Thakurbari at Jorasanko, Kolkata. Home to Rabindranath Tagore.

Just like many of us, I was first introduced  to Rabindranath Tagore  during the early school years. Tagore -  the poet who penned our National Anthem.

As I progressed to the higher classes, I got another glimpse of Tagore in my history text books, as one of the  leaders in our struggle for independence. Every academic year as I read and studied about him, his stories and his many  poems,  his Shantiniketan, where students were freed from the confines of a classroom to study under a blue sky, in the shade of a tree........he made a place in my heart.  The image of him  - of the  affable grandfatherly figure,  with his flowing hair, a flowing beard , attired in a flowing robe - only added  a liberal dose of affection to the admiration I already had for him.


That year, the spouse had a busy work schedule and he was  travelling a lot.   A family vacation seemed like an impossible thought.  So we thought of making  the best of a worst situation and decided to travel with him.  A business cum pleasure trip...business for him and pleasure for us.  The thought took root and it felt just right.

He had to travel to Bhubaneshwar and Kolkatta, that week... 3 days in Bhubaneshwar and 2 in Kolkatta. I had been to Bhubaneshwar before, but never to Kolkata.  The daughter hadn't been to either. Bhubaneshwar and Kolkatta beckoned!

I listed  all the 'must see places', and the 'must do activities'  I had read about on travel and food blogs and had  bookmarked for Kolkata....a metro ride.. a tram ride..The Museum, Dakshineshwar, Kalighat, the Marble Palace, Victoria Memorial, Howrah bridge, Bankura, Vidyasagar setu, terracotta temples of Bishnupur, Shantiniketan..  I had to visit Gangurams'and  K C Das to gorge on rosogullas, chamcham, singada, koraishutir kochuri... Flurry's for the pastries.  Jhalmuri.  and puchka from a stall outside Dakshinapan. Gariahat and Dakshinapan to  buy  a couple of tangails, jamdani and kantha... I had it all planned.  And yes, now that I was visiting Kolkata, I had to visit the  Thakurbari - Tagore's residence in Jorasanko.

Two days seemed too little a time to tackle my list, yet  we managed to tick off quite a few items off it.  The rest, I reserved for another time.

In Kolkata, while the husband went out on his official engagement, the daughter and I set out on our own.  Jorasangko was our first destination.

Kolkata's yellow ambassador cab fleet is a delight  when compared with the Kaali Peeli of 'aapli' Mumbai, where you hail and request half a dozen cabs, till you find the  one 'bhaisaab'  who will agree to take you to your destination.  In Kolkata, we just flagged down a passing cab and gave him our destination.  Simple it was !

Jorasangko was about 20 minutes away   from our hotel.  The roads we took, reminded me of the  streets of old Mumbai..Lower Parel, Charni Road and even Kalbadevi.  Driving past a few lanes and by - lanes, we found ourselves outside the imposing Thakurbari.  A red structure nestled amidst the greenery.

Thakurbari which was home to Rabindranath Tagore   is now the Rabindra Bharati Museum.

Towards the left of the building is an office where you buy the entry passes and also lock away your bags, phones and cameras in a locker.   For a while I was upset with the No Photography rule.. but later I was to realize that  there is so much you notice and remember in your mind's eye, the camera is almost rendered redundant.

As we entered the office...we could hear the  strains of Rabindra Sangeet.  Melodious, with an underlying note of melancholy, a longing.  Something tugged at the heart.

We left our slippers outside the office and ascended the staircase leading to the first floor.  It was the hallowed precincts of the Tagore's home,  I was stepping into a rich past... a history !

For a bari which is really huge,  the rooms inside seem pretty small to me.  The bari  is now empty and silent and  I could only imagine it bustling with life... teeming with the family members.... their joys, their sorrows as they went through the routines of each day.

A wide verandah runs outside all rooms on both sides.  One,  overlooks the  street beyond the garden and another verandah running outside the same rooms on the other side, overlooks the courtyard nestled below.  The ceilings are high.   Green slatted shutters keep out the harsh sunlight in the verandah, while the lattice work on the  railing adds a touch of the delicate  to the otherwise sturdy structure.

The Rabindra Bharati Museum is a treasure trove of moments associated with Tagore...photographs, paintings, personal items. There are innumerable unseen picture frames of him as a child, as a wiry young man in western formals and then the gentle looking paternal figure we remember him as.   Also pictures of him with his parents and siblings and then pictures of his as a family man, accompanied by his wife and his children.  One has rarely  seen these images  and for  most of us these are   facets of him which we are not very  familiar with.

There are rooms where Tagore's robes as on display in a glass cabinet..the Tagore family dinnerware in another.  There is a maternity room, on one side, where a new mother  and her newborn probably spent their time in confinement.  At various places in the verandah and inside the rooms are placed little placards with extracts from his Reminiscences.  It gives a feeling of Tagore personally  sharing an anecdote or a sentiment with you.

 There is a gallery which houses several paintings in a controlled environment.   There are the oils..portraits mostly, framed in huge gilded frames.  There are paintings made by family members.  On display in a glass cabinet are a   painting palette - aesthetically shaped like a  flower, brushes and paints used by the artists in the family.  The little   tins of watercolors - an Indian Red and a  Vandyke Brown, bear the name of the company  Winsor Newton Ltd, Rathbone Place, London

 There is a particularly beautiful watercolour by Sushil Sen, depicting the immersion of Devi after the Pujo.  The idol is  mounted on 2 boats and is being taken into the water.  Among the details painted in the frame are the dhakis , the crowds, an   idol seller,  a vendor selling the kitchen equipment.. cutting  blades, ladles.. There is a delicate transparency in this water colour.

Rabindranath Tagore, it is said, took up painting late in his lifetime, and yet produced an impressive body of work.   Of his art and  about his paintings, he writes,  "People often ask me about the meaning of my pictures. I remain silent even as my pictures are. They have nothing ulterior behind their own appearance.for the thoughts to explore and words to describe and if that appeanrance caries its ultimate worth there they remain otherwise they are rejected and forgotten even though they may have some scientific truth or ethical justification."

A huge room, displays photographs of Rabindranath Tagore with eminent personalities of the time  like Einstein and the very beautiful Hellen Keller.  There are other pictures of him with Netaji Subhashchandra Bose, Khan Abdul Ghafar Khan, Sarojini Naidu, Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay, W C  Bannerjee  Firoz Shah Mehta, J C Bose. These photographs which portray their interaction and engagement with each other, somehow make the people in these images come  to life, make them feel more real.  One has been so used to seeing their one dimensional staid pictures in academic books....these pictures bring the people a notch closer to the observer's heart.

Tagore's study, is a corner room,  shaded by the trees outside. The comfortable,  lived in wooden furniture adds to the cosiness of this room.  The  marble  top of the  writing table has dark  marks of lead all over it.  I wondered , "so this is where he wrote and sketched !"


Another smallish room is  the living room of Mrinalini Devi, wife of Rabindranath Tagore.  A mirror and a dark Neelambari saree which once belonged to her, now left behind in that room.....it is an almost  eerie feeling.

The exhibits in this room  portray Tagore as the much married man.  He married Mrinalaini Devi on 24th August 1883 and had  penned his own wedding invite on this occasion. There are photographs of him with  his coiffured hair, posing with his wife and pictures of the couple  with their children -  Samindranath,  Madhurilata,  Renuka,  Mira and Rathindranath.
A  postcard addressed to Mrinalini Devi   by an excited Tagore   from atop  the Eiffel Tower  in Paris, is displayed on a wall.  The  stamp shows the date as September  1890. The post card in his handwriting is addressed to

Mrs R Tagore
6 Dwarkanath Tagore's Lane
Jorasanko
Calcutta
India

Mrinalini Devi passed away in  1902,   their    daughter Renuka  in 1903  and son Samindra in 1907.

Another  room,  a bed occupying much of the space, the mattress covered with a white sheet... Photographs of a very frail Tagore in his bed, ailing  , and then a picture of his last journey.  On the wall,  a placard bears the words :

“When I leave from hence let this be my parting word that what I have seen is unsurpassable. I have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus yonder that expands on the ocean of light and thus am I blessed, let this be my parting word. In this playhouse of infinite forms I have had my play and here have I caught sight of him that eludes all forms. All my living body and limbs have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch-and if the end comes here let it come-let this be my parting word.”

I couldn't hold back my tears.

This then    is the  Thakurbari, of the Thakurs of Jorasanko ,  where Rabindranath was born on 7th May 1861 .   This is where he lived and  this is where he breathed his last on  August 7 1941.  This is where we acquaint ourselves with the person he was.....in the intimate environment of his home.

Thakurbari...A living museum.