Wandering Singers

p.s

Sarojini Naidu (1879-1949)

 

Sarojini Naidu popularly known by the sobriquet “The Nightingale of India” or Bulbul was instantaneous a great freedom fighter,  social worker, administrator, writer, orator, poetess and an ideal house wife. Born to scientist-philosopher father, Aghornath Chattopadhyaya, and Bengali Poetess mother Varasundari, the intellectual facet of her life was well nourished since her very childhood. She emerged as a child prodigy. At the age of twelve she passed matriculation and came out first in Madras Presidency.  At the age of sixteen, she got admitted to King’s College of England with the scholarship of Madras Presidency. At the age of nineteen, she married to Dr. Govindarajulu Naidu during the time when inter-caste marriages were not allowed. She was an icon of social change. She was responsible for awakening the women of India. She re-established self-esteem within the women of India. She traveled from state to state, city after city and fought for the rights of the women. In 1916, she met Mahatma Gandhi and from then on she totally contributed herself to the fight for freedom. The independence of India became the heart and soul of her work. In Hyderabad she was awarded the Kaiser-I-Hind Gold Medal for her outstanding work during the plague epidemic. In 1925, she became the Chairperson to the summit of congress in Kanpur. She went to USA in 1928 with the message of the non-violence. In 1929 she presided over the East Africa Indian Congress in Mombassa, and gave lectures all over South East Africa. In 1942, she was arrested during the “Quit India” protest and stayed in jail for 21 months with Gandhiji. After independence she became the Governor of Uttar Pradesh. She was the first woman governor of India. Her debut poetry collections are “Golden Threshold”, “The Bird of Time”, “The Broken Wings”, “The Magic Tree”, “The Wizard Mask”, and “A Treasury of Poems”. Mahashree Arvind, Jawaharlal Nehru, Gopala Krishna Gokhle  and Rabindranath Tagore were among the thousands of admirers of her work.. She is remembered as a true daughter of Mother India with huge self esteem, courage, determination and purity of thought and knowledge.

 

Wandering Singers 

Where the voice of the wind calls our wandering feet,

Through echoing forest and echoing street,

With lutes in our hands ever-singing we roam,

All men are our kindred, the world is our home.

Our lays are of cities whose lustre is shed,

The laughter and beauty of women long dead;

The sword of old battles, the crown of old kings,

And happy and simple and sorrowful things.

What hope shall we gather, what dreams shall we sow?

Where the wind calls our wandering footsteps we go.

No love bids us tarry, no joy bids us wait:

The voice of the wind is the voice of our fate.