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Tapati and Samvarana
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there. He had had no opportunity of using his bow and arrows at all. He was too tired and hungry to walk any further. So he squatted on a boulder under a giant banyan tree and felt like eating dust and leaves. But out of sheer fatigue he soon fell asleep.
In another part of the jungle, a maiden, by her mere presence, had dispelled gloom and grimness. Everything around her seemed to pay her homage. As she flitted about, the waterfall rambled with the resonance of a Vedic recitation, while the butterfly, the peacock, the rainbow and the flower provided a feast of colour. But who was she? No one knew her, though every leaf, pebble and insect could tell who she was. Not that she had been deliberately avoiding contact with men. She just had never met them. That was all. She never went out of her way to meet them, though her father had been deeply concerned about finding a suitable husband for her. If she herself chose her lord, her father naturally would feel greatly relieved. But she had no faith in her judgment, and her interests were safe in his hands. She was also scared of the pitfalls of youth, and she was determined to avoid them. Being thus extremely cautious, and conservative, she placed implicit faith in the sagacity of her father. She, therefore, gave no thought to the question of her marriage.
Her wanderings brought her to the spot where Samvarana lay unconscious. She had thus her first glimpse of man. She did not know what to say to him. But before saying anything, she wanted to make sure that he was alive. She took a tender twig and caressed his face with it. But he did not respond. TM-8
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