Sunday, January 22, 2006

Place: An open and unhindered nansei paddy field

Time: The break of dawn…described much more beautifully in Tamil as vaikaRai or athikAlai

The canal murmurs gently as if it were engrossed in a deep chant. A distant cock crows suggesting perhaps that the day has already dawned somewhere…a harbinger of hope perhaps. The stalks of the paddy ruffle with the warm breeze shivering in strange anticipation. The eastern sky blushes like the sImantham of Her forehead. The gentle sounds of dawn seem to awaken the lights of the day. In the midst of this growing hustle bustle, he seats himself on the bare wet earth.

His eyes are half opened, arms thrown out, chest bare. His forehead bears a single sharp streak of thAzampU kungumam. He focuses on the sky, which seems to glow like a glorious chariot made of virgin gold. The water now runs along the canal with a monotonous drone. The occasional crow paints its sudden flight against the stillness of the sky. An expression gradually spreads over his face…smile, calmness…perhaps and yet inexplicable. An expression that seems to exceed his physical form and spread gradually over the fields, the faraway trees, the river that feeds the canal and all the way to the sky. And in his half open eyes…

In his half open eyes is a form…an object of perception…a sight that is not seen outside and then reflected on the pupils but a sight that comes deep from inside and pervades the outside. A red form…a pleasingly red form. A blood red speck in the center of the dark pupil…a dot that could be very easily dismissed in the massiveness of the world around…and yet a dot that allures, indulges and traps he who looks into it. For when looked at closer…

When looked at closer, the dot is a microcosm…and in it is She seated on Her Emerald throne; Her crown of gold studded with diamonds blazing like a thousand suns in itself; the crescent moon on Her forehead sitting like a silver boat on the golden ocean of Her crown; the dark voluptuous curls of Her hair peeping through the effulgence of Her crown…a clear demarcation between the dazzle of Her crown and the dazzle of Her face…She sits. And Her face…

Her face puts the morning sun to shame. The brilliance of a solitary lamp in an endless darkness. The glow seems like that of molten gold, of a multitude of embers without a speck of ash in them. A strange amalgam of coolness and warmness radiates from it…Her forehead is like a blazing lotus with the kungumam forming the red ovary. Her dark eyes are like black pearls sitting in the pure white seat of an oyster. Her nose appears like a pArijAtha tree and Her mullAkku like the golden roots of the tree. Her ears curve in a sneering question as though mocking the purpose of the universe. Her lips smile a smile…a motherly smile that would make even the most pitiable life on earth blessed. The jewels on Her neck cling tightly to Her breasts like long famished children. Her shoulders droop under the weight of a fragrant garland and yet have room for the parrot. She clasps tenderly in Her hands the pAsam, angusam, thAmarai and karumbu vil. The vastness of Her bosom trickles down to a tender waist that curves like a golden river. Her thighs stay firm like pillars of an ancient temple. Her legs are folded, one resting on the other like dew on a lotus leaf. And draping all this splendour is Her red saree…red like the arunOdayam and emanating from it is a gentle glow like fragrance from a jasmine flower.

She sits there in all majesty and grandeur…and yet a tiny speck in his eye. The sun stands out in its white glory…the pristine morning glow flowing out like pure unadulterated knowledge. Now with a slow deep breath he closes his eyes and opens them again. As his eyes open, the redness inside flows out, beyond his physical form, onto the fields, kissing the paddy, grazing on the canal, caressing the birds on their flight and then finally merging with the daylight. The white sun now has a mild intangible hue of red, a tinge of the magnificent KamAkshi mixed with the pure undisturbed Sivam. A drop of rAjas that drives his action in the ocean of knowledge.