About Rabindranath Tagore's Childhood, Boyhood, Youngage, Family all Saying by Rabindranath Tagore

Rabindranath Tagore Says about Himself :
My childhood 

I remember my childhood when the sunrise, like my playfellow, would burst into my bedside with its daily surprise of morning; when the faith in the marvelous bloomed like fresh flowers in my heart everyday, looking into the face of the world in simple gladness.
I remember my childhood. How humble was the mode of life in those days and how simple its paraphernalia compared with modern ways, but there was not the least feeling of embarrassment in our minds on this account; for at that time there was no sharp difference in the standard of life, it was roughly the same in every household. 


I still remember the first magic touch of literature which I experienced when I was a child and was made to struggle across my lessons in a first primer strewn with isolated words smothered under the burden of spelling. Suddenly I came to  a sentence of  combined words which may be translated thus – It rains, the leaves tremble. At once I came to a world in which I recovered my full meaning.

My boyhood days 

I got up while it was still dark and practiced wrestling – on cold days I shivered and trembled with cold In the city was a celebrated on eyed wrestler, who gave me practice. The ground had been prepared by digging and loosening the earth to a depth to about a cubit and pouring over it a maund of mustard oil. It was mere child’s play for the wrestler to try a fall with me there, but I would manage to get well smeared with dust by the end of the lesson, when I put on my shirt and went indoors. Mother did not like to see me come every morning so covered with dust –she feared that the color of her son’s skin would be darkened and spoiled. As a result, she occupied herself on holidays scrubbing me. When I came in from the wrestling ground I saw a Medical College student waiting to teach me the lore of bones. A whole skeleton hung on the wall of our bedroom, and the bones swayed in the wind and rattled together. But the fear might otherwise have felt had been overcome by constantly handling it, and by learning by heart the long, difficult names of the bones. Master Nilkamal was a stickler for punctuality, there was no chance for a moment’s
variation …Taking my book and slate I sat down before the table, and he began to write figures on the blackboard in chalk. …Bengali, algebra, and geometry. In literature I jumped at one bound from sitar Banabas to Meghnathbadh kabya. Along with this there was natural science. From time to time Sitanath Dutta would come, and we acquired some superficial knowledge of science by experiments with familiar things. Once Heramba Tattvaratna, the Sanskrit  scholar , come; and I began to learn the Mugdhabodh Sanskrit grammar by heart, though without understanding a word of it. At half past four I return from school. The gymnastic master has come, and for about an hour I exercise my body on the parallel bars. He has no sooner gone than the drawing master arrives. Master Aghor has come and the English lesson begins. The black covered reader is lying in wait for me on the table. When finally I rumble into bed I have at last a little time to call my own. And there I listen to endless stories of the king’s son travelling over an endless trackless plain. 

A new bride came to the house 

In the midst of this monotony there played one day the flutes of festivity. A new bide came to the house, slender gold bracelets on her delicate brown hands. In the twinkling of any eye the cramping fence was broken, and a new being came into view from the magic land beyond the bounds of the familiar. I circled around her at a safe distance, but I did not dare to go near. She was enthroned at the centre of affection, and I was only a neglected, insignificant child.

My brother Jyotirindra played a large part in this change. At that my father finally left at Jorasanko. No
purdah was observed in my sister-in-law’s apartments. Thus will strike no one as strange today, but it then sounded an unimaginable depth of novelty. When I was a baby, my second brother had returned from England to enter the Civil Service. When he went to Bombay to take up his first post he astonished the neighborhood by taking off his wife with him before their very eyes. As if it was not enough to take her away to a distance province, instead of leaving her in the family home, he made no provision for proper privacy on the journey. That was a terrible breach of property. Even the relatives felt as if the sky had fallen on their heads. When the Bethune School was first opened my eldest sister was quite young. She was one of the pioneers who made the road to education easy for girls. In those days there was no bridge of intimacy between  adults and children. Into the tangle of these old customs Jyotirindra bought a vigorously original mind. I was twelve years younger than he, and I should come to his he never in spite of such a

difference in age in itself surprising. What was more surpising is that in my talks with him he never called me impudent or snubbed me. A piano appeared in the terance room. There came also modern varnished furniture from Bow-bazaar. At the end of the day a mat and pillow were spread on the terrace. Nearby was a thick   garland of bel flowers on a silver plate, in a wet handkerchief a glass of iced water on a saucer, and some chhanchi pan in a bowl. My sister-in-law would bathe, dress her hair and come and sit with us. Jyotidada would come out with a  slik chaddar thrown overhis shoulders, and draw the bow across his violin, and I would sing in my clear treble voice. For providence had not yet taken away the gift of voice it had given me, and under the sunset sky my song rang out across the house-tops. The south wind came into a garden. She arranged rows of tall palms in barrels and beside and around them chameli*, gandharaj*, karabi*, and dolon-champa*.


I was torn up by the roots and transplanted from one soil to another

When I was seventeen. It was then decided I should go to England. Further it was considered that before sailing I should live with mejodada for a time to get some grounding in English manners. He was then a judge in Ahmedabad, and mejo-bouthakrun and her children people, and history nowhere gives us any evidence of its past grandeur there. Our vision had
been confined to the narrow boundaries of these stunted times. In Ahmedabad I felt for the first time that history had paused, and was standing with her face turned towards the aristocratic past. …former days where buried in the earth like the tresure of the Yakshas*. My mind received the first suggestion for the story of Hungry Stones. After I had stayed there for some time mejodada decided that perhaps I should be less homesick f I could mix with women who could familiarise me with conditions abroad. It could also be an easy way to learn English. So for a while I lived with a Bombay family. I landed in England, and foreign workmanship began to play a part in the fashioning of my life. The result is what is known in chemistry as a compound. How capricious is Fortune!-I went to England for a regular course of study, and a desultory start was made, but it came to nothing. 

In England with my brother’s family

My days passed merrily under the affectionate care of my sister-in-law and in boisterous romping with the children. They were greatly tickled by my curious English pronunciation. Mr Tarak palit was then in England. He could see that this was not the way for me to get on, and prevailed upon my bother to let him take me to London, and leave me there in a lodging-house. For the newly arrived stranger there can hardly be a more cruel place than London in winter. I knew no one nearby, nor could I find my way about. 

To London via Torquay

I was only to escape when my sister-in-law sent for me from Torquay in Devonshire. I cannot express how happy I was among the hills there, by the sea, in the flower-covered meadows, under the shade of the pine woods, and with my two restlessly playful little companions. 

I return to London

The call of duty was insistent, however, I returned to London. This time I found a refuge in the house of a Dr. Scott. On a fine evening I invaded his home with bag a baggage. In a very short time I became like one of the family. Mrs. Scott treated me s a son, and the heartfelt kindness of her daughters was something rare even from one’s own relation. I spent some months in this house. Then it was time for my brother to return home, and my father wrote to me to accompany him. The prospect delighted me. The light of my country, and its sky, had been silently calling me. 
I have felt the meeting of the East and the West in my own individual life 

My Home Environment  

My father was the leader of a new religious movement, a strict monotheism based upon the teaching of the Upanishads. My countrymen in Bengal thought him almost as bad as a Christian, if not worse. So we were completely ostracized, which probably saved me from another disaster, that of imitating our own past. 


Most of the members of my family had some gift-some wee artists, some poets, some musicians, and the whole atmosphere of our home was permeated with the spirit of creation. I had a deep sense, almost from infancy, of the beauty of nature, an intimate feeling of companionship with the trees and the clouds, and felt in tune with the musical touch of the seasons in the air. The very earnestness of my emotions yearned to be true to themselves tough I was too immature to give their expression any perfection of from….


My acquaintance with death

The acquaintance which I made with Death at the age of twenty four was a permanent one, and its blow was continued to add itself to each succeeding 

bereavement in an ever lengthening chain of tears. The lightness of infant life can skip aside from the greatest of calamities, but with age evasion is not so easy, and the shock of that day I had to take full on my breast. All around, the trees, the soil, the water, the sun, the moon, the stars, remained as immovably true as before; and yet the person who was as truly there, who, though a thousand points of contact with life, mind and heart, was ever so much true for me, had vanished in a moment like dream. What perplexing self/contradiction in all seemed to me as I looked around!