Andal's Tiruppavai
Śrī Viṣṇu-kula-nandana kalpa-vallīm
Śrī Raṅga-rāja-hari-candana-yoga-dṛśyām
Sākṣāt kṣamām karuṇayā Kamalām ivānyām
Gōdām ananya-śaraṇaḥ śaraṇaṁ prapadyē
Añcu kuḍikku oru santatiyāy āḻvārgaḷ
tam seyalai viñci niṟkum tanmaiyaḷāy piñcāy
paḻuttāḷai āṇḍāḷai bhaktiyuḍan nāḷum
vaḻuttāy manamē magiḻndu
How bhakti became a living experience
Every Margazhi, Tiruppavai returns to our lives—not as a text to be studied, but as a presence to be lived with. Before we speak of its poetry, its structure, or its philosophy, we must pause before the one who gave it to us, Andal.
Andal is unlike any other saint in the Tamil bhakti tradition. She does not stand apart from devotion and describe it. She enters it, lives it, and draws us in with her. In her, devotion is not an abstract idea—it is longing, joy, discipline, impatience, surrender, and love, all at once.
According to tradition, Andal appeared as a child beneath a tulasi plant in Srivilliputhur, discovered by the saint Periyazhwar, who raised her as his own. From childhood, she grew up hearing nothing but the names, deeds, and play of Krishna, his childhood in Vrindavan, his tenderness, his mischief, his compassion, and his protection of those who sought him.
It is therefore natural that Andal’s heart turned fully toward Krishna, not the distant cosmic lord alone, but the intimate, accessible, beloved Krishna of the gopis.
One incident defines her forever. Periyazhwar would weave garlands daily for the Lord of Srivilliputhur. Andal, drawn by devotion, once wore the garland herself before it was offered. When her father discovered this, he was distressed and prepared a fresh garland instead. But the Lord refused it. He desired only the garland worn by Andal.
From that moment, she became Choodikodutha Sudarkodi, the radiant creeper who first wore the garland and then offered it to the Lord. This single act tells us everything about Andal. Her devotion was not cautious. It was intimate. Fearless. Personal.
Tiruppavai arises from this spirit.
During Margazhi, Andal undertakes the Paavai Nombu, a sacred vow, and through thirty verses she invites her companions, and through them, all of us to rise before dawn, bathe, sing together, give up excess, and turn our hearts toward Krishna. Yet Tiruppavai is not merely a ritual manual. It is a journey. A movement from waking to seeking, from seeking to surrender.
What makes Andal extraordinary is that she never separates poetry from practice, emotion from discipline, or devotion from daily life. In her verses, village sounds become sacred music, friendship becomes theology, and longing becomes the path to liberation.
This blog series is not meant to analyze Tiruppavai verse by verse as a scholar might. Instead, it is an attempt to walk alongside Andal, to listen to her voice during Margazhi, and to reflect on how her devotion still speaks quietly but insistently to anyone willing to listen.
In the coming posts, we will explore Andal’s relationship with Krishna, the pastoral world she inhabits, the movement of the Tiruppavai pasurams, and moments where her poetry reveals depths that unfold only when we pause and stay with them.
For now, let us begin where all journeys with Andal must begin with wonder, humility, and love.
Andal Tiruvadigale Sharanam
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