Sakaale uthhiya aami mone mone boli
Saara din aami jeno bhaalo hoye choli
Aadesh korenja mor gurujone
Aami jeno sheyi kaaj kori bhaalo mone
At break of day I (regularly, reverentially) tell myself
That the whole day I should act only exemplarily (well-mannered, virtuous, lofty acts)
Whatever my elders desire of me (order me, advise me)
Those tasks I will do most willingly (diligently, perseveringly)
The Bengali verse above has a permanent residence in my psyche for the past 50 years. I probably wrote it when I was 10 or 11; it is also possible that I heard it, or read it somewhere. I don't know the authorship. For all one knows, it can be also Tagore; but that is immaterial.
As I write these lines today, and open them up to anyone in the world who cares to look at them, I ask: How simple, how gentle, how little do those lines demand or expect. How much innocence and beauty and goodwill to the world we live in is contained in those innocuous lines. And yet, how much of it can be practised. Most importantly, how much did I practise. Honestly, a lot. But was it worth it; once again: Honestly, no. It has eroded me, left me vastly frightened and abraded, so much so that even a touch intended to soothe hurts. But despite that, I would like it to remain part of me, both its sound and intent, till my last breath.
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