Rabindranath Tagore has passed away. With him passes out an entire Age. It is even impossible to realise now the incalculable loss suffered by Bengal, by India,-may, by the entire world. For, it will be a century before a proper endeavour can be made towards an evaluation of the gigantic personality of Rabindranath Tagore. A descendent of Rammohun
Roy and of the greatest prophets of Humanity from Buddha to Nanak and Chaitanya, from Homer and Valmiki to Hafiz, Chandidas, Shakespeare, Goethe, Beethoven and Wagner.
Rabindranath will be linked to the galaxy of Immortals for all time to come.
Out of the great churning of the vast ocean of Indian civilization by the iron West, emerged the nectar of Life, full and invigorating. Out of that immortal nectar was born Rabindranath Tagore. In him was personified a complete Age in its best form, – the great Age of Transition, from the mediaeval to the modern, from the local to the universal. It was in Rabindranath and Rabindranath alone that the supreme and sublime genius of the found expression in its infinite variety.
Rabindranath was the living embodiment of the Age of Rammohun, Rammohun Roy was the man who threw open the portals between the East and the West which had lain closed for centuries. That marked the coming of a New Dawn. Then, behind those open and wide
portals slowly rose the New Sun, Rabindranath, illuminating the Eastern horizon and gradually filling the entire world,-East, West, North and South,-with glorious sunshine. The leaves danced, the flowers blossomed, birds sang. Life awoke and expanded to the rhythm of the Poet’s touch on the harp.
A son of Man and Prophet of Humanity, Rabindranath never bowed to any earthly monarch, however great, in slavish servility. Even during a War, when men fly at men’s throats, when races fling themselves against races in utter hatred, Rabindranath Tagore never feared to say what he wanted to say and never hesitated to pay his supreme homage to the Universal
Man whom he always regarded as greater and higher than the intensely and exclusively national and racial men.
Rabindranath’s death at a time when the world is plunged in wars and battles reminds one of the picture of an ice-topped mountain with its high pinnacle lost in the white clouds of the heavens at the foot of which on every side are constantly breaking the angry waves of the ocean lashed into fury by a tremendous storm. The waves rave and rant, but the rock stands firm. Such a majestic mountain amongst the turbulent ocean was Rabindranath, the immortal poet of universal humanity.
At last the Call comes and the great Poet bows low in obeisance to the Lord and Master.
We will not weep, we will not sorrow. We give farewell to our dearly beloved Poet who goes on to meet the Great One, of whom he was an undying spark. He leaves his immortal imprints behind, which Time will reveal and interpret as Time marches on.
– Jogananda Das