This is a piece by the rare genius that was , "RABINDRANATH TAGORE", my apologies in advance to those who feel offended or feel i have disgraced somehow!
The child who is decked with prince's robes and who has Jewelled chains round his neck
loses all pleasure in his play; his dress hampers him at every step.
In fear that it may be frayed, or stained with dust he keeps himself from the world,
and is afraid even to move.
Mother, it is no gain, thy bondage of finery,
if it keeps one shut off from the healthful dust of the earth,
if it rob one of the right of entrance to the great fair of common human life.
I really don’t know what the maestro here meant by robes and jeweled chains but I cannot help equate those to the wishes of “secure” future, respectable positions, the clichéd wrongs and the over hyped rights. The relativity of success to my mind is no less than a stain and the never ending comparisons are bondage. Healthful is to be able to let your life be lead by your instincts, after all it is only one life we get, or so I think. Pleasure is in not in never falling but getting bruised and letting life do its work, it is to live and not to brood. Play is not knowing the consequences and yet gathering up the courage to perform.
Fear is; as a friend puts it, “not of remaining common but of not being able to know what common was”.
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