Chitra: A Play in One Act

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Macmillan Company, 1914 - Mahābhārata - 85 pages
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chitra is a feminist track as far as my opinion is concern when i am studying this play it seems to me as a great track of feminist through the character of chitrangadha and how she was attracted towards is comiocasm note reintoducing the myth of mahabaratha is a technique of tagore even though it is a one act play it consists of 9 scenes and tasgore mind is fillled with hindu mythology i think it is wrong opinion to read it ias a hindu religious fervour the condition of chitravahana seems to be unworthy why there is no rartionality in the condition through the character of chitra he presented us a picture of the past chandalika in tagore play 

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Page 85 - I am Chitra. No goddess to be worshipped, nor yet the object of .common pity to be brushed aside like .a moth with indifference. If you deign to keep me by your side in the path of danger and daring, if you allow me to share the great duties of your life, then you will know my true self. If your babe, whom I am nourishing in my womb, be born a .son, I shall myself teach him to be a second Arjuna, and send him to you when the time comes, and then at last you will truly know me. To-day I can only offer...
Page 84 - The gift that I proudly bring you is the heart of a woman. Here have all pains and joys gathered, the hopes and fears and shames of a daughter of the dust; here love springs up struggling toward immortal life.
Page 26 - ... trail on the earth at her feet. She bared her bosom and looked at her arms, so flawlessly modelled, and instinct with an exquisite caress. Bending her head she saw the sweet blossoming of her youth and the tender bloom and blush of her skin. She beamed with a glad surprise. So, if the white lotus bud on opening her eyes in the morning were to arch her neck and see her shadow in the water, would she wonder at herself the live-long day. But a -moment after the smile passed from her face, .and a...
Page 83 - SCENE IX CHITRA and ARJUNA Chitra [cloaked} MY lord, has the cup been drained to the last drop? Is this, indeed, the end? No, when all is done something still remains, and that is my last sacrifice at your feet. I brought from the garden of heaven flowers of incomparable beauty with which to worship you, god of my heart. If the rites are over, if the flowers have faded, let me throw them out of the temple [unveiling in her original male attire]. Now, look at your worshipper with gracious eyes.
Page 78 - Illusion is the first appearance of Truth. She advances towards her lover in disguise. But a time comes when she throws off her ornaments and veils and stands clothed in naked dignity. I grope for that ultimate you, that bare simplicity of truth.
Page 13 - SCENE I Chitra. Art thou the god with the five darts, the Lord of Love? Madana. I am he who was the first born in the heart of the Creator. I bind in bonds of pain and bliss the lives of men and women!
Page 21 - ... What boy is this ? Has one of my slaves in a former life followed me like my good deeds into this ?" I am not the woman who nourishes her despair in lonely silence, feeding it with nightly tears and covering it with the daily patient smile, a widow from her birth. The flower of my desire shall never drop into the dust before it has ripened to fruit. But it is the labour of a lifetime to make one's true self known and honoured.
Page 42 - I found a lonely nook, and sitting down covered my face with both hands, and tried to weep and cry. But no tears came to my eyes. Madana. Alas, thou daughter of mortals! I stole from the divine storehouse the fragrant wine of heaven, filled with it one earthly night to the brim, and placed it in thy hand to drink — yet still I hear this cry of anguish! Chitra (bitterly^). Who drank it? The rarest completion of life's desire, the first union of love was proffered to me, but was wrested from my grasp!...
Page 65 - ... died with honour. Yet, its days are numbered, my love. Spare it not, press it dry of honey, for fear your beggar's heart come back to it again and again with unsated desire, like a thirsty bee when summer blossoms lie dead in the dust.
Page 21 - Love, and thou, Vasanta, youthful Lord of the Seasons, take from my young body this primal injustice, an unattractive plainness. For a single day make me superbly beautiful, even as beautiful as was the sudden blooming of love in my heart. Give me but one brief day of perfect beauty, and I will answer for the days that follow.

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