The man and his mind

A mind all logic is like a knife all blade. It makes the hand bleed that uses it.

Rabindranath Tagore 

He was born on May 7, 1861. However, for his birthday, like Poila Boishakh (Bengali new year) we, Bengalis, refer to our calendar. For, Pochishe Boishakh (25 th day of the first month Boishakh) could fall on May 8 or 9. This year, it fell on May 9, 2025. Here goes something about Rabindranath Tagore that perhaps got lost in the tributes so far.

 His songs and poems are omnipresent through all our Bengali Brahmo festivals, be it Maghotsav (month long celebrations by the Brahmos) in the month of Magh (January according to the Gregorian calendar) to social obligations like marriage ceremonies. From emotional outbursts to seasonal thunderstorms, there is a song for every occasion. His busts, frames, paintings and books were precious wedding gifts in any Bengali wedding. At least one generation in most Bengali household would have bought the entire volume of his works. Even today, his books are given away as part of school prizes, birthdays and at fewer times even at weddings. Gitanjali (song offerings), the book that earned him, the first non- European and the first lyricist, a Nobel prize for literature in 1913, could be bought in attractive pocket sizes at the International Kolkata Book Fair. 

Why is he so endeared in Bengali customs and traditions, you may wonder. Perhaps, no other creative legend could be so much of an influencer like him in this or any other community. I believe, Bengalees, known for their intellectual stimulation, it is the honour for that mind that is present in his compositions and writings. Take his female characters, for instance. Though, they are moored in, but not necessarily helmed by the contemporary fraught and fractured socio-political milieu. 

As it is said, how you treat people is the legacy you leave behind. Even if the characters are fictional, for here too, essentially, the mind of the writer speaks volumes for. 

 

Tagore is an emotion to us. A prolific writer of myriad emotions. During the colonial rule in 1905, he wrote 23 songs in a month protesting against the first partition of Bengal. In fact, his creativity spread across several sectors, be it plays, dance dramas, letters, short stories, novels, poetry and of course songs and in such volumes, prompted octogenarian Satyendranath Banerjee saying, “He is a wonder!” 

 

The best part is as evident from television programmes and housing society festivities yesterday, Tagore inspires generations, be it X, Y, Z or even Alpha, who are as passionate about his works as octogenarian Banerjee is. That is perhaps one reason why recitations feature prominently in our cultural calendar. But of course, his collection of songs, Rabindrasangeet, is still the most popular from his genre across the globe among the Bengalees.

 

I remember in my childhood, on his birthday, we would host cultural programmes and select invitees (closely connected with the participants) would fill up our drawing rooms. For this programme, we would regularly rehearse over some tasty snacks. We had special dresses stitched and stage created for this purpose. Our jewelleries were all made of flowers. Even today, in most programmes based on his works, female dancers wear sarees in a particular style and wear flower-woven jewelleries. Male dancers will put up in decorated kurtas and dhotis. His birthdays were religiously celebrated with staging at least one play/short story and/or dance dramas in our drawing room before our invited guests. We used to garland a chosen frame of his with Tuberose flowers and even kept some of them in the painted brass pots with water. We used to love the soft scent of this flower amiably wafting around.

 

Our celebration was incomplete without the spread of typical Bengali gastronomic bonhomie – a plate of fulko luchhi (puffed deep-fried bread made of flour). Its demand was directly proportional to its fluffyness and the flavour of accompanying curry (baby potatoes in spicy gravy) called chhoto aloor dum. A humble tribute to the legendary Thakurbari and its optical and epicurean delights. 

 

The aroma of food gets a real contest with the scent of Tuberose. It is one flower which I have seen in both happy and sad occasions among Bengalees, be it at a wedding or during funeral rites. Even today, his plays and songs are staged within housing society premises as well as conventional theatres with much fanfare. Rabindra Sadan, the oldest cultural hub in India, built in 1961 to commemorate the contribution of Tagore gets particularly resplendent on this day, reverberating with his creations.

 

 We sang his songs, danced to his tunes, recited his poems even when we were kindergarten girls with ponytails and with little understanding of his expressed thoughts and nuances. Today as I listen to his songs or poems on my smartphone, the words left unsaid, assume a bigger say in empty spaces. Few years back, when veteran actor, Amitabh Bachchan sang, Jodi tor dak shune keu na ashe, tobe ekla cholo re (If no one comes in response to your call, then walk alone!) for a film, everyone gave it a rousing reception. I feel that the song being sung in its original lyrics makes a huge difference and calls for such a standing ovation. I haven’t felt the same while listening to his translated hindi songs. Yes, back to his words and wisdom...   

 

I read this on a social media post: In 1906 as part of a National Council of Education Committee, Rabindranath Tagore set up question papers for seventh and fifth standards. A mere glimpse into some of these questions will reveal the sensitivity of the mind of a legend. “If you made a profit of Rs 100, how will you spend it, write it in a letter to your friend and the other one is write down in a letter to your friend, things that you especially like and dislike in your textbooks.

 

His works often reflect his openness and priority to freedom and individuality of a person. He would rather go against the tide, break rules and start afresh where the mind of a person is held high and free of all fears. Remember, Tasher Desh or the Land of Cards. A satirical play bringing down regimented life.

 

I am literally grown up on a diet of his works. In those days, my primary class used to start with his inimitable book, Shohoj Path. Illustrated in linocuts by the famous Indian artist from Tagore’s Shantiniketan, Nandalal Bose, the book in two parts offers a foundational course on the basics of Bengali language and literature. My school curriculum in higher classes too had a thoughtful spread of his poems and short stories, dance dramas and novels. Last but not the least, as is the custom in those days and to some extent, even now in Kolkata, as a Bengali girl, I was compulsorily taught how to sing Rabindrasangeet. I had a good time though at my aunt’s place who was a well-known singer. Often, my grandmother would keep my favourite savouries which prompted me not ever to miss my class!! Even then, I was quite a Jughead Jones!!

 

Sometime back, as I was scrolling through some of the comments of an audience spanning different continents and nationalities, listening to Rabindrasangeet on my smartphone, I got goosebumps. Many do not understand his mother tongue- Bengali. Several more hails from the young and happening generation. Yet, they all enjoyed listening to his songs again and again. It gives them - peace, happiness, solace and joy. 

Some hope when there is so much distress around. 

164 years and Gurudev, you are only growing stronger in our thoughts, as you keep uplifting our minds.

True hallmark of a writer.

Happy Birthday, Gurudev.

Pronam

Pochishe Boishakh, 1432

 #Gurudev #Shantiniketan #NandalalBose # Rabindrasangeet  #RabindranathTagore  #linocuts