When his surprise slowed down like a sudden flood, the poet's leader Nallan Sathanar said, "Prabhu! If so, the poet who composed this song..." He hesitated.
"In front of you, it is the emperor of the earth who has lost the strength of his legs and is lying on a sick bed!" said Sundara Cholar.
There were many exclamations and excitement among the poets. Some were shaking their heads and bodies, not knowing how to express their mood. Others were like stone, not knowing what their state of mind was!
Sundara Cholar said: "Poets! Once poets and poets came to see me in Pazhaiyarai. Some of you may have been in that crowd. Each one sang a song about the philanthropic nature of the Chola tribe; They also sang about me. They sang, 'I gave it to him,' 'I gave it to him.' At that time the junior stateswoman Kundavai was also near me. After the poets received the prizes, the queen Kumari praised their songs. I vowed to Kundavai that I could sing better than all the poets. Then I sang this song for fun. 'Give me a present!' I said. The child sat on my back and gave me two slaps on the cheek saying, 'Here's the gift'! I remember it as if it had happened yesterday; But it's been more than eight years..." Said.
"Strange! Strange!" and "Wonderful! Wonderful!" said the poets.
Vandhiyathevan was thrilled when he heard the name Kundavai. He had heard a lot about the beauty, scholarship and intelligence of that incomparable queen born in the Chola tribe. This is the blessed father who gave birth to such a wonderful princess; The mother is sitting beside her. How proud does Sundara Cholar speak of his beloved daughter? How does his voice melt and melt?...
Vandhiyathevan's right hand stroked the roll of silk cloth tied around his waist. Because the letter he had brought to Kundavai was inside the coil. The hand that felt was bewildered and paralyzed; His heart was bewildered. 'Alas! What is this? Don't you see the letter? Where did it go? Has it fallen somewhere? When I picked up the emperor's letter, did it also fall? Where would it have fallen? Maybe it fell in the hall of the courtyard? In that case, will it fall into the hands of the younger Pazhuvertaraiyar? Would there be any danger if it got stuck? Whoops? What a mistake! What a great mistake! How do we get out of this?...'
When Vandhiyathevan came to know that the letter he had brought to Kundavai Devi had failed, he did not stay there. He did not hear the conversation above; When he fell, he didn't make a good impression.
Sundara Cholar looked at the crowd of poets immersed in a sea of astonishment and said:-
"Kundavai should have told someone about the song I made as a joke. Maybe he told Eesanya Bhattacharya of Pazhaiyarai Thirumattrali temple. He spread this song all over the country and made it possible for the world to ridicule me..."
"Prabhu! What if they had sung it themselves? The song is awesome! No doubt. You are not only the 'emperor of the earth' but also the 'emperor of the poets'!" said Nallan Sathanar.
"However, if I had sung the same song this time, I would have added another gift. I would not have given an elephant to Indra, a horse to Surya and a palanquin to Sivanar. Yama escaped the blow. But his buffalo vehicle could not bear the wrath of Lord Shiva and fell there and died. Pazhaiyarai Sundara Cholar sent a buffalo carrier to Yama, knowing that Yama was struggling without a vehicle... I would have added a fantasy like this. Yama is now coming looking for me as Jamzam on that buffalo ram. Even our Thanjai fortress commander the younger Pazhuvertaraiyar can't stop Yama Dharma Raja and his buffalo car, can he?"
When Sundara Cholar said this, tears welled up in the eyes of Vanavanmadevi who was sitting beside him. Many of the poets there began to sob.
Only the younger Pazhuvertaraiyar was strong-willed.
"Prabhu! I shall be ready to wage war with Yama in your service!"
"No doubt about it, Captain! No human being, however, has the power to wage war with Yama. We should pray to God not to be afraid of Yama. Poets! Didn't a son of asceticism in Tamilnadu sing 'Namanai Anjom'?" said the emperor.
A poet rose and sang:
"We don't drink.
Namanai Anjom
We will suffer in hell.
Nadalaiallom
We're going to be sick..."