Stories from Tagore

by Rabindranath Tagore

instructing Indian children out of books that are specially intended for use in English schools. It is not merely that the subjects are unfamiliar, but almost every phrase has English associations that are strange to Indian ears.

The list of words to be studied has been chosen from each story in order to bring to notice different types of English words. The lists are in no sense exhaustive. The end in view has been to endeavour to create an interest in Indian words and their history, which may lead on to further study.

Amongst men of the Cabuliwallah's class, however, it is well known that the words father-in-law's house have a double meaning. It is a euphemism for jail, the place where we are well cared for, at no expense to ourselves.

year when kings of old went forth to conquest; and I, never stirring from my little corner in Calcutta, would let my mind wander over the whole

Perhaps the scenes of travel conjure themselves up before me and pass and repass in my imagination all the more vividly, because I lead such a vegetable existence that a call to travel would fall upon me like a thunder-bolt.

the light of our home also was to depart to her husband's house, and leave her father's in the shadow.

After the rains, there was a sense of ablution in the air, and the sun-rays looked like pure gold.

Since early dawn that day the wedding-pipes had been sounding, and at each beat my own heart throbbed. The wail of the tune, Bhairavi, seemed to intensify my pain at the approaching separation

This touch of his own little daughter had been always on his heart, as he had come year after year to Calcutta to sell his wares in the streets. Tears came to my eyes. I forgot that he was a poor Cabuli fruit-seller, while I was—. But no, what was I more than he? He also was a father.

In this world of human affairs there is no worse nuisance than a boy at the age of fourteen. He is neither ornamental nor useful.

If he talks with a childish lisp he is called a baby, and if he answers in a grown-up way he is called impertinent. In fact any talk at all from him is resented.

It is easy to excuse the shortcomings of early childhood, but it is hard to tolerate even unavoidable lapses in a boy of fourteen.

Yet it is at this very age when, in his heart of hearts, a young lad most craves for recognition and love; and he becomes the devoted slave of any one who shows him consideration. But none dare openly love him, for that would be regarded as undue indulgence and therefore bad for the boy. So, what with scolding and chiding, he becomes very much like a stray dog that has lost his master.

this love, which was almost an animal instinct, agitated the shy, nervous, lean, uncouth and ugly boy. No one could understand it, but it preyed upon his mind continually.

." He had heard the sailor on the river-steamer calling out the mark on the plumb-line. Now he was himself plumbing an unfathomable sea.

moustache. A French word which has found its home in English. French is frequently giving to English new words.

with delight was this one sovereign truth, this reality of all realities: "Once there was a king."

When we were young, we understood all sweet things; and we could detect the sweets of a fairy story by an unerring science of our own. We never cared for such useless things as knowledge. We only cared for truth. And our unsophisticated little hearts knew well where the Crystal Palace of Truth lay and how to reach it. But to-day we are expected to write pages of facts, while the truth is simply this: "There was a king."

I prayed with all my might: "Please, God, send some more rain till half-past seven is over." For I was quite ready to believe that there was no other need for rain except to protect one helpless boy one evening in one corner of Calcutta from the deadly clutches of his tutor.

The great bubble of hope burst in my breast, and my heart collapsed. Truly, if there is a punishment to fit the crime after death, then my tutor will be born again as me, and I shall be born as my tutor.

I hope no child of immature age will be allowed to read this story, and I sincerely trust it will not be used in text-books or primers for junior classes.

"And the king had a queen." That was good to begin with. He had only one! It is usual for kings in fairy stories to be extravagant in queens. And whenever we hear that there are two queens our hearts begin to sink. One is sure to be unhappy.

There was only one thing that would have made me go into the forest, and that was to get away from my tutor!

how could there be a marriage between a princess of the Warrior Caste and a boy of the priestly Brahman Caste? Her readers would have imagined at once that the writer was preaching against our social customs in an underhand way. And they would write letters to the papers.

The boy of seven did not know that, if there were some "What then?" after death, no grandmother of a grandmother could tell us all about it. But the child's faith never admits defeat, and it would snatch at the mantle of death itself to turn him back.

Thus it is that we send the little body of the child floating on the back of sleep over the still water of time, and then in the morning read a few verses of incantation to restore him to the world of life and light.

The silent ceremonial of the setting sun was revealed in all its glowing splendour.

you cannot keep up for ever the pretence of an imaginary bird.

It seemed as though the disobedient wavelets themselves were running away from some greater Raicharan with the laughter of a thousand children.

The mischievous fairies of the river with their mysterious voices seemed inviting him into their play-house.

Only the river ran on with its splashing, gurgling noise as before,—as though it knew nothing at all and had no time to attend to such a tiny human event as

The students of the hostel, where Phailna was a boarder, were greatly amused by Raicharan's country manners, and I have to confess that behind his father's back Phailna joined in their fun.

Then he went out and was mingled with the numberless people of the world.

the sun was strong and the whole of Calcutta was awake.

He felt as if he were pushing against a fearful obstacle which was bodiless and without pity.

The street lamps were lighted from one road to another and it seemed to him that a watchful darkness, like some demon, was keeping its eyes wide open to guard every movement of its victim.

It burst,—that bubble filled with the hot vapour of pain. And now there was neither darkness nor light, but only one tense fulness.

All the world seemed to think that, because she did not speak, therefore she did not feel;

Night and day her parents' minds were aching on her account.

her lips trembled like a leaf in response to any thought that rose in her mind.

When we express our thought in words, the medium is not found easily. There must be a process of translation, which is often inexact, and then we fall into error.

stepping from her queenly throne, the river-goddess became a garden deity of each home, and forgetful of herself performed her task of endless benediction with swift and cheerful foot.

stole away to the waterside and sat there. But here Nature fulfilled her want of speech and spoke for her.

Just as every town needs an open space where all may breathe, so a village needs two or three gentlemen of leisure, who can give time to all; then, if we are lazy and want a companion, one is to hand.

she desired ardently to bring some great help to Pratap, to be of real aid, to prove by any means that she was not a useless burden to the world.

Not that anything is really impossible,

She saw herself, questioned herself, but no answer came that she could understand.

Subha's heart was heavy with tears, like a mist-wrapt dawn.

flung herself down on her grassy couch beside her dear river. It was as if she threw her arms about Earth, her strong silent mother, and tried to say: "Do not let me leave you, mother. Put your arms about me, as I have put mine about you, and hold me fast."

She imprisoned her hair, knotting it up in laces, she hung her about with ornaments, and did her best to kill her natural beauty.