𝔎𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔦: The virtue of infinite love

Chapter 1

A breeze of ardent tenderness and devotion swished past the exquisite temple town of Srirangam. The smouldering sun cast a golden gloss upon the eternal abode of Perumal. The temple town as usual was bustling with life and joy. A lotus among the flowers is the lands of Srirangam among the lands of the earth. In the centre of the town was situated Sri Ranganathaswamy temple in all its glory. The massive prakarams in the form of concentric rectangles surrounded the temple granting the ethereal temple and its inhabitants protection. 

The holy sacred pools glistened with otherworldly energy epitomising the paarkadal upon which Thirumagal kozhunan along with Aadhiseshan and Alaimagal rest. The green grove whose thick branches keep out, as with a dark canopy, the bright host of the sun's rays! The murmuring of innumerable bees reminds one of the soft music of the flute and the lute. The bulbuls can enter here, but not the darkness of sins; and hark, how they now sing in concert. See! the monkeys sit around and watch the dance of the peacock. Here is a pond of water, clear as crystal, with a royal swan sitting enthroned in its midst on a beautiful lotus. Another peacock is dancing there on the bank and cuckoo is calling to it from a branch. Hark to the cry of the water-fowl that sounds like the flourish of a drum. Look at this magnificent lotus on which the flower of the agave, growing on the bank, has shed its white pollen in abundance. Srirangam is one of Bharat's greatest treasures.

Within the centre of the temple is situated the sanctum sanctorum, inside which rests the glorious sirpum of Padmanaban lying upon the mighty Aadhiseshan. His transcendental visage is unfathomable to the normal eye. Only the purest and pious of souls can witness its divinity to its truest potential. One such pure and devout soul was Periyalvar, residing in the nearby town of Srivilliputhur. Being the foremost among the alvars his devotion was pure and pristine, to the point where the lord himself visits him in his dreams.

Being the devout soul that he is, every morning Vishnucittar venerates his lord. Performing rituals and prayers with utter adoration chanting the lord's name with his very soul."Om Namo Bhaghavate Vasudevaya", uttered Periyalvar with extreme adoration and reverence. He considered Kannan as his own child and loved him as Maiya Yashoda did. Whenever he gazed at his Kannan overwhelming maternal love overtook his soul. Oh, how he longs to have a child-like his Kanna! Ever mischievous, ever loving and ever divine like him!

He sighs in melancholy. No father would give him his daughter, for he had no position, wealth or property. The sole purpose of his life has been Thirumaal, Thirumaal and only Thirumaal! Gazing around the serene town of Srivilliputhur, Vishnucittar calmed down his trembling heart and left for his abode.

By this time the sun had set, and the moon rose in the east, making the great and magnificent city look still more picturesque and beautiful. In the grove, the lotus flowers slowly folded their petals; and the swans, which were seated on them, flew up to the comfortable and leafy tops of the coconut trees, to rest for the night. The water-lilies opened out and shone in their fresh and delicate beauty. The nightbird called out to her mate, announcing the fall of day, and other birds of the wood retired to their nests. The udders of the cows which had been grazing all day were now overflowing with milk, and the cows thought of their calves and wended homeward, lowing eagerly. In the city, the Brahmans tended the sacrificial fire, and bracelet maidens lit the lamps. The flute and the lute made sweet music in many quarters. And like a woman, who, having lost her husband in battle, re-enters her father's home, Evening, widowed of the Sun and sorrowing newly, came into the city, robed in the grey twilight. The moon rose higher in splendour in a clear, cloudless sky, and the shadow in the moon seemed all the darker, like faults in great men. The sky was transformed, and the moon's rays streamed into the grove through the crevices in the thick foliage like milk poured from a silver pitcher.