231.
అన్నియుఁ జదివితిఁగా ఆహా నేను
anniyu jadivitigA AhA nEnu
Introduction
At first glance,
this may seem like Annamacharya’s self-reproach.
But it speaks to something far deeper —
it reflects all of us.
Education does not transform one’s nature.
Maturity doesn’t arise from scriptures,
nor from sweet or eloquent speech.
It comes from how one sees.
Only a still mind,
watching with unwavering attention,
ripens into wisdom.
Yes, there is pointed criticism here —
of smooth-talking teachers
and hollow, honeyed words.
But more than that, this poem voices a quiet urgency:
a yearning to understand the self,
to understand this world,
that fragile thing called love,
and the mystery of past lives.
Countless births —
each a shadow cast on this body.
Unexplored life is a debris.
A shadow.
A decay.
And the real sorrow?
We hear from others —
but rarely dare a direct gaze within.
Without the courage and stillness to turn inward,
what is knowledge?
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అధ్యాత్మ కీర్తన |
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రేకు:
261-6 సంపుటము:
3-354 |
Copper
Leaf: 261-6 Volume:
3-354 |
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అన్నియుఁ జదివితిఁగా ఆహా నేను
నున్ననిమాటల నోరు నుడిగెడిదేదో॥పల్లవి॥ వొద్దనుండే నాజన్మమోహో మరచితిఁగా
చద్దివంటి మాతల్లిచన్ను మఱచితిఁగా
ముద్దుతోఁ బొరలే మలమూత్రము మఱచితిఁగా
యెద్దువంటివాఁడ నేను యెఱిఁగేటిదేదో ॥అన్ని॥ యిప్పటిచవి రేపటికెంచి తనియలేఁగా
తప్పక కాంతలఁ జూచి తలఁపు దనియలేఁగా
ముప్పిరిఁ బెక్కుగాలము ముదిసీఁ దనియలేఁగా
పిప్పివంటివాఁడ నేను పెనఁగేటిదేదో ॥అన్ని॥ యేడదో యీదేహమౌత యేనేమి నెఱఁగఁగా కూడిన మనువెక్కడొ గురుతూ నెఱఁగఁగా యీడనే శ్రీవేంకటేశుఁ డిట్టే నన్నుఁ గాచెఁగా నీడవంటివాఁడ నేను నేరుపింకనేదో ॥అన్ని॥
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anniyu jadivitigA AhA nEnu
nunnanimATala nOru nuDigeDidEdO ॥pallavi॥ voddanuMDE nAjanmamOhO marachitigA
chaddivaMTi mAtallichannu ma~rachitigA
muddutO boralE malamUtramu ma~rachitigA
yedduvaMTivADa nEnu ye~rigETidEdO ॥anni॥ yippaTichavi rEpaTikeMchi taniyalEgA
tappaka kAMtala jUchi talapu daniyalEgA
muppiri bekkugAlamu mudisI daniyalEgA
pippivaMTivADa nEnu penagETidEdO ॥anni॥ yEDadO yIdEhamauta yEnEmi ne~ragagA
kUDina manuvekkaDo gurutU ne~ragagA
yIDanE SrIvEMkaTESu DiTTE nannu gAchegA
nIDavaMTivADa nEnu nErupiMkanEdO ॥anni॥
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Chorus (Pallavi):
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Telugu
words/phrases |
Meaning in
English |
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అన్నియుఁ జదివితిఁగా |
As
though I’ve read everything as if I’ve mastered every kind of learning |
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ఆహా నేను |
Ah, what a scholar I am!”
(in irony) |
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నున్ననిమాటల నోరు నుడిగెడిదేదో |
Speaking in soft, honeyed words — what
exactly am I even saying? |
Literal
Meaning
“I’ve mastered the scriptures,” I claim with a
grin,
My words flow like silk — all polish, no skin.
But truth’s not a show,
It won’t bow that low —
What depth lies beneath all this din?
Interpretation
and Discussion
Each word flows
like honey — so sweet,
Polished, adorned, and discreet.
But truth wears no guise,
It stands — bare and wise —
Not all that sounds smooth is just.
The Trap
That silver-tongued talker you hear
May dazzle the heart and the ear.
But follow his song —
It winds you along
A maze with no doorway clear.
TRUTH
Truth walks without painted disguise,
It needs no applause, no prize.
It burns with its light,
Uncloaked in its right —
A flame that lives in your eyes.
First Stanza:
|
Telugu
words/phrases |
Meaning in
English |
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వొద్దనుండే
నాజన్మమోహో మరచితిఁగా |
I have, alas, forgotten the scent and impressions of my last births. |
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చద్దివంటి
మాతల్లిచన్ను మఱచితిఁగా |
I have forgotten the tender moments when my mother fed me like nectar in my infancy. |
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ముద్దుతోఁ
బొరలే మలమూత్రము మఱచితిఁగా |
I now fondly caress and praise this body, forgetting that it is formed of filth and excrement. |
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యెద్దువంటివాఁడ
నేను యెఱిఁగేటిదేదో |
Like a dull ox, having abandoned love, the filthiness of this body, and the subtle truths of nature — what can someone like me truly say or know? |
Literal
Meaning
I’ve
forgotten
the scent of former births —
the sweetness of my mother’s touch,
her love like nectar on my lips.
I cling to
this body with pride,
though it’s fashioned from filth and waste.
Like a dull-witted ox,
I’ve lost all sense of love,
of what this flesh truly holds,
of nature’s quiet truths.
So, tell me
—
what can I truly know?
And even if I speak,
where will my words lead?
Commentary:
Annamacharya
is blazing through illusion.
This is no
gentle reflection —
It is an unflinching confrontation with the human condition.
He calls out those who sweeten their speech with devotional syrup,
who speak of God while forgetting life’s raw truths —
the past
births that shaped us,
a mother’s unconditional touch,
and the impure, impermanent nature of the body.
To forget these is to lose the ground beneath reverence itself.
To deny the
body’s dirt
is to deny the divine in its natural, unpolished form.
He asks:
If I have become a beast —
insensitive to love,
oblivious to what I carry and what carries me —
what wisdom can I claim?
What truth can I offer?
This is a
blow to false refinement —
to those who sip poetry and forget pain,
who float in metaphor but never sweat through meaning.
Can sweetness speak truth
if it forgets where the tongue was born?
Second Stanza:
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పదబంధం |
అర్థం |
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యిప్పటిచవి
రేపటికెంచి తనియలేఁగా |
Unable to rest
unless today’s pleasures secured for tomorrow |
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తప్పక
కాంతలఁ జూచి తలఁపు దనియలేఁగా |
On seeing other
women, the mind cannot settle — restless and scheming in desire |
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ముప్పిరిఁ
బెక్కుగాలము ముదిసీఁ దనియలేఁగా |
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పిప్పివంటివాఁడ
నేను పెనఁగేటిదేదో |
I, like spent husk after juice is drained — what is left to
clutch, to pursue, or to celebrate? |
Literal
Meaning:
My mind
strained
In securing today’s pleasure
for tomorrow
Remain unblanched
No matter how much gained
The beauty of
another’s wife
caresses my life,
holds not the heart still;
plans and fantasies fill
Three worlds
—
circled countless times
old, shallow,
disoriented fellow
When the
cravings quiet down,
and the comparisons fall away —
What remains to be chased or cherished?
Commentary:
This is a scathing reflection on human restlessness —
life lived in comparison,
defined by
someone else’s salary,
someone else’s home,
the cars they drive,
the clothes they wear,
the perfumes they leave in the air —
each one sparking fires of discontent in the chest.
The
neighbour’s glamour
unsettles behaviour.
That desire outshines,
eclipsing inner calm.
Control fades.
Chaos reigns.
How
long has this illusion,
this instinct-led life, hold me prisoner?
This stanza is
not a passive lament.
It’s a blow to the ego.
Annamacharya
doesn't console —
he confronts.
Third Stanza:
|
Telugu
Phrase పదబంధం |
Meaning in
English |
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యేడదో యీదేహమౌత యేనేమి నెఱఁగఁగా |
I do not know
where this body came from; nor how it came into being. |
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కూడిన మనువెక్కడొ గురుతూ నెఱఁగఁగా |
I cannot trace
the origins of the soul (life-force) that joined this body. |
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యీడనే శ్రీవేంకటేశుఁ డిట్టే నన్నుఁ గాచెఁగా |
I merely
believed that Lord Venkatesha, right here on this earth, is guarding me. It came
true. |
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నీడవంటివాఁడ
నేను నేరుపింకనేదో |
I am like a
shadow — lacking any self-authority; how can I claim wisdom or learning? |
Literal
Meaning:
How was this body formed? Where did it
come from?
How did this life-force get joined to it?
I have no clarity on any of this.
All I know is — Lord Venkatesha is here, on this very earth,
and out of His grace, He is the one protecting me.
But truly speaking —
I am just a shadow,
without any independent authority.
If I lack even the reason to know,
can I ever be worthy of true knowledge?
Commentary:
Annamacharya is not whispering mild
doubts —
he is exploding with questions.
but they are fundamental,
unshakable,
the kind that have haunted the human race for ages.
What is this body? What is this life?
How did the two become joined?
Without reflecting on these,
what is the point of living?
Humans are not like other animals.
Every being is born with its own inherent dharma —
to know that is to live consciously.
To ignore it is to perpetuate ignorance.
When Annamacharya says,
“I am like a shadow,”
he means this life has no real stance of its own —
it borrows from other props, other ideas.
To shed the shadow is to shed ignorance.
This resonates with the Bhagavad Gita,
where it is said:
इदं
शरीरं कौन्तेय क्षेत्रमित्यभिधीयते |
एतद्यो वेत्ति तं प्राहु: क्षेत्रज्ञ इति तद्विद: || 13-2||
idaṁ śarīraṁ kaunteya kṣetram ity
abhidhīyate,
etat yo vetti taṁ prāhuḥ kṣetrajña iti tadvidaḥ (13.2)
Meaning:
"O son of Kunti, this body is called the field.
He who knows this field is called the knower of the field — the wise declare
him so."
It’s profoundly simple.
This body is the field of action.
To truly know the body is the task.
All else is deviation.
Man, and the World:
When
Krishnamurti was in India after World War II many prominent personalities came
to meet him, including Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru. In his meetings with Nehru, Krishnamurti elaborated at length on the
teachings, saying in one instance, "Understanding of the self only
arises in relationship, in watching yourself in relationship to people, ideas,
and things; to trees, the earth, and the world around you and within you.
Relationship is the mirror in which the self is revealed. Without
self-knowledge there is no basis for right thought and action." Nehru
asked, "How does one start?" to which Krishnamurti replied, "Begin
where you are. Read every word, every phrase, every paragraph of the mind, as
it operates through thought."
Direct vs. Indirect Perception:
No living being can see itself directly.
All knowledge of the self is indirect.
If the mind becomes a clear mirror,
then the world reflects clearly through it.
Our thoughts add colour to that reflection.
Meditation is the act of cleaning those stains.
A colourless mirror shows the cosmos as it is.
When the self and the universe stand as one —
that is equanimity.
That is divinity.
Very true
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