The Rainbow Hymn of Yaṅgaḷalaṇvī

I recently finished one of my latest metrical compositions, a stuti (a hymn of praise) expounding the glories of the goddess Aṇvī (also known as Aśōkasundari). She is the daughter of Śiva and Pārvati, and is most popular in South India in the form of Bālatripurasundari. She is rather obscure that way, and out of personal devotion, I composed this poem dedicated to her. The name aṇvī is derived from the Sanskrit word aṇu, meaning “extremely small” or “subtle”. The name then means “the subtle one”, and originally referred to fingers which extract soma from the soma plant.

Aśōkasundari as Bālatripurasundari

Though stutis are often in Sanskrit, this one is written in Sankethi! It’s my heritage tongue, though I write in a rather unique version I call samyuktõ. In my work there are a variety of loanwords from Mandarin, Balinese and other languages mixed in, reflecting my interests in language and literature from a variety of places. Sankethi itself breaks many rules in conventional South Asian language poetry, one of which is creating compound words from Sanskrit and Dravidian roots together. In that way, I feel samyuktõ is representative of the language’s heritage and history.

Yaṅgaḷalaṇvī is the primary form of the goddess in this poem, where yaṅgaḷalɨ is a Balinese loan into Sankethi meaning “rainbow”. Hence, her name refers to the many colors on her hands, which I use as a thematic device to explore her various acts and theology. This includes her various names, all of which are bolded in the poem (as is my pen name, Tīrajapāda).

The meters I’ve used here are also unique, since I created them myself! My meters are usually measured by the length of vowels as the basic unit of measure (mātriku), or the arrangement of half and whole mātras (samyuktõ). The latter combines the gaṇa and mātra systems, because 2–3 consonant clusters are rather common in Sankethi, which does not lend itself to the strict balance of laghu and guru syllables of the gaṇa system. Instead, samyuktõ meters are structured around the rhythm of short and long vowels.

In total, there are three different meters used throughout the poem, marking the opening and closing stanzas, and the two seven-stanza sections in between them. It’s all quite experimental, and I enjoy every second of it! I’ve made the original Sankethi poem available with meter and rhyme information, as well as the romanized text, available here to read. Of course, please do not share this poem without attribution.

With that, here’s the poem, translated into English:

Dwelling on the hands of the goddess of the Bhairavi Cakra
I witness color merge with light, seasons with tastes
She who has taken the ocean, sky and earth in Her hand
I worship Śrī Yaṅgaḷalaṇvī, the heart-jewel of Gauri

Her fingers stained with blood-red like pomegranates
Form mudras with the left and right hands
The cause of creation, the world and all beings
Is the tāṇḍava and lāsya of Nartanarāṇi

Gathering the saffron flowers from the fields
The Goddess takes the flower’s humble strands
Soaking them in water; so the nectar of truth gleams
The radiant prasāda of Tējasvini

Effortlessly taking haḷadi
She mixes sandalwood and water
Smearing the face with manjaḷ
Cakrarāja bestows beauty within

See the numerous verdant plants
In Her hands as the gift of medicine
The perfection and abundance of the earth,
Tāriṇi heals the body and mind

In Her hands is the color of ocean, rain and sky
In Her blue tilaka all anguish is dissolved
Bearing the ātman are the left and right hands
That Paluṅatma, born of serenity and strength

Raising the moon high in the sky
Her hands bring out colors of the night
The light of the moon and indigo dye
Śyāmala is the ultimate bliss within

Her hands formed in the lotus mudra
Are colored violet like royal silk
The beacon of infinite imagination
Śrīprajña is the supreme yōgini

As the jewel-like moon casts its rays of light
So she is the spark of Lalitā’s heart
Ever united and enlivening the world
Aśōkasundari is the destroyer of grief

Where sunset clouds and morning rays meet
The goddess appears as the center of the three worlds
In the wondrous sight of the twilit sky
The sun, moon and stars are the crown jewels of Ubhaya

No difference among colors is absolute
All becoming one in the arch of the sky
Gathered in Her great maṇḍala
Devotees are equal before Bilvamālini

As there is no parting of black and white
No one ever parts from the Way, which covers the world
Wallowing in ignorance, not knowing
The Way is belonging, belonging is Iraiva

Like witnessing a flash of lightning over the earth
The seven colors shine together like a diamond
All creation is in enveloped in consciousness, truly
In Vajrapāṇi, the insuperable ātman

The seven colors mixed together into one
Gathering like a rain cloud full of rain
Within letters and script is the supreme ink of creation
Of the abundantly creative, imperishable Ūmyakartri

A plum blossom on the tree of consciousness
She and her acts are the Lord and Grace alike
Pervading the darkness with Her luminous Self
Śivāmṛta is indeed the pulse of freedom

Tīrajapāda so worships Śrī Yaṅgaḷalaṇvī
In the union of color and light, where chains turn to bonds
In the storm of suffering, that truth reflected in raindrops
The abundance hidden in the clouds, Aṇvī, is Paramātma