Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.
This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.
At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.
Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.
- Rabindranath Tagore, Gitanjali
Bengalis Speaking Hindi
1 week ago
2 comments:
Hi there,
Just read your post on The Indian Shitizen.
I just started a software co. recently in India. Am always on the lookout for doing good and meaningful work.
If you have some ideas, maybe we could talk?
My gtalk id is joginder.tanikella@gmail.com
I'm on orkut too - search for "Wom said Yoda"
Regards,
Jogi
Jogi - Thanks a lot for your sincere and quick response. I am currently working on some ideas, well really some shells of ideas, which I am compiling right now. It would be my dream to put them into implementation. Will definitely get in touch with you soon to discuss, once they are a little more well defined. And soon is subjective but I am hoping pretty soon.
Best,
Useless
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