvatī and Śiva. In Kumārāsambhāva, Kāḷidāsa portrays the physical union between Pārvatī and Śiva in the eight sargas demonstrating saṁbhoga sṛṅgāra, essentially rajas. Āśān replaces Kāḷidāsa’s concept of sṛṅgāra defined by rajas and remakes them into sattvika, thereby purging the sexual references into mere expressions of love. Āśān

Poetics of reform 83 depicts Divākaran as a man wholly ascetic – dead to emotional attachment – and Naḷini is ruled by emotional love. The union of Divākaran and Naḷini demonstrates the union of the sexual (the emotional love) and the spiritual as presented in medieval devotional poetry. Love expressed in Āśān’s Naḷini echoes Telugu padams, where a relationship is eroticized in a manner devoid of any superficial dualistic distinction between the body and metaphysical or psychological substratum because for devotees, love of a god is not like a sexual experience. As if eros were a metaphor for devotion, it is erotic in its own right and is as comprehensive and consuming a form as one encounters in any human love (Narayana Rao 1994:19). Love of God was central to gaining knowledge as articulated in the Bhāgavata Purāṇa 6.16.40 4 and 12.13.18. 5 Āśān emphasizes such divine knowledge of the self as a means for liberation in his poems (as illustrated in the previous chapter). As Andrew Rawlinson claims, the difference between love bhakti and meditational bhakti is that meditational bhakti is viśeṣa jñāna (superior knowledge; Rawlinson 1987). Āśān’s notion of love was a device for polemics based on advaita. This liberation depended on the oneness of the universe in love, having been created from the five elements as expressed in Naḷini, verse 123: Of all the innumerable creatures, each busy with its own doings, each of us is only a small particle traveling through the narrowest passage. Āśān claimed that at Śiva’s feet one received light, the light that dispelled darkness of ignorance. His poems exemplify bhakti as the way of knowledge that results in salvation or freedom. This knowledge is defined as sālokya: being in the same heaven as and with a continuous vision of the Lord (Carman 1987; Bryant 2017; Holdrege 2013). Āśān thought that this was the kind of knowledge that could eradicate the tension and barriers among castes. That is, if everyone is in heaven, we are all equal. Āśān’s different forms of bhakti represent the intellectual, as well as the emotional bhakti. That is, devotional and philosophical paths are not exclusive as expressed in The Bhagavat Gītā and the Bhāgavata Purāṇa. Āśān replace characters function at a divine level and at a human level. This duality in a single character makes his message of oneness and freedom more significant. For example, Āśān imagines the fallen flower as a symbol of death and of life, as well as a beloved. However, when he considers the flower to be his beloved, he represents the union between the sun (Divākaran) and the lotus (Naḷini), which affirms the union expressed in Naḷini, the union of the deity and the devotee. Āśān’s use of the flower as a symbol of personal adornment, in sacrifice, and as gifts is similar to the use of flowers during pūjā, worship. For example, In her suffering, her life begins to dwindle, Consumed by her intense meditation;

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Poetics of reform Like a beautiful flower, she draws everyone, Like a beautiful flower offered to God. (Naḷini, 27)

More important, the flowers refer to death and immortality, as depicted in the following: Heavy yet tender as a garland of flowers, Her heart beat stopped, her body became cold – As he held her he knew she had entered neither sleep nor dream nor meditation. (Naḷini, 148) “Naḷini, Naḷini,” she called, with a sad heart. As a priest removes a decayed garland from the idol in the temple, so she took away the tender body, still clinging to the yogi’s bosom. (Naḷini, 168) Āśān makes sense and perception integral in his other poems, as well as in Naḷini. He portrays the union of eyes and hands between Naḷini and Divākaran. Looking and touching are essential elements of devotion. As A. K. Ramanujan suggests that bhakti is contact: the devotee’s heart or hand touches not only the feet of God but God’s entire body as well (Ramanujan 1981). This sense of perception has to do with all five senses of the body as emphasized in Purāṇic theism. Āśān’s poems personify bhakti in different human forms, vātsalya, dāsya, mādhurya, and sakhya, expressing the love of God and of humans. The human experience embodies bhakti. Āśān addresses social issues based on the various forms of bhakti, which personified union at different levels. On one hand, these forms of bhakti stress attachment in love, whereas, on the other hand, it seeks freedom of individual depicted through the language of freedom from the world. These poems personify the union of paradoxes transcending boundaries and serve as a nexus for divine and human encounter, seeking spiritual and social transformation. Evolving from bhakti of God, Āśān’s concept of snēham finds content and impetus in the themes of bhakti (as discussed in Chapters 1 and 4), exemplifying them to be not just feelings but deep relationships involving a “network of relationships” (Orsi 2005) between divine and human and among humans. One of the key themes in the Naḷini is devotion at God’s or Guru’s feet, be it Divākaran, the male ascetic, or the female ascetic. This deep devotion involves perceiving the Lord or Guru as the compassionate one, the source of life and knowledge. The relationship between the devotee and the deity, or the relationship between the disciple and the teacher, is a nurturing and loving one, hence it can be understood as vātsalya. Vātsalya in Malayalam means to love or nurture. It is a parental love. Vātsalya is exemplified in the Indian gurukul system as the love between a guru and his disciple. Vātsalya bhakti implies total surrender and love between student and teacher; it is love that nourishes, disciplines, and teaches the way of knowledge. Vātsalya bhakti became a true experience when he was a

Poetics of reform 85 disciple of Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru. Alongside vātsalya, one can see expressions of dāsya. Service at a guru’s feet was considered service to God and an essential way to knowledge and grace. In other words, surrender and obedience were a path to enlightenment. Throughout Naḷini, Āśān uses being at God’s feet or the ascetic’s feet as the brush to paint this form of bhakti. For example, As her dreams fail her and the flower of her heart shrivels, She thinks more and more of God. To overcome her suffering in this world, she goes to serve at God’s feet. (Naḷini, 28) Her mind unsteady, unsettled in its meditation, Even at God’s lotus feet, She pauses, draws into herself, as a river suddenly stops flowing in summer. (Naḷini, 31) She said: “O Bhagavān, I bow low at your feet, seeking your compassion. I am your servant, prostrate at your feet, like the smallest branch, soft and golden.” (Naḷini, 47) There she bows, satisfied. Her tangled hair Lies like sheaves at his feet. Quiet, she turns her mind towards her actions, as she ought to do. (Naḷini, 48) He too is lost in thought for a while. He blesses her again. Then, suddenly, He gestures to distances himself from her and asks her to stand up. (Naḷini, 49) Slowly, for she is frail, She obeys his command, Rises, and finally stands, But oh! with what difficulty. (Naḷini, 50) She draped the garment that had fallen down; respectfully, she touched his feet and smeared the dust from his feet on her head. Then, she stood aside, gazing at the hermit. (Naḷini, 51)

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Later in the poem, in her grief, she surrenders at the Lord’s feet: “O Girija, you remain on this earth, bless the love of my life. Tangled in grief, I surrender to death, Devī, take me to your feet, O Ambika.” (Naḷini, 101) In verses 129–134, when Divākaran, the ascetic is walking away, Naḷini weeps and pleads, addressing him as the “Source of life” and “compassionate one”: “O Source of Life, I am pleading with you, take me, in your compassion! Like a small fish caught in ebbing waters of an embankment, I am losing my life.” (Naḷini, 129) As a female swan stops the swaying of the lotus in the wind, she flies weeping toward him, falls before him, holding fast to his feet. (Naḷini, 130) “All the wealth I have is you alone, you are my life, my joy, my salvation. My Lord, your lotus feet secure and steady me. If you leave me, I no longer exist. (Naḷini, 131) My passionate words sprang from desire. They are wrong; but, compassionate one, though I, your servant, have no courage, do not forbid me; humbly to serve forever at your feet.” (Naḷini, 132) Alas! Her burning tears bathed his feet, And he turned back to her. who can escape the gift, the labor of pure love? (Naḷini, 133) “My friend, I am full of compassion for you. Naḷini, do not weep and consume yourself in such sorrow. Do not lose yourself like an ignorant one, Uselessly, in a sea of grief. . . .” (Naḷini, 134)

Poetics of reform 87 Naḷini seeks compassion and grace from Divākaran, the male ascetic, and later the female ascetic. For example, while referring to Divākaran ascetic, He fears no one on earth, He is a fountain of compassion for all; His courageous face, Shows that he is prepared for anything. (Naḷini, 3) “Only a glance at her and he melts away, The ascetic, the fountain of compassion – Indeed! Who is this woman, her body slender as a moonbeam?” (Naḷini, 43) She had said her whole heart, Beautiful, she stood there in her sadness, Looking with devotion at his lotus face. And with compassion, he answered her (Naḷini, 78) He listened to her, heart filled with compassion and wonder. He listened deeply to her. Sobbing now, she went on: (Naḷini, 96) While she is attempting suicide, the yogini, a female ascetic, rescues her and nurtures her with compassion, and Naḷini becomes fearless. She smiled at me then, so lovingly, and sensing her compassion, I lost all my fear. So beautiful! She stood against the rising moon. (Naḷini,105) With her blessing, I lived as a hermit, and she taught me generously, as rain pours down on a tiny sprout, so, the divine yogini gave me her wisdom. (Naḷini, 112) Apart from these direct references to being nurtured at the feet of God, Guru, or yogini, two other instances portray parental love. For example, in verse 154, when

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Naḷini dies in Divākaran’s arms. He realizes the analogy of a child in its mother’s embrace, an act of total surrender: But I was full of sorrow, Though my father tried to restore me, As from the well the farmer waters The first rice sprig in summer. (Naḷini, 91) As a child comes lovingly to her mother’s bosom to sleep, you came to me; was I heartless to refuse you, O beloved? (Naḷini, 154) The expression of sitting at God’s or Guru’s feet and that place being a place of refuge, union, knowledge, liberation echoes bhakti motifs, as discussed in the previous chapter. This liberation was dependent on self-consciousness developed from being at God’s or Guru’s feet, a source of knowledge through union. Āśān considers Śiva to be the source of absolute knowledge and deploys this motif in this poem. At the feet of God, meaning complete surrender, or prāpatti, a central act of bhakti consists of five components: the intention of submitting to the Lord, the giving up of resistance to the Lord, the belief in the protection of the Lord, the prayer that the Lord may save his devotees, and the consciousness of utter helplessness (Klostermaier 1989:229). In the Tamil Śrī Vaiṣṇava tradition, the Āḻvārs in their constant recollection of Viṣṇu’s redemptive acts, their devotion becomes apparent and their salvation is proclaimed (Narayanan 1987). Many of Āśān’s poems as discussed in the previous chapter use the metaphor of taking refuge at God’s feet or falling at the feet of the divine as a way to embody the theology of bhakti as expressed in the Bhāgavata Purāṇa and the South Indian devotional poems. The figure of the guru becomes the mediator between God and devotee, reflecting Āśān’s relationship with Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru. Āśān was the first to apotheosize Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru. Guru worship played a pivotal role in other bhakti contexts – directly or indirectly through the guru figure – where worshiping the Lord and his local forms (Ramanujan 1981). According to the Śaiva Siddhānta, God appears in a bodily form as the Guru out of his great love for humans to save them from samsāra (Klostermaier 1989). An example of such devotion toward Guru is seen in Nijānandavilāsam, verse 3: I give respect to Guru’s words, as waves of ambrosia; With hands as the kalpaka6 tree branch, [He] sweetly caresses and blesses me, Mixed with dexterity, he embraces me; Brings complete destruction to māyā; Kisses me on my head, with extreme love, And teaches me the knowledge of the advaita.

Poetics of reform 89 Like a child, the disciple surrenders to the embrace and to the care of the guru. The disciple attains knowledge in the loving exchange that takes place between the guru and the disciple. The words of Guru taste sweet as the ambrosia that is the elixir of life, which implies that the words of Guru lead to knowledge and life in its fullness, and eventually to liberation from ignorance. In such divine union, where the self and Self become one, there exists no difference between the “I” and the “Thou,” a state of tat tvam asi. Here, the notion of “self ” and “the other” can be brought into question, as they are part of the same “whole.” As Jonathan Z. Smith contends, “even in theological discourse and imagination, where the notion of the ‘totally Other’ is most strongly maintained, the distinction can never be held to be absolute” (Smith 2004:251–302). Despite “othering” in society, othering can never totally happen as love is the essence of the universe, as there is no difference between the “self” and “the other”. This knowledge of selfhood at the personal level leads to extrication from the bondage of karma, the cycle of rebirth, and at the social level leads to extrication from the bondage of the caste system, where untouchability and unapproachability were practiced. Separation and union, as discussed in the previous chapter on bhakti as devotion, find their way in Āśān’s Naḷini. Union is the goal and is represented in both sensual and spiritual ways. The ultimate aim remains to achieve union and bliss. Love of humans emanates from a love of God that imparts knowledge of selfhood. This makes love transformative. Throughout the poem, Āśān employs a lyrical technique to create an aesthetic mood of śṛṅgāra rasa, erotic flavor, to express the intimate power of divine love. This rasa includes modes of separation, or vipralambha śṛṅgāra, and union, or saṁbhoga śṛṅgāra. The mode of union expressed in the climax is salvific. These moods of love are present in most of the lyrics of Bengal Vaiṣṇavas. Lovers in separation and lovers in enjoyment in union are inseparable because separation is latent in union and union is latent in separation, as death is latent in life (Dimock 1967). The bliss guarantees knowledge and liberation from this cycle of rebirth. Verses 16 onward illustrate Naḷini’s separation and her longing to unite with Divākaran, the ascetic, when finally, she unites in verse 43. She ritually stands beside the pond to get her wishes fulfilled, In her wet clothing, stands showing her body, beautiful as the dawn. (Naḷini, 16) They did not see each other – The trees directly hide them – But their minds are full of wonder and confusion. Indeed! They are remembering their previous bond. (Naḷini, 17) Although she is weak from waiting, yet the cold vanishes;

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Poetics of reform Although the red sun’s rays caress her face, yet her cheeks become pale. (Naḷini, 18) The gorgeous woman has lost her hope in love, yet in her memory, she still holds it fast, Suddenly she startles, as a small vine, its flowers fading, Falling from a nearby tree. (Naḷini, 19) Her endless suffering overwhelms her, But, as tenderly as a fish nibbles the lotus flower’s stem, Something makes her left-hand quiver. Is it possible she will have good luck? (Naḷini, 20) Why does she, the young woman meditating here, All at once become tremulous in her thoughts? Who knows the mind of a chaste woman! (Naḷini, 21) “Only a glance at her and he melts away, The ascetic, the fountain of compassion – Indeed! Who is this woman, her body slender as a moonbeam?” (Naḷini, 43)

In the meeting, she suddenly recollects their childhood memories and displays love in union, declaring that her time of agony and pain has ended: But she remembers everything In a breath she swiftly controls her passion, the pure bodied one. Her concern is great, and she speaks with fright. (Naḷini, 56) “Indeed! My time of travail is over, as fate takes format; O Great One, I who look on you now, I am the same ‘Naḷini,’ whom you loved in the past. (Naḷini, 57) Weeping, I was living my days yearning to see you again;

Poetics of reform 91 as a devotee desires, God to fulfill wishes. (Naḷini, 58) As a hermit I meditated on you, Now, suddenly, seeing you, I am blessed, whether or not you remember me.” (Naḷini, 59) With these words, her tears rolled down, And she stood speechless, Yet also like those affectionate ones, lost in joy. (Naḷini, 60) Although Naḷini has met Divākaran, she is scared of being separated from him again (Naḷini, 75). But when Divākaran, the ascetic, assures her that he holds no ill feelings, she gathers courage and sings like a cuckoo bird: “Bhagavan, when I stood near you, I forgot my sorrow, and more than that, I feel as close to you, as we used to feel at home. . . .” (Naḷini, 81) The subsequent verses display the love between the two during their younger days. The scene is reminiscent of mythologies of Śiva and Pārvatī in which they are pictured together as a pair of swans gliding over the minds of great sages as though over a lake.7 The wonderful childhood lessons You taught me, bright Āryan, I remember every word of them, Though it was so long ago. (Naḷini, 82) The lakes filled with lilies, the banks and footpaths and trees, the lawns – I remember them all, and our village school nearby. (Naḷini, 83) How vivid those days were! We watched – so intently –

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Poetics of reform the butterflies floating by as we walked, hand in hand beside the sacred grove. (Naḷini, 84) We tried to sing the high-pitched song of the male cuckoo, and you, always the playful one, mocked the flirtatious bird. (Naḷini, 85) At noon recess, we raced to the shady trees, threw down our books on the ground, and went gathering the fragrant jasmine, then wove a garland to adorn my short hair. (Naḷini, 86) When we played counting games, you stole up Behind me and covered my eyes. When I was hurt, and cried out in pain, you wiped away my tears, full of compassion. . . .” (Naḷini, 87)

Later in the poem, even though the female ascetic rescued Naḷini and took her under her wing, Naḷini was still in agony of separation from Divākaran, the ascetic: Yet seeing the beauty of the forest without, the one close to heart; She was sad, as a heart broken in love enjoys nothing. (Naḷini, 110) In this verse, Naḷini ponders her lover coming and uniting just as Pārvatī unites with Śiva, the celibate one: In my mind that meditation repeatedly comes as a good feeling, just as the Gauri united with the celibate one, whose foe is the Cupid. (Naḷini, 116) Metaphorically, Āśān refers to Naḷini and Divākaran’s union. From verse 116 onward, there develops a union, and this union produces knowledge. With these words, she broke off, gazed On his face like one tired from long travel;

Poetics of reform 93 As though she set down a heavy load, She gazed at him and sighed. (Naḷini, 118) He understood her feelings. Without making this innocent one suffer, without losing the purity of his heart, He gazed at her and said: (Naḷini, 119) “I am full of wonder at your story! Caring for nothing else, with great courage You sought refuge in the forest, and your life has been blessed. (Naḷini, 120) Just talking to one another fills us with wonder – How we shared life in the village, Then separated, then we met again in the forest. and now we are seeking the same goal. (Naḷini, 121) Of all the innumerable creatures, each busy with its own doings, each of us is only a small particle traveling through the narrowest passage. (Naḷini, 123) We may be struck down with grief, but the spirit that loves in us continues to explore until, by God’s grace, the soul wakes from its great, sleep of ignorance. . . .” (Naḷini, 124) Āśān emphasizes the personal love between Nalini and Divākaran, but in verses 135 and 136, there is a shift toward the social implications of love. Divākaran asks her not to waste her love on him but, rather, to use it for the greater good as he emphasizes the essence of the entire universe is love or snēham. The verses read: How precious is this love in your heart? But do not waste it so on unblest mortals – You are only scattering flowers on corpses on the pyre. (Naḷini, 135)

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Poetics of reform Love is the essence of everything in the universe, nothing less than this essence of love is the only truth. The world’s touch entices, but O pure one, I renounce it for this deeper love. (Naḷini, 136)

Love becomes the foundation for everything, and the one who knows this truth enters eternal bliss, as seen from verses 138. In verses 139 through 152, Naḷini clings to Divākaran as she dies and attains bliss (Naḷini, 149). The image of death in the poem depicts union as total surrender and immersion in love. Āśān employs death to represent surrender to emphasize the highest state of consciousness for a devotee to achieve in immersion with the deity. It was through this surrender a devotee could “transform the soul from an intrinsically egocentric orientation to that of an utterly theocentric orientation” (Schweig 2005:372). Although Graham Schweig (2005) maintains that for a bhakta, devotee, death is renunciation from the world as they relinquish worldly connections, Āśān employs death to emphasize complete union between devotee and deity, as well as liberation. This notion of death and freedom also refers to social liberation as highlighted in the Malayalam novels written during the same period as mentioned earlier in the book (Menon 2006). More importantly, as I stated in the opening for this chapter, the notion of death is essential to understanding love and liberation in Āśān’s work. The notion of death and freedom is linked to “songs of reassurance, which transports to an imagined realm of color, taste, and limitless good” (Hawley 2015), and “aspiration for a better life, which was not merely located in the hereafter but also very much in the here and now” (Hardiman 1997). Hardiman’s words are important as they reinforce the pragmatic efficacy of devotional love between the devotee and deity at the social and political realms. Āśān’s poem of love presents a theology of love and liberation. Liberation from this life, becoming conscious of divine immanence and possessing an egalitarian vision by renouncing ego establishes harmony with others in the community as corroborated in the following verses. Enthralled, she gazed on his face, Glowing with truth, inspiring her ecstasy, Unexplainable, beyond all telling, the lasting foundation of this one great word. (Naḷini, 138) All her doubting gone, like one on a high place touched by cold wind, the righteous one stood shivering, as a rumbling cloud shivers the branches of the kadamba tree. (Naḷini, 139) Suffering filled and overflowed her heart, And her tired body began to fall

Poetics of reform 95 as a small vine falls down towards earth. The accomplished ascetic supported her with his hands. (Naḷini, 140) As waves calmly meet each other, their hands and bodies met, as a sound blends into a sweeter sound, as light blends into brighter light. (Naḷini, 141) Their bodies and their spirits fulfilled, they stood together completely one; the chaste woman tasted ultimate bliss, rare in this world. (Naḷini, 142) It is the same bliss she enjoyed all don’t enjoy, very few reach; bliss that banishes her regret or sadness, bliss that banishes her fear of losing it. (Naḷini, 143) Bliss that smiling, pours down tears, Like rain from the last cloud, His bosom wet from her tears, Still he is firm in heart, unmoved. (Naḷini, 144) With her breath, she whispered Ōṁ, the holy word, mystical essence of the Vedas – a bolt of lightning flashing and fading in the sky. (Naḷini, 145) Exhausted, she closed her eyes, unmoving, she leaned against his shoulder, like a flag clinging to its mast after the wind has died. (Naḷini, 146) Surprised, his heart melting within him, He lost his firm control and sighed deeply. Soft as silk her body clung to him, doubt filled the great ascetic’s heart. (Naḷini, 147)

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Poetics of reform Heavy yet tender as a garland of flowers, Her heart beat stopped, her body became cold – As he held her he knew she had entered neither sleep nor dream nor meditation. (Naḷini, 148) “What strangeness is this? What does this cold embrace mean? Alas! what path of action? The young one has made of my body her death bed! . . .” (Naḷini, 149) As a cockroach loses its body, she has left her body, her heart full of love. The great one has lost desire: she has left her beautiful body. (Naḷini, 150) Whoever knows the frail bonds we mortals have with life! Woman, despite your youth, you equal The ascetic in the wisdom of your heart! (Naḷini, 151) Like a flower that falls from its stalk, or the dew from the grass blade’s tip, I am sad, yet I envy your joy, in leaving your body. . . . (Naḷini, 152)

Naḷini as a devotee who has gained knowledge and lost doubt is figured as the kadamba tree in verse 139. It makes sense that the kadamba tree appears in this poem. The tree known as burflower tree in English is mentioned in Hindu mythologies. The kadamba tree is considered to house the Lord of youth, Śiva. A reference to kadamba tree as the abode of Śiva, the source of knowledge for Śaiva Siddhānta, is seen in the Tamil Śaiva poetry of Appar. In the body’s house Make a lamp of the heart. Pour right cognition as butter, Shape the wick that is the self, Light it with the fire Of supreme knowledge of the Lord. The vision of the anklet-adorned feet of the Lord, the father of the youth who is in the kaṭampu tree Will then be yours. (Appar, IV.75, 4; Peterson 1991:227)

Poetics of reform 97 In Naḷini 141 and 142, the union between Naḷini and Divākaran reiterates Nammālvār’s quiet moment of union with Kṛṣṇa: As ambrosia that never sates, he has mingled with my self that is nothing, my Lord Kannan . . . (Tiruvāymoli 2.5.5; Narayanan 2007:197) Who is my companion? Frightened, I search, sinking like a ship, In a stormy sea of life and death. Radiant and glorious, Bearing aloft his discus and conch, He comes and becomes one Even with me, his servant. (Tiruvāymoli 5.1.9; Narayanan 2007:197) In Naḷini, themes of oneness, union, and the blissful state that derives its concept from the nonduality of everything appear through different metaphors. For instance, the young bird flying down from the sky and looking at the world points to the oneness of everything. The depiction of the Himalayas meeting the sky, where the earth becomes one with the sky, also looks to represent oneness. The moments where Naḷini is depicted as being close to Divākaran, the ascetic as the source of knowledge, as well being close to the female ascetic represent union. Verses 160–165 articulates liberation from the bondage of karma. As an ascetic, I can experience no pain, and Now you too will no longer know sadness, O light of noble virtue, O beloved! Leaving this earth, you make it so pitiful. (Naḷini, 160) The white untied streams of her hair Clothe the earth in mourning; Earth’s sobbing from her caves, Now you can hear this lament. (Naḷini, 161) The sun stops still in the blue sky, the forest all stillness – Has the sudden force of your soul’s ascent stopped the wheel of time? (Naḷini, 162)

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Poetics of reform Surely, I am blessed, my friend, for I am your disciple. I have had no other teacher in the world since the day knowledge was first revealed. (Naḷini, 163) As I remember your story, so worthy of contemplation, My mind grows more deeply holy. O, full of knowledge! Even my disciplined body has become a holy place. (Naḷini, 164) “. . . Our way of action was the same, bringing joy and sorrow for a long time without any weakening to our dharma – O Pure one, you have passed over the path of action.” (Naḷini, 165)

In verse 163, after the death of Naḷini, the poet subverts the gendered expectation that only men could be ascetic and teachers. All this while, Naḷini was a disciple of Divākaran, the ascetic. Then, Āśān places Divākaran as a disciple of Naḷini. And while elaborating this gender reversal is beyond the scope of this project, it is important to notice such a significant reversal. Āśān’s move was certainly inspired by Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru, whose real-life reforms were geared toward women as well as men. The powerlessness depicted in Naḷini, as well as in his other poems, suggests that he used such language deliberately to express his deep desire to elevate the powerless. Experiencing powerlessness was a situation his characters often found themselves in, and Āśān’s readers – his women readers, in particular – would relate to these feelings and realities of powerlessness in their lives. In his characters who struggle with powerlessness, Āśān argues that his concept of oneness and egalitarianism was not only for the lower-caste members of the society but also for women of all castes as well. The concept of oneness appears in the union of man and woman as depicted between Divākaran and Naḷini and in union of the lotus and the sun. More importantly, the oneness comes through complete surrender at the feet or in the bosom of the lover. Naḷini addresses Divākaran out of respect as a deity, bhagavān, bhagavalpadam, and mahāmate; Divākaran addresses her as bhagani and vatsale. These names are ways to address a god. It is in such union of love between the deity and devotee that a devotee becomes “complete,” finds meaning, and finds an identity of self. Naḷini wanted an erotic union but now wants a divine union as a disciple of Divākaran. In verse 133, Āśān represents Divākaran not only as an ascetic but also a householder. Such symbolism finds a place in the temporary asceticism practiced by men who embark on Śabarimala pilgrimage, representing egalitarianism, though temporarily.8 Throughout the poem, the deep friendship between Divākaran, the ascetic, and Naḷini, can be read in the way Divākaran addresses Naḷini, as sakhi or tōzhi, both

Poetics of reform 99 meaning “friend.” When Naḷini dies and becomes equal to Divākaran, he addresses her as sakhi, meaning a friend of equal stature. Although Divākaran is knowledgeable, he refers to Naḷini as tōzhi, or friend, stating his deep love for Naḷini and marking her as his equal. Divākaran, as a friend, asks Naḷini to talk to him, and he assures her that by being useful to others, wise people become a blessing to themselves. This representation of equality falls in line with Āśān’s general themes of love and equality as the basis for liberation. Love emanates in the society only when everyone becomes a blessing to others around them. For example, “. . . My friend, what favor do you ask, to remember me and give me your answer? For wise ones, being useful to others, make their own lives blessed.” (Naḷini, 68) “My friend, I am full of compassion for you. Naḷini, do not weep and consume yourself in such sorrow. Do not lose yourself like an ignorant one, Uselessly, in a sea of grief. . . .” (Naḷini, 134) My friend, I will tell you a deep secret: “The one who knows this truth, receives eternal bliss.” Hearing his kindly words, she rose like a radiant lamp. (Naḷini, 137) Surely, I am blessed, my friend, for I am your disciple. I have had no other teacher in the world since the day knowledge was first revealed. (Naḷini, 163) Similar accounts of friendly love are seen between Rādha and Kṛṣṇa and Mīrābāī and Kṛṣṇa. Divākaran and Naḷini’s relationship signifies divine friendship. Āśān emphasizes the connection between human love and divine love. He paints love into all of his characters because he considers love as emancipatory; love between his characters symbolically embodies divine human love, which personifies emancipation from the cycle of rebirth in bhakti. The images of snēham reflect love between lovers, mādhuryam. In Malayalam, mādhuryam means one of the sāttvika (good) qualities of a lover (Padmanabhapillai 2004:1408). In a secular sense, mādhurya implies the erotic love of lovers, whereas in a religious sense, mādhurya means the union between devotee and deity. This spiritual union translated into human forms of love, namely, mādhuryam: the pure union of the beloved and the lover without lust. The depiction of union

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and bliss at the personal level imagines union and harmony at the social level as a natural next step. Āśān invites his reader to join the cause of good action: He lived in a faraway land doing good for the world. Neither sad thoughts of Naḷini nor sinful worldly thoughts troubled him, but ever more holy and calm he became, as a mirror keeps its brightness in the rays of the sun. (Naḷini, 172) After many years of fruitful action, he wonders – whether eternal good fortune will be his. More than he knows. He came to death – not bodily, but finally attaining bliss, Supreme in all experience. (Naḷini, 173) It is in this context, bhakti as devotion becomes bhakti as a movement toward social emancipation. It is bhakti dharma, that involves first person participation and must be embodied in everyday experience. The concept of love in Āśān’s Naḷini reinforces Purāṇic theism and the Tamil Śiva bhakti that represented the “Tamil Śaivas visions of the real in their own historical contexts, visions that constituted the embodiment of God and humanity alike” (Prentiss 1999). For Āśān, devotional love was essential to obtaining liberation at the spiritual and social levels. In Āśān’s poems, self-knowledge leads to social emancipation based on love. Devotional loving union with Śiva at the Lord’s feet allowed the devotee to receive Śiva’s grace and knowledge of self, and this personal devotional union becomes the crux of social and political union, also based on love. In other words, the notion of surrendering at the Lord’s feet and self-abnegation emphasized eliminating one’s self-ego and deploying the idea of equality envisioned his utopian community. As Chacko Valiaveetil claims, [t]he final liberation itself is described as the state of love. The jīvanmuktas are described as the ones whose lives are permeated with stainless love for the Lord. Having realized that God is love, they abide in God as love. In the union of love the jīvanmuktas are transformed into Śiva himself so that they are described as walking Śivas. The Siddhānta writers are fond of expressing this union of love in terms of mystical marriage. (Valiyaveetil 1996:231) The knowledge of the self at God’s feet had social implications. As Anantanand Rambachan explains the social implication of liberation, based on The Bhagavad Gītā 6.29 and the Īśa Upaniṣad 6–7, that “to know the self as brahman is to know oneself as the self of all because the self is not-two” (Rambachan 2015:79).9 As a poet of love, Āśān sent a message – a message of love calling for the transformation of the inhuman caste system that promoted othering. In order to achieve his purpose, he thought the best tool was snēham or love. The essence of the universe is love. As Āśān declares,

Poetics of reform 101 Love is the essence of everything in the universe, nothing less than this essence of love is the only truth. The world’s touch entices, but O pure one, I renounce it for this deeper love. (Naḷini, 136) Āśān emphasizes that love as an embodiment of God can be understood through consciousness that eventually can lead to bliss. Āśān’s concept of consciousness or knowledge, aṟivu, was stressed in Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru’s teachings. For Guru, aṟivu was the ultimate reality, and “this knowledge of the absolute self rises from ekāntika bhakti (focused devotion), which results in satcitānanda (being-consciousnesshappiness) and ventually mokṣa (liberation)” (Pati 2013).10 This knowledge had social implication for Guru and for Āśān as well. This bliss must translate at all levels, from spiritual to social. Āśān defined bliss as freedom – not only spiritual or individual freedom but also social and corporate freedom. It is important to note that Āśān’s concept of love in the poem represents all the three chief forms of love, as in the case of Mahādēviyakka, the Vīraśaiva poet-saint, “forbidden love, love in separation, and love in union, often one attitude informing and complicating another in the same poem” (Ramanujan 1973:113). Perhaps his readers could not appreciate these forms of love as a transmuted form of devotional love, īśvarabhakti. The means to eradicate the caste system was embedded in Āśān’s concept of love of God and the human expressions described in the previous section. The themes of bhakti are salvific in content and in meaning. Āśān deployed bhakti to attack the caste system because he believed snēham, love could lead to union and peace/bliss as depicted in Naḷini. There is soteriology functioning in his poem of love, and this love is transformative and transgressive in colonial Kerala. Love transcended the created self and the merging with the Self and self, facilitating the merge with the “Other;” it is this all-inclusive love that is transformative. It is a network of relationship that blurs the boundaries between the divine and the human, and among humans. Based on the Advaita, Rambachan (2015) suggests that consciousness, caitanyameva, is the very nature of the self, ātmā, and identical in all beings, and that caste is rooted in ignorance, avidya. Here, one can see the connection between religion, poetry and social reality and the relevance of Āśān’s poetic expressions. Toward the turn of the century, Kerala society, religion, and literature were going through a time of “pride of exclusiveness” (Ravindran 1988:59). In response, Āśān began his project of an intellectual awakening to enhance social consciousness and “inclusiveness” based on the theme of love. Here, Āśān’s theme of bhakti as devotion gains universal power as bhakti as a movement enters into a much larger social discourse. His total, open rejection of the caste system in Duravasta (1922) and Candālabhikṣuki (1922) parallels the refutation of the caste system by the Tamil Śaiva saints, who emphasized the sociopolitical dimension of bhakti as a denial of the message of the caste system and all caste prejudice (Zvelebil 1973:193–4). The overarching theme of taking refuge under the patronage of Guru or at the feet of God, or especially in the bosom of Divākaran, refers to the union between God and human – an exchange and a blending that quintessentially stresses that the self and “the other” are the same. As Smith argues,

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“even in theological discourse and imagination, where the notion of the “totally Other” is the most strongly maintained, the distinction can never be held to be absolute” (Smith 2004:241). The “Other” does not exist; there is only one/same. This idea of oneness/sameness was essential to his theme of love and inclusion. Āśān questions the alienating practices of untouchability and unapproachability in the Kerala society through some of his other poems, as well. For example, are we not one, oh flower, of the self-same blood; Are we not made by the same hand? (Vīṇapūvu, 1907, 32) Whatever we think, or whatever we say? O Prince! Caste is a bug! (Candālabhikṣuki, 1922, IV. 195) Is there caste in his blood, his bone, his marrow? Is the Candāli’s body infertile for the Brahmin’s seed? (Candālabhikṣuki, 1922, IV. 200) Alas! O Prince, all creatures are brothers, And if we ponder on it, they are same. (Candālabhikṣuki, 1922, IV. 224) Think, then, what difference between man and man? (Candālabhikṣuki, 1922, IV. 225) Remove the customs by self, Otherwise, they will remove you. (Duravasta, 1922, 841) In Candālabhikṣuki, Āśān through his protagonist Buddha questioned whether caste was in blood, bone, and marrow, clarified that caste stratification was created in the mind. Additionally, in Duravasta Sāvitrī, a daughter of a Nambūtiri (highcaste) household, received shelter from a Pulayā (outcaste) and how they were united in love, transcending caste boundaries. In other words, snēham in Āśān’s Naḷini communicates a theology formulated through love of God and human experience emphasizing inclusiveness. Love remains paramount in his utopian vision of the community as he affirms in Candālabhikṣuki, 1922, IV, 308–311: The world emerges through love – in love seeks prosperity; (Candālabhikṣuki, 1922, IV, 308) Love is the energy in the world – love, alone increases joy; (Candālabhikṣuki, 1922, IV, 309)

Poetics of reform 103 Love is life, O fortunate one – love defeats death; (Candālabhikṣuki, 1922, IV, 310) Love in the earthly island – dexterously creates heavenly abode. (Candālabhikṣuki, 1922, IV, 311) Similar themes of embracing “the other” were articulated by the medieval bhakti poet, Kabīr, as he states: They’re morons and mindless fools Who don’t know Ram in every breath. . . . Pandits read Puranas, Vedas, Mullas learn Muhammed’s faith. Kabir says, both go straight to hell If they don’t know Ram in every breath. (Hess and Singh 2002:69) And one of Āśān’s contemporary, Rabindranath Tagore, powerfully writes in Gitanjali (1914): Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads! Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut? Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee! He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the pathmaker is breaking stones. He is with them in sun and in shower, and his garment is covered with dust. Put off thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil! . . . Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense! What harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and stained? Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow. (Tagore, 1914) It is the network of relationship, divine, and human, which gives content and meaning to his theology of snēham, love. Love that blurs caste boundaries and that which suspends binary dichotimization of the self and the other. Āśān envisions this love to transpire in the society as he imagines a utopian community here and now. Snēham, a recurring theme of Āśān’s poetry and his theme of love is considered to be a new movement in the sphere of Malayalam poetry. He is classified as a Romantic poet, but his concept of love was embedded in the religious devotional classical texts of The Bhagavad Gītā and the Bhāgavata Purāṇa and the bhakti movements of India. The value of individual liberty, primacy of self, and

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egalitarianism was expressed through the language of love present in bhakti as devotion toward a deity. This love appears as an internal force, presented through love between lovers and beloved. Snēham is bhakti, and bhakti as a movement reinforces the significance of religion in the modern period. In delineating Āśān’s poem, Naḷini, through the lens of bhakti, I have demonstrated that Āśān was allowing bhakti to play a pragmatic role in the broader social context of colonial Kerala. Employing bhakti in this way was new. Snēham or love was the crux of liberation from the bondage of caste and subjugation; it was an urgent message to address social injustice based on caste and gender. Love at the person level meant bhakti as devotion, and at the social level, bhakti meant love of others, the highest goal of life that guarantees liberation from caste bondage. Love becomes primary for the transformation of the self and society. The central ideal of Āśān’s lyric poem, Naḷini, or Oru Snēham, is the utopian vision of a unified community based on bhakti theology, and in this sense, it is a song of love and a song of reform.

Notes 1 See Dhavamony (1971) for a discussion of anpu, which can imply sexual or asexual love. Dhavamony draws a distinction between “aṉpu, love of God, and kātal, love between man and woman. Indira Peterson (1991:36) asserts that “bhakti connotes not only ‘devotion’ in the sense of reverence, attachment, and loyalty, but also in love including aṉpu and kātal in all its dimension.” 2 For an explanation of the landscapes refer to Vasudha Narayanan, “With the Earth as Lamp and the Sun as the Flame”: Lighting Devotion in South India. International Journal of Hindu Studies, 11, 3 (2007): 227–53; A. K. Ramanujan, Poems of Love and War (New York: Columbia University Press, 1985); Indira V. Peterson, Poems to Śiva: The Hymns of the Tamil Saints (New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1991); George L. Hart, The Poems of Ancient Tamil (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975); and Dimock, Edward C. Jr., Edwin Gerow, C. M. Naim, A. K. Ramanujan, Gordon Roadarmel, and J. A. B. van Buitenen. Eds. The Literatures of India: An Introduction (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1974). 3 Cuckoo bird (kuyil) plays a significant role as it carries a message to the Lord of Veṅkaṭam as well as brings his message back, and it has the endurance to fly great distances and treacherous paths. See Archana Venkatesan, The Secret Garland: Āṇṭāḷ’s Tiruppāvai and Nācciyār Tirumoli (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010), p. 201. 4 “O unconquerable One! [Samsara] was conquered by You when You delivered the flawless techings of Bhāgavata-dharma. Those sages who are free of all desires and delight in their own ātman worship You for liberation” (Bryant 2017). 5 “. . . spiritual enlightment, dispassion and devotion, . . . gets liberated” (Goswami 2014). 6 Kalpaka is believed to be the celestial tree that grants all wishes. 7 W. Norman Brown, Saundaryalaharī (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1958) verse 38: “Subsisting only on honey from wisdom as though it were an opening lotus, that pair of hamsas [Śiva and Devī] I worship, as they glide over the minds of the great ones [as though over Lake Manasa]; from their ululations evolve the eighteen sciences; they separate all the valuable from the worthless as milk from water.” 8 For a discussion of the pilgrimage see George Pati, Nambūtiris and Ayyappan Devotees in Kerala. In P. Pratap Kumar, ed., Contemporary Hinduism (London: Routledge, 2014), pp. 204–16. 9 The Bhagavad Gītā, 6.29: The liberated sees the self as abiding in all beings and all beings in the self, and sees the supreme self everywhere (Rambachan 2015:79); Īśa

Poetics of reform 105 Upaniṣad, 6–7: one who sees all beings in the self alone and the self in all beings, feel no hatred by virtue of that understanding. For the seer of oneness, who knows all beings to be the self, where is delusion and sorrow? (Rambachan 2015:79). 10 In Bhakti Darśanam 1, Guru states: bhaktir ātmānusandhānam ātmā‘nanda ghano yataḥ ātmānam anusandhatte sadaivātmavid ātmanā Bhakti is meditation into oneself for happiness is the content of self Self-knower meditatively seeks into oneself with oneself as means. (Pati 2013)

References Aravindakshan, N. (1999). The Literary Tradition of Kerala. In P. J. Cherian, ed. Essays on the Cultural Formation of Kerala, Vol. 4.2. Thiruvananthapuram: Kerala State Gazetteer. Brown, William Norman. (1958). Saundaryalaharī. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Bryant, Edwin F. (2017). Bhakti Yoga: Tales and Teachings from the Bhāgavata Purāṇa. New York: North Point Press. Burrow, Thomas and Emeneau, M. B., eds. (1961). A Dravidian Etymological Dictionary. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Carman, John B. (1987). Bhakti. In Mircea Eliade, ed., The Encyclopedia of Religion, Vol. 2. New York: Macmillan. Cutler, Norman. (1987). Songs of Experience. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Dhavamony, Mariasusai. (1971). Love of God: According to Śaiva Siddhānta. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Dimock, Edward C. and Levertov, Denis. (1967). In Praise of Krishna: Songs from Bengali. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Dimock, Edward C. Jr., Gerow, E., Naim, C. M., Ramanujan, A. K., Roadarmel, G., and van Buitenen, J. A. B. (1974). The Literatures of India: An Introduction. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press. Gerow, Edwin. (1974). Lyric Poem. In Edward Dimock, ed. The Literatures of India: An Introduction. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 147–52. Goswami, C. L. (2014). Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa. Gorakhpur: Gita Press. Hardiman, David. (1997). Origins and Transformations of the Devi. In Ranajit Guha, ed. Subaltern Studies, 1986–1995. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Hardy, Friedhelm. (1983). Viraha-Bhakti: The Early History of Kṛṣṇa Devotion in South India. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Hart, George L. (1975). The Poems of Ancient Tamil. Berkeley: University of California Press. Hawley, John Stratton. (2015). A Storm of Songs: India and the Idea of the Bhakti Movement. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Hess, Linda and Shukdeo Singh. (2002). The Bijak of Kabir. New York: Oxford University Press. Jesudasan, C. and Jesudasan, Hephzibah. (1961). A History of Tamil Literature. Calcutta: YMCA Publishing House. Klostermaier, Klaus K. (1989). A Survey of Hinduism. Albany: State University of New York Press. Lorenzen, David N., ed. (1995). Bhakti Religion in North India: Community Identity and Political Action. Albany: State University of New York Press. Menon, Dilip. (2006). The Blindness of Insight: Essays Caste in Modern India. Pondicherry: Navayana Publications.

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Narayanan, Vasudha. (1987). The Way and the Goal: Expressions of Devotion in the Early Śrī Vaiṣṇava Tradition. Washington: Institute for Vaishnava Studies; and Harvard: Center for the Study of World Religions. Narayanan, Vasudha. (2007). Tamil Nadu: Weaving Garlands in Tamil: The Poetry of the Alvars. In Edwin F. Bryant, ed. Krishna: A Sourcebook. New York: Oxford University Press. pp. 187–204. Narayana Rao, Velcheru, Ramanujan, Attipat Krishnaswami, and Shulman, David. (1994). When God Is a Customer: Telugu Courtesan Songs by Ksterayya and Others. Berkeley: University of California Press. Orsi, Robert. (2005). Between Heaven and Earth: The Religious Worlds People Make and the Scholars who Study them. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Padmanabhapillai, Srikanteswaram G. (2004). Śabdatārāvali, 27th ed. Kottayam: Sahitya Pravarthaka Co-operative Society. Pati, George (2013). “Narayana Guru.” In Knut A. Jacobsen, ed., Brill’s Encyclopedia of Hinduism: Symbolism, Diaspora, Modern Issues. Vol. 5. Leiden: E. J. Brill. pp. 559–65. Pati, George. (2014). Nambūtiris and Ayyappan Devotees in Kerala. In P. Pratap Kumar, ed., Contemporary Hinduism. London: Routledge, pp. 204–16. Peterson, Indira V. (1991). Poems of Śiva: The Hymns of Tamil Saints. New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Pillai, K. C. Chandra Mohanan. (1992). Bhakti Movement in Malayalam Poetry. Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Kerala. Prentiss, Karen Pechilis. (1999). The Embodiment of Bhakti. New York: Oxford University Press. Rambachan, Anantanand. (2015). A Hindu Theology of Liberation: Not-Two is Not One. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press. Ramanujan, Attipat Krishnaswami. (1981). Hymns for Drowning. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Ramaswamy, Sumathi. (1997). Passions of the Tongue: Language Devotion in Tamil India, 1891–1970. Berkeley: University of California Press. Rawlinson, Andrew. (1987). Love and Meditation. In Karine Schomer and W. H. McLeod, ed., The Sants: Studies in a Devotional Tradition of India. Berkeley: Religious Studies Series. Ravindran, T. K. (1988). Asan as Social Reformer. In K. Ayyappa Paniker, ed. Kumaran Asan: The Man and the Poet. Trivandrum: Kumāran Āśān Memorial Committee. Schweig, Graham M. (2005). Dying the Good Death: The Transfigurative Power of Bhakti. In Anna S. King and John Brockington, eds., The Intimate Other: Love Divine in Indic Religions. Hyderabad: Orient Longman. Shulman, David. (2016). Tamil: A Biography. Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Smith, Jonathan Z. (2004). What a Difference A Difference Makes. In Jonathan Z. Smith, ed., Relating Religion: Essays in the Study of Religion. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Tagore, Rabindranath. (1914). Gitanjali. London: Macmillan and Co. Ltd. Valiyaveetil, Chacko. (1996). Living Liberation in Śaiva Siddhānta. In Andrew Fort and Particia Mumme, eds., Living Liberation in Hindu Thought. Albany: State University of New York Press. Venkatesan, Archana. (2010). The Secret Garland: Āṇṭāḷ’s Tiruppāvai and Nācciyār Tirumoli. New York: Oxford University Press. Zvelebil, Kamil. (1973). The Smile of Murugan on Tamil Literature of South India. Leiden: E. J. Brill.

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I began this volume by asking, Can Mahākavi Kumāran Āśān’s expression of love or snēham be considered an embodiment of bhakti that represents his efforts toward emancipation at the spiritual, political, and social levels? Can he be considered one of the poets of modern Kerala, one who epitomized bhakti as devotion and bhakti as a social movement? Does Āśān’s bhakti as devotion form the substratum for his bhakti as a movement for social change make him a poet who shapes bhakti religion in modern Kerala? The investigation in this book explored how Āśān employed a theme of love among humans during the modern period in Kerala that was grounded in the native bhakti understanding of love of the deity and how he transmuted the theme of love into a theology of bhakti in the modern period. The concept of snēham or love is contextual and contemporary in his allegorical use of love, weaving strands from Western Romantic and native devotional literary traditions. This establishes Āśān as a unique poet of his time, one who brought personal religious expression into the public sphere, inviting his audience to unite in the cause of transformative love. In this concluding chapter, I reprise and elaborate on Āśān’s vision of a utopian community based on the embodiment of bhakti and on “first person participation” (Prentiss 1999). His vision of love and form of bhakti religion in modern society was both similar and different than the medieval period. Put simply: Āśān’s lyric poem, Naḷini is a literary space blurring boundary between tradition and modernity. His devotional and lyric poems embody bhakti and reinforce bhakti to be fluid. As Prentiss explains, “it was this tension between the difference and sameness of embodiment in bhakti that appealed to various agents across India’s lands and history, giving bhakti a fluidity that made it, rather than any authoritative systematization of it, one of the most influential perspectives in Hinduism” (Prentiss 1999:41). Nonetheless, in his quest for liberation embodying bhakti, he was not only shaping religion from a subaltern perspective but also contributing to history. This book, Religious Devotion and the Poetics of Reform, emphasizes three aspects of modern Malayalam poetry that possess implications for the study of bhakti in Hinduism. First, the poet’s intention of radical love as a basis for a utopian community finds meaning in the embodiment of bhakti as personal devotion and

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bhakti as a social movement; second, Mahākavi Kumāran Āśān’s poems shaped bhakti religion as a movement in modern Kerala; and, finally, expressions of love can represent efforts toward emancipation at the spiritual, political, and social levels simultaneously. This way, the study extends Hawley’s (2015) argument that bhakti as a movement acknowledges the “uncomfortable alliance between songs of protest” and “songs of reassurance, which transport to an imagined realm of color, taste, and limitless good,”(Hawley 2015:340) and reinforces Pechilis’s (Prentiss 1999) accurate observation that bhakti is a “theology of embodiment” emphasizing “participation.” Through this book, I have challenged the reductionist reading of Āśān’s poems and highlighted that his poetic expressions considered in this volume were grounded in the traditional devotional attitude in Hinduism inviting his readers to embody love and liberation. His employing bhakti was reinforcing bhakti in modern Kerala and also subverting caste hierarchy. As (mentioned earlier in this volume) Partha Chatterjee claims, that religion shaped the ideology and provided ontology, epistemology, and a practical code of ethics (Chatterjee 1997:31). The colonial period in Kerala – particularly from 1873 to 1924 – formed a crucible for Āśān’s thought. Āśān’s thoughts and writings were inspired by the changes happening at the socioreligious and political levels that revealed tensions between tradition and modernity, independence movements, reform movements, and caste struggles. The struggles for liberation in the social, religious, and literary areas became the foundation for Āśān’s poetics of love and reform. In such a context, his spiritual experience inspired him to compose poems that embody love: love of God and love of humans. These poems, although romantic in some ways, embody the Indian concept of bhakti devotion and the social movement toward the liberation of the low caste. British imperial expansion possessed some aspects that to some extent turned beneficial for India. The empire encouraged the influx of Western ideas and reforms to Kerala, especially social and religious reforms. During colonial rule in Kerala, modern educational and other social reforms began. For instance, the introduction of the English education system, the redefinition of the marriage system, and the reconstruction of the household system gave birth to new ideas and reforms. The shift from feudalism to capitalism redefined the economic topography of Kerala, and initiated some land reforms. These reforms were beneficial for some who already enjoyed a privileged position, but for the most part, reforms were not beneficial due to rigid adherence to the caste system. The caste system subsumed the identity of a person into his or her position in the hierarchical system, which resulted in the othering of the Īzhava caste in Kerala. The principles of untouchability and approachability defined Kerala’s caste system. British reform redefined the caste system in Kerala. During the colonial period, the anti-caste struggle was both against the hierarchy and for individual dignified identity. The widely practiced caste system possessed ramifications in all aspects of Kerala life. For example, the low caste did not possess the rights to access public roads or to worship gods. Low-caste people were not given importance as human beings. The idea of pollution separated them from high-caste people. In other words, the low caste experienced an identity crisis, even in terms of their humanity.

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The division among people of different castes within Kerala society became the focus for Āśān as he developed into a visionary and a missionary for the emancipation of the low caste of which he was a member. His poems critique the caste system and gender dynamics. He emphasizes the encounter of the Self as the Other. Perhaps because of the advantages he experienced, being educated and being influenced by great leaders and mystical teachers of his time, he intended to create a consciousness of individual identity and establish a utopian community. Creating self-identity based on the advaita philosophy of oneness was important, but was only possible through snēham or love. Āśān valued bhakti as devotion and employed it as a social movement, joining a much larger social discourse of justice and unity. It is the embodiment of bhakti in the human experience and its soteriological significance that became the fulcrum for his social movement based on love. Changes that occurred in Malayalam language and literature reflected the community’s identity. The tension between tradition and modernity can be seen in the varying usage of language and employment of different genres, in the use of the Pāṭṭu or Maṇipravāḷam genres, and in the use of poetic devices. The Rhyme Controversy, for instance, gave rise to conflict within Malayalam literature. The influence of the Western literary genres – namely, the novel and the short story – brought a new wave of innovation to Malayalam literature. The publication of newspapers and education made accessible to everyone created new spaces for forming identities; this made language and literature available to all levels of Kerala society. The establishment of printing presses and the translation of Malayalam literature paved the way for a new movement in Kerala’s literary sphere. Āśān chose ideas from the West that supported his cause while affirming the traditional patterns and concepts of Kerala (and India as a whole). The renaissance movement of India, which began in Bengal, contributed to this effort. Āśān’s life took him to Calcutta for higher education and enabled him to understand the Indian renaissance movement. This exposure in Calcutta led him to create literature that incorporated the essence of the renaissance movement which sought to revive the good aspects of the Indian Hindu tradition while refuting its dehumanizing customary practices. Āśān’s poetic genius finds its meaning and impetus within a literary and social context. Language represented identity and to possess an identity meant possessing authority. Āśān’s poetics included both native bhakti traditions and Western motifs of realism, presenting his social experience and imagination, blurring boundaries, and establishing new categories through hybridity, all providing a space for subaltern agency. Āśān understood that in order to bring change to the social realm it was necessary to employ religion as a medium to transcend religious, social, and political barriers. Kerala’s social fabric (as well as India’s) was woven with threads of religious values and beliefs. Āśān possessed a strong personal devotion to the deity as demonstrated in Chapter 4. Liberation at the personal level was the impetus for his liberation at the social and political levels. Liberation can be achieved by selfconsciousness and this self-awareness transcended the distinction between god and humanity and between low castes and high castes.

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The poetics of devotion illustrated Āśān’s personal devotion to the deity, which he expressed through classical Sanskrit and South Indian bhakti tropes. Serving at a god’s lotus feet, bowing down and seeking a god’s grace and compassion, and themes of separation and longing to unite became central values in his soteriological scheme. This soteriological scheme was transmuted into poetics of reform as Āśān employed bhakti through his use of an allegory of love, snēham. Sameness at the personal and social level was the essential message of Āśān’s love poem. This sameness is best expressed by classical Sanskrit devotional texts and devotional poets, as well as in the union achieved in the love between lover and beloved. Āśān’s human expressions of love found meaning and content in his spiritual experience. This spiritual experience was represented in Āśān’s poems of romantic love where he speaks about pure love, or love without bodily pleasure, which was considered worldly. Love was pure and foundational to crossing boundaries. It was love of a god that transpired as love among humans, and it was in the embodiment of love in the daily human experiences of devotional love that found its pragmatic efficacy. Āśān imagined a utopian community created through love and wanted to reach the widest possible audience. His song of love and song of reform blurred the distinctions between divine and human, and between individual humans. He emphasized a “network of relationship” (Orsi 2005), in colonial Kerala through his modern poetry and shaped bhakti religion in modern Kerala. Through Āśān’s deployment of bhakti as devotion, bhakti as a social movement entered public discourse. But that does not mean that he rejected personal devotion to a deity. In fact, he stressed that personal devotion must not be privatized; instead, personal devotion must enter the public sphere. The personal devotion to a deity entering public space and embodying love in the society can be related to Āśān’s concept of love and liberation based on the knowledge of the transcendence and immanence of God as expressed in the Bhagavad Gītā 15.191 and 18.61–622 and the Bhāgavata Purāṇa 10.28.11,14–16.3 Barbara Holdrege maintains, “The ultimate goal of bhakti-yoga, according to the Bhāgavata Purāṇa, is to attain the transcendent abode of Kṛṣṇa as a permanent state of realization, reveling for all eternity in the bliss of Bhagavān” (Holdrege 2013:99). Such an understanding of divine transcendence and immanence and his study of Śaṅkarācārya’s advaita philosophy, which was later endorsed by Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru become pivotal for his utopian vision. As Anantanand Rambachan explains the social implication of liberation, based on the The Bhagavad Gītā 6.29 and the Īśa Upaniṣad 6–7, that to know the self as brahman is to know oneself as the self of all because the self is not-two (Rambachan 2015:79).4 This study of Āśān’s poetry pushes us to think of religion as an expression of collective experience, “an experience of Now, a way of being” (Ramanujan 1973). Here, Mahākavi Kumāran Āśān’s poem, Naḷini or Oru Snēham, an embodiment of bhakti, became crucial and contemporary in the modern period of Kerala as he invited his readers to translate personal devotional love toward the deity in the public sphere for the emancipation of those subjugated and dehumanized at social, religious, and political levels. In this way, Āśān’s poetry confirms Talal Asad’s (1993) claim that religion in the medieval period was quite different from that in

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modern society and that the constitution of the modern state required a redefinition of religion. Āśān’s idea of nation stemmed out from religion: a nation united in love at all levels. As Peter van der Veer has rightly pointed, “[i]n India the most important imaginings of the nation continue to be religious, not secular” (1994:22). Especially through his poem Naḷini, Āśān re-creates his personal devotion to a social movement based on the concept of snēham, love, and problematizes the polarizing categories of self/other, high/low castes, and subject/object. The realization of the sameness of the self and the other in loving union with God is liberative and transformative at the personal level and has social implications. The rasa of bliss expressed through śānta bhāva in the poem emphasizes the realization of mokṣa, liberation, here and now. The bhakti rasa’s soteriological significance is transformative. This transformative character lies in the transgressive nature of love. In other words, Āśān participates in bhakti and invites others to participate. After all, the embodiment of bhakti involves first-person participation—one of the primary meanings of the root verb in Sanskrit, bhaj, from which bhakti is derived. This idea of love and liberation shaped his imagined community. It is in the embodiment of bhakti that bhakti religion remains dynamic and contemporary. As Victor Turner states, “[r]eligion, like art, lives in so far as it is performed . . . for religion is not a cognitive system, a set of dogmas, alone, it is meaningful experience and experienced meaning” (2003:86). Āśān’s contextualization of bhakti religion in modern Kerala transcends time and space as he invites his readers to engage with and experience the embodiment of love that possesses the power to be transformative and transgressive in the public sphere.

Notes 1 “Son of Bharata, the one who is not confused recognizes me as the highest spirit; recognizing all, that one is devoted to me with fullness of being” (Patton 2008). 2 “Arjuna, the lord of all beings dwells in the place of the heart, and causes all beings to wander in illusion, as if following a great cosmic map. Son of Bharata, go, with your whole being, to that one refuge, and from that grace you will reach the eternal dwelling place, and the highest peace” (Patton 2008). 3 “Believing Him to be God (Himself ), they too thought with an eager mind, O Parīkṣit, “Would the supreme Lord were to translate us to His own (divine) realm as well as to His imperceptible (transcendent) state (known by the name of Brahma)! 14–16: “. . . Lord Śrī Hari revealed to the cowherds His own realm . . . they beheld the divine realm of Kṛṣṇa. . . .” (Goswami 2014). 4 Bhagavad Gita 6.29: “The liberated sees the self as abiding in all beings and all beings in the self, and sees the supreme self everywhere” (Rambachan 2015:79); Īśa Upaniṣad 6–7: “One who sees all beings in the self alone and the self in all beings, feel no hatred by virtue of that understanding. For the seer of oneness, who knows all beings to be the self, where is delusion and sorrow?” (Rambachan 2015:79).

References Asad, Talal. (1993). Genealogies of Religion. Baltimore: John Hopkins. Goswami, C. L. (2014). Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa. Gorakhpur: Gita Press.

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Hawley, John Stratton. (2015). A Storm of Songs: India and the Idea of the Bhakti Movement. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Holdrege, Barbara A. (2013). Sacred Geography: Vraja-Dhāman Krishna Embodied in Geogrpahic Place and Transcendent Space. In Ravi M. Gupta and Kenneth R. Valpey, eds. The Bhāgavata Purāṇa: Sacred Text and Living Tradition. New York: Columbia University Press. Patton, Laurie L. (2008). The Bhagavad Gita (trans.). New York: Penguin Books. Prentiss, Karen Pechilis. (1999). The Embodiment of Bhakti. New York: Oxford University Press. Ramanujan, Attipat Krishnaswami. (1973). Speaking of Siva. UK: Penguin Books. Rambachan, Anantanand. (2015). A Hindu Theology of Liberation: Not-Two is Not One. Albany: State University of New York Press. Turner, Victor. (2003). From Ritual to Theatre: The Human Seriousness of Play. New York: PAJ Publications. van der Veer, Peter. (1994). Religious Nationalism: Hindus and Muslims in India. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press.

Appendix 1 Transliterations of Malayalam poems

Anugrahaparamadaśakam 9. “śa” kārikkāmallō śaraṇamaṭayu- nnēḻaye manō- vikāraṁ cērttīṭuṁ piṇikaḷuṭalil- cceyka muṟayō? makārattilttaṅṅuṁ matidhara! jayi- kkennaniśami- prakāraṁ cŏllīṭānaruḷuka parā- nandapadamē! Bhaktavilāpam 1. ālamuṇṭaḻalupōle māyayil mālukŏṇṭu matiyuṁ mayaṅṅi ñān kālu tannu kaniyunnatennu nī vēlumēnti vilasunna daivamē 2. sthūlamō pŏruḷu sūkṣmadēhamō mūlamō muṭiviluḷḷatenniyē kālavaibhavamatilkkalarnneḻuṁ jālamō muruka! mūladaivamē! 3. prāṇanāyaka! bhavalpadāmbujaṁ kāṇumāṟu karutāte kaśmalan vīṇanāyi vaḷarunnuveṅkiluṁ kāṇi nī karuṇaceyka daivamē! 4. ēṇanērmiḻikaḷoṭu manmathan bāṇavaibhavameṭuttaṭikkiluṁ prāṇanuḷḷaḷavaṇaññiṭāte kaṇkoṇeāḻiññu kr̥ paceyka daivamē!

114 Appendix 1 5. āṇavakkaṭalilāḻumēḻa ñnēṇapāṇimakanenṟe tampurān vēṇameṅkilavanenneyāḷumennāṇuṟappumaṭimakku daivamē! 6. nīṟiṭunnu manatāril ninpadaṁ tēṟiṭunnatiśaktaneṅkiluṁ kūṟiṭunna tirumēniyenniyē vēṟenikkŏruvarilla daivamē! 7. nāṟumīyuṭalutanṟe mēniyil kēṟiyanpeāṭu kalarnnukeāḷḷumo coṟirannu cuṇakeṭṭu cīyumo kūṟaḻiññu vilasunna daivamē! 8. sūnavāṭiyileḻunna tennalē! pīnamā mayililēṟumomalē! mānamaṟṟa malamāya ceyyumī dīnamennu tulayunnu daivamē! 9. vānalarkkeāṭi kulacca korakaṁ tēneāliccu viriyunna vēḷayil svānamiṭṭaḷi muḻakki manamāy ñānirippatiniyennu daivamē 10. tīneṭuttini veṟukkumeṅkiluṁ vānaṭutta vaḻi kāṇumeṅkiluṁ koneṭuttu kuṭivaykkumeṅkiluṁ ñāneṭutta jani nannu daivamē! 11. paramāya ninṟe padapaṅkajattinippuṟamāyi ninnu pŏtiyunnu saṅkaṭaṁ; paṟayāvatalla palarōṭumōtiyālaṟiyāvatalla kaḷavalla daivamē!

Appendix 1 115 12. aṟiyāmiteākkeyaviṭattileṅkiluṁ paṟayātirippaḻakalla pāmaran; maṟanālumotiyaṟiyāte ninpadaṁ paṟavānumilla paricinnu daivamē! 13. oru vēla ceytu tiruvuḷḷamūṟumāṟŏru sampradāyamaṟiyāte pāpi ñān gurupādamennu kuṟiyāy ninaccatilpperumāṟumāṟu maruvunnu daivamē! 14. tirunīṟaṇiññu tirunāmamōti nintiruvēlakŏṇṭu divasaṁ kaḻiccu ñān sthiramāyirunnu tava pādapaṅkajaṁ maruvunnatennu mayilārnna daivamē! 15. maruvilpparanna mr̥ gatr̥ ṣṇikājalaṁ parukunnatinnu paṇiceytiṭāte ñān suralokabhogamatiluṁ veṟuttu ninnarikattilennu maruvunnu daivamē! 16. aṟiyātirunnataṟiyātaṟiññu ñānaṟivākumimpamaḻiyātaḻiññatil muṟiyāte niṣṭha muṟayāyuṟaccirunnuṟavāvatennu paṟayunnu daivamē! 17. tuṟayāy naṭannu tuṇayaṟṟu ninpadaṁ tuṟayāyaṟiññu tuḻayunnatŏkkeyuṁ kuṟiyāyuṇarnnu kaniyunna nīyinippuṟamē varunna varavennu daivamē! 18. ceṟutilla cittamatilampu nimpadaṁ puṟamē ninaccu pukaḻunnu pāpi ñān aṟivilla ceytatakhilaṁ peāṟuttu nī maṟutippeṭuttu kanivuḷḷa daivamē!

116 Appendix 1 19. suradindhu cūṭi vilasunna sundarattirumaliyāṟu tiraḷunna ninpadaṁ oru nēramuḷḷileāḻiyātirikkumāṟarumakkaṭākṣamaruḷīṭu daivamē! 20. paramillenikku paṟavānumāśrayaṁ paripāhi pāhi paramārt’tharūpamē! paritōṣamōṭu palavāṟumāḷumen “karuvā!yirunnu kaniyunna daivamē” Devīstotṛangal 1. mayatoradvaya viḷakkitininnu māyāvāyuprayogamatinālitaḷuṇṭu raṇṭu āyāsamaṟṟatuvaśāliniyappuṟattenpīyūṣavalli paramēśvariyettŏḻunnēn 2. ennambikē! karuṇaceyyukinikku ninṟe ponnambujattŏṭetirāya padaṅṅaḷen’yē an’yaṁ ninaykkukilorāśrayamilla dēvi! dhan’yatvamēki mayi tūkk tr̥ kkaṭākṣaṁ 3. pālŏtta bhūtitaṭavuṁ paramēśvaranṟe cēlŏtta mēniyatil ninṟe śarīravalli mālettiṭā vimalamāṁ hr̥ dayāmbarattin mēletti veṇmukil minniya minnal dēvi! 4. vākkinnumart’thamatinuṁ varadē! kalarnnu cērkkunnu śobhayumaśobhayumŏkkeyuṁ nī ārkkinnu ninneyakhilēśvari! vāḻttīṭāvū ! vārkkunnu vismayavaśāliha kaṇṇunīr ñān. 5. ninne stutippatinu ñān tuniyumpo ḻenṟe pinnil sphurikkumŏru mānasaśaktiyāyuṁ ponnambikē! bhavati nilpatu kaṇṭu ninnu pinnentinnu paramēśvari ñānuḻannu.

Appendix 1 117 6. ākaśamāyumatilaṇḍaśataṅṅaḷāyuṁ vyākocamārnnumatha saṅkucitatvamārnnuṁ pokāte ninnu vilasuṁ punaruktaśakti lokaikanāyikayenikku tuṇaykkaṇaṁ nī. 7. māṟāteninna raviyuṁ matiyuṁ nabhas’sil vēṟāyiraṁ bhagaṇavuṁ mahiyuṁ varumpoḷ kūṟārnna ninṟe karavaibhavamorttumūkkilēṟāttatārkku viralīśvari! viśvanāthē! 8. cittatilorkkumatu vanpŏṭu khaṇḍayāyumettunnu nī jananī! pinneyakhaṇḍayāyuṁ nistulyayāṁ tava vibhūti ninaccukāṇkilatyadbhutaṁ dhr̥ vamitaṁ gajavairijāyē! 9. onniṅkalninnumŏrupo tumŏḻiññiṭāte ninnullasikkumŏru ninneyaṟiññu nityaṁ nandiccu nin mahima kaṇṭu namicciṭātta sandigd’dhatattvajanasantati keṭṭu dēvī! 10. ēkunnu nī jananiyenṟeyabhīṣṭamellāmākunnavaṇṇamiha ñānaṟiyunnatellāṁ śokaṁ tathāpi vaḷarunnathavā cuḻannupokunnŏrījjananavāhiniyēvamallo. 11. mātāvutanṟe makanāya kr̥ tajñanuṁ śrīmodāl kŏṭukkumatupole kr̥ taghnakannuṁ cētas’saliññu karayuṁ sutanuṇṭu pālennotunnu pinneyumumēyiha mātr̥ dharm’maṁ. 12. pratyēkamennilagajē,yaliyēṇameṅṅumettāte kaṇṭumuḻalunnavanallayo ñān! cittābhilāṣaminiyuṁ śubhamāyi nalki mattāpamokkeyumŏḻikkaṇamādi nāthē!

118 Appendix 1 13. aiśvaryadē! bhāvatitan kr̥ payorttiṭumpoḷāśvāsamāṇaṭiyanētaḻalettiyāluṁ viśvasamārnnadahr̥ dayē vilasīṭumenṟe viśālayeekajananī! jananī! tuṇaykka. 14. tiyyāṟiliṅṅane kiṭannu tapikkumenṟe mēyyāṟumāṟumayi nī karuṇākaṭākṣaṁ peyyāṟumāy varika nin padasēva ceyvān tayyāṟumāy varika dēvi! dinē ñān. 15. anpoṭu ninṟe padāśrayamennaṇaññu vempīṭumī vidhi hatāśayanākumennil van prēmamārnnu varamekuvatinni dēvī! nin bhāramenṟe nikhilēśvara sārvvabhemī! Nijānandavilāsam 3. mandārappŏṅkŏṭikkaimalar madhurameṭuttenne māniccu māyakkandāpāyaṁ bhavikkumpaṭiyuṭalpuṇaruṁ kaśalattil kalartti, mandābhāvānukampaṁ mama mukaḷil mukarnnūṟumadvaitasampatsandānan̄ ceyta sārāmr̥ talaharimŏḻikkētu ñānādarippū! Śivabhaktipañcakam 1. tvalpādacintanaṅṅaḷ dēva,yinikku yōgaśilpaṅṅaḷāy varika nin caritāmr̥ taṅṅa ḷ kalpaṅṅaḷāy varikayen karaṇēndriyaṅṅaḷ puṣpaṅṅaḷāy varika ninpadapūjaceyvān 2. atyantamadbhutamātāyaṟivuḷḷa lōkaṁ nityaṁ pukaḻttumŏru ninṟe kathāmr̥ taṅṅaḷ bad’dhādaraṁ bahu nukarnniniyennu śambhō! cittaṁ kuḷurttu cōriyunniha kaṇṇunīr ñān

Appendix 1 119 3. rudrākṣavuṁ rajatakānti kalarnna nīṟuṁ bhadraṁ dhariccu bhāvadālayapārśvamārnnu cidrūpa! nin caraṇasēvayilennu ninnu nidrādiyuṁ niśi maṟannu nayikkumī ñān 4. cinticcu ninṟe paṭamēṟeyaliññu cittaṁ ventēṟiṭunna virahārtti pōṟuttiṭāte antas’siṭiññu karayumpōḻutaśrudhāra cinti svayaṁ śiśiramāvatumēnninikk? 5. iddēhamindriyavumart’thavumēkamākkumuddāmamāyaṟiveḻunnaṟivuṁ veṭiññu advaitamāyŏḻukumampatilāḻnnaḻiññen ciddēvatē! ciramippatumennahō! ñān. Śivajñānpañcakam 1. collēṟumenṟe guru cittamaliññu conna collēṟeyāśayeāṭucinta tuṭarnnu śambhēā! allāteyuḷḷa maṟayēāṭanubhūtiyuṁ cērnnullāsamārnnuruki nilpatumēnnaho! ñjān. 2. uttuṅgamāmupaniṣattukaḷōtīṭunna tattvaṅṅaḷettaṭavakannanu cintaceytu cittaṁ veṭiññu śiva! bōdhamudippatennennuḷttāpamenneāḻiyu?mōtuka dēvadēva! 3. kāṇappeṭunnu viṣayaṅṅaḷ kalarnnuninnu kāṇunna kāḻcayatilāy kaṇavuṁ veṭiññu cēṇuṟṟa cidyutiyoṭuṁ Śiva! candrabimbaṁ kāṇunnu koumudi paranniniyennahō! ñjān. 4. kālaṁ kaṭannatha karuṅkaṭalinneḻunna kulaṁ kaṭannu guṇavāridhiyuṅkaṭannu pālamburāśiyatil muṅṅiyeḻunna ninṟe kālannu vannagati kāṇumahō mahēśa!

120 Appendix 1 5. khēdatte nīkkumeāru kemudipōleḻunna pādatteyuṁ parayeyuṁ paricilkkaṭannu bōdhatteyuṁ paṇayamiṭṭu bubhukṣayaṟṟu mēādattōṭennamr̥ tavāridhi muṅṅumō ñjān. Śivasurabhi 1. bhūtēśapādakamalappŏṭi kaiviṭāte cētōvicāramatu ceṟṟu piḻacciṭāte kātinnu cērnna kavanaṁ ‘karuṇā’pravāhamōthunna bhāratiyeyanpŏṭu kumpiṭunnēn. 2. vēdaṁ paṟaññu viramiccu viriññu bindunādaṁ kaṭannu nilaviṭṭu niṟaññu nityaṁ ētuṁ viḷakkiyetiraṟṟeriyunna divyajyōtirm’mayaṁ śivapadaṁ paṟāyāvatallē. 3. ādhāravēdikaḷilāṭiyalaññavarkkumādhāramāyakhilamāyavaśiṣṭamāyi bādhāntamāyi bahirantaramāy niṟañña bōdhāntamanamaviṭaṁ paṟāyāvatallē 4. kūṟāyirunnu kuśalaṁ kutukaṁ peṟuṁ tēnāṟāyatāyatahamennumanan’yamāyi māṟāteḻunna mahimāvine māṟininnu vēṟāyeṭuttu veḷiyil paṟāyāvatallē 5. uṇmanamōṭiyuṇarunnurukunnu cittaṁ vim’munnu vāṇi bahuvēpathuvāyiṭunnu kaṇmūlavāri kaviyunnatumūlamenṟe janmāpahappŏruḷineppaṟayāvatellē 6. ceṟṟillatinnu guṇamillŏru cihnamilla maṟṟŏnnumilla madhurāmr̥ tamamilla uṟṟuḷḷirunnavanuṇarnnuvarunna bōdhappaṟṟāṇatāṇitatināl paṟāyāvatallē.

Appendix 1 121 7. kṣudrānubhōgasulabhakṣudhayaṟṟu muṟṟuṁ bhadrānubhūti paranāṁ paramahansanennuṁ hr̥ ddrāvakaṁ himasudhāyitasārasaccinmudrārt’thamanamadhuraṁ paṟāyāvatallē 8. māṟittiriññu matimōhamiyanniṭātikkūṟŏtta kōmaḷasudhākarasāgarattil nīṟittaḷarnnu nilaviṭṭiniyenṟe neñcaṁ māṟitteḷiññaḻalakannu kalarnnukŏḷḷuṁ 9. entēnirakkumiṭamētumaṟiññiṭāteyentē ninakkiviṭe inniyumipramādaṁ pantē, paṟanna paṭupamparamākumenṟe cintē, ninakku ceṟutuṁ sukhamillayallō 10. santāpamāṇitu samastamatinnu sākṣālentāṇu ceyyumakhilēśananāmarūpan entāpameṅṅane kŏṭukkumaṭukkumenna cintāvaśēna ceṟutuṁ citaṟŏlla neñcē 11. santāpaśāntiyatinuṇṭu nivr̥ tti sarvvasantānasādhugati sādaramōtuvānāy antāgamattilupacāramuraykkilenṟe cintāmaṇikku śivanennŏru nāmamuṇṭ 12. vāṭātirunnu vaḷarunniva vārirakṣa kūṭāteyilla kuruvinmuḷapōleyeṅkil pāṭē bharippavanu talpara gaṅga pŏṅṅuṁ kōṭīramuṇṭu kuḷirtiṅkaḷumuṇṭu neñcē! 13. kāmādibhūtakaṭukaṣṭata kaiyakaṟṟuṁ prēmāvabōdhapadapaṅkajamennu kaṇṭāl pūmāsabandhupŏriyuṁ pukayaṟṟa puṇyabhrūmad’dhyalōcanavibhūtiyumuṇṭu neñcē!

122 Appendix 1 14. pullādiyāya bhuvanattinu puṣpapanmārallāteyilla gatiyakṣikaḷpōleyeṅkil ellāmudiccu vilasiccaḻiyātevannu cŏllārnniṭuṁ miḻikaḷ cŏnnavarāṇu neñcē! 15. tēnēkabandhu sakalattinumennamūlaṁ dīnāvanaikadayanīya kaṭākṣamuṇṭ jñānōdayattinu janattineḻunna vēdattēnūṟiṭunna tiruvāymalaruṇṭu neñcē! 16. prāṇapramāṇaparaśakti rājōvilāsaṁ kāṇiccu kaṇṭatinu karaṇamākayāle māṇikyamad’dhyamadhurādharamuṇṭatinṟe kōṇil kuṟaccu kutukasmitamuṇṭu neñcē! 17. Ī bhatikadhvaniyilindriyasākṣiyāyuṁ mē bhāratikkiha manōgatimārggamāyuṁ ābhāsurāṅganakhilēśanavannu tānē śōbhiccŏraśrutipuṭaṅṅaḷumuṇṭu neñcē! 18. āḷunnatinumaparādhamaśippatinnumāḷalla maṟaṟaparanennaṟiyunnuvennāl kāḷuṁ kaṭuṅgaraḷakāḷakaḷāyakānti kāḷuṁ kr̥ pākalitakaṇṭhakaḷambamuṇṭ 19. cintāvr̥ ticcikuranīlimakōlumādisantānavalliyuṭe santatasandhimulaṁ entātaneṅṅumetiraṟeṟariyunna pāticcentamaracchavikalarnna śarīramuṇṭ. 20. tuḷḷuṁ manomr̥ gamaṇattu tamovanattinuḷḷil kaḷikkukilapāyabhayaṁ bhavikkil uḷḷaṅkaniññu śamabodhakadaivatatittinuḷḷaṅkarattileāru kuññukuraṅgamuṇṭ.

Appendix 1 123 Vibhūti 1. kāruṇyaṁ keāṇṭu kāṇunnulakiṭamakhilaṁ tīrttu kāttuṁ kaṭākṣaprārambhaṁ pūṇṭu lōkēśvariyeārumappeṭuṁ vāmanāṁ vāmadēvan pāril bhūtēśanennākilumaṇiyumuṭan bhūtimānētukeāṇṭuṁ bhūrikṣēmaṁ vaḷarkkuṁ prathitabhasitamē! ninpadaṁ kumpiṭunnēn. 2. ninnekkeāṇṭāṇu lōkaṁ niravadhi vidhamāy nīrajāsan camakkunninnuṁ niyāṇu ninnāluṭanakhilajagatpālakan nīlavarṇṇan ninne prāpiccu nīyāyaḻiyumakhilavuṁ nirm’malajyōtirīśan tanneccūḻunna mūlaprathitabhasitamē! ninpadaṁ kumpiṭunnēn. 3. anpilkkaikūppiyāmnāyavumaṟivupeṟunnāgamābhōgavunninnimpaprācuryadhuryaprabalaphaṇitikeāṇṭetrayō citragānaṁ tumpillātōtiyōti stutimukharamukhaṁ ninnu vāḻttunna vandyattumpappūveātta śud’dhatripurabhasitamē! nenne ñānunniṭunnēn. 4. pāpāraṇyattilettipparicineāṭu piṭikkunna khaṇḍāvabōdhattī pāyunninneyunni tribhuvanapaṭalaṁ viṭṭu mēlpōṭṭu pōvān sōpānampōle neṟṟittaṭamatilaṇiyunninṟe puṇyatripuṇḍraśrīpādattinnu nityaṁ śirasi karameṭuttampeāṭuṁ kumpiṭunnēn.

124 Appendix 1 5. bhīmāṭōpaprapañcabhramaṇatil valaykkunna kandarppagātraṁ dhīmākṣajyōtirāviśśikhamunayileriññanantamāy ventunīṟi bhīmajyōtsnāsamānaṁ suṣamayeāṭavaśēṣiccu bhūṣiccu nityaṁ sōmasvāmiprasādapperuma taṭaviṭuṁ bhasmamanta:smarāmi. Vīṇapūvu (1907) 32. Ennālumunḍaḻenikku viyōgamōrthum Innatra nin karunamāya kidappu kandum Onnalli nāmayi sahōdararalli? Pūve! onnalli kaiyiha raciccatu nammellām? 37. Ippaṣcimābadiyilaṇaññjoru tāramārāLulapnnaśobhamudayadriyilethidumbol Salpuṣpameyivide māñju sumeruvinmel Kalpadrumathinude kōmpil vidarnidām nī Candālabhikṣuki (1922) 195. entu paṟavū? entōrppū – jāti hanta viṭambanaṁ rājan! 200. caṇḍālitan mey dvijanṟe – bījapiṇḍattinuṣaramāṇō? 224. jantukkaḷokkeyīvaṇṇaṁ- śrīman! hanta! sahajarennalla, 225. cintikkileānnāy varunnū – pinnentantaraṁ marttyarkku tam’mil?

Appendix 1 125 308. snēhattilninnudikkunnu – lōkaṁ snēhattālvr̥ d’dhitēṭunnu. 309. Snēhantān śakti jagattil – svayaṁ snēhantānānandamārkkuṁ. 310. Snēhantān jīvitan śrīman – snēhavyāhatitanne maraṇaṁ. 311. Snēhan narakattindvīpil – svarggagēhaṁ paṇiyuṁ paṭutvaṁ Duravasta (1922) 841. māṟṟuvin caṭṭaṅṅaḷe svaya,malleṅkil māṟṟumatukaḷī niṅṅaḷettān. Naḷini (1911) 1. nalla haimavatabhūvil, – ēṟeyāy kŏllaṁ – aṅṅŏru vibhātavēḷayil, ullasiccu yuvayōgi yēkanul phulla bālaravipōle kāntimān. 2. ōti, nīṇṭa jaṭayuṁ nakhaṅṅaḷuṁ bhūtiyuṁ ciratapasviyennatuṁ, dyōtamānamuṭal nagnamŏṭṭu śītātapādikaḷavan jayiccatuṁ. 3. pārililla bhayamennu mēṟeyuṇṭāriluṁ karuṇayennu mētinuṁ pōrumennumaruḷī prasannamāy dhīramāya mukhakāntiyālavan.

126 Appendix 1 4. talparatvamavanārnnirunnu tellappōḷ-vennarīyeyūḻi kākkuvān, kōppiṭuṁ nr̥ patipōleyuṁ kaḷikkōppeṭutta ceṟupaitalpōleyuṁ, 5. itra dhan’yata tikaññu kāṇmatillatra nūnamŏru sārvabhamanil cittamāṁ valiya vairi kīḻamar nnattaltīrnna yamitanne bhāgyavān. 6. dhyānaśīlanavanaṅṅadhītyakāsthānamārnnu taṭaśōbha nōkkinān vānilninnu nija nīḍamārnneḻuṁ kānanaṁ khagayuvāvupōlevē. 7. bhūri jantugamanaṅṅaḷ, pūtteḻuṁ bhūruhaṅṅaḷ niṟayunna kāṭukaḷ, dūrdarśana kr̥ śaṅṅaḷ, kaṇṭutē cārucitrapaṭabhaṅgipōlavan. 8. paṇṭu tanṟe purapuṣpavāṭiyuḷkkŏṇṭa vāpikaḷe venna pŏykayil kaṇṭavan kutukamārnnu tennalil taṇṭulaññu viṭarunna tārukaḷ. 9. sāvadhāna metirēṟṟu celluvānā vikasvarasaras’sayaccapōl pāvanan surabhivāyu vannu kaṇṭāvaḻikku padamūnninānavan. 10. āgatarkku vihagasvaraṅṅaḷāl svāgataṁ paṟayumā sarōjini yōgiyē vaśaganākki-ramyabhūbhāgabhaṅgikaḷ harikkumāreyuṁ.

Appendix 1 127 11. ennumalla śubharamyabhūvivarkkennumuḷḷŏranavadyabhōgamāṁ van’yaśōbhakaḷilatrayalla yīdhan’yanārnnŏru nisarggajaṁ rasaṁ. 12. ākayāl svayamakuṇṭhamānasan pōkayāmatu vaḻikku tannivan, ēkakāryamathavā bahūt’thamāṁ ēkahētu bahu kāryakāriyāṁ. 13. kunnutannaṭiyilettavē svayaṁ ninnupōy jhaṭiti cintapūṇṭapōl, ennumalla ceṟutārttiyārnnavāṟŏnnuvīrttu neṭutāyuṭan yati. 14. entuvān yamiyivaṇṇa mantarā cintayārnnatathavā ninaykkukil, jantuvinnu tuṭarunnu vāsanābandhamiṅṅuṭalu vīḻuvōḷavuṁ. 15. appumānṟeyakamōḷamārnna vīrppappŏḻāññanatidūrabhūmiyil adbhutaṁ taruvilīnamēniyāy nilpŏrāḷkku tiratalli hr̥ ttaṭaṁ. 16. svantaniṣṭhayatināy kuḷiccu nīrcintumīṟanŏṭu pŏykatantaṭē bandhurāṅgaruci tūvi ninnuṣas’sandhyapōleyŏru pāvanāṅgiyāḷ. 17. kaṇṭatillavar parasparaṁ, maraṁkŏṇṭu nērvaḻi maṟaññirikkayāl, raṇṭupērumakatārilārnnitulkkaṇṭha-kāṇaka haha! bandhavaibhavaṁ!

128 Appendix 1 18. ā tapōmr̥ ditayāḷkku talkṣaṇaṁ śītabādha viramiccuveṅkiluṁ, śvētamāy jhaṭiti, kuṅkumābhamāmātapaṁ taṭaviluṁ, mukhāmbujaṁ. 19. āśapōkilumatipriyattināl pēśalāṅgiyaḻalēkumōrm’mayil āśa vāyuvil jaralprasūnayāmā śirīṣalatapōl ñaṭuṅṅināḷ. 20. sīmayaṟṟaḻalilŏṭṭu sūcitakṣēmamŏnnatha caliccu, mīnināl ōmanacceṟumr̥ ṇāḷamennapōl vāmanētrayuṭe vāmamāṁ karaṁ. 21. hanta! kānanatapasvinī kṣaṇaṁ cinta bālayivaḷārnnu vāṭināḷ, entinō?-kulavadhūṭikaḷkkeḻunnantaraṅgagatiyāraṟiññutān! 22. onnu nirṇṇayamudīrṇṇaśōbhayāḷinnu tāpasakumāriyallivaḷ, kundavalli vanabhūvil nilkkiluṁ kundamāṇatinu kānti vēṟeyāṁ. 23. ennumalla sulabhāṅgabhaṅgiyāṇinnumittaruṇi parimāriluṁ, minnukilli śaradabhraśātayāy, khinnayākilumahō taṭillata. 24. kr̥ cchṟamāyivaḷ veṭiññu pōnnŏrāsvacchasahr̥ darivaḷkku tulyarāṁ, acchanuṁ jananitānumārttiyālicchayārnnu mr̥ titān variccupōl.

Appendix 1 129 25. hā! hasikkarutu ceytu kēvalaṁ sāhasikyamivaḷennu-sādhviyāḷ. gēhavuṁ sukhavumŏkkeviṭṭu tānsnēhamōti, yatuceytatāṇivaḷ. 26. snigd’dhamārivaḷeyōrttirunnu sandigd’dhamaśrunira peytutān ciraṁ mugd’dhatan mr̥ dukaraṁ kŏticcumē dagd’dharāy pala yuvākkaḷ vāṇutān. 27. īvidhaṁ sakala lōbhanīyamījīvitaṁ vrataviśīrṇṇamākkināḷ bhāvukāṅgi, athavā manōjñamāṁ pūvutān bhagavadarccanārhamāṁ. 28. jīvitāśakaḷ naśiccu, vāṭiyuḷpūvu, jīvagatiyōrttu ceykayāṁ dēvadēvapadasēvayēvamībhūvilāvilata pōvatinnivaḷ. 29. śāntayāy sucirayōgasanyatasvāntayāyiviṭe mēviyēṟenāḷ kānta, yinnaṭitakarnna sētupōl dāntiyaṟṟu dayanīyayāyitē. 30. ī mahāvrata kŏticca sid’dhiyeṅṅāmayaṁ paramiteṅṅitentuvān hā! manuṣyanathavā hitārt’thamāy vāmalīla tuṭarunnatāṁ vidhi. 31. mānasaṁ bhagavadaṅghripaṅkajadhyānadhārayiluṟacciṭāykayāl dīnayāy gatitaṭaññu, vēnalil śyāmayāṁ taṭinipōle tanviyāḷ.

130 Appendix 1 32. nŏnta cittamŏṭu ninnu kaṇṇunīr cinti haimanasarōjamŏttavaḷ santapiccu-vadhuvinnadhīramāṇantaraṅgamativijñayākiluṁ. 33. khinnabhāvamitakaṟṟi, mānasaṁ pinneyuṁ pratinivr̥ ttamākkuvān sannahiccatha saras’sil nōkkiyās’sannadherya taniyē pulampināḷ 34. “svāmiyāṁ raviye nōkkinilkkumen tāmarē, taraḷavāyuvēṟṟu nī āmayaṁ taṭaviṭāyka, talkkarastōmamuṇṭu tiriyunnadikkiluṁ. 35. santataṁ mihirātmaśōbhayuṁ svantamām’madhu kŏticca vaṇṭinuṁ cantamārnnaruḷi nilkkumōmalē, hanta! dhan’yamiha ninṟe jīvitaṁ.” 36. kōṭṭamaṟṟaviṭeyetti, yindriyaṁ pāṭṭilākki yapabhītiyāṁ yati, kāṭṭiliṅṅane manuṣyagēyamāṁ pāṭṭukēṭṭu paramārnnu katukaṁ. 37. vākkiluṁ pŏruḷiyuṁ rasasravaṁ vāykkumā madhuraśabdamettiṭuṁ lākkiluṁ cevikŏṭuttu kāṭṭiluṁ nōkkininnu layalīnanāyavan. 38. ‘hā! viśiṣṭamr̥ dugāna, minni nī kūviṭāyka kuyilēyanakṣaraṁ!’ ēvamōtiyalayuṁ maraṅṅaḷ tan pūveḻuṁ tala taḷarttaśākhayuṁ.

Appendix 1 131 39. kāṇi ninnaviṭeyit’thamāsthayāl kāṇuvānuḻaṟi, kaṇṭharītiyāl prāṇasakhyamaruḷuṁ sajīvayāṁ vīṇatanne layavēdiyāṁ yati. 40. ‘van’yabhūmiyil vahiccu pumaṇaṁ dhan’yanāyahaha! vannaṇaññu nī tennalē! taḻuvukinnu śaṅkavēṇṭenne; ñān malinamēniyalleṭō.’ 41. kañjalīnakhagarāgamennapōl mañjugānamatu vīṇṭumīvidhaṁ vyañjitāśayamaṭuttukēṭṭavan kañjinītaṭamaṇaññu nōkkinān. 42. cāññalañña ceṟudēvadāruvinnāñña śākhakaḷaṭikku, cintayāl kāññu, kāṇmatu manōrathaṅṅaḷāl māññu tannila maṟannu ninnavaḷ. 43. ‘hā! Kṛśā tarutalattilinduvinnēkaraśmiyatupōleyārivaḷ? māḻkiṭunnu, dayatōnnuṁ-’ennaliññēkayāmavaḷe nōkkinān yami. 44. appŏḻāśu taniye viṭarnnavaḷkkulppalaṅṅaḷŏṭiṭañña kaṇṇukaḷ uḷpramōdamatha vēliyēṟṟamārnnadbhutāṅgiyuṭe candranō yati. 45. dūre ninn yamitanneyāśu kaṇṭāratennumuṭanēyaṟiññavaḷ pāramiṣṭajanarūpamōruvān nārimārkku nayanaṁ susūkṣmamāṁ.

132 Appendix 1 46. ñeṭṭiyŏnnatha kuḻaṅṅininnu pinnŏṭṭu sambhramamiyannu pāññavaḷ tiṭṭamāy yatiye nōkki, yāḻiyē muṭṭininnaṇamuṟiñña vāripōl. 47. ‘anpininnu bhagavan, bhavalpadaṁ kumpiṭunnagatiyāya dāsi ñān’ vempiyēvamavaḷōti, yōgitanmunpil vīṇu mr̥ duhēmayaṣṭipōl. 48. oṟṟayāyiṭakuruṅṅi vācca tan kuṟṟavārkuḻalu talapadaṅṅaḷil uṟṟarāgamŏṭaṭiññu kāṇkayāl muṟṟumōrttu kr̥ takr̥ tyayennavaḷ. 49. unnininnu ceṟutuḷkkurunnināl dhan’yayeppunaranugrahiccuṭan, pinnilāññavaḷe hastasan̄ jñayālunnamippatinumōtināl yami. 50. spaṣṭamājñayatināle pŏṅṅiyuṁ naṣṭacēṣṭata kalarnnu taṅṅiyuṁ kaṣṭamāyaviṭe ninneṇīṟṟutē dr̥ ṣṭayatna dayanīyayāyavaḷ. 51. māṟil ninnuṭaniḻiñña valkkalaṁ pēṟiyāśu padarēṇu tŏṭṭavaḷ kūṟŏṭuṁ talayil veccu, sādaraṁ māṟininnu yamitanne nōkkināḷ. 52. ‘entuvānabhimatan kathikkumō? entuvān karutumō mahānivan?’ cintayēvamavaḷārnnu; tuṣṭiyāl hanta! ceytu yami manabhēdanaṁ.

Appendix 1 133 53. “maṅgalaṁ bhagini, ninṟe bhaktiyāl tuṅgamōdamiyalunnu ñān śubhē eṅṅu cŏlliviṭeyārŏṭāru nī yeṅṅu ninnu muniputradarśanē?” 54. ennuraccu punaruttarōlkanāy ninnutē svayamasaṅganākiluṁ, syandamānavadāru vārimēl mandamāccuḻiyilāññapōlavan. 55. ‘munnilen niyatiyālaṇaññuminnenne yenpriyanaṟiññatillivan! sannavāsananahō maṟannutān munnamuḷḷatakhilaṁ mahāśayan.’ 56. ēvamōrttumatha vīrttumārnniṭuṁ bhāvacāpalamaṭakkiyuṁ javaṁ pāvanāṅgi pariśaṅkamānanāy sāvadhānamavanōṭu cŏllināḷ: 57. “kaṣṭakālamakhilaṁ kaḻiññu hā! bhiṣṭamī vaṭiviyannu vannapōl mr̥ ṣṭanāyiha bhavān; bhavānu paṇṭiṣṭayāṁ “naḷini” ñān mahāmatē! 58. prāṇanōṭumŏrunāl bhavalpadaṁ kāṇuvān ciramahō! kŏticcu ñān kēṇuvāṇiviṭe, yēkumarthiyāṁ prāṇitan priyamŏrikkalīśvaran. 59. sann’yasiccaḷavumāsthayāl bhavān tanneyōrttiha tapas’sil vāṇu ñān dhan’yayāy sapadi kaṇkamūlamaṅṅenne yōrkkukilu mōrttīṭāykiluṁ.”

134 Appendix 1 60. ēvamōtiyiṭarārnnu kaṇṇunīr tūvināḷ mŏḻi kuḻaṅṅi ninnavaḷ. bhāvaśālikaḷ piriññukūṭiyālīvidhaṁ vikalamāṁ sukhōdayaṁ. 61. dhīranāya yati nōkki tampitan bhūribāṣpaparipāṭalaṁ mukhaṁ, pūritābhayŏṭuṣas’sil maññutan dhārayārnna paninīrsumōpamaṁ. 62. āratennuṭanaṟiññu katukaṁ pāramārnnu karutippurāgataṁ, cāruśaiśavakathaykkutanne cērnnōruvākkaruḷinān kaniññavan. 63. “pāravuṁ paricayaṅkalarnneḻuṁ pērumī madhuramāya kaṇṭhavuṁ sāramāy smr̥ tiyil nīyumippŏḷ nin dūramāṁ bhavanavuṁ varunnayē. 64. kaṇṭuṭal svayamaṟiññiṭāttatōrttiṇṭalvēṇṭa sakhi! kēṇiṭēṇṭakēḷ, paṇṭu ninneyŏriḷaṁ kurunnatāy kaṇṭu ñān, sapadi valliyāyi nī. 65. ennil ninnaṇuvumēlkkilapriyaṁ ninnu kēḻumayi! kaṇṭiṭunnutē ninnilipraṇayacāpalatte ñānannuminnumŏrupōle vatsalē. 66. pōyatŏkkeyathavā namukkayē, prāyavuṁ sapadi māṟi kāryavuṁ āyatatvamaṟivinnumārnnu,-pō ṭṭāyatentiviṭe vāṇiṭunnu nī:

Appendix 1 135 67. ōrkkukinnatathavā vr̥ thā śubhē hētu kēḷkkuvatŏrart’thamētinō nī tuniññu-nijakarm’manītarāyētumārggamiyalā śarīrikaḷ. 68. pinneyŏnnŏrupakāramētinō, yenneyōrttu sakhi, ētatōtuka, an’yajīvanutaki svajīvitaṁ dhan’yamākumamalē vivēkikaḷ.” 69. mālu ceṟṟuṭanakannumuḷḷilennālumāśa taṭavāte vāṭiyuṁ, ālapiccayatitanne nōkkināḷ lōlakaṇṭhamatilōlalōcana. 70. navyamāṁ paridhiyārnnanukṣaṇaṁ divyadīpti citaṟīṭūmāmukhaṁ, bhavyaśīlayavaḷ kaṇṭū, kuṇṭhayāyavyavasthitarasaṁ, kuḻaṅṅināḷ. 71. pāramāśu viḷaṟikkaṟuttuṭan bhūricōnnumatha maññaḷiccumē nāritan kaviḷ niṟaṁ kalarnnu, hā! sūryaraśmi taṭavuṁ paḷuṅkupōl. 72. telluninnaruṇakāntiyil kalarnnullasicca himaśīkarōpamaṁ, melleyārnnu mr̥ duhāsamaśruvuṁ cŏllināḷ mŏḻikaḷ cāruvāṇiyāḷ. 73. “ārya! munparicayaṅṅaḷ nalkiṭuṁ dhairyamārnnu paṟayunnu madgataṁ, kāryaminnatayi? kēḷkkumō kaniññāryamākilumanāryamākiluṁ.

136 Appendix 1 74. pāramuḷḷilaḻalāyi, jīvitaṁ bhāramāyi, paṟayātŏḻikkukil tīrukilla, dharayil bhavānŏḻittārumillatumivaḷkku kēḷkkuvān. 75. āḻumārttiyathavā kathikkilīyūḻamōrttiṭumatan’yathā bhavan, pāḻilōtiṭukayō vidhikku ñān kīḻaṭaṅṅi viramikkayō varaṁ? 76. tannatilla paranuḷḷu kāṭṭuvānŏnnumē naranupāyamīśvaran innu bhāṣayatapūrṇṇamiṅṅahō vannupōṁ piḻayumart’thaśaṅkayāl! 77. muṭṭumennaḻalaṟiññiṭāykilu teṟṟiyen hr̥ dayamāyanōrukil ceṟṟumē pŏṟutiyilla pinne ñān paṟṟukillaṟika maṇṇil viḷḷiluṁ.” 78. ēvamōti atidūnayāyi ninnāvarāṅgi, yatitan mukhāmbujaṁ pāvanaṁ paricil nōkkināḷ, avan kēvalaṁ karuṇayārnnu cŏllinān: 79. “an’yathā mativarillenikku nin man’yuviṅkal niyataṁ mahāvratē!” kan’yayennu vaṭuvennu mēlukillan’yabhāvamaṟikātmavēdikaḷ.” 80. āṭalŏṭṭavaḷ veṭiññu satvaraṁ tēṭi dhairyamatha, pūvanattiluṁ kāṭutan naṭuviluṁ sumarttuvil pāṭīṭuṁ kuyilupōle, cŏllināḷ:

Appendix 1 137 81. “vannu vatsala, bhavān samakṣamāyinnu, ñān vyatha maṟannatōrkkayāl, ennumalla, karutunnu vīṭṭil nāmannu vāṇatu tuṭarnnupōl manaṁ. 82. lōlanāryanuruviṭṭu kēṭṭŏrābālapāṭhamakhilaṁ manōharaṁ! kālamāyadhikaminnŏrakṣaraṁ pōlumāyatil maṟappatilla ñān. 83. bhūripūkkaḷ viṭarunna pŏykayuṁ tīravuṁ vaḻikaḷuṁ tarukkaḷuṁ cārupulttaṟayumōrttiṭunatincāre nāmeḻumeḻuttupaḷḷiyuṁ. 84. ōrttiṭunnupavanattileṅṅumaṅṅārttu citraśalabhaṁ paṟannatuṁ pārttuninnatu maṇaññu nāṁ karaṁ kōrttu kāvinarikē naṭannatuṁ. 85. pāṭumāṇkuyile vāḻttiyā ravaṁ kūṭavēyanukariccu pōyatuṁ cāṭukāranuṭanennŏṭāryanāppēṭayepparihasiccu cŏnnatuṁ. 86. uccayāy taṇalilāññu pustakaṁ vaccu mallikayaṟuttirunnatuṁ meccamārnna ceṟumālakeṭṭiyen kŏccu vārmuṭiyilaṅṅaṇiññatuṁ. 87. eṇṇiṭunnŏḷivil vannu pīḍayāṁ vaṇṇamen miḻikaḷ pŏttiyennatuṁ tiṇṇāṅṅatil valaññukēḻumen kaṇṇunīru kanivil tuṭaccatuṁ.

138 Appendix 1 88. entinōtuvatatōrkkilā rasaṁ cintumen sudinamastamiccitē, gantukāmanuṭanāryan, ēkilāmantarāyametirvātyapōlivaḷ. 89. pōṭṭe-en sahacaran viyuktanāy nāṭṭil ninnatha maṟaññatañjasā kēṭṭu ñeṭṭiyayivīṇu garjjitaṁ kēṭṭa pannagakumāripōle ñān. 90. pinneyen priyapitākkaḷ kāttuḻannenneyaṅṅavaraḻalpeṭāteyuṁ unni vāṇŏriṭamāryanēlumīmannilennuṭalu ñān viṭāteyuṁ. 91. harṣamēkuvatinacchanēṟe niṣkarṣamārnnatha vaḷarnnu khinnayāy, karṣakan kiṇaṟināl nanaykkiluṁ varṣamaṟṟa varinellupōle ñān. 92. ōrttiṭāykilumahō! yuvatvamenmūrttiyārnnatha valaññitēṟe ñān pūttiṭuṁ taruviluṁ taṭattiluṁ kāttiṭā latakaḷ, kālamettiyāl. 93. ōtuvānamutenikku pine,yentatanōrttŏru vivāhaniścayaṁ kātiletti, viṣavēgamēṟṟapōl kātarāśaya kuḻaṅṅi vīṇu ñān. 94. āḻumampŏṭati svāntamōtumen tōḻimāreyumeḻiccu ñān paraṁ vāḻumaṣadhamakaṟṟi,yā śramaṁ pāḻilāyeḻu masād’dhyarōgikaḷ.

Appendix 1 139 95. śāntamāka duritaṁ! viniścitasvāntayāy kadanaśalyamūruvān dhvāntavuṁ bhayavumōrttiṭātuṭan ñān taṭākataṭametti rātriyil.” 96. vēgamābbhayadaniścayaṁ śraviccākulādbhuta dayārasōdayan, ēkinān ceviyavan, sagadgadaṁ śōkamārnnu katha pintuṭarnnavaḷ. 97. “lōkamŏkkeyumuṟaṅṅi, kūriruṭṭāke mūṭiyamamūrtti bhīkaraṁ ēkayāyaviṭe ninnu, sūciyēṟṟākilŏnnuṭalaṟiññiṭāte ñān. 98. tiṇṇamāyiruḷilninnuṁ viśvasicceṇṇinēn jhaṭiti bhūtabhāvikaḷ, viṇṇil ñānŏṭuvil nōkki, satrapaṁ kaṇṇaṭaññuḍugaṇaṅṅaḷ kāṇkayāl. 99. ‘nityabhāsura nabhaścaraṅṅaḷē, kṣityavastha bata niṅṅaḷōrttiṭā atyanart’thavaśa ñān kṣamippinikr̥ tya’mennumavayōṭirannu ñān. 100. ōrttupinnuṭanagādhatōyamāṁ tīrt’thasīmayiliṟaṅṅiyaṅṅu ñān ārttiyāl mŏḻiyilō manas’silō prārt’thitaṁ caramāmavamōtinān: 101. ‘jīvitēśaneyanugrahikka, vanbhūviluṇṭu girijē! valaññuṭan īvidhaṁ tunivatāmaśakta ñān dēvi, ninpadamaṇaykkayambikē!’

140 Appendix 1 102. kāṇukil puḷakamāṁ kayattilaṅṅāṇukŏḷvatinuṭan kuticcu ñān, kṣōṇiyil praṇayapāśamaṟṟeḻuṁ prāṇikaḷkku bhayahētuvētuvān. 103. caṇṭitan paṭali nīṅṅiyāḻumen kaṇṭhamŏṭṭuparitaṅṅi, ākayāl iṇṭalārnnuḻaṟiyōrttu, tāmarattaṇṭil vārmuṭi kuruṅṅiyennu ñān. 104. satvaraṁ paṭali nīṅṅiyāḻumen kaṇṭhamŏṭṭuparitaṅṅi, ākayāl iṇṭalārnnuḻaṟiyōrttu, tāmarattaṇṭil vārmuṭi kuruṅṅiyennu ñān. 105. ampiyannu bhayamŏkke nīkkiyŏnnimpamēkiyavaḷ nōkki susmita, mumpilappŏḻutudiccupŏṅṅiṭunnampiḷikketirahō natāṅgiyāḷ. 106. niṣṭhapūṇṭarikil vaṇiruṭṭilen dhr̥ ṣṭamāṁ tŏḻilu kaṇṭuyōgini, iṣṭamāya mr̥ tiyettaṭaññu hā! bhiṣṭameṅṅine yŏrāḷkkatē varū. 107. keṭṭiyāññu karayēṟṟiyāśu kaiviṭṭu ninnu katha cōdiyātavaḷ oṭṭaten pralapanattil ninnaṟiññŏṭṭaṟiññu nija vaibhavaṅṅaḷāl. 108. īṟanampŏṭu pakarnnu valkkalaṁ māṟiyā mahatiyettuṭarnnu ñān vēṟumey niyati nalkuṭunnatuṁ pēṟiyaṅṅane parēta dēhipōl.

Appendix 1 141 109. adhvakhēdamaṟiyātavāṟu cŏnnattapōdhana kaniñña vārttakaḷ etti ñaṅṅaḷŏru kāṭṭiluṁ drutaṁ citrabhānuvudayācalattiluṁ. 110. antaraṅgahitanāṁ bhavānŏḻiññantikattil vanaśōbha kāṇavē santapiccavaḷ paraṁ, ramikkayilleṅkiluṁ praṇayahīnamānasaṁ. 111. kīrttanīyaguṇayenne nirbhayaṁ cērttu inneyavaḷittepōvanaṁ, ārttiyeṅkilumatīva dhan’yayennōrttiytāryane yanuprayāta ñān. 112. ottu ñaṅṅaḷuṭajattilunnil vāṇatyudāramatha vidyayuṁ svayaṁ vittināy mukilu vr̥ ṣṭipōleyāsid’dhayōginiyenikku nalkināḷ. 113. pañcavr̥ ttikaḷaṭakkiyanvahaṁ neñcuvaccurutapōmayaṁ dhanaṁ sañcayippatinu ñān tuṭaṅṅi, piññañcuvaṭṭamiha puttu kānanaṁ. 114. kāmitaṁ varumenikku vēgamennā mahāmahati ceytanugrahaṁ, prēmamārnna guruvin prasādamāṁ kṣēmamūlamiha śiṣyalōkaril. 115. maṅgalāśaya! kaḻiññu raṇṭu nāḷiṅṅnu pinneyanimittamentinō, pŏṅṅiṭunnu sukhamārnnumantarā maṅṅiṭunnu bhayamārnnumenmanaṁ.

142 Appendix 1 116. svairamāya muhurudicciṭunnu durvvāramenṟe matiyil, tapasyayil kariyōṭariya puṣpahētitan vairiyāya vaṭuvin samāgamaṁ. 117. innale bbhagaṇamad’dhyabhūvil ñān ninnu kūppiya vasiṣṭhabhāmini vannu nidrayatil ‘ēlkka nin priyan vannu’ ennaruḷināḷ dayāvati.” 118. ennu cŏlli viramiccu, tanmukhaṁ ninnu nōkki, neṭumārggakhinnayāy ennapōl, bharamakannapōliḷaccŏnnu tampi neṭuvīrppiyannavaḷ. 119. bhāvamŏṭṭuṭanaṟiññu, śud’dhayāmāvayasyayaḻalārnniṭāteyuṁ, īvidhaṁ yati paṟaññu tanmanas’sāvilētaramaliññiṭāteyuṁ. 120. “kēṭṭu niñcaritamadbhutaṁ! śubhē, kāṭṭil vāḻvatineḻunna mūlavuṁ kāṭṭi sāhasamanalpamētutānāṭṭe; nin niyamacarya nannayē! 121. uṇṭu katukamuraykkil, nāṭatil paṇṭirunnatumakannu kāṭitil kaṇṭumuṭṭiyatu mennumalla, nāṁ raṇṭupērumŏru vr̥ ttiyārnnatuṁ. 122. hā! śubhē nija gatāgataṅṅaḷ tannīśaniścayamaṟiññiṭā naran, āśa niṣphalavumāy varunnavannāśiyātiha varunnabhīṣṭavuṁ.

Appendix 1 143 123. svantakarm’mavaśarāy tiriññiṭunnantamaṟṟa bahujīvakōṭikaḷ, antarāḷagatitannilŏnnŏṭŏnnantarā peṭumaṇukkaḷāṇu nāṁ. 124. snēhameṅkilumiyannu khinnanāy sāhasaṅṅaḷ tuṭarunnu santataṁ dēhi, īśakr̥ payāle tanmahāmōhinidrayuyuṇarunnanāḷvare. 125. kāṭṭiliṅṅŏrumahānubhāvatan kūṭṭilāy bhavati, bhāgyamāyi, ñān pōṭṭe, śānti! vidhi yōgaminniyuṁ kūṭṭiyākilatha kāṇkayāṁ, śubhē!” 126. ēvamōti naṭakŏḷvatinnavan bhāvamārnnu, paritaptayāyuṭan hā! veḷuttavaḷ miḻiccuninnu maṇ pāvapōle hatakāntiyāy kṣaṇaṁ. 127. cintanŏntuḻaṟi yātracŏllumō hanta! bhīru yatiyettaṭukkumō svantasahr̥ danayaṅṅaḷōrttuḻannentuceyyumavaḷ?-hā! naṭannavan. 128. kaṇṭuṭan karaḷaṟunnapōleḻunniṇṭalēṟiyabhimānamaṟṟavaḷ kuṇṭhayāṁ kumaripōle dīnamā, kaṇṭhamōṭaḻutuṟakkeyōtināḷ: 129. “prāṇanāyaka bhavānṟe kūṭavē kēṇupōṁ hr̥ dayanītanāyahō! prāṇanenne veṭiyunnitē jalaṁ tāṇupōṁ ciṟaye matsyamennapōl.”

144 Appendix 1 130. kūvi vāyuvilakanna tāmarappŏveyāññu taṭayunna hansipōl ēvamunmukhi pulampiyettiyābbhūvil vīṇavaḷ piṭiccu talpadaṁ. 131. “enṟeyēkadhanamaṅṅu jīvanaṅṅenṟe bhōgamatumenṟe mōkṣavuṁ, enṟeyīśa! dr̥ ḍhamīpadāmbujattinṟe sīma, itu pōkililla ñān. 132. an’yathā karutiyārdranāryanīsannadhairyayeyahō! tyajikkŏlā dhan’yayāṁ eḷiya śiṣya, yīpadaṁ tannil nityaparicaryayŏnnināl.” 133. hā! mŏḻiññitu nakhampacāśruvāl kōmaḷaṁ sati nanaccu talpadaṁ ā mahān tiriyeninnu, nirm’malaprēmamāṁ valayilāru vīṇiṭā. 134. “tōḻi, kāruṇikanāṇu ninnil ñān, kēḻŏlā kr̥ paṇabhāvamēlŏlā, pāḻilēvamaḻalākumāḻiyāññaḻŏlā naḷini, ajñapōle nī. 135. pāvanāṅgi, pariśud’dhasahr̥ daṁ nī vahippatatilōbhanīyamāṁ, bhāviyāykatu, citāśavaṅṅaḷil pūvupōl, aśubhanaśvaraṅṅaḷil. 136. snēhamāṇakhilasāramūḻiyil snēhasāramiha satyamēkamāṁ, mōhanaṁ bhuvanasaṅgamiṅṅatil snēhamūlamamalē! veṭiññu ñān. 137. āptasatyanaviyōgamāṁ sukhaṁ prāptamāṁ sakhi rahasyamōtuvān”

Appendix 1 145 āptaniṅṅane kaniññuraykkavē dīptadīpaśikhapōleṇīṟṟavaḷ. 138. nōkkininnu hr̥ tayāyavanṟe divyakyanirvr̥ tikarōjjvalānanaṁ vākkinālaparimēyamāṁ mahā vākyatatvamavanōti śāśvataṁ. 139. śaṅkapōy, śiśiravāyuvēṟṟapōlaṅkuriccu puḷakaṁ, viṟaccutē paṅkuhīna, ghananādahr̥ ṣṭamāṁ pŏṅkaṭampinūṭe kŏmpupōlavaḷ. 140. antaruttaṭarasōrm’mi du:sthayāy hanta! cāññu taṭavallipōl sati, svantamey vikalamāyapōlaṇaññantarā niyami tāṅṅi kaikaḷāl. 141. śāntavīciyatil vīcipōle saṁkrāntahastamuṭal cērnnu taṅṅaḷil, kāntanādamŏṭu nādamennapōl, kāntiyōṭaparakānti pōleyuṁ. 142. dhan’yamāṁ karanasatvayugmaman’yōn’yalīnamaṟivaṟṟu nilkkavē kan’ya kēvalasukhaṁ samāsvadiccan’yadurllabhamalōkasambhavaṁ. 143. bhēdamillavaḷiyannŏrā sukhaṁ tādr̥ śaṁ sakala bhŏgyamallatān, khēdalēśavumiyannatilla, vicchēdabhītiyuḷavāyumillatil. 144. cāruhāsa, yaṟivenni peytu kaṇṇīruṭan, carmamēghavr̥ ṣṭipōl, dhārayālatha nanañña neñcilad’dhīradhi puḷakamārnnumillavan.

146 Appendix 1 145. ōmalāḷ mukhamatinnu nirggamiccōmiti śruti nigūḍhavaikhari, dhāmamŏnnuṭanuyarnnu minnalpōl vyōmamaṇḍalamaṇaññu māññutē. 146. kṣīṇayāy miḻiyaṭaccu, niścalaprāṇayāyuṭanavanṟe tōḷatil vīṇu, vāyu viramiccu kētuvil tāṇupaṟṟiya patākapōlavaḷ. 147. ñeṭṭiyŏnnakamaliññu sanyamaṁ viṭṭu vīrttu neṭutāy mahāyami paṭṭiṭañña tanu tanṟe mēni vērpeṭṭiṭāññu bata! śaṅkatēṭinān. 148. stabdhamāy hr̥ dayamēṟi bhāramāpuṣpahāramr̥ dumey taṇuttupōy, suptiyalla layamalla yōgamallappŏḻārnnatavaḷennaṟiññavan. 149. “entu sambhavamitentu bandhamiṅṅentu hētuvitinentŏrart’thamō! hanta! karm’magati! bālayenṟe bāhāntaraṁ caramaśayyayākkināḷ 150. snēhabhājanatayārnna hr̥ ttitil dēhamiṅṅane veṭiññu pāṟṟapōl mōhamārnnu paramāṁ mahas’sahō mōhanāṅgi taḻikikkaḻiññivaḷ. 151. āraṟiññu tanubhr̥ ttukaḷkku nis’sāramēvamasubandhamennahō! nāri, ninniḷavayas’sitētu hr̥ ttāriyanna paripākamētayē. 152. ñeṭṭaṟunna malaruṁ tr̥ ṇāñcalaṁ viṭṭiṭunna himabindutānumē

Appendix 1 147 oṭṭudu:khamiyalāṁ, vapus’su vēṟiṭṭa nin sukhamahō! kŏtikkilāṁ. 153. hanta! sādhvi, madhurīkariccu nī svantamr̥ tyu sukumāracētanē, entu nāṇamiyalāṁ bhavajjitan jantubhīkarakaran, kharan, yaman? 154. jātasahr̥ damuṟaṅṅuvān svayaṁ jāta, taḷḷayuṭe māṟaṇaññapōl, nī tuniññu nirasiccirikkil ñānētu sāhasikanāmahō? Priyē! 155. tyāgamēvanu varuṁ samagramībhōgalēbhanajagattilennumē vēgaminnatu veṭiññu hā! mahābhāgayāṁ naḷini dhan’yatanne nī! 156. uttamē! vigatarāgamākumennuḷttaṭatteyumulaccu śānta nī ittaraṁ dharayileṅṅu śud’dhamāṁ cittavuṁ madhuramāya rūpavuṁ? 157. nēru-śaiśavamatiṅkalannu nin bhūmiyāṁ guṇamaṟiññatilla ñān, kōrakattil madhuvennapōleyuḷttāril nī praṇayamārnnirunnatuṁ. 158. innahō! cirasamāgamaṁ svayaṁ tanna daivagatiyettŏḻunnu ñān, ellumallanutapicciṭunnu, tēnvenna ninmŏḻikaḷ ninnupōkayāl. 159. bad’dharāgamiha nī mŏḻiññŏrāśud’dhavāṇi vanavāyulīnamāy, śrad’dhayārnnatine yāsvadiccu hā! sid’dhasantati sukhikkumōmalē!

148 Appendix 1 160. ākulatvamiyalilla yōgi ñān, śōkamillini ninakkumētumē, nī kulīnaguṇadīpikē, viṭuṁ lōkamāṇu dayanīyamen priyē! 161. vēṇiyākiya veḷutta nirjharaśrēṇi cinnivirahārttiyārnnu tān kṣōṇi kandara nirud’dhakaṇṭhayāy kēṇitā muṟayiṭunnu kēḷkka nī! 162. nīlaviṇnaṭuvuṟaccu bhānu, kāṇmīla kāṭṭilumanakkamŏnninuṁ, bāla nī jhaṭiti pŏṅṅumūkkināl kālacakragati ninnupōyitō! 163. dhan’yayāyi sakhi ñānasanśayaṁ, ninnŏṭŏkkumupadēśabhājanaṁ, an’yanāṁ guru labhiccatillayīmannil vidyaveḷivāya nāḷmutal. 164. mānasaṁ paripavitramāyi nin dhyānayōgyacaritaṁ smariccayē jñāni nī bhavati sid’dhiyārnnŏrenmēniyuṁ mahita tīrt’thabhūmiyāy! 165. dharm’malōpamaṇayāte nam’maḷil śarm’mavuṁ vyathayumēkiyēṟenāḷ nirm’malē oru vaḻikku nīṇṭŏrī karm’mapāśāgati nī kaṭannutē!” 166. prēmagaravamiyannivaṇṇamuḷsthēmayaṟṟaruḷi, yārnnu pinneyuṁ ā mahān nijayamaṁ, calikkumē bhūmiyuṁ hr̥ dayalīnahētuvāl.

Appendix 1 149 167. drutamaviṭeyaṇaññō śiṣyayettēṭiyappōḷ kr̥ taniyama kaniññācārya kaṣāyavēṣā mr̥ tatanuvatu kaṇṭaṅṅŏṭṭu vāviṭṭu kēṇāḷ hataśiśuvinenōkkiddūnayāṁ dhēnupōle. 168. ‘naḷini’ ‘naḷini’ ennāmantraṇaṁ ceytucennāmiḷitayamivapus’sāyōru pūmeyyeṭuttāḷ daḷitahr̥ dayaṁ-kaiyāl śāntibimbattilninnuṁ gaḷitasuṣamamāṁ nirm’mālyamālyaṁ kaṇakkē. 169. an’yōn’yasāhyamŏṭu nīlakuśāstarattil vin’yastarākki mr̥ dumeyyavar nōkkininnār, van’yēbhahastagaḷitaṁ bisapuṣpamŏttārnnan’yūnadīnatayateṅkilumābhatānuṁ. 170. alpaṁ valaññatha parasparamōtivr̥ ttamulpannabōdharavamōrttu vidhiprakāraṁ cŏlpŏṅṅumā girija cēvaṭi cērttadikkil kalpiccavaḷkku khananaṁ varayōgiyōgyaṁ. 171. nivāpavidhipōle bāṣpaniratūvi nikṣiptamāṁ śavāstaramakannu-hā! kr̥ paṇarpōle raṇṭāḷumē pravāsamatināy svayaṁ punaruṟaccŏrāyōgiyāṁ ‘divākara’ne viṭṭu yōgini maṟaññu, sandhyāsamaṁ. 172. lōkakṣēmōtsukanatha vidēśattil vāṇā yatīndran, śōkaṁ cērnnīlavanu naḷinīcintayāl śud’dhiyēṟi ēkāntācchaṁ viṣayamaghamiṅṅētumē cittavr̥ ttikkēkā-kaṇṇāṭiyilinamayūkhaṅṅaḷ maṅṅā patiññāl. 173. avanu punāmēghaṁpōyi nūṟṟāṇṭu, pinnōrttavasitividhi, yūḻikkettumō nityabhāgyaṁ aviditatanupātaṁ vismayaṁ yōgamārjjiccaviratasukhamārnnānā mahān brahmabhūyaṁ!

Appendix 2 Translation of Naḷini or Oru Snēham (1911)

1. Long ago – in the beautiful Himalayas, Young ascetic flows outward in joy As the sun’s rays spread out at dawn. 2. His long beard and nails and ashes on his body Reveal that he has been meditating for a long time, His body, naked and shining, Has overcome heat and cold. 3. He fears no one on earth, He is a fountain of compassion for all; His courageous face, Shows that he is prepared for anything. 4. As a king he is prepared, Full of enthusiasm; yet like a little child He sits here a while, playing with his toys, Overcoming all his enemies. 5. Surely no one else is so accomplished, Here on earth; Fortunate is the ascetic, For he has overcome the mind: the great enemy.

Appendix 2 151 6. Meditating, he climbs to the top of the mountain Where he admires the beauty of the valley; As a young bird flies from the sky to its nest in the forest. 7. The forest full of blossoming trees and roving animals, From afar he admires it, as though He sees a gorgeous work of art. 8. He sees the lotus spread, abounding in beauty, More than his hometown lake filled with flowers Swaying with the southern breeze, He stands still, amazed. 9. The lake filled with blossoms wafts pure aroma, inviting him to come. As he strides that way. 10. Just as birds with their myriad tones Welcome the visitor, so does the lotus pond Enchant the charming ones of earth, Including the ascetic. 11. For him, enjoying the earth’s beauty Is not forbidden; Rather, enjoying beauty is inborn In him: it is his nature. 12. So he, the one who overcomes sorrow, walks slowly toward the pond. One thing can arise from many; one cause can generate many.

152 Appendix 2 13. Suddenly he pauses, stands a long moment, pondering, Sighs deeply, and continues In his contemplation. 14. Why does he stand so lost in thought? What is he thinking? The knowledge and the character we have in previous births Still abides in us until our full liberation . . . 15. Marvelous! Waves from the man’s heart, Reach out in ripples to the woman’s heart. She stands nearby, hidden by a tree. 16. She ritually stands beside the pond to get her wishes fulfilled, In her wet clothing, stands showing her body, beautiful as the dawn. 17. They did not see each other – The trees directly hide them – But their minds are full of wonder and confusion. Indeed! They are remembering their previous bond. 18. Although she is weak from waiting, yet the cold vanishes; Although the red sun’s rays caress her face, yet her cheeks become pale. 19. The gorgeous woman has lost her hope in love, yet in her memory, she still holds it fast, Suddenly she startles, as a small vine, its flowers fading, Falling from a nearby tree.

Appendix 2 153 20. Her endless suffering overwhelms her, But, as tenderly as a fish nibbles the lotus flower’s stem, Something makes her left-hand quiver. Is it possible she will have good luck? 21. Why does she, the young woman meditating here, All at once become tremulous in her thoughts? Who knows the mind of a chaste woman! 22. But clearly, the extremely beautiful woman – Is no longer the ascetic woman: Even if the small vine of jasmine hangs in the forest, The brilliance of the jasmine is something else again. 23. She is surely more beautiful than the other young girls. Doesn’t the pale lighting of the winter cloud shine as strong as the lightning of the monsoon? 24. Who can experience her heartbreak, her torment? When she loses him, her close friend? Her parents have refused their wedding. She decides to take her own life. 25. Indeed! Do not mock her! She is courageous and virtuous to abandon her home, her comfortable life, because of her great love. 26. Her playmates and close friends Pour out their sad tears for her And wait a long time to her tenderly, this friend of their hearts on the threshold of her life.

154 Appendix 2 27. In her suffering, her life begins to dwindle, Consumed by her intense meditation; Like a beautiful flower, she draws everyone, Like a beautiful flower offered to God. 28. As her dreams fail her and the flower of her heart shrivels, She thinks more and more of God. To overcome her suffering in this world, she goes to serve at God’s feet. 29. For many years now, she has lived in meditation Controlling her mind . . . attaining to bliss; Today, though, her mind is unsteady, her bliss bewildered: She is standing like a broken embankment. 30. Why this sadness, God, for your cherished ascetic, She who has yearned for knowledge of you? What human beings yearn for . . . Indeed! Fate, brings them to its opposite. 31. Her mind unsteady, unsettled in its meditation, Even at God’s lotus feet, She pauses, draws into herself, as a river suddenly stops flowing in summer. 32. Her tears and grief reveal her pain; She trembles like a lotus in winter, Trying to be brave against the cold, but feeling her strength drain away from her. 33. Once more she gathers herself to ease her sadness, To regain her previous state, to be once again the valiant one. Looking at the lake, quietly she begins to sing:

Appendix 2 155 34. “O, my Lotus, with respect you regard the Sun And receive the breeze of my wandering thoughts. Do not be sad; the life-giving rays of the sun Spread outward in all directions. 35. Always you glorify the great Sun and Always the small bee that yearns for your nectar, Indeed! O loving one, you float here in beauty, welcoming these beings who bring your life bliss.” 36. The fearless ascetic, controlling his senses, Has reached the middle of the forest; there He stops, stands wondering, entranced by a woman’s voice raised in song. 37. To this forest melody, full of emotion In its words, in its deep meaning He reaches out, listening, Caught up in it, his gaze seeking the source. 38. ‘Indeed! Of this great soft song, O Cuckoo! sing the supple branches of the tree now leafing out, now flowering, Do not sing without meaning. 39. He, the maker of rhythm, Stands still a while, yearning to see. The young ascetic gazes on the living Vīna: healer and giver of life. 40. “O fragrant breeze, you who carry the scent of forest and flowers, come and embrace me. Do not be afraid: my body is pure, untainted by the world.”

156 Appendix 2 41. Once again, he hears the sweet melody – Perhaps a bird, hidden in the vines? The shore of the lotus pond attracts his gaze. Lost in joy, he attends to the song. 42. Lost in her thoughts, the woman stands Under the branches of a devadār tree – A small tree swaying in the breeze – Forgetting a while her sorrowful life. 43. “Only a glanze at her and he melts away, The ascetic, the fountain of compassion” – Indeed! Who is this woman, her body slender as a moonbeam? 44. Is he the moon, she wonders; Is he the mysterious bodied one who draws the heart’s joy higher, like the tide? Suddenly, she knows: her loving eyes widen like the lotus. 45. She knows him, the hermit ascetic who sees her from a distance! O women have good sharp eyes to recognize their loved ones . . . 46. She sees him so clearly, yet she is still confused. Like a river yearning to join the sea, she runs to him, her heart trembling at their closeness. 47. “She said: “O Bhagavān, I bow low at your feet, seeking your compassion. I am your servant, prostrate at your feet, like the smallest branch, soft and golden.”

Appendix 2 157 48. There she bows, satisfied. Her tangled hair Lies like sheaves at his feet. Quiet, she turns her mind towards her actions, as she ought to do. 49. He too is lost in thought for a while. He blesses her again. Then, suddenly, He gestures to distances himself from her and asks her to stand up. 50. Slowly, for she is frail, She obeys his command, Rises, and finally stands, But oh! with what difficulty . . . 51. She draped the garment that had fallen down; respectfully, she touched his feet and smeared the dust from his feet on her head. Then, she stood aside, gazing at the hermit. 52. Pondering. “What will this proud one say? How will this great man regard me?” She wondered. To her great gladness, She hears the ascetic breaks his silence: 53. “Greetings, Bhagini. I am greatly pleased with your devotion. Who are you? With whom do you live? From where have you come? You are like a child ascetic!” 54. He spoke, his mind circling the questions, Waiting intently for her response, as a tree flowing with the river’s current catches and circles in a slow whirlpool.

158 Appendix 2 55. “By fate he appears before me, but he knows not who I am; He cannot remember the loving hours we spent so happily together previously.” 56. But she remembers everything In a breath she swiftly controls her passion, the pure bodied one. Her concern is great, and she speaks with fright. 57. “Indeed! My time of travail is over, as fate takes format; O Great One, I who look on you now, I am the same ‘Naḷini,’ whom you loved in the past. 58. Weeping, I was living my days yearning to see you again; as a devotee desires, God to fulfill wishes. 59. As a hermit I meditated on you, Now, suddenly, seeing you, I am blessed, whether or not you remember me.” 60. With these words, her tears rolled down, And she stood speechless, Yet also like those affectionate ones, lost in joy. 61. Sternly, he looked at the beautiful woman, Her face covered with tears; as the morning sun touches a rose covered with dew.

Appendix 2 159 62. Suddenly, he recognized her! bemused, he thought of their past, their childhood stories, and in a rush, he replied: 63. “I remember now your familiar name, your sweet voice; Oh yes, I remember your faraway home. 64. Don’t be sad; don’t cry Because I did not immediately recognize you; Long ago, you were a small shoot, But now you are the full-fledged vine! 65. O weeping one! Never will I ignore you nor treat you badly . . . You still bedazzle me as brightly now as then. 66. Since then many things have changed for us: age and other aspects, and we are fulfilled with that knowledge – why are you still living here? 67. O Beautiful one! I long to hear your answer, though I know no telling can explain why people choose – to reach in different directions. 68. My friend, what favor do you ask, to remember me and give me your answer? For wise ones, being useful to others, make their own lives blessed.”

160 Appendix 2 69. Even though she is still a little sad, She is tired of hopelessness. With a hushed throat, the beautiful one, gazed on the waiting ascetic. 70. She saw him wholly, his bright halo, the divine light radiant in his face, speechless now, and so tired, she gazed on him with humility. 71. Suddenly, the woman’s cheeks Became dark, then tawny, Then tinged with rosy light, She was like a crystal caressed by sun’s rays. 72. Like a snowy peak of the Himalayas, which the sun’s rays joyfully embrace. Slowly, with soft tears and a tender smile, Adoringly, she speaks to the ascetic: 73. “Ārya! I take my courage From the feelings we used to share. Right or wrong, will you please listen to what I say? 74. Except for you, on earth no one else, Listens to me, and I must speak. My heart is filled with grief, and My daily life is a heavy burden. 75. Even now that I say these words I am afraid you will misunderstand; Am I talking only in vain? Should I submit to fate? Leave you again?

Appendix 2 161 76. God gives us not any means truly to reveal our hearts to another; Even language is incomplete, We speak, but mistaking words, confusing their meanings. 77. Āryan, if you miss my whole sadness, if you misunderstand my heart, then I will not be able to live, in heaven or on earth.” 78. She had said her whole heart, Beautiful, she stood there in her sadness, Looking with devotion at his lotus face. And with compassion, he answered her: 79. “O great ascetic! No misunderstanding Has come of your sad words. The wise ones know no difference between ascetic and virgin.” 80. In a moment, her suffering leaves her. Gathering her courage, as in the midst of the forest the cuckoo does in the spring, she sings out: 81. “Bhagavan, when I stood near you, I forgot my sorrow, and more than that, I feel as close to you, as we used to feel at home. 82. The wonderful childhood lessons You taught me, bright Āryan, I remember every word of them, Though it was so long ago.

162 Appendix 2 83. The lakes filled with lilies, the banks and footpaths and trees, the lawns – I remember them all, and our village school nearby. 84. How vivid those days were! We watched- so intentlythe butterflies floating by as we walked, hand in hand beside the sacred grove. 85. We tried to sing the high-pitched song of the male cuckoo, and you, always the playful one, mocked the flirtatious bird. 86. At noon recess, we raced to the shady trees, threw down our books on the ground, and went gathering the fragrant jasmine, then wove a garland to adorn my short hair. 87. When we played counting games, you stole up Behind me and covered my eyes. When I was hurt, and cried out in pain, you wiped away my tears, full of compassion. 88. Why am I babbling, remembering all this? Because those wonderful days have gone, and now you too prepare to go, O Āryan. But I stand like a wind against you. 89. Let go – then you left, my friend, disappeared without anyone’s knowledge. And I fell down like a snake’s child hearing the blast of lightning in deep confusion.

Appendix 2 163 90. My parents, loving and patient, did not trouble me. And, because there is an āryan on this earth somewhere, I did not allow myself to die. 91. But I was full of sorrow, Though my father tried to restore me, As from the well the farmer waters The first rice sprig in summer. 92. Though I did not want to remember you, youthfulness seems to create suffering in me; and when spring comes, the young vines flower on trees, on everything! 93. And how painful to remember my father deciding to give me in marriage . . . I fell down, reeling, overcome by fear, Like one poisoned. 94. My friends came to comfort me with deep love, But I sent them away. Useless to give medicine to dying persons. 95. But peace to my sorrow! Suicide would cast away the arrow of sadness. Without even thinking of darkness or fear, I stood beside the lake in the night.” 96. He listened to her, heart filled with compassion and wonder. He listened deeply to her. Sobbing now, she went on:

164 Appendix 2 97. “All the world sleeping (that fearful image of death), And the darkness dense around me – So dense I would not feel a needle’s piercing – I stood there, alone. 98. Until a flash in that darkness, I saw my past and future. Still the stars were blinking shyly in the sky. 99. ‘O stars,’ I cried out, ‘you do not understand my sorrow, my terrible heartbreak. forgive me this awful choice, I prayed to them. 100. No longer waiting, I slid down the deep lake’s banks. Whether I spoke aloud or only in my mind, passionately my final words poured out: 101. ‘O Girija, you remain on this earth, bless the love of my life. Tangled in grief, I surrender to death, Devī, take me to your feet, O Ambika.’ 102. Out of my senses, I jumped into the deep waters seeking to drown. What is there to fear, When on earth the bonds of love are broken? 103. Swimming clear of the water plants, I sank down as deep as my neck; But then, lotus stems entangling my hair, I began to struggle, frightened and confused.

Appendix 2 165 104. But someone had caught me by my hair, and was pulling me free of the waters. Who was it? I looked up, breathless, to see a beautiful ascetic holding me fast. 105. She smiled at me then, so lovingly, and sensing her compassion, I lost all my fear. So beautiful! She stood against the rising moon. 106. Near me on the dark shore, cautious, she looked on my futile work. Indeed! She had kept me from the death I held dear, as fate befalls us all. 107. Swiftly, with strong arms, she brought me upon the bank, left me alone, asking no questions, For despite my foolish babble, she already understood me. 108. Changing from my wet clothes, I followed that great lady. Fate, it seemed, had given my dead body another body to live through. 109. We travelled tirelessly, and she upheld me with her wise words. As swiftly as the rising sun touches the mountain peaks, so we came to the forest. 110. Yet seeing the beauty of the forest without, the one close to heart; She was sad, as a heart broken in love enjoys nothing.

166 Appendix 2 111. The praiseworthy one, the one Without fear joined me in the āśramam, Stricken with grief, yet I thought myself blessed to follow the Āryan. 112. With her blessing, I lived as a hermit, and she taught me generously, as rain pours down on a tiny sprout, so, the divine yogini gave me her wisdom. 113. Determined in mind, I learned to control my senses. Since I began practicing meditation, five times the forest has blossomed. 114. The great ascetic has blessed me So that soon I will attain my wishes. The joy of the loving guru becomes the comfort of her disciples. 115. ‘O beloved one! The two days I have stood here, At this pond in meditation, and my mind is restored and peaceful. yet, it becomes again fearful. 116. With a good feeling, just as Gaurī united with the Celibate one, whose foe is the Kāmadeva. Meditation fills my mind. 117. Yesterday amidst the constellation of stars, I paid my respect to Arundhati; She came with compassion in my sleep, and said, “Behold, your beloved has come!’”

Appendix 2 167 118. With these words, she broke off, gazed On his face like one tired from long travel; As though she set down a heavy load, She gazed at him and sighed. 119. He understood her feelings. Without making this innocent one suffer, Without losing the purity of his heart, He gazed at her and said: 120. “I am full of wonder at your story! Caring for nothing else, with great courage You sought refuge in the forest, and your life has been blessed. 121. Just talking to one another fills us with wonder – How we shared life in the village, Then separated, then we met again in the forest . . . and now we are seeking the same goal. 122. Truly, O fortunate one, We humans know nothing of life, of death. When we seek, even without hope, We sometimes find what we wish for. 123. Of all the innumerable creatures, each busy with its own doings, each of us is only a small particle traveling through the narrowest passage. 124. We may be struck down with grief, but the spirit that loves in us continues to explore until, by God’s grace, the soul wakes from its great, sleep of ignorance.

168 Appendix 2 125. And you are here in this forest fortunately, with a great ascetic. Peace! Let me go. If fate allows, we will meet again, śubhe!” 126. Saying so, he turned to depart. Pale at the shock, consumed with grief, she stood there gazing into vacancy, dull as a doll of clay. 127. Will she, in her pain, accept his farewell? Despite her timid heart, dare to stop his going? What, her heart’s long love remembering that started from childhood, will she do? Indeed, he is walking away. 128. Even more deeply her heart is torn by pain; Her pride falls away and away. Like a desolate bird whose song is only melancholy, loudly she cries out: 129. “O Source of Life, I am pleading with you, take me, in your compassion! Like a small fish caught in ebbing waters of an embankment, I am losing my life.” 130. As a female swan stops the swaying of the lotus in the wind, she flies weeping toward him, falls before him, holding fast to his feet. 131. “All the wealth I have is you alone, you are my life, my joy, my salvation. My Lord, your lotus feet secure and steady me. If you leave me, I no longer exist.

Appendix 2 169 132. My passionate words sprang from desire. They are wrong; but, compassionate one, though I, your servant, have no courage, do not forbid me; humbly to serve forever at your feet.” 133. Alas! Her burning tears bathed his feet, And he turned back to her. who can escape the gift, the labor of pure love? 134. “My friend, I am full of compassion for you. Naḷini, do not weep and consume yourself in such sorrow. Do not lose yourself like an ignorant one, Uselessly, in a sea of grief. 135. How precious is this love in your heart, But do not waste it so on unblest mortals – You are only scattering flowers on corpses on the pyre. 136. Love is the essence of everything in the universe, nothing less than this essence of love is the only truth. The world’s touch entices, but O pure one, I renounce it for this deeper love. 137. My friend, I will tell you a deep secret: “The one who knows this truth, receives eternal bliss.” Hearing his kindly words, she rose like a radiant lamp. 138. Enthralled, she gazed on his face, Glowing with truth, inspiring her ecstasy, Unexplainable, beyond all telling, the lasting foundation of this one great word.

170 Appendix 2 139. All her doubting gone, like one on a high place touched by cold wind, the righteous one stood shivering, as a rumbling cloud shivers the branches of the kadamba tree. 140. Suffering filled and overflowed her heart, And her tired body began to fall as a small vine falls down towards earth. The accomplished ascetic supported her with his hands. 141. As waves calmly meet each other, their hands and bodies met, as a sound blends into a sweeter sound, as light blends into brighter light. 142. Their bodies and their spirits fulfilled, they stood together completely one; the chaste woman tasted ultimate bliss, rare in this world. 143. It is the same bliss she enjoyed all don’t enjoy, very few reach; bliss that banishes her regret or sadness, bliss that banishes her fear of losing it. 144. Bliss that smiling, pours down tears, Like rain from the last cloud, His bosom wet from her tears, Still he is firm in heart, unmoved. 145. With her breath, she whispered Ōṁ, the holy word, mystical essence of the Vedas – a bolt of lightning flashing and fading in the sky.

Appendix 2 171 146. Exhausted, she closed her eyes, unmoving, she leaned against his shoulder, like a flag clinging to its mast after the wind has died. 147. Surprised, his heart melting within him, He lost his firm control and sighed deeply. Soft as silk her body clung to him, doubt filled the great ascetic’s heart. 148. Heavy yet tender as a garland of flowers, Her heart beat stopped, her body became cold – As he held her he knew she had entered neither sleep nor dream nor meditation. 149. “What strangeness is this? What does this cold embrace mean? Alas! what path of action? The young one has made of my body her death bed! 150. As a cockroach loses its body, she has left her body, her heart full of love. The great one has lost desire: she has left her beautiful body. 151. Whoever knows the frail bonds we mortals have with life! Woman, despite your youth, you equal The ascetic in the wisdom of your heart! 152. Like a flower that falls from its stalk, or the dew from the grass blade’s tip, I am sad, yet I envy your joy, in leaving your body.

172 Appendix 2 153. Alas! O good and lovely one, you made your own death sweet; but did not the horrible, hard-hearted Yaman shamefully defeat you? 154. As a child comes lovingly to her mother’s bosom to sleep, you came to me; was I heartless to refuse you, O beloved? 155. No one can truly give up the world that tempts so with its pleasure. Naḷini, blessed are you to cast it so quickly away. 156. O perfect one! You shook my heart – I, who am beyond worldly emotions, none on this earth is so sweet, so, pure of mind as you are. 157. True, we were children together, but I was blind to so many of your virtues. I did know, though, the love you bore me, Like honey in the heart of the bud. 158. And today! Meeting you after long years God gave us this chance. How I regret that your voice, sweeter than honey, falls silent forever. 159. That pure word you spoke in the passion of love Has disappeared in the forest breeze, but With all my conscious life, I cherished it, as one beloved who knows bliss completely.

Appendix 2 173 160. As an ascetic, I can experience no pain, and Now you too will no longer know sadness, O light of noble virtue, O beloved! Leaving this earth, you make it so pitiful. 161. The white untied streams of her hair Clothe the earth in mourning; Earth’s sobbing from her caves, Now you can hear this lament. 162. The sun stops still in the blue sky, the forest all stillness – Has the sudden force of your soul’s ascent stopped the wheel of time? 163. Surely, I am blessed, my friend, for I am your disciple. I have had no other teacher in the world since the day knowledge was first revealed. 164. As I remember your story, so worthy of contemplation, My mind grows more deeply holy. O, full of knowledge! Even my disciplined body has become a holy place. 165. Our way of action was the same, bringing joy and sorrow for a long time without any weakening to our dharma – O Pure one, you have passed over the path of action.” 166. His mind shaken with the immensity of love, the great one, as the earth revolved, gradually regained his self-control, his discipline, strength of purpose in his heart.

174 Appendix 2 167. Then, suddenly, clad in saffron cloth, the yogini came in search of her disciple. when she saw the woman’s body, she wept loudly, as the cow stands moaning over her dead calf. 168. “Naḷini, Naḷini,” she called, with a sad heart. As a priest removes a decayed garland from the idol in the temple, so she took away the tender body, still clinging to the yogi’s bosom. 169. Together they laid her tender body down on a bed of dark blue-green grass, and stood and gazed. Like a lotus fallen from a wild elephant’s trunk, she lay there, lovely, pitiful. 170. Troubled, they told her stories to one another; Then, remembering the ritual, They prepared a funeral proper for a great ascetic, where the goddess Pārvatī had set her foot. 171. Like poor people, they poured their tears while offering water during funeral at the tomb. Then, melting into twilight, the yogini took her leave; “Divākaran,” the beloved ascetic, began his long pilgrimage. 172. He lived in a faraway land doing good for the world. Neither sad thoughts of Naḷini nor sinful worldly thoughts troubled him, but ever more holy and calm he became, as a mirror keeps its brightness in the rays of the sun. 173. After many years of fruitful action, he wonders – whether eternal good fortune will be his. More than he knows. He came to death – not bodily, but finally attaining bliss, Supreme in all experience.

Index

advaita 3–4, 15, 19, 44, 53, 69, 74, 88, 101; influence on Āśān 3–4, 45, 82; philosophy 3, 17, 78, 82, 109, 110 akam poetry 80–1 alaukika (transcendence) 5 ānanda (bliss) 5 Āśān, Mahākavi Kumāran: concepts of bhakti 2, 6, 9–10, 12–13, 16, 48, 64; bhakti poems of 57–60, 65, 69, 78, 83; devotion to Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru 73–74; influences on 24–7; experience of Kerala 11, 27, 35; snēham see snēham 5; ideas of women 7, 12; rejection of caste system 101–2; social reform 8; study of nyāyaśāstra 45; utopianism of 78 avarṇa jātis see untouchables and untouchability Āyilyam Tirunāl Rama Varma 22, 37

caste: Āśān’s vision of 12, 17; boundaries of 7, 38, 46, 79, 103; consciousness of 24; critiques of 7, 25, 38, 45; enforced by British colonialism 21, 27, 28; exclusionary practices of 40; hierarchies of 3, 22, 29, 41, 108; injustices 8, 42; lower 9, 10, 11, 16, 19, 23, 35, 36, 47, 57, 79; oppressions of 10, 60; “outcastes” 20, 29, 43, 102; patriarchy preserved by 28; system 10, 18, 26, 27, 43, 44, 47, 89, 100–1; taboos 57; upper (or high) 24, 30, 35, 56, 102, 108 Christians and Christianity: caste systems within 19; conversion to 24, 29, 38; in Kerala 19; literature 57; missionaries 24, 36, 37; “outcastes” 19; Protestant 23; Syrian 19, 23, 24, 28 colonialism see Kerala

Bhabha, Homi K. 9, 12, 13, 17, 34 Bhagavad Gītā 5 Bhāgavata Purāṇa 5 Bhaktavilāpam (devotional lament) 70–3 bhakti: as aṉpu 104n1; bhāva 6; caste boundaries 7; as devotion 1, 4, 7, 11, 41, 78, 101, 109; Hindu 11; as kātal 104n1; literature as protest 79; as love 3, 5; in Malayalam literature 53–8; mārga 4; as a movement 6–11, 16, 21, 53–6, 79, 100–1, 106, 108; theories of 3; as prasthānam 7, 8, 55; premam 5; rasa 5, 111; as resistance 2; as theology of embodiment 6–8, 12, 107; tradition 1; untouchables in 9; as utopian vision 12; yoga 3, 5 bhakti-bhaja 3 Bharatamuni 5 Brahmins 18, 20, 23–5, 27–8, 30; as Malayāḷi 18; see also caste

death: in Āśān’s work 70, 82, 93–6, 98–9, 102; banality of 38; as bliss 82; of the caste system 38; lamentation songs of 75n3; mystery of 47; in Naḷini 81, 83, 85, 89; lamentation songs of 75n3; mystery of 47; as spiritual liberation 70; trope of modernity 8 Dēvīstōtṛaṅgal 65–8 Education Reforms of 1894 36 Ezhuthacchan, Tuncathu 38, 48, 56–7 freedom: from caste system 10, 26, 30, 34, 43; from colonial rule 26, 79; from cycle of rebirth 10; exercise of 24; individual 23, 27; in Malayalam literature 36, 58; from oppression 11, 79; religious 2, 7, 109; of speech 42–3; struggle for 16; as theme in Āśān’s oeuvre 29, 80, 83, 94; as trope of modernity 8

176

Index

Hawley, John Stratton 7, 8, 78, 108 Hindus and Hinduism: castes among 1, 18, 22, 26, 40; devotional attitudes of 108; divisions with Muslims 20; goddesses 65; landlords 20; love between devotee and deity 6; “othering” inside 17; “manly” 28; mythologies 96; pantheon 24; Purāṇic 57; revivalist movement 21; Tantric 64; temples 19, 40 Islam see Muslims and Islam Īzhavas 8, 16, 18, 19, 23–6, 28–9, 39–43, 47; see also caste karma 3, 40, 57, 59, 65; bondage of 63–4, 70, 89, 97; illusion 66; saṁsāra 5 Kabīr 7, 79, 103 Kerala: antrala jāti 18; influence on Āśān 22, 43–9; avarṇa jātis 18; British rule 21, 27; caste system 10, 17, 18, 26, 27, 29, 78; Christian missionaries in 19, 22–4, 36; colonial period of 2, 11, 21, 26, 28, 108; education in 36–7; emancipation of lower castes in 10, 11, 25, 41; indigenous communities of 18; kinship systems 27; reform in 16, 22, 41; renaissance of 40; savarṇa 17; three states of 16 love: as allegory 78; as bhakti see bhakti; devotional 79; God as 88; of God 82, 104n1; as kāmukikāmukhabhāvam (love between lover and beloved) 55; by Kṛṣṇa 57; as sakhibhāvam (friendly love) 55; as snēham see snēham; as social movement 1; as transformation 104; as utopian 102; as vātsalyabhāvam (tender affection for a child) 55, 84; as yajamāna brytyabhāvam (adoration for master) 55 Malayalam poetry and literature 36–9, 78–9; hybridization 80; transliteration of 113(Appendix I) Malayāḷi in Kerala 18 Maṇipravāḷam language and literature 38, 52–5, 109 Mappila rebellion 21–2 Marumakkattāyam system 27, 28, 38 Marumakkattāyam Act 28 Mīrābāī 7, 55, 99 mokṣa (liberation) 3, 6, 58–9, 111 Muslims and Islam: benefiting from trade 28; castes among 19; divisions among 20; humane life for 22; literature 57

Naḷini 1, 2, 7, 8, 12, 39, 45–8, 78, 107, 110, Appendix II Nampūtiris in Kerala 18 Narayana Rao, Velcheru 5 Nāyars 18, 24, 27–8, 36, 38 nirguṇ 4 “Other” and “Othering” 16, 17, 43 Palpu (Dr.) 29, 42–3, 45 Paramahansa 44 Parayās 18 Pāṭṭu 52, 54; as genre 53, 54; as song 74n1 Pāṭṭu Sāhityam 52 puram poetry 80–1 prāpatti 4, 53, 58, 88 Pulayās 18, 20, 23, 26, 27, 40; see also caste rasa 5, 47, 89, 111 rasikatva (taste) 5 Rhyme controversy 41–2 saguṇ 4 samsāra 10, 82, 88 Śaṅkara 39, 45, 110 śanta (bliss/tranquility) 6 śānta bhāva 111 sambhoga 6, 82, 89 Śivajñānapañcakam 69–70 snēham: Āśān’s understanding of 2, 5, 12, 60, 74, 80; as cercca or union 78; consciousness of God through 80; as daya or compassion 78; in Malayalam 5; as santoṣam or happiness 78 Śrī Nārāyaṇa Dharma Paripālana Yōgam 25, 26, 35, 41, 48, 49 Śrī Nārāyaṇa Guru 12, 19, 26; influence on Āśān 34, 40–9, 53, 57, 69, 70, 73–4, 84, 88, 98, 110; early life as Nānu Guru 24–5 śṛngāra 5, 46, 82; saṁbhoga sṛṅgāra 82, 89; vipralambha śṛṅgāra 89; śṛṅgāra rasa 89 Stotṛakṛitikal 11, 12 Sūrdās 7, 56 swātantryam 27 Tagore, Debendranath 43 Tagore, Rabindranath 10, 43, 44, 49, 103 Tamil: Āśān’s familiarity with 35–6; bhakti poems in 60, 64, 65, 79, 96, 100; language 39, 79; legends 7; literary motifs in 34; influence on Malayalam literature 52, 55–8, 74, 80; styles in 9; traditions 6, 8, 88

Index

177

taṟavātu 8, 27, 35, 38 Temperance movement 26

vipralambha 6, 89 Vivekananda (Swami) 43, 44, 45

untouchables and untouchability 2, 9, 20, 28, 89; as avarṇa jātis 18; in Kerala 16, 25, 35, 40, 101, 107; novels about 38; slaves as 9, 27; struggles against 26, 42

women and gender: Āśān’s vision of 12, 103, 154; in bhakti 11; dehumanization of 25; emancipation of 16, 22; inequality of 7, 103; inner life of 7; lack of education for 23, 44; oppression of 27, 28, 44; powerlessness of 98; reversal of 98; role in caste 25, 28

Veṇmaṇi School 38, 49–50 Vibhūti 63–5