Some of the stories from the Sangam era that I find most fascinating centre around the poetess Avvaiyar. There appears to be three distinct poetesses who are referred to as Avvaiyar, but the first Avvaiyar, from the Sangam era, was a great friend of the ruler Athiyaman Neduman Anji, who was also her main patron.
Avvaiyar’s poetry fascinates me for the glimpses of her remarkable life that it offers us. She was a woman, and one of the few who is an acclaimed poet. It is surprising for me to read her poetry, her poems and life provide an intriguing exception to some of the prejudices and impressions that we have of women’s roles in the past.
Poems on warfare
Avvaiyar’s poems describe the rich taste of meat, liquor and are full of descriptions of warfare. Many of her poems are martial in nature, describing her patron’s prowess at war, his feats and strength on the battlefield. She compares Athiyaman, in one poem, to a crocodile in shallow waters where children play, but who can kill an elephant; suggesting that he is both fierce and gentle — ferocious when it comes to his rivals, but a benevolent ruler to his subjects.
But, Avvaiyar was more than a poet; she was also involved in the regional politics of her time, in matters of war and peace. Some of her poems, preserved in Purananuru, are an evidence of this involvement.
Adhiyaman Neduman Anji, who trusted and greatly respected Avvaiyar not merely for her poetry, but also for her wisdom and judgment, appointed her as a duta , an envoy, to the court of the Tondaiman at Kanchi, to avert war.
Tondaiman of Kanchi takes Avvaiyar to his well-stocked armoury, to show off all his weapons of war. Avvaiyar responds to this with a poem that on the surface appears to flatter Tondaiman, but in fact conceals a clever barb. She praises Tondaiman’s beautiful, strong, shining weapons — but remarks that her king’s weapons are broken, having pierced their enemies, and are found in the blacksmith’s sheds — suggesting that Athiyaman’s weapons have often seen battle, and are in constant use.
She might have been a woman, but Avvaiyar uses her words in place of weapons, and returns home triumphant — Tondaiman is impressed by her words, and war and bloodshed are averted.
But the most touching story about Avvaiyar and her patron is found in another poem in Purunanuru. In one poem Avvaiyar berates her patron when he is slow to give her a gift, while other poems praise his generosity — he gives her new clothes, good food, and toddy.
But the greatest gift he gives her is the rare nelli (amla) fruit, plucked from the top of a mountain, which confers immortality, or at least, a very long life, on the one who eats it. Athiyaman does not keep this fruit for himself, but gives it instead to his poetess.
Not only does it strike me that this gift is a generous one — but Athiyaman’s own legend and fame have survived through the immortal words of Avvaiyar.
The writer is the author of ‘The Mahabharatha — A Child’s View’; ‘Sita’s Ramayana’ and ‘The Missing Queen’
