(i) The Sea can be said to sleep when it is silent without throwing the waves up. But the waves are surging up and down all the time, be it day or night; this sleeplessness is attributed by the Āzhvār to its separation from the Lord.
(ii) The sea roars and it is mere sound with no meaning, just like the indistinct sound coming from a throat, choked with grief. The Āzhvār
In this third pāśuram of the chapter, Śrī Nammāzhvār, fully embodying the state of Parāṅkuśa Nāyakī, turns his attention from the sorrowful cries of the ibis to a far grander entity: the great ocean. In her overwhelming experience of separation from the Lord, she perceives the sea as a kindred spirit. She observes it losing its profound composure (gāmbhīryam), with