Aditya Karikalan, along with his companions and retinue, was making his way past the splendid spot where the Manimuktha River merged with the floodwaters. As they rode, they conversed about the honors bestowed upon the prince on the first night at Thirumudukunram, and about the temple renovations underway in that sacred place.

“I am greatly pleased by what Sundaramurthi Nayanar did at Thirumudukunram!” said Parthibendran.

“What are you referring to?” asked Aditya Karikalan.

“That he refused to sing in praise of the old one!”

“I do not know of this. Tell me the details,” said Aditya Karikalan.

When Sundaramurthi Nayanar was on his pilgrimage, he came to Thirumudukunram, also known as Virudhachalam. As was his custom, he visited the Shiva temple there. The temple priests, after arranging for him to have darshan of the deity, requested, “Please compose and bless us with a hymn in praise of our town’s Lord!”

Sundarar asked, “Let me see, what is the name of the deity in this temple?”

Since the place was called Thirumudukunram, the priests had named the deity Viruthagireeswarar. They told him this name.

Sundarar’s face fell; he thought to himself, “Must I go on singing of old men everywhere?” Then he asked, “Very well, what is the name of the goddess here?”

“Viruthagireeswari,” replied the temple priests.

“So, you have given the title of ‘old man’ to the Lord, and made the goddess an old woman as well? I cannot sing of old men and old women! Farewell!” declared Sundaramurthi Nayanar, and, in anger, left the temple.

The priests believed that unless Sundaramurthi Nayanar composed a hymn, their temple would not gain renown. So, they consecrated another goddess in the temple and named her ‘Baalambikai’—the Young Mother. Once again, they went to where Sundaramurthi Nayanar was staying, told him the above details, and requested that he make another pilgrimage to the holy temple at Thirumudukunram. Sundaramurthi Nayanar, with his generous heart, agreed, and once more journeyed to that town, where he sang hymns in praise of Viruthagireeswarar, accompanied by Balaambikai.

Hearing this tale, Aditya Karikalan burst into laughter, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.

“Perhaps the poet who came to Periya Pazhuvetarayar said something similar, like Sundaramurthi. Maybe he declared that he would not sing of the old man or the old woman. Is that why the elder married Nandini? Who knows?” he said.

Hearing this, Parthibendran and Kandhamaaran laughed so hard that it seemed as if they would fall off their horses! Their laughter was so uproarious, it looked as though they might tumble to the ground.

After their laughter subsided, Parthibendran said, “I do not know why God created something called old age. Would it not have been better if everyone remained the same until their appointed time, and then simply died?”

“What does it matter what God has ordained? Whether one grows old or not lies in one’s own hands,” said Karikalan.

“How can that be?” asked Kandhamaaran.

“Do we ever think of Abhimanyu or Aravan as old men?” The other two remained silent.

“In the Chithra Mandapam of the Thanjavur palace, the portraits of all my ancestors are painted. Vijayalaya Cholan, Aditya Cholan, Paranthaka Chakravarthi—all are depicted as aged men. But how does my great-uncle Rajaditya appear? He shines forth as a heroic youth! Rajaditya died young. That is why he is forever blessed with unending youth! Who among us will be granted such a fortune, I do not know!”

The other two did not much care for this conversation. They remained silent.

“Why have you both suddenly fallen silent? Why are you so afraid of death? When this body perishes, a new, fresh body is given. Why should we fear death? If my friend Vandiyathevan were here, he would agree with me. It is rare to find such a spirited soul as he. Even if he were taken to the very gates of Yamaloka, he would laugh with joy!” said Prince Karikalan.

At that moment, they saw two horses racing down the road toward them, kicking up clouds of dust. In the blink of an eye, the horses had drawn close. Judging by the speed at which they approached, it seemed as though their riders would not even notice the prince’s party and would simply thunder past, heedless of all. Kandamaaran and Parthibendran, curious to see who these arrogant riders were, readied their spears and positioned themselves across the road to block the way.

But the oncoming horses were abruptly reined in and brought to a halt a short distance from them.

Vandiyathevan and Azhwarkadiyan leapt down from their mounts. The moment Prince Aditya Karikalan caught sight of Vandiyathevan, his joy knew no bounds. He too sprang from his horse, hurried forward, and embraced Vandiyathevan tightly.

“Brother! May you live a hundred years. I was just now speaking of you—not even a moment has passed since your name was on my lips!” exclaimed Karikalan.

The envy that overtook Kandamaaran and Parthibendran as they witnessed this scene was plain upon their faces. They rode their horses a little way ahead and stopped.

A short distance away, they saw more horses approaching. Within a few minutes, those riders too had arrived and halted. Kandamaaran noticed that these newcomers were men from Kadambur. He went over to them and inquired about the situation.

Afterwards, he returned to Prince Aditya Karikalan. “Prince! This Vandiyathevan is a friend to you, and he was once my friend as well. But now, I must accuse him of a grave crime. He is a traitor to friendship! He stabbed me in the back and left me grievously wounded. Therefore, it is my duty to warn you to be cautious in all matters concerning him!” said Kandamaaran.