First Grief
First Grief
from Lipika
by Rabindranath Tagore
Note: This little piece of prose has been one of my favorites for more than 2 decades now. I realized that this book is no more easily available either in physical form or e-form and thus thought to save some parts of it in my blogs and let it become an instrument in reaching unto the right audience one day, somewhere, in some part of the universe. (Aashish Singla)
Grass covers the spot where once a path led through forest shade.
In its solitude, suddenly someone said behind me , "Don't you know who I am?"
I turned around and gazed at the face. I said, "I remember, but I'm not sure of the name ----"
She said, "I was yours long ago, the grief of your twenty-fifth year"
In the soft corners of her eyes something shone, as if a moonbeam in the deeps of a lake.
I stood stock-still in wonder. I said, "I saw you that day dark and overcast, a stormy rain-cloud; today, I see an image of the fresh light of gold. Then have all the tears of that time gone?"
Without saying a word she smiled; I understood, all was still there in that smile. The monsoon-cloud had learnt the laughter of the fragrant siuli-flower.
I asked, "The youth of my twenty-fifth year, do you keep it still with you?"
She said, "Do you not see the garland round my neck?"
I saw that not a petal had fallen of that far day's wreath of Spring.
I said, "All else I had has faded away but on your neck the youth of my twenty-fifth year even today is fresh."
Slowly taking the garland she put it about my neck. She said, "Do you remember? You said that day you wanted no consolation, only grief."
Ashamed, I said, "I did say that. But a long time has passed since then and at some point I forgot it."
She said, "That was God's kindness to you, but He did not forget. Since then I have waited secretly in the shade - now wed me to your welcome! "
Taking her hand in mine I said, "What radiance, what beauty!"
She said, "Today it falls that what was grief is peace."
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