ONE HUNDRED
YEARS OF GITANJALI
AND INDIA'S FIRST NOBEL
AND INDIA'S FIRST NOBEL
(TAGORE’S SONG OFFERINGS)
(By Rema Prasanna Pisharody)
“I came out on the
chariot of the first gleam of light, and pursued my voyage through the
wildernesses of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet.”
From the prayer room
of Life there emerged a garland of poems which enriched the innermost mysteries
of the complex human nature and conquered the world. There no loud announcement
and gallant claims in Gitanjali . We hear not the trumpets of a vanquisher in
his offering but a prayer like soothing song.
‘Thou hast made me
endless, such is the pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again
and fillest it ever with fresh life. This little flute of a reed thou hast
carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally
new.’
Light of thy music
illumines the world.. The life breath of your music, runs from sky to sky. The
holy stream of your music breaks through all stony obstacles and rushes on..
Reading Tagore is like
a Prayer. His words got this magnetic impact and take the reader to world that
like that of heaven. He blends his verse in a prayer garland and offers
to a supreme mystic power. It travels far across the seas and horizons and
continents and a celestial world.
‘Now it is time to sit
quite face to face with thee, and to sing dedications of life in this silent
and overflowing leisure. ‘
His mystic verse had
the power to mesmerize a world. In his invaluable offerings, Nobel was
yet another precious gem.
Who are you, reader,
reading my poems an hundred years hence?I cannot send you one single flower
from this wealth of the spring, one single streak of gold from yonder clouds.
Open your doors and
look abroad.
From your blossoming garden gather fragrant memories of the vanished flowers of an hundred years before.
In the joy of your heart may you feel the living joy that sang one spring morning, sending its glad voice across an hundred years.
From your blossoming garden gather fragrant memories of the vanished flowers of an hundred years before.
In the joy of your heart may you feel the living joy that sang one spring morning, sending its glad voice across an hundred years.
There the purest voice heard from a century old sanctuary, a prayer from the meditating promontories of life. He gifted us the first Nobel for our country and unfortunately we could not save that Nobel in our unsafe museums. There remains the replica but his songs were pure and fresh like a morning prayer; Songs of Offerings.
Even after one hundred
years, people read song offerings to understand what hides behind the
mystery of his whole prayer songs.
There this pure prayer we hear from a heart which adorned a century in its simple prayer room.
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