Vanamadevi, oh, Vanamadevi! In the vastness of her wisdom, she seems to embody all of humankind. Men allow Paranjothi, the Supreme Light, to slip away from the sky of their hearts. Then, in the dark corridors of temples and in the sanctum sanctorum, they light a hundred thousand lamps to seek that very Paranjothi.

Vanamadevi, too, performs such a clever act every day! She lets the radiant Sun God slip away from her presence into the sea. Later, she is stricken with sorrow, lamenting that she cannot see her lord. Lighting a hundred thousand lamps, she searches for the Sun! Is it only a hundred thousand lamps she lights? She kindles countless, sleepless lights, and through the whole night, without rest, she keeps searching for the Sun!

When Vandiyathevan regained consciousness and opened his eyes, he saw before him the glow of thousands of flames. He wondered in amazement which temple could be so magnificently adorned with so many lamps. Then he realized they were not lamps at all, but stars shining in the sky. He understood that he was lying stretched out in a boat, and that a rope had been tied around his waist over a damp cloth. The cool, shimmering breeze caressed his body, filling him with boundless comfort and peace. The resonant hum rising from the tranquil sea brought a rare tranquility to his soul.

Amidst that sound, a song reached his ears. What was that song? Where, when, had he heard it before?

“When the ocean lies calm and still, And the breeze comes creeping soft, Why does the wind swirl and beat Within the chambers of my heart? When the waves of the sea are at rest, Why does the inner ocean surge?” Aha! That mysterious woman! Poonguzhali! He straightened himself and sat up, looking ahead.

Yes, it was her! She was rowing the boat! Singing that sorrowful song, she was rowing the boat! Just as a flash of lightning in the dark reveals many things in a single instant, the events of the previous night flashed vividly before Vandiyathevan’s mind. That is, he remembered only up to the point when Poonguzhali had dived into the sea and swum towards him as he struggled in the waves. After that, he could recall nothing. That woman must have rescued him and brought him aboard the boat. Only when the boat rocked, to keep him from falling back into the sea, she had tied a rope around his waist and fastened it to the crossbeam of the boat. She had wound the rope over his garment so that it would not chafe his skin. Vandiyathevan touched the knot tied around his waist. He found that his money and the letter were safe.

“Aha! What a grave mistake it was to suspect this woman! If she had harbored any evil intentions, was there any need for her to save me? How much effort she must have taken to haul my limp, unconscious body from the sea into