On the banks of the Vaigai River, time has frozen, in bliss. The privileged past of Tamil Nadu laid bare a treasure trove: fleets of antediluvian wooden boats that flitted across the solemn river; Arab horses, gold ornaments, and Roman sweet wine that came aboard from faraway trade centres; spices, cotton garments, ivory, pearls, and precious stones that they carried back home. The kings, belonging to the three mighty dynasties, ran the length and breadth of the state in pursuit of wealth and power, vanquishing enemies in endless battles.
In these post-truth times, the 2000-year-old wonders excavated from the sleepy Keezhadi village and 40 other locations have firmly brought to life an ancient civilisation that lived merrily here, dating back to the sixth century BC. Much to the chagrin of the self-appointed gatekeepers of Indian history. The possible link between the scripts of the Indus Valley Civilisation and Tamil Brahmi established later has led to an inevitable tug of war. In the newly-built museum at Keezhadi, barely a half-hour drive from Madurai, you marvel at the Sangam Age antiquities that are on display. As you walk through the museum’s labyrinths, one’s heart swells with pride.
Not far away, the Tranquebar-Poompuhar region revelled in equal measure before it was ruined by the wrath of Indra. Nobody disputes that Tamil Nadu is built over its buried past. The glorious past that helped it storm to the top of the table in present-day political sweepstakes. Every excavation revealed the rich Tamil legacy and cultural heritage that coexisted on this land. The deeper you dig, the more you get exposed to the resilient pillars of language, art, music, and customs that shaped the soul of Tamil identity.
History cannot erase the sway of Pandyas, Cheras, and Cholas; their bloody battles for supremacy are part of Tamil folklore. Yet, their role in fostering local art, architecture, and literature is as tall as Srirangam Temple’s Rajagopuram. Hundreds of exquisite temples and forts stand witness to the bygone era. The legend of Kovalan, the merchant, and his devoted wife Kannagi, who was enraged by the beheading of her husband by the Pandyan king of Madurai, too, lives on, triumphantly.
Art and cinema have performed in contrapuntal harmony with an aim to furthering the society’s socio-political growth, ideologies having resolutely rooted in equality and equanimity. The state has also seen bold experiments in fusing Carnatic music with folk songs and vociferously established that there is no room for bigotry in society. “Ellaame Sangeetham Thaan” (Everything is music) rings in with a conviction.
Everyone knows that we are an enormously rich state. What is vital is that the income is being distributed quite evenly, unlike in other rich states such as Maharashtra and Gujarat. Years-long efforts at achieving social justice reflect in the state’s far lower Gini coefficient and higher per capita spending (minister Palanivel Thiaga Rajan revealed it to me in an interview in 2021). It is an unfinished agenda, though. The state’s growth in economy, education, and health is a model for other states to emulate. As we gear up for the trillion-dollar dream, one would hope to see the vicious faultlines of caste being punched out with equal force, constructing another paradigm for the rest of India to follow.
Tamil language and the culture have stood the ebb and flow of time. Tumult to saffronise Thiruvalluvar have ended in a whimper and the revered Thirukkural has lived through generations. No invader can ever wreck the distinct socio-cultural identity of Tamil. It is built over centuries-old foundation and will continue to thrive for centuries more.