Nothing in Vain
Srinivasa Rangaswami
My mind is benumbed, deep descends a
gloom
by sagging thought nothing avails,
nothing ever
the unremitting chase, the hot
pursuit for
dizzy heights of inebriate power,
mounting mounds of worldly wealth,
lush valleys of lustful pleasure,
love and laurels, and summits of
spiritual ascent,
all the fret and fever and phrenetic
gyrations
in quest for self-identity - when, for sure,
all this must abruptly end,
as the unseen hand pulls up the
string,
and the puppet is put back and shut
in silence.
Depressed, in the darkening cavern as
I groped,
streamed in a thin streak of light
illumining a new purpose and meaning
in objects around. The humblest life lived,
I could see, is not lived in vain.
Each one of us, in varied hue,
our distinct vasanas we bring,
to touch and tint lives around us,
and
leave imprints, however faint, that
in some way
induce hope, or solace, or happiness
in lives of others we hardly know.
Unaware, all the time, we scatter
afar
Pollens that enkindle, enrich
some waiting souls somewhere. And
myriad memories we leave behind,
as monuments of our living.
And strivings steadfast of dour
spirits
have served to widen human horizon,
advance
frontiers of knowledge, skills and
experience
and constantly add to the common
heritage
of mankind on this planet.
There is verily a hidden purpose and
a plan
in all of God’s creation. Only we do not see.
Every end presages a new beginning
in a grand cycle of perpetual renewal
and evolution. So that this our earth
shall remain
forever new and young.