আজি হতে শতবর্ষ পরে...
কে তুমি পড়িছ বসি আমার কবিতাখানি?
A hundred years from today...
who are you, sitting and reading my poem?
Tagore wrote this in 1896. He was right. Like always. We are still reading his poems, we are still thinking of him.
You lost your mother at 14. Your friend, intellectual companion and sister in law at 23. Your wife at 41. Your daughter Renuka at 43. Your father at 44. Your son at 46. Your eldest daughter Bela at 57.
Most people who undergo such loss would have stopped writing. But Tagore kept writing every single year of his life from 16 to 81, except 1891.
How does an artist who suffers so much still write, still feel, without holding grudge, without broken by life's design?
Thank you for teaching us that pain when fully felt, can become the deepest kind of love. A hundred years later, and many more to come, we are still and will still keep reading you.
Happy 165th, Kabiguru ❤️
When you’re the boss of the ideas in your head, you’re always willing to revise them.
When there’s no amount of evidence that will change your mind about something, it means that idea is your boss.
Humility is the awareness that no idea is worthy of being your boss.