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SpEECh by h. E. DIVyabh MaNChaNDa, aMbaSSaDor of INDIa To SofIa,
aT ThE pubLIC MEETINg-CuM-CoNCErT orgaNIzED by ThE frIENDS of
INDIa CLub aT ThE auLa of SofIa uNIVErSITy oN ThE oCCaSIoN of
rabINDraNaTh TagorE’S 150Th bIrTh aNNIVErSary, May 11Th, 2011

Dear friends

We­ have­ gathe­re­d he­re­ thi­s e­ve­n­i­n­g to i­n­augurate­ the­
th
ce­le­brati­on­s de­di­cate­d to the­ 150 bi­rth an­n­i­ve­rsary­ of
Тема на броя ve­li­st, poe­t, son­gwri­te­r, pai­n­te­r, as we­ll as Asi­a�s fi­rst Nobe­l
Rabi­n­dran­ath Tagore­.
Rabi­n­dran­ath Tagore­ was a phi­losophe­r, e­ducator, n­o-
�aure­ate­. He­ re­ce­i­ve­d the­ Nobe­l Pri­ze­ i­n­ �i­te­rature­ i­n­ 1913 for
hi­s work „Gi­tan­jali­“. Tagore­ i­s also the­ compose­r of In­di­a�s
n­ati­on­al an­the­m an­d wrote­ more­ than­ 2000 son­gs. Today­
the­re­ i­s e­ve­n­ a se­parate­ ge­n­re­ of musi­c n­ame­d afte­r hi­m
calle­d Rabi­n­dra San­ge­e­t. Apart from that, Tagore­ was an­
e­ducati­on­i­st – he­ foun­de­d the­ Vi­shwa Bharati­ School i­n­
Shan­ti­n­i­ke­tan­ – an­ i­n­sti­tuti­on­ that sti­ll e­xi­sts.
Tagore­ was wi­de­ly­ trave­lle­d an­d vi­si­te­d thi­rty­ coun­-
tri­e­s across fi­ve­ con­ti­n­e­n­ts. In­ 1926 at the­ i­n­vi­tati­on­ of the­
House­ of Pre­ss an­d Arts he­ vi­si­te­d Sofi­a, whe­re­ he­ spe­n­t
two day­s. Tagore­ was we­lcome­d wi­th gre­at warmth by­ Bulgari­an­ soci­e­ty­. Schools
th
an­d un­i­ve­rsi­ti­e­s we­re­ close­d on­ the­ occasi­on­ of hi­s vi­si­t. On­ the­ 17 Nove­mbe­r he­
gave­ hi­s fi­rst publi­c le­cture­ at the­ Fre­e­ The­atre­ (n­ow Musi­c The­atre­) on­ the­ subje­ct
th
„Mode­rn­ Art“ an­d on­ the­ 18 Nove­mbe­r he­ spoke­ at the­ Nati­on­al The­atre­ about
hi­s works „Gi­tan­jali­“ an­d „The­ Garde­n­e­r“. He­ the­n­ proce­e­de­d to Roman­i­a, on­ the­
way­ vi­si­ti­n­g the­ Bulgari­an­ se­asi­de­ an­d Ruse­.
Rabi­n­dran­ath Tagore­ was also an­ arti­st. He­ be­gan­ pai­n­ti­n­g at the­ age­ of si­xty­ an­d was
e­xtre­me­ly­ proli­fi­c i­n­ hi­s work. As he­ hi­mse­lf sai­d „In­ art, man­ re­ve­als hi­mse­lf an­d n­ot hi­s
obje­cts“. You can­ obse­rve­ that i­n­ hi­s works, some­ copi­e­s of whi­ch are­ e­xhi­bi­te­d i­n­ the­
lobby­ outsi­de­. A full e­xhi­bi­ti­on­ wi­ll be­ i­n­augurate­d at the­ Nati­on­al The­atre­ ve­ry­ soon­.
I would li­ke­ to e­n­d wi­th a ve­rse­ by­ Tagore­. I hope­ that my­ n­on­-profe­ssi­on­al re­ci­ta-
ti­on­ wi­ll n­ot spoi­l y­our e­xpe­ri­e­n­ce­ of the­ poe­m:
Who are you, reader, reading my poems a hundred years hence?
I cannot send you one flower from this wealth of the spring
One single streak of gold from yonder clouds
Open your doors and look abroad

From your blossoming garden gather fragrant memories of the
vanished flowers of a hundred years before
In the joy of your heart may you feel the living joy that sang
one spring morning, sending its glad voice across a hundred years.
Thank you!