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In this episode, we listen to the angst-ridden voice of a lady, as depicted in Sangam Literary work, Aganaanooru 235, penned by Kazhaarkeeran Eyitriyaar. Set in the ‘Paalai’ or ‘Drylands landscape’, the verse paints a vivid portrait of the many flowers that bloom in the aftermath of the rains.
அம்ம வாழி, தோழி! பொருள் புரிந்து
உள்ளார்கொல்லோ, காதலர்? உள்ளியும்,
சிறந்த செய்தியின் மறந்தனர்கொல்லோ?
பயன் நிலம் குழைய வீசி, பெயல் முனிந்து,
விண்டு முன்னிய கொண்டல் மா மழை
மங்குல் அற்கமொடு பொங்குபு துளிப்ப,
வாடையொடு நிவந்த ஆய் இதழ்த் தோன்றி
சுடர் கொள் அகலின் சுருங்கு பிணி அவிழ,
சுரி முகிழ் முசுண்டைப் பொதி அவிழ் வான் பூ
விசும்பு அணி மீனின் பசும் புதல் அணிய,
களவன் மண் அளைச் செறிய, அகல் வயல்
கிளை விரி கரும்பின் கணைக்கால் வான் பூ
மாரி அம் குருகின் ஈரிய குரங்க,
நனி கடுஞ் சிவப்பொடு நாமம் தோற்றி,
பனி கடி கொண்ட பண்பு இல் வாடை
மருளின் மாலையொடு அருள் இன்றி நலிய,
‘நுதல் இறைகொண்ட அயல் அறி பசலையொடு
தொல் நலம் சிதையச் சாஅய்,
என்னள்கொல் அளியள்?’ என்னாதோரே.
In this trip to the drylands, we hardly get a glimpse of this harsh domain, as we listen to the lady say these words to her confidante, when her man continues to remain parted away, having left in search of wealth:
“Listen my friend, may you live long! As he goes about seeking wealth, won’t that lover of mine even think of me? Even when he does, burdened by the excess of his mission, will he forget to do anything about it?
After pouring down aplenty on fertile lands, disliking to pour anymore, huge, dark rain clouds have migrated to the mountains. At this time, when a mere drizzle of the passing clouds remain, and as the northern winds blow, the flame-lily with exquisite petals loosens its tight buds, and blossoms akin to an earthen lamp, lit by a flame; The curled buds of the common night glory open out their white flowers decorating green bushes, akin to the stars that adorn the sky; As crabs retire to their mud holes, in wide fields, where sugarcanes spread their stalks, their thick-stemmed white flowers, appear bent akin to birds drenched in the rain;
With immense fury, invoking fear, brimming with cold, the compassion-less northern winds continue to blow in this confusing evening hour and assail me with no mercy. How can he be without thinking, ‘With pallor, which reveals everything to others, residing firmly in her forehead, and her old beauty fading away, what will be the state of that pitiable one?’!”
Let’s listen to the lady’s lament! She starts by beckoning her friend’s attention, wondering if thoughts of her won’t even cross the man’s mind, and even if it does, would he just ignore it owing to the burden of his work. Then, she goes on to talk about the world around her, mentioning how the rains are done and dusted, and the clouds have gone on a vacation to the mountains. In this season, flowers are blooming everywhere, first it’s the radiant flame-lily, looking like a lit earthen lamp, then it’s the common night glory or the midnapore creeper, upon the green bushes, looking like stars in the sky, and then moving further on to the fields, as crabs run inside the mud holes, the sugarcane’s bent white flowers, give an appearance of soaked white birds, shivering in the rain. The lady talks about how as if the sight of all this blooming wasn’t enough to torment her, the northern winds had joined hands too, at piling suffering upon her.
The lady concludes by asking how could the man remain there, at peace, without considering the effect of all these elements, the pallor which announces her affliction to those around, and her ruined beauty, without even sparing a single moment of thought for her pitiable state! In essence, the lady says there’s beauty all around but none I can see for he is far away and it pains to think that he doesn’t think about me. Hope the expression of this angst helps the lady resolve her pain, and learn to receive the gift that we’ve been given, the one of delighting in the beauty of that blooming world around!
