LETTERS FROM THE HIMALAYAS
ALL the caves near the top of Bason Mountain being engaged by the rains, Rama had to quit the Garden of Fairies at the top. He came down to a most lovely, lofty, level lawn where breezes keep playing all along. Jasmine, white and yellow, grows wild here together with various other sister flowers. Strawberries, crimson rose-berries are found in ripe plenty. On one side of the newly built hut a neat greensward extends far in gradually ascending slope between two rushing streams. In front is a charming landscape, flowing waters, fresh-foliage-covered hills and undulating forests and fields. Clean, smooth slabs of stone on the lawn form the royal tables and seats for Rama. If shade be needed, spreading groves furnish cheerful accommodation.
Rain
In three hours a hut was prepared by shepherds living in the forest. They made it rainproof to the best of their power. At night, severe rainstorm set in. Every three minutes lightning flashed, followed by rolling thunder at which each time the mountains shook and trembled. This Indra vajra kept up its continual strokes for over three hours. Water poured madly. The poor hut leaked, its resistance to the storm became so ineffective that an umbrella had to be kept open all the time under the roof to save the books from being drenched? The clothes became all wet. The ground being grass covered could not turn muddy, yet it was drinking to its full the water drops drizzling continuously from the roof. Rama is enjoying very nearly the “fish” and the “tortoise” life. This experience of the aquatic life for the night brings joy of its own.
Ze umar yak shabdh kam giro zinhar makhuft.
Translation -Count one night less from the full span of your life and sleep not at all.
Blessed is the storm to keep us up in the Lord’s company.
Translation -Not for any price could I, O Mountain-mover, give Thee up, not for a thousand, Thunderer! nor ten thousand, nor hundred times that, O Lord of countless bounty!
Rama’s interpretation:— Whether, O Shakra (Almighty) thou be far (in roaring clouds), or, O Vritra-slayer (i.e., doubt-destroyer), near at hand (in blowing winds); here, heaven penetrating songs { piercing prayers) are being sent as long-maned steeds for thee (to ride on and) come sharp to one who has pressed out the juice (of his existence) for thee. Come, sit in my heart, partake of the wine of my life (Soma).
Man is not meant to waste all his time in petty fears and cautions; how shall I live and oh! what shall become of me, and all such foolish nonsense. He ought to have at least as much self-respect as fishes and birds and even trees have. They grumble not at storm or sunshine, but live as one with nature. My Atman, I myself am the pouring rain. I flash. I thunder. How beautifully awful and strong I am. Sivoham songs gush forth from the heart.
Amekhalam sancharataam ghanaanaam……
No day or night passes without bringing a heavy shower of rain. And as described in the first sloka of Kalidas quoted above, Rama is often caught by showers in his daily climbs up the hill. But there being no caves in the near neighbourhood he has to take the very clouds for his umbrella and to enjoy the showers as his.
Happy the cedars and pines as described in the second sloka, which though quivering and shivering, offer on their bodies as target for the cool showers of the Ganges’ spray.
O the good fortune to bare our bosom before raging coolness, stormy grace