A Night of Magic on Rabindranath Tagore's 164th Birthday Fair!
Hello
Steemians
I'm @mhsnrasel from Bangladesh
Assalamualaikum everyone. welcome to my world, I'm here to share My last night experience of Rabindranath Tagore's 164th Birthday Fair!
Rabindra Kuthibari
Oh, what a night it was! I just happened to walk in on the effervescent, soul-reviving euphoria of Rabindranath Tagore's 164th birthday fair last night, and my heart still gets rhythmical with Rabindra Sangeet! The heaven turned into a paradise of happiness as if Gurudev himself smiled upon us and gave his timelessness to every one of the songs, poems, and smiles that poured under the midnight sky. Ride me around tonight and reminisce, which was a big hug from Bengal's favorite poet.
Lighting Balloons
The festival was a labyrinth of color, sound, and feeling. I walked in and was met with the gentle twinkle of fairy lights hung between the stalls, each stall overflowing with Tagore's essence. Books—what treasures of books! —from Gitanjali to Ghare-Baire. Shelves were stacked high with them, their pages gently whispering of love, liberty, and mankind. I couldn't help creating a dog-eared book of Sonar Tari, as if I possessed part of Tagore's soul. There, on the edge, the artists depicted the portrait of the Bard of Bengal, his wise eyes shining with visions of an infinite universe.
People Are Listening Rabindra Shangeet
Music, though, was the flesh and soul of the night. A dozen young and old singers huddled under a banyan tree, vocal melodies drifting towards "Amar Sonar Bangla" — the national anthem of Bangladesh, written by Tagore himself. I tell you, each note was like a breeze blown by the Padma River in love and pride. A little girl, not above ten years, sang "Ekla Cholo Re" so emotionally that the audience lost all control, her small voice compelling us to proceed in our path without a moment's hesitation.
I was singing and dancing together with other anonymous individuals who became like family members on the last beat of the song. Each of the food stalls infused their own flavor into the festival. The smell of pungent-smelling Hilsa and the smell of pungent-smelling sweet yogurt wafted through the air, enticing all of them. After listening to Rabindra Sangeet, we all went to the actual fair. By actual fair, I mean the food at the fair.
I picked up a plate of jhalmuri, all this hot and sour bite-sized food, and befriended a vendor who explained to me how Tagore's stories had kept dreams alive when times had been hard in life. As if with every bite and every word, his philosophy of happiness and optimisms swathed me.
The day's highlight? A stunning performance of Tagore's dance-drama Chitrangada. Dancers in aesthetically attuned sarees moved grandly with strength and beauty, reciting the story of a princess-warrior. The audience was mesmerized, tapping fingers on the beat of the drums. I watched an elderly couple recollect how they had fallen in love years ago at the same play.
These were moments which made the fair a tapestry of shared memory, with the age-old verses of Tagore sewn together. As the evening fell, I sat at the edge of a still stage on which poets read out Tagore's verses aloud.These moments gave the fair a sense of shared memory, interwoven by the immortal words of Tagore. Later, towards the dying hours of the day, I sat next to a small stage on which poets were reciting Tagore's poems.
"Where the mind is without fear…," one began and my throat constricted.His words, written over a hundred years ago, still spark hope and courage. Striding back home, I carried in my heart the glow of the fair, whistling "Hridoyer Ekul Okul" to myself. Tagore's 168th birthday was not a celebration, but a reminder that his legacy of humanness, creativity, and love continues to light our lives like an ever-singing song.
Thank you for reading the entire blog till the end. See you in the next blog. Everyone stay well and healthy.