The erstwhile composite Thanjavur district — now comprising Thanjavur, Nagapattinam, Tiruvarur and Mayiladuthurai — was once a vibrant hub of political activity. Known as the rice bowl of Tamil Nadu, the region provided fertile ground for the mobilisation of peasants and agricultural labourers under the red flag of the communist movement, even as the landed classes largely aligned themselves with the Congress.

At the same time, the district’s dense network of temples, its rich legacy of music, dance and scholarship, and the entrenched social dominance of Brahmins created the conditions for the emergence of the Dravidian movement, which championed ideals of equality and social justice.

T. Janakiraman, one of the finest figures in Tamil literature, evocatively captured many facets of Thanjavur — fondly known as Thanjai — in his works, where music forms a subtle yet abiding undercurrent. Yet politics, an inseparable element of life in the region, did not find a prominent place in his earlier writings. He appeared to make amends for this omission in his final novel, ‘Nalabhagam’, whose bold theme unsettled conservative sensibilities.

Nalabhagam centres on Rangamani, a relatively affluent Brahmin woman, who is struck by the unconventional idea of having a grandchild through Kameswaran — an accomplished cook and Devi upāsaka — as her son Durai and his wife have not been blessed with a child.

“Janakiraman, who did not foreground politics in his earlier works, accorded it considerable space in Nalabhagam. Even there, he treats it with subtlety—an approach that, in itself, reflects his political outlook,” writes Stalin Rajangam in his essay Thi.Javin Nalabhagam: Naveenthain Pothamayum Marbin Sezhumaiyum, included in Janakiramam, a volume of essays marking the writer’s birth centenary.

In the novel, Nallur emerges as a microcosm of Tamil Nadu’s political landscape, shaped largely by the competing influences of the Congress, the Dravidian parties and the Communists.

The engagement with politics begins in a conversation between Kameswaran and Devara Iyengar. Iyengar laments that his younger son was unable to secure a government job because of his past association with the communist movement during his college days, with adverse police reports repeatedly counting against him.

The village hosts at least two public meetings, with the Congress, the Dravidar Kazhagam, the DMK and the Communists all making their presence felt. “The novel was written at a time of significant change—shifts in agricultural production and land distribution, the growing influence of the communists and later Marxist–Leninist groups, the expansion of education across social sections, and the entrenchment of the two Dravidian parties as ruling forces. Yet it continues to deal predominantly with family tradition, blood relationships, and the dynamics between men and women,” observes Stalin Rajangam.

Jagathu, a Congressman, invariably begins his speeches with lines from the national poet Bharathiyar: Thanneer Vitta Valarthom Sarvesa, Ippaiyari Kanneeral Kaathom. This practice dates back to the days of the freedom struggle and continues unabated. Jagathu remains unemployed; his father, Appana Iyengar, works as an accountant in a textile shop, while his younger brother in the United States sends money home.

Ilankannan, an antithesis to Jagathu, represents the Dravidian movement and its anti-Brahmin sentiments. He ridicules Brahmins in public meetings, stretching the word “Iyerrrr” for effect—“Iyerrrr with three pattai on his forehead, and Iyerrrr with a sacred thread of three strands.” “The way he raises his hand while uttering the word conjures up a comedian and crow will laugh aloud,” writes Janakiraman.

The speeches and counter-attacks evoke fears of possible unrest. Kameswaran is filled with anxiety when Ilankannan declares, “When will the sword and axe taste the blood of the Jews?”—an indirect reference to Brahmins. Yet, after a while, he comes to see these speeches as little more than ritual.

“Despite their loud assertions, claims and counter-claims, Jagathu, Ilankannan and the Communist Srinivasan gather on Jagathu’s veranda to play cards. On auspicious days such as the full moon, they shift their venue to Srinivasan’s workshop,” writes Janakiraman.

In a sense, Jagathu, Ilankannan and Srinivasan resemble present-day politicians. They clash openly in Parliament, Assemblies and public forums, yet come together when it serves their shared interests.