Eternal romance.

There is eternal romance in these ancient Hindu belief's.

The chataka birds.....that quenches its thirst only from raindrops.

Rishyasringa.... The chaste boy sage whose very presence in a place afflicted by drought brought in wake pouring rains,owing to his purity.

Sanat kumar ...the wise mind born son of Brahma .An ancient eternal, youth.


Thingal mumaari peidhal [tamil].....raining thrice a month. Nine days of sunshine and one day of rain .

Theory of creativity.

I have a theory,

A man's creativity is, from the womb.

A woman's creativity, is her womb.

Rain?

Are you a harp strum by celestials?

Are you here at the invitation of trees and plants?

Do you shower ,condensed ,by the kindness of some soul?

Do you foam on your own to tame this fiery earth?

What is your brief?

What is my grief?

That you could be the tears ,

Of one, who was once here.

Concert.

Nature is a concert.

The sound of falling rain,

The sweet notes of a bird,

The gurgle of gentle waves,

The rustle of leaves,

Are her background music.

Compensations.

A drop of dew dazzled with the brilliance of a diamond !

The crushed ice's comforting lustre was that of peerless pearls!

The gentle waves sparkled with smooth silver rakes!

How lucky I was to witness all this splendour at that fraction of time!

The dew rolled down from the blade of grass dissolving the diamond.

The crushed ice melted to a puddle,philandering away the pearls.

The waves lost their silver as the sun drew them to himself as he rose higher.

I was at the right place at the right time!

The compensations of life.

Rain.

What is this mystique called rain?

Why is it so magical?

Sunrise and sun set and the air I breathe,

Are so vital to my being,

Yet not one moment do I stop in my tracks,

to give it a thought,

Feel grateful or thankful or absorb it in wonder at all!


These feelings are reserved for Rain.

Rain is enthralling like a tinkling glass curtain.

It is distracting ,

It is unpredictable,

Yet when it rains it douses all grouses.

It makes life standstill in streets as well as in forests.

Rain ,can you ever be taken for granted?

Bubbles.

The woods are lovely ,dark and deep ,
But I have promises to keep ,
And miles to go before I sleep......are the popular lines of a 19 th cent American poet that reveals his take on life.

1800 years earlier ,the Indian king ,an ascetic as well as a poet Bharathri hari has made the following observation, in classical Sanskrit on life in his treatise Vairagya sataka... .


Ayur varshantam nranam parimitam ratru

thadharram gatam|

Tasyar dasya parasya chardhamparam balatva

vridhatvyoh|

Sesham vyasdhi vi yogadhu; Khashinta sevaddhibir

niyate|

Jive ' varita ghyabudbudha saukyam kutah

praninam|


Meaning...

100 years is the life span of man,

Half of that passes in the stillness of night,

And of the half remaining , half is childhood and old age.

The remainder is spent in service , with sickness ,separation and sorrow as companions.

And where happiness in life is like bubbles blown on water!


Down south Thondaradipodi Aazhwaar a devotee of Lord Vishnu ,in 8 th cent AD has couched his view on life in the following attractive verse in Tamil


Vedanool pirayum nooru manisartham puguverilim

Padhium urangipogum,nintrathil padhi aandu

Pedhai palakan aagum pinni pasee moopum thunbam

Aadhalal piravi ve'ndhyen Aranga ma nagarullane'!

Meaning...

Though Vedas allot 100 years of life to human beings'

Half of this is spent in sleeping,

The remaining half is confiscated by the ignorance of childhood, poverty, hunger, disease ,old age and sorrow.

Therefore ,do not grant me any more births , this my plea to you,the resident of Srirangam[ vishnu]