Introducing Rabindranath_Tagore

My fascination with poetry started when I first step into my secondary school library. While my stay at Malaysia oldest school was brief, the impact was tremendous. As I changed to a school with a lesser focus on literature , the fascination grew. But the interest exploded went I 'was put into' a science school where I spent 2 years till completion of my secondary study. Eventhough the culture of reading and intellectual discourse was not apparent there, the school's library collection was impressive. It is there that I was introduced to Rabindranath Tagore.

His works includes poem, writing and drama plays. He wrote in Bengali , English and obsecure sanskrit dialect. He became Asia's first Nobel Laurate in 1913.

I would like to leave you with one of his poem that I find to be so very relevant to me as a father and a husband:

Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning.
I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.
I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
Perhaps you glance at me and think, "What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!"
Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies.
I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver.
With whatever you find you create your glad games, I spend both my time and my strength over things I never can obtain.
In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I too am playing a game.
Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning.
I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.
I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
Perhaps you glance at me and think, "What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!"
Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies.
I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver.
With whatever you find you create your glad games, I spend both my time and my strength over things I never can obtain.
In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I too am playing a game.