Aandal – the romantic, the poetess, the goddess.
There is so much magic when it comes to Margazhi, the month of all good things. The peak of winter, the weeks of pleasant dawns and quiet evenings, when the chill in the air is just right.
For me, the month has always meant something special. Ever since my teens, I have been fascinated by the concept of divine love, that of the human soul’s eternal dance towards the light of the universe – the journey of the jeevatma towards the paramatma!
And who better than Aandal to present to the entire humanity the essence of that search, that thedal, in the form of wonderful verses?!
My household has given me the right environment to indulge in this magic, to learn, unlearn, and relearn, with the excitement of a child, every single year.
To me, Margazhi represents the divinity of love, of how it could transcend materialism and give a shade of romance that touches the heart and reaches the soul.
It talks of magic, of the beauty of Tamil poetry, of the dreams and depictions of grandeur as a reward for penance.
It shows the value of perseverance, saying that everything and anything is attainable, given enough incentive and prayer along with work.
It makes me believe in magic, and that of dreams coming true; life is not about the mundane, but what makes it worth enduring the mundane.
It insists that the magic in life is not a constant, but a reward, to be cherished, celebrated, and wholeheartedly embraced.
Margazhi is divine, Margazhi is love, Margazhi is for music and magic.
And for this time, I am aspiring to do a series of posts, one each day, for the 30 divine pasurams – the Tiruppavai.
In this moment I remember my grandmother, whose stories of the month of Margazhi were as much about the festivities and food as they were about the divine and the empiric. Her hands guide me over the words as they did with ladles, too.
This series is dedicated to those souls who see the love in Him, and who passed on the magic, through generations.
Each post is a flash fiction, my literary license to explore the divinity that is Aandal, her Grace that is Love, and try to portray what must have gone through the young maiden’s mind as she professed her undying love to Him, and with her penance, showed us all the road to love and moksha.
The stories are imaginary, and my perception of what could have happened. The historical fiction that tries to give one version of the Goddess that could add more colour to the copies of the original canvas she had painted.
Here’s to Margazhi.
Special note: Thank you, Janani Srikanth, for the suggestion, refinement and support ❤ Forever blessed to have you as my reader, especially so for your expertise that will contribute to this magical journey!