TWO BIRDS A small bird crimson-hued Among great realms of green Fed on their multitudinous fruit— But in his dark eye flamed more keen A hunger as from joy to joy He moved the poignance of his beak, And ever in his heart he wailed, "Where hangs the marvellous fruit I seek?" Then suddenly above his head A searching gaze of grief he turned: Lo, there upon the topmost bough A pride of golden plumage burned! Lost in a dream no hunger broke, This calm bird—aureoled, immense— Sat motionless: all fruit he found Within his own magnificence. The watchful ravener below Felt his time-tortured passion ceas

THE SANNYASI (An old story relates how a princess over-proud of her beauty would not accept any lover unless he could first live like a Sannyasi in the Himalayas, practising austerities to purify himself in order to win her favour as of a divinity. One youth, famous for his handsomeness as well as heroic deeds, took up the difficult wager and at the end of the stipulated three years returned to the eagerly waiting princess, but he came now no longer in the mood of a suitor....) If every look I turn tramples your flesh Forgive the pilgrim passion of a dream That presses over the narrow path of limbs To an azure height beaconing above the mind.

ORISON A godless temple is the dome of space: Reveal the sun of thy love-splendoured face, O lustrous flowering of invisible peace, 3 O glory breaking into curves of clay 4 From mute intangible dream-distances, 5 That like a wondrous yet familiar light Eternity may mingle with our day! Leave thou no quiver of this time-born heart A poor and visionless wanderer apart: Make even my darkness a divine repose 10 One with thy nameless root, O mystic rose— 11 The slumbering seasons of my mortal sight 12 A portion of the unknowable vast behind 13 Thy gold apocalypse of shadowless mind! 14 Sri Aur

-002_Publishers^Note.htm PUBLISHERS' NOTE The Publishers acknowledge their indebtedness to the Editors of The Bombay Chronicle Weekly, The All India Weekly and The Advent in whose pages the essays included in this volume have already appeared—mostly .in a shorter form.

ART-PRINCIPLES FOR INDIA The Marxist Attitude in the Balance There was recently a burst of tanks and bombers in newspaper columns against an art-critic who ventured to challenge Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru's pronouncement some months ago on the essence and aim of art. and aim of art. I do not deny that the said artcritic's statement was lacking in clearness and completeness. Bur was he absolutely off the right line? Was the core of his contention really open to fatal attack? To understand that core we must look clearly at Nehru's own thought. Nehru seems to have had five principles in mind. First, art should not be cut off from life. Second, it

WAS THIS THE ENLIGHTENED ONE? Modern Misconceptions about Buddha The other day I came across an article on Buddha by an Indian writer. I took it up with keen interest, wondering how it would expound Buddha's Nirvana in lucid journalese. It made a good story, but to my disappointment I found that the author got over the Gordian knot of Nirvana by pretending there was no knot at all. To be a countryman of the great Gautama and yet to quote H.G.Wells on Buddhism—this was beyond belief. How could H.G.Wells probe into the soul of a man who would have regarded the seer of the outer shape of things-to-come as totally ignorant of the inner shape o

CAN INDIANS WRITE ENGLISH POETRY? The Indian Mind and the English Language W. B. YEATS is said to have " pooh-poohed" the idea that an Indian could write English poetry of a high order. It is indeed true that the subtle inwardness one feels towards one's mother-tongue is likely to be missing .when an Indian attempts to express himself in English. But is it impossible to have it? And is it advisable always for us to fall back upon our vernaculars and leave English to Irishmen like Yeats? Reading most of the verse turned out by English-speaking Indians we are almost persuaded that we shall never succeed in reaching a high standard. But h

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF JAWAHARLAL NEHRU A Vision of his "Actual" and his "Potential" PANDIT Jawaharlal Nehru rode on horseback to meet the Cabinet Mission. He had gone in the same way to confer with Lord Wavell a year or so earlier. Gandhi came in a rickshaw; so too did Maulana Abu! Kalam Azad. But Nehru was astride a dappled horse. When I saw him thus in the Indian News Parade I was struck with the significance of the act. Here was something princely—an old-world nobility made its appearance. Here also was something warriorlike—an adventurous spirit fared forth. Here, again, was something romantic—a dreamer rose above humdrumne

THE WORLD-LEADER OF TOMORROW Sri Aurobindo through a Biographer's Eyes "ETERNITY !·how learnt I that strange word?" asks Laurence Binyon in a poem. The question might more appropriately have been put by a young Bengali to himself during his student days in England with his two elder brothers, one of whom was an intimate friend of Laurence Binyon. For this young Bengali was caught in puzzling psychological cross-currents. Educated in England from early boyhood, he was as completely Westernised as any Indian could be-Westernised not only in the sense that the whole world of European culture, ancient, me diaevaland modern, became part of him; b

THE INSPIRATION OF SAROJINI NAIDU A Defence against Colour-blind and Tone-deaf "Debunkers" "Debunking" is the favourite sport of our time —often a healthy necessary sport; but futile and thankless is the attempt to "debunk" skylarks and nightingales and Sarojini Naidu! Critics have begun to find her work void of true emotion; they see no real creative drive in it. Mere colour, vague imagery, tinsel sentiment—these sum her up in their view. The sole compliment they pay her is that she has an attractive command over language and a consummate skill in poetic form. That is, her technique is impressive but the inspiration is no more than fa