Guys, last night I read “Gitanjali”, a collection of Rabindranath Tagore’s poems. Unfortunately, I read the translated version 😦 Although what I read was a cut to cut translation, (hence it was in prose), it was an amazing experience. 🙂  This edition had a preface by W.B.Yeats written in 1912. Yeats was amazed at the immense talent, creativity and humility with which each and every word, every alphabet was woven into these poems. Yeats mentions that he always wondered why Tagore is held with so much reverie in his country. When he read his works (of course, translated), he was completely under a spell. Same was my case. Gitanjali transports you to another world, in the true sense of the term. It is a union of your soul with the metaphysical realm, without leaving aside your physical realm. It is about love, loving His beings, his things in whatever form you find them. Tagore pens of each and everyone, each and every thing with so much grace that you fall in love with everything… the skies, the stars, the grass and even the weeds. 🙂

Oh poor me! I again drift away from what I actually wanted to write. I have a friend of mine who is a known Marathi poet. When I had told him of having bought this book for myself (I bought Gitanjali one year ago and read it yesterday 😦 BAd Gurl, I know you must be saying this). He had, then, said, “Tagore is such a noble spirit and his poetry is of so much height that one must read him only in his original texts so as to understand a bit of him.” Being an eternal lazy bee, I just said, “Who’s going to learn Bengali for that? English is something I can understand at sight… so I am content with what I have (the translated version).” Yesterday, after reading some of his poems from Gitanjali, I realized I was wrong. What my friend said was right. If Tagore can keep you spell bound, elated with his translated works, how explosive will be the energy of his original works? How much calm will his pen provide when read in his native tongue? I must say, I am envious of everyone who knows to read, write and speak Bengali. Can someone teach me the language? I want to read the text in the original form? I do not want someone else to interpret the original for me? I do not want the food. I want to learn how to hunt. 🙂

I have known, till date, several people who’ve read loads of books (my collection is close to negligible). At times, I used to wonder how come they have the patience to read so much? I have felt this urge many a times.But never have I put it into practice. After reading Tagore (although in the translated version), I have understood what this thirst really is. Poetry has the capability to move a person from the remotest part of his soul. This is where passion develops and this when you become a good reader… knowing many things, yet oblivious to many.  🙂

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