09/05/2022
Weâre born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our life we create the illusion for the moment that weâre not alone. Love makes life living. I remember a line of the poem âIn Memoriamâ by great Lord Tennyson, written in mid-19th century for his dear love Hallam. â..Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all..â One of Tennysonâs most ambitious poems on love, and one of his most celebrated too.
Bards and authors across the world has portrayed love as the essence of life. I mention someone, whoâs thoughts and ideas also taken this distinctive emotion to the highest level. He is none other than Rabindranath, the most romantic soul I have ever known. Mark Twain once wrote that a âclassicâ is a book that people praise and donât read. While it is true for many books, and it is particularly true for the works of Rabindranath. His writings are laden with profound observations about the human, and the strong emotive force that he himself felt in the excursion of his life, which he carried to his own bequest. His literature offers a sense of life and of value, a sense of what matters and what does not, of lifeâs relations and connections. And not just his literature, aside from a poet and an author, he was a profound thinker, a political and cultural detractor, a religious humanist and an enduring teacher. He dealt with complex philosophical questions, questions about the nature of reality, origins of religion, morality and art, and about the nature of power and nationalism. He had a prevalent soul with all virtues of human being where love constituted as a major theme in his creations.
What is love? What does it truly mean? This is a significant question which is often instituted in literature more often than it is found in philosophy. In Rabindranathâs works, I find an attempt to wrangle with the connotation of love. There are many instances where his characters fall in love with the idea of âsomeoneâ rather than the âactual someoneâ. And that idea is just an illusion, and delusions disappear as soon as they are formed. Thus love flowed from his heart, mind and soul in incessant stream assuming all diverse forms in its winding course from the finite to the infinite.
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Or
I seem to have loved you in numberless forms,
Numberless times,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as gift, wear round your neck in your many forms
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
Or
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Who else can form and express such feelings, depict the deep amorousness and emotion, be it spiritual or physical. I think his love ceremonies a great depth of feeling and variety of all forms of love to the highest level of distinction ever articulated. I find them germane in every state of my life. He categorically forbidden the old interpretation of love and compered a new concept, according to which love becomes devout and spiritual infatuation, hardly needing an object of adoration. He and his beliefs are eternal..someone I respire, can feel within, in all instants of my life..āĻāĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻŽāĻ¨ āĻāĻ° āĻļāĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻ¤āĻŋ, āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻžāĻ¨ āĻāĻ° āĻāĻ°āĻžāĻŽ !!
Veneration..đđģ