Showing posts with label Literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Literature. Show all posts


Oh my Prince !     
I will be waiting for you
through out the life...
You have stolen 
all  the dreams of my eyes.
                               
My soul misfits
in unknown city 
It looks for you quite often
lost here in an alien way...

Feel afraid being lonely 
in this desert path
Pull me out of
the agony of separation...

Invite me in your land
if you can't come here...
Please don't torment me 
I am your love...
-Firdaus Khan


Oh ! my love,
to have you and to lose you
are like the two seasons
of the life...


as like the thirst and ocean
or  may perhaps be 
like the death and life...


the tradition has been prevailed
since the beginning of this universe
that on the palm of the life 
there are the lines of death
and always on the verge of the colourful  dreams
there is an existence of  darkness...


Oh ! my love
to have you and to lose you
are like the two seasons  
of the life...
-Firdaus Khan


In my book of life 
there are so many pages of my past memories 
being preserved 
very carefully
as of date…
Some pages are endowed with
the fragrance of closeness
as if adorned on the palms 
with soaked henna smells  slowly...
More so
some pages engrossed by the dark night 
of aloofness
sink into the fog of cool winter
like an apathetic  calm evening… 
  
Even today I have preserved  
with utmost care 
all those of my old memories
like someone keeps the holy books
at holy place in the home...
-Firdaus Khan


Sometimes
the autumn fascinates
while our walking gently        
on the dry out brown leaves 
in the garden    
and on the land 
covered by the brown leaves…

sometimes
the whole scenery of autumn 
becomes romantic 
with the desolated branches of trees
and the pleasing soft and sweet 
sounds of the birds…

sometimes
in the row of plants 
with the wetting smell nearby
of ever growing flowers 
such as marigold and roses  
and on the older wall 
raising calmly the sun shine
fascinates...

yes, the autumn itself has 
its own glory
like spring and monsoon…
-Firdaus Khan


Some of the memories 
are reserved for those nice moments... 

when on the earth 
the carpet of moonlight spreads all around 
where the flowers with their moisten smell
make the nature more romantic...

and the season of romance blooming everywhere
when the eye-lash gratifying with lusty cheers
and there is an immediate desire of heart
that this time must stop here and now...

and throughout such a moment 
too many centuries be surpassed… 
-Firdaus Khan


Oh' Dear
I still remember those moments
when you said to me: 
'your poetry is not just a poetry
but the spell of sacred book of love
learned by you at heart...'


And hence
I started thinking...that
your every word itself is like the Kalame-ilahi
which I wish to read perpetually 
as like that of the Kalma... 
-Firdaus Khan



Oh my love !
waiting  for you a long way               
am being reached
to the stage of life 
from where
the journey of life once started 
comes to an end  
with the breakage of last breathe...
 
but again right from here        
the second journey starts 
which will finally be over
in the doomsday...


such a journey of your love 
I have to pass through in the life 
from one place to far off  distances
even life after the life 
for you only...
-Firdaus Khan


My love!
in the age of
such a fiery noon
you are
the shadow of thick and fleshy tree…


In a burn up lonely night
you are the moonlight
silvery cool and calm...


In a life
like the wasteland
you are
the ocean of ever flowing
aabe zam-zam…
I am the earth
thirsty of years and years
you are
my immense rainy season...


You are the idol
My love
incarnates in my soul


At all
look at the inhibited dreams of mine
as I worship you for years and years
hiding of everyone... 
-Firdaus Khan

 

When
in the calm and lonely night
a breezing wind sings a song 
of quite unknown season of love...
I do start changing
the pages of my past days
one by one... 
and even more to the introversion
where in the island of memories or
such as like 
once hot summer's afternoon of June
I feel warmth of your  that touch  
even now feeling that at this moment...
-Firdaus Khan


Oh' Friend
Why you go away
Far, far from me
Often, that time
When
I need you
Very much...
Oh' Dear
Why you go away...
-Firdaus Khan 

Tarit Mukherjee

Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941) was the youngest son of Debendranath Tagore, a leader of the Brahmo SamajRabindranath Tagore was born in Calcutta into a wealthy and prominent family.  His grandfather had established a huge financial empire for himself. Tagore received his early education first from tutors and then at a variety of schools. Among them were Bengal Academy where he studied history and culture. and then  University College, London, where he studied law but left a year later for unlikeness of the weather.
In his mature years, in addition to his many-sided literary activities, he managed the family estates, a project which brought him into close touch with people and increased his interest in social reforms. He also started an experimental school at Shantiniketan where he tried his Upanishadic ideals of education.
Tagore had early success as a writer in his native Bengal. With  translations of some of his poems he became rapidly known in the West. In fact his fame attained  luminousheight, taking him across continents on lecture tours and tours of friendship. For the world he became the voice of India’s spiritual heritage, and for India, especially for Bengal, he became a great living institution.
Although Tagore wrote successfully in all literary genres, he was first of all a poet. Among his fifty and odd volumes of poetry are Manasi (1890) [The Ideal One], Sonar Tari(1894) [The Golden Boat], Gitanjali (1910) [Song Offerings], Gitimalya (1914) [Wreath of Songs], and Balaka (1916) [The Flight of Cranes]. The English renderings of his poetry, include The Gardener (1913), Fruit-Gathering (1916), and The Fugitive (1921), Gitanjali: Song Offerings (1912), became the most acclaimed of them, contains poems from other works besides its namesake. Tagore’s reputation as a writer was established in the United States and in England after the publication of Gitanjali: Song Offerings, about divine and human love. The poems were translated into English by the author himself.
Tagore’s major plays are Raja (1910) [The King of the Dark Chamber], Dakghar(1912) [The Post Office], Achalayatan (1912) [The Immovable], Muktadhara (1922) [The Waterfall], and Raktakaravi (1926) [Red Oleanders]. He is the author of several volumes of short stories and a number of novels, among them Gora (1910), Ghare-Baire (1916) [The Home and the World], and Yogayog (1929) [Crosscurrents]. Besides these, he wrote musical dramas, dance dramas, essays of all types, travel diaries, and two autobiographies, one in his middle years and the other shortly before his death in 1941. Tagore also left numerous drawings and paintings, and songs for which he wrote the music himself.
“When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then no door is shut. Oh, grant me my prayer that I may never lose touch of the one in the play of the many.” (fromGitanjali)
A dedicated educator, Tagore established a school (1901) in his estate, Santiniketan, in Bengal, to teach a blend of Eastern and Western philosophies. In 1921 his school was expanded into an international university, Visva-Bharati. He also traveled and lectured throughout the world.  Visva-Bharati, which was dedicated to emerging Western and Indian philosophy and education  became a university in 1921.
In 1890 Tagore moved to East Bengal (now Bangladesh), where he collected local legends and folklore. Between 1893 and 1900 he wrote seven volumes of poetry, including Sonar TarI (The Golden Boat), 1894 and Khanika, 1900 and Nashtanir, (The Broken Nest) 1901, published first serially. This was a highly productive period in Tagore’s life, and earned him the rather misleading epitaph ‘The Bengali Shelley.’
The Greatest writer in modern Indian literature, Bengali poet, novelist and an early advocate of Independence for India, Tagaore won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1913 for his collection of well-known poems Gitanjali (Song Offerings). Two years later he was awarded the knighthood, but he surrendered it in 1919 as a protest against the massacre in Amritsar. Tagore’s influence over Gandhi and the founders of modern India was enormous, but his reputation in the West as a mystic has perhaps mislead his Western readers to ignore his role as a reformer and critic of colonialism.
            At the age of 70 Tagore took up painting. He was also a composer, settings hundreds of poems to music. Many of his poems are actually songs, and inseparable from their music. Tagore’s ‘Our Golden Bengal’ became the national anthem of Bangladesh. His written production, still not completely collected, fills nearly 30 substantial volumes. Tagore remained a well-known and popular author in the West until the end of the 1920s. 
 Tagore’s short stories influenced deeply Indian Literature. ‘Punishment’, a much anthologized work, was set in a rural village. It describes the oppression of women through the tragedy of the low-caste Rui family. His major theme was humanity’s search for God and truth.
            Between 1916 and 1941, Tagore published 21 collections of songs and poems and held lecture tours across Europe, America, China, Japan and Indonesia. In 1924, he inaugurated the Viswa Bharati University at Santiniketan, an All India Centre for culture.
Tagore was keenly aware of India’s socio-political condition under British rule. He supported the Swadeshi movement and had been deeply influenced by the religious renaissance of 19th century India. Tragically, between 1902 and 1907, Tagore lost his wife, son and daughter. But out of his pain emerged some of his most tender work, includingGitanjali, published in 1910. Tagore remained a true patriot, supporting the national movement and writing the lyrics of the “Jana Gana Mana”, which is India’s national anthem.
Tagore’s works are classics, renowned for their lyrical beauty and spiritual poignancy. He is remembered for his literary genius and Santiniketan remains a flourishing institute. In Tagore’s own words, “The world speaks to me in colours, my soul answers in music”. His profound symbolism, abetted by the free-flowing nature of his verse, creates a universe of haunting beauty that expresses God’s infinite love and humanity’s deep compassion for all things beautiful.
 Known as “Gurudev,” poet Rabindranath Tagore was a proud inheritor of India’s spiritual heritage, to which he gave voice in his inimitable language. He was one of our noblest patriots and was always keen to promote the welfare of his countrymen, educationally, economically and politically. He was a colossus who made an outstanding contribution to the development of painting, music, dance and drama. He triumphantly toured many countries of the world carrying the message of renascent India.

Nikhil Bhattacharyya

Rabindranath Tagore and Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, two great Indians of the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth century had between them a kinship and appreciation of deepest character. They both were for Indianism, humanism and emancipation of dispossessed. On them Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru in 1941, wrote in his jail diary, “ Gandhi and Tagore, two types entirely different from each other and yet both of them typical of India, both in the long line of India’s great men…, I have felt for long that they were the outstanding examples in the world today. There are many of course who may be abler than them or greater geniuses in their own line. It is not so much because of any single virtue but because of the tout ensemble, that I felt that among the world’s great men today Gandhi and Tagore were supreme as human beings. What good fortune for me to have come into close contact with them”.

Tagore first called Gandhi a Mahatma or a great soul. He said at “Gandhiji’s call India blossomed forth to new greatness, just as once before, in earlier times,when Buddha proclaimed the truth, of fellow feeling and compassion among all living creatures”. Gandhiji called him the Great Sentinel or Gurudev”.

To the outside world Tagore never hesitated to project Mahatma Gandhi as the spiritual soul of India. He wrote to China’s Marshal Chian Kai Sek in 1938 saying, “At this desperate age of moral upset it is only natural for us to hope that the continent which has produced two greatest men, Buddha and Christ, in the whole course of human events must still fulfill its responsibility to maintain the purest expression of character in the teeth of the scientific effrontery of the evil genius of man. Has not that expectation already shown in its first luminous streak of fulfillment in the person of Gandhi in a historical horizon obscured by centuries of …?” Chiang Kai Sek replied to the letter (concern on Japan China conflict) as “Respected Gurudev Tagore”.

A Bengali poet and a Gujrati Barister, working in South Africa. How the kinship developed?As described by Tagore’s biographer Prabhat Kumar Mukerji. In 1912-13 a Gujrati Barister Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi was busy in organizing Satyagraha in South Africa to protest against atrocities on Overseas Indians. Mutual friend of Gandhi and Tagore a British Missionary and a Poet C.F. Andrews was going to observe the movement. Tagore wrote to Andrews “You are fighting our cause in Africa alongwith Mr. Gandhi and others.

The poet and the karmayogi met for the first time on March 6, 1915. Gandhij was not quite satisfied with the Santiniketan system. He wanted the students to do their own jobs along with studies, he felt there was no need for servants, cooks, sweeper or water carriers. When Gandhiji’s desire was communicated to Tagore he agreed without any hesitation. He announced, come “sab kaje hat lagai mora”. The new system started on March 10, 1915 which Tagore declared as “Gandhi Divas” in Tagore’s Ashram. Meanwhile Gandhiji plunged into the freedom movement through his non-violent, non-cooperation movement changing Congress first 30 years’ movement of petition and constitutionalism to a movement of action. In 1921 the poet entered into a controversy with Gandhiji regarding the methods used.

He took exception to boycotting of schools and colleges and even burning of foreign clothes. In a letter to C.F. Andrews he wrote “a crowd of young students came to see me. They said if I would order them to leave schools they will obey. I was emphatic in my refusal. They went angry, doubting sincerity of my love for the motherland. Reason for my refusal “ anarchy of emptiness never tempts me”.

Inspite of their differences Tagore salutes Gandhiji’s spirit and the sea change he had brought into the lives of Indians but was unable to follow him in his steps. However, Rabindranath was not hesitant of paying his tributes to Gandhiji. He said, “He (Gandhiji) stopped at the threshold of huts of thousand of dispossessed, like one o their own.He spoke in their own language. Here was the living truth at last, not quotations from book. For this Mahatma the name given to him by the people of India is his real name”.

Rabindranath once mentioned about Gandhiji’s call for plying Charkha for half an hour every day. Tagore asked why not eight and half hours, if it could help the country, in gaining freedom or Swaraj. The two could not agree.

On May 20, 1932 Mahatmaji went on a fast in Yerwada Jail protesting against separate electoral representation for backward Hindus. Tagore sent a telegram to Gandhiji saying “it is well worth sacrificing precious life for the sake of India’s unity and her social integrity. Though we cannot anticipate what effect it may have upon rulers who may not understand its immense importance for our people, we feel certain that the supreme appeal of such self offering to the conscience of our own countrymen will not be in vain. I fervently hope that we will not callously allow such national tragedy to reach its extreme length. Our sorrowing hearts will follow your sublime penance with reverence and love. Gandhiji replied “ “have always experience God’s mercy. Very early this morning I wrote seeking your blessing if you could approve action and behold I have it in abundance in your message just received” referringto the telegram.

The same day Gandhiji wrote a letter to Gurudev Rabindranath saying “This is early morning 3 o’clock of Tuesday. I enter the fiery gate at noon – if you can bless the effort. I want it. You have been to me a true friend because you have been a candid friend often speaking your though aloud. I had looked forward to a firm opinion from you one or the other. But you have refused to criticize. Though it can now only be during my fast. I will yet prize your criticism, if your heart condemns my action. I am not too proud to make an open confession of my blunder, whatever the cost of confession, I find myself in error. If your heart approves the action I want your blessing. It will sustain me I hope I have made myself clear. My love”. A note was added by Gandhiji to this letter “Just as I was handing this o the Superintendent, I got your loving and magnificent wire. It will sustain me in the midst of the storm I am about to enter”. (Source: Rabindra Rachanawali, Vol. 14)

Worried about the health of Mahatma Gandhi, fasting in Yerwada Jail protesting against the British proposal to formulate separate electoral representation to scheduled castes, Rabindranath Tagore reached Pune to see for himself. Mahatmaji sent his son to escort Tagore inside. By that time the British Government had accepted the demand of Mahatma Gandhi and the fasting leader observing moun till afternoon that day agreed to break his fast. Kamala Nehru prepared the juice and Kasturba Gandhi offered the sip. Tagore was requested by Mahatmaji to sing a self composed song. He sang “jiban jakhan shukai e jai, karunadharai eso”. Tagore included his experience of the day into his book on Mahatma Gandhi.

In Pune on Gandhi’s birthday Tagore attended a meeting in Shivaji Mandir presided over by Madan Mohan Malaviya where he read out his written speech and gave full throated support to Mahatmaji’s untouchability abolition movement.

Mahatma Gandhi visited Tagore’s school and university in Santiniketan on four occasions – twice with Kasturba Gandhi and twice alone. In 1936 Rabindranath reached Delhi with his Dance Drama team after visiting Allahabad and Lucknow with the purpose of collecting funds for Vishwa Bharati to tide over the money crunch. Mahatma Gandhi was sad to see that his Gurudev at such an old age moving around collecting funds. Gandhiji met him and arranged the money.

In 1940, a year before Tagore’s death, Gandhi alongwith Kasturba Gandhi went to see the ailing poet, where Tagore asked him to take charge of Vishwa Bharati after his absence. In 1951 after Independence, Vishwa Bharati was taken over by the Government of India as a Central University.

Rabindranath attended a number of Congress sessions in Calcutta where he composed songs and sang. ‘Jana Gana Mana’ the National Anthem was the opening song for the second day of the Congress Session in 1911.

Star News Agency
New Delhi. Prime Minister Dr. Manmohan Singh has released a commemorative stamp on Janab Syed Mohammed Ali Shihab Thangal on his first death anniversary in New Delhi today. Following is the text of the Prime Minister’s speech on the occasion :

He said, "I am very happy to release this stamp in commemoration of the life and work of Janab Syed Mohammed Ali Shihab Thangal on his first death anniversary. Janab Thangal was a great son of Kerala. He was an influential spiritual leader and a widely respected politician, leading the Kerala State Muslim League for more than three decades. As a political leader he contributed to the first successful experiment of coalition politics in India in the form of the Congress – IUML combine.

Janab Thangal’s genius was versatile. Apart from having a deep knowledge of Arabic Linguistics, he was known for his scholarship of the Sufi traditions, which represent the best of our composite culture. Thangal Saheb personified India’s pluralism and commitment to multi-culturalism.

Though a great religious leader, Thangal Saheb will long be remembered as the voice of democratic secular principles and a practitioner of secular solidarity. During the difficult period of country-wide communal unrest in 1992, his appeal for peace worked wonders in Kerala. All his life, Thangal Saheb furthered the call of communal amity through his speeches and writings.

Thangal Saheb’s life and work touched lakhs and lakhs of people. As an educationist, he helped establish and nurtured institutions, often bringing quality education to the most backward parts of Kerala. As a great philanthropist, he contributed immensely to the socio-economic uplift of the poor and the under-privileged.

The postage stamp that I have just released is a small token of our love and respect for a towering personality of our times. As we celebrate Janab Thangal Saheb’s life and work, as we express our gratitude to a great spiritual and political leader, we would do well to remember that the best way to pay tribute to him would be to uphold the values and principles he lived by. The life and teachings of Thangal Saheb will always serve as a beacon, guiding us in our path and helping us strengthen our glorious traditions of tolerance, pluralism and secularism. With these words, I once again express my heartfelt thanks to the organisers of today’s function for giving me this opportunity to pay homage to a great son of Kerala, a great spiritual and political leader of our time.”

I still remember my childhood,
Love, affection and chide of my mother,
Weeping in a false manner,
Playing in the moonlight,
Struggles with cousins and companions,
Psuedo-chide of my father,
I still have everything with me,
But i miss,
Those childhood memories
-DR. RAM SHARMA

Man has become octopus,
entangled in his own clutches,
fallen from sky to earth,
new foundation was made,
of rituals, customs and manners,
tried to come out of the clutches,
but not
waiting for doom`s day
-DR. RAM SHARMA

Presented by S. Javed
I'll follow you and make a heaven out of hell, and I'll die by your hand which I love so well.

In thy face I see honor, truth and loyalty.

Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.


Love goes toward love.

...Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or Bends with the remover to remove.
O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken.
It is the star to every wandering bark,
whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.


Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.

Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs,
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes,
Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears.
What is it else? A madness most discreet,
A choking gall and a preserving sweet.


Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.


Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.

They do not love that do not show their love.


The courses of true love never did run smooth.


A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.


It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.


Love is a spirit of all compact of fire.


Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.


My bounty is as deep as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.


My heart is ever at your service.


So they lov'd as love in twain
Had the essence but in one;
Two distinct, divisions none...


One half of me is yours, the other half yours-
Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,
And so all yours!


Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.


Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts.


Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
That for thy right myself will bear all wrong.


When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew.


I'll say she looks as clear as morning roses newly washed with dew.


Journey's end in lovers meeting.


If music be the food of love, play on


No sooner met but they looked;
No sooner looked but they loved;
No sooner loved but they sighed;
No sooner signed but they asked one another the reason;
No sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy;
And in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs to marriage...


Doubt thou the stars are fire,
Doubt the sun doth move,
Doubt truth to be a liar
but never doubt thy love.


WHEN daisies pied, and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
'Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!' O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,
And maidens bleach their summer smocks,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men, for thus sings he:
'Cuckoo!
Cuckoo, cuckoo!' O word of fear,
Unpleasing to a married ear.
-William Shakespeare


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