She loves him so much.
But the lovers seldom talk in the same parlance. When she so much feels endeared, he strays away somewhere in his thoughts, preoccupations or even for the sake of her necessities. But she feels piqued!
What this fellow...! He doesn't know my anguish. He seems to be cold and drifting..!
She talks in an oblique language. Yea most of the Sangam poetry is like that. Tangent hits but deft shots.
She just juxtaposes a real riding chariot with a toy chariot or thEr.
The poet calls it, the toy chariot as 'siru maa vaiyam'.
She taunts him saying, 'aray! baba...we are not lucky enough to ride in the chariot. But at least like children we are playing a chariot game, drawing the toy through back and forth in the halls of our house. What to do?
Like that, may be, some in this town, are lucky enough to ride this man. He also may bear their burden. But poor we! we just do little formalities of everyday affections and loving services, all very simple in his eyes.
The carpenter has made this toy chariot,
The boys can't ride in that.
So they make themselves happy
By drawing the car here and there.
Like that we are not lucky
To live full joint life.
But every now and then
we feel blessed
by doing small sevices
thinking that he likes them
But we feel happy at least
So we think
since the bangles are tight.
Oh don't you know him?
He of the town of public pond.
(Kuruntogai, Poet Thumbiser Keeranaar)
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