on thayumanavar

i often feel like i am simply an echo of words already spoken, thoughts already realized. thayumanavar has already written and spoken of so many things i thought were my discoveries of the universe. i wonder sometimes if he could see me what he’d think of me. i have tattoos on my hands and wrists to remind me of life and my ancestors’ spirituality. i have a septum piercing as a symbol of my choice to be a warrior-poet in my own way. to be more than the cards i’ve been dealt in life. i am a survivor. i’ll be honest. growing up i hated hearing about him even though i was nicknamed after him. he left his wife and only child (who i am directly descended from) to wander the wilderness and commune with the universe. he never returned. he was burned alive. confused for overgrowth his gardeners burned him with the rest of the unwanted shrubbery. or at least that is how the story goes. he lived in the 1700s which makes him 18th century. he was a well known man. he was the advisor to his king. and when the king died and the queen offered him the crown by way of marriage he went home. told her to keep her gifts. he was tamil. he was a poet too. he is a well loved hindu saint. i always found that funny as tamils are looked down on for the most part yet he is one of the most beloved of their saints and he is one of us.

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