“Is wealth alone happiness?”

nidhi cāla sukhamā

rāmuni sannidhi-sevā sukhamā

nijamuga palku manasā

dadhi-navanīta-kṣīramulu rucō

dāśarathi-dhyāna-bhajana-sudhā-rasamu rucō

dama-śamamanu-gaṅgā-snānamu sukhamā

kardama-durviṣaya-kūpa-snānamu sukhamā

mamatā-bandhana-yuta-nara-stuti sukhamā

sumati-tyāgarāja nutuni kīrtana sukhamā

I should begin by admitting I don’t actually know Telugu! However, the lyrics of Tyāgarāja use enough Sanskrit that I can usually figure out what’s going on. If I get something wrong, please tell me and I’ll change it.


This beautiful song, said to have been composed by Tyāgarāja in response to royal pressure, contrasts the pleasures of the material world with the pleasures of immersing oneself in the Divine (for Tyāgarāja, the form being Rāma in this case).

What’s the greater joy: wealth alone,

Or proximity and service to Rāma?

Tell me honestly, o Mind!

What’s more delightful: curds, fresh cream, and milk,

Or the nectar of singing and meditating on Daśaratha’s son?

What’s the greater joy: bathing in the Ganga of self-restraint and tranquility,

or bathing in the well of filth and impure objects?

What’s the greater joy: praising men who are tied down by flaws like possessiveness,

or singing the praises of the One prayed to by wise Tyāgarāja?

Here’s a clip from the Telugu movie Tyagayya, starring Somayajulu as Tyāgarāja, depicting this scene in the life of the saint-composer.






Seeing this clip, I was struck by something that should have been obvious at first glance: Tyāgarāja is not merely denying worldly wealth in the abstract; he is denying the specific patronage of a particular king at a point in time. This was at a time when the South Indian artistic milieu was entirely dependent on courtly patronage—which also meant that musicians had to compose songs in praise of their worldly patrons. In the case of dancers, they were called Devadāsīs and sometimes treated as prostitutes. Tyāgarāja’s abandoning the pursuit of wealth is thus about not just the nature of devotion, but also the necessity of artistic integrity and creative freedom. And perhaps the two are not entirely distinct.

Speaking of rejecting courtly patronage, I am reminded of another saint-scholar who is said to have done the same thing a few centuries before Tyāgarāja: Vedānta Deśika was said to have been invited to the Vijayanagara court (by the scholar Vidyāraṇya, it is said), but he rejected the royal gifts and composed the Vairāgya Pañcakam (the “Detachment Pentad”) as a response. I shall translate those verses on a later occasion.