Tagore’s Attitude to Life, Death and God as Revealed in ‘Gitanjali’

TAGORE’S ATTITUDE TO LIFE, DEATH AND GOD
AS REVEALED IN ‘GITANJALI’

It is a truism to say that Rabindranath Tagore is securely ensconced in the pantheon of the world’s immortal poets. The Gitanjali poems, which won for him the much coveted Nobel Prize, are, to speak in the words of Dr. Radhakrishnan, the offerings of the finite to the infinite. Indeed, this collectionof poems envisages a merging of the human in the Divine, the impermanent in the permanent. To divide this “Garland of flowers” into compartments of distinct features is hazardous; but, for the sake of convenience, we can separate the flowers from the garland without making them lose their aroma ut infra!

Life, with all its variety, to Tagore, is not a vale of sorrow, but an abode of joy–“the joy that makes the earth flow over in the riotous excess of the grass...., the joy that sweeps in with the tempest, shaking and waking all life with laughter...” He is a sage who is in love with life. He considers life as a journey and as a continuing sacrifice “culminating in a total offering of all one is (Atmasamarpana) so that by losing all one may gain all” (Prof. Iyengar). This struggle of the pilgrim to reach God is hard and tiresome, and this “voyage to its eternal home “comes to an end when the Jiva realises that “vain is this seeking! Unbroken perfection is over all!”

Tagore, unlike many spiritual seekers, does not seek spiritual salvation in a sequestered life, in the solitude of a forest or in the seclusion of a cave. Musty virtues practised in emotional vacuum do not appeal to him. He never turns his upon the problems of life, nor is he blind to its charms. He says: “No, I will never shut the doors of my senses. The delights of sight and hearing and touch will bear thy delight.” So, to the “Bard of Shantiniketan”, the world is neither a delusion nor a bondage, but a divine sport of joy. The bard says: “Our master himself has joy fully taken upon him the bonds of creation; he is bound with us all for ever.” Tagore does not accept deliverance sought through asceticism, renunciation and self-torture: “Deliverance is not for me in renunciation. I feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight.” Further, the influence of Brahmo Samaj and the spirit of the Indian Renaissance can be seen in his poems:

“Leave this chanting and singing and telling of Beads! Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut? Open thine eyes and see thy God is not thee!”

He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the path-maker is breaking stones. And his assertion that God’s feet “rest among the poorest, the lowliest and the lost” is in consonance with the “Sermon on the Mount.” Tagore says in ‘The Religion of Man’: “All work that is good, however small in content, is universal in character. Such work makes for realisation of a Viswakarma, the ‘world worker’ who works for all.” A worshipper inspired by such conception of religion–which reminds us of the utterance of Lord Krishna: “Yogah karmasu kausalam” (Dexterity in action is Yoga)–would say that there is no sense in looking for union with God in mosques, churches or temples. He hears the call for service in the humanity at large. So the poet urges: “Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense!...Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow.” The same message can be found in the poems of Swami Vivekananda:

“These are His manifold forms before thee,
Rejecting them, where seekest thou for God?
Who loves all beings without distinction
He indeed is worshipping best his God.”

and in the words of Sri Aurobindo:

“He who would bring the heavens here
Must descend himself into clay
And the burden of earthly nature bear
And tread the dolorous way.”

Moreover, as Prof. Iyengar says, “Like Wordsworth, like Walter de la Mare, Tagore too found in children a mystic quality.” One aspect of childhood on which the poet has lavished his imagination is the relation between the child and its mother, and the nature of that attachment is something sacred and peculiar. The child with its charming face and sweet smile is an object of delight, but one may ask, where does this charm come from? The poet aptly answers:

“The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby’s limbs–does anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was a young girl, it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love.”

Further, Tagore reads a lot of meaning in childhood and often there is an element of symbolism too in his poems on childhood. The mother, whose aim in life is to make her child happy by providing it with all the attractive things of life, says:

“When I bring to you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is a play of colours on clouds, on water and why flowers are painted in tints……”

Here the Poet is suggesting that God, the Creator, is our Father or Mother, and all the beautiful things of life and all the pleasing sights and sounds in nature are intended for us, His or Her children.

Cosmic Consciousness is another salient feature of Tagore’s thought, and in this context, he expresses a kind of thrill and satisfaction in his poetry identifying himself with every atom and enjoying the throb of cosmic life in his pulse:

“The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures…... I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.”

In his case, we do not find any contradiction between national fervour and international sympathy. He believes that literature is an “international conversation” and the “whole world, however wide, is but homeland extended.” He is, in one way, a poet united with the world–a “Viswakavi.” His sweeping universalism can be seen even in the prayer he articulates for his country’s redemption:

“Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high,
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
by narrow domestic walls.”

This intense “lover of life” does not shun and shirk death but looks at it in the proper perspective. He shows a kind of romantic attitude towards death and regards it as “life’s high meed.” He addresses death as a bosom friend in endearing terms: “O thou the last fulfilment of life, death, my death, come and whisper to me.” He finds no contradiction between love of life and longing for death and asserts thus: “And because I love this life, I know I shal1 love death as well.” The affirmation of immortality rings through his poems where he welcomes, accepts and looks beyond death. He says: “The child cries out when from the right breast the mother takes it away, in the very next moment to find in the left one its consolation.” Death is only a passing phase between two types of births – birth and rebirth. Life does not end in death: “But I find that thy will knows no end in me. And when old words die out on the tongue, new melodies break forth from the heart; and where the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders.” In the Bard’s opinion, death is God’s messenger. He says: “Thou has left death for my companion and I shall crown with my life.” And death is the bridegroom for whom Life-bride waits and for him “the flowers have been woven and garland is ready.” At the same time, Tagore never suffers from the gloomy death-wish of the existentialists because he has an abiding faith in God and he realises that “the endless cycles of change are lost in the Infinite, the varied chords are lost in the Silence, the many forms are lost in the One”:

“The One remains, the many change and pass;
Heaven’s light forever shines, Earth’s shadows fly:
Life, like a dome of many-coloured-glass,
Stains the white radiance of Eternity,
Until Death tramples it to fragments.” (Prof. Iyengar)

Tagore believes in God who is Immanent and Omnipresent. The Bhagavad Gita–the song of the Lord of Kurukshetra–exercised a profound influence on this “God intoxicated poet.” As a typical follower of the Gita, Tagore submits everything of his at the Lotus-feet of the Lord and asks him to shape his life as He wishes. This is conspicuous in the following elegant and eloquent words of the poet: “Leave all thy burdens on his hands who can bear all, and never look behind in regret.” This is reminiscent of the Almighty’s “Abhaya” to Arjuna:

“Sarvadharman parityajya
mam ekam saranam vraja
aham tva sarvapapebhyo
mokshayishyami ma suchah.” (Bhagavad Gita).

Again, very beautifully Tagore beseeches God:

“Thou has made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life”

God will be satisfied when we offer to Him even a leaf ora fruit with a devout heart. Though He playfully asks us, “What has thou to give to me,” he gives us invaluable things in return to the valueless things we offer. This again echoes the Flute players utterance:

“Patram pushpam phalam toyam
yo me bhaktya prayacchati
tad aham bhaktyupahrtam
asnami prayatatmanah” (Bhagavad Gita)

As Prof. Iyengar says: “The phenomenal world in which the individual plays his obscure part is really the “Lila” or the drama of the Supreme, and to know this is to participate in the total joy of the cosmic play.” In one way, God “the enchanter of the heart” plays with man by veiling His radiance with “Maya.” The poet exhorts;

“He it is who weaves the web of this Maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself.”

The traditional ideas that music is the bridge between man and God and through music (or singing) man can achieve his goal–his union with God–are brought out vividly in the following verse of Tagore; “I know thou takest pleasure in my singing. I know that only as a singer I come before thy presence.” Besides, the poet can listen to the divine music that pervades the world with his mystical ears;

“The light of thy music illumines the world. The life breath of thy music runs from sky to sky. The holy stream of thy music breaks through all stony obstacles and rushes on...” Moreover, this “darling of the muses” goes to the extent of saying:

“It was my songs that taught me all the lessons I ever learnt; they showed me secret paths, the, brought before my sight many a star on the horizon of my heart.”

The devotional poetry of Jayadeva, Chaitanya and Chandidas made an indelible impact on the author of Gitanjali. The theme of the lover–Radha pining for her union with Krishna, symbolizing the individual soul’s union with the universal soul, is ubiquitous in the Gitanjalipoems. The woman in loveearnestly requests her beloved–waiting for the beloved, the “Abhisarika” approaching her lover; “Oh my only friend, my best beloved, the gates are open in my house...do not pass bylike a dream,” after waiting for a long time she says to her maid; “Have younot heard his silent steps? He comes, comes, ever comes;” and in the enthralling embrace of her lord, she whispers; “I want thee, only thee–let my heart repeat without end. All desires that distract me, day and night, are false and empty to the core,” and finally tells him that she cannot bear the pangs of separation:

“Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite, and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil.”

Indeed, the ultimate goal of everything in this universe is to reach the Almighty; everything goes to him in the end. The poet proclaims:

“Thy gifts to us mortals fulfil all our needs and yet run to thee undiminished.”

The river has its everyday work to do and hastens through fields and hamlets; yet its incessant stream winds towards the washing of thy feet….” If this sublime goal is achieved, if one can know the Almighty, then everything becomes known”: “When one knows thee then alien there is none, then no door is shut...” Besides, the poet firmly wants to meet Him in this life itself: “If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight.” Further, he is eager to visualise the “Viswarupa”: “Let him appear before my sight as the first of all lights and all forms.” To know God one has to become a Godman. For achieving that state, the poet says:

“I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowing that thy living touch is upon all my limbs.”

I shall ever try to keep all untruths out from my thoughts, knowing that thou art that truth which has kindled the light of reason in my mind...” And such a person’s prayer to the Almighty is:

“This is my prayer to thee, my Lord–strike, strike at the root of penury in my heart.

Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows

And give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love.”

To conclude: From the observations we have made, we can say that Tagore’s attitude to life is that of a Mahatma (great soul). His attitude to death is that of an intrepid Kshatriya; and his attitude to God is that of a true Bhakta. He appears, to the modern eyes, as a modern version of an ancient sage-poet, say Vyasa or Valmiki, chanting the age old sonorous song in a tone that is fresh and familiar.