The Story of a Proffeser by Rabindranath Tagore (Chapter 2)

Second chapter

Father sent me from the country to get married. I took some time. I had a self-contradiction in my criticism of Baiyachan Babu, and my own rebellion was born. My critics were secretly hitting part of my writer's part. My author was saying, I'll pay it; I'll write once again and see, I'm not big but my critics are big.

In my mind, I decided to write one of the words 'Sublime' - in the footsteps of the world, for the sake of faith, for self-denial and for forgiveness of the enemy; The Bengali critics will be provided with the biggest criticism.

I decided to sit in a beautiful lonely place and create the most important work of my life. I promised, at least one month-friendly and friendly friends-I will not even meet anyone.

Calling the invaluable, I said my plan. She became absolutely stunned, that she should see the first Arun-Jyoti of my brother-in-law's far-away future. Gripped my hand in grave mouth and put the enormous face up to my mouth and said softly, "Come on, brother, immortal glory!

My body was thrilled; It was as if I was a representative of Bangla Desh, who was a proud devotee of Banga, and told me these precious things.

The priceless also did not make big sacrifices; He completely abandoned my companionship for a long time for the good of the country. Due to sagging sorrow, my friend took a tram and went to his Cornwallis Street home, I went to earn immortal glory, fame in the garden of Farddanga by the Ganges.

I felt awkward sleep in the afternoon, thinking about the universal love of sleeping in the lonely house of the Ganges, I would wake up at five o'clock in the afternoon. After that the body was somewhat depressed; I used to sit in a small wooden laddress on the back side of the garden behind the garden to show some leisure and time to leisure and watch carriage and public transportation. When I was absolutely helpless, I went to the station, telegraph's thorns were tossed, bumped on the ticket, there was a lot of masses, the blood-eyed Sahasrabad came with a blown bruising, and went on crying and crying, and I used to get rid of the people. I used to fall asleep in the morning due to lack of partner due to my family's return, and I used to spend eight or nine hours in the morning as there was no need to wake up morning and morning.

The body was made of dust, there was no blindness of faith in the universe. If there was no habit of staying alone in a while, it seemed like the empty crematorium of the untouchable Gongati; Anamuta is also an ass, that even for a day he did not break his promise.

Before I was sitting in Calcutta, I was thinking that we should spread the foot under the banyan tree, in the middle of the river, and the river will be in its heart - in the middle of the dream poet, and in all its glory, and on the other side, the flowers, the branches in the sky, the stars in the sky, the universal love between the mind and the unseen odds Rhythm flowing But where the nature and where the poet of nature, where the world and where the philanthropist! I did not get out in the garden for a day. The flowers of Kanan grew up in the sky, the stars of the sky rose in the sky, the shade of the banyan tree fell under the bot trees, and I used to stay in the house of the house.

Without being able to prove her self-sacrifice, she became increasingly angry with Baimacharan.

At that time, taking a child marriage took a fancy to the educated society of Bangla. Bairamacharan was in favor of child marriage and he was heard that he was bound by a young girl's love affair and soon expected to be tied around.

The subject was very comical about me, and did not even take the epic of the world of love, so sit down and sit down and make a hero of the hero and write a fictional girl named Kadambakoli Majumder. After writing this immortal works of writing, I started going to Calcutta. At that time the ride was disturbed.