পারস্য-যাত্রী/পরিশিষ্ট/ভাষণ ও প্রতিভাষণ: মূল ইংরেজিতে
ইরান ও ইরাক-ভ্রমণকালে
ভাষণ ও প্রতিভাষণ
মূল ইংরেজিতে
১৭ এপ্রিল ১৯৩২। সিরাজের চেম্বার অব কমার্সে
সদস্যবৃন্দের অভ্যর্থনার উত্তর
The springtime is hospitable. Her birds in their music, her flowers in their fragrance speak a language which is universal needing no translation to explain them. They make no discrimination in favour of their own land of origin, and their call of beauty which is God’s own voice of love comes direct to my heart even though I am a traveller from a far away shore.
The poet also represents the eternal springtime of hospitality. His message is in his music which invokes the harmony of perfection for all humanity, his invitation is to the comradeship in a festival of love’s union.
Persia’s introduction came to me when I was a boy. It was that of the ideal Persia, the Persia of the poet, the Persia which sends her welcome in songs to strangers across all barriers of geography.
My father was a great scholar. He was intoxicated with Hafiz’ verses. When I was boy I often used to listen to his recitation of those poems, and he translated them to me with a fervour of enjoyment that touched my heart.
The vision of Persia was invoked in my imagination by the voice of your own poets, who brought to my mind’s sky the breath of your spring breeze with the enchantment of its blossoming roses and nightingales’ songs. My arrival in your land today is therefore a continuation of the same enchantment and I am glad to mingle my voice with the rejoicing of life which has broken out in the air of your beautiful country fragrant with the perfume of orange blossoms.
It brings to my mind once again how my father to the end of his days derived deep consolation from your poets’ songs assimilating them in his devotional life.
It is fortunate for me that I am able to come to lay my thankful thoughts to the shrines of your great poets. I wish it could have been done on this auspicious occasion in a poet’s own manner. But unfortunately I feel like a specimen bird in a museum showcase where the rigid wings are unable to display their dance of a colourful life. My voice is muffled in an alien language, which cannot rhythmically respond to my muse. And therefore the true token of my reverent gratitude I offer in unuttered words to the undying memory of your poets and my salutation to the immortal spirit of Persia in which were cradled and in which still live the spirits of those singers.
১৯ এপ্রিল ১৯৩২
সিরাজ-প্রবাসী ভারতীয়দের সংবর্ধনার উত্তর
আর্মেনীয়দের প্রতি ভাষণ
Friends,
I thank you from the depths of my heart for your warm welcome. I feel that you are one with me in fellowship and share with me the belief that humanity is one, that differences of race and religion cannot stand in the way of our common pursuit of truth and love.
Friends, I have come here to this great land with that faith in man which is sorely needed in this strife-ridden tired world of today. Risking the strain of a difficult journey, in my old age, I have come here to seek new confirmation of my faith in the linked destiny of man. And I am thrilled by what I have seen and felt in this country which under a great monarch, one of the greatest men of this age, has already achieved. Iran today has not only proved the majesty of its own soul but shed the lustre of its glory far and wide inspiring humanity with a new vision of fulfilment. Asia is awake today, she is once more now to offer her spiritual gift to the world, the message of brotherhood, of freedom, of federation in the task of establishing peace and goodwill.
I know that you of the Armenian community too now share the era of freedom and well-being which is in this land and that you feel an urge to contribute to this country the fruits of your own unique culture. Your community has its own particular genius for civilisation with which you must enrich the country where you have gained freedom, hospitality and fellowship. Together with your friends, the people of this country of which you form a part, you must joyously set to work in leading this country onward towards perfection. This great land has won my heart as it surely has won yours, and it is a happy occasion for me to share with you the inspiration of creative enthusiasm which fills the atmosphere of this country today.২৭ এপ্রিল ১৯৩২
ইস্ফাহান মিউনিসিপ্যালিটির অভিনন্দনের উত্তর
First of all let me express my gratitude for the hearty welcome you have accorded to me and then let me go on and offer you an explanation which I owe to you.
The question may naturally come to your mind as to the object of my visit to your country. I take this opportunity to let you know my secret.
There was a time in olden days when the Emperors of Nations used to invite poets and wise men from other lands. Now that custom is no longer there. The modern statesman at the head of the political machinery has very little concern for culture. His connection with other countries is mostly guided by diplomacy upon which human considerations dare not infringe.
I have had my invitation as a poet and a thinker from different people of Europe and of the Orient. But I could never imagine that such invitation would come to me from those who are at the helm of administration, the kings and rulers of nations. Yet unusual though it is, this rare privilege has come to me. It was a day of great surprise and joy for me when I heard from my friend Dinshaw that an invitation was coming to me from His Imperial Majesty, Reza Sha Pahlevi, King of Persia.
This is in keeping with the tradition of the East when the Emperors represented the humanity of their nation and accepted their duty to establish communication with foreign lands. The revival of this spirit in modern Iran has given me a new hope for Asia, and you can well understand that I accepted with delight the gracious invitation from your monarch.
We, poets, thrive upon the sympathy and approbation of our fellow beings. Let me confess to you that I have no hankering for honour. I consider honour to be fit for the dead, who have done their work and earned their grand memorial stones. Our homage is to their eternal spirit which beckons to us afar. But love is for the living—who need warm fellowship which inspires them to progressive efforts and worthy achievements. My work is to arouse your joy in things of beauty, and I claim your love through which my voice may reach your heart.
We speak with the multitude as one of them, not from the formal aloofness of a preacher or teacher who affords you moral guidance. The altitude of a public platform is not for us poets. I wish I could sit in your midst and open the doors of your heart by the magic of rhythmic utterances. And then I could gather my dues from you in words of love if I have been successful in moving your hearts with my music. We poets manifest through our songs the simple and perennial truths of this life and your confirmation reaches us when you share them with us and are glad.
India’s poet has come to Iran with this burden of a joyous song. I sing to the new humanity, today, of the dawn which has appeared in the horizon, and touched the Orient with a golden promise. Through your great King a glorious renewal of your country’s life has begun. There is in the atmosphere the stir of joyous activity. I see in your faces the hopes of a magnanimous future. I welcome this renascence in Iran, and I carry in my heart the conviction that it will spread all over Asia. Humanity, in the West and the East, suffers acutely from a pessimism born of spiritual apathy. We must break through it and offer once again to the whole world the message of the East, the message of freedom and love which comprehends the welfare of all races and peoples.
Before I leave let me offer to you the love of a wayfaring poet, my grateful appreciation of the delightful days spent in your midst in this city of great beauty. My heart is laden with the memory of your warm friendliness which has made my stay here so happy and fruitful and brought me so near to your heart.৫ মে ১৯৩২
তেহেরানে জনসভায় কবির উত্তরের শেষাংশ
The different races of Asia will no doubt have to solve their own national problems alone according to their own temperament and needs, but the torches held up on their path of progress will send their beckoning lights to each other thus creating a comradeship of culture, a brotherhood of pathseekers. We remain obscure like dark stars when we are inarticulate. When our national genius is active in trimming its lamps and lighting up its surroundings, the illumination it produces spreads a bond of minds far and wide, proving that man is one in spirit.
Before I conclude let me tell you what has been the strongest attraction that has brought me to your country not heeding my physical infirmity and the risks of a difficult journey. In the East we bend our heads before all that is humanly great and not merely what is mechanically perfect. We hail him as great who conquers circumstances because he has conquered himself. In other words we are worshippers of personality. Even in my own corner of India I seemed to have felt the glamour of the greatness of the present ruler of Persia revealing to my mind a vision of a new morning at the verge of a distant skyline. We were sure that a masterful man, a builder of the destiny of a nation has at last appeared in our neighbourhood.
৯ মে ১৯৩২
তেহেরান লিটারারি সোসাইটিতে অভিভাষণ
Friends,
I thank you for this invitation from the literary club of Teheran. It is natural that I the poet from India should find my place in your midst. Let me hope that you do not expect a regular speech from me, formal and decorous, that you agree with me that it is as absurd to make a poet deliver speeches as to use a flute for a fishing rod or a fencing stick. I am reminded of a similar occasion in China, when the literary people of Pekin invited me to a picturesque garden on the hill and after lunch was over asked me to tell them about my ideas on art and literature. I spoke simply sitting in their midst, I was not condemned to be banished to a high platform aloof from my listeners. My place is with you, and not above you, so that I wish today also I could sit with you on the same level in this beautiful garden, and tell you what is in my heart.
It is not at all easy to define fundamental facts of existence such as art is. It is as indefinable as life itself. We only know that the spirit of life that manifests itself in a rose gives a definitely concrete form and character to an impulse which is indefinite and abstract. It has no other ulterior purpose than to fashion a unique form from elements that are amorphous like those of carbon, nitrogen, hydrogen and others having no resemblance whatever to their final result. But this form of a rose is not important in itself, the form which is a limited fact that can be measured and analysed. It is a mysterious dynamic quality imported to it that helps to make the rose transcend all its immediate facts. In this it is not only a thing but it is a thing which has its significance of beauty inexplicable and measureless. A value has been given to it and not merely a substance. This value, this ineffable quality of delightfulness is maintained by a perpetual rhythm which creates a synchronous rhythm in our own consciousness.
The meaning of art is like that of life itself. Its inner impulse offers its ultimate explanation only in its outer manifestations. That they have come into being like a rose, like a star and have compelled our recognition of them as an inevitable expression of reality is enough. Like life art has its expressions that are dynamic, they constantly give an impetus to our minds and create ripples of various patterns in them which we call emotions. These are artistic emotions, being pure and having no consequence in life beyond their activities in our imagination. Art like life revels in a rhythmic play of appearances for its own sake.
Before I had come to you, possibly some of you had heard of me, read my writings and admired them. In fact, you had already been acquainted with that aspect of mine which was most significant. Yet when you heard that I was coming to your country an expectation must have been aroused in you which gave you an eagerness of delight. But what is the reason? It must be this that a knowledge about myself was not enough but an image of me was needed for your complete satisfaction. By that nothing could be added in your mind to all the important factors about myself; only the several ideas about a poet of my name that you already had possessed are going to be focussed in a centre and formed into a definite image of reality. This image is not absolutely similar in all your minds and its emotional reactions are also varied according to your temperaments. But its unique definiteness gives satisfaction to your faculty of imagination which seeks to realise its visions in completeness. After the sight of me the picture that is impressed in your mind is an inner work of art, it is a mental image that has a living character.
But of what use is this image of a poet to you? If I were an engineer or a politician you could fix in your memory my figure with an association of some immediate usefulness such as building of bridges or carrying on diplomatic missions. But the image of a poet can have no appeal of utility in your mind.
In fact, all true images that are vivid give us a disinterested satisfaction even if their biographical associations have no importance. The sense of reality which is pure because detached from facts that either compel our recognition for urgent purposes of life or are overlooked because of their apparent insignificance, is delightful. In our storehouse of imagination we have such innumerable images of all that have been significant to us for their own sake, that have added wealth to our consciousness, making our life richer for us, even when they are mingled with the memory of sorrows and sufferings. In fact, these are the materials out of which our life is truly built up—the life of ideal reality. The images which have found their permanence in our minds through the selective process of life, in other words which are most real for us give us our individuality of character. Human art is also busy creating images of ideal reality; our history reveals its character by producing these images and making its choice from them for its treasure of undying worth.
This world is a world of images. The clouds, the skies, the mountains and rivers are part of a common being to which we belong. The trees stand silently around giving us the delight of an intimate companionship, we enjoy the pageantry of leaves and flowers and fruits, the colours and forms in which they abound. We enjoy them because they are not vague, they are real and delightful to us. Because they have some quality of harmony which we call beauty, which makes their reality impressively inevitable and immediate to our minds. We take joy in the springtime blossoming of new life not for any virtue which we know as usefulness but simply because through a fulness of reality it rouses response of reality within us. It delights us by the sheer fact of its existence which is co-extensive with ours.
I had some knowledge of Persia even before my coming. I had read something of your history and geography, and formed some idea of your people and your country. My imagination was aroused through your great poets whose call had come to me even though I had no direct access to them. I used to dream of a Persia where bulbuls made love to the roses, where in dreamland gardens poets sat round their wine cups and invoked visions of ineffable meaning. But now that I have come to your country my dream has been formed into a concrete image finding its permanent place in the inner chamber of my experience. It is a definite gain added to the store of all my things of beauty that are joy for ever. I have visited Saadi’s tomb; I have sat beside the resting place of Hafiz and intimately felt his touch in the glimmering green of your woodlands, in blossoming roses. The morning sun coming through the iron lattice work wrote its shadow scripts over his tomb; it was the same sun that lighted up the face of his beloved centuries ago. It fell upon my forehead with the memory of an eternal love episode in which we all seemed to have taken part. The past age of Persia lent the old world perfume of its own sunny hours of spring to the morning of that day and the silent voice of your ancient poet filled the silence in the heart of the poet of Modern India. Altogether it was an image which waited for its perfection in my mind since the faroff days when I was a boy and listened from my father to the cadenced music of your great poet.
Every individual has something of a poet within his heart seeking fulfilment through experiences which give a sense of ultimate reality. Man is glad because the sky is blue, because water flows and flowers blossom; not because they are useful and profitable like cheque books and motor cars, but because they are what they are. Our gift of imagination is satisfied through them, they are real to us though we cannot explain them.
God as poet inspires us—the poet within our hearts. In his sunrises and sunsets, green grass and living water he speaks to us as a comrade seeking our response in joy. And I am sure he is glad as a mortal poet is when we enjoy his creations. His great work is to delight our heart, not to convince us of the usefulness of things.
I have always felt that when I do useful work for my fellow beings God praises me, but when I sing to them I win his love. The world of utility we must recognize, its laws we must understand. If we fail to do so we shall be punished. But the world of beauty waits and waits; and even if we pass them heedlessly by the roses will smile, and be beautiful, and wait silently for our auspicious recognition. We are not punished if we callously ignore the ceaseless service of love which is in this universe. Therefore when we enter the heart of existence through love, the Master Poet is happy. He has given us freedom to be apathetic, to accept his creations or to reject them. When the great moment arrives, when our sensitive mind is moved by the fulness of reality, the music which flows from his infinite love reaches us, and our deepest purpose of being is fulfilled.
And then we also come out with our gifts of love, with our creations of beauty which we offer to him for his delight. When I saw your great ruins, Persepolis, your great architecture in Isfahan, your paintings and frescoes I felt that this was the homage of humanity to the Great Poet; the answer of man to God’s call of love.
Poets and artists seem to bring their greatest gifts, and ask: “Art thou satisfied, my Master? Thou hast made us partners in thy joy, pouring thy gifts of love upon us; now we have come to offer thee our best from the depths of our own love for thee.”
And the answer comes from Him to us, from our Master who is also our Friend: “I have used my power for millions of years in fixing the foundation of this world, burned it in fire, hammered it with earthquakes. After ages of toil came the first flower, the birds sang, life appeared on earth—then was my dream fulfilled. And yet I waited. My joy sought the confirmation of your delight, the answering creations of your love.”
His world of beauty surrounds us, our life is his gift of love. The play of love begins—lila as we call it in India—now is to be the union of our human civilization of beauty with God’s own world of creation, and be blessed.
My friends, let us not bring discord into this beautiful world, something which is perverse and disharmonious with creation. Roses and nightingales, sunshine and green foliage, they are tuning up the harp of creation—let us join with them. Let us not be greedy, ugly and destructive, ruled by passions which belie our nature. It has gone on too long, this desecration of our sacred world, which bears the touch of God’s own hand. Do you not see how man is creating suffering, tightening the bonds of slavery on weaker nations, exploiting hospitality and kindness for cruel diplomacy? Do these harmonise with starlight, and wide fields, the call of eternity which comes from far horizons? Our deeds are an insult and untold injury to the world fashioned by our Master, and we have to bow our heads in shame for what man has done to man.
God wishes man to manifest his greatness. Science has entered nature’s store-house and is successfully utilising the wealth of its resources. For that we have to be proud. But what have we done to the world of beauty? Have we been equally successful in exploring its inner significance and making accessible to all its endless wealth of delight, fertilising the toil-hardened desert of destitution? No, on the contrary—the more we add to our machines, and our mechanisms of utility, the more we are being alienated from the eternal world of truth and beauty. We lose our heads over our mechanical achievement, we miss our right to be happy. We have learnt to tyrannize and destroy. We have failed to win our freedom by surrendering to love.
This, my friends, is all I have to say to you, I who belong to the brotherhood of a useless tribe called poets. You must use your wisdom in mastering mechanical power, there you have a great field of work. But let me remind you of your responsibility in the human world of love. I claim no right to advise you, to speak from a higher platform, but I claim a corner in your hidden heart where I can talk to you as a friend. If I am fortunate you will receive me there and recognise me as one who seeks to fulfil God’s own dream of love.
২৩ মে ১৯৩২
বোগদাদে ডেনিশ সাংবাদিকের সহিত আলোচনার
রবীন্দ্রনাথের বক্তব্য
Persia has been a great inspiration to me. The whole country under the powerful statesmanship of her great King Reza Shah Pahlavi is marching on ahead very fast. Persia is being unified; her baffling customs and superstitions ruthlessly eliminated; her educational and social foundations are being securely established on a sane healthy nationalism which is in harmony with the modern age. As an Indian it gave me great pleasure to see with my own eyes what a people can achieve under the stress of freedom, how the enthusiasm of nation-building can radically change conditions which are the result of age-long accumulated inertia and dependence on others.
The problem in India is more complicated but what I say to our Government is that they should leave us alone to our destiny and let us solve our own problems in the light of experiment and efforts and necessary suffering. We need the wisdom born of experience and initiative, and must face reality in our own way so that we may exploit the full potentialities of our people.
When others talk of our communal conflicts, linguistic differences and various social disharmonies they conveniently forget that Europe also, even a short time ago, was in no better plight and yet she did not unmanfully accept her limitations as inevitable; she has struggled through her dark periods at immense sufferings and sacrifices which have been worthily rewarded by access to a people’s eternal right to self-rule. Spanish Inquisitions, witch-burning, Catholic and Protestant warfares, anti-scientific campaigns and fanaticism—you can go on adding to such unenviable activities of Europe till you come to the Great War when science and modernism only helped to intensify the savagery of fratricidal combat.
Let the people of Asia profit by the lessons which their brothers in the West have to teach us. Truth and freedom are for all, and we shall be proud to accept the gifts of modern Western Science adapting them to the needs of our national genius, our special traditions and circumstances. India is on her path to self-realisation; she cannot afford to waste her priceless spiritual and intellectual resources in enforced emulation of ready-made ideals from outside; she must evolve her own civilization unhampered by her dead past or her modern political servitude. My visit to Persia has given me faith in the power of the Eastern peoples to assert themselves and quickly find their way to a united manifestation of their undying heritage in spite of conflict and difficult economic circumstances.
২৫ মে ১৯৩২
বোগদাদে ইরাক-সম্রাট-কর্তৃক সংবর্ধনা
কবির উত্তর
I heartily thank your Majesty for the kind invitation to your kingdom and the hospitality graciously offered to me tonight.
Not being a man of any political importance, not having any significant place in the confederacy of nations that are swaying the material destiny of the present-day world I might have considered such an honour as ill-fitted to a person like myself. But I am certain that it is meant for the cause I espouse and the vocation that I claim to be mine own. And therefore I must never shrink from it in false modesty but congratulate one of the modern rulers of men and shapers of history for the recognition he has offered to a member of the fellowship of poets whose mission it is to light lamps along the unending path of human culture. I cannot help rejoicing at the fact that in spite of an insistent preoccupation of utilitarian urgency of this machine-driven age a man of letters finds his welcome in this distracted world for any service he may have rendered to humanity in her all but repressed desire for spiritual self-realisation.
In ancient Asia the men whose function was to make human mind fertile with living wealth of beauty and noble aspiration received their highest rewards from the monarchs not merely in a spirit of patronage but that of a high responsibility and cultured appreciation. I am sure that this individual fact of a poet belonging to a distant corner of the earth and speaking a different language finding his seat of welcome at your Majesty’s table this evening is not a mere accident but has a deeper historical significance. It is a generous gesture of the national self-respect of a renascent Asia, its expression of the intellectual hospitality to all manifestations that transcend temporal standard and indicate our path to inner perfection. Human civilization has crossed the boundaries of racial and national segregation. We are today to build the future of man on an honest understanding of our varied racial personality which gives richness to life, on tolerance and sympathy and cooperation in the great task of liberating the human mind from the dark forces of unreason and mutual distrust of homicidal pride of sect and lust of gain. I pray that Iraq may realise this great responsibility of a coming civilization.
Iraq, the land where great historical ages have mingled their glories, lying in the central zone of traffic between West and East may rightly hope to become one of the living links of a coming federation of the peoples of the world. With her vision of far-away beckoning horizons, her glittering atmosphere and the vast voice of her sky, her twin great rivers flowing down through shining centuries of splendour, let her win her right to a boundless freedom in a world of greatness and proclaim under her high-vaulted heavens the majesty of the spirit of man which is the sacred shrine of the spirit of God.
At the conclusion let me read the verse which I have specially written for the occasion and which may be translated thus—
The night has ended.
Put out the light of the lamp
of thine own narrow dark corner
smudged with smoke,
the great Morning which is for all
appears in the East.
Let its light reveal us to each other
who walk on the same path
of pilgrimage.
অবসান হল রাতি।
নিবাইয়া ফেলো কালিমামলিন
ঘরের কোণের বাতি
নিখিলের আলো পূর্ব আকাশে
জ্বলিল পুণ্যদিনে।
এক পথে যারা চলিবে তাহারা
সকলেরে নিক চিনে।
ইরাকে অন্য-এক সংবর্ধনার উত্তরে
Let me offer my heartiest thanks to His Majesty King Faisal who has graciously invited me to his kingdom enabling me personally to come in touch with the great and ancient civilisation of Iraq.
It is a real inspiration to me to be present here at this moment when this old nation is being born anew and the ferment of creative life is shaping its culture towards a glorious fulfilment of freedom rich in the mystery of self-expression. I feel herein the atmosphere of stimulus of youth which stirs the continent of Asia today with the urge of a new age of achievement.
Unfortunately, as you know, my age and health make it difficult for me to cross the barriers of distance and my habits of a sequestered life; and, therefore, it is physically impossible for me to fulfil your expectations, to do much in return of your welcome which is so overwhelming in its kindness.
I am told that this invitation today has been extended to me chiefly on behalf of the literary circles of Baghdad. It is in the fitness of things that the first public reception should be given me by the Community of Writers to which I am proud to belong. It fills my heart with delight to know that I am already familiar to you through my works, some of which have been translated into your language, and have won their home in your hearts. This proves, once more, that in the realm of literature there is no distinction of races, that our ideas can freely meet and mingle and build together the vision of a perfection which comprehends the good of the Eternal Man.
Human history has been cruel to man. The greed of the strong has spread its meshes over the weaker races, injuring and exploiting them to feed its own unholy appetite. Humanity is torn by suffering and suspicion. by a disharmony which has wrought havoc in the very depths of our life on earth. It is for us, of the Brotherhood of Letters, to rescue humanity from this misery of unnatural relationship, to lift the peoples of different countries to a higher altitude of being. To whichever land we may belong, this must be our common mission on this plane of united effort, to achieve goodwill between man and man, establish a secure foundation of fellowship which will save humanity from suicidal war and the savagery. of fanatical superstitions.
We must usher in the age of reason, of cooperation, of a generous reciprocity of cultures which will reveal the richness of our common humanity.
With this fervent desire in my heart, my friends, I have come to your midst. Let me unburden my heart of this secret which has been at the bottom of my present visit to your country.
I have come to appeal to you, my brothers, to join hands with us in fighting the menace of mutual suspicion, of diplomatic double-dealing which tears out the heart of the civic life of humanity today. In the most glorious period of your history, Arabia dominated over half the world, East and West, and even now her sway over India is living in our spiritual and intellectual life through the vast population of Mahomedans we have in our midst. Let your voice reach us once again across the Arabian Sea carrying its majesty of a universal ideal; send us once more your men of faith who will bring together our different communities under the banner of fellowship, of love which admits no difference of race or religion.
In the name of all that is sacred and eternal in Man, in the name of your great Prophet and for the sake of the reputation of your great Religion, I appeal to you to advocate the cause of human fellowship, the tolerance of different creeds and customs and sympathetic neighbourliness necessary for civilised life of cooperation. Our religions have assumed a fratricidal ferocity of barbarism rending the heart of India, poisoning her racial memory and thwarting her progress towards freedom. Let your poets and thinkers, whose words soar above all prejudices and passions bred of dark unreason, help us to bring my unfortunate country to a sober state of life, to sane mentality that knows how to pursue its own path of welfare and save itself from an utter moral devastation. Let me remind you, my brothers, that a mere success in fulfilling the political and economic needs of one’s own immediate surroundings is not enough for the responsibility of national self-expression; but your voice must transcend the limits of your own time and country so that your judgment for the moral cause of humanity must find a great utterance when the occasion comes, as has become urgent today in India, where your co-worshippers at the shrine of God are waiting for your guidance.
বাংলারূপ দ্রষ্টব্য: পৃ ১২৭-১২৯