Ponniyin Selvan- Part 5- The Zenith Of Sacrifice by Kalki Krishnamurthy

Author:Kalki Krishnamurthy [Krishnamurthy, Kalki & Krishnamurthy, Kalki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zero Degree Publishing
Published: 2022-11-05T16:00:00+00:00

[Narayana is the only Lord

Him we shall ever adore!]

Azhwarrkadiyaan launched into an ardent song, sending Ravidasan into peals of laughter.

“Why, Vaishnavane! Isn’t Lord Paramasivan a divinity, too?” asked Ravidasan, chuckling. “Will we be denied entry to paramapadam if we venerate Paramasivan?”

“Paramasivan is the god who destroys!” replied Azhwarkkadiyaan with animated gestures. “Narayanan is the god who protects. Have you forgotten how our Narayanamurthy saved a poor elephant caught in the jaws of a crocodile?”

“Appane, the same Vishnu bhagavan who saved the elephant also killed the crocodile, did he not?” countered Ravidasan with a grin. “Ravanan, Kumbakarnan, Hiranyakshan, Hiranyakashipu, Sisupalan, Danthavikkran - didn’t He destroy every single one of these people?”

“Even those who meet their end at the hands of our Perumal attain Sri Vaikuntam,” said Azhwarkkadiyaan piously. “Hiranyan, Ravanan, Sispualan - Bhagavan gave them all a place in Vaikuntam! On the other hand, your Paramasivan annihilated the entire population of Tripura. Did He grant them all deliverance?””

“Alright, alright. That’s enough of your tales,” replied Ravidasan, narrowing his eyes. It was beginning to dawn on him that this conversation would carry on endlessly if enabled. “Let us see if your Narayanan comes to your rescue!” He raised the short staff high above his head, preparing to land a deathblow upon the Veera Vaishnavar.

Poonguzhali made ready to go to Azhwarkkadiyaan’s aid. She had already unsheathed the dagger by the side of her hip when she saw a woman running towards them from the mountain cave, her long, loose tresses streaming in the wind. Poonguzhali thought it was her athai Mandhakini at first glance; she stopped dead, forgetting to even breathe. “No,” she thought, with a jarring flash of insight. “No, this is the Pazhuvoor Rani Nandhini!”

By the time Poonguzhali recovered from the shock, Nandhini had already drawn close to Azhwarkkadiyaan. She caught hold of Ravidasan’s raised staff with both her hands.

“No! Do not harm my brother!” cried Nandhini in terror. “Ravidasa! If I truly am your queen, you will put the staff down!”

“I thank you for your concern, sister,” cut in Azhwarkkadiyaan, sounding unperturbed. “But truly, these people could not have hurt me. Narayanamurthy, the Lord that I worship with all my heart and soul, would have protected me from harm.”

Ravidasan chortled. “And exactly how would Narayanamurthy have saved you?” he jeered. “Would he have popped out of this tree, perhaps, like the time he emerged from a pillar to save Prahalathan?”

Azhwarkkadiyaan studied Ravidasan as he stood smirking. “Mandhiravadhi! Don’t you believe what I say? Alright, then!” he declared, his voice taking on an imperious edge. “Look at that Ayyanar temple that stands a short distance away! You can see the three horses that stand in front of that shrine, can’t you? By the grace of divine Sriman Narayanan, those horses of clay shall come to life! Soldiers shall ride upon them towards us, bearing spears in their hands. They will clap you in chains and save me from danger!”

As Azhwarkkadiyan made this astonishing speech, everyone followed his pointing finger. They stood

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