Saint Tayumanavar
Tayumanavar
gazes upward in blissful wonder, beholding Lord
Siva’s presence in the vast, sacred stillness of cosmic
night. He sings of the Supreme as pure bliss. The tone
shifts between cosmic awe and heartfelt confession,
marveling at how easy it is to gain siddhis and how rare
it is to quiet the mind.
Introduction
Tayumanavar: The Life Sung Inward
What follows is not a conventional biography. It is an illustrated story of a remarkable life full of profound spiritual realizations. Saint Tayumanavar (1705–1742) left no autobiography in the modern sense. His life is known through his songs, through oral tradition and through the living memory of Saiva lineages that carried his realization forward. History offers only a faint outline; the rest is revealed through poetry, silence and inner transformation. This visual journey follows that inward arc. The images depicting his life are drawn from the book Tayumanavar’s Songs to Siva: The Devotional Poems of a Tamil Mystic, published by Himalayan Academy. Some scenes arise from devotional accounts. Others emerge from the symbolic language of his hymns. A few are best understood not as outer events at all, but as inner thresholds every seeker must cross. Together, they trace a movement from duty to suffering, from suffering to longing, from longing to surrender and from surrender to union. The progression presented here is not measured in years. Age shifts, expressions change and moments recur because this is not a timeline of the body, but a ripening of the soul. In Tayumanavar’s own words, the greatest power is not miracle or mastery, but the ability to remain utterly still—summa iru—until the ego dissolves and Truth stands revealed. As you move through these images and captions, you are offered a brief glimpse into his songs, some carrying profound stillness while others gently illuminate the enduring nature of the inner life. The complete work is available as a free PDF and e-pub edition through the link provided below and at the end of this page.
When an expectant mother could not reach her daughter’s side in time, Siva as
Divine Midwife helped the woman with the birth of her child. This story is the source
of Siva’s name Tayumanavar, “He who even became a mother.”
A youthful Tayumanavar rests in the loving embrace of his divine parent—Siva as
Mother, the form called “Tayumanavar,” meaning “He who became the mother.”
In this tender vision, the Lord consoles the devotee not as a distant deity but as a
caring parent who nurtures the soul with unconditional love.
While village boys played gleefully as a young Tayumanavar sits alone under a
great tree limb, eyes closed in meditation. His palm leaf texts are bundled nearby.
Even at the age of ten, his heart was drawn inward—toward Siva’s mystery
Tayumanavar’s father, a scholar and minister to the King, patiently taught his son
Sanskrit, Tamil and the basics of Saiva Siddhanta philosophy.
Beside the wild, rushing river, a young Tayumanavar sits with folded hands
before a serene sadhu clothed in white. This unexpected encounter marks the
first of many mystical souls he will meet on his journey toward the Divine.
As a youth, he studied Sanskrit and Tamil with pundits in their forest ashram.
His early language training prepared him for the profound outpouring of poetry
that became his life’s gift.
Seated on the stone floor of the royal archives, Tayumanavar meticulously records
temple expenditures and land revenues in the king’s ledgers.
In the King’s palace amidst dancers, musicians and a royal feast, Tayumanavar stands quietly
apart, his eyes closed to the pleasures around him—drawn instead to the subtle vision of Siva
that illumines the wall behind, reminding him of the only joy he truly seeks.
Tayumanavar grows weary of all the intrigue and immorality that surrounds him in the
service to the king, part of why he left.
The saint raises his hand in firm refusal, turning away the queen’s unwelcome
advances, his eyes steady with resolve as he safeguards his vow of purity.
Following the death of his wife, Tayumanavar feels unable to raise his son properly and gives him into the care of his childless brother and sister in law, freeing himself to leave the king's court and wander the countryside.
Some say Tayumanavar moved about in pure simplicity, wearing a loincloth
and, in the tradition of his day, carrying a small bundle and begging bowl. Here
a woman is sharing the family’s meal of simple rice with the itinerant mendicant.
In a quiet village, Tayumanavar receives fresh water from a young helper at a simple well, a
moment reflecting the saint’s connection with the everyday lives of the people.
Long walks across the countryside could sometimes blister even the well-worn feet
of a wandering holy man. Here, a compassionate goat herder notices Tayumanavar’s
injury and gently bandages it, while his herd grazes nearby—a quiet act of kindness
offered to a passing saint.
Our sage bathes under the healing waterfall near an ancient Siva temple at Courtallam in
Tamil Nadu. For centuries pilgrims have come to be blessed with waters that flow through the
Pothigai and Agasthya Forests. Because the water touches countless medicinal herbs before
it descends, it is believed to carry the healing power of ancient siddhars who meditated there.
Food was simple on the trail, but gathering wood and building a small fire could take
an hour. Tayumanavar’s skills for living in the open were well honed, enabling him
to prepare warmth and light for the night with practiced ease, the flames flickering
gently in the quiet dusk.
Pause here, listen to Tayumanavar’s Song
What is it that is immeasurable effulgence, perfect bliss, filled with grace? What is it that willed to contain the countless universes in boundless space and there flourishes as Life of life? What is it that stood transcending thought and word? What is it that remained as the ever-contentious object of countless faiths claiming, "This, my God," "This, our God"? What is it that exists as omnipresent and omnipotent, love-filled and eternal? What is it that knows no limits of night and day? That indeed which is agreeable to contemplation. That indeed is what fills all space in silentness. That indeed is what we in meekness worship.
Born and raised nearby, he would have often climbed the 437 steps to Lord
Ganesha’s Ucchi Pillaiyar Temple, perched atop the Rock Fort hill, its shrine
commanding sweeping views of Tiruchirappalli and the sacred Kaveri River below.
There were neither bridges nor ferries in his day, so river crossings could be difficult.
Fortunately, ropes were attached to the banks so the strong could navigate the
slippery rocks and trecherous current.
Tayumanavar joins a village festival as Lord Ganesha is carried in a wooden chariot.
Immersed in devotion, he lifts his hands in bliss while nagasvaram music fills the air.
Wherever he traveled, Tayumanavar shared fully in each community’s spiritual life,
celebrating their rituals with humility and joy.
A family shares a boat ride with our saintly sadhu across the sacred Kaveri River. Seated
together in a traditional round coracle—known locally as a “parisal” and expertly woven from
bamboo—the group marvels at the surrounding beauty as the ferryman guides their voyage.
He visited the Dharmapuram Aadheenam, one of the foremost Saiva Siddhanta
monasteries in Tamil Nadu, whose monks, like him, follow the sacred lineage of
Saint Tirumular. In the shade of its ancient halls, he engaged in deep dialogue with
the Aadheenam’s pontiff.
Tayumanavar addressed seekers from every path, embracing the many lineages of
India—not only Hindu traditions, but also Jains, Sikhs, Buddhists and others. His vision
of samarasam, or harmony, called for unity beyond sectarian boundaries, affirming the
shared quest for truth that underlies all faiths.
With hands raised above his head in reverent worship, Tayumanavar prepares to
enter the sacred Brihadeesvara Siva Temple in Tanjavur.
“Summa iru” was the soul-cry of Tayumanavar’s songs—its meaning, quiet
and profound: Be still. Here, he sits upon a red lotus, unmoving. Above him, the
turbulent sea of thought rises like a storm—but he remains untouched, silent,
serene, still as a mountain lake at dawn.
In a moment of inner clarity, Tayumanavar perceives the many disguises the
ego adopts on the spiritual path. Subtle forms of himself appear—ascetic,
scholar and devotee—each a sincere stage of striving, yet each released.
Seated in stillness, he recognizes that even spiritual effort can conceal the “I.“
Tayumanavar kneels in a burnt-out forest,
disconsolate and draped in the tattered
robes of past indulgences. Around him
lie the ashes of former pleasures—wine,
jewels, lovers. With arms outstretched,
he pleads for release. Siva, as the divine
feminine, appears to him, offering one hand
of compassion and another of purifying
fire. A single yellow flower rises from the
scorched ground—a quiet promise of grace
and renewal. In this cleansing encounter,
the poet discovers that the divine fire
which consumes also consoles, revealing
that mercy itself is the final revelation.
Were You not with me constantly as life within my body?
Canto 9 - Song # 12
Were You not with me constantly as life within my body? I who am the mind and its cognate, which is breath, were termed as material, and You as spiritual —thus did someone of yore separate us. "From the day we heard of it until this day, most unjustly You suppressed and kept us under harsh rule. By all this what have You gained"— thus the foolish mind abundently abuses You, and I to be melting in fire like wax—is this proper? In ten thousand ways I have complained to You. Yet You have not taken pity on me and conferred Your grace. How will I now be liber-ated? Pray, speak! O ocean of bliss that is cosmic light! The pervasive God of pure formlessness!
Our bard cherished solitude with Siva. Slipping into the quietest corner of a temple,
he would pour out his soul in spontaneous song. Though Siva stood before him as a
Lingam in the sanctum, Tayumanavar’s clasped hands reveal a deeper worship—his
heart turned inward, adoring the God within.
Though his songs are overhwelmingly to Siva, Tayumanavar does refer to Lord
Murugan, shown here at the Veeralimala Temple where many of his 1,452 songs
were composed.
Around Siva are gathered seekers of many faiths, each absorbed wholly in his
chosen devotion. The paths remain distinct, yet all turn toward the same Divine
Reality—named Siva by Tayumanavar, and known by other names to those who
approach Him differently.
With arms outstretched and heart aching for divine vision, Tayumanavar pleads,
“Why won’t You show Yourself to me?” Unseen by his yearning eyes, Lord Siva
stands behind him, ever compassionate, always watching over His devotee.
Tayumanavar sits in meditative stillness as his two devoted disciples, Arulayya
and Kodikkarai Jnani, lead a village gathering in singing his sacred Tamil hymns.
Their heartfelt voices carry the message of Siva consciousness to the people,
spreading the saint’s teachings through the power of song and devotion.
Tayumanavar lifts his hands in silent inquiry, gazing upward at the grace-
giving feet of Siva. Caught between longing and surrender, he waits—not
with demands, but with impatience
and trust. “Will
I see You? Will You grant me bliss?
Will You make me whole?” The poet
no longer rebukes himself, but simply
pleads for union, again and again.
The mood is intimate and prayerful,
like love songs to the Divine—full
of ache, surrender and hope.
Seated beneath a holy banyan tree, Dakshinamurti teaches without words. In His
stillness, doubts dissolve and knowing awakens. Silence itself becomes the guru,
revealing truth beyond speech, argument or ritual; wisdom is transmitted heart to heart.
Tayumanavar lifts his hands in worship of Siva in His threefold revelation: the
formless vastness of Parasivam, the Creator Lord, and Shakti, the all-pervasive
form and power. It was these three that he commonly invoked.
Tayumanavar walks through the vividly painted pillared halls of the Meenakshi
Sundaram Temple, where in early years he was an administrator overseeing the
daily pujas, processions and policies of this massive temple complex.
Presented with a fine shawl by the king, Tayumanavar noticed an elderly woman
shivering in the cold and gently placed the royal gift on her shoulders. When the king
demanded to know why he had given it to “a hag,” the saint replied that she was the
Mother of the Universe and he was only returning what had always been hers.
For one such as Tayumanavar, even the ground before Siva is sacred—each stone
a scripture, each breath a surrender, each prostration a homecoming to the Infinite.
Prostration is a form of prapatti, unconditional surrender.
After the Great Departure of Maunaguru, Tayumanavar assumes spiritual leadership
of the monastery. He becomes the guide and teacher of his guru’s disciples,
carrying forward the tradition of inner silence, stillness and Self Realization that
Maunaguru so deeply embodied.
The Raja of Ramnad and his subjects worshiped the sage and brought him to
Ramnad in a palanquin. There, it is said, he mobilized the Marava chiefs to ward
off foreign invasions.
Tayumanavar dances barefoot in the rain, lost in
the bliss of Siva’s presence, within and without.
Each drop, each breath becomes sacred—a
divine revelation. The
fire of longing and the storm of confession
have passed. There is no more striving, only
abiding. The songs settle into stillness, luminous
and sparse, like the echo of a teaching that no
longer needs to be spoken. This is the closing
gesture of a soul who has found fullness within.
He can dance in the rain without getting wet.
Having poured his realization into sacred verse, Tayumanavar reaches a deep relinquishment. Seated in pure detachment, he releases his palm-leaf manuscripts to the wind, offering his cherished songs back to Siva.
Nearing life’s end, Tayumanavar sits in meditation, his face calm and inwardly
focused. Around him, a few devoted disciples gather with folded hands, tearful yet
serene—knowing their beloved master is nearing his departure.
It is easy to tame the wild elephant, bind the snarling
mouth of a bear, ride boldly on a lion’s back, and coax a
venomous cobra to dance. One can walk across water or
sit unharmed in fire. One can make mercury yield gold,
disappear from view, or even enter another’s body at will.
The celestial realms may respond to command, planets
orbit in your favor. All these are feats of power attained
by the great siddhis. And yet, these triumphs are trivial
compared to sitting utterly still. To dissolve the ego, silence the restless mind, and remain
in deep inner stillness—summa iru—is the greatest and most difficult of all powers.
In the courtyard of the Rock Fort Temple in
Tiruchirappalli, Tayumanavar approaches the Sivalingam
with reverence, imploring Siva to guide him to his guru.
Around him, other sadhus remain immersed in their
sadhanas—one deep in meditation, another bowing
in silent devotion. Above them rises the ancient hill
crowned by the famed Pillaiyarpatti Temple, a beacon of
Ganesha’s grace.
This mural-style illustration traces the arc of Tayumanavar’s
life. At top left, he marries and, with his wife, prays to Lord
Siva for a child. Their prayers are answered, but tragedy
strikes as his wife and mother pass away. Entrusting his
son to his brother’s family, he sets out on a spiritual quest.
At Rameshvaram, he falls at the feet of the silent sage
Maunaguru and receives initiation. Returning to the Rockfort
Temple in Trichy, he immerses himself in meditation and
awakens the inner light. Renouncing the world, he becomes
a wandering sadhu, singing of Siva at temples across South India. After his guru’s passing,
Tayumanavar assumes leadership of the monastery. In the final panel, his earthly body is
cremated as his soul ascends into Siva’s eternal realm of light and bliss.
King’s minister: Tayumanavar, with accounting journals under his arm, walks barefoot
to the castle, where King Nayak has engaged him as his financial manager. Days later,
two men examine the footprints he left in the sand, astonished to find they have not
disappeared as one would expect. They take it as a miraculous happening. Above, Siva
uses His trishula to row a divine Moon Boat through the heavens, watching the events
below. On the left, a family of toddy tappers walk the aerial ropes between palmyra palm
trees, gathering the nectar for making jaggery and toddy. Below, a woman sells the
palm nuts. A bullock cart full of kingly supplies approaches the castle, and elephants,
one with a flower in his trunk, greet the saint on his first day. Below, under a spreading
banyan tree, two philosophers debate the merits of Vedanta and Siddhanta. It was
Tayumanavar’s life mission to show the unity of these two great views.
Milestones: Above, in the celestial realm, Siva hovers over the mountains in an unusual
form, with eight arms, a favorite of Tayumanavar. In the central panel, left to right, Mauna
Guru blesses the saint, initiating him into sannyasa on the banks of a holy river; he sends
Tayumanavar on an extended pilgrimage to the temples of the south, with instructions
to promulgate the teachings of Saiva Siddhanta as presented by Tirumular (he worships
the Sivalingam at the Tayumanavar Temple in Tiruchirapalli, after which he was named,
then gives upadesha in a temple mandapam to four seekers); the saint bathes in the holy
tank before entering Chidambaram temple. In the lower panel, left to right, the artist has
depicted the four pillars of Saiva Siddhanta: guru, lingam, sangam and valipadu. These
form the essence of the tradition—the need for a spiritual master, the prominence of
Siva in every aspect of life, the fellowship of like-minded Sivabhaktars and the sadhana
of daily worship in the home and temple.
Early days: The middle part of Tayumanavar’s life is summarized here in four scenes.
Seated at the style of desk from those days, he works as the finance minister for King
Nayak, performing well the duties of an accountant and advisor. Having been sent back
to the world by Maunaguru, he marries. Shortly after the birth of his son, Tayumanavar’s
mother passes away, and not much later, his wife makes her great departure into a world
of light. After conducting their funeral rites, the sage ponders the fleeting nature of life.
Drawn to the renunciate’s life, he determines he is not fit to raise his young son. With
difficulty, he gives his possessions and the boy’s care to his brother and his brother’s
wife, leaving the world behind. He adopts the life of a wandering sadhu. In the center, the artist shows him seated in his simple hut, practicing yogic sadhanas. After Guru
diksha, he experiences Self-realization, depicted here as Siva’s divine body merging with
the sage. It is a foundational principle in Saiva Siddhanta that the efforts of the seeker,
no matter how profound or disciplined, are not sufficient for realizing the Absolute. That
final step on the spiritual path to perfect unity must be a gift of grace from God Siva.
Path to Siva: Tayumanavar worships at the Sivalingam shrine at the base of Tirusira
Hill, just below the Ucchi Pillaiyar Temple at Rockfort in Tiruchirappalli. Soon after, he
meets Maunaguru and falls at his feet for the first time—an encounter that will change
the course of his life. On the right, Maunaguru, concluding that the youth is not yet ready
to renounce the world, sends him back to continue his service as an accountant to King
Nayak. Below, in four panels, the artist depicts a central Saiva Siddhanta idea found in
the poet’s verses: the ascending path of charya, kriya, yoga and jnana.
Maunaguru departs: In the upper right corner, Tayumanavar cremates the body of
his guru, who ascends into the Sivaloka with the rare and remarkable joy of a realized
soul, knowing he is Siva-bound. Thereafter, Tayumanavar assumes his rightful place
as head of Maunaguru’s Saiva matha, teaching and guiding shishyas until his own final
days. Below, the artist depicts three crucial spiritual bonds that must be destroyed
for full liberation to be known (left to right): anava, maya, and karma. For anava, he
shows that when the soul, in its ultimate maturity, transcends the sense of I-ness and
separation from God, the true Self is revealed—none other than Siva. For maya, he
shows the ocean of samsara above which the nine planets revolve. On the right is Siva’s
unerring law of karma—the law of action and reaction that defines human physical and
psychological life. The archer is slaying himself without knowing it.
Prolific poet: Here, the artist depicts one of the fundamental concepts in Saiva
Siddhanta, known in Tamil as Pati, pasu and pasam. These three represent all that
exists: God, soul and world. Tayumanavar sits before a Siva Lingam, symbolizing Pati,
God. Behind the saint, Siva as Ardhanarishvara cradles a devotee in His right hand,
depicting pasu, the soul. In Siva’s left hand is the Earth, representing the manifest
world—pasam. Our sage writes intently on a palm leaf, as he did throughout his life,
producing an astonishing body of sacred verses, symbolized by the sea of palm leaves
at the bottom of the canvas.
Many moods: Tayumanavar’s songs contain many moods experienced by a seeker,
from the highest to the lowest. Here, the artist has Siva listening attentively and lovingly
to His poetically expressive devotee, showering the saint with grace no matter what
mood he is in on that day. One of the powerful things about his songs is the utter
humanness of his words. He wrote of the things that all bhaktars feel; sometimes he
was up, and often he was down. But Siva was always at the center of his life, no matter
what he was going through. Clockwise from the upper right: Tayumanavar is expressing
gratitude and adoration to Siva; surrendering himself to Siva; scolding Siva; pleading
Siva to free him from the world; worshiping Siva; feeling miserable and unworthy of
Siva’s love; weeping for Siva’s grace; doubting Siva is listening and rejoicing at Siva’s
presence in all the universe.
Hard to be still: This canvas expresses three principal concepts found throughout
the poet’s verses: 1) self-discipline, depicted by a tightrope walker crossing a deep
mountain valley; 2) yoga and meditation, shown by the yogini in a bound lotus pose;
3) control of desires, represented by a woman resisting sex, money, food, and clothes.
The lower part of the canvas illustrates one of Tayumanavar’s famed verses about the
importance—and the difficulty—of stillness. He writes: “It is easy to tame an elephant
in musth and bind the mouth of the bear. It is easy to ride on the back of the lion and
take a cobra in your hand and make it dance. It is easy to place mercury on blazing fire,
alchemize the five base metals into gold, and sell them for a living. It is easy to roam
about in the world invisible to others. It is easy to command the celestial beings to serve
you and to live young eternally. It is easy to transmigrate into another body, to walk on
water, sit on fire, acquire all knowledge, and attain siddhis incomparable."
Siva’s forms: The songs of Tayumanavar primarily worship Siva as Father, Mother, and
Vastness. Here, the poet lifts his hands in reverence before the immensity symbolized
by the Sivalingam, surrounded by unimaginably vast space. Many of his verses are
addressed to the green parrot held by Goddess Shakti—the parrot being a traditional
channel to the Divine, a messenger to the Gods.
Credits:
Biographical Introduction by Dr. B. Natarajan of Chennai (Madras), India (1978) Himalayan Academy - Kauai Hindu Monastery