15R కంచూఁ గాదు పెంచూఁ గాదు
కడుఁబెలుచు మనసు
(kaṃcūṃ̐ gādu peṃcūṃ̐ gādu kaḍuṃ̐belucu manasu)
INTRODUCTION
The mind
thinks, imagines, remembers, desires, decides, and experiences. It perceives
things through the senses. It experiences pleasure and pain. It believes,
hopes, fears, and responds. Yet, what exactly is it that performs all these
activities? What is its nature? These questions still have no clear answer.
Philosophy, religion, psychology, cognitive
science, and several other fields have attempted to understand the mind. Some
have viewed it as a substance. Others have described it as a collection of
capacities such as thought, memory, imagination, and intention. Even so, the
mind has not become completely accessible to us. We experience its movements,
but we are unable to grasp fully how it operates.
Since human beings cannot express exactly what
exists within their minds, language, pictures, symbols, and traces came to be
used as approximate representations. Gradually, these signs, symbols, emblems,
and conventions themselves became synonymous with the object. Human beings
began to value the representation more than the reality it represented. As a
result, the very representations meant to help us see reality sometimes came to
stand in its place.
A good example of this can be found in the
famous surrealist painting “This Is Not a Pipe” by René Magritte.
What we see in the painting is a pipe. It
appears to be a pipe. But we cannot fill it with tobacco. We cannot light it.
It cannot produce smoke. It is not a pipe — it is only a picture of a pipe.
Even though we know the difference between an
actual object and its picture, the mind identifies the representation with the
actual object.
Magritte questioned our familiar assumptions
about language and visual representation. The name of an object is not the
object itself. A picture is not the object itself. Yet a name, a picture, or a
symbol can occupy the place of the actual object in our experience.
This is why the painting is relevant here. The
mind too does not always receive reality directly. It constructs images and
projections related to reality, and then builds its own imaginings through
them. We live within those imagined worlds.
The world cannot function without imagination.
But we must not mistake imagination for the world itself.
In this poem, the poet demonstrates the
impossibility of knowing the mind through every method we may conceive for
observing its movements. The difficulty is deeper than the mind being subtle,
constantly changing, or without a definite form. We are attempting to identify
something that is also partly constructed by the observer. It is almost like
trying to see one’s own face without the help of a mirror. The one who is
looking and the thing being looked at are not entirely separate.
Annamacharya does not resolve this difficulty
through a definition or a theory. He places before us the movements of the mind
and leaves us to observe how, in the very act of observing, we may also be
shaping what we think we are seeing.
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అధ్యాత్మ సంకీర్తన
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రాగి
రేకు: 104-3
సంపుటము - సంకీర్తన: 2-21
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కంచూఁ గాదు పెంచూఁ గాదు కడుఁబెలుచు మనసు యెంచరాదు పంచరాదు యెట్టిదో యీమనసు ॥పల్లవి॥ పట్టఁ బసలేదు చూడ బయలుగాదీమనసు నెట్టనఁ బారుచునుండు నీరూఁ గాదీమనసు చుట్టిచుట్టి పాయకుండుఁ జుట్టమూఁ గాదీమనసు యెట్టనెదుటనే వుండు నేఁటిదో యీమనసు ॥కంచూఁ॥ రుచు లెల్లాఁ గానుపించు రూపు లేదు మనసు పచరించు నాసలెల్లాఁ బసిఁడి గాదీమనసు యెచటాఁ గరఁగదు రాయీఁ గాదు మనసు యిచటా నచటాఁ దానే యేఁటిదో యీమనసు ॥కంచూఁ॥ తప్పక నాలోనుండు దైవముఁ గాదు మనసు కప్పిమూఁటగరాట్టదు గాలీఁ గాదు మనసు చెప్పరానిమహిమలశ్రీవేంకటేశుఁ దలఁచి యిప్పుడిన్నిటా గెలిచె నేఁటిదో యీమనసు ॥కంచూఁ॥
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Philosophical POEM
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Copper
Plate: 104-3 Volume: 2-21
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kaṃcūṃ̐ gādu
peṃcūṃ̐ gādu
kaḍuṃ̐belucu
manasu yeṃcarādu
paṃcarādu
yeṭṭidō yīmanasu ॥pallavi॥ paṭṭaṃ̐
basalēdu
cūḍa
bayalugādīmanasu neṭṭanaṃ̐ bārucunuṃḍu
nīrūṃ̐ gādīmanasu cuṭṭicuṭṭi
pāyakuṃḍuṃ̐
juṭṭamūṃ̐ gādīmanasu yeṭṭaneduṭanē
vuṃḍu
nēṃ̐ṭidō yīmanasu ॥kaṃcūṃ̐॥ rucu lellāṃ̐ gānupiṃcu
rūpu
lēdu
manasu pacariṃcu
nāsalellāṃ̐
basiṃ̐ḍi
gādīmanasu yecaṭāṃ̐
garaṃ̐gadu
rāyīṃ̐ gādu
manasu yicaṭā
nacaṭāṃ̐ dānē yēṃ̐ṭidō yīmanasu ॥kaṃcūṃ̐॥ tappaka nālōnuṃḍu
daivamuṃ̐ gādu
manasu kappimūṃ̐ṭagarāṭṭadu
gālīṃ̐ gādu
manasu cepparānimahimalaśrīvēṃkaṭēśuṃ̐
dalaṃ̐ci yippuḍinniṭā
gelice nēṃ̐ṭidō yīmanasu ॥kaṃcūṃ̐॥
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Details and Discussions:
Chorus
(Pallavi):
కంచూఁ
గాదు పెంచూఁ గాదు కడుఁబెలుచు మనసు
యెంచరాదు
పంచరాదు యెట్టిదో యీమనసు ॥పల్లవి॥
kaṃcūṃ̐ gādu peṃcūṃ̐ gādu kaḍuṃ̐belucu manasu
yeṃcarādu paṃcarādu yeṭṭidō yīmanasu ॥pallavi॥
Sense of
the Poem:
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Poem
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Meaning
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కంచూఁ గాదు
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It is not copper; it is
not a metallic substance like copper
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పెంచూఁ గాదు
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It cannot be raised,
trained, or shaped according to our wishes, like a domesticated animal
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కడుఁబెలుచు
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Extremely difficult;
hard to comprehend; resistant to being understood
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మనసు
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Mind; thought,
imagination, memory, desire, opinion, emotion, and inner movement
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యెంచరాదు
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Cannot be counted,
measured, assessed, fully imagined, or determined
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పంచరాదు
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Cannot be divided or
shared; cannot be communicated to another exactly as it is
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యెట్టిదో
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What kind it is; what
its nature is; what it actually is
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యీమనసు
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This mind
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Sense of the Poem:
The mind is not a metal like copper (easy to mend). Nor is it like a domesticated animal that can be raised and shaped according to one’s wishes. It is extremely difficult in its nature. We cannot fully assess its nature, nor can we share what exists within it exactly as it is with another person. What, after all, is this mind?
Deeper
Note:
In Bhagavad Gītā 7.4, the Lord identifies the
mind as one component of His material nature. Along with the five elements, He
includes the mind, intellect, and ego among the eightfold divisions of Prakṛti.
This indicates that the mind is not an individual
creation of a human being. It is an aspect of universal nature. However, when
it becomes associated with a living body, it functions as individual
experience—as thought, desire, memory, opinion, and other inner movements.
Therefore, we experience it as “my mind” (Bhagavad Gītā 5.14).
Annamacharya says: The mind cannot be mended like
copper. Nor is it a domesticated animal that can be raised and shaped like a
pet. Its nature remains extremely difficult. We cannot fully assess its nature
or share what exists within with others. What, after all, is this mind?
Yet, although the mind operates within us, it
does not thereby become entirely our own. It remains an aspect of Prakṛti, just
as the nose senses good and bad smells alike. Once the living organism begins
functioning, the mind interferes, and we cannot simply control that
interference. However limitless mind’s movements may appear, Annamacharya makes
a clear distinction: “దైవముఁ గాదు మనసు” “The mind is not the Divine.”
What is even more striking is that Annamacharya,
who can speak about the Divine, declares that the mind remains unknown. The
poet who describes the glory of Śrī Veṅkaṭeśvara with great ease leaves us,
when he turns to the mind, with the question: “యెట్టిదో యీమనసు” “What, after all, is this mind?”
This does not mean that he knows nothing about
the mind. Rather, it suggests that the mind cannot be confined within a
definition, a form, or a final conclusion.
That is why the question in the Pallavi is not an
ordinary one. Every attempt we make to understand the mind; it seems to slip
away without fully revealing it. In the end, one question alone remains: “What,
after all, is this mind?”
First
Stanza:
పట్టఁ
బసలేదు చూడ బయలుగాదీమనసు
నెట్టనఁ
బారుచునుండు నీరూఁ గాదీమనసు
చుట్టిచుట్టి
పాయకుండుఁ జుట్టమూఁ గాదీమనసు
యెట్టనెదుటనే
వుండు నేఁటిదో యీమనసు ॥కంచూఁ॥
paṭṭaṃ̐ basalēdu cūḍa bayalugādīmanasu
neṭṭanaṃ̐ bārucunuṃḍu nīrūṃ̐ gādīmanasu
cuṭṭicuṭṭi pāyakuṃḍuṃ̐ juṭṭamūṃ̐ gādīmanasu
yeṭṭaneduṭanē vuṃḍu nēṃ̐ṭidō yīmanasu ॥kaṃcūṃ̐॥
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Word /
Phrase
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Meaning
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పట్టఁ బసలేదు
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There is no firm basis
by which it can be held; it does not remain fixed in one place.
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చూడ
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When examined
carefully; upon observation.
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బయలుగాదు
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It does not reveal
itself; it does not allow itself to be known; it does not appear openly.
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ఈ మనసు
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This mind.
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నెట్టనఁ బారుచునుండు
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It inevitably and
continuously flows; it keeps moving without pause or a fixed direction.
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నీరూఁ గాదు
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Yet it is not water; it
is not a flowing liquid.
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చుట్టిచుట్టి
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Moving around and
around; circling us.
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పాయకుండుఁ
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Without leaving us;
continuously and without interruption.
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జుట్టమూఁ
గాదు
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It is not a relative;
it has no relationship of kinship; it cannot simply be regarded as a
well-wisher.
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యెట్టనెదుటనే
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Always right before us;
close at hand wherever we look.
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వుండు
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It exists; it remains.
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నేఁటిదో
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What kind it is; what
it actually is.
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యీమనసు
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This mind.
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Literal
Sense:
There is no firm basis by which the mind can be
held. We cannot say where it resides, nor does it reveal itself clearly when
examined. It keeps moving inevitably and continuously, like flowing water—yet
it is not water.
It moves around us and never leaves us, yet it is
not our relative. We cannot confidently call it our well-wisher.
Though it is always right before us, wherever we
look, what exactly is this mind? (We do not know).
Deeper
Notes:
In this stanza, Annamacharya shows the limits of
our attempts to hold the mind completely. We cannot identify a fixed place
where it resides. It does not fully reveal itself to observation. Its movement
continues without pause, and we cannot simply stop it. It surrounds us and
keeps functioning without leaving us, yet we cannot accept it as a familiar
relative or regard it entirely as our well-wisher.
Though it is always extremely close to us, it is
not completely familiar. Every attempt to define, hold, or fully understand the
mind encounters a limit.
In the end, one question remains: “యెట్టిదో యీమనసు” “What, after all, is this mind?”
Second Stanza:
రుచు
లెల్లాఁ గానుపించు రూపు లేదు మనసు
పచరించు
నాసలెల్లాఁ బసిఁడి గాదీమనసు
యెచటాఁ
గరఁగదు రాయీఁ గాదు మనసు
యిచటా
నచటాఁ దానే యేఁటిదో యీమనసు ॥కంచూఁ॥
rucu lellāṃ̐ gānupiṃcu rūpu lēdu manasu
pacariṃcu nāsalellāṃ̐ basiṃ̐ḍi gādīmanasu
yecaṭāṃ̐ garaṃ̐gadu rāyīṃ̐ gādu manasu
yicaṭā nacaṭāṃ̐ dānē yēṃ̐ṭidō yīmanasu॥kaṃcūṃ̐॥
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Word /
Phrase
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Meaning
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రుచు లెల్లాఁ
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All tastes; all
preferences and experiences.
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గానుపించు
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Brings into experience;
makes one experience.
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రూపు లేదు
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Has no definite or
particular form.
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మనసు
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Mind.
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పచరించు
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Moves about; wanders;
spreads or operates in different places.
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నాసలెల్లాఁ
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In all desires;
throughout all aspirations and wants.
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బసిఁడి గాదు
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It is not gold; it
cannot be held as a valuable material object.
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యెచటాఁ
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Wherever; in any place.
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గరఁగదు
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Does not melt; does not
change or yield.
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రాయీఁ గాదు
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It is not stone.
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యిచటా నచటాఁ
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Here and there;
everywhere.
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దానే
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The same one; itself.
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యేఁటిదో
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What kind it is; what
it actually is.
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యీమనసు
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This mind.
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Literal
Sense:
The mind brings all tastes and cognition into
experience, yet it has no definite form. Though it has no form of its own, it
gives shape to our experiences.
It stirs up desires and propels us towards their
gratification. It does not melt for our difficulties, tears, or anything else.
Neither is it a stone. It is there everywhere, right before the beholder.
And still, what exactly is this mind? We do not
know.
Deep
Notes:
This observation goes a step deeper. The mind
enables us to experience every taste and moves through all our desires. Yet we
cannot point to one definite form behind all these experiences. The formless
mind gives form to experiences and shape to desires; it also assigns value to
them.
Therefore, another attempt to treat the mind as
an object, a form, or a fixed nature fails. Though it operates through every
experience, it does not itself become an object that can be completely grasped.
That is why Annamacharya returns once again to the same question: “యేఁటిదో యీమనసు” “What, after all, is this mind?”
Third Stanza:
తప్పక
నాలోనుండు దైవముఁ గాదు మనసు
కప్పిమూఁటగరాట్టదు
గాలీఁ గాదు మనసు
చెప్పరానిమహిమలశ్రీవేంకటేశుఁ
దలఁచి
యిప్పుడిన్నిటా
గెలిచె నేఁటిదో యీమనసు ॥కంచూఁ॥
tappaka nālōnuṃḍu daivamuṃ̐ gādu manasu
kappimūṃ̐ṭagarāṭṭadu gālīṃ̐ gādu manasu
cepparānimahimalaśrīvēṃkaṭēśuṃ̐ dalaṃ̐ci
yippuḍinniṭā gelice nēṃ̐ṭidō yīmanasu ॥kaṃcūṃ̐॥
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Word /
Phrase
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Meaning
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తప్పక
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Certainly; without
fail; inevitably.
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నాలోనుండు
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That which exists
within me; that which functions in my inner being.
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దైవముఁ గాదు
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It is not the Divine;
not God
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మనసు
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Mind.
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కప్పిమూఁటగట్టరాదు
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it can’t be covered by
a blanket etc. and folded into a bundle
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గాలీఁ గాదు
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Yet it is not air or
wind.
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చెప్పరాని మహిమల
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Possessing
indescribable glory of.
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శ్రీవేంకటేశుఁ
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Śrī Veṅkaṭeśvara.
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దలఁచి
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Thinking of;
remembering; meditating upon.
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యిప్పుడిన్నిటా
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Now, in all these
things; in this entire field of experience.
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గెలిచె
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Here, not “conquered”
or “won”; rather, went away, disappeared, or became removed.
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నేఁటిదో
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What kind it is; what
it actually is.
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యీమనసు
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This mind.
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Literal
Sense:
The mind certainly exists within me, yet it is
not the Divine. It can’t be covered by a blanket etc. and folded into a bundle but
neither is it air or wind.
Remembering Śrī Veṅkaṭeśvara, whose glory cannot
be described, the mind’s connections with all these visible worldly things have
now fallen away. Yet, what exactly is this mind? We do not know.
Here, “గెలిచె” should not be understood as “conquered” or
“won.” If that were the meaning, the final question—“What, after all, is this
mind?”—would lose its place. Annamacharya is speaking only of the disappearance
of the mind’s connections with the visible world, not of the conquest of the
mind itself.
Deep
Notes:
In the first two stanzas, Annamacharya showed how
difficult it is to hold the mind or determine its form. In this final stanza,
he suggests that although the mind functions within us, it is not our personal
creation. It is an aspect of Prakṛti. Therefore, even though it is extremely
close to us, we cannot conclude that it is either “I” or “the Divine.”
The line: “తప్పక నాలోనుండు దైవముఁ గాదు మనసు” “The mind certainly exists within me, yet it is
not the Divine.” is the crucial turn in this stanza.
The mind is internal, continuously active, and
involved in accumulation and recall of our experiences. Yet, however extensive
its movements may be, it cannot be equated with the Divine.
The Poet confirms, after remembering Śrī
Veṅkaṭeśvara, the mind’s connections with the visible world appear to have
fallen away. This is not a declaration that the mind has been conquered. If it
had been conquered, the final question—“యేఁటిదో యీమనసు” “What, after all, is this mind?” —would have no
place.
What is known is only the disappearance of
certain worldly connections. The ultimate nature of the mind remains unknown. Thus,
the stanza does not end with a declaration of victory. Even when worldly bonds
fall away, the mind remains a question: “What, after all, is this mind?”
X-X-The END-X-X
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