Tiruppavai pasuram 26

Tiruppāvai – Pāsuram 26

Āṇḍāḷ

Preamble – Taking Off from Pāsurams 23, 24, and 25

From Pāsuram 23, Āṇḍāḷ brings KRISHNA out of repose — awakening Him not merely from sleep, but into His royal and cosmic role, asking Him to emerge like a lion and take His seat on the throne.

In Pāsuram 24, once KRISHNA is envisioned as seated, Āṇḍāḷ and the gopīs pour forth mangalāsāsanam — blessings upon His feet, His valour, His fame, His anklets, and His compassion, recalling His acts as Vāmana, Rāma, and Gopāla. The Lord is praised not to compel Him, but because love cannot remain silent.

In Pāsuram 25, the focus narrows to KRISHNA’s janma-rahasya — His birth, concealment, growth, and the inner burning of Kaṁsa. The gopīs declare openly that they have come seeking Him, not merely a boon.

Now, in Pāsuram 26, something decisive happens.

Āṇḍāḷ no longer narrates about KRISHNA.

She speaks to KRISHNA directly, in full intimacy and full confidence.

This pāsuram is not preparatory.

It is declarative.

Pāsuram 26 – Text, Transliteration, and Explanation

மாலே! மணிவண்ணா! மார்கழி நீராடுவான்

மேலையார் செய்வனகள் வேண்டுவன கேட்டியேல்

Transliteration

Mālē! Maṇivaṇṇā! Mārgaḻi nīrāḍuvān

Mēlaiyār seyvangaḷ vēṇḍuvana kēṭṭiyēl

Explanation

Āṇḍāḷ opens with direct address, and every word here is loaded.

Mālē invokes KRISHNA as the Supreme — vast, overwhelming, all-pervading, and also the one who bewilders the heart with love.

Maṇivaṇṇā is not a colour-description. This is the beloved name used by Periyāzhvār in Tiruppallāṇḍu, spoken while blessing and protecting the Lord. By using it here, Āṇḍāḷ consciously places herself in that lineage of intimate devotion.

By invoking Mārgaḻi nīrāḍu, she anchors the scene in discipline and tradition, but the tone is no longer one of effort. It is one of assurance.

“If You ask what the elders desire” — this is striking. The Lord is portrayed not as commanding, but as listening.

Āṇḍāḷ speaks as one who already stands within accepted devotion.

ஞாலத்தை எல்லாம் நடுங்க முரல்வன

பாலன்ன வண்ணத்து உன் பாஞ்சசன்னியமே

Transliteration

Ñālaththai ellām naḍuṅga muralvana

Pālanna vaṇṇaththu un pāñchasanniyamē

Explanation

Āṇḍāḷ now introduces sound, the first public sign of sovereignty.

The Pāñcajanyam, KRISHNA’s conch, is described as causing all the worlds to tremble.

Its milk-white colour signifies purity, auspiciousness, and sattva.

This is not martial imagery. The conch does not destroy; it announces.

In royal tradition, no king appears in silence.

The sound precedes the presence.

Here, sound represents awakening — spiritual, cosmic, and collective.

போல்வன சங்கங்கள் போய்ப்பாடுடையனவே

சாலப் பெரும்பறையே பல்லாண்டு இசைப்பாரே

Transliteration

Pōlvana saṅgaṅgaḷ pōyppāḍu uḍaiyanavē

Sālap perum paṟaiyē pallāṇḍu isaippārē

Explanation

The singular becomes plural.

From one divine conch, Āṇḍāḷ moves to many conches — devotion spreading outward.

The sound is no longer confined to KRISHNA alone; devotees echo it.

The perum paṟai is not a small reward.

It signifies a great, enduring proclamation.

The word pallāṇḍu unmistakably recalls Periyāzhvār again — blessing the Lord out of love, not fear. This is devotion confident enough to protect God.

கோல விளக்கே கொடியே விதானமே

ஆலின் இலையாய் அருளேலோர் எம்பாவாய்

Transliteration

Kōla viḷakkē koḍiyē vidhānamē

Ālin ilaiyāy aruḷēlōr empāvāy

Explanation

Āṇḍāḷ now completes the royal vision:

Lamp (vilakku) — illumination, guidance, presence

Flag (kodi) — identity, allegiance, visible sovereignty

Canopy (vidhānam) — protection, dignity, unquestioned authority

These are not requests for objects.

They are recognitions of what already exists around KRISHNA.

The sudden turn to Ālin ilaiyāy — the Lord resting on a banyan leaf during cosmic dissolution — shifts the frame entirely.

KRISHNA’s sovereignty does not begin with coronation.

It precedes creation itself.

The final plea — aruḷ — is trust, not negotiation.

Expanded Integrated Summary (Essay-Style)

Pāsuram 26 stands at a unique point in Tiruppāvai. The seeking has ended; recognition has begun. Āṇḍāḷ no longer asks KRISHNA to reveal Himself. She speaks as one who has already seen, already known, already belonged.

By addressing Him as Mālē! Maṇivaṇṇā!, she unites two dimensions — the cosmic Lord who overwhelms the universe, and the intimate KRISHNA whom Periyāzhvār once blessed with trembling love in Tiruppallāṇḍu. This is not poetry for ornamentation; it is poetry of inheritance and belonging.

Every symbol in this pāsuram is royal — conch, drum, lamp, flag, canopy — yet none are demanded as gifts. Āṇḍāḷ recognizes that they have always surrounded KRISHNA. His conch already awakens the worlds; His presence already illuminates; His identity is already proclaimed; His protection has always existed — from the midnight journey under Ādiśeṣa’s hoods to the banyan leaf beyond dissolution.

The genius of this pāsuram lies in its reversal. Instead of asking what KRISHNA will give, Āṇḍāḷ shows what devotion already contains. The parai is not an object to be handed over; it is the rhythm of surrender already beating in the devotees’ voices. The conch is not blown from outside; it sounds through the Lord’s own breath and through the devotion He inspires.

By ending with Ālin ilaiyāy, Āṇḍāḷ reminds us that KRISHNA was never crowned because He was never uncrowned. His throne exists before time, beyond time, and devotion’s role is not to install Him, but to recognize Him and take its place joyfully within His order.

From here onward, Tiruppāvai changes tone. The asking gives way to intimacy. The discipline gives way to confidence. The devotee no longer seeks entry; she speaks from within.

Andal Tiruvadigale Sharanam 

We take refuge at the sacred feet of Andal