Thearetical

Nammāḻvār (traditionally dated around the 9th century CE, though some scholars suggest earlier) is regarded as the foremost among the twelve Āḻvārs of the Śrīvaiṣṇava tradition. His work, the Tiruvāymoḻi (comprising 1,296 hymns), is celebrated as the “Tamil Veda.”

What makes Nammāḻvār unique is not only the spiritual depth of his insights but also the extraordinary poetic range with which he expresses them. His verses embody the Upaniṣadic Vedānta, the Sangam tradition of love poetry, and the theatrical voices of bhakti, blending them into a spiritual-literary masterpiece.

Poetics of Nammāḻvār

1. Personal Voice — His hymns are not abstract theology but first-person confessions of love, anguish, and surrender.

2. Imagery of Love — He often takes the role of a heroine yearning for her beloved (Viṣṇu), or speaks through the voice of her mother or friends.

3. Nature Symbolism — Bees, flowers, clouds, rivers, and landscapes reflect inner states of devotion.

4. Philosophical Depth — The most subtle truths of Vedānta appear not as doctrine but as lived experience.

5. Paradox and Contradiction — God is near yet distant, infinite yet intimate.

6. Musicality and Refrain — His verses are rhythmic, chant-like, intended to be sung and experienced collectively.

I. The Cosmic Poet (Tiruvāymoḻi 1.1 — “Uyarvara Uyar Nalam”)

The opening decad of the Tiruvāymoḻi is a cosmic proclamation of God’s supremacy.

Example: Verse 1.1.1

uyarvara uyar nalam udaiyavan evan avan

mayarvara madhi nalam aruḷinan evan avan

Meaning:

“He alone possesses unsurpassed greatness.

He alone grants clear, unclouded wisdom.”

Here, the refrain evan avan (“He alone”) rings like a mantra, emphasizing God’s singular supremacy.

Example: Verse 1.1.2

vayyam tagaliyā vāḷiyāṉa maḻaiyoḷi

veyya kaṭirōn vilakkāga

“The earth is the lamp, the rain its oil, the blazing sun its flame — all burn to glorify Him.”

Here, ritual imagery of a temple lamp is expanded into cosmic scale. The world itself is an offering.

This decad blends Vedic ideas (“light of lights,” the source of all gods) with Sangam imagery (lamp, sun, rain), announcing that God is both infinite Brahman and intimate Lord. The tone is majestic, philosophical, almost liturgical.

II. The Poet of Longing (Tiruvāymoḻi 5.8 — “Vaṇḍu Tiriyum”)

If 1.1 presents God as cosmic reality, 5.8 reveals Him as the absent Beloved, causing anguish and longing.

Example: Verse 5.8.1

vaṇḍu tiriyum taṇ pozhil sūḻ taḷaiyai

aṇḍam āyum aḻiyum aṇṇal tannai

eṇṇil enakkukku inidām 

“In the groves where bees hum around cool flowers dwells the Lord of all worlds.

He who creates, sustains, and dissolves the universe —

for me, when I think of Him, He is only sweetness.”

The shift is striking: the cosmic Lord of 1.1 is here described as the heroine’s intimate delight, remembered with longing in bee-filled groves.

Example: Verse 5.8.2

kaṇḍa kaṇ allāl kāṇbadhu eṉṛiṛkku

“My eyes, once they have seen Him, refuse to see anything else.”

The refrain of the eyes refusing other sights mirrors obsessive love. The soul cannot look away.

This decad borrows akam conventions (love-poetry of Sangam literature): heroine pining in separation, nature as witness, bees as messengers. Yet the Beloved is not a human lover but Viṣṇu Himself. Thus Nammāḻvār transforms secular Tamil aesthetics into divine love lyric.

III. The Dramatic Poet (Tiruvāymoḻi 6.7 — “Uḍaiyavar Vārā”)

Here, Nammāḻvār invents a dramatic device: the heroine’s mother speaks, describing her daughter’s madness in love for the Lord.

Example: 6.7 (summary)

The daughter has lost all sense of worldly duty.

She wanders, sings, and faints at the thought of Kṛṣṇa.

The mother laments: “What shall I do with her? She is consumed by Him.”

 Significance:

This is a voice-shift: Nammāḻvār speaks not as himself, not as heroine, but as the mother.

It adds dramatic realism — love is so overwhelming that even family becomes a witness to divine madness.

A masterstroke of poetic theatre: the stage of bhakti includes not just the lover and Beloved, but society, family, and nature.

1.1 (Vedānta): Cosmic, universal, philosophical; God as supreme Brahman.

5.8 (Love lyric): Emotional, personal, nature-rich; God as absent Beloved.

6.7 (Drama): Theatrical, multi-voiced; God as the overwhelming force disrupting social life.

Together, these reveal Nammāḻvār’s genius: he is not limited to one mode but moves seamlessly between Upaniṣadic seer, Sangam love-poet, and dramatist.

Nammāḻvār stands at the intersection of Tamil poetics and Sanskrit Vedānta.

In Tiruvāymoḻi 1.1, he is the philosopher-poet who proclaims God as light of lights.

In Tiruvāymoḻi 5.8, he is the love-poet who aches in separation.

In Tiruvāymoḻi 6.7, he is the dramatist who gives voice to the heroine’s mother.

His poetry spans the range of human experience: awe, longing, despair, and ecstasy. Through paradox, imagery, and musicality, Nammāḻvār transforms philosophy into poetry, and poetry into prayer.

For this reason, the Tiruvāymoḻi is revered not merely as literature but as revelation — the Tamil Veda, where the infinite Brahman is experienced as the intimate Beloved.

Nammāḻvār as a Poet: An Analysis

 Vedānta (1.1), Love (5.8), Drama (6.7)

Nammāḻvār’s Tiruvāymoḻi has had an enduring impact on South Indian devotional culture, theology, and literature.

1. Tamil Veda

Later Śrīvaiṣṇava Ācāryas regarded his hymns as equal in authority to the Sanskrit Upaniṣads.

Rāmānuja himself is said to have revered the Tiruvāymoḻi as the essence of Vedānta in Tamil.

2. Temple Tradition

In major Viṣṇu temples of Tamil Nadu (Śrīraṅgam, Tirupati, Alvar Tirunagari), his hymns are sung daily as part of ritual worship.

The Ārāyirappaṭi (6000 verse commentary) and later commentaries (vyākhyānas) treat the Tiruvāymoḻi as revealed scripture, not just poetry.

3. Literary Influence

His blending of Sangam akam poetics with Vedāntic theology shaped the idiom of Tamil bhakti poetry for centuries.

Later saints like Andal, Manikkavācakar, and the Haridāsa poets of Karnataka drew upon this model of personal divine love.

4. Philosophical Impact

The Śrīvaiṣṇava doctrine of śeṣatva (soul’s eternal servitude to God) and prapatti (surrender) is embodied in Nammāḻvār’s verses.

His poetry became the experiential basis for Rāmānuja’s theology — philosophy lived through love.

Nammāḻvār is at once philosopher, poet, and dramatist.

In Tiruvāymoḻi 1.1, he is the cosmic seer, proclaiming God as light of lights.

In Tiruvāymoḻi 5.8, he is the love poet, aching in separation.

In Tiruvāymoḻi 6.7, he is the dramatist, giving voice to the mother of a love-mad heroine.

His genius lies in showing that the supreme Brahman of Vedānta is not a distant abstraction but the intimate Beloved of the soul. His verses are sung not only as literature but as prayer and revelation, forming the heartbeat of Śrīvaiṣṇava devotion.

Thus, Nammāḻvār remains one of the greatest poet-saints of India — a bridge between Sanskrit and Tamil, philosophy and poetry,intimacy and transcendence.

Essence.

When the heart is filled with Rama, every beat carries His name. The mind finds no room for sorrow, for joy itself takes the form of remembrance. To see with the eyes, to hear with the ears, to breathe each breath — all become sacred when infused with “Ram.”

Every moment is transformed: a whisper of the breeze feels like His touch, the silence of dawn becomes His song, and even the struggles of life seem softened when Rama is near. It is not just worship in temples; it is worship in the marketplace, in the home, in the very turning of day into night.

To say “Bas Ram hi Ram” is not escape from the world, but immersion into its essence. It is the realization that beneath all names, all forms, all times, there is only Rama — the eternal refuge, the unshaken peace.

Man me Ram,

Har kan me Ram,

Har kshan, har swas me Ram—

Bas Ram hi Ram.

Sookh aaye ya dukh ka samundar,

Har leher ka kinara Ram.

Andheron me jyoti ban kar,

Raste ka ujiyara Ram.

Naino ki jyoti,

Hriday ki shanti,

Jeevan ka saar hi Ram.

Shabd me geet,

Moun me pree  me,

Pran ka adhaar hi Ram.

Man me Ram,

Har kan me Ram,

Har kshan me Ram—

Bas Ram hi Ram.

Madi kol.

Madi Kol – Guardian of Purity and Dharma

In the traditional South Indian household, every act was bound by dharma and ritual discipline. Among the many customs that safeguarded the sanctity of the home, the madi kol stood as a humble yet powerful guardian of purity.

The word madi denotes ritual cleanliness – a state attained after bathing and wearing freshly dried garments, untouched by others. Only in this state was a person considered fit to enter the kitchen, cook, or perform puja. The kol or stick, usually placed across the threshold of the kitchen, marked the inner space as sacred – almost like the sanctum of a temple.

Cooking was not seen as an ordinary household chore, but as a sacred yajña. The food prepared was first offered to Bhagavan as naivedya before being partaken by the family. Thus, the kitchen was like a yajña-śālā, and the madi kol was its protective boundary, ensuring that only those who upheld ritual purity could enter.

Elders often narrated that crossing the madi kol without proper observance was like stepping into a sanctified altar with unclean feet. In agrahārams, grandmothers would sit near the kitchen entrance with the madi kol placed firmly across the doorway. Children returning from play would often dash inside in excitement, but the gentle tap of the madi kol on their shoulder reminded them, “Have you bathed? Are you in madi?” In this way, children learned from a young age that food and prayer demanded reverence and discipline.

The madi kol was not a barrier but a teacher – guiding the household in cleanliness, order, and respect for food. It upheld the invisible vibration of śuddhi in the home and reminded one that every meal was not merely for the body, but an offering sanctified by devotion.

The madi kol was also put to practical use in maintaining purity. Freshly washed clothes, especially those meant for ritual use, were dried on clotheslines strung high above, beyond the reach of human hands. To hang them or retrieve them without defiling their madi, the long madi kol was used as an extension of one’s hands. In this way, garments remained untouched, clean, and fit for sacred use. Thus, the stick was not just a symbol of discipline but a tool ensuring ritual śuddhi in every aspect of life.

Though today the strict observance of madi kol has declined, its essence still lives on. It symbolizes discipline, mindfulness, and the protection of what is sacred in everyday life. The simple stick thus carries the weight of a profound message: purity in body and mind is the first step towards purity in action and devotion.

As the scriptures remind us:

“शुद्धिः परमं बलम्”

Śuddhiḥ paramam balam

(Purity is the highest strength.)

Our house madi kol. 

In our home, the madi kol was not only a symbol of discipline but also a part of cherished everyday artistry. My mother would use it to dry her sarees in such a way that they hardly ever needed ironing. With practiced hands she would pleat and fold the saree  and fold it twice pat it neatly, then lift it high to the clothesline  so that it was exactly at the center fold then positioned on the stick to uphost to fall exactly into half on both sides beyond anyone’s reach. Once it was positioned just right, she would fit the madi kol at the correct fold and stretch the saree out perfectly. To us children watching from below, this was no less than a miracle – the saree would hang straight, smooth, and flawless, as though touched by magic. That simple act of precision and grace, performed with the aid of the madi kol, remains etched in memory as a quiet wonder of our childhood.

Bakshanam.

In Paati’s hands, the magic begins,

Rice and dal, all sieved through tins,

Butter melts in the waiting flour,

The kitchen hums this festive flow.

Press the murukku, spiral neat,

Golden curls that smell so sweet,

Drop the thattai, flat and round,

It sizzles, sings, in oil sound.

Omappodi like threads of gold,

Ribbon pakoda — firm, yet bold,

Seedai dancing, tiny spheres,

Boondi raining like festival cheers.

Steel dabbas click, the treasures hide,

Yet children creep and peer inside,

For every crunch is joy untold,

A taste of love in Paati’s hold.

So when the lamps of Jayanthi glow,

It’s not just cradle that steal the show —

It’s the bakshanam, crisp and warm,

That makes the heart feel safe from harm.

Paati’s pan turns amber bright,

Paagu rises, threads of light;

Touch and roll—one-string fine,

Adhirasam blooms, a jaggery sun.

Boondi rains through ladle holes,

Cardamom drifts, a secret told;

Warm palms round the gold to stay—

Laddus set like little moons of May.

Ghee rivers in a copper tray,

Besan whispers, bubbles play;

Knife through clouds—Mysore pak,

Crumbles soft, yet holds its spark.

Urad swirls in sugar seas,

Jangiri wheels with saffron breeze;

Lift and drip, a glazed embrace,

Festival halos stacked with grace.

Nei appam hums, banana-sweet,

Somas sighs with flaky pleat;

Therattipal, slow-milk dream—

White lightning in a silver seam.

Steel tins click; outside, shop bells call,

Pink boxes boast through gilded stall—

But Paati’s sweets, still warm within,

Outshine the market with memory’s grin.

Bakshanam: The Festive Art of Traditional South Indian Snacks

In South Indian households, Bakshanam is more than food—it is a tradition, a craft, and a celebration of taste. The word Bakshanam in Tamil and Telugu loosely translates to “special prepared eatables,” often referring to the crispy, aromatic snacks made for festivals, weddings, and auspicious occasions. These treats are not everyday fare; they are culinary expressions of joy, hospitality, and devotion.

The Meaning and Significance

Bakshanam is typically made in advance for occasions such as Deepavali, Janmashtami, Navaratri, and weddings. In the olden days, guests visiting for functions were welcomed with a platter of bakshanam alongside sweets, symbolizing abundance and care. These snacks also served as travel food, staying fresh for days or even weeks without refrigeration.

Varieties of Bakshanam

Every region and community has its signature items, but common staples include:

Murukku – A spiral-shaped crispy snack made from rice flour and urad dal flour.

Thattai / Nippattu – Flat, crunchy discs seasoned with spices and lentils.

Seedai – Tiny, deep-fried rice flour balls made for Krishna Jayanthi.

Ribbon Pakoda – Wide, ribbon-like strips fried to perfection.

Omapodi – Fine strands flavored with ajwain (omam).

Mixture – A combination of sev, boondi, fried curry leaves, and peanuts.

Each has its own charm, texture, and method of preparation.

The Process.

1. Preparation of Ingredients – Flours are sieved to remove lumps, spices are ground fresh, and lentils are roasted and powdered for aroma.

2. Kneading the Dough/Batter – Ingredients are mixed with butter, ghee, or oil and kneaded into a smooth dough. The consistency is crucial—too soft, and the bakshanam soaks oil; too hard, and it turns brittle.

3. Shaping – Using brass or steel nazhi (press), the dough is shaped into spirals, ribbons, or strands.

4. Frying – The shaped dough is deep-fried in batches over medium heat to ensure even cooking. The sizzling sound and golden hue are signs of perfection.

5. Cooling and Storing – Once cooled, the snacks are stored in airtight tins to retain crispness.

Making bakshanam is a family activity, often done in large batches. Women of the household come together, chatting and laughing as they press, fry, and taste-test the items. In joint families, bakshanam making was a ritual that bonded generations. During weddings, professional cooks (brahmin cooks in Tamil tradition) would prepare enormous quantities, filling the house with a festival-like aroma.

Adaptations

Today, while some prefer store-bought versions for convenience, many still swear by the homemade taste. Health-conscious adaptations include baking instead of frying, using millets instead of rice, and reducing oil without compromising flavor.

Adhirasam: jaggery one-string (oru kambi) paagu, dough rests overnight for a soft, puffed disc.

Boondi laddu: tiny, even pearls; bind while warm with a hint of ghee.

Mysore pak: keep ghee hot and flowing; add in stages till the batter “burps” and turns porous.

Jangiri: thick, well-aerated urad batter; pipe tight coils, soak hot-into-hot syrup.

Somas/Karanji: rub fat into flour till sandy; rest dough so the shell fries flaky, not hard.

Bakshanam making is an art that blends culinary skill, patience, and cultural memory. The crisp murukku, the spicy thattai, the delicate omapodi—each piece carries with it the joy of the occasion it was made for. More than a snack, bakshanam is a bite of tradition, a taste of togetherness, and a reminder that festivals are celebrated not just in temples and halls, but in the kitchen too.

Liberal.

The main argument of the Bhagavad Gita is often seen as unassailable. Proponents of various Hindu sub-religions interpret it as illuminating their perspectives, partly because the Gita explains Karma yoga, Jnana yoga, and Bhakti yoga as interconnected paths. The Vedas align with this, encouraging devotion and worship to focus the mind on God. Acharya Vedanta Desika captures human fallibility with the analogy of an elephant repeating errors despite guidance, just as people often repeat mistakes. He prays for divine grace, drawing a parallel to Lord Krishna guiding and blessing Arjuna through His grace.

Valayappettai Sri Ramachariar emphasised that Lord Krishna’s advice to Arjuna centres on the Charama sloka: Sarva Dharman Parityajya (Chapter 18 — Verse 66): “Completely relinquish all dharmas and seek Me as refuge; I will free you from all sins.” Acharya Ramanuja clarifies that authentic relinquishment means letting go of control, ownership, and attachment to outcomes, not abandoning devotional practices. The core teaching is to dedicate one’s actions to God, with the individual acting as His instrument. Any rewards belong to God, not the agent. Krishna assured Arjuna that He would free him from all obstacles incompatible with the path, such as doing what should not be done and neglecting what should be done. When Arjuna doubted whether he could begin Bhakti yoga, the Lord instructed him to renounce all dharmas. Here, dharmas means expiatory duties. The Lord said He is always compassionate to those who depend on Him.

We are all born to render service to Him. But our sins prevent us from rendering the same. Moksha will eventually come if sins are removed. Through a mere surrender, a person can derive the blessings of God and attain liberation.

Grand Guruvayur.

 Narayaneeyam is a stotra composed by Narayana Bhattathiri. Stotra means explaining and highlighting the prevailing good characteristics in someone. Vedas say Devas love it when yagnas are conducted, while pitrus are pleased when their descendants pray to them. It is human nature to revel in being praised as a good person. However, not everyone remains good constantly. God alone has that unique trait, which is why He is celebrated by staunch devotees such as Bhattathiri, said B. Damodhara Deekshithar.

We love to listen to scriptural discourses because we believe that God will come to our aid, as He has done for countless others. It is not possible to see God, only experience Him. Why so? The first sloka of Narayaneeyam offers an answer. The Supreme Reality, the Brahma Tatwa, which is not easy to grasp in the beginning, (we cannot see this God through our human eyes), but the realisation of which is the highest purushartha, shines right in (concrete form) as Sri Krishna at the Guruvayur temple. Wonderful indeed is the good fortune of those who seek His Grace, says Bhattathiri. If God chooses, He will appear to His true devotee, as He did to Arjuna. Chapter XII of the Bhagavad Gita says that having decided to show His Viswaroopam to Arjuna, Krishna says, “Let me empower you to see My form,” after which Arjuna is able to behold the Divine Form.

One may wonder why if He is the Brahma Tatwa, the deity at Guruvayur has such a defined form: glistening like sunrise, with long eyes that stretch nearly to the ears, reeking of kindness, teeth like pearls, neck adorned with precious garlands and necklaces, with Mahalakshmi gracing His chest. This form of the idol is said to have been in worship and when Krishna was ready to depart, He instructed Guru and Vayu to carry the idol and install it at a sacred spot. As they journeyed with the idol, Lord Siva, whose form was installed at the very place where Sri Krishna now stands in Guruvayur, instructed Guru and Vayu to leave the idol there as it was the purest place He Himself decided to move His sojourn a few metres away, in order to help devotees pray to Krishna in peace.

Time free zone.

 Sommarøy, also known as “Summer Island” in northern Norway—an enchanting fishing village embraced by pristine white beaches, turquoise waters, and the surreal beauty of Arctic light.

Sommarøy, Norway 

Sommarøy is a small fishing village situated approximately 36 km west of Tromsø in Troms County, Northern Norway. It spans the island of Store Sommarøya and parts of the neighboring Hillesøya and nearby islets, connected to Kvaløya and Hillesøya via scenic bridges .

Covering just 0.41 km², Sommarøy is home to around 304 residents as of 2023, making it a tightly-knit community surrounded by dramatic landscapes . Its charm lies in its ocean-moderated subarctic climate—with mild temperatures even above the Arctic Circle—pristine beaches, and a striking view of islands like Håja rising sharply from the sea .

Fishing remains Sommarøy’s backbone, with a vibrant local fleet and associated fish-processing operations . Tourism has blossomed alongside, with offerings including a local hotel, cozy cabins, a small museum, and a church whose design echoes the silhouette of Håja .

Daylight Extremes & the "Time-Free" Myth

From May 18 to July 26, Sommarøy experiences 69 consecutive days of midnight sun—unbroken daylight—followed by long polar nights from November to January . In 2019, a publicity campaign famously claimed that the residents wished to eliminate clocks and civil time altogether—declaring Sommarøy the world’s first "time-free zone." Though earnest in tone, it was later revealed to be a clever PR effort by Innovation Norway aimed at drawing global attention to the island’s extraordinary conditions 

Sommarøy offers immersive Arctic experiences—kayaking under the midnight sun, wildlife and RIB boat tours, hiking (like the trail up Ørnfløya), and breathtaking beach strolls on coral-sand shores . Travelers can also unwind in saunas and hot tubs with sweeping ocean views . Reviewers share that even in high season, the island retains a tranquil, almost otherworldly calm .

Why Sommarøy Stands Out

1. Ethereal Light: The interplay of midnight sun and polar night gives your sense of time a brand-new meaning.

2. Raw Beauty in Solitude: Untouched beaches and crystal-clear water envelop a peaceful, nature-first lifestyle.

3. Authentic Community: A resilient fishing community with thoughtful tourism—less commercial, more character.

4. A Symbol of Time No More: The "time-free island" myth—though orchestrated—reflects a deeper truth about Sommarøy’s surreal relationship with time and light.

Whether as a poetic metaphor or a literal campaign gambit, Sommarøy has captured imaginations worldwide—and invites travelers to experience a place where time itself seems to lose its grip.