This is just a simple love story which happened in that bit of the Earth where it was still possible to find pure water, and dense rocks.
Scientists say that that the entire Universe is made up of just five elements. There must certainly be equations taught in long forgotten mathematics classes which will tell you the exact number of possibilities. Then there is the question of proportions of combinations.
This is just a simple love story which happened in that bit of the Earth where it was still possible to find pure water, and dense rocks, with heads thrust fearlessly into the blue sky, hiding veins of gold and silver, like blood vessels in a healthy body.
The group of rocks formed a mountain range. This was a place which had not yet been discovered by tourists. The energetic ones clambered up rockfaces and planted flags of their country and expedition at the very top. Some mountains came to resemble teeth, with toothpick flagpoles on them, the fabric having rotted away long ago.
The lazier ones, but who hated any mountain top to be untrodden by them, went up by helicopters. They posted pictures of themselves on Instagram, wearing expensive sunglasses that hid their eyes but with open mouthed smiles. The height of the mountain, the country it was situated in, the terrain, the toughness of climb, were all carefully documented and commented on.
But this mountain range was unexplored. It was not the highest mountain nor was it the most beautiful. The view from the top had not been captured by enough number of climbers to cause an interest in other people. There was also a legend about this mountain.
It was said that people from different galaxies had come down to Earth at this peak. They were beings who could create water, wind, fire, earth and space out of themselves. Yet they revered what they found of them on Earth.
They blew sweet cool breath to the winds and took in bad smells and toxic smoke. They splashed the water, exposing it to the sun and the winds, making this marriage of oxygen and hydrogen a joyous one. They bade the sun to cool and contain itself and learn dance, which became fire. They moulded the soft earth and sang songs to it so that even though it became hard rock it was never unfeeling. Most of all, they gave space. They knew how to use the five elements but never to abuse them.
It was here that the wise ones brought human beings and let them spread throughout. The first generation of human beings remembered all they had imbibed from the Divine ones who had placed them there. But as the children and their children were born, they forgot how to love, respect and nurture their home planet.
Yet this sacred mountain where it all took place remained pristine. Human beings knew that they were doing wrong things. But they never spoke about it to each other. They never went up that particular mountain too. There was a strong rumour that only those who knew to love and nurture could stay on this mountain. The others would be flung to its bottom and be dashed to their certain death. There was a sense of trepidation about this mountain and like an uncomfortable conversation topic, never spoken about in crowds.
So the strong rock with shades of black, white, brown, yellow and rust had to deal only with the wide open sky and the winds that skated down the curved dome of the sky. The mountain was not happy. The mountain was not unhappy either. It just was.
Now far below the foot of the mountain there was the green gold sea. The sea was a world in itself and knew all about the alien beings who had made human beings from the top of the mountain. It knew who the grandparents of the grandparents of the aliens were. But the sea kept its own counsel and just sang ballads in its watery waves.
There was however, a fast flowing stream of icy water. This was like a narrow river. The sun, moon and stars were reflected on it briefly, when the angle was right. There was a formation of rock, shaped like a palm, just above the river. The river used to think that it was held out to it in friendship and try to catch it with its spray. But the rock remained steady.
The river was running into the warmer waters of the sea. It knew that the sea was of its own kind. There were no differences in between them. Yet the river could not forget the mountain.
The mountain was so tall, so stately. The water was so soft, flowing. The river did not even know if the mountain had noticed it, let alone cared for it. Gently the river ran its cool fingers on the rocks at the bottom of the mountain. It never stopped its caress.
The river would ultimately merge with the sea. But until then it lingered by the mountain. The sea was the first to notice this. The burgeoning love for the mountain made the waters of the river different. The sea was already salty. But the love of the river—at one level steadier than the mountain—flavoured its waters sweet.
Sometimes like underground volcanos the water boiled, with hissing steam urging the stream not to be silly, not to go after impossible romances. Yet the river persisted.
The ancient sea whispered about the situation to the winds. All the winds, the zephyrs, the gusts, the breezes and the tornados sighed together in sympathy. The steadiness of the stream and its timorous love touched them.
They put their vast, airy brains together. They wanted the stream to be with the mountain. Finally, they ran through space and petitioned the sun who thought it was a brilliant scheme.
Through sunrays which were like hollow drinking straws, the sun sucked up the waters of the river and gently deposited them on top of the mountain in a deep pond.
The mountain could feel the tenderness, right at its crown. The rocks hollowed themselves to cup the waters. The river and the mountain were together however implausible their love affair seemed to be.
The strong stocky mountain was delighted to hold the silky water. But the mountain was where the alien beings had landed and it knew the laws of attraction. There would be evaporation from the river and then it would return as the nourishing rain.
Slowly the rock parted as a crack and water from the pond at the mountaintop cascaded down as a waterfall to merge with the immensity of the ocean.
The sun and the winds and all the elements ensured that this pairing of love was going to be as perennial as it was intense. No human being was there to interfere with what was a successful love story in the world of nature.
Thiruvathira Tirunal Lakshmi Bayi is XII Princess of the erstwhile state of