Yearning of the Human Spirit: Rabindranath Tagore
Image by ChatGPT There is a quiet ache that lives beneath all our certainties. It does not announce itself in the language of need, nor does it demand to be satisfied. It lingers, soft and persistent, like a question we cannot silence. That is yearning. Of our soul. One place where this yearning can be felt palpably is Rabindranath Tagore’s poetry. Let me confine examples to Gitanjali since that’s the only hard copy left with me now. Light, oh where is the light? Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! There is the lamp but never a flicker of flame – is such thy fate, my heart? [27] This is my prayer to thee, my lord – strike, strike at the root of penury in my heart. [36] This kind of yearning is not a lack. It does not arise because something is missing – like success not achieved or love not found. This yearning is about what we dimly remember. A sense that life, as it appears before us, is not all that is. That there is something more, vast and luminous, just beyon...
