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Sounds of Silence in "Subha" by Rabindranath Tagore
Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.
Alfred Tennyson penned down his famous “In Memoriam A.H.H” in 1850 in memory of his beloved friend who died at the age of twenty-two years. A verse in its CXXII part seeps into our minds as a fresh gust of wind in the morning,
“And all the breeze of Fancy blows, And every dew-drop paints a bow, The wizard lightnings deeply glow, And every thought breaks out a rose.”
“And every dew-drop paints a bow” throbs with an innate truth about life that brightly blends metaphysics with the emotional exuberance of mind. It outlines the grandeur of tiny droplets of water and the way they subsume the whole reality in themselves.
We more often than not stress on the larger and more obvious forms of reality but fail to attend to the details of existence that wrap the subtitles for the movie of life.
"Subha" by Rabindranath Tagore
Rabindranath Tagore was one such great who devoted his whole life into unwrapping the mysteries of humanity and exhibited to everyone the naked pulp of bitter truth.
Tagore’s writings and artworks have a great impact on the psyche of the masses and serve as a critique of the prevalent social order and structure.
In his short story “Subha”, Rabindranath Tagore manifests the plight of a young girl Subhashini, or Subha in short, who also happens to be dumb by birth. And how her lack of speech is perceived by the people around her as a lack of feelings and emotions and a proof of lifelessness.
At every turn of the story, there is a display of the wretched psyche of society towards differently abled people, for Subha becomes a subject of pity and shame for her parents and everyone around, in contrast to her desire to be treated like any other girl in the village.
“If only they would all forget her, she felt she could endure it. But who can forget pain?”
Rabindranath Tagore, a literary maestro, wielded a pen that inked the depths of human emotion with unparalleled finesse. With words as his paintbrush, he illustrated the canvas of the soul, capturing the myriad hues of joy, sorrow, and everything in between. Like a mystic, he delved into hearts, unearthing the buried gems of feelings, and brought them to life in verses that stirred the spirit.
With every stroke of his poetic prowess, he unveils in the story of “Subha” the intricacies of love, pain, and longing, resonating with hearts across oceans and borders. His verses transcend time, casting an eternal spell on the reader's senses, as if whispering, “I see you, I feel you, and you are not alone.” In the realm of emotions, Tagore reigned supreme — a visionary wordsmith, forever entwined with the human heart.
The Sounds of Silence
Tagore’s exceptional sense of aesthetics and expression dive together to create a revealing and highly ironic illustration of her life and society. His use of poetic devices carves out the beautiful anatomy of Subha’s soul.
They who from birth have had no other speech than the trembling of their lips learn a language of the eyes, endless in expression, deep as the sea, clear as the heavens, wherein play dawn and sunset, light and shadow. The dumb have a lonely grandeur like Nature’s own, silent and companionless as noontide.
Subha’s loneliness, the vacancy in her heart is filled by nature and a small river that flows through her village. The murmur of the brook, the voice of the village folk, the songs of the boatmen, the crying of the birds and rustle of trees mingled and were one with the trembling of her heart. They became one vast wave of sound which beat upon her restless soul.
This murmur and movement of Nature were the dumb girl’s language; that speech of the dark eyes, which the long lashes shaded, was the language of the world about her. From the trees, where the cicalas chirped, to the quiet stars there was nothing but signs and gestures, weeping and sighing.
Tagore’s use of ironic nomenclature of the characters also adds up to the masala of the story. The girl’s name, “Subhashini”, literally means “soft-spoken”, which is a big irony in itself as Subha cannot speak physically, but her voice of silence is parallelly loud enough to justify her name. Similarly, her other two friends, her two cows, Sarbbashi and Panguli are also interestingly named, as “Sarbbashi” translates into “the one who knows every language”.
They had never heard their names from her lips, but they knew her footfall. Though she had no words, she murmured lovingly and they understood her gentle murmuring better than all speech. When she fondled them or scolded or coaxed them, they understood her better than men could do.
Subha’s social ostracizing by the villagers and the feeling of being a burden on her parents as a girl and that too dumb leaves her with fancy imaginations which are fueled by her desire to feel included and accepted. As once, sitting by the river with her losel friend Pratap, she imagines,
If she had been a water nymph, she might have risen slowly from the river, bringing the gem of a snake’s crown to the landing-place. Then Pratap, leaving his paltry fishing, might dive into the lower world, and see there, on a golden bed in a palace of silver, who else but dumb little Su, Banikantha’s child? Yes, our Su, the only daughter of the king of that shining city of jewels!
The Searcher of Hearts
The truth of having Subha as their daughter was a crippling anxiety to Banikantha and his wife. The fear of society making them outcasts has always eaten them from within. And over that, there came the time when the dreaded thought of her marriage came to life in their minds.
Tagore then brings our attention to the ugly mindset and corroded psyche of society towards girls and women in general. And how they are perceived just as an object to be transacted and utilized in the favor of a family’s pride and honor.
One day, Banikantha, Subha’s father, decides they must go to Calcutta, and they get ready to go to that “strange” country. Subha’s heart was heavy with tears, like a mistwrapt dawn. As a stricken doe looks in the hunter’s face, asking in silent agony: “What have I done to you?” Subha thought as she dogged her father and mother like a dumb animal.
Subha went to the cow-shed to bid farewell to her childhood’s comrades. She fed them with her hand; she clasped their necks; she looked into their faces, and tears fell fast from the eyes which spoke for her.
Then, in a house in Calcutta, Subha’s mother dressed her up with great care. She imprisoned her hair, knotting it up in laces, hung her about with ornaments, and did her best to kill her natural beauty, as Subha’s eyes filled with tears.
Tagore here seems to cross all the conceivable limits of clarity in putting up the explicit satire on the horrible social arrangement and a system where a person is reduced to a mere liability on the shoulders of family and society just because of being born as a girl, and that too dumb.
The bridegroom came with a friend to inspect the bride. Her parents were dizzy with anxiety and fear when they saw the god arrive to select the beast for his sacrifice. Subha was weeping before she was sent into the examiner’s presence. The great man, after scanning her for a long time, observed: “ Not so bad.”
He took special note of her tears, and thought Subha must have a tender heart. He put it to her credit in the account, arguing that the heart, which to-day was distressed at leaving her parents, would presently prove a useful possession. Like the oyster’s pearls, the child’s tears only increased her value, and he made no other comment.
The almanac was consulted, and the marriage took place on an auspicious day. Having delivered their dumb girl into another’s hands, Subha’s parents returned home. They took a sigh of relief as now their caste in this and their safety in the next world was assured!
Conversely to what Niccolò Machiavelli once rightly said,
“Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.”
Rabindranath Tagore touches that innocent heart of Subha, who found no speech and faces familiar from birth, of those who had understood a dumb girl’s language. He gives her the warmth of thought in this cold strange world, where no one cares for anyone unless they are of some use to them, unless they are like everyone else.
We can say that in the tapestry of humanity's grand design, there are threads that shimmer with hues of resilience and fortitude, woven by those whom society deems differently abled. These radiant souls, though graced with unique challenges, possess an unyielding spirit that sets them apart in a world often preoccupied with conformity. It is sad that some gaze upon them through a fragmented lens, only seeing what they believe to be limitations, obscured by a veil of misconceptions.
But enlightened hearts like Tagore, see beyond mere appearances. They perceive the strength that emerges from adversity, the beauty in diversity, and the boundless potential that resides within each individual, irrespective of their abilities. The empathetic understand that society's tapestry is enriched by embracing these vibrant threads, integrating them harmoniously into the fabric of our existence.
Let us not define these exceptional beings by their struggles but instead by their triumphs, celebrating their unique gifts and contributions. For in the collective embrace of differences, we discover a symphony of compassion, crafting a world where all souls find acceptance and love.
In her silent heart, there sounded an endless, voiceless weeping, which only the Searcher of Hearts could hear.
Read and Contemplate on the Kahlil Gibran's enlightening discourse on love, life and death, and then Sigmund Freud's prophecy on the future of the illusion of religious ideas and science.
Get your own copy of Rabindranath Tagore's “Subha” from here.
