நினைத்ததைச் செய்தே னில்லை நீர்ப்பதும் வாத மில்லை
மனத்தினால் மாயை போக்கி மதியினால் மதித்து வாளா
தனித்துணைத் தவத்தி லேறித் தன்மய முனையைப் பற்றிக்
கனத்துளே கதி கலங்கும் கதியுளேன் கதியு ளேனே
ninaittataic ceytē ṉillai nīrppatum vāta millai
manattināl māyai pōkki matiyināl matittu vāḷā
tanittuṇait tavatti lēṟit tanmaya muṉaip paṟṟik
kanattuḷē kati kalaṅkum katiyuḷēṉ katiyu ḷēṉē.
I have not done what I had thought (to do); there is neither “neerppaduthal” nor vādam.
Driving away māyā by the mind, and judging/discerning by the intellect—(do not) live idly/in vain.
Ascending into the tapas (austerity) that has solitude as its only support, holding fast to the “tanmaya” point (the tip/apex of self-absorption),
Within the dense/heavy (state), when the gati (course/refuge/movement) becomes confused, I am in gati—yes, I am in gati.
Not by mere intention and outward doing (alone), but by inner correction: with the mind I remove illusion; with discriminating intelligence I refuse a wasted life.
I take up solitary austerity and seize the subtle apex where the sense of “I” dissolves into self-absorption.
Even while embodied in dense matter—where the inner “movements” (of breath, destiny, or direction) can become disturbed—I remain established in the true gati: the right course, the true refuge.
The verse moves in three coupled registers—ethical/yogic discipline, siddha-physiology, and nondual “abidance.”
1) Intention versus accomplishment: “I have not done what I thought” can be read as (a) renunciation of compulsive, plan-driven action, or (b) confession that ordinary effort does not reach the goal. In Siddhar idiom this often points to a shift from external “doing” to internal “knowing/being.”
2) Body as diagnostic field (Siddha medical subtext): “neerppaduthal” and “vādam” sound like bodily conditions/humoral disturbances. “Vādam” naturally evokes vāta (wind-humor) in Siddha medicine; “neer-” evokes “water” (fluidity, urinary/serous/watery disorders). In yogic practice, instability of vāta and excess/deranged “water” can agitate the mind; thus the line can imply a state of physiological balance that supports stillness.
3) Method: mind and intellect as instruments: “By the mind I remove māyā; by the intellect I discern.” Siddhar instruction commonly differentiates: - manam (mind): the field where illusion arises and is to be quieted/cleansed. - mati (intellect/discrimination): the faculty that ‘measures’ (madi- / mathi-) and refuses a purposeless life (“vāḷā” = living in vain). This is not mere moralizing; it is an insistence that insight (viveka) must accompany mental purification.
4) Solitary tapas and the “tanmaya point”: “tani-thuṇai-t-tavam” suggests austerity with no external prop—no reliance on social supports, sensory diversions, or even doctrinal crutches. “tanmaya munai” (self-absorbed point/apex) is deliberately cryptic: it may indicate a meditative locus (a ‘point’ of attention) or the culminating edge where individuality thins out. The Siddhar voice preserves ambiguity: it is both a practical concentration-point and a metaphysical threshold.
5) ‘Kanam’ and ‘gati’: “Within the dense/heavy (kanam), gati becomes confused.” “Kanam” can signal the gross body, the heaviness of materiality, or the weight of karma/tamas. “Gati” can mean path, destination, refuge, or the motion/course of prāṇa. Thus the line can describe either (a) the yogin’s breath-current wavering within the body, or (b) one’s spiritual direction becoming unclear amid embodied life. The repeated assertion—“I am in gati”—then reads as a declaration of being anchored in the true course/refuge even when internal motions waver.
Overall, the verse points to a Siddhar ideal: stabilize the body’s disturbances, clear māyā from the mind, sharpen discrimination, undertake solitary tapas, and hold the subtle apex of self-absorption—so that even in dense embodiment and fluctuating inner ‘motions,’ one remains established in the true refuge/course.