I don’t know what it is that attracts me to this land, Tamil Nadu. Perhaps it’s my knowledge of a bit of the language and a little of the culture (which grew while I lived here). Perhaps it’s from the time I lived in Kovai and Bangalore, and the proximity to Tamil Nadu and its beautiful landscapes and towns. Perhaps it’s because of my ethnic and familial connection to this place, of listening to my family tell tales about their own childhood times here, conversations with cousins and other relatives. Perhaps it’s that when I was here, I was completely at peace, in love with my surroundings, with the freedom I had to explore endlessly. Here, I’ve driven the Joey car for thousands of kilometers to visit temples, explore beaches, and climb mountains…. seeing the land my foremothers are from. I’ve jumped into rivers and lakes for cooling off in the afternoons, or just because I was driving by. I’ve guided friends to enjoy the gorgeous nature of this area. I’ve chanced upon little nooks and crannies, found amazing places to stay, and learned about the historical, political, and cultural aspects here. Maybe everything combined created a sense of euphoria. I can’t figure it out. But one of my first poems after arriving here was about Tamil Nadu, and how I relate to it.
Tamil Nadu to Naan
Oh land of my foremothers,
You capture me in Coimbatore,
made me a prisoner of your land
to learn to live,
to learn to love.
Teach me the language of your land:
Ancient sounds of the Dravids;
Teach me the ways of your cultures,
Your arts, your musics, your cloths;
Teach me to love in free abandon,
To love in selflessness,
Like the women before me.
Let me linger on
your blazing beaches
along the Bay of Bengal
From the soft sands of Mammalapuram
to the mangroves of Pichavaram
and the fishing nets of Tutukudi,
cruising the coastlines
upto your apex:
Kissing Kerala at Kanyakumari.
Let me meander through
your mountainsides
butting into Malayali mists
from Kotagiri to Kodaikanal
Exploring the mysterious madais
Where elephants trample over
miniscule and meager minions.
Let me travel to
your towering temples
of Tanjore’s dynasties;
To Muruga’s malais
and Kumbakonam’s kingdom of heaven:
Navagraha nests nearing one to Nirvana.
Let me cool off
in Kovai
Where the weather never
withers or wets or wears
you down.
A serene spot
with open-petaled yellow shenbagams
and scented mallis and mulais.
Let me listen
to your sounds:
Your colorfully feathered emerald dove
enroute Moyar to Masinagudi;
Your peruchaalis, pilfering paddies
in the mask of midnight;
Unique noises of the Nilgiris,
Like the Tahr, Marten, and Langur.
Let me meet your men
rowing rounded vessels
in local lakes and rivers,
casting their nets to
catch their day’s keep.
Let me watch your women
in colorful cottons:
Chunguddis of Chinnalapatti,
Rollings their R’s
roaring with laughter
Painting pulli-kolams of arisi-maavu
then trekking to temples
in the dawns of December.
Let me learn from you,
Take from you,
All that you offer, Tamil Nadu:
An opportunity to understand
The women before me.