I am dedicating this blog to bard of Bengal Kabiguru Rabindranath Tagore. May 9, 2010 was his 150th birth anniversary. Throughout my life, I maintained a unique relation with Tagore’s work. My first encounter with Tagore was obliviously by ‘Sahaj Path’. Before that ‘Sonar Tari’ (The Golden Boat) was the poem which my brother used to recite many times, I was barely three or four, two lines of the poem puts lots of questions in my mind and I was very angry too
Thai nai thai choto se tari, aamari sonar dhane giyeche bahri
No room, no room, the boat is too small. / Loaded with my gold paddy, the boat is full.
I asked my granny, why police never catch the thief, who ran away with all gold paddy. Latter came to know it was all about the British, who were robbing our prosperity.
After moving to Jammy, then the place was full of Bengalis and we were having a Bengali section separately in our school. In high school, we always conducted many cultural programs and when a Bengali does that, Tagore will be always there. Specially ‘Basant Utsab’ (Spring Festival) would never happen without all that Tagore left behind.
Then I was fall prey to a thing that happen to most of the Bengalis, Tagore’s works overshadowed by Hindi film and English music, forgetting my roots totally. After coming back this time around, all of certain waked up or call it discovers myself all over. I have a bathroom-rejected voice so never tried to hum anything loudly but certainly my soul always there when I listen to his song.
In my inspiration or depression, joy or sorrow, always find a piece and then tell myself – ‘there is somebody else who is sharing your pains and happiness as same as you are going through now’. I try to take the positive notes from there and find myself all pumped up. Another thing that may be many people not aware of that Tagore's biggest gift to the world of literature was the short stories, no body written these the way he did. Songs (written and composed), poems for all ages, prose, short stories, novels, dance drama and painting, you name it and everything is there, in vast quantity and excellent quality(quantity and quality under one roof, a rare thing). It is difficult to pick up a few drop form this ocean, still giving a few.
‘Amaro parano Jaha Chai, Tumi tai, Tumi tai go’
What my heart desire, you are having it all
I also want to hum to someone (do not jump to the conclusion) of either sex or any age who is having all qualities which I appreciate.
Gram Chhara Ei Ranga Matir Path/The Little Red Muddy Road
I never been to a real village except one in Goa but you believe me or not this song remind me my all visits to Matheran.
‘Purano shei diner kotha Bhulbe kii re Hai o shei chokher dekha, praaner kotha Sheikii bhola jaaye’
The memories of the good old days can you ever forget it? It was seen by our eyes, was voice of our life can it ever be forgotten?
‘Neel nabaghono Asharh gogone til thain aar nahire. Ogo aaj tora jasne ghorer bahire."
There is virtually no space in the new deep dark-blue of the Asharh skies, Take heed all of you, don't venture out of your homes.
Kachhe theke dur rochilo
Though so near, yet you are far. You create separation within union. The sea of nectar lying ahead is a mirage. I cannot quench my thirst. I know you, yet I know you not.
Shapane dohe chhino ki mohe
The dream is now ended. Before you go do leave something behind,. A tear-stained glance, so that parting is memorable. Only sweet memories shall remain like the polestar or a melody…
Jakhun porbe na mor payer chinha
When my steps would touch this bank no more,/ When my life’s canoe I would row no more,
Tomar kachhe khache na mor kobir gorbo kora,/ Moha kobi, tomar paee dite chai je dhora.
My poet's vanity dies in shame before thy sight. O master poet, I have sat down at thy feet.
A poem from Geetanjali –
Death
O thou the last fulfilment of life,
Death, my death, come and whisper to me!
Day after day I have kept watch for thee;
for thee have I borne the joys and pangs of life.
All that I am, that I have, that I hope and all my love
have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy.
One final glance from thine eyes
and my life will be ever thine own.
The flowers have been woven
and the garland is ready for the bridegroom.
After the wedding the bride shall leave her home
and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night.
!!!There is no dearth in this ocean, global warming and greenhouse effect cannot destroy it, just take a dip and the feeling ……feel yourself!!!
Night's darkness is a bag that burst with the gold of dawn. - (Tagore - Stray Birds)
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