A burst in the vegetation strikes you refreshingly as you reach Tiruvarur, lending this stretch of the lower Cauvery belt particularly green looks. It can’t be mere coincidence that one of the world’s most noble art forms gained colour in this verdant part of central Tamil Nadu. In fact, the entire trinity of Carnatic music hails from Tiruvarur. Saint Thyagaraja, Muthuswamy Dikshitar and Shyama Shastri lived here a couple of centuries ago.
The 163rd Thyagaraja Aradhanai just got over. On January 6, scores of classical musicians — vocalists, instrumentalists and percussionists — of varied calibre and age gathered at Tiruvaiyaru in this district to pay tribute to the saint-composer (1767-1847) by presenting his Pancharatna compositions. Once the reverberation gets over, this sylvan village gets back to its good old stillness.
And the routine goes off well. At Thyagaraja’s house, the room he was born, is maintained well — thanks to the Kanchi Kamakoti Peetha Karnataka Sangeetha Seva Trust that is responsible for the up-keep of the birthplaces of the trinity. There you see daily pooja being offered amid elaborate rituals, and a bust of the saint-composer occupying a place of pride. The entire house is well maintained, and is open to the public from dawn to late into the night. S Swaminathan, who has been looking after the house for 15 years now, doubles up as an enthusiastic and informed guide.
Says V Balasubramanian, one of the trustees: “We conduct the Jayanthis of all three according to the Hindu calendar, and daily worship is offered in the three places.”
But there’s something particularly grim about the neighbourhood. That is because of the sight of the samadhi of Bangalore Nagarathnamma (1878-1952), a Devadasi and an ardent devotee of Thyagaraja who was singularly responsible for building the Thyagaraja landmark this famous. Mounds of stinking cow-dung heaps surround that spot. Kunnukudi Sreenivasan, managing trustee of the Vidyasundari Bangalore Nagarathanamma Trust, concedes that the maintenance leaves much to be desired. “We plan to begin construction work for the Kumbabhishekam of the samadhi,” he says.
The silver lining, though, is that the temple here comes alive in the early hours of every morning, with elaborate worship. Thiagaraja Sarma, being the fifth generation of the composer’s descendents, holds the reins of priesthood. Raju Srinivasan, his assistant, again doubles up as a guide even as the family playing host to scores of visitors on a daily basis.
Not far away, at Tiruvarur, the Muthuswamy Dikshitar Mantapam has been reconstructed. The house looks better today, but it doesn’t stick to a fixed schedule for the public to enter its premises. The caretaker needs to be summoned for somebody to visit the interiors. Inside, the hall is musty and untidy. The roof leaks, and pools of monsoon water collect on the floor. It would be hard to believe this is the place that plays host to the annual Diskhitar Jayanthi in the summer months of April-May. But custodian Seetha Raman puts across his point: “Dikshitar is worshipped here every day with rituals.” You, nonetheless, see no cleaned-up corner, even the wick of an oil lamp or the petal of a dry flower.
There is a redeeming feature, though, at the Tiruvarur temple complex, where Dikshitar (1775-1835) used to worship Kamalambal, a deity of tantric significance and where he composed the famous Kamalamba Navavarna kritis. Its ambience retains a certain serenity.
Close by, the birthplace of Shyama Sastri (1762-1827) has been renovated. But it remains locked when the caretaker out of town. That is, there is none else in charge in his absence. The garish paint splashed on the structure contrasts bewilderingly with the soberly soulful kritis Shyama Shastri composed during his lifetime.
If his birthplace wears an abandoned look, Thanjavur’s Bangaru Kamakshi Temple, where Shyama Shastri was a priest and composed most of his songs in praise of the Goddess, presents a completely contrasting scene. Yet one can’t call it encouraging. The sanctity of the whole precincts is lost in the milling crowds and cacophony of noise. The place is littered with paper plates and cups left by devotees. The smell of the cow-dung from cowshed the temple houses overbearing.
Leading back from this temple is the agraharam where Shyama Shastri’s house still stands. “The house remains in its original form,” says Vishala, the sister of S Raja, the sixth generation of Shastri’s descendents. “The puja rituals are conducted in the place where he used to worship.” The house is kept spotlessly clean, and visitors stream in through the day. The Sri Vidya Puja that Shyama Shastri performed for several hours daily is a tradition being carried out by Raja in Chennai, where the original utensils of the rituals and idols of the composer also find place.
Evidently, a visit to the trinity-related places is a sweet-and-sour experience.
— jyothi@expressbuzz.com
