On the day before the events narrated in the previous chapters, we left behind Prince Arulmozhi Varman as the honored guest of the people of Nagapattinam. After the grand feast had concluded, the prince mounted a richly adorned elephant and set forth. Countless people followed him, proclaiming, “We shall come to Thanjai!” That night, the prince and the throng that accompanied him reached Thiru Aaroor.

The people of Thiru Aaroor, having learned in advance of the prince’s arrival, gave him a royal welcome, offering all honors befitting his station. From the ancient gateway of Thiru Aaroor’s Gunavasal to Kudavasal, the people gathered in great numbers. The four royal streets were so crowded that not even a sesame seed could have fallen to the ground. The facades of every house were decorated with festoons. The Chozha palace at Thiru Aaroor too was adorned by the officials. Arrangements had been made to provide a feast not only for the prince but also for the multitude that accompanied him.

The previous night, a fierce storm had swept through Thiru Aaroor. Yet, the tempest of joy and celebration that arose with the prince’s arrival made everyone forget the previous day’s storm entirely. The streets resounded with the music of drums and pipes, with singing and dancing, with the wild steps of the Kuravai dance, with puppet shows, and with displays of valor—knife games and wrestling matches accompanied by shouts of triumph.

The Chozha dynasty of Thanjavur, after the temple of the dancing Lord Nataraja at Thillai, held the temple of Lord Thyagaraja at Thiru Aaroor in special devotion, granting it many endowments. Yet, until then, Prince Arulmozhi Varman himself had never visited Thiru Aaroor. Therefore, the temple priests insisted that the prince must visit the shrine. The prince agreed and went to the temple. For many reasons, his heart was in turmoil, and he could not wholly immerse himself in the divine visions of the deity. When the worship and offerings were complete and the sacred prasadam had been received, the prince turned to the temple priests and asked, “Why is the Lord of this temple called Thyagaraja?”

The priests recounted the sacrifices made by Mahadeva, the foremost among the gods, Lord Shiva, for the redemption of all living beings in the three worlds. They spoke of the hardships undertaken by the Lord, who is capable of creating and destroying all three worlds, for the sake of granting grace to his devotees. They narrated how, for the salvation of souls, he took on the ascetic form and performed penance in the cremation ground… They spoke of this. They recounted how, forsaking even his austerities, he married Uma for the welfare of the gods. They narrated the tale of how the Lord appeared in the form of Bhikshatana, the mendicant, and begged for alms in all the worlds. They spoke of his dance in the hall at Thillai. They told how he carried earth for a bird and was struck with a cane by the Pandya king.

They reminded him that such a Lord Thyagaraja, who had now taken his abode in the temple at Thiruvarur, was worshipped there, and that in ancient times the ancestors of Arulmozhi Varman had lived in that very place. They recalled the wondrous tale of Manu Needhi Cholan, who, in order to render justice to a cow, sacrificed his own beloved son.

All these stories were deeply imprinted in Arulmozhi Varman’s heart. Until then, the prince had often marveled at the sacrifice of the Buddha; now, as he heard tales depicting Shiva, the Lord of the gods, as the very embodiment of sacrifice, he began to wonder at them as well. He had also heard the story from distant lands, of the divine son of God, who, for the sake of mankind’s welfare, was nailed to a cross and died. As he pondered all these, the thought took root in his mind that it is sacrifice alone that bestows divinity upon man.

Therefore, the boundless affection of the people surrounding him, their desire to seat him upon the throne of Thanjai and crown him king, filled his heart with immeasurable anguish. He began to think intensely about how he might escape from the prison of their love.

After the temple worship, the people of Thiruvarur offered the prince a grand feast. They arranged many entertainments for his pleasure. Though his heart was not truly engaged in any of these, he outwardly accepted them with apparent enthusiasm.

Later, around midnight, the prince returned to the Chola palace. There, some troubling news awaited him. Heavy rains had fallen to the west of Thanjai, causing great floods in the Kaveri, the Kollidam, and their tributaries, breaking the banks in many places. The land had become a vast sheet of water, making further travel difficult. They advised that it would be best to remain in Thiruvarur for two days, until the floods subsided, before setting out again. This did not please the prince. An urgent restlessness to reach Thanjai at once had taken hold of his heart. Would river breaches and floods be able to hinder such eagerness? Yes; if he were to travel surrounded by all these people and attendants, the journey would certainly be delayed. But if he went alone, riding an elephant, there was no need for any such delay. There was no river deep enough to stop an elephant— There was no road leading to Thanjai. Yet, the prince had no concern about that. He had never felt fear when it came to water. Had not the Ponni river become dearer to him than his own mother? Would not the Kaveri, who had saved him from drowning when he was but a small child, now come to his rescue again?

The real question was how to escape from this vast crowd of people. The memory of Rama slipping away from the people of Ayodhya in the dead of night came to Ponniyin Selvan’s mind. Why shouldn’t he too depart