Project Gutenberg · 59, free ebooks · 33 by Rabindranath Tagore. Stories from Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore. Book Cover. Download. One More Library - Free online ebooks in pdf, epub, kindle and other formats. English. In categories: Indian literature, Rabindranath Tagore collection. The Hungry Stones And Other Stories by Rabindranath Tagore. Adobe PDF icon. Download this document as soundofheaven.info: File size: MB What's this? light bulb idea.
|Language:||English, Spanish, Dutch|
|ePub File Size:||27.42 MB|
|PDF File Size:||20.20 MB|
|Distribution:||Free* [*Regsitration Required]|
Bangla pdf books of Rabindranath Tagore. Bengali pdf ebook download. All books of Rabindranath Tagore download in pdf file. Collection of pdf Bangla ebook. Free download or read online ✅Golpo Guccho bangla book from the category of Rabindranath Tagore. Portable Document Format (PDF) file size of Golpo. Free download or read online ✅Ghore Baire bangla book from the category of Rabindranath Tagore. Portable Document Format (PDF) file size of Ghore Baire is.
Chitrokor By Rabindranath Tagore. The story of my transgression, that I am going to relate, belongs to the latter kind, and I hope that a frank confession of it, before it is finally entered in the Book of Doom, may lessen its culpability. In any case, intellectual culture was considered to be a superfluity in the proper growth of our political life. An external cover hides distinctions, but does not remove them. Don't you see he is a sweeper? Noticing my restlessness, Kalika guessed what was in my mind. When, by dint of impatient footing of horn, our motor car reached the centre of the excited crowd, we found that the old municipal sweeper of our district was being beaten.
She has numerous internal evidences of my love for my country; but as it disdains to don the livery of the brand of nationalism, professed by her own party, she fiercely refuses to acknowledge it. From my younger days, I have continued to be a confirmed book-lover: Even my enemies would not dare to deny that I read them; and my friends know only too well how fond I am of discussing their contents.
This had the effect of eliminating most of my friends, till I have left to me Banbihari, the sole companion of my lonely debates. We have just passed through a period, when our police authorities, on the one hand, have associated the worst form of sedition with the presence of the Gita in our possession; and our patriots, on their side, have found it impossible to reconcile appreciation of foreign literature with devotion to one's Motherland.
Our traditional Goddess of culture, Saraswati, because of her white complexion, has come to be regarded with-suspicion by our young nationalists. It was openly declared, when the students shunned their College lectures, that the water of the divine lake, on which Saraswati had her white lotus seat, had no efficacy in extinguishing the fire of ill-fortune that has been raging for centuries round the throne of our Mother, Bharat-Lakshmi.
In any case, intellectual culture was considered to be a superfluity in the proper growth of our political life. In spite of my wife's excellent example and powerful urgings I do not wear Khaddar,—not because there is anything wrong in it, nor because I am too fastidious in the choice of my wardrobe.
On the contrary, among those of my traits, which are not in perfect consonance with our own national habits, I cannot include a scrupulous care as to how I dress. Once upon a time, before Kalika had her modern transformation, I used to wear broad-toed shoes from Chinese shops and forgot to have them polished.
I had a dread of putting on socks: I preferred Punjabis to English shirts, and overlooked their accidental deficiency in buttons.
These habits of mine constantly produced domestic cataclysms, threatening our permanent separation. Kalika declared that she felt ashamed to appear before the public in my company.
I readily absolved her from the wifely duty of accompanying me to those parties where my presence would be discordant. The times have changed, but my evil fortune persists. Kalika still has the habit of repeating: The fault lies deep in my own nature. I shrink from all conscious display of sectarian marks about my person. This shyness on my part leads to incessant verbal explosions in our domestic world, because of the inherent incapacity of Kalika to accept as final any natural difference, which her partner in life may possess.
Her mind is like a mountain stream, that boisterously goes round and round a rock, pushing against it in a vain effort to make it flow with its own current.
Her contact with a different point of view from her own seems to exercise an irresistible reflex action upon her nerves, throwing her into involuntary convulsions.
While getting ready to go out yesterday, the tone with which Kalika protested against my non-Khaddar dress was anything but sweet. Unfortunately, I had my inveterate pride of intellect, that forced me into a discussion with my wife.
It was unpleasant, and what more, futile. They feel safe when they deprive their thoughts of all freedom, and confine them in the strict Zenana of conformity. Our ladies today have easily developed their devotion to Khaddar, because it has added to the over-burdened list of our outward criterion's of propriety, which seem to comfort them. Kalika replied with almost fanatical fury: Reason crystallised becomes custom. Free thoughts are like ghosts, which find their bodies in convention.
Then alone they have their solid work, and no longer float about in a thin atmosphere of vacillation. I could see that these were the wise sayings of Nayanmohan, with the quotation marks worn out; Kalika found no difficulty in imagining that they were her own. The man who invented the proverb, 'The silent silence all antagonist', must have been unmarried.
It made my wife all the more furious, when I offered her no answer. We, on the contrary, carry it out in practice by imposing a uniformly white cover over all colour distinctions.
I was about to reply, that my protest against caste did truly have its origin in my mouth, whenever I accepted with relish the excellent food cooked by a Muhammadan.
It was certainly oral, but not verbal; and its movements were truly inward. An external cover hides distinctions, but does not remove them. I am sure my argument deserved utterance, but being a helpless male, I timidly sought safety in a speechless neutrality; for, I knew, from repeated experience, that such discussions, started in our domestic seclusion, are invariably carried by my wife, like soiled linen, to her friendly circle to be ruthlessly beaten and mangled.
She has the unpleasant habit of collecting counter-arguments from the mouth of Professor Nayanmohan, exultantly flinging them in my face, and then rushing away from the arena without waiting for my answer.
Golpo Sholpo By Rabindranath Tagore. We found a pdf Badnam By Rabindranath Tagore. This book is a Bangla Aporichita By Rabindranath Tagore. Rabindranath wrote this book in Bengali year We are offering everybody to download Rabindranath Tagore Story Books.
Adhayapok By Rabindranath Tagore. Adhayapok is a Bengali book which is written by Rabindranath Tagore. We found a pdf file Byabodhan By Rabindranath Tagore. Byabodhan is a Bengali book which is written by Rabindranath Tagore.