Paari and the Jasmine Creeper

The most generous chief in the hills

Long ago, in the time of the Sangam poets, a chieftain named Paari (பாரி) ruled the green hill country of Parambu (பறம்பு). People called him Vel Paari (வேள் பாரி), Vel being a title for the chiefs of the hill lands.

Paari was not remembered for great battles or piles of gold. He was remembered for his giving heart. Poets, travellers and people in need all knew that no one left Paari's door empty-handed. His dearest friend, the great poet Kapilar (கபிலர்), sang about him in poems that are still read today.

Tamil tradition remembers seven chiefs of those days who were famous for their generosity. They are called the Kadai Ezhu Vallalgal (கடையெழு வள்ளல்கள்), "the last seven great givers". Paari is one of the best loved of them all, and this is the story that made him famous.

A ride through the forest

The story goes that one day, Paari was riding in his chariot along a forest path. Rain had fallen, and the air smelled of wet earth and wild flowers. The horses trotted along happily, and the chariot's wheels crunched on the path.

Then Paari noticed something by the side of the road.

It was a mullai (முல்லை) creeper, a wild jasmine vine. Its tender green stems were reaching out and waving in the breeze, as if searching for something to hold on to. But there was no tree nearby, no pole, not even a sturdy bush. The little creeper lay trembling on the ground, its tiny white flowers resting in the dust.

"Stop," said Paari softly, and he pulled up the horses.

He climbed down and knelt beside the vine. "Little one," he said, "you want to climb up towards the sun, don't you? But there is nothing here to hold you."

He looked around. The sticks on the ground were too thin. The nearest tree was too far away.

Then he looked at his own chariot, tall and strong, with a carved wooden frame and big, sturdy wheels.

The gift

Paari smiled.

He unhitched his horses. Then, very gently, he lifted the creeper's tendrils and wound them around the chariot's wheel and frame, so that the vine could hold on tight.

"There," he said. "Now you can climb as high as you like."

And leaving his fine chariot standing in the forest, Paari led his horses and walked all the way home.

When he reached the palace, everyone came running.

"My lord! Where is your chariot?" cried the servants. "Did robbers attack you? Did a wheel break?"

"No, no," laughed Paari. "I gave it away."

"Gave it away? To whom?"

"To a jasmine creeper," said Paari. "It had nothing to climb on, and it could not ask anyone for help. So I gave it my chariot."

For a moment everyone stared. Then, one by one, they began to smile. That was their Paari: a man whose kindness reached even a little plant by the roadside.

Remembered for ever

We can imagine that creeper, weeks later, climbing all over the chariot and covered with sweet-smelling white flowers. Tamil poets have praised Paari's gift for many centuries, and even today a very generous person may be compared to "Paari, who gave his chariot to the mullai", mullaikku ther kodutha Paari (முல்லைக்குத் தேர் கொடுத்த பாரி).

The other great givers have their own stories too. Pegan (பேகன்) is remembered for wrapping his warm shawl around a peacock he thought was shivering in the cold. And Adhiyaman (அதியமான்) gave the poet Avvaiyar a rare gooseberry, a nellikkani (நெல்லிக்கனி), said to bring long life. You can meet Avvaiyar in Avvaiyar and the Cowherd Boy.

The lesson

True generosity does not wait to be asked. Paari noticed a need that no one else saw, and he gave with his whole heart, even to a small plant that could never thank him.

Talk about it

• Some people might say giving a chariot to a plant was silly. What do you think? Why?
• Who in your life needs help but might not ask for it?
• What is something small and kind you could give or do for someone this week?