That night, Varāhamihira climbed the stone steps of the Ujjain observatory. He watched the cirrus clouds, which the Brhat Samhita called ‘tāra-patha’ —the path of stars. They were moving east to west, but high, thin. Then, just before dawn, he felt it: a cold gust from the north-west.
“The wise man who knows the marriage of wind and water, He sees the future not in a crystal, but in a drop of rain.” the brhat samhita of varaha mihira varahamihira
One sweltering summer, a great drought gripped Malwa. The rivers shrank to silver threads; the soil cracked like old pottery. King Vikramaditya, a patron of knowledge and war, summoned Varāhamihira to the throne room. That night, Varāhamihira climbed the stone steps of
He closed the manuscript.