A Search for Unity

I've just finished reading, Rabindranath Tagore's Atmaparichay (Of Myself), a collection of autobiographical writings by the Bengali poet. And it was with great delight that I did so.

Tagore does not venture to give us a mundane description of his life. Instead I think he tries to convey something more central: who he was, and what he lived for. At the same time he makes some piercing observations about the world that we live in, the trappings of power, fame and 'high-speed society'.

In the succession of essays there is a sense of his development as a poet and of his relationship with the Divine. The two are linked inextricably, for he considered his work through poetry to be to awaken and raise the human spirit to the Divine. His work was an attempt to convey that rapture of divine consciousness which was so much at the core of his experience.

My heart and soul have responded to the unarticulated message, the unstruck note that swirls about Creation and resonates from Time that has no beginning towards Time that has no end...

I am not a holy man, not an ascetic. I have merely tasted the imperishable essence of the cosmos and returned again and again to say how good it was.

Tagore was and still is a revered and well-known figure in India. With this came the inevitable fame and public scrutiny of his life and work. But these did not bear on his worldly purpose. It was his nature as a poet, above all else, that dominated his being. It was this that he came to do, and this that sustained him. This is in my view the rare mark of a life whose song was in perfect consonance with the cosmic melody.

Love is the greatest blessing of fate, and it is also the best reward for a poet. He who can offer nothing but work may be repaid with fame, but he whose burden it is to offer joy cannot be paid off without love as his due.

It is today, for many people across the globe, the end of the year, the end of one more revolution in the cycle of time. It is Diwali, the festival of lights.

For all the lamps that we may light outside, there remains that unseen and unknown flame within that waits, silently, to be discovered and to illumine that which remains so darkly concealed within us. Let them serve, then, to remind us of what they symbolise: let this be a time to renew our aspiration for love, peace and harmony, within and without.

A happy Diwali to all who celebrate it! Best wishes for a prosperous and fulfilling year ahead.

When I give up the helm
I know that the time has come for thee to take it.
What there is to do will be instantly done.
Vain is this struggle.

Then take away your hands
And silently put up with your defeat, my heart,
And think it your good fortune to sit perfectly still
Where you are placed.

These my lamps are blown out at every little puff of wind,
And trying to light them I forget all else again and again.

But I shall be wise this time and wait in the dark,
Spreading my mat on the floor;
And whenever it is thy pleasure, my lord,
Come silently and take thy seat here.

- Rabindranath Tagore

In English...

Wer Fremdsprachen nicht kennt, weiss nichts von seiner eigenen.
(He who does not know foreign languages does not know anything about his own.)
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

By necessity language is an imperfect transmitter of thought: it introduces ambiguity and the opportunity for misconception. Thoughts and feeling simply cannot be communicated in their entirety, save perhaps by the most inspired poetry, through language. So language of itself filters thought, and each language on its own must increase this limitation further!

The power of language to affect the way in which we think, and the way in which we express ourselves, is enormous. Simply the sounds of a particular language, the forms and intonation of its words, affect the way in which the mind interprets them. Do they not say that some languages sound sweeter than others? Indeed, I have often found that poetry comes easier to me in French than it does in English. When I want to think creatively, I tend to do so in French—it seems naturally to work better that way. Sanskrit always creates in me a calming sense of rhythm and flux. I'm sure that every language creates its own subtle effects in this manner.

The truth in this statement of Goethe becomes ever more apparent to me. Knowing another language is like viewing the world from a different perspective. It subtly alters the point of reference, slightly alters the way in which thought is expressed and understood. I guess this is why the history of a culture is embedded in its language, and by understanding the language we are better able to understand the culture.

If we are to preserve the rich and varied cultures of the world, then, we must preserve their languages. The importance of teaching these to children—and in particular the mother tongue if this is not English—cannot, I think, be underestimated.

En Français...

Wer Fremdsprachen nicht kennt, weiss nichts von seiner eigenen.
(Qui ne sait parler des langues étrangères ne sait rien de sa propre langue.)
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

La langue est nécessairement un transmetteur imparfait des idées: elle introduit l'ambiguité avec qui viennent des idées fausses. Les pensées et les sentiments ne peuvent pas être communiqué en totalité, sauf peut-être par la poésie la plus haute. La langue elle-même filtre donc les idées, et une langue spécifique doit augmenter cette limitation!

Le pouvoir de la langue d'influencer comment on pense, et comment on s'éxprime, est énorme. Même le son d'une langue, la forme et l'intonation de ses mots, influence notre expérience mentale. N'est-il pas dit que quelques langues sont plus mélodieuses que les autres? Vraiment, je trouve que la poésie vient plus façilement en Français qu'en Anglais. Quand je veux être créatif, je pense en Français! Quand je lis le Sanskrit, j'ai le sens d'un rythm, un flux calmant. Je suis sûr que chaque langue crée comme ça ses propres effets subtils.

Pour moi, la vérité de cette déclaration de Goethe devient toujours plus claire. Savoir parler une autre langue est pouvoir voir le monde d'une nouvelle perspective. Ça change délicatement notre référentiel, donnant des nouvelles expréssions et compréhensions aux idées. Je pense que c'est pourquoi l'histoire d'une culture est liée tellement à sa langue. Par comprendre la langue, on peut mieux comprendre la culture.

Donc, si on veut conserver les cultures riches et variées du monde, si on veut célébrer notre humanité collective, il faut conserver leur langues. On ne peut pas sous-estimer l'importance d'enseigner les langues aux enfants—en particulier la langue maternelle si elle n'est pas l'Anglais. On ne veut pas une planète monolingue.

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began,
So is it now I am a man,
So be it when I shall grow old
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man:
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.

- William Wordsworth

I like William Wordsworth!

A ship blowing helplessly
In winds of fortune, winds of fate.
Wavering tremulously,
Love one moment, then hate.

Trapped in boundless solitude
Where no anchor can be cast.
No meaning seems apparent,
And impotence seems vast.

Yet beneath the wind and wave
In movements secret, unobserved,
The course is steered,
The calling heard.

The veil one day will vanish,
Her illusive cover blown.
The sea, its awesome workings
Revealed, will then be known.