309 ఏమి సేయఁగవచ్చు నీశ్వరాధీనంబు
(ēmi sēyaṃ̐gavaccu
nīśvarādhīnaṃbu)
INTRODUCTION
“What can
be done?” — this question is not an expression of
pessimism. Life itself is neither a problem nor a puzzle waiting to be solved. Yet
the condition in which we live — a field governed by cause and effect — makes
it appear so. We grow weary within this never-ending chain of reactions. “What
can be done?” therefore becomes a question that deserves careful reflection.
In this
composition, Annamacharya does not treat human life as a problem to be solved.
Most people approach life as though it were a puzzle, believing that its reward
lies in solving its mystery. The poet offers a different perspective. Life is
not a puzzle to be solved; it is a movement to be observed.
Human
beings usually place emphasis on doing. The mind constantly urges us to
act — to achieve something, to correct something, or to bring about some
change. But the poet points in another direction. What is the nature of our
actions? From where do they arise? What attractions, fears, and reactions lie
behind them? To observe these is the beginning of true inquiry.
Such
observation requires patience. Action seeks immediate results, but
understanding unfolds slowly. The mind often cannot endure this waiting and
repeatedly slips back into activity. Because of this impatience, we rarely
notice the deeper source from which our actions emerge.
Thus, the
poem quietly suggests an important insight: it may not be within our power to
correct the world (which includes oneself) through action. But it is certainly
within our reach to observe the nature of our actions. In that observation our
true condition becomes visible.
This is not
a moral instruction; it is an inquiry. By showing how human beings become
entangled in their own actions, the poet invites us to watch the origin of
those actions in silence. Only when such understanding arises can the character
of action itself begin to change.
Annamacharya
reveals that our suffering is not caused by the 'Divine Will,' but by our own busy-ness.
We are like people trying to fix a flowing river with a hammer. We are
exhausted not because life is hard, but because we are 'wrestling' with the
inevitable.
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అధ్యాత్మ
సంకీర్తన
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రేకు: 36-2
సంపుటము: 1-221
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ఏమి సేయఁగవచ్చు నీశ్వరాధీనంబు తామసపు బుద్ధి కంతలు దూరవలసె ॥ఏమి॥ తెగి దురాపేక్షఁ బడ తివియ గతిలేదుగన పగగొన్న వగల కూపములఁ బడవలసె తగుమోహసలిలంబు దాఁట మతి లేదుగన మగుడఁబడి భవముతో మల్లాడవలసె ॥ఏమి॥ పాపకర్మములఁ జంపఁగ శక్తిలేదుగన కోపబుద్ధులచేత కొరమాలవలసె రూపములఁ బొడగాంచి రోయఁ దరిలేదుగన తాపములచేఁ బొరల తగులుగావలసె ॥ఏమి॥ తిరువేంకటాచలాధిపుఁ గొలువలేదుగన గరిమెచెడి విషయకింకరుఁడు గావలసె పరతత్వమూర్తిఁ దలఁపఁగఁ బ్రొద్దులేదుగన దొరతనం బుడిగి యాతురుఁడు గావలసె ॥ఏమి॥
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PHILOSOPHICAL POEM
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Copper Plate: 36-2 Volume: 1-221
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tāmasapu buddhi kaṃtalu dūravalase ॥ēmi॥ tegi durāpēkṣaṃ̐ baḍa tiviya gatilēdugana pagagonna vagala kūpamulaṃ̐ baḍavalase tagumōhasalilaṃbu dāṃ̐ṭa mati lēdugana maguḍaṃ̐baḍi bhavamutō mallāḍavalase ॥ēmi॥ pāpakarmamulaṃ̐ jaṃpaṃ̐ga śaktilēdugana kōpabuddhulacēta koramālavalase rūpamulaṃ̐ boḍagāṃci rōyaṃ̐ darilēdugana tāpamulacēṃ̐ [1]borali tagulugāvalase ॥ēmi॥ tiruvēṃkaṭācalādhipuṃ̐ goluvalēdugana garimeceḍi viṣayakiṃkaruṃ̐ḍu gāvalase paratatvamūrtiṃ̐ dalaṃ̐paṃ̐gaṃ̐ broddulēdugana doratanaṃ buḍigi yāturuṃ̐ḍu gāvalase ॥ēmi॥
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Details
and Discussions:
Chorus (Pallavi):
ఏమి సేయఁగవచ్చు
నీశ్వరాధీనంబు
తామసపు బుద్ధి
కంతలు దూరవలసె ॥ఏమి॥
ēmi sēyaṃ̐gavaccu
nīśvarādhīnaṃbu
tāmasapu buddhi kaṃtalu
dūravalase ॥ēmi॥
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Telugu
Phrase
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Meaning
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ఏమి సేయఁగవచ్చు నీశ్వరాధీనంబు
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When everything is under the sovereignty of the Divine,
what is there for human beings to do?
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తామసపు బుద్ధి కంతలు దూరవలసె
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Yet the tamasic mind keeps searching for hidden corners and
secret passages.
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Literal Meaning:
When
everything is under the control of the Divine, nothing is truly assigned for
human beings to accomplish. Yet the mind, clouded by tamas (ignorance,
darkness), keeps wandering in search of hidden corners.
Interpretative Notes:
ఏమి సేయఁగవచ్చు: “What can
one really do?”Let us
first understand why doing nothing is so difficult. For a mind that is
not engaged in activity, the primary problem is how time is to be spent. The
human mind therefore functions in close association with time. Without the
movement of time—the ticking of the inner clock—the mind tends to fall apart.
Dissolution through time is a natural process. Yet we repeatedly sustain the
mind by continuing memories, rehearsing experiences, and reviving thoughts.
What we are
made of is precisely what directs us. The same principle applies to the “I” and
“we.” Until we examine this for ourselves, it remains difficult to perceive
this fact clearly. Let us understand this thru a surrealistic painting by René
Magritte’s “The Cultivation of Ideas.” (1928)
At first
glance the painting appears to depict a natural landscape. Two vertical forms
resemble tree trunks; if one imagines them as legs, their upper parts merge
into leaves and branches, forming the outline of a human figure. The cluster of
leaves may be seen as analogous to the thoughts that occupy the human mind. The
figure appears to be standing and observing something resembling a river
flowing before him. He stands upon a flat, artificial platform.
The river
seems shallow near his feet but grows deeper and faster as it flows away into
the distance. Standing on that artificial embankment, the figure appears to
feel that everyone except himself is being carried away by the current. A
closer look reveals that the entire scene resembles the state of a person
awakening from sleep but not yet fully conscious.
తామసపు
బుద్ధి కంతలు దూరవలసె: “The dull mind seeks crevices.”
Human
thought in this way becomes connected with a collective current of
imagination—like the river in the painting—and people begin to move according
to that flow. This is why individuals within a particular society often display
similar tendencies and patterns of thinking. Although outwardly we appear to
think independently, inwardly we are not entirely free.
The fact
that the figure in the painting stands upon an artificial platform is
significant. Our thinking rests upon foundations we have constructed for
ourselves. These foundations consist of the body, memories, and accumulated
experiences. All of them are stimulated through sensory contact—seeing,
hearing, smelling, tasting, and bodily sensation—primarily organized around
pleasure and gratification.
A mind
situated in such a field of excitation is inevitably pulled in one direction or
another. Unable to
remain steady in the face of these pressures, the intellect begins to rely on
activity as a support and moves into hidden passages and side routes. It is
this tendency toward such side-paths that Annamacharya captures in the concise
phrase:
“తామసపు బుద్ధి కంతలు దూరవలసె”— The dull
mind seeks out crevices. This is not a moral condemnation. It is an
observation of how the mind, by its very nature, begins to cultivate and
multiply thoughts, much like seeds growing in a field.
First Stanza:
తెగి దురాపేక్షఁ బడ తివియ గతిలేదుగనపగగొన్న వగల కూపములఁ బడవలసెతగుమోహసలిలంబు దాఁట మతి లేదుగనమగుడఁబడి భవముతో మల్లాడవలసె ॥ఏమి॥
tegi durāpēkṣaṃ̐ baḍa tiviya gatilēduganapagagonna vagala kūpamulaṃ̐ baḍavalasetagumōhasalilaṃbu dāṃ̐ṭa mati lēduganamaguḍaṃ̐baḍi bhavamutō mallāḍavalase ॥ēmi॥
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Telugu Phrase
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Meaning
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తెగి దురాపేక్షఁ బడ తివియ గతిలేదుగన
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There is no intense resolve to strive boldly for liberation
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పగగొన్న వగల కూపములఁ బడవలసె
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తగుమోహసలిలంబు దాఁట మతి లేదుగన
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మగుడఁబడి భవముతో మల్లాడవలసె
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(మగుడఁబడి=distortion) Thus, becoming distorted,
one must wrestle with life itself
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Literal Meaning:
Since
we do not possess the intense aspiration required to strive for liberation, we
fall instead into deceptive pits created by resentment and reaction. Lacking
the willingness to cross the waters of attachment, we end up struggling with
life like a wrestler, bruised in the process.
Interpretative Notes:
In this
stanza Annamacharya places a mirror before the inner condition of human beings.
People often speak about liberation, but the poet quietly asks whether
there truly exists within us the courage and intensity required to pursue it.
The line “తగు మోహసలిలంబు దాఁట మతి లేదుగన” makes this
clear: the mind is not prepared to cross the waters of attachment.
Yet
outwardly we do not hesitate to appear as though we are engaged in such a
pursuit. Everyday life offers countless examples of this contradiction. When
this deeper readiness is absent, the mind turns toward another direction. It
slips into the “pits of deception” (వగల కూపములు) filled
with resentment, reaction, rivalry, and self-importance. These movements do not
lead toward freedom; instead, they tighten the structure of bondage.
Life
therefore becomes a continuous wrestling match. One struggles with
circumstances, with other people, and with oneself. In this process one is
repeatedly bruised. The word (మగుడఁబడి) suggests
this distortion: the mind loses its natural clarity and begins to move in
crooked ways. This is the choice exercised by the mind.
Importantly,
the poet is not making a moral accusation here. He is simply describing the
natural consequence of a mind that does not turn toward liberation. Such a mind
inevitably becomes entangled in reactions, conflicts, and struggles with life
itself.
Second
Stanza:
పాపకర్మములఁ
జంపఁగ శక్తిలేదుగన
కోపబుద్ధులచేత కొరమాలవలసె
రూపములఁ బొడగాంచి రోయఁ దరిలేదుగన
తాపములచేఁ బొరల తగులుగావలసె ॥ఏమి॥
pāpakarmamulaṃ̐ jaṃpaṃ̐ga
śaktilēdugana
kōpabuddhulacēta
koramālavalase
rūpamulaṃ̐ boḍagāṃci rōyaṃ̐
darilēdugana
tāpamulacēṃ̐ [1]borali
tagulugāvalase ॥ēmi॥
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Telugu Phrase
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Meaning
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పాపకర్మములఁ జంపఁగ శక్తిలేదుగన
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We do not have the strength to completely eradicate our
sinful tendencies
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కోపబుద్ధులచేత కొరమాలవలసె
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(కొరమాలవలసె = rendered useless) Therefore,
we become rendered useless by anger and reactive thinking
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రూపములఁ బొడగాంచి రోయఁ దరిలేదుగన
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We are unable to detach ourselves from attractive (external)
forms
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తాపములచేఁ బొరల తగులుగావలసె
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Thus, we
repeatedly wander in those and reinforce those attachments
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Literal
Meaning:
We do not
possess the strength to completely uproot the sinful tendencies within us.
Unable to accept this condition, we become rendered ineffective by anger and
reactive thinking. We cannot withdraw from the forms that are ingrained deeply in
the mind. Thus, we repeatedly get engaged and suffer further attachments.
Interpretative Notes:
In this
stanza, Annamacharya continues to unfold the inner condition described in the
previous verse. “పాపకర్మములఁ జంపఁగ శక్తిలేదుగన” points to a
basic human limitation: we do not possess the power to entirely eradicate the
tendencies that shape our actions. These tendencies are not merely moral faults
but deeply rooted patterns of reaction and desire.
Yet the
central difficulty lies elsewhere. The mind does not easily accept this fact.
Instead of accepting the truth, the mind broods within itself. What is seen
only dimly is resisted; what is resisted is pushed inward; what is pushed
inward stagnates within. what is suppressed stagnates within. In that stifling
inward stagnation, the mind slowly ferments, and from such fermentation arises
anger.
Here
“anger” should not be understood only as visible rage. It includes irritation,
resentment, defensiveness, and the subtle reactions through which the mind
tries to protect its self-image. Under the influence of such reactions,
discernment weakens and action becomes increasingly ineffective — “కొరమాలవలసె.”
The third
line introduces a deeper psychological insight: “రూపములఁ బొడగాంచి రోయఁ దరిలేదుగన.” The “forms”
mentioned here are not merely objects outside us. Through perception and
memory, the mind engraves images within itself. The word “బొడగాంచి” suggests this inner engraving or imprinting. What
binds us is not the outer object but the image we carry of it.
Because
these images are internal, detachment becomes difficult. The mind continues to
respond to the world through the impressions it has already formed. Attraction,
expectation, and identification arise from these inwardly stored forms.
Repeated indulgence in them further strengthens the impressions already
present. Thus, the present state becomes a continuing source of suffering.
Thus, the
stanza reveals a clear sequence:
inability
to uproot conditioning
resistance
to realise that condition
inward
stagnation and pressure
emergence
of anger and reaction
attachment
to inwardly formed images
repeated psychological suffering
The poet is not offering moral criticism. He is
simply exposing how the human mind becomes trapped in its own patterns of
reaction and attachment.
Third Stanza:
తిరువేంకటాచలాధిపుఁ
గొలువలేదుగన
గరిమెచెడి
విషయకింకరుఁడు గావలసె
పరతత్వమూర్తిఁ
దలఁపఁగఁ బ్రొద్దులేదుగన
దొరతనం బుడిగి
యాతురుఁడు గావలసె ॥ఏమి॥
tiruvēṃkaṭācalādhipuṃ̐
goluvalēdugana
garimeceḍi viṣayakiṃkaruṃ̐ḍu
gāvalase
paratatvamūrtiṃ̐
dalaṃ̐paṃ̐gaṃ̐ broddulēdugana
doratanaṃ buḍigi yāturuṃ̐ḍu
gāvalase ॥ēmi॥
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Telugu Phrase
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Meaning
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తిరువేంకటాచలాధిపుఁ గొలువలేదుగన
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Unable to offer the ego in surrender to the Lord of Tiruvēṅkaṭa
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గరిమెచెడి విషయకింకరుఁడు గావలసె
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(గరిమెచెడి = loss of
balance/equanimity) — losing inner balance, one becomes a servant of worldly
objects
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పరతత్వమూర్తిఁ దలఁపఁగఁ బ్రొద్దులేదుగన
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Absorbed in worldly engagements, there remains no time to
contemplate the Supreme Principle (Paratattva)
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దొరతనం బుడిగి యాతురుఁడు గావలసె
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The natural nobility (already present) is eroded, and one
becomes restless and inwardly powerless
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Literal Meaning:
Because one
is unable to surrender the ego to the Lord of Tiruvēṅkaṭa, inner balance is
lost and life becomes subservient to worldly pursuits. Being constantly
occupied with such engagements, there remains no space to contemplate the
Supreme Principle. Thus, the innate dignity of one's original state gradually
fades, leaving the person restless and inwardly weakened.
Interpretative Notes:
In
this stanza, Annamacharya brings the psychological movement of the poem to its
culmination. The poet points first to the fundamental difficulty: the
inability to relinquish the ego. “తిరువేంకటాచలాధిపుఁ
గొలువలేదుగన” does not merely refer to ritual worship
of a deity. It suggests the refusal of the mind to yield its self-centred
authority. When this surrender does not occur, the natural balance of
perception — “గరిమ”
— is disturbed. Once this balance is lost, the mind becomes a servant
of objects and experiences, constantly drawn outward.
At
this stage life becomes crowded with activity. The mind is fully occupied with
the world of impressions and pursuits. Because of this constant occupation,
there remains no quiet space to turn toward “పరతత్వమూర్తి” —
the deeper principle that lies beyond the immediate field of experience. This
“Paratattva” is not a distant deity existing elsewhere; it refers to the
fundamental reality that is present within ourselves but does not belong to the
daily restless movement.
The
final line introduces a striking image: “దొరతనం బుడిగి” —
the fading of a prior nobility. The poet suggests that a state of inner dignity
and equilibrium was already present. Yet through the restless and
self-assertive movements of the ego, this natural balance is gradually eroded.
What remains is agitation — a condition of inward urgency and exhaustion.
Seen
in this light, the stanza describes the loss of the central equilibrium of
consciousness. When the ego refuses surrender, perception loses its balance
and the mind becomes entangled in the world it pursues. The result is not fulfilment,
but a life marked by restlessness and inner strain.
Thus,
the stanza closes the arc of the poem: what began as a seemingly simple
question — “What can be done?” — ends by revealing how the human mind
itself moves away from the equilibrium that was originally available to it.
Synopsis
The
movement of this composition — from the Pallavi to the final stanza — may be
meaningfully compared with Hilma af Klint’s painting “The Tree of Knowledge
No. 5.” (For a detailed article on this painting, please click here.)
In the
pallavi, the poet points to a fundamental condition: when the mind finds
nothing meaningful to do, it is unable to remain still. Unable to rest in
quietness, it begins searching for unnecessary paths and diversions. (see the
noting on the enclosed painting).
In the
first stanza, this condition becomes clearer. Lacking the courage to
cross the waters of delusion, a person finds himself wrestling with life
itself. (see the noting on the enclosed painting).
In the
second stanza, this struggle takes another form. As anger, attraction,
and reactions take hold, life begins to revolve in a futile cycle.
In the
third stanza, the poet reveals the root cause. Unable to surrender the
ego, the natural balance of the mind is disturbed. As a result, one becomes a
servant to worldly objects, and the innate inner sovereignty already present
within gradually dissolves. (see the noting on the enclosed painting)
Thus,
this Keertana portrays the movement of human life —a mind unable to remain still, struggling in delusion, caught in the cycle of
anger and attraction, and ultimately losing its natural equilibrium.
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END-X-X
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