Tagore
knitted each tie with the cords of harmony. Never assertive, he drew
and captured the heart by an irresistible magnetism. Rare blossom
of poesy blooming in the garden of the Lord, attracting others by
a natural fragrance!
In his melodious voice, Rabindranath read to us a few of his exquisite
poems, newly created. Most of his songs and plays, written for the
delectation of his students, have been composed at Santiniketan.
The beauty of his lines, to me, lies in his art of referring to
God in nearly every stanza, yet seldom mentioning the sacred Name.
"Drunk with the bliss of singing," he wrote, "I forget myself and
call thee friend who art my lord."
The following day, after lunch, I bade the poet a reluctant farewell.
I rejoice that his little school has now grown to an international
university, "Viswa-Bharati," where scholars of all lands have found
an ideal setting.
"Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by
narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms toward perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the
dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by Thee into ever-widening
thought and action;
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country
awake!" {FN29-4}
RABINDRANATH TAGORE
{FN29-1} The English writer and publicist, close friend of Mahatma
Gandhi.
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