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Thou dids't lie hidden in my heart

yet i did not see Thee.
i gazed upon the world without
but did not look within me.
whenever i loved, whenever i hoped,
Thou wert always there by me,
even when pain filled my heart, yet,
i did not turn to Thee.
Thou dids't abide in me as joy
through all the varied games of life
and rapt in that delight of Thee
i let the days go idly by
whenever i sang of my joys and woes
Thou dids't put those songs to tune
hidden deep within my being, yet,
i did not sing of Thee.
(Translation : Maitrayee Sen)

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Interpreting Death in Tagore's Poetry

79 Jyotirmoy Ray

Haiku

83 Kumkum Bhattacharya Our Pushu di - Rabindranath's 'Pupe'

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|, 1419

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Manoj Joshi,
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Virendra Singh Rahi, Paramjit Singh, Sudhin Gupta, M.A.
Jomraj, Pulak Biswas, Biman B. Das, Sabita Nag, Anupam
Sud, Jivan Adelja, Jagadish Dey, Jyotirmoy Ray, Usha Biswas,
Rajendra Agarwal, Krishan Ahuja, Santosh Jain, M. Dharmani,
R.S. Gill, Ruby Bhattacharjee, Prabir Kumar Das, Sisir Kumar
Datta, Haimanti Das student artists Bharat Lama,
Rohit Kumar, Anamika Adhikari S
Dhruva Chaudhuri, Tapati Raychoudhuri, Sumantra Nag

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- The cover design, including the back cover
is aesthetically appealing. The sketches and line drawings
enhance the look. Hindol's attempt at being bi-lingual is laudable. & & - ,

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|, 1419

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From the only edition (April 2012) of Hindol that I have seen, the
publication to me appears very appealing in that it is diversified with
both Bengali and English pieces of writing, and so catering to people
comfortable with either or both the languages.
The cover of the publication too is finely designed being sober
with soft color tones and an artistic letter-writing, making an absorbing
viewing. Alongside, the back cover donning one of the earliest paintings
of Late Prof. Jyotish Bhattacharjee surely will be best discernible to an
artist than anyone not in the field.
This year (2012) being celebrated as the closing of Gurudev
Rabindranath Tagores 150th birth anniversary year, it could not be
more apt, in the Bengali New Year month, for a primarily Bengalibased publication to select topics centering the poet.
An additional attention-grabbing feature of Hindol reflected in the
edition is the teams attempt at re-connecting with our Bengali neighbour
Bangladesh through coverage of a fine arts exhibition comprising 50
artists contributions.
I wish Hindol continuity and success in all its future editions, and
convey full appreciation to the team behind its creation along with its
writers.
31st May, 2012

|, 1419

Monisha Bhattacharjee
New Delhi

ARTIST : V.S. RAHI

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have heard ere long that both your parents are dead, and that your cousins are
fighting over the property left intestate by them. Two widows survive your father...

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for Bengali, but that was a fact. But now - I even go to the length
of believing that our Blank Verse "thrashes the Englishers" as an
American would say!...

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|, 1419

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After his admission to the first rehearsal, and before he had entered
upon his task of the English translation of the Ratnavali, Modhu,
with his partiality for English taste exclaimed to me (aside) 'what
a pity the Rajahs4 should have spent such a lot of money on such
a miserable play. I wish I had known of it before, as I could have
given you a piece worthy of your Theatre'. I laughed at the idea of
his offering to write a Bengali play... The next morning he called
me at the rooms of the Asiatic Society for the loan of a few
Vernacular and Sanskrit books, dramas specially, and in the course
of a week or two read to me the first few scenes of his Sarmishta...
It was, I believe, the very next week that he handed over to me the
MS, with a request to show it to my friends the Rajahs and Babu
(since Maharaja) Jotindra Mohun.5

1859 Captive Ladie g

- Now that I have tasted blood, I am at it again. y
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- S M e The words come unsought, floating in the stream of (I suppose I
must call it) Inspiration!... I began the poem in a joke, and I see
I have actually done something that ought to give our national Poetry
a good lift...
4

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|, 1419

37

38

'joke'? P
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, no real improvement in the Bengali Drama could be expected until
blank verse was introduced into it. f the very nature and
construction of the Bengali language S y
the French, which is no doubt a more copious and elaborate
language than our own has not in it any poem in blank verse.
the Bengali is born of the Sanskrit than which a more copious and elaborate
language does not exist. what if I succeed
in proving to you that the Bengali is quite capable of the blank verse form of
poetry? f I shall willingly stand all the expenses of printing
and publishing any poem which you may write in blank verse.

f f Done, said he, clapping his hands, you will get a few stanzas from
me within two three days, and as a matter of fact within three or
four days the first canto of the My was sent to me.

f g
1801 Grammar
The Bengalee may be considered as more nearly allied to the
Sungskrita than any of the other languages of India.... four fifths of
the words in the language are pure Sungskrita. Words may be
compounded with such facility, and to so great an extent in Bengalee
as to convey ideas with the utmost precision, a circumstance which
adds much to its copiousness. On these, and many other accounts,
it may be esteemed one of the most expressive and elegant languages
of the East. (Growth of Bengali Prose - R.C. Majumdar)

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I am aware, my dear fellow, that there will, in all likelihood, be
something of a foreign air about my drama; but if the language be
not ungrammatical, if the thoughts be just and glowing, the plot
interesting, the characters well maintained, what care you if there be
a foreign air about the thing?... In matters literary old boy, I am too
proud to stand before the world in borrowed clothes. I may borrow
a neck-tie or even a waistcoat, but not the whole suit.

|, 1419

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As a scribbler, I am of course proud to think that you like my Farces,
but to tell you the candid truth, I half regret having published those
two things. You know that as yet we have not established a National
Theatre, I mean we have not as yet got a body of sound, classical
Dramas to regulate the national taste, and therefore we ought not
to have Farces.

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|, 1419

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what Bethlehem is to the Christians, what Varanasi is to the Hindus,
what Gaya is to the Buddhists, that or more Ajmer is to the
Mussalmans.1

|, 1419

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Zafar's mausoleum and grave in Rangoon

Photos : Ahona Chatterjee (student)

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The Shrine of Khwaja Kutubuddin Bakhtiyar Kaki, known also as
Kutab-ul-Aktub, once the most famous at Delhi now occupies only
the second place, a circumstance doubtless due to the fact that the
Dargah of Nizamuddin Auliya was more conveniently situated for
resort from the various cities which succeeded and superseded the
original Delhi.4

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Nizamuddin's Khanqah (spiritual retreat) and Chillah (meditation room) adjoining

Humayun's Tomb. He lived here for 65 years and died here. Go past Humayun's Tomb
parking lot beyond the Dargah of Pattey Shah up to Gurudwara Damdama Sahib.

|, 1419

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The Chistis avoided identification with the center of political power,

refused to accept Government services or perpetuate spiritual
succession in their own family.5

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in divine knowledge, in this spot repose in their last sleep.

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Each year, on the last Wednesday in the second Islamic month of
Safar, the ghusl, cleansing of the tomb, takes place with rose water
at two thirty in the morning, the time of the Sufis birth. To celebrate
the fragrance of his birth, the whole dargah compound is decorated
with flowers and lights. The qawaalis begin after the ishah, mandatory night prayers, on Tuesday night and continue till the fajr,
predawn prayers on Wednesday.
For the lovers of Hazrat Nizamuddin, this is the most beautiful night
in Delhi. While the rest of the city sleeps, angels spread nur, radiance
from the heavens. The dargah atmosphere is charged with a magical
spirituality. On this blessed night, all the qawaals of the city sing
together, the music free of all politics and rivalries. The devotees
present are sincere; they are there to seek blessings, not just to enjoy
the music. The night offers nourishment for the soul and a genuine
experience of spiritual music.8

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|, 1419

~
Surrounded by rings of shanty huts, the settlement led through
a warren of ever-narrowing lanes and alleys, past crumbling tombs
and collapsing mosques, deeper and deeper into the past. The
further Dr Jaffrey and I went into the vortex of vaulted passage ways,
the less and less sign there was first of the twentieth century, with
all its noise and cars and autorickshaws, then of the nineteenth and
eighteenth centuries with their blank-faced late Mughal town houses.
By the time we ducked under a narrow arch and emerged into the
daylight of the central enclosure, we were back in
the Middle Ages; the legacy of the Tughluk period was lying all
around us.9

V
e
Once his spiritual guide and teacher Hazrat Baba Farid prayed for
him as follows, "Seventy maunds of salt be consumed everyday in
your kitchen." This actually happened. Besides this, seventy camel
loads of onion skin and vegetable waste were carried out from his
kitchen everyday.10

V U Z X
The tomb is not the work of any single individual or of any particular
age. The reverence of successive generations has extended, embellished
and renovated the original building. Muhammad Tughlaq built a
cupola over the grave. His sucessor, Fiuz, claims to have added
arches and sandalwood lattices. In 1562 Faridum Khan rebuilt the
tomb, and 46 years later Farid Murtaza Khan supplied a lovely
canopy of mother of pearl and wood.... In 1652-53 Alamgir II
devoutly offered his grateful thanks to the saint in an inscribed tablet
for his elevation to the throne... In 1882-83 Khurshid Jah of Hyderabad
built a marble balustrade around the grave... the Nizam of Hyderabad...
liberally provided for the restoration of the faded paintings of the
dome.11

V q S

V
SL [ &7,
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|, 1419

53

54

Dargah of Fatima Bibi

next to Oberoi Hotel

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Dargah of Mai Sahiba (Nizamuddin's mother) at Adchini

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|, 1419

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|, 1419

55

56

The Shyakh initiated women disciples by reciting prayers over a cup
of water. He would dip his finger in a cup of water and then send
it to the woman, who dipped her finger in the same cup and drank
the blessed water.13

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|, 1419

Chiragh-e-Dilli's grave

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Emperor Mohammad Shah Rangeela (1719-48) had an outer enclosure
erected with four imposing gateways. These survived till the 1950s.
Sadly, except for a ruined chattri or two, a few broken fragments
of this battlemented wall and the southern gateway, nothing survives.14

|, 1419

57

58

Bahlol Lodi's Tomb next to Chirag-e-Dilli's Dargah

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|, 1419

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60

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|, 1419

, (
[ ], &
On the west wall of the tomb are fixed two rings, while steps cut
in the northeastern side of the dome are interesting and unusual. As
per local tradition, the rings were fixed by thieves for scaling up
the walls who carried off the original golden finial.15

f ~ --~ ,
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1

2
3

4
5
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8
9
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The Sufi Saints of the Indian Subcontinent, Zahurul Hasan Sharib, Munshiram
Manoharlal Publishers Private Limited

g ~ g 33
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Delhi Past & Present, H.C. Fanshawe, 1902
Invisible City - The Hidden Monuments of Delhi, Rakshanda Jalil, Niyogi
Books

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The Sufi Courtyard, Sadia Dehlvi, Harper Collins
City of Djinns : A year in Delhi, William Dalrymple, Flamingo
The Sufi Saints of the Indian Subcontinent

11

Delhi and its Monuments, Surendra Nath Sen, 1948

12

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Invisible City

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|, 1419

61

62

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|, 1419

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|, 1419

63

64

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|, 1419

donation
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|, 1419

65

66

ARTIST : BIRESWAR SEN

(Watercolour : Original 2.5"3.5")

Silence
Akham Gautam Singh

There is a silence in me
Which speaks louder than my voice,
And the more I try to understand it
The more my life gets filled with voids.
There is a silence in you
Pregnant with better things than you ever said;
But you never explored it because
Human as you are, of the unknown you are afraid.
There is a silence in all of us
Which asserts itself through its persistence,
And when the universe has taken its course
What else would be leftexcept silence?

|, 1419

67

This issue of
HINDOL

is supported
by

MANDIRA MITRA
in memory of her mother

SABITRI MITRA

I feel that the true India is an idea and not a mere geographical
fact. India will be victorious when this idea wins victory, the idea of 'Purusham mahantam aditya-varnam tamasah
parastat', the Infinite Personality whose light reveals itself
through the obstruction of darkness. Our fight is against this
darkness, our object is the revealment of the light of this
Infinite Personality of Man.
From Tagore's letter to C.F. Andrews of 13th March 1921. Tagore
wrote a letter every day to Andrews during his
sea voyages from America to Europe and from
Europe to India and made a present of the whole bunch
to Andrews upon his arrival at Santiniketan.

|, 1419

68

ARTIST : BHARAT LAMA (student)

|, 1419

69
Ajanta Dutt
Greater Kailash I,
New Delhi

Interpreting Death in
Tagore's Poetry

"And when Man burst his mortal bounds, is not the

Boundless revealed in that moment?"

Death is not a spectral image lurking in shadows and darkness.

Death is not a predatory monster stalking the steps of unsuspecting
individuals. Death is not a frightening figure of darkness, casting pallor
on life. Death is not an instrument of destruction, triumphing over
humanity. Death does not come as the end in the poetry of Rabindranath
Tagore, but leads him forward in a journey of fresh discovery.
The 'Narrative' of Death :
Tagore, practically the youngest member of his rather large family
of the Jorasankho household, was a lonely boy, divorced from the
closeness of his parents, especially his mother whom he lost very early.
He admits that when his mother died, he was "quite a child," and the
event did not really have much impact on him.1 He does not write about
his wife's death either although she too left him as early as 1902, but
the passing of a mother becomes the subject of his poem "Prashna" in
his book of prose-poems Lipika.
Father came back from the burning ghat
took his son to lap; the boy asked, 'Where is mother?'
Father looked upward and said, 'In heaven.'
That night the father overwrought with grief,
keeps now and then groaning in sleep.
On all sides the darkened houses are like the demon kingdom's

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70

Interpreting Death in Tagore's Poetry

guards.
Sleeping at their posts.
In naked body the boy has his eyes lifted to the sky.
Whomsoever, his desperate mind is asking, 'Where is the road to
heaven?'
The sky gives no response, only the stars hold the tears of dumb
darkness.2

It is interesting to note the autobiographical similarity here,

essentially unspoken in his Reminiscences or other works but noted
emotively in verse. The houses in the familiar lanes of the boy's home
take on spectral shapes but death itself is part of the wide expanse of
the sky which the innocent child is searching in the nakedness of his
body. Thus Amiya Dev in an essay on Tagore's power of words being
sheer magic starts with his own images of death seen from his hospital
bed when lines from a Rabindrasangeet came unbidden to his mind.
He writes that "The kavi is a visionary not only because he sees, but also
because he makes others see, There Rabindrabath Tagore has few equals."
Furthermore, Dev also asserts that "whenever we shall think of death, this
boy's question will haunt us."

In a similar vein, and as a counterpart to the lines quoted before,

Tagore wrote about the loss of a child, perhaps his own children in
hidden verse. In a poem called "The End", Tagore writes:
It is time for me to go mother; I am going. When in the paling
darkness
Of the lonely dawn you stretch out your arms for your baby in the
bed,
I shall say 'Baby is not there!' - mother, I am going.
I shall become a delicate draught of air and caress you; and I shall
Be ripples in the water when you bathe, and kiss you and kiss you
again"3

It is important to note that Tagore focuses on parting but not on

complete separation. His image of death, the anguished loss of a child
is compensated by the child himself or herself saying that s/he can be
found in the gentle touch of nature. Although Tagore had to face
literally a procession of deaths in his younger days, he did not allow
these incidents to cloud his consciousness but in each incident he found
the cause to rise out of grief and see the wonder of nature in the world
around him. Thus death became an instrument of search for hidden

|, 1419

Interpreting Death in Tagore's Poetry

glories that were still waiting to be received, and his solitary thoughts
because suffused with a life-giving force.
In this personal phase of Tagore's life, when we are actually tracing
the similarities in subject matter that go into the making of his poetry,
we must of course turn to that particular death in the family home that
affected him most profoundly. It was the death that gave much meaning
to his poetry and which he remembered in many different ways, through
his entire life. It was of course the death of his dear sister-in-law and
muse, Kadambari Devi.
She was his childhood playmate and companion. She teased him
and mocked him, and later became his dearest friend and critic. She
looked after the lonely, motherless boy and gave him the attention that
no one else bestowed on him. He was shy, but always willing to share
his first compositions with this ready listener. She was his Natun
Bouthan.
* * *
In numerous ways, Rabindranath's poetry celebrates the Romantic
philosophy of the poetry of Shelley and Tennyson. His poetry becomes
a screen on which he notes the journey of his soul in its passage through
life and death, and death becomes profound because it adds perception
to sight and reveals the illumination that is the truth of the universe.
If death meant departure from this life in all totality, that truth would
not be revealed. Thus death is only that separation which provokes
the mind to open itself to the God that is in nature which is both destiny
and perfection. He embraces death who is like a lover, sensuous and
sensual, but without sexual connotations. Through death he seeks an
imaginary companion from his childhood, perhaps a woman who
remains unnamed. As the man grows older, the companion becomes
the queen of his heart from where his
Death is only that
poetry comes. She merges with the
separation which
"antaryami" the goddess of his fate, the
provokes
the mind to
one who will show him both pleasure
and pain, although she will really inflict open itself to the God
neither upon him.4
that is in nature
The veiled one who was once his which is both destiny
childhood playmate and friend will
and perfection.
become the Helmsman of the boat that

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71

72

Interpreting Death in Tagore's Poetry

is taking him to another shore that he yet cannot see. Perhaps she is
merely his creation, seen with his own vision, and she will disappear
only when he stops seeing her. She appears again and again in the
poems of "Sonar Tori", "Manasundari" and "Urvashi" and if we
imagine that this is Kadambari Devi who actually lived in the same
household in another past, it is the reader who wishes to name her
because we need something more tangible than a spiritual concept for
our idol worship. Thus we cling to the time frame of 'twenty-five years'
that he mentions in "The First Sorrow" and see a tribute to an actual
woman who becomes a legend only because death separated them, and
the mundane aspects of life did not get a chance to paint her in mundane
colours.
The 'Metaphors' of Death
Tagore affirmed that the death of his Natun Bouthan affected him
more profoundly than even the death of his mother. He writes in his
Reminiscences that his first deep sorrow visited him at the age of twenty
five when he "met Death face to face." He writes, "The acquaintance which
I made with Death at the age of twenty four was a permanent one, and its
blow has continued to add itself to each succeeding bereavement in an ever
lengthening chain of tears." Yet this terrible darkness which tore a rent

into his life also gave him his first philosophical thoughts and he found
solace in nature. He compares himself to a "young plant, surrounded by
darkness [which] stretches itself, as it were on tiptoe, to find its way into the
light, so when death suddenly throws its darkness of negation around the soul,
it tries to rise into the light of affirmation." He claims that even in "the
midst of this unbearable grief, flashes of joy seemed to sparkle in my mind"
and he realized that life was not a "permanent fixture." This helped him

to come to terms with the burden of sorrow and he awakened to the

beauty and truth that lay in the environment around him until he found
its innermost significance. He claimed that "Death had given to me the
correct perspective to see the world in the fullness of its beauty and as I saw
the picture of the Universe against the background of death, I found it
entrancing."5

Tagore's images of death are paradoxical for they come in mixed

content and through death he realizes life, with sorrow comes
enchantment, and shadows lengthen into peace. Just as this

|, 1419

Interpreting Death in Tagore's Poetry

predominant image of the sapling

Tagore's images of
struggling for light and happiness
remained with him through all death are paradoxical
subsequent losses, separation also came for they come in mixed
to mean reunion with the loved one and content and through
life itself became a journey where the death he realizes life,
boatman would row him across a river with sorrow comes
to the infinite wonder beyond. Death
enchantment, and
thus came to mean the beginning of a
journey which, also meant that the shadows lengthen into
dreams of an afterward took on new peace.
importance.
The most beautiful image of the boatman who will row him across
the river is benign and romantic and holds nothing of the menacing
fear that is conveyed by Chiron and the river of Styx in Western
classical imagery. In "Rogsajya", Tagore writes, "O Evening, thou ferry
of the last quarters, / launch the boat on the tidal waves" (Poems, No.
18). In the same volume, in a poem called "Bhagirathi" he states, "The
fear of death is man's major fear, how to conquer that he does not know."

(No. 14). As early as 1899 he wrote his poem "Pujarini" where Srimati,
a devotee of Buddha, is willing to face all oppression in life and she
dances forward to her death in a display of faith and moral courage.
It is important to note that Srimati is not unlike the Chorus in T. S
Eliot's Murder in the Cathedral who "have smelt them, the death-bringers,
senses are quickened/ By subtle forebodings."6 For none of them are these
forebodings occasioning evil, and in fact Srimati's death is a mark of
triumph and glory.
We are reminded that Tagore believes, "Death, like Rahu,/ only throws
shadows,/ it cannot swallow life's immortality."7 In fact he marks himself as
an individual who is more significant than the flesh and blood
constituents of his body and says half mockingly, "Death, I refuse to
accept from thee/ that I am nothing but a gigantic jest of God, a blank
annihilation built with the/ wealth of the Infinite."8 Bipinchandra Pal in a

critique of Tagore draws the similarity between the poet and his father
claiming that their philosophy was not agnostic but theistic, and because
of their study of the Upanishads they adhered to the belief that they
could reach out to the "Unknown and the Unknowable."9 Tagore's

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73

74

Interpreting Death in Tagore's Poetry

statement in his poem "Sonar Tori" is that the man may die but his
values of life are offered to his boatman, who will transfer them to the
Absolute for ultimate preservation. The achievements of life thus
consigned can never be destroyed. What is left behind upon the shore
is the inconsequent body of the human being, his name and his inert
form. The Human nature contained in the soul of man travels forward,
and is greater in power than death. It cannot "evaporate" with death.10
* * *
Tagore often saw life as a game and having experienced the horror
of the First World War, he could not deny the destruction wrought by
the cannon balls firing upon the common man where death happens
to be a great leveller. Yet he declared that it was a crime to lose faith
in man and even in destruction lay the beginning of a new creative
order: "Aji sei shrishtir awhvan ghosichey kaman." - "When the ugly game
is ended/ in a grotesque dance of death/ and this sinful age finds its quietus/
Man non-attached, austere seeker after perfection/ will take his place/ on the
bed of ashes of the funeral pyre The roar of cannons proclaims/ the coming
of that new order."11 It is not surprising that Tagore should have used

the metaphor of birth to signify death, because beyond its agents of

war, destruction and darkness lay an infinite world of glory that he
wanted to reach. Heaven for Tagore did not lie in an unknowable
distance but was here upon this earth and could be sought by the
individual man. Death was not a restrictive concept but was
transformed into a spaciousness that also marked so many other facets
Heaven for Tagore did not lie of Tagore's philosophy. Srikumar
Bandopadhyay remarks that "The

in an unknowable distance
but was here upon this earth
and could be sought by the
individual man. Death was
not a restrictive concept but
was transformed into a
spaciousness that also
marked so many other facets
of Tagore's philosophy.

combination of subtlety of mood and

spaciousness is one of the deepest
impressions left by Tagore's poetry."12

And this quality of suggestiveness

and space magnifies his
popularity so that so many years
after his death, Tagore cannot die
and he gives his readers reasons
to insert themselves into the
emotive spaces he has shown
them in his verses.

|, 1419

Interpreting Death in Tagore's Poetry

Thus the paradoxes merge; the traveller and the boatman come
together, and the lover and the beloved are one. Death is the lover and
the bridegroom, and the individual is waiting for the marriage through
which he will glimpse eternity and the journey for truth will end in
peace. The poet writes of that eternal lover and speaks to him in
passionate longing: "Why do you whisper so faintly in my ears, O Death,
my Death?... /Is this how you must woo and win me, with the opiate of drowsy
murmur, and cold kisses O Death, my Death?"13 And the mortal lover who

has seen the death of a loved one is afraid of the forgetfulness that
comes with death. He immortalizes Emperor Shah Jahan's creation
which in the ultimate analysis is not only immortalizing the Beloved
but also man who is the creator of his own universe of love. - "Thus
Emperor you wished,/ Fearing your own heart's forgetfulness, to conquer time's
heart/ Through beauty. / How wonderful the deathless clothing/ With which
you invested/ Formless death - how it was garlanded!"14 And again quite

paradoxically as William Radice states in his notes on this poem, it is

not living, breathing images of life that are immortalized; rather the
serenity of cold marble celebrates and perpetuates images of death.
The 'Religion' of Death:
It may not be improper to see death as a 'religion' in Tagore's poetry
for there is a kind of lover-like adoration of death which finally merges
with Salvation and his "Jiban-Debata." Death is like Nature who has
cast aside her veil and is now leading him into the sancto santorum or
the innermost chamber of worship. Rabindranath joins the great lyrical
poet William Wordsworth in the view that "the poet singing a song in
which all human beings join with him rejoices of truth as our visible friend
and hourly companion. Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge."15

The Jiban-Debata was also to some extent a glorious metaphor, "a

poetic personification," an abstraction who could be seen as a living
image, sometimes male and sometimes female.
The losses in the life of the poet had been many - his loved ones
had left him very early. The shy, diffident child matured into a
meditative young man who embraced loneliness as his own, and sought
comfort in solitude. But the life-force was still so strong that it always
surpassed the depression of death, and what emerged were writings
celebrating life.
Tagore was deeply enamoured by melodies heard in kirtans and

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75

76

Interpreting Death in Tagore's Poetry

baul music. The minstrels were

present in the villages of his
travels and he found them again
and again in his own figurative
phrases and his musical
messages, even when he was
living in Santiniketan and the
worries of his school were
weighing down upon him. This
philosophical search into the
spirituality of the bauls gave to
Tagore a strength that is found in
Sufi music and the bhajans of
Meera, or the dohas of Kabir.
Tagore found himself enveloped
by the grandeur of the universe
where he was but a tiny being, yet not a trivial one. In his unique search
for spirituality, he saw his own place as significant to the divine order
of the Eternal One, and realized that it was his presence and faith in
this world that completed the hallucinatory image of the Ultimate
Creator. The great He was always formless, but ever present in Nature.
The great Being was present in the light of the planets and the stars.
The soul of man must be free from its caged existence in life to be
able to follow the path of light to its glorious destiny.
But Tagore realized through his songs and poems that there is
always a sense of waiting before he can be united with the Supreme
One. He addresses death again and again as the one he is waiting for.
In "Death Wedding" he protests that death the nocturnal visitor comes
stealthily like a thief: "Come to me festively, / Make the whole night ring

Tagore found himself

enveloped by the grandeur of
the universe where he was but
a tiny being, yet not a trivial
one. In his unique search for
spirituality, he saw his own
place as significant to the
divine order of the Eternal
One, and realized that it was
his presence and faith in this
world that completed the
hallucinatory image of the
Ultimate Creator.

with your triumph, blow/ Your victory conch, dress me in blood-red robes/
Pay no heed to what others may think Death,/ Death for I shall of my own
free will/ Resort to you if you but take me gloriously."16

The beauty of Tagore's vision lies in the uncertainty regarding what

happens after death. Thus his context is not theological in terms of sin
and redemption, but the questions surrounding death seek the
knowledge of the individual and his relationship with the Universe.
The harshness of death is mitigated through timelessness which is the
significance of Tagore's "Taj Mahal". The spiritual man was the one

|, 1419

Interpreting Death in Tagore's Poetry

"whose inner vision in bathed in the illumination of his consciousness."17

Tagore does not see God as a distant Creator, watching man or watching
over mankind. In fact God is a person, and therefore human - the
Manav-Brahma. For the poet both man and God reside in one being.
Prof. Amiya Kumar Mazumdar writes that Tagore "assigns to man the
highest place in the cosmos. Secondly he attributes humanity to God and
describes ultimate Reality in human terms."18 Therefore death is that final

phase of preparation where the individual is waiting to meet the Eternal

Bridegroom, the Universal Lover: "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 solitde of night," the poet writes

in Gitanjali.19
In the poem "The Borderland," Tagore makes his ultimate
invocation to Death:
King of Death, your fatal messenger came to me
Suddenly from your durbar. He took me to your vast courtyard.
My eyes saw darkness. I did not see the invisible light
That is the source of the Univserse; my vision
Was clouded by my own darkness. The day will come
When my poetry, silently falling like a ripened fruit
From the weight of its fullness of joy,
Shall be offered up to eternity. And then at last
I shall pay you in full, finish my journey, meet your call.20

He does not see death as an adversary whom John Donne sought

to vanquish in his sonnet, "Death be not proud." Where Donne wished
to divest Death of all his powers, Tagore attributes to him Kingship
so that he himself can be his Because a subject must
faithful subject to bask in afterlife.
offer tribute to his King,
And because a subject must offer
tribute to his King, Tagore offers Tagore offers Death his
Death his poetry. Thus Tagore's poetry. Thus Tagore's
invocation contains both his invocation contains both
humility and his confidence that the his humility and his
gift he brings will be accepted by confidence that the gift he
the Infinite Being, with whom he
brings will be accepted by
shall be One.
The boatman of the "Sonar the Infinite Being, with
Tori," the beautiful lady of whom he shall be One.

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77

78

Interpreting Death in Tagore's Poetry

"Niruddesh Yatra," and the anonymous person of "Manas Sundari" all

steer him through the river of life towards his Jiban-Debata. As critic
A.K. Srivastava explains, the union with God is manifested in two
ways. The external union of man and God recognizes the latter as
Viswadevata; but when the union with God is internal, and happens
in the innermost consciousness of the individual, the search of the
Jiban-debata is satisfied. His journey of discovery, from life unto death
leads him to reaffirm the beauty and harmony residing in Nature, which
tell him that inner peace and inner harmony of the soul constitute truth.
Thus the 150 years since his birth and the 70 years of his death that
we are commemorating today serve to confirm that his writings of life
and death have led him to immortality.
1
2

3
4

5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14

15
16
17
18

19
20

"My Life in my Words", ed. Uma Dasgupta, Penguin Books 2010, p. 94

Amiya Dev, "Power of Tagore's Words" in Tagore and China, ed. By Tan Chug et al.
Sage: New Delhi, 2011, pp. 200-201
"Collected Poems and Plays of Rabindranath Tagore", Rupa and Co., 2011, p. 80
Baldev Singh. "A New Religion" in Tagore and the Romantic Ideology, Orient
Longmans: Calcutta, 1963, p. 95-96
Dasgupta, pp. 95-96
T. S. Eliot, Murder in the Cathedral, Faber and Faber, 1961
Shesh Lekha, No 7, p. 10
Punascha, "Mrityu", p. 66
The Golden book of Tagore, p. 1189
Rabindranath Tagore A Humanist, p. 531
Janmadinay, No. 21, pp. 38-39
Bangla Sahityer Katha, p. 246 in Tagore - A Study by Dhurjuti Prasad Mukerji
Collected Poems, p. 144
"Shah-Jahan" trans. William Radice, Rabindranath Tagore: Selected Poems, Penguin
1994, p. 79.
Preface to the Lyrical Ballads, 2nd ed.
Selected Poems, p. 70
Rabindranath Tagore, The Religion of the Artist, p. 32
Universality in Tagore: Souvenir of a Symposium on Rabindranath Tagore. Ed, and
introduced by Fr. Luciano Colussi, SDB. Nitika/Don Bosco and Firma, KLM,
Calcutta 1991, p. 71
p. 84
Selected Poems, p. 107

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Haiku

Jyotirmoy Ray
Chittaranjan Park,
New Delhi

Haiku

Haiku poems belong to an art form in the literary field that uses
few words to express inner feelings, moments of lives that are moving,
perceptions that we offer or receive as gifts. In the vast park of poetry,
Haiku can be compared with a miniature garden laid out in one corner.
It represents nature in its pristine existence. It is no wonder that Japan,
that is dotted all over with a variety of such miniature gardens, is the
birthplace of this genre of poetry. Like tiny flowers picked up from
mountain slopes Haiku captures elements of beauty from the all
pervasive nature and sea of spiritual realizations.
To quote a contemporary Haiku poet:
Haiku not only gives us moments from the writer's experience,
but go on to give us moments of our own. The central act of Haiku
is letting an object or event touch us, and then sharing it with
another. If we are the writer we share it with the reader. If we
read a Haiku, we share that moment, or one like it with the writer.

Being small, Haiku lend themselves especially to sharing small,

intimate things. By recognizing the intimate things we come to know
and appreciate ourselves and our world more. By sharing these things
with others we let them into our lives in a very special personal way.
Haiku began during the period of Japanese cultural renaissance in
the seventeenth century when both literature and painting excelled.
Buddhist monks and middle class people of Japan played a vital role
in the development and appreciation of this genre of poetry. One of
the great masters of Haiku, Matsuo Basho who made his living
travelling all around the country and teaching people the art and craft

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Haiku

of writing poems is the main creator of Haiku. Oft quoted Basho's poem
with 5-7-5 syllables published in 1680 practically became the basis of
its composition:
"Fu-ru-i-ke ya
Old pond
Ka-wa-zu to-bi-ko-mu
a frog leaps in
mi-zu no u-ta"
water's sound
This translation is mine; there are dozens of translations attempted
by many. However, maybe a Bengali translation could be interesting
too. As in English, many Bengali versions are possible.
This image of the old pond where for a moment sound of water
is heard as the frog leaps into it, makes us feel its calm and quiet
ambience. Jumping frog and the sound of the water adds to the
phenomenon of melting of the ice over the pond after a long period
of freezing winter during which the frog was hibernating. These few
lines conveys to the reader the joy of the leaping frog for its new life
at the advent of spring and returning to the pond, its home where it
can live, feed, raise a family again. (In Japan the frog is associated
with spring. Its call varies according to species and is appreciated by
frog lovers and even recorded.)
Another of Basho's popular poems written after he spent some
hours climbing to a temple on top of a steep rocky hill:
"Shi-zu-ka-sa ya
the stillnessi-wa ni shi-mi-i-ru
soaking into stones
se-mi no ko-e"
cicada's cry
In this poem Basho expresses deep feeling for the stones covering
the steep winding path towards the temple that absorbs his tiredness
and preserve the eerie silence of the vast landscape all around. Drone
of the Cicada's cry conveys the ambience of the Temple and the
presiding Deity in the summer month.
While composing the poems Basho expressed his concern that
Haiku should be created out of a deep unity of the poet and his
experience. He thinks this unity shows itself in the perceptual and
expressive stages of poetic inspiration. Looking at an object is not
enough to produce the depth of perception that triggers the inspiration.
He was of the opinion that the writing of a mere description in a poem
cannot capture the essence of an object the writer's mind has penetrated.
While putting down the thoughts in the mould of words one should

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Haiku

not let even the hair's breadth separate him from the subject. The poet
has to select suitable images conveying directly the inner life of the
animate and inanimate subject to be dealt with.
In addition to many verses that seem like subjects for
contemplation Basho also wrote some lighter ones that depict joy or
deal with a funny event.
"i-za yu-ka-mu
well ! Let's go
yu-ki-mi ni ko-ro-bu
snow-viewing till
to-o-ro ma-de"
we tumble
"Ku-mo ori-ori
clouds occasionally
Hi-to o ya-su-mu-ru
make a fellow relax
Tsu-ki-mi ka-na"
moon-viewing
Basho was honored by the Imperial Government of Japan and also
Shinto Religious Institutions one hundred years after his death. Haiku
was then recognized as a form of sublime poetry.
Haiku's inner strength and Japan's love for traditions made it
possible for its survival and continuation in the contemporary literature
of Japan. The brevity of Haiku forced them to follow more disciplined
approach and choose suitable words. Many Haiku poets remained
faithful to the basic form and content of Haiku. Of course there are
others experimenting freely allowing for even extreme variations. For
example, single line or three lines or four lines etc:
"An icicle the moon drifting through it"
"Lily
out of the water
out of itself"
"She watches
satisfied after love
He lies
Looking up at nothing"
In early twentieth century as Japan was increasingly opening up
to the outside world, foreign visitors, who came to Japan in search of

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Haiku

literary treasures, were moved by the beauty of such short poems

created out of distilled thoughts. The then popular English poet Ezra
Pound surprised English readers composing Haiku style poems in 1913
with now famous "In a station of the Metro". Other English poets
followed Ezra Pound's lead. In fact it is France that acknowledged first
the strength of Haiku followed by other western countries of England,
Germany, Greece, America etc.
When Haiku was spreading from Japan across the oceans to the
west Tagore handpicked this style and brought it to India in early
twentieth century. In fact even in late nineteenth century he had
conceived of distilled thoughts in verse showing control over the self
and its aesthetic expression. His short poems in "Kanika", "Lekhan"
and "Stray Birds" show choice of variety of subjects and treatment of
the poems written in Haiku form. Images of those lines create get
imprinted in the minds of readers for a long time. He writes:
"My fancies are fireflies
Specks of living light
Twinkling in the dark"
During my stay in Japan this time (May-June, 2012) I went to the
southern island of Japan called Kyushu where there are deep forests
of Camphor, Cedar even wild Cherry trees. Thick bushes and scrubs
of Hydrangea and Azalea cover the ground. Our hotel located on the
outskirts of the forest took us for Firefly Viewing trip in the night to
the forest. There were plenty of hot springs in that area. It was a
wonderful sight viewing the fanciful flock of fireflies hovering in
thousands through the thick forest leaves and listening to the
background music provided by the murmuring streams. Tagore's Haiku
on Firefly was repeatedly coming to my mind.
(Jyotirmoy Ray is a retired engineering consultant)

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83
Kumkum Bhattacharya
Santiniketan

Our Pushu di Rabindranath's 'Pupe'

Pushu, Pupe, Nandini are all the same person - the daughter of
Rathindranath and Pratima Devi and Rabindranath's granddaughter. For
many she is the only direct descendant of two illustrious persons and
the family that has played such an important role in the social cultural
life of our country in general and Bengal in particular. She never
however gave off any vibes of such kind in her interactions with people
though she referred to her parents in an unselfconscious manner without
expecting any special recognition in that behalf. She would naturally
clarify her Gujarati origins and the fact that she was adopted by
Rathindranath and Pratima Devi. It is unfortunate that I was too callow
to take advantage of recording this personal history when I had the
opportunity to be with her and interact quite familiarly. I used to feel
that I should not intrude into intimate details - I overlooked the fact
that she belonged to a very public family and that she was carrying a
heritage that we are trying to come to understand, absorb and build
on.
She was married to her friend of many years - Giridhari Lala who
had come from Gujarat to study in Santiniketan. Pushu di had been
married in to the Khatau family in erstwhile Bombay when she was
merely 16 years old and this marriage was performed with great pomp
and show - Rabindranath was alive then and was the Karta mashai at
the wedding. Pushu di dissolved her marriage in a few years and came
back to life in Santiniketan claiming incompatibility in life style and
values. Her friendship with Giridhari Lala revived and being two fellow

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Our Pushu di - Rabindranath's 'Pupe'

'Bengalised' Gujaratis they tied the knot in matrimony. Again, my own

reticence prevented me from exploring this unusual marital history of dissolution of marriage and a new one. The residents here never
accepted her status as the legal heir of Rabindranath or Rathindranath
Tagore while many other branches of the family were accorded
esteemed recognition. It did always bother me - it is interesting to
remember that Dwarakanath too was adopted, albeit from the family
blood line. Pushu di was not given quite the same elevated status in
people's minds. However, I must mention that I never heard her making
any complaints on this aspect nor have I ever heard such murmurings
from her son, Sunandan.
It happened that I met Giridhari Lala (Lala da) before I met Pushu
di - that is what she was then called by all the inmates of Santiniketan.
This was in 1979 when I came to Visva-Bharati as a lecturer. Lala da
was the attending dentist at the P.M. Hospital and one who was always
willing to check out your teeth. His clinic was clean, with a modern
dentist's chair and full of patients. He belonged to the old school of
dentistry - the tooth extractor was always ready and as long as you
could point to the right one, the extraction was relatively painless. He
had the born touch. His chair had come from abroad - Pratima Devi
had had it brought for him. Lala da was also the Sanitation Officer of
the University - periodic cleaning of bushes, drains, spraying of DDT
- reminiscent of Elmhirst's first forays into rural reconstruction.
Santiniketan in those days was beset with load shedding, the roads
seemed dark with towering trees and houses lit with dim lights.
Entertainment was going to neighbour's homes for gossip or getting
shingaras from Ghosh-er dokan in Sevapalli. The world apparently
resided in Sevapalli and in an extended way near and about Ratan
Kuthi. That was our world - Purvapalli was full of empty houses eerily
standing on huge plots of land darkened with trees that seemed to aspire
to the skies and the lanes were narrow and dark - even lovers avoided
them. Of the many houses in Santiniketan, Lala da and Pushu di had
one of the largest houses that seemed to have some architectural thought
and ideas behind it - the rest were rooms put together one after the
other. The house was called Chaya Nir. Their house was designed by
Rathindranath Tagore - he may have been aided by Suren Kar regarded
as the master architect of Santiniketan. Rathindranath did not live in

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Our Pushu di - Rabindranath's 'Pupe'

Nandini & Giridhari Lala

Photo courtesy : Sunandan Lala

this house though the first floor had been built with that in mind. Much
of the furniture was modeled on his signature style. My memories of
the house are those of the labyrinthine structure akin to Udayana in
the Uttarayana complex in which house Pratima Devi stayed for some
years with Rabindranath.
There were hardly any eating places in Santiniketan those days the Tourist Lodge was posh; Priya Hotel specialized in very oily socalled Mughlai food and Ghosh's in snacks. Of course there was the

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Our Pushu di - Rabindranath's 'Pupe'

Kalor dokan that rarely went beyond tea and adda (yes, adda was a
perfectly ordered item in the menu). The year was 1980 and it was by
chance that my husband and I came to hear about the snack place in
Lala da's outhouse opened by his daughter-in-law. Obviously, this was
a major place of attraction for us and we used to go there to taste
innovative preparations that were more cosmopolitan in nature. It was
a success and we would heap praises on Samita who ventured into
this uncharted territory. It was interesting to note how appreciative
people were in general to this business venture that too of the founding
family - the strains of the Tagorean enterprising nature! It did not last
for long - it was not cost effective and was eating into the personal
space of Samita and her husband, Sunandan who had just had their
first son. We were looking for accommodation and it just happened
that they willingly rented the restaurant to us. It was just an outhouse
that had been planned for the cows - a go-shala. However, it turned
out that what was built was much too good for the cows and it was
then that the proposal of renting was mooted and since then there have
been many tenants of which we were also one. There were two rooms
with a lean to kitchen at one end and a huge bathroom with toilet at
the other end. It had a long verandah - it never lost its barn like
character. There was no plinth and the doors and windows never closed
completely or securely but the property was as safe as could be barring
the occasional snakes and scorpions of many varieties.
There were two dogs in the compound - Lorry, a hybrid Labrador
and a tiny Pomeranian, Rosa. Lorry was Lala da's pet and Rosa was
Pushu di's special love. Lala da used to get up at the crack of dawn
and make a circuit of his grounds checking on my doors and windows
because at that time I was living alone expecting my first child while
my husband was in Dehradun. Pushu di and Lala da made my care
their special responsibility calling on me to find out how I was doing
or if there was anything that I needed. Pushu di would usually drop in
on me in the late afternoon when I had come back from the department
- she would talk of this and that without bothering for my responses
and then ask if I had her favourite chocolate biscuits - she would take
one and call to Rosa in a most sing-song way and go indoors.
Sometimes in her rambling conversations she would complain about
Giri's altruism or Samita's daughter-in-law like transgressions! One

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Our Pushu di - Rabindranath's 'Pupe'

Giridhari & Nandini Lala

Photo courtesy : Sunandan Lala

never took her complaints seriously. She was not involved in the daily
running of the house or kitchen - Samita used to look after all that
while Lala da looked after the stocking of household requirements.
Sometimes she did talk about her mother and her devotion to her
happiness - she did not mention her father very often to me and not
being fully cognizant of the machinations against Rathindranath by a
section of the people of Santiniketan my curiosity was not aroused. I
understand from her son that she was deeply attached to her father
and she never recovered from the loss brought about by his death. She
would narrate how her mother taught her to plan menus, arrange
interiors aesthetically. She was quite particular about personal

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Our Pushu di - Rabindranath's 'Pupe'

grooming - I remember her wearing starched saris, hair combed, with

a large bindi adorning her forehead. Pushu di was fair with large
almond eyes and a prominent thin nose. She had good Gujarati features
but I really never asked her if she spoke Gujarati! She did not entertain
much - Sunandan and Samita had their friends but very few people
actually visited Pushu di or Lala da though she would enquire about
her acquaintances and friends sending them offerings from her garden
of fruits and vegetables. Perhaps, it was Pushu di's periodic bouts of
depression that restricted visitors. Also, more importantly, she was not
involved in any way, either technically or emotionally with the business
of Visva-Bharati - to her the university as it had become was of no
interest. She sometimes mentioned that it would be nice if Sunandan
could teach in Visva-Bharati - it was just a passing comment with no
intention of seeing that plan to fruition.
I encountered her again when I was reading She where I saw her
growing up from a three year old to sweet sixteen; her innocence was
permanent and her approach to life retained its Alice-like capacity to
think of life's events as natural. She never made a drama out of her
life fantastic.
There were many things that one could learn from Pushu di and
Lala da - how not to be obsessed with pedigree and use it to maintain
superiority; how not to live in the glory of the past or claim any benefit
from that and to be detached from the material world. And the
wonderful quality of making us believe in a world constructed by caring
and affection.
For long Pushu di has been relegated to the role of the child muse
of Rabindranath but what about her personal history and the total lack
of interest in her by the people of Santiniketan and Tagoreans after
the main players departed the earth? That is very sad to me - there is
no society in the world that disregards the adopted child in quite this
way - she brought cosmopolitanism to the Tagore family in many ways,
displayed great courage in dissolving one marriage and living her life
with great dignity. That is very important to me.
(Kumkum Bhattacharya is Professor of Psychology in the
Department of Social Work, Visva-Bharati, Sriniketan and was
former Director of the Visva-Bharati publishing department)

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