The Oxford English dictionary defines ‘Guru’ as a “Hindu spiritual teacher. Also, each of the ten first leaders of the Sikh religion. The word comes from Sanskrit meaning ‘weighty’, ‘grave’, hence ‘elder, teacher’’. It must be the third sentence of this definition that must have irked Rabindranath Tagore.

To be ‘weighty, grave’, ‘elder’ and ‘teacher’ were signifiers that were antithetical to the spontaneous sparkle of his empathetic temperament. The Guru on a pedestal was anathema to Tagore; lifelong he had tried to reach out to all and sundry through the stream of his writings in multiple genres, poems, songs, fiction, plays, essays among others.

Advertisement

So Tagore was neither being unduly modest not deceptive when he stated in a letter written in 1931, “The position of a Guru, is not mine, not mine…” Also in the widely celebrated long essay Religion Of Man Tagore wrote, “I am neither a scholar nor a philosopher”. Recently when Rabindranath Tagore’s Santiniketan ~ the heritage abode of peace ~ was going through unprecedented anarchy, all Tagore aficionados were not just shocked but felt gored and scarred. However, human civilization has repeatedly proved that truth temporarily defeated is greater than evil triumphant.

As an Old English poem stated reassuringly ~‘that passed away so may this’. Though the exit of the former Vice Chancellor did not take place at lightening speed, the exit is now a reality and it is now time to repair and rebuild all the tangibles and intangibles that had been fractured and destroyed during the stormy session of bizarre unreason. During this period of turmoil, the poet’s contribution in setting up Visva Bharati University as its founder, administrator, financier seemed to be a matter of inconsequence.

Tagore was both the chancellor and vice chancellor of his beloved Visva Bharati, though he was never known to have used such designations. Though widely addressed as Gurudev both in Bengal and elsewhere, Tagore was always sceptical about being regarded as gurudev, an appellation that could be synonymous with teacher, professor, Principal, Director or Chancellor.

In his outstanding short narrative Tota Kahini (The Parrot’s Tale) Tagore unequivocally underscored that the pedagogue’s dense and abstract discourse had the potential of killing the intellectual curiosity in young impressionable minds. He had emphatically stated that he had always run away from rote learning and cut and dried pedagogy and therefore addressing him as Gurudev seemed to him both absurd and inappropriate in terms of the image he endeavoured to create for himself. In fact, Gurus implying pompous pedagogues have been the butt of ridicule in many of his writings.

In a letter addressed to Ajit Kumar Chakravorty, published in Pravasi 1931, Tagore had categorically rejected the adulations showered on him as a prophet, sage and spiritual mystic. He emphasized in no uncertain terms that he was a poet and it was as a poet that he wished to be assessed. Tagore wrote in his letter, “The upward limit to a poet’s claim can be in embraces ~ pranam (worshipful adulation) however ostracizes the poet; I have no doubts that I am nothing but a poet.

I want to be there in your heart’s domain… do not install me in the wrong seat… I am a friend of all of you, I’ll give some, I’ll take some too…The position of a Guru, is not mine, not mine, not mine. I haven’t learnt anything, nor can I teach others”. Poet and scholar Sankha Ghosh cited several such assertions by Tagore in his Letters (Chithi Patra) where the poet stated categorically, “I am not a guru, I am a poet” (23 April 1926). In a more explanatory mode the poet wrote in a letter on 17 April 1926, “I am neither a guru nor a political leader ~ I am a poet, I create in various modes and rhythms ~ these are my creative toys, this is my job.

If people derive pleasure from these creations, I feel fulfilled. That’s my dharma, my commitment, and I take total responsibility about maintaining my dharma. Those who have expected political wisdom and labour related skills from me, they have made a mistake, yet in their disappointment they have accused me of betrayal of trust.” In three other letters cited by Sankha Ghosh the poet reiterates the same desire to distance himself from the expectation that he should play the role of Gurudev.

In a humorous tone Tagore writes on 30 April 1931, “I have always kept a wide distance from gurus, escaping from institutions is my habit ~ ultimately I myself will posture as a guru moshai, there cannot be anything more ridiculous.” On 17 November 1932, the poet wrote, “I am certain that the designation of guru is not for me. I can feel, I can express that is my swadharma, my commitment to my selfhood.

I have spoken in your letter and it has seemed like an instruction. Expressing is part of my nature, but preaching is not.”( ibid 156). Earlier, in 1921 in several letters Tagore had struggled with his aversion to being described as a mystic sage, a guru. So in a letter written on 24 February 1921, he remarked, “Why should I be anything else but a poet? Was I not born a music-maker?” There is a sense of despair in the letter written two days later on 26 February 1921: “Pushing the wheelbarrows of propaganda from continent to continent ~ is this going to be the climax of a poet’s life? It seems to me like an evil dream from which I occasionally wake up in the dead of night…”.

In a more analytical mode, almost identifying a split-image of himself, Tagore writes in a letter dated 7 July 1921, “In this modern age of the philosophy of relativity I suppose I cannot claim for myself the quality of absolute poetdom. It is evident that the poet in me changes its features and spontaneously assumes the character of the preacher with the change of its position.” Tagore’s emphatic desire to distance himself from the elevated position of a spiritual messiah when particularly the West looked upon him as an inspirational guru is indeed significant. In fact, even the rest of India other than Bengal regarded him as a cultural prophet. That gained further encouragement from his being hailed as Gurudev by both Gandhi and Nehru, the two icons of political activism in colonial India. His sartorial choice of a free flowing robe also contributed to the image of a religious preacher.

This was often compared to the sartorial style of a Rabbi that perhaps in a way did not make him seem very alienated and ethnic to Western eyes. In fact, on many occasions he had been compared to a Christ-figure, understandably much older but having a similar physical image. Essentially however, Tagore was a poet-philosopher, a litterateur and songster, in other words he had the disposition of the artist, for whom fixity of location and fixed ideas could only lead to a feeling of being entrapped and suffocated.

It is his effusive bohemian spirit not unlike the bauls of rural Bengal, the wandering minstrels who played and performed with words and music, that exuded a homegrown philosophy of love, patience and tolerance towards the world and all its creatures. It is an undeniable fact that Tagore primarily desired to remain a poet in the hearts and memories of the people. This has been reiterated by him on many occasions. In an interesting if not ironic episode, on 19 March 1923, Tagore was given a huge reception in Karachi where the assembled crowds cheered him chanting, “Mahatma Gandhi ki Jai”.

Hailing Mahatma Gandhi as Tagore’s inspiration or mistaking him to be Gandhi himself or his alter ego may not have pleased the sensitive poet, according to Tagore’s biographer Prasantakumar Paul. Tagore delivered a very long speech in that function wherein he pointedly stressed that he was a poet and wanted to reach out to the people as a friend.

He said. “As a poet I claim comradeship. I feel this is not my seat. I wish to be on the same level with you. When you ask me to come before you, you should share with me and do not banish me to a higher platform. I have come to you as your comrade. I wish I could sing to you in the language of your own or that which is my own. This is the barrier between you and me and it hurts me”. However, it was the inimitable Nirad C Chaudhuri who in his chapter on Tagore, included in his book Thy Hand, Great Anarch!, summed up to a certain extent the difference between Tagore as a cult figure worshipped in blind faith as a Gurudev and a ‘hagiographical legend in Bengal”, instead of focusing on a complete, critical assessment of Tagore’s contribution to literature and culture and as a thinker and public intellectual.

(The writer is Professor and former Dean, Faculty of Arts, Calcutta University)