My exposition of Gitanjali
Who are we? Where do we come from? Who is our creator? What happens at the end of life? Such questions have always fascinated the minds of philosophers. Socrates, a thinker in Western history, believed that the human soul is immortal. The idea of reincarnation and the immortality of the human soul has been addressed. Plausing the great bounty of god’s kindness in this sublime poem by India’s most cherished Renaissance figure, Rabindranath Tagore.
“Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.”
God, the ultimate creator, and sustainer of life, is the one who has gifted us this seed of mortality. His most incredible creation, the human being continues to fascinate the author. This human body is mortal, someday it will perish but the human soul is eternal and never ending. It is an energy that can neither be created nor destroyed. The human body metaphorically compared to a vessel is the mere container of this supreme energy. The vessel empties again and god in his mysterious ways fills it again with a new soul. Such is the almighty’s will.
“This little flute of reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.”
the author compares himself and the human body to a fragile flute which is rather weak and the almighty to a flute player. In his obeisance to god, he feels humbled that god has chosen him as a reflection of his work. God is the inspiration for his poetry, and it is gods miracle that he is able to write poetry. He believes that it is god’s kindness and extraordinaire that enables him to generate poetry from his soul.
“At the immortal touch of thy hands, my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.”
Under the inspiration of the almighty and his eternal knowledge, the poet finds the courage to write literature. His heart loses its constraints in unexplainable and endless joy. This union of god and the author causes boundless exultation that leads to an unexplainable burst of inspiration that allows the author to create magnificent works of literature.
“Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass and still thou pourest, there is still room to fill.”
Such large and endless gifts from the creator come to the author in his mere, small, and rather insignificant hands. He is grateful beyond his wits for the endowment of such astounding aptitude for translating the generous acts of god into upstanding poetry and in continuation of his metaphor he explains that god continues to grant gifts to the human being all through his life, and thus appreciation his magnanimous nature.
