As the coronation ceremony for Arulmozhi Varman drew nearer and nearer, the entire Chola country was swept up in a single wave of jubilation. There was not the slightest difference of opinion among the people regarding the crowning of Ponniyin Selvan with the golden diadem. The men and women of Chola Nadu, the elderly, the children, the city dwellers, the villagers, merchants, and farmers—all, with one accord, welcomed the coronation of Ponniyin Selvan with great enthusiasm. They spoke again and again, marveling at the auspicious hour of his birth and the rare virtue with which he mingled freely among his people, delighting in these tales.

The Ramayana describes in vivid detail the joy that filled Ayodhya when the people learned that Dasaratha had decided to anoint Rama as king. It is said that all the elderly women became like Kausalya, rejoicing as if their own sons were to be crowned. The young women, sharing in the bliss that Sita Devi herself had experienced, adorned themselves with fine garments and jewels, believing their own husbands would soon wear the crown. All the elderly men of Ayodhya, it is said, became like Dasaratha himself.

"Women of advanced years became as Kausalya in their hearts; The priests were as Vasishta; all other women Were as Sita; that day, the goddess of fortune herself; And all the noble men of that city became as Dasaratha."

Thus, Kamban the poet has wondrously portrayed the state of mind of the people of Ayodhya. But what great deed had Rama performed to win such affection and respect from the people? The glory of his bow was yet to be revealed in the days to come. The fame of slaying Ravana and the other demons, and freeing the three worlds from fear, was yet to be his. Had not Rama merely accompanied the sage Vishwamitra and completed his sacrifice? That alone had not greatly enhanced his stature in the eyes of the people of Ayodhya. Why? Vishwamitra himself had not even returned to Ayodhya to recount the tale!

In this world, there are some who captivate the hearts of people through rare feats of valor and acts of charity. Others earn the admiration of their peers by singing melodious songs, performing graceful dances, composing poetry, or creating wonders in painting and sculpture. Yet another few are born blessed, emerging from the womb already marked by greatness. Without any apparent reason, Mother Nature bestows upon them a power to enchant and attract all who behold them. Ah! It seems Mother Nature is most partial indeed! Yet, what do we know? Perhaps, when Mother Nature grants such captivating power, she also gives, in equal measure, certain adverse qualities—who can say for sure?

Did not Rama, who won the love and veneration of the people of Ayodhya, have to endure sufferings unknown to ordinary mortals? Was he not forced to abandon his kingdom, wander the forests, lose his beloved wife, and bear agonies beyond words?

Arulmozhi Varman was a recipient of Mother Nature’s partial favor. His very appearance captivated the hearts of all who beheld him. His sweet speech and gentle manners won the affection of everyone who had the fortune to know him. While he was in the battlefields of Eezham, opportunities for heroic deeds were few and far between. Yet, tales—often imagined—of his valor and prowess spread throughout the Chola land. When we come to love someone, are we not ready to believe any and every exaggerated praise about them?

Since the time Sundara Chola fell ill and was unable to move about, the people had been anxious that confusion regarding the succession might arise in the Chola country. Rumors spread that the minor kings—such as the Pazhuvettaraiyars and the Sambuvaraiyars—and the great officials were plotting to crown the son of Kandaradithar instead of Sundara Chola’s sons. The people knew nothing against Kandaradithar’s son, Madurantakan. However, Madurantakan had never mingled with the people. All that was known was that, like his father, he had turned away from worldly life and immersed himself in devotion to Shiva.

From the time of Vijayalaya Chola, the Chola kingdom had expanded and flourished. Trade prospered, the people’s lives improved, and treasures from conquered lands poured into Chola territory, filling the people with joy and pride. The citizens, delighted by the ever-growing glory of the Chola Empire, longed for it to flourish and spread even further. They believed it was necessary. There were doubts as to whether, if Madurantaka—who was wholly immersed in Shaivite devotion—ascended the throne, the Chola kingdom could continue its progress. Not only that, but people feared that if Madurantaka became king, the petty chieftains would have their way as law.

Although the people held Aditya Karikalan in the highest esteem as a peerless warrior, there was not much enthusiasm about his ascending the throne. Aditya Karikalan did not possess the sweet and winning nature that could captivate the hearts of the people. He did not mingle easily with everyone. Moreover, mysterious rumors circulated about Karikalan. It was whispered that he had committed some grave crime, that his conscience was tormented by it, and that he had thereby lost the affection of his father, Sundara Chola. Many other fanciful tales were woven around him. Therefore, when he met with an untimely death, though the people paid him the honors due to a great hero, they did not grieve excessively. They laid the blame upon the comet and somehow consoled themselves.

The death of Periya Pazhuvettarayar, and the manner in which it occurred, inspired a new sense of admiration and respect for him in the hearts of the people. It was rumored that the enchanting woman whom that valiant elder had married in his old age was, in truth, one of the Pandya conspirators, and that it was at her instigation that Periya Pazhuvettarayar’s mind had been corrupted; that the Pandya conspirators were the true cause of Aditya Karikalan’s untimely death; and that, upon learning the truth, Periya Pazhuvettarayar, as atonement for