Traditional expositors of the Tirukkural dive deep into its three-fold structure—virtue (aram), wealth (porul) and love (inbam)—unfurling each couplet like a gem under a jeweler’s loupe. Ancient scholars such as Manakkudavar and Parimelalhagar didn’t treat these short, pithy verses as isolated aphorisms. Instead, they wove rich narratives around them, drawing parallels with everyday life, Panchatantra tales and Vedic lore to drive home the poet-saint’s moral compass.

Manakkudavar’s approach often feels like settling into a fireside chat. He peppered the text with familiar anecdotes, making ethical precepts accessible to village folk and scholars alike. Parimelalhagar, on the other hand, took a more analytical route—pinpointing linguistic subtleties, debating alternate meanings of single words, and clarifying syntax in a way that still shapes Tamil scholarship today.

Sub-commentaries from later eras layered even more nuance. Some highlighted overlaps with Buddhist and Jain thought, others emphasized the Kural’s universality—arguing it transcends sectarian lines. During recent decades, these traditional interpretations found new life in universities, apps and podcasts, especially as people crave bite-sized life-hacks in an age of information overload. Even mindfulness coaches nod to couplets on self-restraint and mental discipline, echoing the Kural’s timeless nudge toward inner balance.

A witty proverb surfaces in many commentaries: “Small drops make a mighty ocean.” This perfectly captures how Thiruvalluvar’s terse couplets accumulate into a sweeping guide for personal integrity, civic responsibility and mature love. Today’s readers might scroll through social media, but centuries-old commentaries remind that true wisdom doesn’t flit away—it sinks deep, like a well-planted seed.