NOTHING
IS VAIN
Srinivasa
Rangaswami
My
mind is benumbed, and deep descends a gloom
by
sagging thought nothing avails, nothing ever –
the
unremitting chase, the hot pursuit for
dizzy
heights of innervate 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 frenetic 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 is 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 is some way
induce
hope, or solace, or moments of 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
helped widen human horizon, advance
frontiers
of knowledge, skills and experience
and
constantly add to the common heritage
of
mankind on this earth.
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 young.