Love and Longing Tagore Style

The Tagore buzz is still on and so here is another paraphrase. Did I just hear my regular readers (are there are any?) wail, ‘What, another one?’ To confess, Tagore, has really got under my skin and I can’t help but talk about his works. So begging pardon for this obsession, here is ‘another’ one…..

        This latest discovery belongs to the category of ‘Love and Longing’ and like many of Tagore’s love songs, is both a love song and a hymn. Many of Tagore’s verses, while overtly appearing as love songs can also, in the finest of ‘Bhakti’ traditions wherein the beloved is only another manifestation of the Supreme Being, be interpreted by the discerning listener as hymns to the Almighty.  

              So this one is about unrequited love, about the silent admirer who adores from a distance. Diligently retrieving bits and pieces of the words, glances and touches carelessly thrown away by the adored one, this lover weaves himself a wild and wonderful tapestry of dreams. And so he lives his love in his dreams, never mind that the Adored One is not even aware that he exists, let alone know of his love for her. And though he experiences his love vicariously and finally even rues that what he has are only the pieces and not the whole, I still find it kind of sweet and even poignant. In this day of loud, blatant, in-your-face expression of romance, the idea of a silent admirer living in the dream world he has woven around his Adoration, is not without appeal.

              And for the devotee, the song is a wistful expression of his devotion to the Almighty, of how because She never manifests in person, one can only worship from afar, finding Her in the bits and pieces of Her creations.

Ektuku Choyan Laage….

একটুকু ছোওয়া লাগে

একটুকু ছোঁওয়া লাগে, একটুকু কথা শুনি-
তাই দিয়ে মনে মনে রচি মম ফাল্গুনী ।

কিছু পলাশের নেশা, কিছু না চাঁপায় মেশা,
তাই দিয়ে সুরে সুরে রংগে রসে জাল বুনি ।

যেটুকু কাছেতে আসে ক্ষণিকের ফাঁকে ফাঁকে
চকিত মনের কোণে স্বপনের ছবি আঁকে ।

যেটুকু যায় যে দূরে ভাবনা কাঁপায় সুরে,
তাই নিয়ে যায় বেলা নূপুরের তাল গুনি ।।                                                      

With 
The lightest brush of your touch,
And 
The faintest murmur of your voice,
I compose for me,
My very own 
Spring Symphony!

With 
A tinge of the red of the Palash
And
A whiff of the fragrance of the Champa
I weave for me,
My very own 
Rhythm Tapestry!

And
Whatever little of You,
That slips through
Moment's seams
In my mind’s darkest corners
Draws vivid dreams.

Yet, 
All that of You,
Which, leaving me to rue,
Draws far away:
With the tinkle of anklet bells
Whiles to close,
My day.........