This poem is based on an ancient legend where Lord Shiva takes the form of a mother and midwife to assist his devotee.
'Thayumanavar' translates as 'One who became mother'.
River Cauvery swelling its girth,
Bubbled, overflowed with joyful mirth.
The tide soon began to rise,
Waves crashed, gigantic size.
Streaks of lightning, a trail of stains,
The cloud burst open in torrents of rain.
Ratnavati waited for her mother in vain,
Stiffening as she felt spasms of pain.
Her baby from the womb could come any time,
She well recognised the imminent signs.
Her mother lived across the river,
'Would she come in time..?' The thought made her shiver.
It would be long before the flood abated,
Utterly helpless she felt as she waited.
Ratnavati closed her eyes and prayed,
Called to Lord Shiva to come to her aid.
"I am your child, pay heed to me,
May my child in the womb in safety be.
I surrender to you, my compassionate lord,
In you I place my life, my all."
Seized by pain she could hardly bear,
"Lord help me!" she pleaded.. her cries rent the air.
Beside her stood her mother's frail form,
She cradled her head and rubbed her hands warm.
In hushed whispers, she assuaged her fears,
With her saree 'pallav', she dried her tears.
The pain subsided, the writhings ceased,
Her mother tenderly assisted the baby to feed...
Dawn peeped through the darkened sky,
Seemed to smile when she heard the baby's cry.
Ratnavati's mother hurried in,
Worry writ large on her wrinkled skin.
"Thank the Lord you are safe and the baby too!
It was impossible to cross the river and reach you!"
"Who then was beside me,
Tending to my every need?
Lord Shiva it was you, I did not see...
You soothed my womb, you held my palm,
You eased my pain, you brought me calm.
Nurtured me with loving care,
I revelled, totally unaware!
How blessed am I, protected by none other
Than Shiva, my divine mother, my 'thayumanavar'."
Footnotes
-----------
Pallav - The loose end of a saree.
'Thayumanavar' translates as 'One who became mother'.
Bubbled, overflowed with joyful mirth.
The tide soon began to rise,
Waves crashed, gigantic size.
Streaks of lightning, a trail of stains,
The cloud burst open in torrents of rain.
Ratnavati waited for her mother in vain,
Stiffening as she felt spasms of pain.
Her baby from the womb could come any time,
She well recognised the imminent signs.
Her mother lived across the river,
'Would she come in time..?' The thought made her shiver.
It would be long before the flood abated,
Utterly helpless she felt as she waited.
Ratnavati closed her eyes and prayed,
Called to Lord Shiva to come to her aid.
"I am your child, pay heed to me,
May my child in the womb in safety be.
I surrender to you, my compassionate lord,
In you I place my life, my all."
Seized by pain she could hardly bear,
"Lord help me!" she pleaded.. her cries rent the air.
Beside her stood her mother's frail form,
She cradled her head and rubbed her hands warm.
In hushed whispers, she assuaged her fears,
With her saree 'pallav', she dried her tears.
The pain subsided, the writhings ceased,
Her mother tenderly assisted the baby to feed...
Dawn peeped through the darkened sky,
Seemed to smile when she heard the baby's cry.
Ratnavati's mother hurried in,
Worry writ large on her wrinkled skin.
"Thank the Lord you are safe and the baby too!
It was impossible to cross the river and reach you!"
"Who then was beside me,
Tending to my every need?
Lord Shiva it was you, I did not see...
You soothed my womb, you held my palm,
You eased my pain, you brought me calm.
Nurtured me with loving care,
I revelled, totally unaware!
How blessed am I, protected by none other
Than Shiva, my divine mother, my 'thayumanavar'."
Footnotes
-----------
Pallav - The loose end of a saree.
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