The Collected Plays. Rabindranath Tagore
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Yes.
But we can hardly believe you. How can you find out the path by simply singing?
If Chandra never comes back, you shall.
We never knew that we loved Chandra so intensely. We made light of him all these days.
When we are in the playing mood, we become so intent on the play, that we neglect the playmate.
But, if he once comes back, we shall never neglect him any more.
I am afraid that we have often given him pain.
Yet his love rose above all that. We never knew how beautiful he was, when we could see him every day.
(They sing.)
When there was light in my world
You stood outside my eyes.
Now that there is none,
You come into my heart.
When there were dolls for me, I played;
You smiled and watched from the door.
Now that the dolls have crumbled to dust,
You come and sit by me.
And I have only my heart for my music,
When my lute-strings have broken.
That Minstrel sits so still and silent. I don't like it.
He looks ominous,—like the lowering autumn cloud.
Let us dismiss him.
No, no. It gives us heart, when he sits there.
Don't you see that there is no sign of fear in his face?
It seems as if some messages were striking his forehead. His body appears to espy some one in the distance. There seem to be eyes on the tips of his fingers.
Simply by watching him, we can see that some one is coming through the dark.
Look. He is standing up. He is turning towards the East, and making his obeisance.
Yet there is nothing to be seen, not even a streak of light.
Why not ask him what it is that he sees?
No, don't disturb him.
Do you know, it seems to me that the morning has dawned in him.
As if the ferry-boat of light had reached the shore of his forehead.
His mind is still, like the morning sky.
The storm of birds' songs will burst out presently.
He is striking his lute. His heart is singing.
Hush. He is singing.
(The Minstrel sings.)
Victory to thee, victory for ever,
O brave heart.
Victory to life, to joy, to love,
To eternal light.
The night shall wane, the darkness shall vanish,
Have faith, brave heart.
Wake up from sleep, from languor of despair,
Receive the light of new dawn with a song.
(A ray of light hovers before the cavern.)
Ah! There he is. Chandra! Chandra!
Hush. Don't make any noise. I cannot see him distinctly.
Ah! It cannot be any other than Chandra.
Oh, what joy!
Chandra! Come!
Chandra! How could you leave us for so long?
Have you been able to capture the Old Man?
Chandra
Yes, I have.
But we don't see him.
Chandra
He is coming.
But what did you see in the cave? Tell us.
Chandra
No, I cannot tell you.
Why?
Chandra
If my mind were a voice, then I could tell you.
But could you see him, whom you captured? Was he the Old Man of the World?
The Old Man who would like to drink up the sea of youth in his insatiable thirst.
Was it the One who is like the dark night, whose eyes are fixed on his breast, whose feet are turned the wrong way round, who walks backwards?
Was it the One who wears the garland of skulls, and lives in the burning-ground of the dead?
Chandra
I do not know, I cannot say. But he is coming. You shall see him.
Minstrel
Yes, I see him.
(The light strengthens and gradually throughout the scene grows to a culminating brilliance at the close.)
Where?
Minstrel
Here.
He is coming out of the cave.—Some one is coming out of the cave.
How wonderful.
Chandra
Why, it is you!
Our Leader!
Our Leader!
Our Leader!
Where is the Old Man?
Leader
He is nowhere.
Nowhere?
Leader
Yes, nowhere.
Then what is he?
Leader
He is a dream.
Then you are the real?
Leader
Yes.
And we are the real?
Leader
Yes.
Those who saw you from behind imagined you in all kinds of shapes.
We didn't recognize you through the dust.
You seemed old.
And then you came out of the cave,—and now you look like a boy.
It seems just as if we had seen you for the first time.
Chandra
You are first every time. You are first over and over again.
Leader
Chandra! You must own your defeat. You couldn't catch the Old Man.
Chandra
Let our festival begin. The sun is up.
Minstrel, if you keep so still, you will swoon away. Sing something.
(The Minstrel sings.)
I lose thee, to find thee back again and again,
My beloved.
Thou leavest me, that I may receive thee all the more, when thou returnest.
Thou canst vanish behind the moment's screen
Only because thou art mine for evermore,
My beloved.
When I go in search of thee, my heart trembles, spreading ripples across my love.
Thou smilest through thy disguise of utter absence, and