Awakening Through Sound: My Journey with the eleventh Thiruppāvai Paasuram...
Some memories are not kept as images in the mind but retained as sound.
My father was known to play devotional songs in our house every morning. Before the world fully woke up, our home already resonated with the sacred Venkateshwara Suprabhatam, Vishnu Sahasranamam, Thiruppāvai etc. As a child, I did not understand their meanings. Sanskrit and Tamil flowed past my ears like a gentle river whose depth I wasn't able to measure. Yet certain words stayed behind, quietly lodging themselves in my heart:
“SitraadhE pEsaadhE selva pendaatti…”
I didn't know then why these words mattered. But devotion has its own memory, it waited patiently.
I have always been a devout Hindu and have continued listening to religious songs, including Thiruppāvai. But only this year did I begin a more conscious journey, reading, listening, and reflecting. Listening to scholars and speakers like U.Ve. Dushyant Sridhar, Smt.Prabha Senesh, U.Ve.Dr. Venkatesh opened doors I didn’t know existed. The 30 verses of Thiruppāvai revealed themselves not merely as poetry, but as philosophy, psychology, and profound bhakti literature.
And the 11th Paasuram felt like a personal awakening.
It is said that from the 11th Paasuram, each one of our five senses begin to awaken and this paasuram is associated with hearing. How fitting that my connection to Thiruppāvai began with sound, with waking up to it every morning.
Here, Andal describes a Gopi who is Putravaravu Selva Pennai, a woman of abundance, prosperity, and responsibility. She has many cows and calves: “KatRu kkaRavai kkaNangaL palakaRundhu" She milks many cows and is not just materially rich, but rich in effort, discipline, and duty.
Yet prosperity alone does not define her.She is also described as a warrior: “Setraar thiral azhiya chenru serucheyyum”. One who has defeated enemies not only external foes, but inner weaknesses also. A woman of courage, resilience, and moral strength.
She further describes Gopi as faultless, “Kutram onrillaadha kOvalar tam paarkodiyE”— kutram illaadha —faultless, like a tender creeper (kodi) growing gracefully, clinging to values, humility, and devotion.
Andal’s imagery is breathtakingly vivid as she describes the Gopi as:
• Slender-waisted like a cobra (Putravaral algul),
• Graceful like a peacock (punamayil),
• And living in anticipation of Krishna, the Mugil Vannan, the dark rain cloud.
Just as peacocks emerge and dance when clouds gather, Andal urges: “You too, come out and join us."
Krishna here is Mugil Vannan, dark, nourishing, life-giving, promising rain to a thirsty land. The Gopis, like peacocks, cannot remain indoors. Devotion draws them out.
And this is no solitary journey. One of the most beautiful aspects of this paasuram is its collective spirit. “Sutrathu thozhimaar ellarum vandhu” Friends, family, companions all come together.They gather in the mutram, the courtyard to sing the names of the Bhagawan Krishna, “Mugil vannan pEr paada”
Bhakti is not ego-driven. One cannot dance alone. One cannot awaken alone. One cannot praise alone.
And then comes the gentle, almost teasing call which has remained with me too -
“SitraadhE pEsaadhE selva pendaatti, nee”
Why are you not thinking?
Why are you not speaking?
You, who are so blessed, so dear ,Selva Pendaatti , why are you still asleep?
Isn’t this also a question to each one of us?
The final line lingers: “EttRukkuRangum poruLElOr embaavaay”
Why are you still lying down? What is the meaning of this sleep?
For me, this paasuram is not about waking someone else. It is about waking myself.
How often do we remain silent when we should sing? Stationary when we should move? Asleep when the cloud has already gathered?
This year, as meanings unfolded, those childhood words finally spoke to me. The sound that once merely woke me up now awakens me.
And perhaps that is Andal’s grace that bhakti meets us first as sound, then as understanding and finally as transformation.
Elor Empaavaay.
11th Paasuram
KatRu kkaRavai kkaNangaL palakaRundhu
SetRaar thiRalazhiya chenRu seruscheyyum
KutRamonRillaadha kOvalar tam paarkodiyE
Puththaraval kul punamayilE pOdharaay
suTraththu thOzhimaar ellarum vandhu, nin
mutRam pukundhu mukila vaNNan pEr paada,
SitraadhE pEsaadhe selva ppendaatti, nee
ettRukkuRangum poruLElOr empaavaay.
She further describes Gopi as faultless, “Kutram onrillaadha kOvalar tam paarkodiyE”— kutram illaadha —faultless, like a tender creeper (kodi) growing gracefully, clinging to values, humility, and devotion.
Andal’s imagery is breathtakingly vivid as she describes the Gopi as:
• Slender-waisted like a cobra (Putravaral algul),
• Graceful like a peacock (punamayil),
• And living in anticipation of Krishna, the Mugil Vannan, the dark rain cloud.
Just as peacocks emerge and dance when clouds gather, Andal urges: “You too, come out and join us."
Krishna here is Mugil Vannan, dark, nourishing, life-giving, promising rain to a thirsty land. The Gopis, like peacocks, cannot remain indoors. Devotion draws them out.
And this is no solitary journey. One of the most beautiful aspects of this paasuram is its collective spirit. “Sutrathu thozhimaar ellarum vandhu” Friends, family, companions all come together.They gather in the mutram, the courtyard to sing the names of the Bhagawan Krishna, “Mugil vannan pEr paada”
Bhakti is not ego-driven. One cannot dance alone. One cannot awaken alone. One cannot praise alone.
And then comes the gentle, almost teasing call which has remained with me too -
“SitraadhE pEsaadhE selva pendaatti, nee”
Why are you not thinking?
Why are you not speaking?
You, who are so blessed, so dear ,Selva Pendaatti , why are you still asleep?
Isn’t this also a question to each one of us?
The final line lingers: “EttRukkuRangum poruLElOr embaavaay”
Why are you still lying down? What is the meaning of this sleep?
For me, this paasuram is not about waking someone else. It is about waking myself.
How often do we remain silent when we should sing? Stationary when we should move? Asleep when the cloud has already gathered?
This year, as meanings unfolded, those childhood words finally spoke to me. The sound that once merely woke me up now awakens me.
And perhaps that is Andal’s grace that bhakti meets us first as sound, then as understanding and finally as transformation.
Elor Empaavaay.
11th Paasuram
KatRu kkaRavai kkaNangaL palakaRundhu
SetRaar thiRalazhiya chenRu seruscheyyum
KutRamonRillaadha kOvalar tam paarkodiyE
Puththaraval kul punamayilE pOdharaay
suTraththu thOzhimaar ellarum vandhu, nin
mutRam pukundhu mukila vaNNan pEr paada,
SitraadhE pEsaadhe selva ppendaatti, nee
ettRukkuRangum poruLElOr empaavaay.
Aandaal Thiruvadigale Sharanam...
R.Vimala, IAS,
Resident Commissioner & Secretary
Government of Maharashtra &
PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay
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