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In this episode, we perceive a dilemma unfolding, as depicted in Sangam Literary work, Aganaanooru 225, penned by Eyinanthai Makanaar Ilankeeranaar. Set in the ‘Paalai’ or ‘Drylands landscape’, the verse sketches the elements of this domain with intricate similes.
அன்பும், மடனும், சாயலும், இயல்பும்,
என்பு நெகிழ்க்கும் கிளவியும், பிறவும்,
ஒன்றுபடு கொள்கையொடு ஓராங்கு முயங்கி,
இன்றே இவணம் ஆகி, நாளை,
புதல் இவர் ஆடு அமை, தும்பி குயின்ற
அகலா அம் துளை, கோடை முகத்தலின்,
நீர்க்கு இயங்கு இன நிரைப் பின்றை வார் கோல்
ஆய்க் குழல் பாணியின் ஐது வந்து இசைக்கும்,
தேக்கு அமல் சோலைக் கடறு ஓங்கு அருஞ் சுரத்து,
யாத்த தூணித் தலை திறந்தவைபோல்,
பூத்த இருப்பைக் குழை பொதி குவி இணர்
கழல் துளை முத்தின் செந் நிலத்து உதிர,
மழை துளி மறந்த அம் குடிச் சீறூர்ச்
சேக்குவம் கொலோ நெஞ்சே! பூப் புனை
புயல் என ஒலிவரும் தாழ் இருங் கூந்தல்,
செறி தொடி முன்கை, நம் காதலி
அறிவு அஞர் நோக்கமும் புலவியும் நினைந்தே?
In this trip to the drylands, we get to see some striking images, as we listen to the man say these words to his heart, when it has been nudging him to part with the lady and go in search of wealth:
“Love, naivety, beauty, goodness, words that could melt the very bones and many other such attributes are all fused as one in her. Today I’m in her embrace right here; But tomorrow, I shall be elsewhere, where upon the swaying bamboos, sprouting amidst the bushes, carpenter bees have drilled narrow and exquisite holes, and through which summer winds rush through, sounding like the music of those melodious flutes, of cowherds, wielding long rods, and walking behind herds of cattle, in search of water. In that formidable drylands, soaring with forests, full of teak trees, Mahua trees sprout with branch ends, appearing like an opened-out quiver full with arrows, and have fully bloomed clusters of rounded Mahua flowers, which drop down and scatter, appearing like holed pearls on the red earth beneath. In those little hamlets there, which have forgotten the sight of a raindrop, is it possible for us to stay, O heart, as thoughts of her, who has low-hanging tresses, so thick and luxuriant like a raincloud, adorned with flowers; and a forearm decked with tight bangles, and her bewildered looks of suffering and sulking cross our minds?”
Let’s walk on through this difficult landscape and extract the essence therein! The man starts by listing the abstract qualities of the lady that endear her to him, talking about her affection, innocence, good looks and noble nature. He adds another nuanced quality, which made me smile, mentioning how her words seemed to have the power to melt his bones. Imagine the tenderness he would feel when he hears those words to make such a statement! Returning, the man says, ‘Today, I’m in the embrace of such exquisiteness, but tomorrow is another story!’
Then he goes on to talk about the place, where he’ll be at the next day, the drylands, and here he first brings before our eyes, bamboos sprouting tall amidst the bushes, and then takes us closer to the said bamboos, and points to little holes, which he explains have been made by carpenter bees. It’s not just sight that he gifts us with, but he asks us to listen intently, and then we hear the sound of summer winds flowing through these holes, and the man equates this music to that of the cowherds’ fine flute. This makes me think the inventor of the flute would most probably have been inspired from one such moment of inhaling the music of the breeze through a drilled bamboo, telling us that the most exquisite art of humans have their roots in nature!
Back to the verse once again, we find the man then talking about how in this drylands forest, there are teak trees and also Mahua trees, whose branch ends seem like an opened out quiver full of arrows. Only when I saw an image of a branch of this tree with flower ends, not yet bloomed, I fully comprehended the aptness of this simile. The man doesn’t stop with that one simile, but goes on to talk about how the bloomed flowers of this tree drop down and would appear like pearls gleaming on the red soil beneath. Another radiant simile! If the drylands are going to be so pretty, I’ll go there anyway, I want to say, but the man finishes this description with an image of the hamlets there, which have forgotten the meaning of rain, and we know that’s not going to be a great place to stay, especially in the sweltering summer. The man then describes the tangible beauty of the lady, talking about her cloud-like tresses and fine forearms, and concludes by wondering how on earth he’s going to remain there in the drylands, when the thoughts of her sorrow and anger come rushing to him! No doubt those thoughts will gush like the summer wind against the tiny holes of loneliness in his heart, singing in the melancholic tune of a flute from afar!
