Rabindranath Tagore

[Ꮙℓἇ∂ἇ..aka Reɪvən ღ]

Rabindranath Tagore..

Born on May 7, 1861 the Bard of Bengal, Rabindranath Tagore has inspired generations of people through his writings, poetry and thoughts. Tagore was much ahead of his time and his works were loved not only in India but across the world. His much-acclaimed work 'Gitanjali', which was first published in 1910 and later translated and published into English in 1912, won him the prestigious Nobel Prize in Literature in 1913 for "his profoundly sensitive, fresh and beautiful verse, by which, with consummate skill, he has made his poetic thought, expressed in his own English words, a part of the literature of the West." In fact, Rabondranath Tagore was the first non-European to ever win a Nobel Prize!

Rabindranath Tagore is viewed as the lighthouse of literature, art and culture. Nature had always inspired the bard greatly. The poet had particular affinity with the monsoon season. The season when bountiful nature unfolds her beauty, is uniquely captured by Tagore.
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Rabindranath's familiarity with the Bengal monsoon intensified during his trips to the family estate at Shilaidaha. The vast landscapes and the swirling rivers  seemed to foster a sense of liberated creativity in close proximity with nature. Tagore's lyrics also resonate with the pitter-patter of the rain, droning sounds of the wind, thrumming sound of thunder and lightning, swaying branches and other sounds that form an integral part of the season. Sometimes when “𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘂𝗱𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗽 𝘂𝗽𝗼𝗻 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘂𝗱𝘀”
(Megher Pore Megh Jomechhe, Gitanjali), it appears gloomy and one feels melancholic. Often memories come drifting to the mind.

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New Rains

My heart dances today — dances like a peacock.
Like the shimmer of its plumes,
My heart glistens with rapturous colours.
When I see the sky, my longing loses itself in euphoria.
My heart dances today — dances like a peacock.

The clouds rumble, rumble high up in the heavens.
The rain rushes in.
The new stalks of rice quiver.
Doves shiver silently in their nests, frogs croak in flooded fields,
The clouds rumble, rumble in the heavens.

I see the clouds’ tear-filled eyes lined, lined with blue kohl.
Ecstasy innervates
The grass and deep shady woods.
The floral bowers bloom with a new zest.
I see the clouds’ tear-filled eyes are lined with blue kohl.

Oh, who has untied her hair in gay abandon, in abandon on the palace's roof?
Who has covered her bosom
In blue, who has come
Back to play with slivers of lightning?
Oh, who has untied her hair in abandon on the palace's roof?

Oh, by the riverbank lined with grass, who sits in dark raiment dripping purity?
The young malati flowers wonder distractedly
As they gaze at the distant skies, where
Does the vessel float as it leaves the ghats?
Oh, by the riverbank lined with grass, who sits in dark raiment?

Oh, who swings today on the lonely swaying bakul branch, swings and sways?
The bakul flutters and falls.
An aanchal* soars to the the sky with yearning,
A lock of hair flies to cover the eyes, the karabi flower drops.
Oh, who swings today on the lonely swaying bakul branch?

In this chaos, who has moored his boat, his new boat by the riverside?
Clumps of cotton-like moss
Fill the watery banks.
The clouds sing soulful songs with tear-filled eyes.
In this chaos, who has moored his new boat by the riverside?

My heart dances today —
Dances like a peacock.
A heavy downpour falls on the new leaves,
The garden quivers with the chirrup of crickets.
The river has crossed the bank and approaches the village.
My heart dances today — dances like a peacock.

*Loose end of a Saree

(This poem has been translated by Mitali Chakravarty)

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