A story is performed each year around Kartikai Ekadasi in the temple town of Thirukkurungudi, over 70 km from Thoothukudi, by dancer Anita Ratnam’s Arangham Trust. Kartikai Ekadasi is on December 12 this year. The story is from the Kaisiki Puranam, which I would like to retell as salutary.
There once lived a highly evolved devotee called Nambaduvaan who was born a so-called ‘outcaste’. He was a staunch devotee of Mahavishnu at Thirukkurungudi. Every night, he would walk several miles to the temple and with utmost devotion stand before the Lord and sing many hymns in his praise. He would quietly leave before dawn. This continued unnoticed for almost 10 years.
One year, he set out as usual with an extra spring in his step to sing to the Lord on the holy occasion of Kartikai Ekadashi. Picking his way to the temple, he was suddenly waylaid by a brahmarakshasa. The demon was about to gobble him up when Nambaduvaan pleaded pitifully with it to let him have a last darshan of the Lord. He promised to come back to the brahmarakshasa after that. The rakshasa refused to believe him. “Who comes back to die?” it scoffed, nor was it so foolish as to let go of a handy dinner.
But Nambaduvaan pleaded earnestly with the rakshasha to allow him sing in praise of the Lord one last time in the temple. He promised to come back in the morning for the demon’s breakfast. Though the demon continued to laugh scornfully, Nambaduvaan kept pleading. Finally, he said that 18 terrible sins would accrue to him if he failed to keep his word. He described the sins in great detail and their consequences. The 18th sin was the worst and the one he dreaded the most.
Said Nambaaduvaan, trembling at the thought, “If I equate Lord Vishnu with anyone, I will have committed the gravest sin. I will never get moksha and be liberated from the cycle of birth and death.”
This bold statement greatly impressed the rakshasa. “I think I’ll believe you after all,” it conceded and let Nambaduvaan go, saying it would wait for him right where it was. The devotee hurried to the temple and sang his heart out to the Lord. He thanked God for letting him sing in his praise for many years. This is a deep tenet of Indian belief across communities and regions—gratitude to God for the connection, saying “Thank you for letting me become aware of You, it nourishes my life.”
Come dawn, Nambaduvaan saluted the Lord one last time and set forth to where the rakshasa waited. But an old man suddenly appeared in his path and asked him where he was headed to in such a hurry. Nambaduvaan explained the situation, to which the old man suggested he take a different path to evade the rakshasa. “But I promised. And I cannot bear to lose God’s favour because I have been dishonest,” said Nambaduvaan.
“But you are wholly entitled to save your life,” assured the old man, most reasonably. “Not in this case, when I have promised in God’s name,” said Nambaduvaan. “Life must end someday. I cannot bear to live by dishonouring the name of He whom I have loved with all my heart and soul.”
At this point, we are reminded of staunch old Avvaiyaar, who had a vision that saint Sundarar was proceeding to Mount Kailash with his friend King Cheraman. Avvai was then in the middle of worshipping her beloved Ganesha, whom she had adored from babyhood. Sundarar invited Avvai to come with them.
Avvai was sorely tempted for a moment. Who would not ardently desire a chance to go to holy Kailash? But as with Nambaduvaan, her sense of ethics and etiquette proved stronger. A puja or commitment can’t be abandoned just because something tempting came along. Avvai was not a shallow, superficial person. She declined the saint’s kind invitation. Instead, she completed her puja with utmost fervor, which threw her into a trance.
In that state, she composed a blank verse poem on Ganesha that is still chanted a millennium later. This is the Vinayaka Agaval in which she says to Ganesha, “You appeared like a mother to me and severed my illusory earthly bonds.” Ganesha was so pleased that he put her on Kailash even before her friends arrived, much to their amazement.
To go back to Nambaduvaan, the old man was none other than Mahavishnu, who was immensely pleased with his sincere devotee and blessed him. Nambaduvaan returned to the rakshasa where a miracle awaited him. The demon was shocked by his calm compliance. It fell at Nambaduvaan’s feet and begged him to part with the punya or merit he had acquired by singing for the Lord. It humbly asked for the punya from at least one song.
This request sprang from the deep cultural belief across India that music comprises all nine devotions to God. They are shravanam (listening to God’s name), kirtanam (singing about God), smaranam (remembering God always), pada sevanam (service to God by serving others), archana (puja), vandanam (saluting God humbly), daasyam (doing tasks for God, in His cause), sakhyam (being friends with God) and atma nivedanam (surrendering oneself wholly to God).
The rakshasa wept that it had been an arrogant priest in its last birth, cursed to become a demon in his next life. Nambaduvaan’s big heart was touched. He prayed to Mahavishnu to take pity on this sinner, who regained human form thanks to Nambaduvaan’s intercession. And Nambaduvaan’s generosity and high moral character are celebrated to this day.
Renuka Narayanan
(Views are personal)
(shebaba09@gmail.com)