рдорд╣рддреНрд╡рдкреВрд░реНрдг рдЦрдмрд░реЗрдВ рдФрд░ рдЖрд▓реЗрдЦ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╕рдЪ : рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рддреЛ рдЭреВрдарди рд╣реИ, рджрд┐рд▓реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рджрд┐рдорд╛рдЧ рдХреЛ рдмрд┐рдЧрд╛рдбрд╝рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рдХрд▓рд╛ рдорд╛рдзреНрдпрдо рдирд┐рд░реНрдгрд╛рдпрдХ, рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рднреА рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡
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рдорд╣рддреНрд╡рдкреВрд░реНрдг рдЦрдмрд░реЗрдВ рдФрд░ рдЖрд▓реЗрдЦ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╕рдЪ : рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рддреЛ рдЭреВрдарди рд╣реИ, рджрд┐рд▓реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рджрд┐рдорд╛рдЧ рдХреЛ рдмрд┐рдЧрд╛рдбрд╝рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рдХрд▓рд╛ рдорд╛рдзреНрдпрдо рдирд┐рд░реНрдгрд╛рдпрдХ, рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рднреА рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡
рд╕реБрд░реНрдЦрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ
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Our girls are alread world champions irrespective of Lords result,they defeated patriarchy! They have to defeat the patriarchal Khap Panchayti psyche of the society also!
Our girls are alread world champions irrespective of Lords result,they defeated patriarchy!
They have to defeat the patriarchal Khap Panchayti psyche of the society also!
Palash Biswas
It is most important that after Harmanpreet Kaur's ton, mother reminds India of 'Save girl child' motto,as media reports.
I must add that our girls without the support of the patriarchy of BCCI which is all about IPL corporate profit making corporate economy has reached the destination to make in a profeesional team,in which every girl has a role.
It is not all about some Mithali Raj,Jhulan Goswami,Harman Preet or Smriti Mandhana.
Every girl is a perfect icon.
Harmanpreet Kaur hit 171* as India defeated defending champions Australia in the second semi-final of the ICC Women's Cricket World Cup 2017.┬а
Her mother Satinder Kaur urged all Indians to give their daughter a chance to live their dream!
This statement explains everything.Most of them belong to small town and may not speak English and Veda has to be play translator for them while they become player of the match.
We have individual girls in athletics, tennis, badminton, archery , wrestling,TT, gymanatic, hockey, football who represented India and fetched medals,awards in Olympics, SAF,Commonwealth,Asiad and International events as exception.But neither the society nor the nation ever tried to promote girls at any level to rise for the occasion.
If the girls are not subjected to gender bias and have equal opportunity and support,our girls may certainly compete Chinese,Japanese,Koran and European, Latin American, African and American girls as some girls already proved in sports.
Indian Woman Cricket is the best example of the gendre bias as we have seen in SRK film Chak De India.Dangal also explained the patriarchal Khap Panchayti psyche of the society.
Harmanpreet Kaur hit 171* as India defeated defending champions Australia in the second semi-final of the ICC Women's Cricket World Cup 2017.
┬аHer mother Satinder Kaur urged all Indians to give their daughter a chance to live their dream.
Her mother, however, took the opportunity in reminding fellow Indians the need to empower their daughters.
"I just want to say other women that the way my daughter has made us proud, they should also give their daughter a chance to live their dream and shouldn't kill them in the womb," Harmanpreet Kaur's mother Satinder Kaur told ANI.
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рдбреЛрдХ рд▓рд╛1 рдореЗрдВ рддрдирд╛рд╡ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдиреАрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рдЪреАрди рдХрд╛ рднрдп рдЖрдирдВрдж рд╕реНрд╡рд░реВрдк рд╡рд░реНрдорд╛
рдЖрдирдВрдж рд╕реНрд╡рд░реВрдк рд╡рд░реНрдорд╛
рдЕрдм рд╕реЗ рдЪрд╛рд░ рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдкреВрд░реНрд╡┬а2013┬ардореЗрдВ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдзрд╛рдиреА рдерд┐рдВрдкреВ рдореЗрдВ рджрдХреНрд╖рд┐рдг рдПрд╢рд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рджреЗрд╢реЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдПрдХ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдпрд┐рдХ рд╕рдорд╛рд░реЛрд╣ рд╣реБрдЖ рдерд╛ рдЬрд┐рд╕рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐рдХ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдмрд╣реБрдд рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдЗрдХрдЯреНрдард╛ рд╣реБрдП рдереЗред┬а'рдЕрддреАрдд рдХрд╛ рдЖрдЗрдирд╛' (рджрд┐ рдорд┐рд░рд░ рдСрдл рджрд┐ рдкрд╛рд╕реНрдЯ) рд╢реАрд░реНрд╖рдХ рд╕рддреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдбреЙ. рдХрд░реНрдорд╛ рдлреБрдВрддреНрд╕реЛ рдиреЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдФрд░ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдзреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХреБрдЫ рдорд╣рддреНрд╡рдкреВрд░реНрдг рдмрд╛рддреЗрдВ рдХрд╣реАрдВ рдереАрдВред рдбреЙ. рдХрд░реНрдорд╛ рдлреБрдВрддреНрд╕реЛ┬а''рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрдЯреНрд░реА рдСрдл рднреВрдЯрд╛рди''┬ардХреЗ рд▓реЗрдЦрдХ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдПрдХ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд░реВрдк рдореЗрдВ рдЙрдирдХреА рдХрд╛рдлреА рдЦреНрдпрд╛рддрд┐ рд╣реИред рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреА рдореИрддреНрд░реА рдХреЛ рдорд╣рддреНрд╡ рджреЗрддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдХрд╣рд╛ рдХрд┐''рдХрднреА-рдХрднреА рджреБрд░реНрднрд╛рдЧреНрдпрдкреВрд░реНрдг рдШрдЯрдирд╛рдПрдВ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рддреА рд╣реИрдВ рдЬреИрд╕реА рдХрд┐ рдЕрддреАрдд рдореЗрдВ рд╣реБрдИрдВред''┬ардЙрдирдХрд╛ рд╕рдВрдХреЗрдд рдХреБрдЫ рд╣реА рджрд┐рдиреЛрдВ рдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рд╣реБрдП рдЪреБрдирд╛рд╡ рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рджреНрд╡рд╛рд░рд╛ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЛ рджреА рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдмрдВрдж рдХрд░ рджреЗрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдерд╛ред рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдЖрдЧреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ рдХрд┐''рд╢рд╛рдпрдж рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рд╕реНрдерд╛рдиреАрдп рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╣рд╕реНрддрдХреНрд╖реЗрдк рдХреЛ рдкрд╕рдВрдж рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдирд┐рдЬреА рд╣рд┐рддреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░рдг рд░рд╛рдЬреНрдп рдЧрд▓рддрд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд░рд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдХрджрдо рд╕реЗ рджреЛрд╕реНрддрд╛рдирд╛ рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдзреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдиреБрдХрд╕рд╛рди рдкрд╣реБрдВрдЪрддрд╛ рд╣реИред''рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЗрд╕реА рд╡рдХреНрддрд╡реНрдп рдореЗрдВ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдпрд╣ рднреА рдХрд╣рд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдКрдкрд░ рдЕрдЧрд░ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рдирд┐рд░реНрднрд░рддрд╛ рдмрдиреА рд░рд╣реА рддреЛ рдХрднреА рдпрд╣ рдореИрддреНрд░реА рдмрд░рд╛рдмрд░реА рдХреЗ рд╕реНрддрд░ рдХреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛ рд╕рдХрддреАред рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рд╕реБрдЭрд╛рд╡ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐ рд╡реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕реЗ рдХреБрдЫ рднреА рд▓реЗрддреЗ рд╕рдордп рдмрд╣реБрдд рд╕рддрд░реНрдХ рд░рд╣реЗрдВред
рдбреЙ. рдХрд░реНрдорд╛ рдиреЗ рдпреЗ рдмрд╛рддреЗрдВ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдЪреБрдирд╛рд╡ рдХреА рдкреГрд╖реНрдарднреВрдорд┐ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд╣реАрдВ рдереАред рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдпрд╣ рдЬрд╛рдирдирд╛ рдЬрд░реВрд░реА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЙрд╕ рдЪреБрдирд╛рд╡ рдХреЗ рдореМрдХреЗ рдкрд░ рдРрд╕рд╛ рдХреНрдпрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рдерд╛ рдЬрд┐рд╕рдиреЗ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреА рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдХрд╛рдлреА рдЙрджреНрд╡реЗрд▓рд┐рдд рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдерд╛ред┬а13┬ардЬреБрд▓рд╛рдИ2013┬ардХреЛ рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рд╕рдВрдкрдиреНрди рджреВрд╕рд░реЗ рдЖрдо рдЪреБрдирд╛рд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдкреНрд░рдореБрдЦ рд╡рд┐рдкрдХреНрд╖реА рдкрд╛рд░реНрдЯреА рдкреАрдкреБрд▓реНрд╕ рдбреЗрдореЛрдХреНрд░реЗрдЯрд┐рдХ рдкрд╛рд░реНрдЯреА (рдкреАрдбреАрдкреА) рдиреЗ рдЙрд╕ рд╕рдордп рдХреА рд╕рддреНрддрд╛рд░реВреЭ рдбреНрд░реБрдХ рдлреЗрдирд╕реБрдо рд╕реЛрдВрдЧрдкрд╛ (рдбреАрдкреАрдЯреА) рдХреЛ рд╣рд░рд╛рдХрд░ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдкрд░ рдХрдмреНрдЬрд╛ рдХрд░ рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ред рдкреАрдбреАрдкреА рдХреЛ┬а35┬ардФрд░ рдбреАрдкреАрдЯреА рдХреЛ┬а12┬ард╡реЛрдЯ рдорд┐рд▓реЗред рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ┬а31┬ардордИ рдХреЛ рд╣реБрдП рдкреНрд░рд╛рдердорд┐рдХ рдЪреБрдирд╛рд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдбреАрдкреАрдЯреА рдХреЛ┬а33┬ардФрд░ рдкреАрдбреАрдкреА рдХреЛ┬а12┬ард╕реАрдЯреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рд╕рдлрд▓рддрд╛ рдорд┐рд▓реА рдереАред рдЖрд╢реНрдЪрд░реНрдп рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рд╣реИ рдХрд┐┬а31┬ардордИ рд╕реЗ┬а13┬ардЬреБрд▓рд╛рдИ рдХреЗ рдмреАрдЪ рдпрд╛рдиреА рдорд╣рдЬ рдбреЗреЭ рдорд╣реАрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдЕрдВрджрд░ рдРрд╕рд╛ рдХреНрдпрд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рдЬрд┐рд╕рд╕реЗ рдбреАрдкреАрдЯреА рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдЬрдирд╛рдзрд╛рд░ рдЦреЛ рдмреИрдареА рдФрд░ рдкреАрдбреАрдкреА рдХреЛ рдХрд╛рдордпрд╛рдмреА рдорд┐рд▓ рдЧрдпреАред
рджрд░рдЕрд╕рд▓ рдЙрд╕ рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдЬреБрд▓рд╛рдИ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рдердо рд╕рдкреНрддрд╛рд╣ рдореЗрдВ рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдиреЗ рдХрд┐рд░реЛрд╕рд┐рди рддреЗрд▓ рдФрд░ рдХреБрдХрд┐рдВрдЧ рдЧреИрд╕ рдкрд░ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЛ рджреА рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдкрд░ рд░реЛрдХ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рджреАред рдпрд╣ рд░реЛрдХ рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рджреЗрд╢ рдордВрддреНрд░рд╛рд▓рдп рдХреЗ рдирд┐рд░реНрджреЗрд╢ рдкрд░ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдпреА рдЧрдпреАред рдбреАрдкреАрдЯреА рдХреЗ рдиреЗрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рддрддреНрдХрд╛рд▓реАрди рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рдЬрд┐рдЧреНрдореЗ рдерд┐рдирд▓реЗ рд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдирд╛рд░рд╛рдЬ рдЪрд▓ рд░рд╣реА рдереАред рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рдорд╛рдирдирд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рддрддреНрдХрд╛рд▓реАрди рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рдерд┐рдирд▓реЗ рдордирдорд╛рдиреЗ рдврдВрдЧ рд╕реЗ рд╡рд┐рджреЗрд╢ рдиреАрддрд┐ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдВрдЪрд╛рд▓рди рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред рдпрд╣рд╛рдВ рдзреНрдпрд╛рди рджреЗрдиреЗ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рд╣реИ рдХрд┐┬а1949┬ардХреА┬а'рднрд╛рд░рдд-рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдореИрддреНрд░реА рд╕рдВрдзрд┐'┬ардореЗрдВ рдЗрд╕ рдмрд╛рдд рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рд╛рд╡рдзрд╛рди рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╡рд┐рджреЗрд╢ рдиреАрддрд┐ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕рд▓рд╛рд╣ рдкрд░ рд╕рдВрдЪрд╛рд▓рд┐рдд рдХрд░реЗрдЧрд╛ред рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди┬а2007┬ардореЗрдВ рд╕рдВрдзрд┐ рдХреЗ рдирд╡реАрдХрд░рдг рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдЗрд╕ рдкреНрд░рд╛рд╡рдзрд╛рди рдХреЛ рд╣рдЯрд╛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ред рдРрд╕реА рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЛ рдЗрд╕ рдмрд╛рдд рдХреА рдЖрдЬрд╛рджреА рдереА рдХрд┐ рд╡рд╣ рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╡рд┐рджреЗрд╢ рдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреИрд╕реЗ рд╕рдВрдЪрд╛рд▓рд┐рдд рдХрд░реЗред рд╡реИрд╕реЗ,┬ардЕрд▓рд┐рдЦрд┐рдд рд░реВрдк рдореЗрдВ рдРрд╕реА рд╕рд╛рд░реА рд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛рдПрдВ рдмрдиреА рд░рд╣реАрдВ рдЬрд┐рдирд╕реЗ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рднреА рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВ рди рд╣реЛ,┬ард╡рд╣ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕рд▓рд╛рд╣ рдХреЗ рдмрдЧреИрд░ рд╡рд┐рджреЗрд╢ рдиреАрддрд┐ рдирд╣реАрдВ рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рдХрд░ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ред рд╣реБрдЖ рдпрд╣ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐┬а2012┬ардореЗрдВ рдмреНрд░рд╛рдЬреАрд▓ рдХреЗ рд░рд┐рдпреЛ рдж рдЬреЗрдиреЗрд░реЛ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХ рдЕрдВрддрд░реНрд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рд╕рдореНрдореЗрд▓рди рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рдерд┐рдирд▓реЗ рдиреЗ рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рддрддреНрдХрд╛рд▓реАрди рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рд╕реЗ рдПрдХ рдЕрдиреМрдкрдЪрд╛рд░рд┐рдХ рднреЗрдВрдЯ рдХрд░ рд▓реА рдереАред рдпрджреНрдпрдкрд┐ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХрд╛ рджреВрд╕рд░рд╛ рдкреЬреЛрд╕реА рдЪреАрди рд╣реА рд╣реИ рддреЛ рднреА рдЪреАрдиреА рдФрд░ рднреВрдЯрд╛рдиреА рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмреАрдЪ рдпрд╣ рдкрд╣рд▓реА рдореБрд▓рд╛рдХрд╛рдд рдереАред рдЗрд╕ рдореБрд▓рд╛рдХрд╛рдд рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд░реБрдЦ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдмрд░реНрджрд╕реНрдд рддрдмреНрджреАрд▓реА рдЖрдпреА рдФрд░ рдЙрд╕реЗ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рдХрд┐ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдЕрдм рдирд┐рдпрдВрддреНрд░рдг рд╕реЗ рдмрд╛рд╣рд░ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдиреЗ рдЪреАрди рд╕реЗ┬а15┬ардмрд╕реЗрдВ рднреА рд▓реА рдереАрдВ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕реЗ рднреА рднрд╛рд░рдд рдиреЗ рдкрд╕рдВрдж рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдерд╛ред
рдорд╛рдорд▓рд╛ рдХреЗрд╡рд▓ рдЪреАрди рд╕реЗ рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдз рддрдХ рд╣реА рд╕реАрдорд┐рдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рдерд╛ред рднрд╛рд░рдд рдпрд╣ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдЪрд╛рд╣рддрд╛ рдХрд┐ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рджреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рднрд┐рдиреНрди рджреЗрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдз рд╕реНрдерд╛рдкрд┐рдд рдХрд░реЗред┬а2008┬арддрдХ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЗ┬а22┬арджреЗрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд░рд╛рдЬрдирдпрд┐рдХ рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдз рдереЗ рдЬреЛ рдерд┐рдирд▓реЗ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░рд┐рддреНрд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдмреЭрдХрд░┬а53┬арддрдХ рдкрд╣реБрдВрдЪ рдЧрдПред рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЕрдм рддрдХ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдирдпрд┐рдХ рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдз рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИрдВ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЕрдм рднреВрдЯрд╛рди-рдЪреАрди рд╕реАрдорд╛ рд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рдж рджреЛ рджрд░реНрдЬрди рд╕реЗ рдЕрдзрд┐рдХ рдмреИрдардХреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рд╣рд▓ рд╣реЛ рдЪреБрдХрд╛ рд╣реИ рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рднрд╛рд░рдд рдЗрд╕ рдЖрд╢рдВрдХрд╛ рд╕реЗ рднреА рдШрдмрд░рд╛рдпрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдирдпрд┐рдХ рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдз рд╕реНрдерд╛рдкрд┐рдд рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рдПрдВрдЧреЗред рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдЪрд┐рдВрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдПрдХ рдХрд╛рд░рдг рдпрд╣ рднреА рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЕрдЧрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд (рд╕рд┐рдХреНрдХрд┐рдо) -рднреВрдЯрд╛рди-рдЪреАрди (рддрд┐рдмреНрдмрдд) рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрдзрд┐ рд╕реНрдерд▓ рдкрд░ рд╕реНрдерд┐рдд рдЪреБрдВрдмреА рдШрд╛рдЯреА рддрдХ рдЬрд┐рд╕ рджрд┐рди рдЪреАрди рдЕрдкрдиреА рдпреЛрдЬрдирд╛ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рд░реЗрд▓ рд▓рд╛рдЗрди рдмрд┐рдЫрд╛ рджреЗрдЧрд╛,┬арднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреА рд╡рд╣ рдордЬрдмреВрд░реА рд╕рдорд╛рдкреНрдд рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рдПрдЧреА рдЬреЛ рддреАрди рддрд░рдл рд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕реЗ рдШрд┐рд░реЗ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдкреИрджрд╛ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИред рдЙрд╕реЗ рдпрд╣ рдмрд╛рдд рднреА рдкрд░реЗрд╢рд╛рди рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реА рдереА рдХрд┐ рдерд┐рдирд▓реЗ рдХреА рдбреАрдкреАрдЯреА рдХреЛ рдмрд╣реБрдордд рдкреНрд░рд╛рдкреНрдд рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рдерд╛ рдЬрд┐рдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╡рд╣ рдЪреАрди рд╕рдорд░реНрдердХ рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдерд╛ред рдЗрд╕реА рдХреЛ рдзреНрдпрд╛рди рдореЗрдВ рд░рдЦрдХрд░ рдЪреБрдирд╛рд╡ рдХреА рддрд╛рд░реАрдЦ рд╕реЗ рдорд╣рдЬ рджреЛ рд╕рдкреНрддрд╛рд╣ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдмрдВрдж рдХрд░ рджреА рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕ рдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд░ рднреВрдЯрд╛рдиреА рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЛ рд╕рдВрджреЗрд╢ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЕрдЧрд░ рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдерд┐рдирд▓реЗ рдХреЛ рджреБрдмрд╛рд░рд╛ рдЬрд┐рддрд╛рдпрд╛ рддреЛ рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдордиреЗ рдЧрдВрднреАрд░ рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рдкреИрджрд╛ рд╣реЛ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИред рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдХрджрдо рдХреЛ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреА рдПрдХ рдмрд╣реБрдд рдмреЬреА рдЖрдмрд╛рджреА рдиреЗ┬а'рдмрд╛рдВрд╣ рдорд░реЛреЬрдиреЗ рдХреА рдХрд╛рд░реНрд░рд╡рд╛рдИ рдорд╛рдирд╛'ред
рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдХрджрдо рдкрд░ рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рдХреЗ рдмреНрд▓рд╛рдЧреЛрдВ,┬ардмреЗрд╡рд╕рд╛рдЗрдЯреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рд╕реЛрд╢рд▓ рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рднрд┐рдиреНрди рд░реВрдкреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рддреАрдЦреА рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рджреЗрдЦрдиреЗ рдХреЛ рдорд┐рд▓реАред рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдЕрддреНрдпрдВрдд рд▓реЛрдХрдкреНрд░рд┐рдп рдмреНрд▓реЙрдЧрд░ рдФрд░ рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ-рдорд╛рдиреЗ рдмреБрджреНрдзрд┐рдЬреАрд╡реА рд╡рд╛рдВрдЧрдЪрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдВрдЧреЗ рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдмреНрд▓реЙрдЧ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛┬а'рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рд╣рд┐рддреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдзреБрди рдкрд░ рд╣рдореЗрд╢рд╛ рдирд╛рдЪрддреЗ рд░рд╣рдиреЗ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рд╕реЗ рдКрдкрд░ рдЙрдардирд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ред рд╣рдо рдХреЗрд╡рд▓ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЕрдЪреНрдЫреЗ рдкреЬреЛрд╕реА рд╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рдмрд▓реНрдХрд┐ рдЕрдЪреНрдЫреЗ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╕рдиреАрдп рдорд┐рддреНрд░ рднреА рд╣реИрдВред рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдпрд╣ рднреА рд╕рдЪ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╣рдо рдПрдХ рд╕рдВрдкреНрд░рднреБ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рд╣реИрдВ рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рд╣рд┐рдд рдорд╣рдЬ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЛ рдЦреБрд╢ рд░рдЦрдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛрдирд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣рд┐рдПред рд╣рдореЗрдВ рдЦреБрдж рдХреЛ рднреА рдЦреБрд╢ рд░рдЦрдирд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ред'┬ардЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЗрд╕реА рдмреНрд▓реЙрдЧ рдореЗрдВ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдпрд╣ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдЙрдард╛рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдз рд░рдЦрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЛ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВ рджрдВрдбрд┐рдд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ рдХрд┐┬а'рдХреМрди рд╕рд╛ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рдиреЗрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдХреМрди рд╕реА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдЖрддреНрдорд╛ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рджреВрд╕рд░реЗ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рд╣рд╛рде рдЧрд┐рд░рд╡реА рд░рдЦ рджреЗрддреА рд╣реИ?┬ард╣рдо рдХреЛрдИ рдкреЗрдб рд╕реЗрдХреНрд╕ рд╡рд░реНрдХрд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИрдВ рдЬреЛ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдорд╛рд▓рд┐рдХреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЗрдЪреНрдЫрд╛ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рдЖрдВрдЦреЗрдВ рдордЯрдХрд╛рдПрдВ рдФрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдирд┐рддрдВрдмреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рд╣рд┐рд▓рд╛рдПрдВред'┬ардбреЙ. рдХрд░реНрдорд╛ рдиреЗ рднреА рдерд┐рдВрдкреВ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рд╕рдорд╛рд░реЛрд╣ рдореЗрдВ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдирд╛рд░рд╛рдЬрдЧреА рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛рд░рдг рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдЪреАрди рд╕реЗ рд╣рд╛рде рдорд┐рд▓рд╛рдиреЗ рдХреЛ рдмрддрд╛рдпрд╛ рдерд╛ред
рдмрд╣рд░рд╣рд╛рд▓ рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдмрдВрдж рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рд░ рдпрд╣ рд╣реБрдЖ рдХрд┐ рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЛ рднрдпрдВрдХрд░ рджрд┐рдХреНрдХрддреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЧреБрдЬрд░рдирд╛ рдкреЬрд╛ рд▓рд┐рд╣рд╛рдЬрд╛ рдерд┐рдирд▓реЗ рдХреА рдкрд╛рд░реНрдЯреА рдбреАрдкреАрдЯреА рдЪреБрдирд╛ рд╣рд╛рд░ рдЧрдпреА рдФрд░ рдореМрдЬреВрджрд╛ рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рд╢реЗрд░рд┐рдВрдЧ рддреЛрдмреЛ рдХреА рдкреАрдбреАрдкреА рдХреЛ рдХрд╛рдордпрд╛рдмреА рдорд┐рд▓реАред
рдЙрдкрд░реЛрдХреНрдд рдШрдЯрдирд╛рдПрдВ рдЙрд╕ рд╕рдордп рдХреА рд╣реИрдВ рдЬрдм рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдпрд╣рд╛рдВ рдХреЗрдиреНрджреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдордирдореЛрд╣рди рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдХреЗ рдиреЗрддреГрддреНрд╡ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рдпреВрдкреАрдП рдХреА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдереАред┬а2014┬ардореЗрдВ рдПрдирдбреАрдП рдХреА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдмрдиреА рдФрд░ рдирд░реЗрдиреНрджреНрд░ рдореЛрджреА рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рдкрдж рдкрд░ рдЖрд╕реАрди рд╣реБрдПред рдЗрд╕ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдиреЗ рдЙрд╕реА рдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЛ,┬ардЬреЛ рдордирдореЛрд╣рди рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдХреЗ рд╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рдмрд▓реНрдХрд┐ рдЗрдВрджрд┐рд░рд╛ рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдХреЗ рд╕рдордп рд╕реЗ рдЪрд▓реА рдЖ рд░рд╣реА рдереА,┬ардФрд░ рднреА рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдЖрдХреНрд░рд╛рдордХ рдврдВрдЧ рд╕реЗ рд▓рд╛рдЧреВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ред
рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рдПрдХ рдбреЗреЭ рдорд╣реАрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд-рднреВрдЯрд╛рди-рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рдЖрдкрд╕реА рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдзреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдЬреЛ рдЬрдЯрд┐рд▓рддрд╛ рдкреИрджрд╛ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИ рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдореВрд▓ рдореЗрдВ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХрд╛ рд╡рд╣ рднрдп рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХрд╣реАрдВ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рд╣рд╛рде рд╕реЗ рдирд┐рдХрд▓ рдХрд░ рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рдХрд░реАрдм рди рдкрд╣реБрдВрдЪ рдЬрд╛рдпред рдЖрдЬ рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдпрд╣ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЪреБрдВрдмреА рдШрд╛рдЯреА рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдЗрд▓рд╛рдХреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдпрд╛рдиреА рдбреЛрдХрд▓рд╛рдо рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдм рдЪреАрди рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╕реИрдирд┐рдХ рдЖрдордиреЗ-рд╕рд╛рдордиреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рджреЗрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреЗрддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреА рдорд╛рдореВрд▓реА рд╕реА рдХреВрдЯрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рдЪреВрдХ рдПрдХ рдпреБрджреНрдз рдХрд╛ рд░реВрдк рд▓реЗ рд╕рдХрддреА рд╣реИред рдЪреАрди рдЙрд╕ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рд╕реЬрдХ рдмрдирд╛рдирд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдЬреЛ рдЙрд╕рдХрд╛ рд╣реА рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рд╣реИ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рднрд╛рд░рдд рд▓рдЧрд╛рддрд╛рд░ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдкрд░ рдпрд╣ рджрдмрд╛рд╡ рдбрд╛рд▓ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╡рд╣ рдЙрд╕ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдкрд░ рджрд╛рд╡рд╛ рдХрд░реЗ рдФрд░ рдЪреАрди рдХреЛ рд╕реЬрдХ рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рд░реЛрдХреЗред рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЛ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рджреВрд░рдЧрд╛рдореА рджреГрд╖реНрдЯрд┐ рд╕реЗ рдлрд╛рдпрджрд╛ рд╣реА рд╣реИ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рднрд╛рд░рдд рдЗрд╕реЗ рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╕реБрд░рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЦрддрд░рд╛ рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рд╣реИред рдЕрдм рджрд┐рдХреНрдХрдд рдпрд╣ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рд┐рдХреНрдХрд┐рдо (рднрд╛рд░рдд) рдФрд░ рддрд┐рдмреНрдмрдд (рдЪреАрди) рдХреЗ рдмреАрдЪ рдбреЛрдХрд▓рд╛рдо рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдВрддрд░реНрд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рд╕реАрдорд╛ рдХрд╛ рдмрд╣реБрдд рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рдирд┐рд░реНрдзрд╛рд░рдг рд╣реЛ рдЪреБрдХрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рдж рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред┬а1980┬ардХреЗ рджрд╢рдХ рдореЗрдВ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдФрд░ рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рдмреАрдЪ рдмрд╛рддрдЪреАрдд рдХреЗ┬а24┬арджреМрд░ рдЪрд▓реЗ рдФрд░ рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рджреЗрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмреАрдЪ рднреА рд╕реАрдорд╛ рдХрд╛ рдирд┐рд░реНрдзрд╛рд░рдг рд▓рдЧрднрдЧ рдкреВрд░рд╛ рд╣реИред рдпрд╣ рдмрд╛рдд рдЕрд▓рдЧ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдлрд┐рд▓рд╣рд╛рд▓ рдЬрд┐рд╕ рдЗрд▓рд╛рдХреЗ рдХреЛ рд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рдж рдХрд╛ рд░реВрдк рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдЙрд╕рдореЗрдВ рдЪреАрди рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕реЗ рдХреА рдХреБрдЫ рд╕реМ рдЧрдЬ рдЬрдореАрди рдЪрд╛рд╣рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдмрджрд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рднреА рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдЬрдореАрди рдХрд┐рд╕реА рджреВрд╕рд░реЗ рдЗрд▓рд╛рдХреЗ рдореЗрдВ рджреЗрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рд╣реИред рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдкреНрд░рд╕реНрддрд╛рд╡ рд╕реЗ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЛ рднреА рдХреЛрдИ рдЖрдкрддреНрддрд┐ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рджрдмрд╛рд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдкреНрд░рд╕реНрддрд╛рд╡ рдХреЛ рдорд╛рдирдиреЗ рдкрд░ рдЕрднреА рддрдХ рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╕рд╣рдорддрд┐ рдирд╣реАрдВ рджреА рд╣реИред рдЕрдЧрд░ рдЪреАрди рдХреЛ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рд╕реЗ рдпрд╣ рдЕрддрд┐рд░рд┐рдХреНрдд рдЬрдореАрди рдирд╣реАрдВ рднреА рдорд┐рд▓рддреА рд╣реИ рддреЛ рднреА рдЕрднреА рдЬреЛ рдЬрдореАрди рд╣реИ рд╡рд╣ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЪреАрди рдХреА рд╣реА рдЬрдореАрди рд╣реИред рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХрд╛ рдорд╛рдирдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЕрдЧрд░ рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рдЪреАрди рдиреЗ рдХреЛрдИ рдирд┐рд░реНрдорд╛рдг рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рддреЛ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рд╕рд┐рдХреНрдХрд┐рдо рдХреЗ рдирд┐рдХрдЯ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕реБрд░рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рдХреЛ рдЦрддрд░рд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ред рдЪреАрди рдиреЗ рддрдорд╛рдо рджреЗрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрджреВрддреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЕрд▓рдЧ-рдЕрд▓рдЧ рдФрд░ рд╕рд╛рдореВрд╣рд┐рдХ рддреМрд░ рдкрд░ рд╕рднреА рдирдХреНрд╢реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рджрд╕реНрддрд╛рд╡реЗрдЬреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛рддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдпрд╣ рд╕рдордЭрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рд╢ рдХреА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдпрд╣ рдЬрдЧрд╣ рдирд┐рд░реНрд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рдж рд░реВрдк рд╕реЗ рдЙрд╕рдХреА рд╣реИред рдЕрдм рдРрд╕реА рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдордиреЗ рдПрдХ рдЧрдВрднреАрд░ рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛ рдкреИрджрд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИред рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд╕реИрдирд┐рдХ рд╕реАрдорд╛ рдкрд░ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдпрд╛рдиреА рд╕рд┐рдХреНрдХрд┐рдо рдХреЗ рдкрд╛рд╕ рддреИрдирд╛рдд рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдП рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдореЗрдВ рднреА рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕реИрдирд┐рдХ рдЪреАрди рдХреА рддрд░рдл рдЕрдкрдиреА рдмрдВрджреВрдХреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдирд┐рд╢рд╛рдирд╛ рд╕рд╛рдзреЗ рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рдмреИрдареЗ рд╣реИрдВред рд╕реНрдорд░рдгреАрдп рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреА рд╢рд╛рд╣реА рд╕реЗрдирд╛ рдХреЛ рд╕реИрдирд┐рдХ рдкреНрд░рд╢рд┐рдХреНрд╖рдг рджреЗрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдирд╛рдо рдкрд░ рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рдХрдИ рджрд╢рдХреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕реЗрдирд╛ рдореМрдЬреВрдж рд╣реИред
рдЪреАрди рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рджреЗрд╢реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЙрдЪреНрдЪ рд░рд╛рдЬрдирдпрд┐рдХ рд╕реНрддрд░ рдкрд░ рд╣рд▓рдЪрд▓ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛рдпреА рджреЗ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИред рддрдорд╛рдо рд╡рд┐рд╢реЗрд╖рдЬреНрдЮреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдорд╛рдирдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдорд╛рдзрд╛рди рдмрд╛рддрдЪреАрдд рдХреЗ рдЬрд░рд┐рдП рд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рдЕрдЧрд░ рдпреБрджреНрдз рдЬреИрд╕реА рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдиреЗ рддреАрд╡реНрд░ рд░реВрдк рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рддреЛ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рджреЗрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдиреБрдХрд╕рд╛рди рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ред рд╢реБрд░реБрдЖрддреА рдЪрд░рдг рдореЗрдВ рд░рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рдордВрддреНрд░рд╛рд▓рдп рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛рд░реНрдпрднрд╛рд░ рд╕рдВрднрд╛рд▓ рд░рд╣реЗ рдЕрд░реБрдг рдЬреЗрдЯрд▓реА рдиреЗ рдЬреЛ рдмрдпрд╛рди рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐''рдпрд╣┬а1962┬ардХрд╛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ''┬ардФрд░ рдлрд┐рд░ рдЬрд╡рд╛рдм рдореЗрдВ рдЪреАрди рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдореБрдЦрдкрддреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдЬреЛ рднреЬрдХрд╛рдК рд▓реЗрдЦ рдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд╢рд┐рдд рдХрд┐рдП рдЙрд╕рд╕реЗ рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдХрд╛рдлреА рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрдлреЛрдЯрдХ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреА рдереА рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд╕рдореВрдЪреЗ рдорд╛рдорд▓реЗ рдкрд░ рдЬреЛ рдЕрдВрддрд░реНрд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛рдпреА рджреЗ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдЙрд╕рд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЛ рдПрд╣рд╕рд╛рд╕ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЕрдЧрд░ рддрдирд╛рд╡ рдиреЗ рдпреБрджреНрдз рдХрд╛ рд░реВрдк рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рддреЛрдВ рдХрд╣реАрдВ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдЕрд▓рдЧрд╛рд╡ рдореЗрдВ рди рдкреЬ рдЬрд╛рдП рдФрд░ рдпрд╣ рдиреБрдХрд╕рд╛рдирджреЗрд╣ рди рд╕рд╛рдмрд┐рдд рд╣реЛред
26┬ардЬреБрд▓рд╛рдИ рдХреЛ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рд╕реБрд░рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рд╕рд▓рд╛рд╣рдХрд╛рд░ рдЕрдЬрд┐рдд рдбреЛрднрд╛рд▓ рдЬреА-20┬ардХреЗ рд╕рдореНрдореЗрд▓рди рдореЗрдВ рднрд╛рдЧ рд▓реЗрдиреЗ рдЪреАрди рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рд╣реЛ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рд╕реАрдорд╛ рдкрд░ рдореМрдЬреВрдж рддрдирд╛рд╡ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХреБрдЫ рдареЛрд╕ рдмрд╛рддрдЪреАрдд рд╣реЛ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдЙрдмрд░рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рд░рд╛рд╕реНрддрд╛ рдирд┐рдХрд▓реЗред рднрд╛рд░рдд рдФрд░ рдЪреАрди рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдЕрдЧрд░ рдЗрд╕реЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд╖реНрдард╛ рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рд╢реНрди рдмрдирд╛ рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рддреЛ рдпрд╣ рд╕рдореВрдЪреЗ рджрдХреНрд╖рд┐рдг рдПрд╢рд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдПрдХ рдЦрддрд░рдирд╛рдХ рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдХреЛ рдЬрдиреНрдо рджреЗрдЧрд╛ред
1.┬ардЗрд╕ рдЗрд▓рд╛рдХреЗ рдХреЛ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди┬а'рдбреЛрдХрд▓рд╛рдо',┬арднрд╛рд░рдд┬а'рдбреЛрдХ рд▓рд╛'┬ардФрд░ рдЪреАрди┬а'рдбреЛрдВрдЧрд▓рд╛рдЩ'┬ардХрд╣рддрд╛ рд╣реИред┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а(19 рдЬреБрд▓рд╛рдИ 2017)
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RSS intends to Kill Rabindranath,the dead poet walking live after Gandhi! RSS is greater threat than any foreign invasion because it is killing Indian civilization and the history of India and not to mention the traditional Hindu religion so democrat and tolerant! Hindutva brigaed seems to be admant to wipe out Bengali nationalism,Bengali identity and Bengali connectivity with the universe and civilization.Without Rabindranath neither Bengal nor Bangaldesh may have any identity whatsoever. May we imagine Hindi without Urdu words?If Hindi is to be yet another gomata,the sacred cow,how it would include the non Hindi non Hindu demography to become national or global language, Batra may not be expected to have the vision. Palash Biswas
RSS intends to Kill Rabindranath,the dead poet walking live after Gandhi!
RSS is greater threat than any foreign invasion because it is killing Indian civilization and the history of India and not to mention the traditional Hindu religion so democrat and tolerant!
Hindutva brigade seems to be adamant to wipe out Bengali nationalism,Bengali identity and Bengali connectivity with the universe and civilization.Without Rabindranath neither Bengal nor Bangaldesh may have any identity whatsoever.
May we imagine Hindi without Urdu words?If Hindi is to be yet another gomata,the sacred cow,how it would include the non Hindi non Hindu demography to become national or global language, Batra may not be expected to have the vision.
Palash Biswas
Dina Nath Batra again: He wants Tagore, Urdu words off school texts.Mind you,Dinanath Batra is a retired school teacher and the founder of educational activist organisations Shiksha Bachao Andolan Samiti and Shiksha Sanskriti Utthan.
Bengal is flodded. It is raining heavily for three days and It would be raining heavily for next 48 hours.Kolakata and Howrah waterlogged. Rest of Bengal is also waterlogged.
But Hindutva brigade seems to be adamant to wipe out Bengali nationalism,Bengali identity and Bengali connectivity with the universe and civilization.
Without Rabindranath neither Bengal nor Bangaldesh may have any identity whatsoever.
Not only Bengalies worldwide,the citizens of Indian civilization owe much to Rabindranath for his idea of India which is all about unity in diversity and humanity ultimate.
It is perhaps the greatest attack on Indian civilization after the demise of Mohanjodaro and Harrapaa.Greater than the foreign attack against the integrity and unity of Indian humanity because it is going to disintegrate the social fabrics to make in digital Hindu Nation.It would kill Indian Nation, its constitution and Secular democracy,Unity in diversity.It is the agenda of racist ethnic cleansing in digital corporate Hindu Nation as majority people are subjected to monopolistic Racist Genocide.
It is borgi attack all round yet again as Along with five pages of recommendations, the Nyas, headed by Dina Nath Batra, a former head of Vidya Bharati, the education wing of the RSS, has attached pages from several NCERT textbooks, with the portions that it wants removed marked and underlined.
We may hate English just because the history of British Imperialist Raj in India.But the fact remains that English remains most inclusive.Even now,in free India,we have to interact in English to touch every corner of India.
We may not interact with rest of humanity without English.English diction has included every foreign sound meaning something different and we have words from south Asia abundant in English.It also included French, Roman, Latin, German ┬аwith other European languages as well as African and Latin American dialects.
English is enhanced by a number of Indian writers.While English writers contribute English from every part of India.
How many Non Hindi language Indian writers and poets have been included in Hindi literature?
We talk so mush so for making Hindi National language.The slogan for Hindu nation is Hindu,Hindi and Hindustan.We want to compete with English making Hindi a global language.
May we imagine Hindi without Urdu words?
If Hindi is to be yet another gomata, the sacred cow,how it would include the non Hindi non Hindu demography to become national or global language, Batra mayenot be expected to have the vision.
Have we?
Rabindra Nath compoesed Natinal anthem of India and Bangaldesh freedom struggle inspired by his poem Amaar Sonar Bangla aami tomay Bhalobasi,which is finally the national anthem of Bangladesh.Indian traditional philosophy,its culture,folk and spritualism have been the theme of Rabindra works more tahn any one else.
Geetanjali is all about India,Indian philosophy of life and Indian nationalism which consists of diverse streams of humanities merged on the soil of Bharat Teerth.
Now,the worshippers of Godse, Golvalkar, Savarkar and Hitler intend to Kill Rabindranath,the dead poet walking live in every sphere of India civilization after they killed someone like Gandhi who united Indian people in freedom struggle against British rule.
RSS is greater threat than any foreign invasion because it is killing Indian civilization and the history of India and not to mention the traditional Hindu religion so democrat and tolerant!
An education body affiliated to ruling BJP's ideological parent RSS wants to "sanitise" NCERT's Class 1-12 Hindi textbooks by removing Urdu and Persian words.
The Shiksha Sanskriti Utthan Nyas, under RSS ideologue Dinanath Batra, also wants to remove verses of Mirza Ghalib and other Urdu poets from the books.
RSS activist Dinanath Batra, who heads the Shiksha Sanskriti Utthan Nyas, has sent recommendations to the NCERT to remove some portions of school textbooks.
These recommendations include removal of English, Urdu and Arabic words, references to Mughal emperors as generous, former Prime Minister Manmohan Singh's apology over the 1984 riots, and the sentence that around 2000 Muslims were allegedly killed in the Gujarat riots, according to the┬аIndian Express.
The Nyas has sent about five pages of such recommendations along with pages from the NCERT books with highlighted portions of what to remove, the report says. Atul Kothari, Nyas's secretary and former RSS missionary told IE that this kind of content in textbooks was a sort of appeasement and it was uninspiring to teach children about riots. He said that histories of Indian kings like Shivaji and Maharana Pratap, Hindu monk Vivekananda and Indian nationalist Subhas Chandra Bose do not find such a place in the textbooks.
Earlier, Nyas had campaigned for the removal of A K Ramanujan's essay Three Hundred Ramayanas: Five Examples and Three Thoughts on Translation from the University of Delhi's syllabus. It had also moved court to demand removal of The Hindus by Wendy Doniger.
Nyas has marked portions from textbooks for their removal. For instance, from Class XII Political Science book, Nyas wants the mention of National Conference of J&K as a secular organisation removed.
With the NCERT revising its textbooks, the Nyas has written to the government to "clean" Hindi books of words such as Eeman, Rujhan, Shiddat and Taaqat.
The organisation has come up with a booklet, a copy of which is with DNA, in which it has mentioned various examples from the books. One of the examples is a verse of Ghalib, which is taught to students in one of the Hindi chapters.┬а
The verse, from Jamun Ka Ped, reads: "Hum ne mana ki tagaful na karoge lekin khak ho jayenge ham tum ko khabar hone taq."┬а
Dinanath Batra, who is often criticised for "saffronising" education, has in the past also written to the government to change content in texts, specially History ones.
He has been advocating that the use of foreign languages in schools should be banned. In his suggestions to the government on the New Education Policy, he had written that Hindi should be made the medium of instruction, instead of English.
"I have read all Hindi textbooks from Class 1 to 12 and found a number of errors. The usage of Urdu, Persian and even English words in Hindi books has made the language very heavy and created a challenge for students. Instead of being a source of entertainment and learning, Hindi chapters have become uninteresting for students," Batra told DNA.
"We have approached the HRD Ministry and have also been taking up this issue with NCERT that they should remove all non-Hindi words from their Hindi textbooks. Now that they are revising their textbooks, we have demanded that these changes should be made," he added.
He said that his earlier suggestions of changes in History textbooks were considered but it's the changes in Hindi that the council is not ready to change.
NCERT officials refused to comment on the issue.
Indian Express reports this morning:Remove English, Urdu and Arabic words, a poem by the revolutionary poet Pash and a couplet by Mirza Ghalib; the thoughts of Rabindranath Tagore; extracts from painter M F Husain's autobiography; references to the Mughal emperors as benevolent, to the BJP as a "Hindu" party, and to the National Conference as "secular"; an apology tendered by former prime minister Manmohan Singh over the 1984 riots; and a sentence that "nearly 2,000 Muslims were killed in Gujarat in 2002". These are some of the many recommendations the RSS-affiliated Shiksha Sanskriti Utthan Nyas has sent to the National Council of Educational Research and Training (NCERT), which recently sought suggestions from the public on reviewing school textbooks of all classes.
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рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рдУрдмреАрд╕реА рдХрд╛рд░реНрдб рдФрд░ рдЬрдпрднреАрдо рдХрд╛рдорд░реЗрдб рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА ┬ард░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рдУрдмреАрд╕реА рдХрд╛рд░реНрдб рдФрд░ рдЬрдпрднреАрдо рдХрд╛рдорд░реЗрдб
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рд╡реАрдбрд┐рдпреЛрдГhttps://www.facebook.com/palashbiswaskl/videos/vb.100000552551326/1802125213149213/?type=2&theater
рдЕрдм рддрдХ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╡рд┐рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдХреА рд╕рд╛рд░реА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдУрдмреАрд╕реА рдХреНрд╖рддреНрд░рдкреЛрдВ рдХреА рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛рдмрдВрджреА рдХреА рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рдХреА рдЕрд╢реНрд╡рдореЗрдзреА рд╕реЗрдирд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдк рд░реЗрдд рдХреЗ рдХрд┐рд▓реЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рд╡рд╛реЯ рдХреБрдЫ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрдЬрд╛рддрд┐ рдФрд░ рдкрд╣рдЪрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд╡реЛрдЯрдмреИрдВрдХ рд╕рдореАрдХрд░рдг рд╕реЗ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реА рдЕрд╕реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдкрд╣рдЪрд╛рди рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХрд╛ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓рд╛ рдЕрд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИ,рдЗрд╕ рд╕рдЪ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдордирд╛ рдмрд╛рд░ рдмрд╛рд░ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдПрдХ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдПрдХ рдХреНрд╖рддреНрд░рдк рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдпрд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░ рдФрд░ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕рдЧрд╛рдд рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд╡реЛрдЯрдмреИрдВрдХ рд╕рдореАрдХрд░рдг рдХреА рдЗрд╕ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рдлрд╛рд╕рд┐рдЬреНрдо рдХреЗ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓реЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕реЛрдЪрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдмреА рд╣рдо рд▓рдЧрд╛рддрд╛рд░ рдЗрдВрдХрд╛рд░ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЛ рд╣реА рдордЬрдмреВрдд рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рдЧреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рдУрдмреАрд╕реА рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рдЯреНрд░рдВрдк рдХрд╛рд░реНрдб рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рд╣рдо рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдирдЬрд░рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╣реА рдиреАрддреАрд╢ рдХреБрдорд╛рд░ рдФрд░ рд▓рд╛рд▓реВ рдХрд╛ рдЧрдардмрдВрдзрди рдмрдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕ рдХрдерд┐рдд рдорд╣рд╛рдЧрдардмрдВрдзрди рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╡рдЬреВрдж рдиреАрддреАрд╢ рдХреБрдорд╛рд░ рдФрд░ рд╢рд░рдж рдпрд╛рджрд╡ рдЙрд╕реАрддрд░рд╣ рд╕рдВрдШрдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░рд┐рдВрджреЗ рдмрдиреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдореБрд▓рд╛рдпрдорд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдпрд╛рджрд╡редрдмрд┐рд╣рд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдЬреЛ рд╣реБрдЖ рдпрд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛,рдЙрд╕рдкрд░ рдЪреМрдВрдХреЗрдиреЗ рдХреА рдЧреБрдВрдЬрд╛рдЗрд╢ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрдореЗрдШрд╛рд▓рдп рд╕рдореЗрдд рдкреВрд░рдм рдФрд░ рдкреВрд░реНрд╡реЛрддреНрддрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд╣реА рдЕрдм рднрд╛рдЬрдкрд╛ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдмрдирдиреЗ рдХреА рджреЗрд░реА рд╣реИ,рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдХреЗрд╕рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╕реЗрдирд╛ рдордЬрдмреВрддреА рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рд╕рдВрднрд╛рд▓реЗ рд╣реБрдП рд╣реИредрдмрд┐рд╣рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдкрддрди рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдЬреАрдд рд▓реЗрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рд░реЛрдХрдирд╛ рдмреЗрд╣рдж рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╣рдо рдЕрдм рднреА рдЗрд╕ рд╕рдЪ рдХрд╛ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓рд╛ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЛ рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдиреАрддреАрд╢ рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рд░реЛрдирд╛ рдЧрд╛рдирд╛ рдмрдВрдж рдХрд░рдХреЗ рд╕рдЪ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдордирд╛ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреА рдкрд╣рд▓ рддреЛ рдХрд░реЗрдВред
рдЕрд╕реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдкрд╣рдЪрд╛рди рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рддрд╣рдд рдХреНрд╖рддреНрд░рдкреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рдЧреБрдбрд╝ рдЧреЛрдмрд░ рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рдореЗрдВ ┬арднреА рдУрдмреАрд╕реА рдХреНрд╖рддреНрд░рдкреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд░реЛрд▓ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рднрдпрдВрдХрд░ рд╣реИредрдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдУрдмреАрд╕реА рдХрд╛рд░реНрдб рдХрд╛ рдЗрд╕реНрддреЗрдорд╛рд▓ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХрд┐рд╕ рддрд░рд╣ рдХрд░рддрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЗрд╕рдкрд░ рдЬрдп рднреАрдо рдХрд╛рдорд░реЗрдб,рдЖрдирдВрдж рдкрдЯрд╡рд░реНрдзрди рдХреА рдмрд╣реБрдЪрд░реНрдЪрд┐рдд рдлрд┐рд▓реНрдо рдФрд░ рдЫрд╛рддреНрд░ рдпреБрд╡рд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреА рдкреГрд╖реНрдарднреВрдорд┐ рдореЗрдВ рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рд╕рд╛рд▓ рд╣рдордиреЗ рдПрдХ рд╡реАрдбрд┐рдпреЛ рдЕрдкрд▓реЛрдб рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдерд╛редрдУрдмреАрд╕реА рджреЗрд╢ рдХреА рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реА рдЬрдирд╕рдВрдЦреНрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдЬреЛ рдмрдЬрд░рдВрдЧреА рдкреИрджрд▓ рд╕реЗрдирд╛ рдмрди рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕ рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЗрддрдиреА рднрд╛рд░реА рдХрд╛рдордпрд╛рдмреА рдорд┐рд▓ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИредрдиреАрддреАрд╢ рдХреБрдорд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдЗрд╕ рд╡рдХреНрдд рдЧрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдУрдмреАрд╕реА рдХрд╛рд░реНрдб рдореЗрдВ рддрдмреНрджреАрд▓ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдХреНрд╖рддреНрд░рдкреЛрдВ рдХреА рднреВрдорд┐рдХрд╛ рдкрд░ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдмреЗрд╣рдж рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдкрд╣рдЪрд╛рди рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рддрд┐рд▓рд┐рд╕реНрдо рдХреЛ рддреЛрдбрд╝рдХрд░ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рдХреА рдЬрдореАрди рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рдЙрд╕рд╕реЗ рднреА рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕ рдмрд╣рд╕ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдореИрдВ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рд╡рд╣ рдкреБрд░рд╛рдирд╛ рд╡реАрдбрд┐рдпреЛ рдЬреЛ рдкреВрд░реЗ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЛ рд╕рдВрдмреЛрдзрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЕрдВрдЧреНрд░реЗрдЬреА рдореЗрдВ рд╣реИ,рдЖрдЬ рдлреЗрд╕рдмреБрдХ рдкрд░ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реВрдВред
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рдлрд┐рд░ рджрд░реНрдж рд╣реЛрддрд╛ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдЪреАрдЦрдирд╛ рдордЬрдмреВрд░реА рднреА рд╣реИред
рдлрд┐рд░ рджрд░реНрдж рд╣реЛрддрд╛ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдЪреАрдЦрдирд╛ рдордЬрдмреВрд░реА рднреА рд╣реИред
рд╢рд╛рдпрдж рдЬрдм рддрдХ рдЬреАрддрд╛ рд░рд╣реВрдВрдЧреА рдореЗрд░реА рдЪреАрдЦреЗрдВ рдЖрдкрдХреЛ рддрдХрд▓реАрдл рджреЗрддреА рд░рд╣реЗрдВрдЧреА,рдЕрдлрд╕реЛрд╕ред
рдЬреЛ рдмрдЪреНрдЪреЗ 30-35 рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдХреА рдЙрдореНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рд╛рде рдкрд╛рдВрд╡ рдХрдЯреЗ рд▓рд╣реВрд▓реБрд╣рд╛рди рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЙрдирдореЗрдВ рд╕реЗ рд╣рд░реЗрдХ рдХреЗ рдЪреЗрд╣рд░реЗ рдкрд░ рдореИрдВ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рд╣реА рдЪреЗрд╣рд░рд╛ рдирддреНрдереА рдкрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реВрдВред
рдмрддреНрд░рд╛ рд╕рд╛рд╣реЗрдм рдХреА рдореЗрд╣рд░рдмрд╛рдиреА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдлрд╛рд╕рд┐рдЬреНрдо рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдорд╣рд╛рди рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЪрд┐рдиреНрд╣рд┐рдд рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛редрдЗрди рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рдЬреАрд╡рд┐рдд рдФрд░ рд╕рдХреНрд░рд┐рдп рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рдл рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдирдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рд╕реЗ рднреА рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдЙрдиреНрд╣реАрдВ рдореГрдд рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░реНрдпрдХреНрд░рдо рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреА рдЪреБрдкреНрдкреА рдЙрдирдХреА рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░рдзрд╛рд░рд╛,рдЙрдирдХреА рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдЕрднрд┐рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрдд рдХрд░рддреА рд╣реИред
рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдЗрд╕ рд╡рдХреНрдд рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдиреАрддреАрд╢ рдХреБрдорд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдмреЛрд▓ рд▓рд┐рдЦ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдХрд┐ рдмрд┐рд╣рд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рджрдВрдЧрд▓ рдХреА рджреЗрд╢ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдЬреНрд╡рд▓рдВрдд рдореБрджреНрджрд╛ рд╣реЛред
рдбреЛрдХрд▓рд╛рдо рдХреА рдпреБрджреНрдз рдкрд░рд┐рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐рдпрд╛рдВ, рдкреНрд░рд╛рдХреГрддрд┐рдХ рдЖрдкрджрд╛рдПрдВ,рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЖрддреНрдорд╣рддреНрдпрд╛,рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкрдХ рдЫрдВрдЯрдиреА рдФрд░ рдмреЗрд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░реА, рджрд╛рд░реНрдЬрд┐рдВрд▓рд┐рдВрдЧ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рд┐рдВрд╕рд╛, рдХрд╢реНрдореАрд░ рдХреА рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛, рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА, рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдЕрдирд┐рд╡рд╛рд░реНрдпрддрд╛, рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рд░ , рдЦреБрджрд░рд╛ рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░ рдкрд░ рдПрдХрд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡, рд╢рд┐рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рдФрд░ рдЪрд┐рдХрд┐рддреНрд╕рд╛ рдкрд░ рдПрдХрд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдХрдВрдкрдирд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡, рдмрдЪреНрдЪреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдирд┐рд╢реНрдЪрд┐рдд рднрд╡рд┐рд╖реНрдп, рдорд╣рд┐рд▓рд╛рдУрдВ рдкрд░ рдмрдврд╝рддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдЕрддреНрдпрд╛рдЪрд╛рд░,рджрд▓рд┐рдд рдЙрддреНрдкреАрдбрд╝рди рдХреА рдирд┐рд░рдВрддрд░рддрд╛,рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЕрд▓реНрдкрд╕рдВрдЦреНрдпрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдореБрджреНрджреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рдХреЛрдИ рдмрд╣рд╕ рдХреА рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдХреЛрдИ рдЧреБрдВрдЬрд╛рдЗрд╢ рд╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдЧреМрд░рддрд▓рдм рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдореБрдХреНрддрд┐рдмреЛрдз рдкрд░ рдЕрднреА рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдЬрд┐рд╣рд╛рджрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рдХреГрдкрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИредрд╢рд╛рдпрдж рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╕рдордЭрдирд╛ рд╣рд░ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдХреЗ рдмрд╕ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ,рдЧреЛрдмрд░рдкрдВрдерд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рддреЛ рд╡реЗ рдЕрдмреВрдЭ рд╣реА рд╣реИрдВред
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╕рдореАрдХрд░рдг рдФрд░ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╕рдВрдШрд░реНрд╖ рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд░реЛрдЬрдирд╛рдордЪрд╛ рд╣реЛ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИ,рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдпрд╣ рд░реЛрдЬрдирд╛рдордЪрд╛ рд╣реА рд╕рдореВрдЪрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдореЗрдВ рддрдмреНрджреАрд▓ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рдпреЗ,рддреЛ рд╢рд╛рдпрдж рд╕рдВрд╡рд╛рдж рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рдЧреБрдВрдЬрд╛рдЗрд╢ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдмрдЪрддреАредрдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреА рджрд┐рдирдЪрд░реНрдпрд╛,рдЙрдирдХреА рддрдХрд▓реАрдлреЛрдВ,рдЙрдирдХреА рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛рдУрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рджрд┐рд▓рдЪрд╕реНрдкреА рдирдЬрд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдЖрддреА рддреЛ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдФрд░ рдореБрджреНрджреЗ рдЬрд┐рди рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЬреБрдбрд╝реЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЙрдирдкрд░ рд╕рдВрд╡рд╛рдж рдХреА рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдмрдиреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдореБрджреНрджреЗ рдХрднреА рдиреАрддреАрд╢рдХреБрдорд╛рд░ рд╣реИрдВ рддреЛ рдХрднреА рд▓рд╛рд▓реВ рдкреНрд░рд╕рд╛рдж рддреЛ рдХрднреА рдЕрдЦрд┐рд▓реЗрд╢ рдпрд╛рджрд╡ рддреЛ рдХрднреА рдореБрд▓рд╛рдпрд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдпрд╛рджрд╡,рддреЛ рдХрднреА рдорд╛рдпрд╛рд╡рддреА рддреЛ рдХрднреА рдордорддрд╛ рдмрдирд░реНрдЬреАредрд╣рдо рдЙрдирдХреА рд╕рд┐рдпрд╛рд╕рдд рдХреЗ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рд╡рд┐рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдореЗрдВ рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рд╣реЛрдХрд░ рдлрд╛рд╕рд┐рдЬреНрдо рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рдХрд░рддреЗ рд░рд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдЗрд╕ рд╡рдХреНрдд рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдиреАрддреАрд╢ рдХреБрдорд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдмреЛрд▓ рд▓рд┐рдЦ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдХрд┐ рдмрд┐рд╣рд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рджрдВрдЧрд▓ рдХреА рджреЗрд╢ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдЬреНрд╡рд▓рдВрдд рдореБрджреНрджрд╛ рд╣реЛред
рдбреЛрдХрд▓рд╛рдо рдХреА рдпреБрджреНрдз рдкрд░рд┐рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐рдпрд╛рдВ, рдкреНрд░рд╛рдХреГрддрд┐рдХ рдЖрдкрджрд╛рдПрдВ,рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЖрддреНрдорд╣рддреНрдпрд╛,рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкрдХ рдЫрдВрдЯрдиреА рдФрд░ рдмреЗрд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░реА, рджрд╛рд░реНрдЬрд┐рдВрд▓рд┐рдВрдЧ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рд┐рдВрд╕рд╛, рдХрд╢реНрдореАрд░ рдХреА рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛, рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА, рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдЕрдирд┐рд╡рд╛рд░реНрдпрддрд╛, рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рд░ , рдЦреБрджрд░рд╛ рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░ рдкрд░ рдПрдХрд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡, рд╢рд┐рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рдФрд░ рдЪрд┐рдХрд┐рддреНрд╕рд╛ рдкрд░ рдПрдХрд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдХрдВрдкрдирд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡, рдмрдЪреНрдЪреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдирд┐рд╢реНрдЪрд┐рдд рднрд╡рд┐рд╖реНрдп, рдорд╣рд┐рд▓рд╛рдУрдВ рдкрд░ рдмрдврд╝рддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдЕрддреНрдпрд╛рдЪрд╛рд░,рджрд▓рд┐рдд рдЙрддреНрдкреАрдбрд╝рди рдХреА рдирд┐рд░рдВрддрд░рддрд╛,рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЕрд▓реНрдкрд╕рдВрдЦреНрдпрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдореБрджреНрджреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рдХреЛрдИ рдмрд╣рд╕ рдХреА рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдХреЛрдИ рдЧреБрдВрдЬрд╛рдЗрд╢ рд╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рдорддрд▓рдм рдпрд╣ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╛рдЧрд░рд┐рдХреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдирд┐рдзрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдиреАрддрд┐ рдирд┐рд░реНрдорд╛рдг рдкреНрд░рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреА рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕реЗрджрд╛рд░реАред
рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╕рдВрдШрд░реНрд╖ рддрдХ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рд╕реАрдорд╛рдмрджреНрдз рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ,рд░рд╛рдЬрдирдп,рдиреАрддрд┐ рдирд┐рд░реНрдорд╛рдг,рд╡рд┐рддреНрддреАрдп рдкреНрд░рдмрдВрдзрди,рд╕рдВрд╕рд╛рдзрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЙрдкрдпреЛрдЧ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЬреАрд╡рди рдорд░рдг рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рд╢реНрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рд╕рдВрдмреЛрдзрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рдкреНрд░рдпрд╛рд╕ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рднреА рд╕реНрддрд░ рдкрд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рд╕реЗ рдХрдЯреЗ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рд╣рдо рд╕рдмрдХреБрдЫ рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдирдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рд╕реЗ рджреЗрдЦрдиреЗ рдХреЛ рдЕрднреНрдпрд╕реНрдд рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рд╕реБрдзрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЛ рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рд╕рд░реНрд╡рджрд▓реАрдп рд╕рдорд░реНрдерди рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рдХреА рдХреАрдордд рдЬрд┐рд╕ рдмрд╣реБрд╕рдВрдЦреНрдп рдЬрдирдЧрдг рдХреЛ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЬрд▓ рдЬрдВрдЧрд▓ рдЬрдореАрди рд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рдЖрдЬреАрд╡рд┐рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдЧрд░рд┐рдХ рдФрд░ рдорд╛рдирд╡рд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдЦреЛрдХрд░ рдЪреБрдХрд╛рдиреА рдкрдбрд╝рддреА рд╣реИ,рдЙрд╕рдХреА рдкрд░рд╡рд╛рд╣ рди рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рди рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЛред
рд╣рдо рдЬрдм рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рднрдпрдВрдХрд░ рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рдХреЛ рдЪрд┐рдиреНрд╣рд┐рдд рдХрд░рдХреЗ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐рдХрд░реНрдо рдХреА рдкреНрд░рд╛рд╕рдВрдЧрд┐рдХрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдкрд░ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдЙрдард╛рдпреЗ,рддреЛ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЗрд╕рдХреА рддреАрд╡реНрд░ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИред
рдмрддреНрд░рд╛ рд╕рд╛рд╣реЗрдм рдХреА рдореЗрд╣рд░рдмрд╛рдиреА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдлрд╛рд╕рд┐рдЬреНрдо рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдорд╣рд╛рди рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЪрд┐рдиреНрд╣рд┐рдд рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ред
рдЗрди рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рдЬреАрд╡рд┐рдд рдФрд░ рд╕рдХреНрд░рд┐рдп рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рдл рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдирдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рд╕реЗ рднреА рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдЙрдиреНрд╣реАрдВ рдореГрдд рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░реНрдпрдХреНрд░рдо рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреА рдЪреБрдкреНрдкреА рдЙрдирдХреА рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░рдзрд╛рд░рд╛,рдЙрдирдХреА рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдЕрднрд┐рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрдд рдХрд░рддреА рд╣реИред
рдЧреМрд░рддрд▓рдм рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдореБрдХреНрддрд┐рдмреЛрдз рдкрд░ рдЕрднреА рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдЬрд┐рд╣рд╛рджрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рдХреГрдкрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИредрд╢рд╛рдпрдж рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╕рдордЭрдирд╛ рд╣рд░ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдХреЗ рдмрд╕ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ,рдЧреЛрдмрд░рдкрдВрдерд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рддреЛ рд╡реЗ рдЕрдмреВрдЭ рд╣реА рд╣реИрдВредрдЕрдЧрд░ рдХрд╛рдВрдЯреЗрдЯ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рд╣рд╛рдЬ рд╕реЗ рджреЗрдЦреЗрдВ рддреЛ рдлрд╛рд╕рд┐рдЬрдо рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдЦрддрд░рдирд╛рдХ рдореБрдХреНрддрд┐рдмреЛрдз рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧреАрдп рдзреНрд░реВрд╡реАрдХрд░рдг рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рдЕрдкрдиреА рдХрд╡рд┐рддрд╛рдУрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдЕрдВрдзреЗрд░рд╛ рдлрд╛рд╕рд┐рдЬреНрдо рдХрд╛ рдЕрдЦрдВрдб рдЖрддрдВрдХрд╛рдХрд╛рд░реА рдЪреЗрд╣рд░рд╛ рд╣реИредрд╢рд╛рдпрдж рдорд╣рд╛рдорд╣рд┐рдо рдмрддреНрд░рд╛ рдорд╣реЛрджрдп рдиреЗ рдЕрднреА рдореБрдХреНрддрдмреЛрдз рдХреЛ рдХрд╛рдпрджреЗ рд╕реЗ рдкрдврд╝рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдмрддреНрд░рд╛ рд╕рд╛рд╣реЗрдм рдХреА рдХреГрдкрд╛ рд╕реЗ рдЬреЛ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рд╣реИрдВ,рдЙрдирдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░,рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА,рдкреНрд░реЗрдордЪрдВрдж,рдкрд╛рд╢, рдЧрд╛рд▓рд┐рдм рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрдирд╛ рднреА рдЧреЛрдмрд░рдкрдВрдерд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЕрд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИред
рдЬрд┐рди рдЧреЛрд╕реНрд╡рд╛рдореА рддреБрд▓рд╕реАрджрд╛рд╕ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдордЪрд░рд┐рдд рдорд╛рдирд╕ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдорд░рд╛рдЬреНрдп рдФрд░ рдорд░реНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдкреБрд░реБрд╖реЛрддреНрддрдо рдХреЛ рдХреИрдВрджреНрд░рд┐рдд рдпрд╣ рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╕реБрдирд╛рдореА рд╣реИ,рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рднреА рд╡реЗ рдХрд┐рддрдирд╛ рд╕рдордЭрддреЗ рд╣реЛрдВрдЧреЗ,рдЗрд╕рдХрд╛ рднреА рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬрд╛ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдирд╛ рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИред
рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓реА рджрд┐рдирдЪрд░реНрдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреА рдЙрдкрд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдЕрдирд┐рд╡рд╛рд░реНрдп рд╕реА рд╣реИ, ┬ардЬрд╛рддрд┐, ┬ардзрд░реНрдо, ┬ард╡рд░реНрдЧ, рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░, рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдЕрд╡рд░реЛрдзреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЖрд░ рдкрд╛рд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛рднрд╛рд╖рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╕рд╛рд░реНрд╡рднреМрдо рд╣реИрдВ,рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓реА рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рд╣реА рд▓реЛрдЧ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдЬреАрд╡рди рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрддреЗ рд╣реЛрдВрдЧреЗ,рдРрд╕реА рдкреНрд░рддреНрдпрд╛рд╢рд╛ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИред
рдХрдмреАрд░ рджрд╛рд╕ рдФрд░ рд╕реВрд░рджрд╛рд╕ рд▓реЛрдХ рдореЗрдВ рд░рдЪреЗ рдмрд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реНрд╡рдЬрдиреАрди рдХрд╡рд┐ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЬрд┐рдирдХреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдпрддрд╛ рдХреА рдХрд▓реНрдкрдирд╛ рдЕрд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рд╣рд░ рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрд┐рдирдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рд░ рд╣реИред рдордзреНрдпрднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рддреЛ рдХрдмреАрд░ рдХреЛ рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рд╡реИрд╕реА рд╣реА рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рд╣реИ,рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЙрд╕реА рдордзреНрдпрднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдордЬрдмреВрдд рдЧрдврд╝ рдФрд░ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рд╣реИред
рдирд┐рдЬреА рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛рдУрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЙрд▓рдЭрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рдЗрдиреНрд╣реАрдВ рд╡рдЬрд╣реЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрдиреЗ рдкрдврд╝рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдФрдЪрд┐рддреНрдп рдкрд░ рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рдХреБрдЫ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рдХрд┐рдпреЗ рдереЗ,рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЗрд╕рдкрд░ рдХреЛрдИ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИред
рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рдХрдИ рджрд┐рдиреЛрдВ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛,рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдВрдХрд┐ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдХреБрдЫ рдмрджрд▓рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ.рдкреНрд░реЗрдордЪрдВрдж.рдЯреИрдЧреЛрд░,рдЧрд╛рд▓рд┐рдм,рдкрд╛рд╢,рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рдкрд╛рдмрдВрджреА рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдЬрдм рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдХреЛ рдХреЛрдИ рдлрд░реНрдХ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрдбрд╝рд╛ рддреЛ рд╣рдо рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрдиреЗ рди рд▓рд┐рдЦрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдЖрдк рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдХреЛрдИ рдлрд░реНрдХ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрдбрд╝рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓рд╛ рд╣реИредрдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХрд╛ рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рд╡рдзрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдЬрдм рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдпрд┐рдХ рдЧрддрд┐рд╡рд┐рдзрд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рдмрдВрдВрдж рдХрд░ рджреА,рдЬрдм 1970 рд╕реЗ рд▓рдЧрд╛рддрд╛рд░ рд▓рд┐рдЦрддреЗ рд░рд╣рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╡рдЬреВрдж рдЕрдЦрдмрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд┐рдЦрдирд╛ рдмрдВрдж рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ,рддрдм рд╕рд┐рд░реНрдл рд╕реЛрд╢рд▓ рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд┐рдЦрдиреЗ рди рд▓рд┐рдЦрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдХреЛ рдХреЛрдИ рдлреНрд░рдХ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрдбрд╝реЗрдЧрд╛ред
рдХрд▓реЗрдЬрд╛ рдЬрдЦреНрдореА рд╣реИредрджрд┐рд▓реЛрджрд┐рдорд╛рдЧ рд▓рд╣реВрд▓реБрд╣рд╛рди рд╣реИредрд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдд рд╕рдВрдЧреАрди рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдлрд┐рдЬрд╛рдВ рдЬрд╣рд░реАрд▓реАредрдРрд╕реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдм рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рд╕рдореВрдЪреА рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рдФрд░ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдкрд░ рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрджреА рд╣рдорд▓реЗ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░рдзрд╛рд░рд╛рдУрдВ,рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрджреНрдзрддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рдореЛрд░реНрдЯреЗ рдкрд░ рдЕрдЯреВрдЯ рд╕рдиреНрдирд╛рдЯрд╛ рд╣реИ,рддрдм рдРрд╢реЗ рд╕рдордп рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдкрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЖрд╡рд╛рдЬ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдпрд╛ рдпреВрдВ рд╣реА рдЪреАрдЦрддреЗ рдЪрд▓реЗ рдЬрд╛рдирд╛ рдХрд╛ рднреА рдХреЛрдИ рдорддрд▓рдм рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдЬрд┐рди рд╡рдЬрд╣реЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрддрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реВрдВ,рд╡реЗ рд╡рдЬрд╣реЗрдВ рддреЗрдЬреА рд╕реЗ рдЦрддреНрдо рд╣реЛрддреА рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИредрд╡рдЬреВрдж рдХрд┐рд░рдЪреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдорд╛рдирд┐рдВрдж рдЯреВрдЯрдХрд░ рдмрд┐рдЦрд░ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИредрдЬрд┐рдВрджрдЧреА рдЬреАрдирд╛ рдмрдВрдж рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣рддрд╛ рдлрд┐рд▓рд╣рд╛рд▓,рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдВрдХрд┐ рдЕрдм рд╕рд╛рдВрд╕реЗрдВ рд▓реЗрдирд╛ рднреА рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИредрд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЗрд╕ рджреБрд╕реНрд╕рдордп рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдм рд╕рдмрдХреБрдЫ рдЦрддреНрдо рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕ рджреЗрд╢ рдореЗрдВ рдирдкреБрдВрд╕рдХ рд╕рдиреНрдирд╛рдЯрд╛ рдХреА рдЕрд╡рд╕рд░рд╡рд╛рджреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рдХреБрдЫ рднреА рдмрдЪреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ,рддрдм рд╢рд╛рдпрдж рд▓рд┐рдЦрддреЗ рд░рд╣рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рдФрдЪрд┐рддреНрдпрднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рдпрд╣ рдХрд┐ рдЖрдВрдЦрд░ рдкрд╣рдЪрд╛рдирддреЗ рди рдкрд╣рдЪрд╛рдирддреЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рдЬрд╛рдирдиреЗ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╡рд┐рднрд╛рдЬрди рдХреЗ рд╢рд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдкреВрд░реНрд╡реА рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдФрд░ рдкрд╢реНрдЪрд┐рдо рдкрд╛рдХрд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рднрд╛рдЬрдирдкреАрдбрд╝рд┐рддреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдиреИрдиреАрддрд╛рд▓ рдХреА рддрд░рд╛рдИ рдореЗрдВ рдиреЗрддрд╛ рдореЗрд░реЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рдХреА рднрд╛рд░рдд рднрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдмрд┐рдЦрд░реЗ рд╢рд░рдгрд╛рд░реНрдерд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рджрд┐рди рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рджрд┐рди рдХреА рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд░реЛрдЬ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдкрддреНрд░ рд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╣рд╛рд░ рдФрд▒ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреЗ рдкрд░рдЪреЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрддреЗ рд░рд╣рдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдореЗрд░реА рдЬреЛ рд▓рд┐рдЦрдиреЗ рдкрдврд╝рдиреЗ рдХреА рдЖрджрдд рдмрдиреА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдХрд░реАрдм рдкрд╛рдВрдЪ рджрд╢рдХреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЬреЛ рд▓рдЧрд╛рддрд╛рд░ рд▓рд┐рдЦ рдкрдврд╝ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реВрдВ,рдЕрдм рд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдФрд░ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдХрдЯрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдШрд░ рдФрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдкрд╣рд╛рдбрд╝ рд╕реЗ рд╣рдЬрд╛рд░ рдореАрд▓ рджреВрд░ рдмреИрдареЗ рдореЗрд░реЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЬреАрдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рджреВрд╕рд░рд╛ рдмрд╣рд╛рдирд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдлрд┐рд░ рджрд░реНрдж рд╣реЛрддрд╛ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдЪреАрдЦрдирд╛ рдордЬрдмреВрд░реА рднреА рд╣реИред
рд╢рд╛рдпрдж рдЬрдм рддрдХ рдЬреАрддрд╛ рд░рд╣реВрдВрдЧреА рдореЗрд░реА рдЪреАрдЦреЗрдВ рдЖрдкрдХреЛ рддрдХрд▓реАрдл рджреЗрддреА рд░рд╣реЗрдВрдЧреА,рдЕрдлрд╕реЛрд╕ред
рдЕрднреА рдЕрдЦрдмрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд╛рдЦреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЫрдВрдЯрдиреА рдХреА рдЦрдмрд░реЗрдВ рдЖрдпреА рд╣реИрдВредрдЬрд┐рдирдХреЗ рдмрдЪреНрдЪреЗ рд╕реЗрдЯрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдмрдЪреНрдЪреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рдЧрд░реНрд╡ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдмрд╛рдХреА рдмрдЪреНрдЪреЛрдВ рдХреА рднреА рдереЛрдбрд╝реА рдЪрд┐рдВрддрд╛ рд╣реЛрддреА рддреЛ рд╢рд╛рдпрдж рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдд рдмрджрд▓ рдЬрд╛рддреЗред
рдореЗрд░реЗ рд▓рд┐рдП ┬ард░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рдЕрдирд┐рд╡рд╛рд░реНрдп рд╣реИ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рдореЗрд░рд╛ рдЗрдХрд▓реМрддрд╛ рдмреЗрдЯрд╛ рдЕрднреА рдмреЗрд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рдЬреЛ рдмрдЪреНрдЪреЗ 30-35 рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдХреА рдЙрдореНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рд╛рде рдкрд╛рдВрд╡ рдХрдЯреЗ рд▓рд╣реВрд▓реБрд╣рд╛рди рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЙрдирдореЗрдВ рд╕реЗ рд╣рд░реЗрдХ рдХреЗ рдЪреЗрд╣рд░реЗ рдкрд░ рдореИрдВ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рд╣реА рдЪреЗрд╣рд░рд╛ рдирддреНрдереА рдкрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реВрдВред
рдЕрднреА рд╕рд░реНрд╡реЗ рдЖ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдкрдВрджреНрд░рд╣ рд▓рд╛рдЦ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдмреЗрд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рдХрд╛ рдирддреАрдЬрд╛ рдЕрднреА рдЖрдпрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрдЕрд╕рдВрдЧрдард┐рдд рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рдЖрдВрдХрдбрд╝рд╛ рдЙрдкрд▓рдмреНрдз рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрдЧрдард┐рдд рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд┐рдирд┐рд╡реЗрд╢ рдФрд░ рдирд┐рдЬреАрдХрд░рдг рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдареЗрдХреЗ рдкрд░ рдиреМрдХрд░рд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рд╣реИрдВ рддреЛ рдареАрдХ рд╕реЗ рдкрддрд╛ рд▓рдЧрдирд╛ рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдХреБрд▓ рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреА рдиреМрдХрд░рд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рдмреИрдВрдХрд┐рдВрдЧ, рдмреАрдорд╛, рдирд┐рд░реНрдорд╛рдг, ┬ард╡рд┐рдирд┐рд░реНрдорд╛рдг, рдЦреБрджрд░рд╛ рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░,рд╕рдВрдЪрд╛рд░,рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╣рди рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд░реЛрдЬ рдЦрдереНрдо рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИред
рдорд╕рд▓рди рд░реЗрд▓рд╡реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рддреНрд░рд╣ рд▓рд╛рдЦ рдХрд░реНрдордЪрд╛рд░реА рд░реЗрд▓рд╡реЗ рдХреЗ рдЕрднреВрддрдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдЕрдм рдЧреНрдпрд╛рд░рд╣ рд▓рд╛рдЦ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдЬрд┐рдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдЪрд╛рд░ рд▓рд╛рдЦ рддрдХ рдШрдЯрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдирд┐рдЬреА рдЙрдкрдХреНрд░рдо рд░реЗрд▓рд╡реЗ рдХрд╛ рдЖрдзреБрдирд┐рдХреАрдХрд░рдг рд╣реИ,рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЖрдо рд▓реЛрдЧ рдЗрд╕ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдХреЗ рдорд╛рдбрд▓ рд╕реЗ рдЦреБрд╢ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рд╕рдорд░реНрдердХ рднреА рд╣реИрдВред
рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рдХрд┐рддрдирд╛ рдЧрд╣рд░рд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╣рдо рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЖрд╕рдкрд╛рд╕ рдХрд╛ рдирдЬрд╛рд░рд╛ рдереЛрдбрд╝рд╛ рдмрдпрд╛рди рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ 56 рд╣рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХрд▓ рдХрд╛рд░рдЦрд╛рдиреЗ рдмрдВрдж рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд╡рд▓ рдкрд░ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡реНрд░рддрди рдХреА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдмрдиреАредрдмрдВрдж рдХрд╛рд░рдЦрд╛рдиреЗ рддреЛ рдЦреБрд▓реЗ рд╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдХрд╛ рдкреАрдкреАрдкреА рдорд╛рдбрд▓ рдлрд╛рд░рдореВрд▓рд╛ рд▓рд╛рдЧреВ рд╣реИредрдХрдкрдбрд╝рд╛,рдЬреВрдЯ,рдЗрдВрдЬреАрдирд┐рдпрд░рд┐рдВрдЧ,рдЪрд╛рдп рдЙрджреНрдпреЛрдЧ рдардк рд╣реИредрдХрд▓ рдХрд╛рд░рдЦрд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЬрдореАрди рдкрд░ рддрдорд╛рдо рддрд░рд╣рдХреЗ рд╣рдм рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рддреЗрдЬреА рд╕реЗ рдмрд╛рдХреА рдХрд▓рдХрд╛рд░рдЦрд╛рдиреЗ рдмрдВрдж рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдЖрд╕рдкрд╛рд╕ рдХреЗ рдЙрддреНрдкрд╛рджрди рдЗрдХрд╛рдЗрдпреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдкрдЪрд╛рд╕ рдкрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рдиреМрдХрд░реА рд╕реЗ рд╣рдЯрд╛рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реЛредрдпреВрдкреА рдФрд░ рдЙрддреНрддрд░рд╛рдЦрдВрдб рдореЗрдВ рднреА рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдЗрд╕реА рддрд░реНрдЬ рдкрд░ рд╣реЛрдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдмрд┐рд╣рд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рдХреЗрд╕рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╕реБрд╢рд╛рд╕рди рдХрд╛ рдЕрдВрдЬрд╛рдо рднреА рдпрд╣реА рд╣реЛрдирд╛ рд╣реИред
рд╕рд┐рд░реНрдл рдЖрдИрдЯреА рдирд╣реАрдВ,рдмрд╛рдХреА рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕реМрдЬрдиреНрдп рд╕реЗ рддрдХрдиреАрдХреА рджрдХреНрд╖рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдйрдИ рддрдХрдиреАрдХ рдХреЗ рдмрд╣рд╛рдиреЗ рдПрдирдбреАрд╡реА рдХреА рддрд░реНрдЬ рдкрд░ 30-40 рдЖрдпреБрд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХреЗ рдХрд░реНрдордЪрд╛рд░рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкрдХ рдЫрдВрдЯрдиреА рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИред
рд╕реЛрджрдкреБрд░ рдХреЛрд▓рдХрд╛рддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рддреЗрдЬреА рд╕реЗ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╕рд┐рдд рдЙрдкрдирдЧрд░ рдФрд░ рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рдЙрддреНрдкрд╛рджрди рдЗрдХрд╛рдЗрдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдХреЗрджреНрд░ рд╣реБрдЖ рдХрд░рддрд╛ рдерд╛редрдпрд╣рд╛рдВ рд░реЛрдЬрд╛рдирд╛ рд▓рд╛рдЦреЛрдВ рдпрд╛рддреНрд░реА рдЯреНрд░реЗрдиреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдиреМрдХрд░реА рдпрд╛ рдХрд╛рд░рд╛рдмреЛрд░ рдпрд╛ рдЕрдзреНрдпрдпрди рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдирд┐рдХрд▓рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдЪрд╛рд░ рдирдВрдмрд░ рдкреНрд▓реИрдЯрдлрд╛рд░реНрдо рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдЯрд┐рдХрдЯ рдХрд╛рдЙрдВрдЯрд░ рдорд╣реАрдиреЗрднрд░ рд╕реЗ рдмрдВрдж рд╣реИредрдЖрд░рдХреНрд╖рдг рдХрд╛рдлреА рджрд┐рдиреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдмрдВрдж рд░рд╣рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдЖрдЬ рдЦреБрд▓рд╛ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛редрдЬрдмрдХрд┐ рдЯрд┐рдХрдЯ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдПрдХрд░ рдирдВрдмрд░ рдкреНрд▓реЗрдЯрдлрд╛рд░реНрдо рдкрд░ рджреЛ рдЦрд┐рдбрдХрд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рд╣реИрдВред
рд╕реЛрджрдкреБрд░ рд╕реНрдЯреЗрд╢рди рдХреЗ рджреЛ рд░реЗрд▓рд╡реЗ рдмреБрдХрд┐рдВрдЧ рдХреНрд▓рд░реНрдХ рдХреА рдХреИрдВрд╕рд░ рд╕реЗ рдореМрдд рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИрд╛,рдЬрд┐рдирдХреА рдЬрдЧрд╣ рдирд┐рдпреБрдХреНрддрд┐ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИредрд╕рд╛рдд рджреВрд╕рд░реЗ рдХрд░реНрдордЪрд╛рд░рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рддрдмрд╛рджрд▓рд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдмрдЪреЗ рдЦреБрдЪреЗ рд▓реЛрдЧрдВ рд╕реЗ рдХрд╛рдо рдирд┐рдХрд╛рд▓рд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдХреБрдЫ рд▓реЗрдирд╛ рджреЗрдирд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рд╕реБрдзрд╛рд░реЛрдВ,рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА,рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА,рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЖрдо рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдХреБрдЫ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╕реБрдирдирд╛ рд╣реИредрдЙрдирдореЗрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛рддрд░ рдмрдЬрд░рдВрдЧреА рд╣реИред
рдмрдЬрд░рдВрдЧреА рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рд╣реИрдВ рдХрд┐ рдЙрдирд╕реЗ рдХреЛрдИ рд╕рдВрд╡рд╛рдж рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдореБрджреНрджреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рди рдЯрдХрд░рд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдпрд╣ рдирддреАрдЬрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдХреНрд╖рддреНрд░рдкреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рджрд▓ рдмрджрд▓, рдЕрд╡рд╕рд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдЬреЛ рд╣реЛ рд╕реЛ рд╣реИ,рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╣рдХрд╣рдХреВрдХ рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдиреНрдирд╛рдЯрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдпрд╣ рдЕрдЦрдВрдб рдмрдЬрд░рдВрдЧреА рд╕рдордп рд╣реИред
тЖз
рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдХрдЯреНрдЯрд░ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рдирд┐рд╖рд┐рджреНрдз рдХрд░рдХреЗ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛рдпреЗ,рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреА рдЪреБрдиреМрддреА рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдХрдЯреНрдЯрд░ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рдирд┐рд╖рд┐рджреНрдз рдХрд░рдХреЗ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛рдпреЗ,рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреА рдЪреБрдиреМрддреА
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрднрдГ рдЖрдЬ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреА рдЪреБрдиреМрддреА рджреЗрддрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛ рджреИрдирд┐рдХ рдЖрдирдВрдж рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдкрддреНрд░рд┐рдХрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд╢рд┐рдд рд╕реЗрдордВрддреА рдШреЛрд╖ рдХрд╛ рдЕрддреНрдпрдВрдд рдкреНрд░рд╛рд╕рдВрдЧрд┐рдХ рдЖрд▓реЗрдЦ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХрд╛ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдФрд░ рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝рд╛ рдЦрддрд░рд╛ рд╣реИредрдЙрдирдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХрд╛ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛,рдХрд╣рд╛ рд╣рд░ рд╢рдмреНрдж рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рдмреНрд░рд╛рд╣реНрдордгрд╛рд╡рд╛рджреА рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╣реИред рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рд╣реА рдЗрд╕ рдЕрдВрдз рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХ рдЕрдЬреЗрдп рдХрд┐рд▓рд╛ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рднреАредрдЬреЛ рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛ рдкрдврд╝ рд╕рдХрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рд╡реЗ рдЕрд╡рд╢реНрдп рд╣реА рдпрд╣ рдЖрд▓реЗрдЦ рдкрдврд╝реЗрдВред
ржирж┐рж╖рж┐ржжрзНржз ржХрж░рж▓рзЗржи ржирж╛?
рж╕рзЗржоржирзНрждрзА ржШрзЛрж╖
рж╕рзНржХрзБрж▓ рж╕рж┐рж▓рзЗржмрж╛рж╕рзЗрж░ ржмржЗржкрждрзНрж░ ржЦрзБржБржЯрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржкржбрж╝рзЗ ржЧрзЛрж▓ржорзЗрж▓рзЗ ржЬрж┐ржирж┐рж╕ржЧрзБрж▓рзЛ ржмрж╛ржж ржжрзЗржУрзЯрж╛рж░ ржжрж╛рзЯрж┐рждрзНржм ржкржбрж╝рзЗржЫрж┐рж▓ ржмрждрзНрж░рж╛ ржорж╢рж╛ржЗ-ржПрж░ ржЙржкрж░ред рждрж┐ржирж┐ ржПржХржЯрж╛ ржкрж╛ржБржЪ-ржкрж╛рждрж╛ ржЬрзЛржбрж╝рж╛ рж▓ржорзНржмрж╛ ржирж┐рж╖рзЗржзрж╛ржЬрзНржЮрж╛ ржлрж┐рж░рж┐рж╕рзНрждрж┐ ржмрж╛ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ ржжрж┐рзЯрзЗржЫрзЗржи, ржорж┐рж░рзНржЬрж╛ ржЧрж╛рж▓рж┐ржм, ржПржо ржПржл рж╣рзБрж╕рзЗржи, ржЖржХржмрж░, ржЖржУрж░ржЩрзНржЧржЬрзЗржм, ржЖржорж┐рж░ ржЦрзБрж╕рж░рзБ, ржХржд ржирж╛ржо рждрж╛рждрзЗред ржПржЗ ржмрзГрж╣рзО ржУ рж╕ржорзГржжрзНржз рж▓рж╛рж▓-рждрж╛рж▓рж┐ржХрж╛ржЯрж┐рж░ ржмрзЗрж╢ ржЙржкрж░рзЗрж░ ржжрж┐ржХрзЗржЗ ржЫрж┐рж▓рзЗржи рж░ржмрж┐ ржарж╛ржХрзБрж░ред
рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдпрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдХрд▓реНрдкрдирд╛ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреА рдЧреАрддрд╛рдВрдЬрд▓рд┐ рдХреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рдЕрд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рднрд╛рдЧрд╡рдд рдЧреАрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдорд╣рд╛рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рдмрджрд▓рдиреЗ рдХреА рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рд╢ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рд░реНрдл рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ,рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ,рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рднреА рдереЗредрдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдХрд╣рдирд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдкрдорд╛рди рд╣реИредрд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рдЬрдм рдпрд╣ рдмрд╛рдд рдХрд╣реА рдереА,рддрдм рд╣рд┐рдЯрд▓рд░ рдореБрд╕реЛрд▓рд┐рдиреА рдХреЗ рдЕрдВрдз рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рд╕реЗ рдкреВрд░реА рджреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрдЦреНрдореА рдФрд░ рд▓рд╣реВрд▓реБрд╣рд╛рди рдереАредрд▓рд╛рддрд┐рди рдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХрд╛,рдпреВрд░реЛрдк рдФрд░ рдЪреАрди,рд░реВрд╕,рдЬрд╛рдкрд╛рди рдХреА рдпрд╛рддреНрд░рд╛ рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рдмреА рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рд▓рдЧрд╛рддрд╛рд░ рдЗрд╕ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдмреЛрд▓рддреЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрддреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рд╣рдо рдЖрдЬ рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрдн рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдХреЗрд╕рд░рд┐рдпрд╛рдХрд░рдг рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдХрд╢реНрдореАрд░, рдордзреНрдпрднрд╛рд░рдд рдФрд░ рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕реА рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓, рдЕрд╕рдо,рдордгрд┐рдкреБрд░,рд╕рдореВрдЪреЗ рдкреВрд░реНрд╡реЛрддреНрддрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд,рджрд╛рд░реНрдЬрд┐рд▓рд┐рдВрдЧ, рддрдорд┐рд▓рдирд╛рдбреБ рдФрд░ рд╕рдореВрдЪреЗ рджрдХреНрд╖рд┐рдг рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд▓рд╛рдордмрдВрдж рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рджреА рдмрдЬрд░рдВрдЧреА рд╕реЗрдирд╛,рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп.рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдХреЗ рдХреЗрд╕рд░рд┐рдпрд╛рдХрд░рдг рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрдн рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХрд╛ рдорд╣рд┐рдорд╛рдордВрдбрд┐рдд рд╡реАрднрддреНрд╕ рдЪреЗрд╣рд░рд╛ рджреЗрдЦ рд╕рдХрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдпрд╣ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рдлрд╛рд╕рд┐рд╕реНрдЯ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рд╣реИ рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХреЗ рддрд╣рдд рдирд╛рдЧрд░рд┐рдХреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЕрдкрдиреА рджреЗрд╣,рдорди,рдорд╕реНрддрд┐рд╖реНрдХ,рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЦреНрд╡рд╛рдмреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рднреА рдХреЛрдИ рдЕрдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрдпрд╣ рд╕реИрдиреНрдп рдкрд╛рд░рдорд╛рдгрд╡рд┐рдХ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдХреА рдЧреБрд▓рд╛рдо рдкреНрд░рдЬрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рдирд╛рдЧрд░рд┐рдХрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдорд╛рдирд╡рд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реБрджреНрдз рд╣реИред
рдпрд╣реА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдмрдВрдХрд┐рдордЪрдВрджреНрд░,рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдЖрдирдВрдж рдорда рдФрд░ рд╡рдВрджреЗрдорд╛рддрд░рдо рдХреЗ рдорд╣рд┐рдорд╛рдордВрдбрди рд╕реЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдЕрд╢реНрд╡рдореЗрдзреА рдЕрднрд┐рдпрд╛рди рдХреЛ рд╕реБрдирд╛рдореА рдореЗрдВ рддрдмреНрджреАрд▓ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдкрд░ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рд╣реИ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░,рддреЛ рд╡рд╣реАрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рд░рдЪреЗ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рдЧрд╛рди рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдзрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдмрд╣реБрд▓рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЬрдпрдЧрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╣реИ рдмрдЬрд░рдВрдЧреА рд╕реЗрдирд╛ред
рд╕рдВрдЬреЛрдЧрд╡рд╢ рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛рджреЗрд╢ рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдХрдЯреНрдЯрд░рдкрдВрдереА рдЗрд╕реНрд▓рд╛рдореА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде,рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд░рдЪрдирд╛рд╕рдордЧреНрд░, рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд░рдЪрд┐рдд рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рдЧрд╛рди рдЖрдорд╛рд░ рд╕реЛрдирд╛рд░ рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛ рдФрд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рдорд╛рдирд╡рддрд╛ рд╡рд╛рджреА рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рдмрдВрдзреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдк рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рд▓рд╛рдордмрдВрдж рд╣реИред
рддрдм рд╣рдо рднрд╛рд╖рд╛рдмрдВрдзрди рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрдкрд╛рджрдХреАрдп рдореЗрдВ рдХреГрдкрд╛рд╢рдХрдВрд░ рдЪреМрдмреЗ рдФрд░ рдЕрд░рд╡рд┐рдВрдж рдЪрддреБрд░реНрд╡реЗрдж рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдереЗредрдорд╣рд╛рд╢реНрд╡реЗрддрд╛ рджреЗрд╡реА рдкреНрд░рджрд╛рди рд╕рдВрдкрд╛рджрдХ рдереАрдВредрдирд╡рд╛рд░реБрдг рджрд╛ рд╕рдВрдкрд╛рджрдХредрднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рднрд╛рд╖рд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреЗ рд╕реЗрддреБрдмрдВрдзрди рдХреЗ рдЙрджреНрджреЗрд╢реНрдп рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдирд┐рдХрд▓реА рдЗрд╕ рдкрддреНрд░рд┐рдХрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрдкрд╛рджрдХ рдордВрдбрд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд╡реАрд░реЗрди рдбрдВрдЧрд╡рд╛рд▓, рдордВрдЧрд▓реЗрд╢ рдбрдмрд░рд╛рд▓ рдФрд░ рдкрдВрдХрдЬ рдмрд┐рд╖реНрдЯ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдереЗред
рдирд╡рд╛рд░реБрдг рджрд╛ рд╢рдмреНрджреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЖрд╢рдп рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░рдпреЛрдЧ рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдмреЗрд╣рдж рд╕рдВрд╡реЗрджрдирд╢реАрд▓ рдереЗредрдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рд╣реА рдЧреНрд▓реЛрдмреЗрд▓рд╛рдЗрдЬреЗрд╢рди рдХрд╛ рдЕрдиреБрд╡рд╛рдж рдЧреНрд▓реЛрдмреАрдХрд░рдг рдмрддрд╛рдпрд╛ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдирдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рд╕реЗ рдпрд╣ рд╡реИрд╢реНрд╡реАрдХрд░рдг рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ,рдмрд▓реНрдХрд┐ рд╡реИрд╢реНрд╡реАрдХрд░рдг рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдореБрдХреНрддрдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХреА рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рд╣реИ рдпрд╣ред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреА рдЕрдВрддрд░рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рдирд╛рдЧрд░рд┐рдХрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдорд╛рдирд╡рддрд╛рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЛ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдирд╡рд╛рд░реБрдг рднрдЯреНрдЯрд╛рдЪрд╛рд░реНрдп ┬ард╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреА рдЬрдЧрд╣ рдЕрд╕рд▓ рд╡реИрд╢реНрд╡реАрдХрд░рдг ,рдЧреНрд▓реЛрдмреЗрд▓рд╛рдЗрдЬреЗрд╢рди рдорд╛рдирддреЗ рдереЗ,рдЬреЛ рдореБрдХреНрддрдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░реА рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рдПрдХрд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдореНрд░рд╛рдЬреНрдпрд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЙрд▓рдЯ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рд╕реИрдиреНрдп рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рднреАред
рдорд╣рд╛рд╢реНрд╡реЗрддрд╛ рджреА рдиреЗ рднреА рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╕рд╛рд░реА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЗрд╕ рд╕реИрдиреНрдп рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕рд┐рдпреЛрдВ,рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдорд╣рд┐рд▓рд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рдЬрд▓ рдЬрдВрдЧрд▓ рдЬрдореАрди рдХреЗ рд╣рдХ рд╣рдХреВрдХ рдХреА рдЬрдирд╛рдВрджреЛрд▓рдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рдХреА рд╣реИред
рдЧреМрд░рддрд▓рдм рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдкрдВрдбрд┐рдд рдЬрд╡рд╛рд╣рд░рд▓рд╛рд▓ рдиреЗрд╣рд░реБ рднреА рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреА рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдкрд░реАрдд рдкрдВрдЪрд╢реАрд▓ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рдмрдВрдзреБрддреНрд╡,рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдзрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдмрд╣реБрд▓рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдкрдХреНрд╖рдзрд░ рдереЗ,рдЬрд┐рдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдиреЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рд╕реЗ рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдорд┐рдЯрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдмреАрдбрд╝рд╛ рдЙрдард╛ рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИредрдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдиреЗрд╣рд░реБ рдЪреВрдВрдХрд┐ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рд╣рд╛рд╢рд┐рдпреЗ рдкрд░ рдбрд╛рд▓реЗ рдЬрд╛ рд╕рдХрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдФрд░ рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛рджреЗрд╢ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рд░ рд╕реНрддреНрд░реА рдХреА рджрд┐рдирдЪрд░реНрдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рдВрдЧреАрдд рд░рдЪрд╛ рдмрд╕рд╛ рд╣реИ,рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рдорд┐рдЯрд╛рдирд╛ рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдмреВрддреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рддрд╛рдЬрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧреА рд╣рдорд▓реЗ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдХреЗрд▓реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХрд╛рдлреА рд╣реИрдВред
рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл,рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдмрд╣рд┐рд╕реНрдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл,рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдмреМрджреНрдзрдордп рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рд╡рдХреНрддрд╛ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рднрд╛рд░рддрд╡рд░реНрд╖ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрд╕реНрддрд╛рди рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ,рдпрд╣ рднрд╛рд░рдд рддреАрд░реНрде рд╣реИ,рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рднрд░ рд╕реЗ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреА рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдз рдзрд╛рд░рд╛рдУрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рд▓рдпрд╣реЛрдХрд░ рдПрдХрд╛рдХрд╛рд░ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреА рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреА рдпрд╣ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдЖрдирдВрдж рдорда ┬ардирд╕реНрд▓реА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рдЕрдВрдмреЗрдбрдХрд░ рдХреЛ рдЖрддреНрдорд╕рд╛рдд рдХрд░ рд▓реЗрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╡рдЬреВрдж рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХреЛ рдЖрддреНрдорд╕рд╛рдд рдХрд░рдирд╛ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЕрд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИред ┬а┬а
рд╕реЗрдордВрддреА рдШреЛрд╖ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреА рд╣рд░ рд░рдЪрдирд╛,рдЙрдирдХреЗ рддрдорд╛рдо рдкрддреНрд░,рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рд╕рдВрдЧреАрдд,рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╡рдХреНрддрд╡реНрдп рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдПрдЬрдВрдбреЗ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╣реИредрд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдорд░реЗ рд╣реБрдП рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХрд╛ рдХрдо рд╕реЗ рдХрдо рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд░реНрд╡рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкреА рдЕрд╕рд░ рдЗрддрдирд╛ рдкреНрд░рдмрд▓ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреА рд╣рд┐рдореНрдордд рдЬреБрдЯрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рдХреА рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп,рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрдирд╛ рдЕрд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИредрд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рдХреЗ рдЖрд▓реЛрдЪрдХ рдбрд╛.рд╢рдВрднреВрдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рдХреА рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рдкрд░ рдорд╣рддреНрд╡рдкреВрд░реНрдг рд╢реЛрдз рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ,рд▓рдЧрддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдЦрд░реАрдж рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рдпрд╣ рдЕрддреНрдпрдВрдд рдорд╣рддреНрд╡рдкреВрд░реНрдг рд╢реЛрдз рдЖрдо рд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рдкрд╛рдардХреЛрдВ рддрдХ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрд╣реБрдВрдЪрд╛ рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рджреЗрд╡рд░реНрд╖рд┐ рджреЗрд╡реЗрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдард╛рдХреБрд░ рдмреНрд░рд╣реНрдорд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдореЗрдВ рдкреНрд░рдореБрдЦ рдереЗ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХрд╛ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░ рдард╛рдХреБрд░рдмрд╛рдбрд╝реА рдЬреЛрдбрд╝рд╛рд╕рд╛рдВрдХреЛ рдерд╛,рдЬреЛ рд╕реНрддреНрд░реА рдореБрдХреНрддрд┐ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХрд╛ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░ рднреА рдерд╛ред рдХреБрд▓реАрди, рд╕рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрдУрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдмреНрд░рд╣реНрдорд╕рдорд╛рдЬреА рдореБрд╕рд▓рдорд╛рдиреЛрдВ, рдИрд╕рд╛рдЗрдпреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЕрдЫреВрддреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд░рд╛рдмрд░ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдп рд╢рддреНрд░реБ рдереЗред
рдпрд╣реА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓реА рднрджреНрд░рд▓реЛрдХ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд╡рддрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдиреЛрдмреЗрд▓ рдкреБрд░рд╕реНрдХрд╛рд░ рдкрд╛рдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рдХрднреА рдХрд╡рд┐ рдорд╛рдирд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рджреВрд╕рд░реА рдУрд░,рдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдФрд░ рдЬреАрд╡рди рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдореЗрдВ рдорд╣рд╛рддреНрдорд╛ рдЧреМрддрдо рдмреБрджреНрдз рдХрд╛ рд╕рд░реНрд╡рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкреА рдЕрд╕рд░ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреА рд╕рдореВрдЪреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдирд┐рд░рдВрддрд░ рдЕрднрд┐рдпрд╛рди рд╣реИред
рд╣рдордиреЗ рдЕрдЫреВрдд рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдкрд░ рдХрд░реАрдм рджрд╕ рдмрд╛рд░рд╣ рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рдХрд╡рд┐ рдХреЗрджрд╛рд░рдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдХреЗ рдХрд╣рдиреЗ рдкрд░ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗрд╡рд╛рд░ рдХрд╛рдо рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдерд╛редрдорд╣рдЬ рддреАрди рдорд╣реАрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рднреАрддрд░ рдПрдХ рдХрд┐рддрд╛рдм рдХреА рдкрд╛рдВрдбреБрд▓рд┐рдкрд┐ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╕реМрдВрдкреА рдереА,рдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд╢рди рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рджрд░рд┐рдпрд╛рдЧрдВрдЬ , рджрд┐рд▓реНрд▓реА рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд╢рдХ рд╣рд░рд┐рд╢реНрдЪрдВрджреНрд░ рдЬреА рдХреЛ рд╕реМрдВрдкреА рдереАредрд╣рдордиреЗ рдХреЗрджрд╛рд░рдирд╛рде рдЬреА рд╕реЗ рдирд┐рд╡реЗрджрди рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рд╡рд╣ рдкрд╛рдВрдбреБрд▓рд┐рдкрд┐ рд╡реЗ рд╕рдВрдкрд╛рджрд┐рдд рдХрд░ рджреЗрдВредрд╣рд░рд┐рд╢реНрдЪрдВрджреНрд░ рдЬреА рдиреЗ рдЫрд╛рдкрдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд╛рдпрджрд╛ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдерд╛редрд▓реЗрдХрд┐рд▓ рджрд╕ рдмрд╛рд░рд╣рд╕рд╛рд▓ рд╕реЗ рд╡рд╣ рдкрд╛рдВрдбреБрд▓рд┐рдкрд┐ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдкрд╛рд╕ рдкрдбрд╝реА рд╣реИредрдореЗрд░реЗ рдкрд╛рд╕ рдЬреЛ рдореВрд▓ рдкрд╛рдВрдбреБрд▓рд┐рдкрд┐ рдереА,рд╡рд╣ рдмрд╛рдХреА рдЪреАрдЬреЛрдВ,рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрдн рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд╢рд┐рдд рд╕рд╛рдордЧреНрд░реА рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЪрд▓реА рдЧрдпреАред
рдЕрдм рдмреЗрдШрд▒, рдмреЗрд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рд╣рд╛рд▓рдд рдореЗрдВ рдирдпреЗ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдХрд╛рдо рдХрд░рдирд╛ рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рд▓рд┐рдПредрднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рднрд╛рд╖рд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рдпреБрд╡рд╛ рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░,рдЖрд▓реЛрдЪрдХ рдЗрд╕ рдЕрдзреВрд░реЗ рдХрд╛рдо рдХреЛ рдкреВрд░рд╛ рдХрд░ рджреЗрдВ рддреЛ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ ┬ард╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ,рднрд╛рд░рдд рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрдиреЗ,рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдзрддрд╛,рдмрд╣реБрд▓рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕рд╣рд┐рд╖реНрдгреБрддрд╛ рдХреА рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рдХреЛ рдордЬрдмреВрдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдорджрдж рдорд┐рд▓реЗрдЧреАредрдореЗрд░реЗ рдкрд╛рд╕ рди рд╡рдХреНрдд рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рди рд╕рдВрд╕рд╛рдзрдиред
рдЙрддреНрддрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдорд┐рд░реНрдЬрд╛ рдЧрд╛рд▓рд┐рдм,рдЕрдореАрд░ рдЦреБрд╕рд░реЛ, рдкреНрд░реЗрдордЪрдВрдж, рдкрд╛рд╢ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдлрддрд╡реЗ рдФрд░ рдкрд╛рдареНрдпрдХреНрд░рдо рдмрджрд▓рдХрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдХреЛ рдмрджрд▓рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдХреЗрд╕рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдЙрдкрдХреНрд░рдо рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдпрд┐рдХ рд╕рд╛рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐рдХ рдЬрдЧрдд рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдирдВрдд рд╕рдиреНрдирд╛рдЯрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдкрд░реАрдд рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдмрд╣реБрдд рддреАрдЦреА рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐рдХрд░реНрдореА рд╕рдбрд╝рдХреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рдЙрддрд░рдиреЗ рд▓рдЧреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдЧрд╛рдпрдкрдЯреНрдЯреА рдХреЗ рдХреЗрд╕рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдкрд░реАрдд рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рд▓реЛрдХрдкреНрд░рд┐рдп рджреИрдирд┐рдХ рднреА рдЗрд╕ рдореБрд╣рд┐рдо рдореЗрдВ рд╢рд╛рдорд┐рд▓ рд╣реИредрдмрд╛рдХреА рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рднреА рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡рдХрд░рдг рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд▓рд╛рдордмрдВрдж рд╣реИред
рдЖрдЬ рд╣реА рдЖрдирдВрджрдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рдХреЗ рдорд╛рд░реНрдлрдд рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдкрд░ рдХреБрдард╛рд░рд╛рдШрд╛рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдИрд╢реНрд╡рд░рдЪрдВрджреНрд░ рд╡рд┐рджреНрдпрд╛рд╕рд╛рдЧрд░ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд╕реАрдпрддрдирд╛рдорд╛ рдЫрдкрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдореЗрдВ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдкреБрддреНрд░ рдХреЛ рддреНрдпрд╛рдЧ рджреЗрдиреЗ рдХреА рдШреЛрд╖рдгрд╛ рдХреА рд╣реИредрдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдФрд░ рдорд╣рд╛рдирдЧрд░ рдХреЛрд▓рдХрд╛рддрд╛ рдЫреЛрдбрд╝рдХрд░ рдЖрдЦрд┐рд░реА рд╡рдХреНрдд рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕реА рдЧрд╛рдВрд╡ рдФрд░ рд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдореЗрдВ рдмрд┐рддрд╛рдпрд╛ред
рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рдХреА рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рдореЗрдВ рд╢рд╛рдорд┐рд▓ рд╡рд┐рджреНрдпрд╛рд╕рд╛рдЧрд░,рд░рд╛рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╛рдордореЛрд╣рди рд░рд╛рдп,рдорд╛рдЗрдХреЗрд▓ рдордзреБрд╕реВрджрди рджрддреНрдд рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рд╕реБрдзрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЪрд▓рддреЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдЖрдзреБрдирд┐рдХ рдмрдирд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЙрджрд╛рд░ рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░рдЧрддрд┐рд╢реАрд▓ рднреАред
рдорд╛рдЗрдХреЗрд▓ рдХреЗ рдореЗрдШрдирд╛рдж рд╡рдз рдХрд╛рд╡реНрдп рдФрд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╕рдВрдШрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдШреГрдгрд╛ рдЕрднрд┐рдпрд╛рди рдЪрд▓рд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рд╢ рдХреА рддреЛ рдЙрд╕рдХрд╛ рддреАрд╡реНрд░ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рд╣реБрдЖредрд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдмрд╛рдХреА рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп,рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдХреЗ рдХреЗрд╕рд░рд┐рдпрд╛рдХрд░рдг рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓реА рджрд┐рдирдЪрд░реНрдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреА рдЙрдкрд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдЕрдирд┐рд╡рд╛рд░реНрдп рд╕реА рд╣реИ, ┬ардЬрд╛рддрд┐, ┬ардзрд░реНрдо, ┬ард╡рд░реНрдЧ, рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░, рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдЕрд╡рд░реЛрдзреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЖрд░ рдкрд╛рд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛рднрд╛рд╖рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╕рд╛рд░реНрд╡рднреМрдо рд╣реИрдВ, рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓реА рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рд╣реА рд▓реЛрдЧ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдЬреАрд╡рди рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрддреЗ рд╣реЛрдВрдЧреЗ, рдРрд╕реА рдкреНрд░рддреНрдпрд╛рд╢рд╛ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╡рдЬреВрдж рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдФрд░ рджреВрд╕рд░реЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд▓реЗрдЦрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл,рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдХреЗрд╕рд░рд┐рдпрд╛рдХрд░рдг рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЬреЛ рддреАрд╡реНрд░ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ,рдЙрд╕рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рдл рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд╡рддрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рдмрдкреМрддреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдмрддреНрд░рд╛ рд╕рд╛рд╣реЗрдм рдХреА рдореЗрд╣рд░рдмрд╛рдиреА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдлрд╛рд╕рд┐рдЬреНрдо рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдорд╣рд╛рди рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЪрд┐рдиреНрд╣рд┐рдд рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛редрдЗрди рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рдЬреАрд╡рд┐рдд рдФрд░ рд╕рдХреНрд░рд┐рдп рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рдл рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдирдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рд╕реЗ рднреА рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдЙрдиреНрд╣реАрдВ рдореГрдд рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░реНрдпрдХреНрд░рдо рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреА рдЪреБрдкреНрдкреА рдЙрдирдХреА рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░рдзрд╛рд░рд╛,рдЙрдирдХреА рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдЕрднрд┐рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрдд рдХрд░рддреА рд╣реИред
рдЧреМрд░рддрд▓рдм рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдореБрдХреНрддрд┐рдмреЛрдз рдкрд░ рдЕрднреА рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдЬрд┐рд╣рд╛рджрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рдХреГрдкрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИредрд╢рд╛рдпрдж рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╕рдордЭрдирд╛ рд╣рд░ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдХреЗ рдмрд╕ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ,рдЧреЛрдмрд░рдкрдВрдерд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рддреЛ рд╡реЗ рдЕрдмреВрдЭ рд╣реА рд╣реИрдВред
рдЙрдиреНрд╣реАрдВ рдореГрдд рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░реНрдпрдХреНрд░рдо рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреА рдЪреБрдкреНрдкреА рдЙрдирдХреА рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░рдзрд╛рд░рд╛,рдЙрдирдХреА рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдЕрднрд┐рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрдд рдХрд░рддреА рд╣реИред
рдЧреМрд░рддрд▓рдм рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдореБрдХреНрддрд┐рдмреЛрдз рдкрд░ рдЕрднреА рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдЬрд┐рд╣рд╛рджрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рдХреГрдкрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИредрд╢рд╛рдпрдж рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╕рдордЭрдирд╛ рд╣рд░ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдХреЗ рдмрд╕ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ,рдЧреЛрдмрд░рдкрдВрдерд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рддреЛ рд╡реЗ рдЕрдмреВрдЭ рд╣реА рд╣реИрдВредрдЕрдЧрд░ рдХрд╛рдВрдЯреЗрдЯ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рд╣рд╛рдЬ рд╕реЗ рджреЗрдЦреЗрдВ рддреЛ рдлрд╛рд╕рд┐рдЬрдо рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдЦрддрд░рдирд╛рдХ рдореБрдХреНрддрд┐рдмреЛрдз рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧреАрдп рдзреНрд░реВрд╡реАрдХрд░рдг рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рдЕрдкрдиреА рдХрд╡рд┐рддрд╛рдУрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдЕрдВрдзреЗрд░рд╛ рдлрд╛рд╕рд┐рдЬреНрдо рдХрд╛ рдЕрдЦрдВрдб рдЖрддрдВрдХрд╛рдХрд╛рд░реА рдЪреЗрд╣рд░рд╛ рд╣реИредрд╢рд╛рдпрдж рдорд╣рд╛рдорд╣рд┐рдо рдмрддреНрд░рд╛ рдорд╣реЛрджрдп рдиреЗ рдЕрднреА рдореБрдХреНрддрдмреЛрдз рдХреЛ рдХрд╛рдпрджреЗ рд╕реЗ рдкрдврд╝рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдмрддреНрд░рд╛ рд╕рд╛рд╣реЗрдм рдХреА рдХреГрдкрд╛ рд╕реЗ рдЬреЛ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рд╣реИрдВ,рдЙрдирдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░,рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА,рдкреНрд░реЗрдордЪрдВрдж,рдкрд╛рд╢, рдЧрд╛рд▓рд┐рдм рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрдирд╛ рднреА рдЧреЛрдмрд░рдкрдВрдерд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЕрд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИред
рдЬрд┐рди рдЧреЛрд╕реНрд╡рд╛рдореА рддреБрд▓рд╕реАрджрд╛рд╕ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдордЪрд░рд┐рдд рдорд╛рдирд╕ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдорд░рд╛рдЬреНрдп рдФрд░ рдорд░реНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдкреБрд░реБрд╖реЛрддреНрддрдо рдХреЛ рдХреИрдВрджреНрд░рд┐рдд рдпрд╣ рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╕реБрдирд╛рдореА рд╣реИ,рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рднреА рд╡реЗ рдХрд┐рддрдирд╛ рд╕рдордЭрддреЗ рд╣реЛрдВрдЧреЗ,рдЗрд╕рдХрд╛ рднреА рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬрд╛ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдирд╛ рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИред
рдХрдмреАрд░ рджрд╛рд╕ рдФрд░ рд╕реВрд░рджрд╛рд╕ рд▓реЛрдХ рдореЗрдВ рд░рдЪреЗ рдмрд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реНрд╡рдЬрдиреАрди рдХрд╡рд┐ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЬрд┐рдирдХреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдпрддрд╛ рдХреА рдХрд▓реНрдкрдирд╛ рдЕрд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рд╣рд░ рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрд┐рдирдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рд░ рд╣реИред рдордзреНрдпрднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рддреЛ рдХрдмреАрд░ рдХреЛ рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рд╡реИрд╕реА рд╣реА рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рд╣реИ,рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЙрд╕реА рдордзреНрдпрднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдордЬрдмреВрдд рдЧрдврд╝ рдФрд░ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рд╣реИред
ржарж┐ржХржЗ рждрзЛ, рж╕ржВржШрзЗрж░ ржкржХрзНрж╖рзЗ рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛ржержХрзЗ рж╣ржЬржо ржХрж░рж╛ ржЕрж╕ржорзНржнржм
ржирж┐рж╖рж┐ржжрзНржз ржХрж░рж▓рзЗржи ржирж╛?
рж╕рзЗржоржирзНрждрзА ржШрзЛрж╖
ржирж╛тАКтАФ ржорзЗржирзЗ ржирзЗржУрзЯрж╛ ржпрж╛ржЪрзНржЫрзЗ ржирж╛ред рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛ржерзЗрж░ ржПржЗ рж╣рж╛ржБржбрж╝рж┐рж░ рж╣рж╛рж▓ ржорзЗржирзЗ ржирзЗржУрзЯрж╛ ржЕрж╕ржорзНржнржмред ржХрзА ржХрж░рж┐! ржжрзАржиржирж╛рже ржмрждрзНрж░рж╛ржХрзЗ ржПржХржЯрж╛ ржлрзЛржи ржХрж░ржм? ржмрж▓ржм, ржорж╢рж╛ржЗ ржжрзЗржЦрзБржи ржПржХржЯрзБ, ржЖржкржирж┐ржЗ ржкрж╛рж░рзЗржи ржЖржорж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржмрж╛ржБржЪрж╛рждрзЗ! ржПржЗ рждрзЛ рж╕рзЗ ржжрж┐ржи ржЖржкржирж┐ ржмрж▓рж▓рзЗржи, рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛ржерзЗрж░ рж▓рзЗржЦрж╛ рж╕рзНржХрзБрж▓ рж╕рж┐рж▓рзЗржмрж╛рж╕ ржерзЗржХрзЗ ржмрж╛ржж ржжрзЗржУрзЯрж╛ рж╣ржмрзЗред ржХрзЗржи рждржмрзЗ ржЖржкржирж╛рж░ ржХржерж╛ ржирж╛ рж╢рзБржирзЗ ржУрж░рж╛ ржПржЦржи ржкрж┐ржЫрзБ рж╣ржЯржЫрзЗ? ржХрзЗржи ржорж┐ржерзНржпрзЗ ржХрж░рзЗ ржмрж▓ржЫрзЗ, ржЖржкржирж╛рж░ рж╢рж┐ржХрзНрж╖рж╛ рж╕ржВрж╕рзНржХрзГрждрж┐ ржЙрждрзНржерж╛ржи ржирзНржпрж╛рж╕ржХрзЗ ржирж╛ ржХрж┐ ржЖрж░ржПрж╕ржПрж╕-ржПрж░ ржЕржВрж╢ ржмрж▓рж╛ ржпрж╛рзЯ ржирж╛? рж╕рзЗ ржжрж┐ржи ржЖржмрж╛рж░ рж╢рзБржирж▓рж╛ржо, ржкрж╢рзНржЪрж┐ржоржмржЩрзНржЧрзЗрж░ ржЖрж░ржПрж╕ржПрж╕ ржХрзНржпрж╛ржкржЯрзЗржи ржмрж┐ржжрзНржпрзБрзО ржорзБржЦрзБржЬрзНржЬрзЗ ржмрж▓ржЫрзЗржи, ржЕржоржи ржХржерж╛ ржирж╛ржХрж┐ ржирзНржпрж╛рж╕ ржмрж▓рзЗржирж┐ред ржжрзЗржЦрзБржи рждрзЛ, ржХрзА ржХрж╛ржгрзНржб, рж╕рж╛ржЬрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржЧрзБржЫрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржжрж┐ржиржХрзЗ рж░рж╛ржд ржХрж░рзЗ рж░ржмрж┐ ржарж╛ржХрзБрж░ржХрзЗ рж▓рж╛рж╕рзНржЯ ржорзЛржорзЗржирзНржЯрзЗ ржмрж╛ржБржЪрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржжрзЗржУрзЯрж╛? ржирж╛, ржП рж╕ржм рж╕рж╣рзНржпрзЗрж░ ржЕрждрзАржд! ржЖржкржирж╛рж░ ржЙржЪрж┐ржд, рж╕рзЛржЬрж╛ ржорж╛ржарзЗ ржирзЗржорзЗ ржмрзНржпрж╛ржкрж╛рж░ржЯрж╛ ржирж┐ржЬрзЗ рж╕рж╛ржорж▓рж╛ржирзЛред рж╢рзБржзрзБ рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛ржерзЗрж░ рж▓рзЗржЦрж╛ржкрждрзНрж░ ржирзЯ, рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛рже ржирж╛ржорзЗ рж▓рзЛржХржЯрж╛ржХрзЗржЗ ржПржХ ржзрж╛ржХрзНржХрж╛рзЯ ржирж┐рж╖рж┐ржжрзНржз ржХрж░рзЗ ржжрзЗржУрзЯрж╛ред ржПрж░ ржкрж░ ржерзЗржХрзЗ ржпрзЗржи ржУржБржХрзЗ 'ржмрж┐ржк'ржарж╛ржХрзБрж░ ржЫрж╛ржбрж╝рж╛ ржЖрж░ ржХрж┐ржЫрзБ ржирж╛ ржмрж▓рж╛ рж╣рзЯред
рж╕рзНржХрзБрж▓ рж╕рж┐рж▓рзЗржмрж╛рж╕рзЗрж░ ржмржЗржкрждрзНрж░ ржЦрзБржБржЯрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржкржбрж╝рзЗ ржЧрзЛрж▓ржорзЗрж▓рзЗ ржЬрж┐ржирж┐рж╕ржЧрзБрж▓рзЛ ржмрж╛ржж ржжрзЗржУрзЯрж╛рж░ ржжрж╛рзЯрж┐рждрзНржм ржкржбрж╝рзЗржЫрж┐рж▓ ржмрждрзНрж░рж╛ ржорж╢рж╛ржЗ-ржПрж░ ржЙржкрж░ред рждрж┐ржирж┐ ржПржХржЯрж╛ ржкрж╛ржБржЪ-ржкрж╛рждрж╛ ржЬрзЛржбрж╝рж╛ рж▓ржорзНржмрж╛ ржирж┐рж╖рзЗржзрж╛ржЬрзНржЮрж╛ ржлрж┐рж░рж┐рж╕рзНрждрж┐ ржмрж╛ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ ржжрж┐рзЯрзЗржЫрзЗржи, ржорж┐рж░рзНржЬрж╛ ржЧрж╛рж▓рж┐ржм, ржПржо ржПржл рж╣рзБрж╕рзЗржи, ржЖржХржмрж░, ржЖржУрж░ржЩрзНржЧржЬрзЗржм, ржЖржорж┐рж░ ржЦрзБрж╕рж░рзБ, ржХржд ржирж╛ржо рждрж╛рждрзЗред ржПржЗ ржмрзГрж╣рзО ржУ рж╕ржорзГржжрзНржз рж▓рж╛рж▓-рждрж╛рж▓рж┐ржХрж╛ржЯрж┐рж░ ржмрзЗрж╢ ржЙржкрж░рзЗрж░ ржжрж┐ржХрзЗржЗ ржЫрж┐рж▓рзЗржи рж░ржмрж┐ ржарж╛ржХрзБрж░ред ржХрзЗ ржЬрж╛ржирзЗ ржПржЦржи ржХрзА ржЕржмрж╕рзНржерж╛, ржмржХрзБржирж┐ ржЦрзЗрзЯрзЗ ржирж╛ржоржЯрж╛ рждрж╛рж▓рж┐ржХрж╛ ржерзЗржХрзЗ ржХрж╛ржЯрж╛ ржпрж╛ржЪрзНржЫрзЗ ржХрж┐ ржирж╛! ржЕржержЪ ржирзНржпрж╛рж╕-ржкрзНрж░ржзрж╛ржи ржУрж░ржлрзЗ рж╕ржВржШ-ржирзЗрждрж╛ ржмрждрзНрж░рж╛ рждрзЛ ржарж┐ржХржЗ ржзрж░рзЗржЫрж┐рж▓рзЗржи, рж╕ржВржШрзАрзЯ ржЬрж╛рждрзАрзЯрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржж ржЖрж░ ржмрж┐ржЬрзЗржкрзАрзЯ рж╣рж┐ржирзНржжрзБрждрзНржмржмрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржШрзЛрж░ рж╢рждрзНрж░рзБ ржмрж▓рзЗ ржпржжрж┐ ржмрж┐рж╢ рж╢рждржХрзЗрж░ ржнрж╛рж░ржд ржерзЗржХрзЗ ржорж╛рждрзНрж░ ржПржХржЯрж┐ рж▓рзЛржХржХрзЗржУ ржмрзЗржЫрзЗ ржирж┐рждрзЗ ржмрж▓рж╛ рж╣рзЯ, ржкрзНрж░ржержо ржирж╛ржоржЯрж╛ржЗ рж╣ржУрзЯрж╛ ржЙржЪрж┐ржд рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛ржеред ржЖрж░ржПрж╕ржПрж╕-ржЗ ржпржжрж┐ рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛ржержХрзЗ ржмрж╛ржж ржирж╛ ржжрзЗрзЯ, ржЖрж░ ржХрзЗ ржжрзЗржмрзЗ? ржЙржЪрж┐ржд рждрзЛ ржЫрж┐рж▓, ржПржЦржиржЗ ржЬрзЛржбрж╝рж╛рж╕рж╛ржБржХрзЛ рж╢рж╛ржирзНрждрж┐ржирж┐ржХрзЗрждржи рж╕ржм ржмрзНржпрж╛рж░рж┐ржХрзЗржб ржжрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржШрж┐рж░рзЗ ржжрзЗржУрзЯрж╛, ржирзЛржЯрж┐рж╕ рж╕рзЗржБржЯрзЗ ржжрзЗржУрзЯрж╛тАФ ржбрзЗржЮрзНржЬрж╛рж░ ржЬрзЛржи, ржирзЛ ржПржиржЯрзНрж░рж┐ ржЗрждрзНржпрж╛ржжрж┐ред ржПржоржирж┐рждрзЗржЗ ржмрж╛ржЩрж╛рж▓рж┐рж░ ржЧрзЛржЯрж╛ рждрж┐ржирзЗржХ ржкрзНрж░ржЬржирзНржо ржЗрждрж┐ржоржзрзНржпрзЗ рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛ржерзЗрж░ ржХрзБржкрзНрж░ржнрж╛ржмрзЗ ржлрж░рзНржжрж╛ржлрж╛ржБржЗред ржПржЦржиржЗ рж╕рж╛ржмржзрж╛ржи ржирж╛ рж╣рж▓рзЗ ржорж╛ржиржмрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржж ржЗрждрзНржпрж╛ржжрж┐ рж╣рж╛ржмрж┐ржЬрж╛ржмрж┐ ржжрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржЖрж░ржУ ржХржд рж╕рзБржХрзБржорж╛рж░ржорждрж┐ ржмрж╛рж▓ржХржмрж▓рж┐ржХрж╛рж░ ржмрзНрж░рзЗржиржУрзЯрж╛рж╢ рж╣ржмрзЗ, ржХрзЗ ржЬрж╛ржирзЗ!
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ржирж┐рж╖рж┐ржжрзНржз ржХрж░рждрзЗ ржЧрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржмрждрзНрж░рж╛ 'ржирзНржпрж╛рж╢ржирж╛рж▓рж┐ржЬржо'ржкрзНрж░ржмржирзНржзрзЗрж░ ржпрзЗ ржмрж╛ржХрзНржпржЧрзБрж▓рж┐ ржмрзЗржЫрзЗржЫрзЗржи, рж╕рзЗржЧрзБрж▓рзЛ ржХрж┐ржирзНрждрзБ ржорзЛржХрзНрж╖ржоред ржкржбрж╝рж▓рзЗржЗ ржнрж╛рж░рждрзЗрж░ рж╕ржм рж╕ржВржШржмрж╛ржжрзА ржмрзБржЭрзЗ ржпрж╛ржмрзЗржи, ржХрзА ржмрж┐ржкржЬрзНржЬржиржХ рж▓рзЛржХржХрзЗ ржПржд ржжрж┐ржи ржорж╛ржерж╛рзЯ рждрзЛрж▓рж╛ рж╣ржЪрзНржЫрж┐рж▓ред рж╕рждрзНржпрж┐ рждрзЛ, ржпрзЗ рж▓рзЛржХржЯрж╛ ржПржХ ржЧрзЛржБ ржзрж░рзЗ рж▓рж┐ржЦрзЗ ржпрж╛рзЯ ржпрзЗ, ржЬрж╛рждрзАрзЯрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржж ржЖрж░ ржорж╛ржиржмрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржоржзрзНржпрзЗ ржкрзНрж░ржмрж▓ ржмрж┐рж░рзЛржзрж┐рждрж╛ ржЖржЫрзЗ, ржЖрж░ рждрж╛ржЗ ржорж╛ржиржмрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржжржХрзЗ ржмрж╛ржж ржжрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржпрзЗ ржЬрж╛рждрзАрзЯрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржжржЯрж╛ ржкржбрж╝рзЗ ржерж╛ржХрзЗ, рж╕рзЗржЯрж╛ рж╕рж╛ржВржШрж╛рждрж┐ржХ ржмрж┐ржкржЬрзНржЬржиржХтАФ рждрж╛ржХрзЗ ржХрж┐ ржПржХрзНрж╖рзБржирж┐ 'ржмрж┐ржк'ржХрж░рж╛ ржЙржЪрж┐ржд ржирж╛? ржжрзАржиржирж╛рже ржмрждрзНрж░рж╛ ржорж╢рж╛ржЗрзЯрзЗрж░ ржорждрж╛ржорждржЯрж╛ржЗ ржзрж░рж╛ ржпрж╛ржХ ржирж╛ ржХрзЗржиред рзирзжрззрзк рж╕рж╛рж▓рзЗ ржЧрзБржЬрж░рж╛рждрзЗрж░ ржЬржирзНржп ржЧрзЛржЯрж╛ ржЫрзЯрзЗржХ ржЯрзЗржХрзНрж╕ржЯ ржмржЗ рж▓рж┐ржЦрзЗржЫрж┐рж▓рзЗржи рждрж┐ржирж┐ред рж╕рзЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗ ржкрзНрж░рж╛ржЪрзАржи ржнрж╛рж░рждрзЗрж░ ржЕрж╕рж╛ржорж╛ржирзНржп ржХрзГрждрж┐рждрзНржмрзЗрж░ ржЕржЬрж╛ржирж╛ рж╕ржм рждржерзНржп ржкрж░рж┐ржмрзЗрж╢ржи ржХрж░рзЗржЫрж┐рж▓рзЗржи, рж╕ржВржШрзАрзЯ ржорждрзЗ ржпрж╛рждрзЗ ржирждрзБржи ржкрзНрж░ржЬржирзНржо рж╕рзБрж╢рж┐ржХрзНрж╖рж┐ржд рж╣рзЯред рж▓рж┐ржЦрзЗржЫрж┐рж▓рзЗржи, ржкрзНрж░рж╛ржЪрзАржи ржнрж╛рж░рждржЗ ржкрзНрж░ржержо ржЧрж╛ржбрж╝рж┐ ржЖржмрж┐рж╖рзНржХрж╛рж░ ржХрж░рзЗ, ржмрж┐ржорж╛ржиржУред ржПржоржиржХрзА рж░ржХрзЗржЯржУред ржЧрзЛржЯрж╛ ржмрж┐рж╢рзНржмрзЗрж░ ржЬрзНржЮрж╛ржиржнрж╛ржгрзНржбрж╛рж░ ржкрзНрж░рж╛ржЪрзАржи ржнрж╛рж░ржд ржерзЗржХрзЗржЗ ржЯрзБржХрж▓рж┐ ржХрж░рж╛ ржмрж▓рзЗ ржЕржирзНржп ржХрзЛржиржУ ржжрзЗрж╢рзЗрж░ рж╕ржВрж╕рзНржХрзГрждрж┐, ржЬрзНржЮрж╛ржиржмрж┐ржЬрзНржЮрж╛ржи ржирж╛ ржЬрж╛ржирж╝рж▓рзЗржЗ ржЪрж▓рзЗ, ржП ржХржерж╛ржЗ ржХржд рж╕рзБржирзНржжрж░ ржХрж░рзЗ ржмрзБржЭрж┐рзЯрзЗржЫрж┐рж▓рзЗржи ржмрждрзНрж░рж╛ред ржЖрж░ рж╕рзЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗ ржжрзЗржЦрзБржи, рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛рже ржХрзА ржЬрж┐ржирж┐рж╕ред ржЖржЬ ржХрзЗржи, рж╕рзЗржЗ ржкрж░рж╛ржзрзАржи ржжрзЗрж╢рзЗржУ ржкрзНрж░рж╛ржЪрзАржи ржнрж╛рж░рждрзЗрж░ ржЬрзЯржЧрж╛ржи рждрж╛ржБрж░ рж╕рж╣рзНржп рж╣рзЯржирж┐, ржПржоржиржХрзА ржЧрзНржпрж╛рж▓ржнрж╛ржирж┐ржХ ржмрзНржпрж╛ржЯрж╛рж░рж┐ ржпрзЗ ржЧрж▓рзНржмржи ржЛрж╖рж┐рж░ ржЖржмрж┐рж╖рзНржХрж╛рж░, рж╕рзЗржЗ ржорж╣рж╛ржирзН рж╕рждрзНржпржЯрж┐ ржирж┐рзЯрзЗржУ рждрж┐ржирж┐ ржмрзНржпржЩрзНржЧржмрж┐ржжрзНрж░рзБржк ржХрж░рзЗ ржкрзНрж░ржмржирзНржз рж▓рж┐ржЦрзЗржЫрж┐рж▓рзЗржи, ржЕрж╣рзЛ, ржХрзА ржжрзБржГрж╕рж╣ рж╕рзНржкрж░рзНржзрж╛! ржЖржмрж╛рж░, ржЧрж╛ржБржзрзАржЬрж┐рж░ ржЕрж╕рж╣ржпрзЛржЧ ржирзАрждрж┐ржХрзЗржУ рждрж┐ржирж┐ ржкрж╛рждрзНрждрж╛ ржжрзЗржиржирж┐, рж╕рзНржмрж╛ржзрзАржирждрж╛ ржЖрж░ ржЖрждрзНржорж╢ржХрзНрждрж┐рж░ ржирж╛ржорзЗ ржмрзЗрж╢рж┐ ржмрзЗрж╢рж┐ рж╕рзНржмржжрзЗрж╢рж┐ржкржирж╛ рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржирж╛-ржкрж╕ржирзНржжрзНред рж╕рзНржмржжрзЗрж╢рж┐ ржЖржирзНржжрзЛрж▓ржирзЗрж░ ржкрж┐ржЫржиржкрж╛ржирзЗ ржЪрж╛ржУрзЯрж╛ ржжрзЗрж╢ржкрзНрж░рзЗржо рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржкрзЛрж╖рж╛ржЪрзНржЫрж┐рж▓ ржирж╛ ржмрж▓рзЗ рж▓рж┐ржЦрзЗржЫрж┐рж▓рзЗржи: 'ржЖржорж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржЕрждрзАржд рждрж╛рж╣рж╛рж░ рж╕ржорзНржорзЛрж╣ржиржмрж╛ржг ржжрж┐рзЯрж╛ ржЖржорж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржнржмрж┐рж╖рзНржпрзОржХрзЗ ржЖржХрзНрж░ржоржг ржХрж░рж┐рзЯрж╛ржЫрзЗред'рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржХржбрж╝рж╛ рж╕ржорж╛рж▓рзЛржЪржирж╛ рж╢рзБржирзЗ ржЧрж╛ржБржзрзА ржмрж╛ ржжрзЗрж╢ржмржирзНржзрзБрж░ ржорждрзЛ ржирзЗрждрж╛рж░рж╛ ржХрзЗржмрж▓ рждрж░рзНржХ ржХрж░рзЗ ржкрж╛рж░ ржкрж╛ржиржирж┐, ржирж┐ржЬрзЗржжрзЗрж░ ржоржд ржЪрзБржкржЪрж╛ржк ржЦрж╛ржирж┐ржХ ржкрж╛рж▓рзНржЯрзЗржУ ржирж┐рзЯрзЗржЫрж┐рж▓рзЗржиред рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛ржерзЗрж░ ржкрж╛рж▓рзНрж▓рж╛рзЯ ржкржбрж╝рзЗ рждрж╛ржБржжрзЗрж░ ржЬрж╛рждрзАрзЯрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржЬрж╛ржирж▓рж╛ржЧрзБрж▓рзЛ ржПржХржЯрзБ ржЦрзБрж▓рзЗ ржжрж┐рждрзЗ рж╣рзЯрзЗржЫрж┐рж▓, ржнрж╛рж░рждрзАрзЯрждрзНржм ржмрж╕рзНрждрзБржЯрж┐ржХрзЗ ржПржХржЯрзБ ржмржбрж╝ ржХрж░рзЗ ржжрзЗржЦрждрзЗ рж╣рзЯрзЗржЫрж┐рж▓ред ржжрзЗржЦрзБржи ржХрж╛ржгрзНржбред ржЧрж╛ржБржзрзА ржпрж╛ржБржХрзЗ рж╕рж╛ржорж▓рж╛рждрзЗ ржкрж╛рж░рзЗржиржирж┐, ржмрждрзНрж░рж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржЖржЧржорж╛рж░рзНржХрж╛ ржЬрж╛рждрзАрзЯрждрж╛рж░ рж╕рж┐рж▓рзЗржмрж╛рж╕рзЗ рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржирж╛ржорзЗрж░ ржкрж╛рж╢рзЗ рж▓рж╛рж▓ржХрж╛рж▓рж┐рж░ ржврзНржпрж╛ржБржбрж╝рж╛ ржкржбрж╝ржмрзЗ ржирж╛, ржПржУ ржХрж┐ рж╣рзЯ?
рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржЬрж╛рждрзАрзЯрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржж-ржмрж┐рж░рзЛржзрж┐рждрж╛ рж╢рзБржирзЗ рж╕рзЗ ржжрж┐ржи ржмрж┐ржжрзЗрж╢рзЗржУ рж▓рзЛржХржЬржирзЗрж░ ржЪрзЛржЦ ржХржкрж╛рж▓рзЗред ржПржЗ рждрзЛ ржарж┐ржХ ржПржХрж╢рзЛ ржмржЫрж░ ржЖржЧрзЗ, рззрзпрззрзм-рззрзн рж╕рж╛рж▓рзЗ ржХрзА ржХрж╛ржгрзНржбржЗ ржирж╛ рж╣рж▓ рждрж╛ржБрж░ 'ржЬрж╛рждрзАрзЯрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржж'ржмржХрзНрждрзГрждрж╛ ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ, ржЖржорзЗрж░рж┐ржХрж╛ ржЬрж╛ржкрж╛ржи ржЪрж┐ржирзЗ! ржЖржорзЗрж░рж┐ржХрж╛ рж╕ржлрж░рзЗрж░ ржкрж░ ржмрж▓рж╛ржмрж▓рж┐ рж╣рж▓, ржЫрзЗрж▓рзЗржкрж┐рж▓рзЗрж░ ржорж╛ржерж╛ ржЦрж╛ржЪрзНржЫрзЗржи ржкрзНрж░рж╛ржЪрзНржпрзЗрж░ рж╕рж╛ржзрзБ-ржЯрж╛ржЗржк рж▓рзЛржХржЯрж┐, ржирзЯрждрзЛ ржХрзЗржЙ ржмрж▓рждрзЗ ржкрж╛рж░рзЗ, ржЬрж╛рждрж┐ ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ ржЧрж░рзНржм ржХрж░рж╛ржЯрж╛ ржЖрж╕рж▓рзЗ 'ржЗржирж╕рж╛рж▓рзНржЯ ржЯрзБ рж╣рж┐ржЙржорзНржпрж╛ржирж┐ржЯрж┐'? ржЪрж┐ржирзЗ рж░ржЯрзЗ ржЧрзЗрж▓, ржПржХржЯрж╛ ржкрж░рж╛ржзрзАржи рж╣рждржнрж╛ржЧрзНржп ржжрзЗрж╢рзЗрж░ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖ ржмрж▓рзЗржЗ ржПржЗ ржнрж╛рж░рждрзАрзЯ ржХржмрж┐ ржЕржоржи ржорж┐ржиржорж┐ржирзЗ, ржХрзЗржмрж▓ рж╢рж╛ржирзНрждрж┐ ржРржХрзНржп ржПржЗ рж╕ржм ржирзНржпрж╛ржХрж╛-ржХржерж╛ред ржЬрж╛ржкрж╛ржирзЗ ржпржЦржи рждрж┐ржирж┐ ржкрзМржБржЫрж▓рзЗржи, ржнрж┐ржбрж╝рзЗ ржнрж┐ржбрж╝рж╛ржХрзНржХрж╛рж░ред ржЖрж░ рж╕ржлрж░рж╢рзЗрж╖рзЗ, рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржЬрж╛рждрзАрзЯрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржж-рждрж░рзНржЬржи рж╢рзЛржирж╛рж░ ржкрж░ ржлрзЗрж░рж╛рж░ ржжрж┐ржи ржмрж┐ржжрж╛рзЯ ржжрж┐рждрзЗ ржПрж▓рзЗржи ржорж╛рждрзНрж░ ржЬржирж╛ ржжрзБржЗ-рждрж┐ржи! рждрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржорждрзЗ, ржжрзЗрж╢ ржУ ржЬрж╛рждрж┐рж░ ржЬржирзНржп ржХрж╛ржЬ ржпрзЗ рж▓ржбрж╝рж╛ржЗ ржжрж┐рзЯрзЗржЗ рж╢рзБрж░рзБ ржХрж░рждрзЗ рж╣рзЯ, рж╕рзЗржЯрж╛ржУ рж▓рзЛржХржЯрж╛ ржмрзЛржЭрзЗ ржирж╛ред ржмржбрж╝ ржмржбрж╝ ржЪрж┐ржирзНрждрж╛ржмрж┐ржжрж░рж╛ ржП ржжрж┐ржХрзЗ рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛ржерзЗрж░ ржХржерж╛ рж╢рзБржирзЗ ржорзБржЧрзНржз, рж╕рзЗ-ржУ ржнрж╛рж░рзА ржмрж┐ржкржж! ржЯрзЗржЧрзЛрж░ ржирж╛ ржХрж┐ ржнржмрж┐рж╖рзНржпрзО-ржжрзНрж░рж╖рзНржЯрж╛, prescient! ржЖрж░ ржжрзЗрж╢рзЗрж░ ржорж╛ржЯрж┐рждрзЗ ржЬржУрж╣рж░рж▓рж╛рж▓ ржирзЗрж╣рж░рзБ ржХрзА ржмрж▓рж▓рзЗржи, рж╕рзЗржЯрж╛ ржирж┐рж╢рзНржЪрзЯржЗ ржмрждрзНрж░рж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржоржирзЗ ржХрж░рж╛рждрзЗ рж╣ржмрзЗ ржирж╛! ржирзЗрж╣рж░рзБрж░ ржорждрзЗ, рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛рже рж╣рж▓рзЗржи 'ржЗржирзНржЯрж╛рж░ржирзНржпрж╛рж╢ржирж╛рж▓рж┐рж╕рзНржЯ ржкрж╛рж░ ржПржХрзНрж╕рзЗрж▓рзЗржирзНрж╕', рж╢рзНрж░рзЗрж╖рзНржа ржЖржирзНрждрж░рзНржЬрж╛рждрж┐ржХрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржжрзА, ржпрж┐ржирж┐ ржПржХрж╛ржЗ ржнрж╛рж░рждрзЗрж░ ржЬрж╛рждрзАрзЯрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржнрж┐рждржЯрж╛ржХрзЗ ржЪржУржбрж╝рж╛ ржХрж░рзЗ ржжрж┐рзЯрзЗржЫрзЗржи!тАФржЬрж╛рждрзАрзЯрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржнрж┐ржд ржЪржУржбрж╝рж╛! рждржмрзЗржЗ ржмрзБржЭрзБржи! ржирзЗрж╣рж░рзБржХрзЗ ржорзЛржжрзАрж░рж╛ ржирж┐рж░рзНржмрж╛рж╕ржи ржжрж┐рж▓рзЗржи, ржЖрж░ ржирзЗрж╣рж░рзБрж░ рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛ржержХрзЗ ржПржЦржиржУ ржжрж┐рж▓рзЗржи ржирж╛?
ржПржХржЯрж╛ рж╕ржирзНржжрзЗрж╣ рж╣ржЪрзНржЫрзЗред рж╕рж┐рж▓рзЗржмрж╛рж╕рзЗ 'ржирзНржпрж╛рж╢ржирж╛рж▓рж┐ржЬржо'рж▓рзЗржЦрж╛ржЯрж┐ ржЫрж┐рж▓ ржмрж▓рзЗ ржУржЗржЯрж╛ржЗ ржмрждрзНрж░рж╛ ржмрзНрж░рж┐ржЧрзЗржб ржмрзЗрж╢рж┐ ржХрж░рзЗ ржЦрзЗрзЯрж╛рж▓ ржХрж░рзЗржЫрзЗржиред ржХрж┐ржирзНрждрзБ ржнржжрзНрж░рж▓рзЛржХрзЗрж░ рж╕ржм рж▓рзЗржЦрж╛ржЗ ржпрзЗ ржЖрж░ржПрж╕ржПрж╕-ржПрж░ 'ржмрж┐ржк'ржкрж╛ржУрзЯрж╛рж░ ржпрзЛржЧрзНржп, рж╕рзЗржЯрж╛ ржПржЦржиржУ ржУржБрж░рж╛ ржмрзЛржЭрзЗржиржирж┐! ржЖрж░рзЗ ржорж╢рж╛ржЗ, ржПржХржЯрзБ ржЙрж▓рзНржЯрзЗ ржжрзЗржЦрзБржи ржнрж╛рж░рждржмрж░рзНрж╖рзАрзЯ рж╕ржорж╛ржЬ, рж╣рж┐ржирзНржжрзБ-ржорзБрж╕рж▓ржорж╛ржи ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ ржкрзНрж░ржмржирзНржзржЧрзБрж▓рзЛ, ржЧрзЛрж░рж╛, ржШрж░рзЗ ржмрж╛ржЗрж░рзЗ, ржЙржкржирзНржпрж╛рж╕ ржХ'ржЯрж╛ред ржЦрзЗрзЯрж╛рж▓ ржХрж░рзЗ ржжрзЗржЦрзБржи ржЧрж╛ржжрж╛ ржЧрж╛ржжрж╛ ржЧрж╛ржи-ржХржмрж┐рждрж╛рзЯ ржХрзА рж╕ржм ржмрж▓рзЗржЫрзЗржи ржЙржирж┐ред рж╢рзБржзрзБ ржЬрж╛рждрзАрзЯрждрж╛ржмрж╛ржж ржирзЯ, рж╣рж┐ржирзНржжрзБ ржнрж╛рж░ржд ржмрзНржпрж╛ржкрж╛рж░ржЯрж╛ржЗ ржорж╛ржирзЗржи ржирж╛ ржнржжрзНрж░рж▓рзЛржХ! ржЖрж░рзНржп-ржЕржирж╛рж░рзНржп-рж╣рж┐ржирзНржжрзБ-ржорзБрж╕рж▓ржорж╛ржи-рж╢ржХ-рж╣рзВржг-ржкрж╛ржарж╛ржи-ржорзЛржЧрж▓, рж╕ржм ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ ржирж╛ржХрж┐ ржнрж╛рж░ржд ржмрж╛ржирж╛рждрзЗ рж╣ржмрзЗ, ржПржЗ рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржЖржмржжрж╛рж░ред ржЬрж╛рждрж┐ржнрзЗржж, ржмрж░рзНржгрж╛рж╢рзНрж░ржо рждрзЛ ржПржХржжржо ржЙржбрж╝рж┐рзЯрзЗ ржжрж┐рзЯрзЗржЫрзЗржиред ржХржд ржмржбрж╝ ржжрзБржГрж╕рж╛рж╣рж╕ ржпрзЗ ржмрж▓рзЗржЫрзЗржи, ржмрзНрж░рж╛рж╣рзНржоржгрж░рж╛ ржпрзЗржи ржоржи рж╢рзБржЪрж┐ ржХрж░рзЗ рждржмрзЗржЗ ржПржЧрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржЖрж╕рзЗржи 'ржнрж╛рж░рждрждрзАрж░рзНрже'рждрзИрж░рж┐рж░ ржХрж╛ржЬрзЗред рж╕рзНржкрж╖рзНржЯрж╛рж╕рзНржкрж╖рзНржЯрж┐ ржмрж▓рзЗржЫрзЗржи, ржЖрж░рзНржп ржжрзНрж░рж╛ржмрж┐ржбрж╝ рж╣рж┐ржирзНржжрзБ ржорзБрж╕рж▓ржорж╛ржи ржЗрждрзНржпрж╛ржжрж┐ 'ржмрж┐рж░рзБржжрзНржзрждрж╛рж░ рж╕ржорзНржорж┐рж▓ржи ржпрзЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗ рж╣ржЗрзЯрж╛ржЫрзЗ рж╕рзЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗржЗ рж╕рзМржирзНржжрж░рзНржп ржЬрж╛ржЧрж┐рзЯрж╛ржЫрзЗред'ржнрж╛рж░рждржмрж░рзНрж╖ ржмрж▓рждрзЗ ржорж┐рж▓ржи ржорж┐рж╢рзНрж░ржг рж╕ржорзНржорж┐рж▓ржитАФ ржШрзНржпрж╛ржиржШрзНржпрж╛ржи ржХрж░рзЗ рж╕рзЗржЗ ржПржХ ржХржерж╛, рж╕рж╛рж░рж╛ ржЬрзАржмржиред рж░рж╛рж╖рзНржЯрзНрж░ ржмрж▓рждрзЗржЗ ржпржжрж┐ ржПржХржЪрж╛рж▓рж╛ ржПржХрж░ржЩрж╛ ржХрж┐ржЫрзБ рждрзИрж░рж┐ рж╣рзЯ, рж╕рзЗржЗ ржнрзЯрзЗ рж╕ржорж╛ржирзЗ ржмрж▓рзЗ ржЧрж┐рзЯрзЗржЫрзЗржи, ржЫрзЛржЯ ржЫрзЛржЯ рж╕ржорж╛ржЬ ржирж┐ржЬрзЗрж░рж╛ржЗ рж░рж╛рж╖рзНржЯрзНрж░ ржЧржбрж╝ржмрзЗ, ржЫрзЛржЯ ржЧрзНрж░рж╛ржо, ржЫрзЛржЯ ржкрж▓рзНрж▓рж┐, ржЫрзЛржЯ ржЧрзЛрж╖рзНржарзА, рж╕ржорзНржкрзНрж░ржжрж╛рзЯредтАФ ржП рж╕ржм ржкржбрж╝рж▓рзЗ ржмрждрзНрж░рж╛-рж░рж╛ ржкрж╛рж░ржмрзЗржи рж╕рзНржерж┐рж░ ржерж╛ржХрждрзЗ? рж░рж╛рж╖рзНржЯрзНрж░рзАрзЯ рж╕рзНржмрзЯржВрж╕рзЗржмржХ рж╕ржВржШрзЗрж░ рж╕рзЗржмржХ рждрж╛ржБрж░рж╛, рждрж╛ржБрж░рж╛ ржирж╛ рж╢ржкрже ржирж┐рзЯрзЗржЫрзЗржи ржпрзЗ рждрж╛ржБржжрзЗрж░ рж░рж╛рж╖рзНржЯрзНрж░ ржорж╣рзО ржмрзГрж╣рзО рж╣рж┐ржирзНржжрзБ рж░рж╛рж╖рзНржЯрзНрж░, ржЙржЪрзНржЪржмрж░рзНржгрзЗрж░ ржкржмрж┐рждрзНрж░ ржмрзНрж░рж╛рж╣рзНржоржгрзНржп рж╣рж┐ржирзНржжрзБрждрзНржм ржЫрж╛ржбрж╝рж╛ рж╕ржм рж╕рзЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗ ржЕрж╢рзБржЪрж┐, ржЕржЧрзНрж░рж╛рж╣рзНржп ржПржмржВ рж╣ржирзНрждржмрзНржп? рждрж╛ржБржжрзЗрж░ ржнрж╛рж░рждржмрж░рзНрж╖ ржЖрж░ рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ ржарж╛ржХрзБрж░рзЗрж░ ржнрж╛рж░рждржмрж░рзНрж╖рзЗрж░ ржоржзрзНржпрзЗ ржП рж░ржХржо ржорзБржЦрзЛржорзБржЦрж┐ рж╕рзЛржЬрж╛рж╕рзБржЬрж┐ рж╕ржВржШрж░рзНрж╖, рждржмрзБ рж▓рж╛рж▓ржХрж╛рж▓рж┐рж░ ржврзНржпрж╛ржБржбрж╝рж╛ ржкржбрж╝ржмрзЗ ржирж╛? ржпрж┐ржирж┐ ржмрж▓рзЗржи 'ржорзБржХрзНржд ржпрзЗржерж╛ рж╢рж┐рж░', ржпрж┐ржирж┐ 'рждрзБржЪрзНржЫ ржЖржЪрж╛рж░рзЗрж░ ржорж░рзБржмрж╛рж▓рзБрж░рж╛рж╢рж┐'рждрзЗ ржПржд ржХрж╛ржБржбрж╝рж┐ ржХрж╛ржБржбрж╝рж┐ ржЖржкрждрзНрждрж┐ рждрзЛрж▓рзЗржи, ржПржЗ ржирждрзБржи ржЧрзЛрж░ржХрзНрж╖ржХ ржнрж╛рж░ржд рж╕рзЗ рж▓рзЛржХрзЗрж░ ржорж╛ржерж╛рзЯ ржШрзЛрж▓ ржврзЗрж▓рзЗ ржмрж┐ржжрзЗрзЯ ржжрзЗржмрзЗ ржирж╛?
рж╢рзБржзрзБ рж▓рзЗржЦрж╛ржкрждрзНрж░ ржирзЯ, рж▓рзЛржХржЯрж╛рж░ ржЧрзЛржЯрж╛ржЯрж╛ржЗ ржмрзЗржжржо ржЧрзЛрж▓ржорзЗрж▓рзЗред ржирж┐ржЬрзЗрж░ ржмрзЗржБржЪрзЗ ржерж╛ржХрж╛ржЯрж╛ржЗ ржХрзЗржоржи ржПржХржЯрж╛ ржнрж╛ржЩрж╛ржнрж╛ржЩрж┐ ржжрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржЧржбрж╝рж╛ред ржмрж╛ржбрж╝рж┐ржЯрж╛ржУ ржХрзЗржоржиржзрж╛рж░рж╛, ржПржХ ржжрж┐ржХрзЗ ржмрзЗржорзНржоржкржирж╛, ржЕржирзНржп ржжрж┐ржХрзЗ ржмрж┐рж▓рж┐рждрж┐ ржжрзЛржЖржБрж╢рж▓рж╛ржкржирж╛, ржЧрж╛ржиржмрж╛ржЬржирж╛рзЯ ржмрж┐рж▓рж┐рждрж┐ ржЫрж╛ржк, ржкрзЛрж╢рж╛ржХржЖрж╢рж╛ржХрзЗ ржорзБрж╕рж▓ржорж╛ржирж┐ ржЖржжрж▓ред ржЖрж░ рждрж┐ржирж┐ ржирж┐ржЬрзЗ? ржХрзЛржиржУ ржПржХржЯрж╛ ржЫрж╛ржБржЪрзЗ рждрж╛ржБржХрзЗ ржХрзЗржЙ ржирж╛ ржлрзЗрж▓рждрзЗ ржкрж╛рж░рзЗ, ржПржЗ рж╣рж▓ рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржЬрзАржмржиржн'рж░ рж▓ржбрж╝рж╛ржЗред ржЖржЗржбрзЗржирзНржЯрж┐ржЯрж┐ ржжрзЗржЦрж▓рзЗржЗ рж╕рзЗржЯрж╛ржХрзЗ ржнрзЗржЩрзЗржЪрзБрж░рзЗ ржирждрзБржи ржХрж░рзЗ ржЧржбрж╝рзЗ ржирж╛ржУ, рждржмрзЗржЗ ржирж╛ ржХрж┐ ржмрж┐рж╢рзНржмржорж╛ржиржмрзЗрж░ ржжрж┐ржХрзЗ ржПржЧрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржпрж╛ржУрзЯрж╛тАФ ржЖрж░рзЗ, рж╕ржВржШржмрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ рж╕рж╛ржХрзНрж╖рж╛рзО ржЕрзНржпрж╛ржирзНржЯрж┐ржерж┐рж╕рж┐рж╕ рждрзЛ ржПржЗ рж▓рзЛржХржЯрж╛ржЗ! ржжрж┐ржмрзЗ ржЖрж░ ржирж┐ржмрзЗ, ржорзЗрж▓рж╛ржмрзЗ ржорж┐рж▓рж┐ржмрзЗ, ржХржерж╛ржЯрж╛рж░ ржоржзрзНржпрзЗ ржХрзА рж╕рж╛ржВржШрж╛рждрж┐ржХ ржЕржирзНрждрж░рзНржШрж╛ржд, ржнрзЗржмрзЗ ржжрзЗржЦрзЗржЫрзЗржи ржПржХ ржмрж╛рж░? рждрж╛ржЗ ржмрж▓ржЫрж┐рж▓рж╛ржо, ржирждрзБржи ржнрж╛рж░рждрждрзАрж░рзНржерзЗ рж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛рже ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖ржЯрж╛ржХрзЗржЗ ржирж┐рж╖рж┐ржжрзНржз ржХрж░рж╛ рж╣рзЛржХред
тЖз
рднрд╛рд░рдд рдЪреАрди рд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рджрдГрдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЗрдЬрд░рд╛рдЗрд▓ рдХреЗ рджрдо рдкрд░ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдХреАрдПрдХрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдЦрдВрдбрддрд╛ рдХреЛ рджрд╛рдВрд╡ рдкрд░ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдпрд╣ рдЦрддрд░рдирд╛рдХ рдЦреЗрд▓ рдмреА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рд╣реИред рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкрдХ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╕реАрдорд╛рд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдирдХреНрд▓рд▓рдмрд╛рдбреАрд╝ рддрдХ рдлреИрд▓реА рджрд╛рд░реНрдЬрд┐рд▓рд┐рдВрдЧ рдХреА рд╣рд┐рд╕рд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдВрдЬреНрдЮрд╛рди рди рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рд▓реЗ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рди рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕рдВрд╕рджредрдРрд╕реЗ рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдд рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдЧрд░ рдпреБрджреНрдз рд╣реБрдЖ рддреЛ рд╣рд┐рдорд╛рд▓рдпрдФрд░ рд╣рд┐рдорд╛рд▓рдпреА рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд▓рд╣реВрд▓реБрд╣рд╛рди рд╣реЛрдирд╛ рддрдп рд╣реИред рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рднрд╛рд░рдд рдЪреАрди рд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рджрдГрдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЗрдЬрд░рд╛рдЗрд▓ рдХреЗ рджрдо рдкрд░ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдХреАрдПрдХрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдЦрдВрдбрддрд╛ рдХреЛ рджрд╛рдВрд╡ рдкрд░ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдпрд╣ рдЦрддрд░рдирд╛рдХ рдЦреЗрд▓ рдмреА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рд╣реИред
┬ардЪреАрди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкрдХ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╕реАрдорд╛рд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдирдХреНрд▓рд▓рдмрд╛рдбреАрд╝ рддрдХ рдлреИрд▓реА рджрд╛рд░реНрдЬрд┐рд▓рд┐рдВрдЧ рдХреА рд╣рд┐рд╕рд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдВрдЬреНрдЮрд╛рди рди рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рд▓реЗ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рди рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕рдВрд╕рджредрдРрд╕реЗ рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдд рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдЧрд░ рдпреБрджреНрдз рд╣реБрдЖ рддреЛ рд╣рд┐рдорд╛рд▓рдпрдФрд░ рд╣рд┐рдорд╛рд▓рдпреА рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд▓рд╣реВрд▓реБрд╣рд╛рди рд╣реЛрдирд╛ рддрдп рд╣реИред
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рд╣рдордиреЗ рдЬрдм рджрд╛рд░реНрдЬрд┐рд▓рд┐рдВрдЧ рдХреЗ рдкрд╣рд╛рдбрд╝реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рд╕рдорд░реНрдерд┐рдд рдЧреЛрд░рдЦрд╛рд▓реИрдВрдб рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдЦрдВрдбрддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдЧрдВрднреАрд░ рдЦрддрд░реЗ рдХреА рдЪреЗрддрд╛рд╡рдиреА рджреА рдФрд░ рд╕рд┐рдХреНрдХрд┐рдо рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдкреВрд░реЗ рдЙрддреНрддрд░рдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдХреА рджреЗрд╢ рд╕реЗ рдХрдЯ рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдВрджреЗрд╢рд╛ рдЬрддрд╛рдпрд╛,рддреЛ рдЗрд╕рдХреА рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рдореЗрдВ рджреЗрд╢рджреНрд░реЛрд╣реА рдХрд╛ рддрдордЧрд╛ рджреЗ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рднрдХреНрддреЛрдВ рдиреЗред
рд╣рдо рд╣рд┐рдорд╛рд▓рдп рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗ рдФрд░ рдпрд╣ рдмрддрд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗ рдХрд┐ рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рди рд╣рд┐рдорд╛рд▓рдп рдФрд░ рди рд╣рд┐рдорд╛рд▓рдпреА ┬ардЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рдкрд░рд╡рд╛рд╣ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рди рднрд╛рд░рдд рджреЗрд╢ рдХреАредрддреЛ рдЙрддреНрддрд░рд╛рдЦрдВрдб рд╕реЗ рдкреВрдЫрд╛ рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рдХрд┐ рд╣рдо рдРрд╕рд╛ рдХреИрд╕реЗ рд╕реЛрдЪ рд▓реЗрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВредрд╕рддреНрддрд╛рд╡рд░реНрдЧ,рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рддреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдкрд░ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдЙрдард╛рдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рд╕реАрдзреЗ рдХрдореНрдпреБрдирд┐рд╕реНрдЯ рдХрд╣ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЕрдм рдбреЛрднрд╛рд▓ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдирдп рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдХрд╣рд╛ рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рди рд╕реЗрд╡рдХ рдХреА рдЪреАрди рдпрд╛рддреНрд░рд╛ рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рднрд╛рд░ рдЪреАрди рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдордЭреМрддрд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рдпреЗрдЧрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕рд┐рдХреНрдХрд┐рдо рдХреА рд╕реАрдорд╛ рдкрд░ рдордВрдбрд░рд╛рддреЗ рдпреБрджреНрдз рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рджрд▓ рдЫрдВрдЯ рдЬрд╛рдпреЗрдВрдЧреЗред
рдЪреАрди рдХрд╛ рддреЗрд╡рд░ рдмрджрд▓рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рднрдХреНрддрдЬрди рдордВрддреНрд░рдЬрд╛рдк,рдпрдЬреНрдЮ,рд╣реЛрдо рдХреА рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рдкрджреНрдзрддрд┐ рд╕реЗ рдЪреАрди рдХреЛ рдзреВрд▓ рдЪрдЯрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рддреИрдпрд╛рд░реА рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдЗрд╕реА рдмреАрдЪ рдЙрддреНрддрд░рд╛рдЦрдВрдб рдореЗрдВ рдЪреАрдиреА рд╕реЗрдирд╛ рдХреА рдШреБрд╕рдкреИрда рдХреА рдЦрдмрд░ рдЖ рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИредрдЕрд░реБрдгрд╛рдЪрд▓ рд╕реЗ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдкрд╛рдХрд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рди рд╣реЛрдХрд░ рдЕрд░рдм рд╕рд╛рдЧрд░ рддрдХ рдЪреАрди рдХрд╛ рдпреБрджреНрдзрдХ рдХрд╛рд░реАрдбреЛрд░ рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдХрд╢реНрдореАрд░ рдХреЗ рд▓рдЧрд╛рддрд╛рд░ рдЕрд╢рд╛рдВрдд рд░рд╣рдиреЗ рдФрд░ рдХрд╢реНрдореАрд░ рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╣рд▓ рди рдирд┐рдХрд▓рдиреЗ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдкрд╛рдХрдЕрдзрд┐рдХреГрдд рдХрд╢реНрдореАрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдЪреАрдиреА рд╕реИрдирд╛ рдиреЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдк рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдмрд╛рдВрдз рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдХрд╢реНрдореАрд░ рдХрд╛ рдПрдХ рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕реЗ ┬ардкрд░ 1962 рдХреА рд▓рдбрд╝рд╛рдИ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рд╕реЗ рдЪреАрди рдХрд╛ рдХрдмреНрдЬрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рдЕрдХреНрд╕рд╛рдИ рдЪреАрди рдХрд╣рд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИредрдЬрд┐рд╕рдХреЗ рдирддреАрдЬрддрди рдХрд╢реНрдореАрд░ рддреАрдиреЛрдВ рддрд░рдл рд╕реЗ рдЪреАрдиреА рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛рдмрдВрджреА рд╕реЗ рдШрд┐рд░рд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдЙрдкрджреНрд░рд╡,рдЕрд╢рд╛рдВрддрд┐ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╕реАрдорд╛ рдХреЗ рднреАрддрд░ рд╣реА рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕реЗрдирд╛ рдХреА рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛рдмрдВрджреА рдХрд╛рдиреВрди рдФрд░ рд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рд╕реЗ рдирд┐рдкрдЯрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдХрд╣реАрдВ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓реЗ рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рддреИрдпрд╛рд░реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рджрд╛рд░реНрдЬрд┐рд▓рд┐рдВрдЧ рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдЧреГрд╣рдпреБрджреНрдз рдХреЗ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдд рд╣реИредрдкрд╣рд╛рдбрд╝ рд╕реЗ рдЦреБрдХрд░реА рдЬреБрд▓реВрд╕ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд┐рдЧреБрдбрд╝реА рдХреЛ рдХреВрдЪ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕реЗрдирд╛ рдХреА рдЧрд╛рдбрд╝рд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рдирдХрд╛рд░рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрдВрдж рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рддреАрд╕реНрддрд╛ рдмреИрд░рд╛рдЬ рдХреЗ рдирдЬрджреАрдХ рд╕реБрдХрдирд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдЯрдХреА рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИрдВредрддреЛ рдмрд╛рдХреА рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЛ рдЕрд╕рдо рдФрд░ рдЙрддреНрддрд░ рдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕реЗ рдЬреЛрдбрд╝рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓рд╛ 18 рдХрд┐рдореА рдХрд╛ рдЪрд┐рдХрди рдиреЗрдХ рдХрд╛рд░реАрдбреЛрд░ рдХреА рднреА рдирд╛рдХреЗрдмрдВрджреА рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рдЧрд╛рд░рдЦрд╛рд▓реИрдВрдб рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдЕрд▓рдкреБрд░рджреБрдЖрд░ рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдЗрд▓рд╛рдХреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдлреИрд▓ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╡рд╣рд╛ рд╣рд┐рдВрд╕рд╛ рдХрд╛ рддрд╛рдВрдбрд╡ рд╣реИред
рд╕рд┐рдХрд┐рдХрдо рдХреА рдирд╛рдХреЗрдмрдВрджреА рддреЛ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рд╣реИ рд╣реА,рдЕрд▓реАрдкреБрд░ рджреБрдЖрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдлреИрд▓реА рд╣рд┐рдВрд╕рд╛ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдЕрдм рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреА рднреА рдирд╛рдХреЗрдмрдВрджреА рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИредрдпрд╣ рдЗрд▓рдХрд╛ рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛рджреЗрд╢ рд╕реЗ рднреА рд╕рдЯрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдФрд░ рднреВрдЯрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдЬрдВрдЧрд▓ рдЕрд▓реНрдлрд╛ рдЙрдЧреНрд░рд╡рд╛рджрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдХрдмреНрдЬреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╣реИредрдпрд╣ рдбреЛрдХрд▓рд╛рдо рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рд╣реИред
рдХреИрд▓рд╛рд╕ рдорд╛рдирд╕рд░реЛрд╡рд░ рдХреА рдпрд╛рддреНрд░рд╛ рдЪреАрди рдиреЗ рд░реЛрдХрджреА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдирдп рдЗрд╕ рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛ рдХреЛ рд╕реБрд▓рдЭрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╕рдХреА рд╣реИредрдПрд╡рд░реЗрд╕реНрдЯ рддрдХ рдЪреАрди рдХреА рд╕рдбрд╝рдХреЗрдВ рдкрд╣реБрдВрдЪ рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдмреНрд░рд╣реНрдордкреБреНрддреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рдкрд╛рдиреА рд░реЛрдХрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдЪреАрдиреА рдЙрдкрдХреНрд░рдо рдХрд╛ рдирдорд╛рдорд┐ рдмреНрд░рд╣реНрдордкреБрддреНрд░ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рд╕реЗ рдХреЛрдИ рд▓реЗрдирд╛ рджреЗрдирд╛ рдЙрд╕реАрддрд░рд╣ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдирдорд╛рдорд┐ рдЧрдВрдЧреЗ рдХрд╛ рд╣рд┐рдорд╛рд▓рдп рдХреА рд╕реБрд░рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рд╕реЗ рдХреБрдЫрднреА рд▓реЗрдирд╛ рджреЗрдирд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рд╣рдо рдмрд╛рд░ рдмрд╛рд░ рдЗрд╕ рдмрд╛рдд рдкрд░ рдЬреЛрд░ рджреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдХрд┐ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдХреБрдЪрд▓рдХрд░ рдХреЛрдИ рдпреБрджреНрдз рдЬреАрддрдирд╛ рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИредрдЙрддреНрддрд░рдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рд╕реЗ рд▓реЛрдХрд░ рдХрд╢реНрдореАрд░ рддрдХ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдЪреАрди рд╕реАрдорд╛ рдХреЗ рддрдорд╛рдо рдЗрд▓рд╛рдХреЗ рдЕрд╢рд╛рдВрдд рд╣реИ ┬ардФрд░ рдкрд╛рдХрд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рд╕реИрдиреНрдп рд╕рд╣рдпреЛрдЧ рдХреЗ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓реЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдПрдЬрдВрдбреЗ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рдЬрд╡рд╛рдмреА рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛рдмрдВрджреА рд╣реБрдИ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрднрд╛рд╖рдг рд╕реЗ рдЪреБрдирд╛рд╡ рдЬреАрддреЗ рдЬрд╛ рд╕рдХрддреЗ рд╣реИ,рдпреБрджреНрдз рдирд╣реАрдВредрдЕрдлрдЧрд╛рдирд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рди,рдИрд░рд╛рди рдпрд╛ рд░реВрд╕ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓реЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдХреЛрдИ рд╕рдордЭреМрддрд╛ рддреЛ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ,рддреЛ рдиреЗрдкрд╛рд▓ рдФрд░ рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдз рднреА рддреЗрдЬреА рд╕реЗ рдмрд┐рдЧрдбрд╝ рдЧрдпреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдиреЗрдкрд╛рд▓,рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛рджреЗрд╢ рдФрд░ рд╢реНрд░реАрд▓рдВрдХрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдЪреАрди рдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рд░ рдмрдврдЮрддрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдкрд╛рдХрд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рди рдХреА рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдЕрдЧрд░ рдЪреАрдирдХреЗ рдХрдмреНрдЬреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╣реИрдВ рддреЛ рдмрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдЪреАрди рдХреА рдЬрдмрд░реНрджрд╕реНрдд рдШреБрд╕рдкреИрда рд╣реИредрд╕рдВрдШреА рджреЗрд╢рднрдХреНрдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреА рдЪрд╣реЗрддреА рдХрдВрдкрдирд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рднрд╛рд░реА рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░реА рд╕рдордЭреМрддреЗ рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╣реБрдП рд╣реИрдВредрдорд╕рд▓рди рдлреЛрд░ рдЬреА рдореЛрдмрд╛рдЗрд▓ рдХрд╛ рддрд╛рдЬрд╛ рдХрд┐рд╕реНрд╕рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЗрдЬрд░рд╛рдЗрд▓ рдХреЗ рджрдо рдкрд░ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдХреАрдПрдХрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдЦрдВрдбрддрд╛ рдХреЛ рджрд╛рдВрд╡ рдкрд░ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдпрд╣ рдЦрддрд░рдирд╛рдХ рдЦреЗрд▓ рдмреА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рд╣реИред
рдЪреАрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкрдХ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╕реАрдорд╛рд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдирдХреНрд▓рд▓рдмрд╛рдбреАрд╝ рддрдХ рдлреИрд▓реА рджрд╛рд░реНрдЬрд┐рд▓рд┐рдВрдЧ рдХреА рд╣рд┐рд╕рд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдВрдЬреНрдЮрд╛рди рди рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рд▓реЗ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рди рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕рдВрд╕рджредрдРрд╕реЗ рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдд рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдЧрд░ рдпреБрджреНрдз рд╣реБрдЖ рддреЛ рд╣рд┐рдорд╛рд▓рдпрдФрд░ рд╣рд┐рдорд╛рд▓рдпреА рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд▓рд╣реВрд▓реБрд╣рд╛рди рд╣реЛрдирд╛ рддрдп рд╣реИред
тЖз
рдЬреЛ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝рдкрддрд┐ рдЕрд░рдмрдкрддрд┐ рди рд╣реЛрдВ,рдРрд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдЦреБрджрдХрд╢реА рдХрд░ рд▓реЗрдВ? рдЖрдкрдХреЗ рдмрдЪрдд рдЦрд╛рддреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд╕реЗ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдЬрдорд╛ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдлрд┐рд░ рдиреАрддреАрд╢реЗ рдХреБрдорд╛рд░ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдЧреЛрднрдХреНрдд рдмрдиреЗ рд░рд╣рд┐рдпреЗ! рд╕рд╛рд░реА рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдмрдВрдж рд╣реЛ рдФрд░ рдХрд░реЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рд░рд╛ рдмреЛрдЭ рдЖрдк рдкрд░ рд╣реЛ рддреЛ рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдирдВрдмрд░реА рд╡рдЬреВрдж рдФрд░ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝реЛрдВ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд░рдХреНрддрд╣реАрди рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рдХреА рдмрдзрд╛рдИ! рд╣рдЧрдиреЗ рдкрд░ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреАрд▓рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдЬрдм рдЧрдЬрдм рд╕реНрд╡рдЪреНрдЫрддрд╛ рдЕрднрд┐рдпрд╛рди рдирдорд╛рдорд┐ рдЧрдВрдЧреЗ!рдирдорд╛рдорд┐ рдмреНрд░рд╣реНрдордкреБрддреНрд░! рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рдЬреЛ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝рдкрддрд┐ рдЕрд░рдмрдкрддрд┐ рди рд╣реЛрдВ,рдРрд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдЦреБрджрдХрд╢реА рдХрд░ рд▓реЗрдВ?
рдЖрдкрдХреЗ рдмрдЪрдд рдЦрд╛рддреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд╕реЗ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдЬрдорд╛ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдлрд┐рд░ рдиреАрддреАрд╢реЗ рдХреБрдорд╛рд░ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдЧреЛрднрдХреНрдд рдмрдиреЗ рд░рд╣рд┐рдпреЗ!
рд╕рд╛рд░реА рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдмрдВрдж рд╣реЛ рдФрд░ рдХрд░реЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рд░рд╛ рдмреЛрдЭ рдЖрдк рдкрд░ рд╣реЛ рддреЛ рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдирдВрдмрд░реА рд╡рдЬреВрдж рдФрд░ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝реЛрдВ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд░рдХреНрддрд╣реАрди рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рдХреА рдмрдзрд╛рдИ!
рд╣рдЧрдиреЗ рдкрд░ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреАрд▓рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдЬрдм рдЧрдЬрдм рд╕реНрд╡рдЪреНрдЫрддрд╛ рдЕрднрд┐рдпрд╛рди рдирдорд╛рдорд┐ рдЧрдВрдЧреЗ!рдирдорд╛рдорд┐ рдмреНрд░рд╣реНрдордкреБрддреНрд░!
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдореЗрдВ рдкреНрд░рдЪрд▓рд┐рдд рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдиреЛрдЯ рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдорд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рднрд╛рд░реА рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рдЦрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИредрдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдФрд░ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рдХреА рджреБрд╣рд░реА рдорд╛рд░ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдмреИрдВрдХреЛ рд╕реЗ рдпрд╣ рднрд╛рд░реА рдирдХрджреА рдирд┐рдХрд▓ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рдирд┐рдХрд╛рд▓рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╕реАрдзреЗ рдмрдЪрдд рдЦрд╛рддреЗ рдкрд░ рд╣рдорд▓рд╛ рдмреЛрд▓ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреА рдЬрдирд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдиреЗредрдмреАрдорд╛ рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рд▓рд┐рдВрдХрдб рд╣реИредрдЕрд▓реНрдк рдмрдЪрдд рдпреЛрдЬрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ рдореЗрдВ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рд╣реА рдХрдЯреЛрддреА рдХрд░ рджреА рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИредрдЕрдм рдмрдЪрдд рдЦрд╛рддреЗ рдкрд░ рдЗрд╕ рдХреБрдард╛рд░рд╛рдШрд╛рдд рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдмрдЪрдд рдЦрд╛рддреЗ рдХреЗ рдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ рдкрд░ рдЬрд┐рдВрджрдЧреА рдЧреБрдЬрд╛рд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдордЬрдмреВрд░ рдмреЗрд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдЦреБрджрдХрд╢реА рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рдмрд╛рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рд╡рд┐рдХрд▓реНрдк рдмрдЪрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрд╕рдВрд╕рдж рд╕рддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рдЗрддрдиреЗ рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рдЬрдирд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╕рдиреНрдирд╛рдЯрд╛ рдмрддрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЗрд╕ рджреЗрд╢ рдореЗрдВ рдЬреЛ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝рдкрддрд┐ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдЬреАрдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рд╣рдХ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдмрд╣реБрдЬрди,рдЕрд▓реНрдкрд╕рдВрдЦреНрдпрдХ рд╕реНрддреНрд░реА рдЙрддреНрдкреАрдбрд╝рди рддрд╛рдбрд╝рди рд╡рдз рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рд░рд╛рдорд░рд╛рдЬреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рднреБрдЦрдорд░реА рдФрд░ рдмреЗрд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░реА рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╕рд┐рдд рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреА рдореБрдирд╛рдлрд╛рд╡рд╕реВрд▓реА рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдВрдвреЛрд╝рдВ рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд▓реБрдУрдВ рдХреА рдореБрдирд╛рдлрд╛рд╡рд╛рд╕реВрд▓реА рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдЕрдирдВрдд рдмреЗрджрдЦрд▓реА,рдирд┐рд░рдВрддрд░ рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд╣рдЬрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рд╕реБрдзрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╡рдЬреВрдж рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдФрд░рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдордВрджреА рдХрд╛ рд╢рд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕ рдордВрджреА рд╕реЗ рдЙрдмрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рдФрд░ рд░рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рдордВрддреНрд░рд╛рд▓рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рд╡рдХреАрд▓ рдХрд╛ рдиреВрд╕реНрдЦрд╛ рд╣реИ рдорд░реЛрдВ рд╣реБрдУрдВ рдкрд░ рдирд┐рд░рдВрддрд░ рдХреБрдард╛рд░рд╛рдШрд╛рдд рдФрд░ рд▓рд╛рд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд▓ рдиреЛрдВрдЪрд░ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдХрд╛ рдмреЛрдЭ рд╣рд▓реНрдХрд╛ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рддрд╛рдХрд┐ рд▓рд╛рдЦреЛрдВ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рдХрд╛ рдиреНрдпрд╛рд░рд╛ рд╡рд╛рд░рд╛ рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рдкрддрдВрдЬрд▓рд┐ рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░ рдЬрд┐рдУ рдЬрд┐рдУ рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдорд╛рд▓рд╛рдорд╛рд▓ рд▓рд╛рдЯрд░реА рдмрди рдЬрд╛рдпреЗ рдореБрдХрдореНрдорд▓ рдХреИрд╕рд┐рдиреЛред
рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд┐рдУ рдЬрд┐рдУ рдЕрдкреНрдкреЛ рдЕрдкреНрдкреЛ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдЪрдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЕрдВрдЦрдб рдпреБрджреНрдз рдордВрддреНрд░ рдЬрд╛рдк ,рд╣реЛрдо рдпрдЬреНрдЮ рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рдЕрдиреБрд╖реНрдард╛рди рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╡рдЬреВрдж рдЙрддреНрддрд░рд╛рдЦрдВрдб рдореЗрдВ рдЪреАрдиреА рдШреБрд╕рдкреИрда рдкрд░ рдореМрди рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдХрд╣рд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдпрд╣ рдорд╛рдореВрд▓реА рджрд┐рдирдЪрд░реНрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдЪреАрди рд╕реАрдорд╛ рдХреАредрдЕрд╕рдВрд╡реИрдзрд╛рдирд┐рдХ рдЖрд╣рд▓реВрд╡рд╛рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╕рдордп рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдЕрдм рдбреЛрднрд╛рд▓ рд░рд╛рдЬрдирдп рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рджреЗрд╢ рдордВрддреНрд░рд╛рд▓рдп рд╢реЛрдкреАрд╕ рд╣реИредрд╣рд╡рд╛рдИ рдЙрдбрд╝рд╛рди рдХрд╛ рдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХреА рдЗрдЬрд░рд╛рдЗрд▓реА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рд╕рдВрдкреНрд░рднреБрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЬрдпрд╢реНрд░реАрд░рд╛рдо рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреА рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рдкрддрдВрдЬрд▓рд┐ рд╕реБрдирд╛рдореА рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрдз рд╕рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рд╕рдордп рд╣реИредрдЬрдирддрд╛ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рджреНрд░реЛрд╣реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рд╣реИредрд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдирд┐рд╖рд┐рджреНрдз рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдЕрднрд┐рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯред
рд╣рдЧрдиреЗ рдкрд░ рднреА рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рд▓рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рд╕реБрдирд╣рд▓реЗ рджрд┐рдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рди рд╕реЗрд╡рдХ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдорд░рд╛рдЬреНрдп рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд╣рдЬрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рд╕реБрдзрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдордзреНрдп рд╣рд░ рдЬрдирд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рдиреАрддрд┐рдЧрдд рдХрд░рддрдм рдХреА рдмрд▓рд┐рд╣рд╛рд░реАредрдЬреНрдирдо рдЪрд╛рд╣реЗ рдЬрд┐рд╕ рдкрд╣рдЪрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╣реЛ,рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдирд┐рд╖реНрдгрд╛рдд рд╣рд░ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рджреЗрд╢рднрдХреНрдд рдирд╛рдЧрд░рд┐рдХ рдХрд╛ рдкрд░рдо рдХрд░реНрддрд╡реНрдп рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЪрд╛рд╣реЗ рд╕рд░ рдХрдЯ рдЬрд╛рдпреЗ,рдЫрд┐рдиреНрдирдорд╕реНрддрд╛ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рд╣реА рдЦреВрди рдкреАрддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдЬрдп рд╢реНрд░реА рд░рд╛рдо рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рд░рд╛ рд╡реИрд╕реЗ рд╣реА рд▓рдЧрд╛рддреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдкрд░ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдмрдВрдз рдкреНрд░рд╕реНрддрд╛рд╡ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдк рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рдЧрддрд┐рд╢реАрд▓ рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдирдпреЗ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдмрдВрдХрд┐рдо рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдЖрдирдВрджрдорда рдХрд╛ рдорд╣рд┐рдорд╛рдордВрдбрди рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рд╣реИредрдЧреИрд░ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп,рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдХреЗ рдХреЗрд╕рд░рд┐рдпрд╛рдХрд░рдг рдкрд░ рдЙрд╕реЗ рдХреЛрдИ рдРрддрд░рд╛рдЬ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕ рдЦрдВрдбрд┐рдд рдкрд╣рдЪрд╛рди рдФрд░ рдЦрдВрдбрд┐рдд рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рдирд╛рдЧрд░рд┐рдХрддрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛрддреА рд╣реИред
рд╣рдо рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХрд╛ рдвреЛрд▓ рдирдЧрд╛рдбрд╝рд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣реЗ рдЬрд┐рддрдирд╛ рдкреАрдЯреЗ,рд╕рдЪ рдпрд╣реА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЕрдВрдЧреНрд░реЗрдЬ рдЬреЛ рдЦрдВрдбрд┐рдд рджреЗрд╢ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЫреЛрдбрд╝ рдЧрдпреЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЙрд╕ рдЯреБрдХрдбрд╝рд╛ рдЯреБрдХрдбрд╝рд╛ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рд╣рдо рдЬреА рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдЕрдм рднреА рд╣рдо рдХреЛрдИ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдореБрдХреНрддрдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдЕрдм рд╡рд┐рдХрд╕рд┐рдд рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╕рд┐рдд рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдорд╛ рдкрд░ рдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ рдХреЗ рдмрджрд▓реЗ рдЯреИрдХреНрд╕ рджреЗрдирд╛ рдкрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реИредрд╡рд╣реА рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИредрдмрд╣реБрдд рдЬрд▓реНрджреА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдорд╛ рд░рдЦрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЖрдкрдХреЛ рдмреИрдВрдХреЛ рдХреЛ рднреБрдЧрддрд╛рди рдХрд░рдирд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛редрдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ рдХреА рднреВрд▓ рдЬрд╛рдЗрдпреЗред
рднрд╡рд┐рд╖реНрдпрдирд┐рдзрд┐ рдХрд╛ рдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ рдЪреМрджрд╣ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд╢рдд рд╕реЗ рдЧрд┐рд░рдХрд░ рдЖрда рдлреАрд╕рдж рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ ┬арддреЛ рдЗрд╕ рд╣рд┐рд╕рд╛рдм рд╕реЗ рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдмрдЪрддрдЦрд╛рддреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ рддреЛ рд╢реВрдиреНрдп рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рдирд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣рд┐рдПред
рд╣реБрдЖ рдирд╣реАрдВ рддреЛ рдЦреИрд░ рдордирд╛рдЗрдпреЗредрд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рддреЛ рдЬрдпрд╢реНрд░реАрд░рд╛рдо рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рд░рд╛ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдХрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдХреЛ рджреЗрд╢рднрдХреНрдд рд╕рд╛рдмрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рджреЗрд░ рди рд▓рдЧрд╛рдЗрдпреЗ,рд╡рд░рдирд╛ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рджреНрд░реЛрд╣реА рд╕рдордЭреЗ рдЬрд╛рдУрдЧреЗредрдорд╛рд░реЗ рдЬрд╛рдУрдЧреЗред
рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрдЪрдд рдЦрд╛рддреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рдЬрдорд╛рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдХреМрди рд▓реЛрдЧ рд╣реИрдВ,рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рд╕реВрдЪреА рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдпрд╣ рдЬрд╛рдирдХрд╛рд░реА рд╕рд╛рд░реНрд╡рдЬрдирд┐рдХ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рдпреЗ рддреЛ рдХреЛрдИ рдирд╡рд╛рдЬ рд╢рд░реАрдл рдЬреИрд╕рд╛ рдзрдорд╛рдХрд╛ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝рдкрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рдЕрд░рдмрдкрддрд┐ рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдореЗрдВ рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рди,рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рдореЗрд╣рдирддрдХрд╢,рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рдмрд╣реБрдЬрди,рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рдЕрд▓реНрдкрд╕рдВрдЦреНрдпрдХ,рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕реА ,рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рдкрд┐рдЫрдбрд╝реЗ рдФрд░ рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╣реИрдВ,рдпрд╣ рдЖрдВрдХрдбрд╝рд╛ рдорд┐рд▓ рдЬрд╛рдпреЗ, рддреЛ рд░рд╛рдорд░рд╛рдЬреНрдп рдХреЗ рд╕реБрдирд╣рд▓реЗ рджрд┐рдиреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рддрд┐рд▓рд┐рд╕реНрдо рдЦреБрд▓ рдЬрд╛рдпреЗред
рдмрд╣рд░рд╣рд╛рд▓ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡реЛрдЯреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЬрдирдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдирд┐рдзрд┐ рдЧреНрд░рд╛рдо рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рди, ┬ардХреМрдВрд╕рд┐рд▓рд░, рд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рдпрдХ, рд╕рд╛рдВрд╕рдж, рдордВрддреНрд░реА,рд╡рдЧреИрд░рд╣ рд╡рдЧреИрд░рд╣ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдореВрдЪрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рдкрддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЕрд░рдмрдкрддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╕рд┐рдд рдореБрдХреНрддрдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рд▓ рдЪреЗрд╣рд░рд╛ рдпрд╣реА рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдореЗрдВ рдЦреЗрдд рдЦрд▓рд┐рд╣рд╛рди , рдЬрд▓ ,рдЬрдВрдЧрд▓, рдЬрдореАрди,рдЧрд╛рдВрд╡,рджреЗрд╣рд╛рдд,рдЬрдирдкрдж рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдЧрд╛рдпрдм рд╣реИред
рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдФрд░ рдХреЗрд░рд▓ рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рд╕рдВрд╕рдж рд╕рддреНрд░ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рд░рд╣рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╡рдЬреВрдж рдХрд╣реАрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рд╣рд▓реНрд▓рд╛ рдЗрд╕реЗ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдЙрд╕реАрддрд░рд╣ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рджрд╛рд░реНрдЬрд┐рд▓рд┐рдВрдЧ рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░,рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕рдж рдореМрди рд╣реИред
рдлрд┐рд░ рдиреАрддреАрд╢реЗ рдХреБрдорд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рджрд╛рд╡рд╛ рд╕рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рди рд╕реНрд╡рдпрдВрд╕реЗрд╡рдХ рдХреЛ рдЪреБрдиреМрддреА рджреЗрдирд╛ рд╡рд╛рд▓рд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рдорд╛рдИ рдХрд╛ рд▓рд╛рд▓ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрд╕реНрддрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдЕрдЦрдВрдб рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рд╕рдордп рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред56 рдЗрдВрдЪ рдХрд╛ рд╕реАрдирд╛ 16 рдордИ,2017 рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдЕрдм рдХреБрд▓ рдХрд┐рддрдирд╛ рдЗрдВрдЪ рдЪреМрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдШреЗрд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдореБрдВрд╣ рдЫреБрдкрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╣рд░ рдХреНрд╖рддреНрд░рдк рдХрд╛ рдорди рдЖрдХреБрд▓ рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдХреБрд▓ рд╣реИ,рдпрд╣ рднреА рд╢рд╛рдпрдж рдиреАрддреАрд╢реЗ рдХреБрдорд╛рд░ рдмрддрд╛ рд╕рдХреЗрдВрдЧреЗред
рдмрд╣рд░рд╣рд╛рд▓ рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рдЬрд░реБрд░рддреЗрдВ рдФрд░ рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рд╕реЗрд╡рд╛рдПрдВ рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХреЗреЗ рд╣рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА,рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдХрд╛рдпрджреЗ рдХрд╛рдиреВрди рдЦрддреНрдо рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА ,рдЕрдирдВрдд рдмреЗрджрдЦрд▓реА рдХреЗ рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдЬрдп рд╢реНрд░реАрд░рд╛рдо рдХреЗ рдирд╛рд░реЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЕрд╢реНрд╡рдореЗрдз рдЕрднрд┐рдпрд╛рди рдХреЛ рдХреИрд╕реЗ рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рдЙрддреНрд╕рд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдмрджрд▓ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ,рдХрд▓ рдПрдХ рдЭрдЯрдХреЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдмреИрдВрдХ рдмрдЪрдд рдЦрд╛рддреЗ рдкрд░ рдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ рдПрдХ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд╕реЗ рдХрдо рдЬрдорд╛рд░рд╛рд╢рд┐ рдкрд░ рдЪрд╛рд▓реВ рдЪрд╛рд░ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд╢рдд рдХреЗ рдмрджрд▓реЗ рд╕рд╛рдврд╝реЗ рддреАрди рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд╢рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдФрд░ рд░рд╕реЛрдИ рдЧреИрд╕ рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдЦрддреНрдо рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╣рд░ рдорд╣реАрдиреЗ рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рд░рд╕реЛрдИ рдЧреИрд╕ рдХреА рдХреАрдордд рдЪрд╛рд░ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рдХреА рджрд░ рд╕реЗ рдмрдврд╛рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдорд░реЛрдВ рд╣реБрдУрдВ рдкрд░ рдХреБрдард╛рд░рд╛ рдШрд╛рдд рдХреА рдХрд╛рд░реНрд░рд╡рд╛рдИ рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рдл рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИред
рдЬреА рдирд╣реАрдВ,рдЗрд╕ рдкрд░ рддрд╛рдЬреНрдЬреБрдм рдордд рдХреАрдЬрд┐рдпреЗредрдореБрдХреНрддрдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХреА рдорд╣рд┐рдорд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рд╕рд┐рд░реНрдл рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдирдВрдмрд░ рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕ рдирдВрдмрд░ рдХреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рдЙрд╕рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рд╡рдЬреВрдж рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдмрдЪреНрдЪреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдкрд╛рд╕ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдирдВрдмрд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ,рддреЛ рд╡рд╣ рдХрднреА рднреА рдХрд╣реАрдВ рднреА рдореБрдарднреЗрдбрд╝ рдпрд╛ рд▓рд┐рдВрдЪрд┐рдВрдЧ рдореЗрдВ рдорд╛рд░рд╛ рдЬрд╛рдпреЗрдЧрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЬрд┐рдВрджрд╛ рднреА рд░рд╣рд╛ рддреЛ рдкреБрд░рдЦреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рдВрдкрддреНрддрд┐ рд╕реЗ рдмреЗрджрдЦрд▓ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рдпреЗрдЧрд╛ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рдЙрд╕рдХрд╛ рдмрд╛рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рдкрд╣рдЪрд╛рди рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рд╡рд╛рдп рдорд╛рдиреНрдп рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдЖрдк рдЙрд╕реЗ рдХреБрдЫ рднреА рд╣рд╕реНрддрд╛рдВрддрд░рд┐рдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд░ рд╕рдХрддреЗред
рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдирдВрдмрд░ рд╣реБрдЖ рддреЛ рдЬрд┐рд╕ рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдХреЗ рд╣рд╕реНрддрд╛рддрдВрд░рдг рдХреЗ рдЯреНрд░рд┐рдХрд▓рд┐рдВрдЧ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдФрдЪрд┐рддреНрдп рдмрддрд╛рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ,рд╡рд╣ рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдЕрдм рдкреВрд░реА рддрд░рд╣ рдЦрддреНрдо рд╣реИредрдмрд╛рдХреА рд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рд╕реВрд░рдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрднрд╡рд┐рд╖реНрдп рдЕрдВрдзрдХрд╛рд░ рд╣реИредрдиреАрд▓реЗ рд╢рд╛рд░реНрдХ рдХреЗ рд╢рд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рдЦреЗрд▓ рд╣реА рдЙрд╕рдХрд╛ рдмрдЪрд╛ рдЦреБрдЪрд╛ рдЬреАрд╡рди рд╣реИ рдпрд╛ рдлрд┐рд░ рдмрдЬрд░рдВрдЧреА рд╕реИрдирд┐рдХ рдмрдирдХрд░ рд▓рд┐рдВрдЪрд┐рдВрдЧ рдЙрд╕рдХрд╛ рдПрдХрдореЗрд╡ рд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рд╣реИред
рднрд╛рд▓реБрдУрдВ рдФрд░ рд╕рд╛рдВрдвреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЙрдЫрд▓рдХреВрдж рдХреА рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдФрд░ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рдХреА рджреЛрд╣рд░реА рдорд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдордВрджреА рдХрд╛ рд╢рд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рд╣реИредрдкрдВрджреНрд░рд╣ рд▓рд╛рдЦ рдмреЗрд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рд╕рд┐рд░реНрдл рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗредрдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХрд╛ рдкрд░рд╕реНрддреА рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдирд┐рд╡реЗрд╢,рдирд┐рдЬреАрдХрд░рдг рдФрд░ рдЖрдЯреЛрдореЗрд╢рди рд╕реЗ рдмрд╛рдХреА рдлрд┐рдЬрд╛рдВ рдЫрдВрдЯрдиреА рдЫрдВрдЯрдиреА рд╣реИредрдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рдПрдХрд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рдЖрдо рд▓реЛрдЧ рдЬрд┐рдВрджрд╛ рдмрдЪреЗрдВрдЧреЗ,рдХрд╣рдирд╛ рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИредрдЙрддреНрдкрд╛рджрди рдкреНрд░рдгрд╛рд▓реА рдардк рд╣реИред
рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдХрд╛ рдорддрд▓рдм рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдирдВрдд рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рд░ред
рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рдорддрд▓рдм рдирд┐рд░рдВрдХреБрд╢ рдореБрдирд╛рдлрд╛рд╡рд╕реВрд▓реА рд╣реИред
рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рд░рд╛рдЬ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдпрд╢реНрд░реАрд░рд╛рдо рдХреЗ рдирд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдореБрдирд╛рдлрд╛рд╡рд╕реВрд▓реА рдХрд╛ рдЪрд╛рдХрдЪреМрдмрдВрдж рдЗрдВрддрдЬрд╛рдо рд╣реА рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рдкреНрд░рдмрдВрдзрди,рд░рд╛рдЬрдирдп рд╣реИред
рдбреЛрдХрд▓рд╛рдо рдкрд░ рдЪреАрди рдХреЗ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓реЗ рдпреБрджреНрдз рдХреА рдЪреБрдиреМрддреА рдЦрдбрд╝рд╛ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рджреЗрд╣рд░рд╛рджреВрди рд╕реЗ рд╕рд┐рд░реНрдл 140 ┬ардХрд┐рдореА рджреВрд░ ┬ардЙрддреНрддрд░рд╛рдЦрдВрдб рдХреЗ рдЪрдореЛрд▓реАрдЬрд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ 25 рдЬреБрд▓рд╛рдИ рдХреЛ рдмрд╛рд░рд╛рд╣реЛрддреА рдореЗрдВ рдЪреАрдиреА рдШреБрд╕рдкреИрда рдкрд░ рдЕрдЦрдВрдб рдореМрди рд╣реИ рдбреЛрднрд╛рд▓ рд░рд╛рдЬрдирдп рд╣реИредрднрд╛рд░рдд рдЪреАрди рд╕реАрдорд╛ рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдЗрд▓рд╛рдХреЗ рдореЗрдВ 1962 рдХреА рд▓рдбрд╝рд╛рдИ рдХреЗ рд╡рдХреНрдд рднреА рдЪреАрди рдХрд╛ рджрд╛рд╡рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдерд╛редрд╕рдиреН 2000 рдХреЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдЪреАрди рджреНрд╡рд┐рдкрдХреНрд╖реАрдп рд╕рдордЭреМрддреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдЗрд╕ рдЗрд▓рд╛рдХреЗ рдХреА рд╕реБрд░рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдЕрд░реНрджреНрдз рд╕реИрдирд┐рдХ рдмрд▓ рднрд╛рд░рдд рддрд┐рдмреНрдмрдд рд╕реАрдорд╛ рдкреБрд▓рд┐рд╕ рдХреЗ рд╣рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рд╣реИредрдЕрдм рдЪреАрдиреА рдШреБрд╕рдкреИрда рддрдм рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдЬрдм рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд┐рдУ рдЬрд┐рдУ рдЕрдкреНрдкреЛ рдЕрдкреНрдкреЛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рдХрдВрдкрдирд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреА рд╕рд░реНрд╡реЛрдЪреНрдЪ рдкреНрд░рд╛рдердорд┐рдХрддрд╛ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рд╣рд┐рддреЛ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдирдп рд╣реИред
рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рднрдбрд╝рд╛рд╕реА рдмрд╛рдмрд╛ рдпрд╢рд╡рдВрдд рдиреЗ рдпрд╣ рдЦрдмрд░ рд╢реМрдЪрд╛рд▓рдп рдХреЗ рдмрд┐рд▓ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдмреНрд░реЗрдХ рдХреА рдереАредрдЕрдм рдЧреЛрдкрд╛рд▓ рд░рд╛рдареА рдиреЗ рдЗрд╕рдкрд░ рдордВрддрд╡реНрдп рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рднрдХреНрддрдЬрди рддрд┐рд▓рдорд┐рд▓рд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдореЗрдВ рдЕрдиреЗрдХ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рд╕реНрд▓реИрдм рдореЗрдВ рд╢реМрдЪрд╛рд▓рдп рдЯреИрдХреНрд╕ рди рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рд╣рд╡рд╛рд▓рд╛ рджреЗрдХрд░ рд░рд╛рдареА рдХреЛ рддрдордЧрд╛ рджреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрд╣рдореЗрдВ рддрд╛рдЬреНрдЬреБрдм рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рднрдбрд╝рд╛рд╕реА рдмрд╛рдмрд╛ рдХреЗ рдкреЛрд╕реНрдЯ рдкрд░ рдХреЛрдИ рд╣рд▓реНрд▓рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реБрдЖ рдФрд░ рди рддрдм рдХрд┐рд╕реА рднрдХреНрдд рдиреЗ рдХреБрдЫ рдордВрддрд╡реНрдп рдХрд░рдирд╛ рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╕рдордЭрд╛ред
рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдХреА рдкреИрджрд▓ рдмрдЬрд░рдВрдЧреА рд╕реЗрдирд╛ рдХреЗ рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрдЪрдд рдЦрд╛рддреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд╕реЗ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдЬрдорд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЙрди рдкрд░ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЗ рдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ рджрд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдХрдЯреМрддреА рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рдЕрд╕рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ,рд╣рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдорд╛рд▓реВрдо рд╣реИред
рдХрд░рд╕реБрдзрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рдордЬрд╛ рдпрд╣реА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдорд╛рд▓реВрдо рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрдбрд╝рддрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдкреЗрд╢реЗрд╡рд░ рдЬреЗрдмрдХрддрд░реЗ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдЙрд╕рдХреА рдЪреБрдиреА рд╣реБрдИ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреИрд╕реЗ рдЙрд╕рдХреА рдЬреЗрдм рдкрд░ рдЙрд╕реНрддрд░рд╛ рдЪрд▓рд╛рдХрд░ рд╕рд╛рд░рд╛ рдорд╛рд▓ рдорд╛рдлрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрд┐рд░реЛрд╣ рдХреА рдореБрдирд╛рдлрд╛рд╡рд╕реВрд▓реА рдореЗрдВ рд╢рд╛рдорд┐рд▓ рдХрд░рдХреЗ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдФрд░ рджреЗрд╢рднрдХреНрддрд┐ рдХреА рдЧреБрд╣рд╛рд░ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдХрд░ рд╢рд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдЬрди рдЧрдг рдХреЛ рдЬрдпрдХрд╛рд░рд╛ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛рдо рдХрд░ рджреЗрддреА рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИредрдЕрдм рдЖрдк рд╢реМрдЪрд╛рд▓рдп рдЯреИрдХреНрд╕ рдкрд░ рд╢реЛрдз рдХрд░рддреЗ рд░рд╣рд┐рдпреЗред
рдЧреЛрдкрд╛рд▓ рд░рд╛рдареА рдиреЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рд╣реИрдГ
рд╣рдЧрдиреЗ рдкрд░ GST
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рд╢реМрдЪрд╛рд▓рдп рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рдкрд░ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рд╡рд╕реВрд▓рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдЖреЫрд╛рджреА рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рдмрдиреЗ рдореЛрджреАред рдкрдВрдЬрд╛рдм рдореЗрдВ рд░реЛрдбрд╡реЗрдЬ рдмрд╕ рд╕реНрдЯреИрдВрдб рдкрд░ рд╕реБрд▓рдн рд╢реМрдЪрд╛рд▓рдп рдХреА рд░рд╕реАрдж рд╣реИ рдпреЗред 5 рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рд╢реМрдЪ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЪрд╛рд░реНрдЬ рдФрд░ рдПрдХ рд░реБрдкрдпрд╛ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреАред рдХреБрд▓ 6 рд░реБрдкрдпреЗред рдорд╣рдВрдЧрд╛рдИ рдЗрддрдиреА, рдЧрд░реАрдм рдЦрд╛ рди рдкрд╛рдП, рдФрд░, рдЕрдЧрд░ рд╣рдЧрдиреЗ рдЬрд╛рдП рддреЛ рдЯреИрдХреНрд╕ рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛рдПред рдЙрдзрд░ рдмрд┐рд╣рд╛рд░ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рдЧрдиреЗ рдЧрдП рдХрдИ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдЧрд╛рдВрд╡ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЧрд┐рд░рдлреНрддрд╛рд░ рдХрд░ рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛, рдХреНрдпрд╛ рддреЛ рдХрд┐ рдЦреЗрдд рдореЗ, рдЦреБрд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ, рдХреНрдпреЛрдВ рд╣рдЧ рдХреЗ рдЧрдиреНрджрдЧреА рдлреИрд▓рд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реЛред рдмреЗрдЪрд╛рд░реЗ рд╕реЛрдЪ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реЛрдВрдЧреЗ рдХрд┐ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдЕрдЪреНрдЫрд╛ рддреЛ рдЕрдВрдЧреНрд░реЗрдЬреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдореБрдЧрд▓реЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬ рдерд╛ред рдХрдо рд╕реЗ рдХрдо рдЪреИрди рд╕реЗ, рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рдЯреИрдХреНрд╕ рдХреЗ, рд╣рдЧ рддреЛ рдкрд╛рддреЗ рдереЗред
рдпрд╣ рдзрд░рддреА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдЕрдерд╡рд╛ рдорд╡реЗрд╢рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдорд▓ рд╕реЗ рдирд╣реАрдВ, рдЕрдкрд┐рддреБ рдкреЛрдЗрд▓рдерд┐рди, рдкреЗрдЯреНрд░реЛрд▓, рдбреАреЫрд▓, рдХрд╛рд░рдЦрд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдзреБрдПрдВ рдЕрдерд╡рд╛ рд╡рд╛рддрд╛рдиреБрдХреВрд▓рд┐рдд рд╕рдВрдпрдВрддреНрд░реЛрдВ рдХреА рдЧреИрд╕ рд╕реЗ рджреВрд╖рд┐рдд рд╣реЛрддреА рд╣реИред рдФрд░ рднреА рдХрдИ рдХрд╛рд░рдХ рд╣реИрдВ, рдореИрдиреЗ рдХреБрдЫ рдЧрд┐рдирд╛рдПред рдЗрди рдкреНрд░рджреВрд╖рдХ рддрддреНрд╡реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХрд╛, рдЪреАрди рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рджреЗрд╢ рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗ рдЕрдореНрдмрд╛рдиреА, рдЕрдбрд╛рдиреА рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдЙрддреНрддрд░рджрд╛рдпреА рд╣реИрдВред рдЦреБрд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╢реМрдЪ рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рдЗрди рдкрд░ рд░реЛрдХ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдУред рдмрд╛рдд рдмрд╛рд╣рд░ рдпрд╛ рднреАрддрд░ рд╢реМрдЪ рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рдирд╣реАрдВ , рдЕрдкрд┐рддреБ рдЯрдЯреНрдЯреА рдХреЗ рд╕рджреБрдкрдпреЛрдЧ рдХреА рд╣реИ рд╣рдВрд╕рд┐рдпреЗ рдорддред рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдЬреА рдпрд╣реА рдХрд░рддреЗ рдереЗред рд╡рд╣ рдореИрд▓реЗ рд╕реЗ рдЦрд╛рдж рдмрдирд╛рддреЗ рдереЗред рдкреБрд░рд╛рдиреА рдХрд╣рд╛рд╡рдд рднреА рд╣реИ :-
рдЧреЛрдмрд░, рдЯрдЯреНрдЯреА рдФрд░ рдЦрд▓реА
рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдЦреЗрддреА рджреБрдЧрдиреА рдлрд▓реА
рдордЬреЗ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рдпрд╣ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдпреЗ рдорд╛рдирдиреЗ рдХреЛ рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдЗрдХреЛрдиреЙрдореА рдХреА рд░рдлреНрддрд╛рд░ рдзреАрдореА рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИред рдФрд░ рдирд╛ рд╣реА рдпреЗ рдорд╛рдирдиреЗ рдХреЛ рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдореЛрд░реНрдЪреЗ рдкрд░ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдирд╛рдХрд╛рдо рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИред рддреАрди рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреА рдЙрдкрд▓рдмреНрдзрд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рдмрддрд╛рддреЗ рд╕рдордп рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рдордВрддреНрд░реА рдЕрд░реБрдг рдЬреЗрдЯрд▓реА рдиреЗ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рднреА рдХрдИ рдмрд╛рддреЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рдл рдХрд░ рджреАрдВред
рднрд▓реЗ рд╣реА рдЬреАрдбреАрдкреА рдХреА рд░рдлреНрддрд╛рд░ рд╕реБрд╕реНрдд рдкрдбрд╝ рдЧрдИ рд╣реЛред рднрд▓реЗ рд╣реА рд▓рдЧрд╛рддрд╛рд░ рдЫрдВрдЯрдиреА рдХреА рдЦрдмрд░реЗрдВ рдЖ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реЛрдВ, рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдорд╛рдирддреА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рддреАрди рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ рдЕрдЪреНрдЫрд╛ рдХрд╛рдо рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИред рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рдордВрддреНрд░реА рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реА рдЙрдкрд▓рдмреНрдзрд┐ рддреЛ рдпрд╣реА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдкрд░ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдирд┐рд╡реЗрд╢рдХреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рднрд░реЛрд╕рд╛ рдлрд┐рд░ рдХрд╛рдпрдо рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИред рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рдордВрддреНрд░реА рдпреЗ рднреА рдорд╛рдирдиреЗ рдХреЛ рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд┐ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдиреЗ рдЪреМрдереА рддрд┐рдорд╛рд╣реА рдореЗрдВ рдЧреНрд░реЛрде рдШрдЯрд╛ рджреАред
рдЬрдм рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рдЖрдпрд╛ рддреЛ рдПрдХ рдмрд╛рд░ рдлрд┐рд░ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдЬреЙрдмрд▓реЗрд╕ рдЧреНрд░реЛрде рдХреЗ рдЖрд░реЛрдк рдХреЛ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдЦрд╛рд░рд┐рдЬ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдЗрд╕реЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреИрддрд┐рдХ рдЬреБрдорд▓рд╛ рдХрд░рд╛рд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ред рдЗрд╕ рдореМрдХреЗ рдкрд░ рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рдордВрддреНрд░реА рдиреЗ рд╕рд╛рдл рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐ рди рддреЛ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рд▓рд╛рдЧреВ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреА рддрд╛рд░реАрдЦ рдмрджрд▓реЗрдЧреА, рди рджрд░реЗрдВред рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рдордВрддреНрд░реА рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдордиреЗ рджреЛ рдФрд░ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рд░рдЦреЗ рдЧрдПред рдмреВрдЪрдбрд╝рдЦрд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдорд╡реЗрд╢рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рдмрд┐рдХреНрд░реА рдкрд░ рд░реЛрдХ рдФрд░ рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдлреАред рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рдордВрддреНрд░реА рдиреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рдорд╛рдорд▓реЛрдВ рдкрд░ рдлреИрд╕рд▓рд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬреНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рд╣реИред
рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рдЬреВрди рдорд╣реАрдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ 8 рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рдЙрджреНрдпреЛрдЧреЛрдВ (рдХреЛрд░ рд╕реЗрдХреНрдЯрд░) рдХреА рдЧреНрд░реЛрде рд░реЗрдЯ рдХрдо рд╣реЛрдХрд░ 0.4 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рд╣реЛ рдЧрдИред рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдЬреВрди рдорд╣реАрдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ 8 рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рд╕реЗрдХреНрдЯрд░ рдХрд╛ рдЧреНрд░реЛрде рд░реЗрдЯ 7 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рдереАред рдЖрда рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рд╕реЗрдХреНрдЯрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдпрд▓рд╛, рдХрдЪреНрдЪрд╛ рддреЗрд▓, рдкреНрд░рд╛рдХреГрддрд┐рдХ рдЧреИрд╕, рд░рд┐рдлрд╛рдпрдирд░реА рдкреНрд░реЙрдбрдХреНрдЯреНрд╕, рдлрд░реНрдЯрд┐рд▓рд╛рдЗрдЬрд░, рдЗрд╕реНрдкрд╛рдд, рд╕реАрдореЗрдВрдЯ рдФрд░ рдмрд┐рдЬрд▓реА рдЙрддреНрдкрд╛рджрди рд╢рд╛рдорд┐рд▓ рд╣реИред
рдмрд┐рдЬрдиреЗрд╕ рд╕реНрдЯреИрдВрдбрд░реНрдЯ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рдиреАрддрд┐ рдЖрдпреЛрдЧ рдХреЗ рдЙрдкрд╛рдзреНрдпрдХреНрд╖ рдЕрд░рд╡рд┐рдВрдж рдкрд╛рдирдЧрдбрд┐рдпрд╝рд╛ рдиреЗ рдЧрдд рд╕рдкреНрддрд╛рд╣ рдХрд╣рд╛ рдХрд┐ рджреЗрд╢ 8 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рдХреА рд╡реГрджреНрдШрд┐ рджрд░ рдХреА рд░рд╛рд╣ рдкрд░ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╡рд░реНрд╖ 2017-18 рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рд╣реА рд╡рд╣ 7.5 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рдХреА рджрд░ рд╣рд╛рд╕рд┐рд▓ рдХрд░ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИред рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдорд╛рдирд╛ рдХрд┐ рд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рд╕реГрдЬрди рдПрдХ рдЪреБрдиреМрддреА рдмрдирд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╣реА рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ рдХрд┐ рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдХреА рдЕрдВрддрд┐рдо рддрд┐рдорд╛рд╣реА рдЖрддреЗ-рдЖрддреЗ рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ 8 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рдХреА рд╡реГрджреНрдШрд┐ рджрд░ рдЫреВрдиреЗ рд▓рдЧреЗрдЧреАред рдпрд╣ рдЖрдХрд▓рди рдЬрд░реВрд░рдд рд╕реЗ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдЖрд╢рд╛рд╡рд╛рджреА рдирдЬрд░ рдЖрддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рд╣рд╛рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рдЕрддреАрдд рдореЗрдВ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдХреЛ рдПрдХ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдПрдХ рдХрдИ рдЭрдЯрдХреЗ рд▓рдЧреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рджреЗрд╢ рдХрд╛ рдФрджреНрдпреЛрдЧрд┐рдХ рдЙрддреНрдкрд╛рджрди рд╕реВрдЪрдХрд╛рдВрдХ (рдЖрдИрдЖрдИрдкреА) рдЕрд╕реНрдерд┐рд░ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рдорд╣реАрдиреЗ рдЗрди рдЖрдВрдХрдбрд╝реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдорд╣рдЬ 1.7 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рдХреА рд╡реГрджреНрдШрд┐ рджреЗрдЦрдиреЗ рдХреЛ рдорд┐рд▓реА рдереАред рдЗрд╕реЗ рдордЬрдмреВрдд рд╕реБрдзрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдВрдХреЗрдд рддреЛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдорд╛рдирд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ред рдЖрдИрдЖрдИрдкреА рдХреЛ рдЙрдЪреНрдЪ рдЖрд╡реГрддреНрддрд┐ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рд╕рдВрдХреЗрддрдХ рдХреЗ рд░реВрдк рдореЗрдВ рдЗрд╕реНрддреЗрдорд╛рд▓ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдЪрд╛рд╣реЗ рдЬреЛ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░ рд╣реЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рддрдереНрдп рдпрд╣реА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдпрд╣ рдХрд╛рдлреА рд╕рдордп рд╕реЗ рдирд┐рдореНрд░ рд╕реНрддрд░ рдкрд░ рдмрдирд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИред рдЦрд╛рд╕рддреМрд░ рдкрд░ рдЯрд┐рдХрд╛рдК рдЙрдкрднреЛрдХреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд╕реНрддреБрдУрдВ рдФрд░ рдкреВрдВрдЬреАрдЧрдд рд╡рд╕реНрддреБрдУрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЬреБрдбрд╝реЗ рд╕реВрдЪрдХрд╛рдВрдХ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рдХрд░реЗрдВ рддреЛ рдРрд╕рд╛ рд╣реА рд╣реИред рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рддреЛ рдпрд╣реА рд╕рдВрдХреЗрдд рдорд┐рд▓рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╣рдорд╛рд░рд╛ рдФрджреНрдпреЛрдЧрд┐рдХ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд╛рд╣рдХ рдмрдирдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдорд╛рдорд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдВрдШрд░реНрд╖рд░рдд рд╣реА рд░рд╣реЗрдЧрд╛ред
рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рддрдХ рд╕реЗрд╡рд╛ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдЕрдм рддрдХ рдпрд╣ рд╕реНрдкрд╖реНрдЯ├п рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХреЗ рдЭрдЯрдХреЗ рд╕реЗ рдЙрдмрд░ рд░рд╣реА рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдордзреНрдпрдо рдЕрд╡рдзрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд╕реНрддреБ рдПрд╡рдВ рд╕реЗрд╡рд╛ рдХрд░ (рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА) рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдХреНрдпрд╛ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рджреЗрдЧреАред рдпрд╣ рдЙрдореНрдореАрдж рдХреА рдЬрд╛рдиреА рдЪрд╛рд╣рд┐рдП рдХрд┐ рд▓рдВрдмреА рдЕрд╡рдзрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рд╡реГрджреНрдШрд┐ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╕рдХрд╛рд░рд╛рддреНрдордХ рд╕рд╛рдмрд┐рдд рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдХреБрдЫ рд╣реА рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЙрдореНрдореАрдж рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдпрд╣ рдмрджрд▓рд╛рд╡ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдЦрд╛рд╕ рдХреАрдордд рдХреЗ рдЖрдПрдЧрд╛ред рдпрд╣ рдХреАрдордд рдЖрдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рддрд┐рдорд╛рд╣рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд╡реГрджреНрдШрд┐ рдХреЗ рдЖрдВрдХрдбрд╝реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдирдЬрд░ рдЖ рд╕рдХрддреА рд╣реИред рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдХреА рдЬрдЯрд┐рд▓рддрд╛ рдХреЛ рджреЗрдЦрддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдФрд░ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЬрд░реВрд░реА рдЧрд╣рд░реЗ рдмрджрд▓рд╛рд╡ рдХреЗ рдЕрд╕рд░ рдХреЛ рджреЗрдЦрддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдХрд╣рд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓реНрдкрдХрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХ рдпрд╛ рдордзреНрдпрдо рдЕрд╡рдзрд┐ рдХреЗ рдЕрд╕рд░ рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдХреЛрдИ рднреА рдЕрдиреБрдорд╛рди рд▓рдЧрд╛рдирд╛ рдареАрдХ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред рдЦрд╛рд╕рддреМрд░ рдкрд░ рд╕реЗрд╡рд╛ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдкрд░ рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рдЕрд╕рд░ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рдХрд░реЗрдВ рддреЛ рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рдЕрд╕рдВрдЧрдард┐рдд рдХрд╛рдо рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рд╣реИред рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рднреА рд╡реГрджреНрдШрд┐ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд╛рд╣рдХ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреА рд╕рдВрднрд╛рд╡рдирд╛ рдХрдо рд╣реА рд╣реИред рдРрд╕реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХрдо рд╕реЗ рдХрдо рдлрд┐рд▓рд╣рд╛рд▓ 8 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рдХреА рд╡реГрджреНрдШрд┐ рджрд░ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдиреБрдорд╛рди рдЙрдЪрд┐рдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкреНрд░рддреАрдд рд╣реЛрддрд╛ред
рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рдорд╣реАрдиреЗ рдордИ рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрд░ рд╕реЗрдХреНрдЯрд░ рдХреЗ рдЙрддреНрдкрд╛рджрди рдореЗрдВ 4.1 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рдХреА рд╡реГрджреНрдзрд┐ рджрд░реНрдЬ рдХреА рдЧрдИ рдереАред
рдЖрда рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рд╕реЗрдХреНрдЯрд░ рдХреЗ рдЧреНрд░реЛрде рд░реЗрдЯ рд╕реЗ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреА рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдХреА рд╣рд╛рд▓рдд рдХрд╛ рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬрд╛ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИред рдЬреВрди рдорд╣реАрдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрд░ рд╕реЗрдХреНрдЯрд░ рдХреА рдЧреНрд░реЛрде рд░реЗрдЯ рдореЗрдВ рдЖрдИ рдЬрдмрд░рджрд╕реНрдд рдЧрд┐рд░рд╛рд╡рдЯ рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдХреА рдЪреБрдиреМрддреАрдкреВрд░реНрдг рддрд╕реНрд╡реАрд░ рдкреЗрд╢ рдХрд░рддреА рд╣реИред
рдЧреМрд░рддрд▓рдм рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдХреА рдЖрдЦрд┐рд░реА рддрд┐рдорд╛рд╣реА рдореЗрдВ рдЬреАрдбреАрдкреА рдХреА рдЧреНрд░реЛрде рд░реЗрдЯ рдХрдо рд╣реЛрдХрд░ 6.1 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рд╣реЛ рдЧрдИред рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рд╡рд░реНрд╖ 2016-17 рдХреА рдЖрдЦрд┐рд░реА рддрд┐рдорд╛рд╣реА рдореЗрдВ рдЧреНрд░реЛрде рд░реЗрдЯ рдХреЗ рдХрдо рд╣реЛрдХрд░ 6.1 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдкреВрд░реЗ рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЬреАрдбреАрдкреА рдХреА рджрд░ рдХрдо рд╣реЛрдХрд░ 7.1 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рд╣реЛ рдЧрдИред
рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдЬреВрди рдореЗрдВ рдЗрди рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░реЛрдВ рдиреЗ 7 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рдХреА рд╡реГрджреНрдзрд┐ рджрд░ рд╣рд╛рд╕рд┐рд▓ рдХреА рдереАред рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдЬреВрди рдорд╣реАрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рддреБрд▓рдирд╛ рдХреА рдЬрд╛рдП рддреЛ рдЗрд╕ рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рдЙрджреНрдпреЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЙрддреНрдкрд╛рджрди рдореЗрдВ рдорд╛рдореВрд▓реА рдЗрдЬрд╛рдлрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИред рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рдФрджреНрдпреЛрдЧрд┐рдХ рдЙрддреНрдкрд╛рджрди рд╕реВрдЪрдХрд╛рдВрдХ (IIP) рдореЗрдВ рдЗрди рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рдЙрджреНрдпреЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕реЗрджрд╛рд░реА рдХрд░реАрдм 40 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рд╣реИред
рдЩрдЧрдиреЗ рдкрд░ рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рдХрд╛ рд╡рд╣ рдмрд┐рд▓ рдкреЗрд╢ рд╣реИрдГ
тЖз
тЖз
рдХреНрдпреЛрдВ рддрдорд╛рдо рдЖрджрд░рдгреАрдп рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЦрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рд╣рд┐рдЪрдХрд┐рдЪрд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЦрдВрдбрди рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рд╡рд╛рдп рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рд░рдЦ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрд╛рддреЗ? рдЬрдмрдХрд┐ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдФрд░ рдмрджрд▓рд╛рд╡ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдпреБрджреНрдз рдШреЛрд╖рдгрд╛ рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рд╣реИрдВ,рд╣рдХреАрдХрдд рдореЗрдВ рд╡реЗ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдХреЗ рднрдЧреЛрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реИрдВред
рдХреНрдпреЛрдВ рддрдорд╛рдо рдЖрджрд░рдгреАрдп рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЦрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рд╣рд┐рдЪрдХрд┐рдЪрд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЦрдВрдбрди рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рд╡рд╛рдп рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рд░рдЦ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрд╛рддреЗ?
рдЬрдмрдХрд┐ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдФрд░ рдмрджрд▓рд╛рд╡ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдпреБрджреНрдз рдШреЛрд╖рдгрд╛ рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рд╣реИрдВ,рд╣рдХреАрдХрдд рдореЗрдВ рд╡реЗ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдХреЗ рднрдЧреЛрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реИрдВред
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рдореИрдВ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдЬреА рдХрд╛ рдмрд╣реБрдд рд╕рдореНрдорд╛рди рдХрд░рддрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реВрдВредрдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдЫрд╛рддреНрд░ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХрд╛ рдЕрдирд┐рд╡рд╛рд░реНрдп рдкрд╛рда рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИредрдореЛрджреА рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рд╕реНрдЯреИрдВрдб рд╣рдореЗрд╢рд╛ рдЕрдЬрдм рдЧрдЬрдм рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИредрдЬрдм рдмрдирд╛рд░рд╕ рдореЗрдВ рдореЛрджреА рдЙрдореНрдореАрджрд╡рд╛рд░ рдереЗ,рддрдм рднреА рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдХреЗ рд╡рдХреНрддрд╡реНрдп рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдЧрд▓рддрдлрд╣рдореА рдлреИрд▓реА рдереАредрдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рд▓рд┐рдЦрддреЗ рдЪрд╛рд╣реЗ рдЬреЛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реЛрдВ,рдХрд┐рд╕реА рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдХреЗ рдкрд░рд┐рдкреНрд░реЗрдХреНрд╖реНрдп рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рд░рдЦрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рд╡реЗ рд╣рдореЗрд╢рд╛ рдкреАрдЫреЗ рд╣рдЯрддреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдпрд╣ рд╣рдо рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЧрд╣рд░реЗ рд╕рджрдореЗ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╣реИредрдмрдирд╛рд░рд╕ рдХреЗ рд╣реА рд╕рд╢рдХреНрдд рдХрд╡рд┐ рдзреВрдорд┐рд▓ рдХреА рдЖрдкрд╛рддрдХрд╛рд▓реАрди рднреВрдорд┐рдХрд╛ рдпрд╛рдж рдЖрддреА рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рдЙрдирдХреА рдХрд╡рд┐рддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЬрд╛рддреА рд╣реИред
рднрд▓реЗ рд╣реА рдкрддреНрд░ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдиреЗ рд╢рд░рд╛рд░рдд рд╕реЗ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реЛ,рдореБрджреНрджрд╛ рд╕рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╣рдореЗрдВ рдЙрдореНрдореАрдж рдереА рдХрд┐ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдЗрд╕ рдкрд░ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдЬрд░реБрд░ рд░рдЦреЗрдВрдЧреЗредрдРрд╕рд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рдо рдЬрд┐рд╕ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдХреЛ рдкрд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИ,рд╡рд╣ рдХрд╛рд╢реА рдХреЗ рдЕрд╕реНрд╕реАрдШрд╛рдЯ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд╣реАрдВ рддрд┐рддрд┐рд░ рдмрд┐рддрд░ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИред
рд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рдХреЗ рдЕрдиреЗрдХ рдХреНрд░рд╛рддрд┐рдХрд╛рд░рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛┬ард╛рдЪрд░рдгрдХреБрд▓ рдорд┐рд▓рд╛рдХрд░ рдпрд╣реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐рдХрд░реНрдорд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рд╛рдЦ рдХрд╣реАрдВ рдмрдЪреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рд╕рд╛рдм рд╕реЗ рдЪрд▓рдиреЗ рдХреА рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рдд рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рдордЬрдмреВрд░реА рд╣реЛ рд╕рдХрддреА рд╣реИ,рдпрд╣ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рдкрд░рд┐рджреГрд╢реНрдп,рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рдордп рдХреА рдЪреБрдиреМрддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрдн рдореЗрдВ рдмреЗрд╣рдж рдЬрдЯрд┐рд▓ рдФрд░ рдЧрдВрднреАрд░ рдкреНрд░рд╢реНрди рд╣реИрдВредрдЕрдм рд▓рдЧрддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдмрджрд▓рд╛рд╡ рдореЗрдВ рд╢рд╛рдпрдж рд╡рд┐рджреНрд╡рддрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрдХрд░реНрдорд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдХреБрд▓реАрди рддрдмрдХреЗ рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рднреВрдорд┐рдХрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд░рд╣ рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИред
рдпрд╣ рд╣рдо рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдорд╛рдореВрд▓реА рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛рдХрд░ рдЕрдЫреВрдд рдирд╛рдХрд╛рдо рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдмрд╣реБрдд рдмрдбрд╝реА рдЪреБрдиреМрддреА рд╣реИред
рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдХрд╣рд╛рдирд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдлрд░реНрдЬреА рдХрд╛рдорд░реЗрдбреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЦреВрдм рдЦрд┐рд▓реНрд▓реА рдЙрдбрд╝рд╛рдпреА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЖрдЬ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╣реА рд░рдЪреЗ рдЪрд░рд┐рддреНрд░ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдкрд░ рд╣рд╛рд╡реА рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рджреЗрд╢ рдФрд░ рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдорд░рдг рдкрд░рд┐рджреГрд╢реНрдп рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреА рдирдкреБрдВрд╕рдХрддрд╛ рдХреА рдЙрддреНрддрд░ рдЖрдзреБрдирд┐рдХ рдХрдерд╛ рдкреНрд░рд╕реНрддреБрдд рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рд╣рдо рдЖрдЬ рднреА рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдХрд╛ рдмрд╣реБрдд рд╕рдореНрдорд╛рди рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдЙрдирдХрд╛ рд╣рдордиреЗ рд▓рд┐рдЯрд░реЗрдЯрдбрд╛рдЯ рдХрд╛рдо рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдПрдХ рд▓рдВрдмрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдХреНрд╖рд╛рддреНрдХрд╛рд░ рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рдерд╛,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдореЗрдВ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдХрд╣реЗ рдХреЛ рдЖрдЬ рдХреЗ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдЖрдЪрд░рдгрд╕реЗ рдорд┐рд▓рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реВрдВредрдпрд╣ рдореЗрд░реА рдирд┐рдЬреА рд╡рд┐рдбрдВрдмрдирд╛ рд╣реИред
рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрднрдГ
Gopal Rathi┬ардкрддреНрд░ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдиреЗ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рдлрд┐рд░ рднреА рдмрд╣реБрдд рдорд╣рддреНрд╡рдкреВрд░реНрдг рдореБрджреНрджреЗ рдХреА рдУрд░ рдзреНрдпрд╛рди рдЖрдХрд░реНрд╖рд┐рдд рдХрд░рддрд╛ рд╣реИ l рджреЛрд╕реНрддреЛ рдЕрдм рдХрд╡рд┐ ,рд▓реЗрдЦрдХреЛрдВ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдпрдХрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдбрд┐рд╕реНрдЯрд░реНрдм рдХрд░рдирд╛ рдареАрдХ рдирд╣реА рд╣реИ рдХреЛрдИ рдореЛрджреА рд╕реЗ рдкрдВрдЧрд╛ рдореЛрд▓ рдирд╣реА рд▓реЗрдирд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣рддрд╛ рд╕рдм рд╕рдпрд╛рдиреЗ рдЬрд╛рдирддреЗ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдпреЗ рдЗрддрдиреА рдЬрд▓реНрджреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рдЬрд╛рдПрдЧрд╛ рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рдирд╛рд╣рдХ рдХреНрд░рд╛рдВрддрд┐рдХрд╛рд░рд┐рддрд╛ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рдорддрд▓рдм рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ l рд╕рднреА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдпрд┐рдХ рдмрд┐рд░рд╛рджрд░реА рдХреЛ рдкреНрд░рдгрд╛рдо l
рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдиреЗ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рднреА рддрд░рд╣ рдХрд╛ рдкрддреНрд░ рд▓рд┐рдЦрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЗрдирдХрд╛рд░
рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рдореБрдЦ рдорд╛рдирд╡рд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рд╕рдВрдЧрдарди рдкреАрдпреВрд╕реАрдПрд▓ рдХреЗ рдкрджрд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░реА рд░рд╣реЗ рдЪрд┐рддрд░рдВрдЬрди рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдХреЗ рдлреЗрд╕рдмреБрдХ рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдкрд░ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдкрддреНрд░ рд╢реЗрдпрд░редрдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рдорд╣рддреНрд╡рдкреВрд░реНрдг рдорд╛рдирддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рд╣рдо рддрдорд╛рдо рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рд╢реЗрдпрд░ рдмреА рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЗрд╕рдХрд╛ рднрд╛рд░реА рдЕрдлрд╕реЛрд╕ рд╣реИредрд╕реЛрд╢рд▓ рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдкрд░┬ардХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдиреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдПрдХ рд╡рд╛рдЯреНрд╕рдЕрдк рдореИрд╕реЗрдЬ рдХреЛ рдореЗрд░реЗ рдирд╛рдо рдкрд░ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рд╕рд░реНрдХреБрд▓реЗрдЯ, рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдиреЗ рдХреА рд╣реИ рдмрджрдорд╛рд╢реА, рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рдХрднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рдХреЗ рдирд╛рдо рдХреЛрдИ рдкрддреНрд░ред
рдХреМрди рд╕рд╛┬ардкрддреНрд░ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдХреЗ рдирд╛рдо рдкрд░ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рд╡рд╛рдпрд░рд▓, рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХреЛ рд▓рд┐рдЦрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдиреЗ рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдЗрдирдХрд╛рд░
рдЖрджрд░рдгреАрдп рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рди рдордВрддреНрд░реА рдЬреА,
рдорд╛рдлрд╝ рдХреАрдЬрд┐рдПрдЧрд╛. рдкрд╛рдХрд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рди рдХреА рддрд╛рд░реАрдлрд╝ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реВрдВ.
рдмреБрд░рд╛ рд▓рдЧреЗ рддреЛ рдФрд░ рдорд╛рдлрд╝ рдХрд░ рджреАрдЬрд┐рдПрдЧрд╛ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЖрдЬ рдкрд╛рдХрд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рди рдХреА рддрд╛рд░реАрдлрд╝ рдХрд╛ рджрд┐рди рд╣реИ.
рдкрд╛рдХрд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рди рдиреЗ рд╕рд╛рдмрд┐рдд рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рдХрд╛рдиреВрди рдХрд╛ рд╢рд╛рд╕рди рд╣реИ. рдХреЛрдИ рдХрд┐рддрдирд╛ рднрдИ рдХрд░рдкреНрд╢рди рдХрд╣реЗ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рдХрд░рдкреНрд╢рди рдХреЗ рдореБрджреНрджреЗ рдкрд░ рдорд╛рдлрд╝реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИрдВ.
рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рдШреЛрдЯрд╛рд▓рд╛ рдХрд░рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рдмрдЪрддрд╛ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдпрд╣рд╛рдВ рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рдХрд╛ рдХреГрдкрд╛рдкрд╛рддреНрд░ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рднрд░ рд╕реЗ рдХрдИ рдХреА рдиреИрдпрд╛ рдкрд╛рд░ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рддреА рд╣реИ. рдЬрд┐рд╕ рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рд▓реАрдХ рдХреЗрд╕ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╡рд╛рдЬ рд╢рд░реАрдл рдХреА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдЧрдИ рд╣реИ рдЙрд╕реА рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рд▓реАрдХ рдореЗрдВ рдореЛрджреА рдЬреА рдХреЗ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ 500 рдирд╛рдо рд╣реИрдВ.┬а рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрди рдПрдХреНрд╕рдкреНрд░реЗрд╕ рдмрд╛рдХрд╝рд╛рдпрджрд╛ рд▓рд┐рд╕реНрдЯ рднреА рдЫрд╛рдк рдЪреБрдХрд╛ рд╣реИ.┬а┬а рдирд╛рдо рдЬрд╛рдирдирд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рддреЛ рдлрд┐рд░ рдмрддрд╛ рджреЗрддрд╛ рд╣реВрдВ. рд▓рд┐рд╕реНрдЯ рдореЗрдВ рдореЛрджреА рдЬреА рдХреЗ рд╕рдЧреЗ рдЧреМрддрдо рдЕрдбрд╛рдиреА рдХреЗ рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рднрд╛рдИ рд╡рд┐рдиреЛрдж рдЕрдбрд╛рдиреА рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдо рд╣реИ.
рдореЛрджреА рдХреЗ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдирдЬрд╝рджреАрдХреА рд╕рд┐рддрд╛рд░реЗ рдЕрдорд┐рддрд╛рдн рдмрдЪреНрдЪрди рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдо рд╣реИ. рдЙрдирдХреА рдмрд╣реВ рдРрд╢реНрд╡рд░реНрдпрд╛ рд░рд╛рдп рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдо рд╣реИ. рджреЗрд╢рднрдХреНрдд рдПрдХреНрдЯрд░ рдЕрдЬрдп рджреЗрд╡рдЧрди рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдо рд╣реИ.
рдореЛрджреА рдЬреА рдЖрдкрдХреЗ рд╕рдЧреЗ рдЪреАрдл рдорд┐рдирд┐рд╕реНрдЯрд░ рд░рдорди рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдХреЗ рдмреЗрдЯреЗ рдЕрднрд┐рд╖реЗрдХ рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдо рднреА рдЙрд╕реА рдХреЗрд╕ рдореЗрдВ рд╣реИ рдЬрд┐рд╕рдореЗрдВ рдкрд╛рдХрд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдкреАрдПрдо рдирд╡рд╛рдЬрд╝ рд╢рд░реАрдл рдХреЛ рджреЛрд╖реА рдорд╛рдирд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╕рдЬрд╝рд╛ рднреА рд╣реЛрдЧреА. рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рд╢рд┐рд╢рд┐рд░ рдмрдЬреЛрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдо рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреБрд░рд╛рдЧ рдХреЗрдЬрд░реАрд╡рд╛рд▓ рдХрд╛ рднреА рдирд╛рдо рд╣реИ.
рд░рдорди рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдХреЗ рдмреЗрдЯреЗ рдХреЗ рдкрд╛рд╕ рдпреЗ рджреМрд▓рдд рдХрд╣рд╛рдВ рд╕реЗ рдЖрдИ рд╣реЛрдЧреА? рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЕрд▓рдЧ рд╕реЗ рдЬрд╛рдирдХрд╛рд░реА рджреЗрдиреЗ рдХреА рдЬрд╝рд░реВрд░рдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИрдВ. рдореЛрджреА рдЬреА рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рд╕рдордЭрджрд╛рд░ рдкреАрдПрдо рд╣реИрдВ. рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬрд╝рд╛ рдЖрд╕рд╛рдиреА рд╕реЗ рд▓рдЧрд╛ рд╕рдХрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ. рдЪрд▓реЛ рдпреЗ рд╕рдм рддреЛ рдореЛрджреА рдЬреА рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреА рдкрд╛рд░реНрдЯреА рдХреЗ рд╕рдЧреЗ рд╣реИрдВ. рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЗрдХрдмрд╛рд▓ рдорд┐рд░реНрдЪреА рдХрд╛ рдЖрдкрдХреА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреБрдЫ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВ рдирд╣реА рдмрд┐рдЧрд╛рдбрд╝ рд╕рдХреА? рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдмреБрд▓реНрд╕ рдХреЗ рдорд╛рд▓рд┐рдХ рднреА рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдиреЛрдЯреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдЦреЗрд▓ рдЦреЗрд▓рдХрд░ рдЗрд╕ рдордЬреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╣реИрдВ.
рдЖрдк рдИрдорд╛рдирджрд╛рд░реА рдХреЗ рдирд╛рдо рдкрд░ рдмрд┐рд╣рд╛рд░ рдХреА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдкрд▓рдЯ рджреЗрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ,┬а рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЗрд╕ рдорд╛рдорд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХреБрдЫ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд░ рдкрд╛рддреЗ. рдЬрд╝рд░рд╛ рдкрд╛рдХрд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рди рд╕реЗ рд╣реА рд╕реАрдЦрд┐рдП, рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдХреА рд╕реБрдкреНрд░реАрдо рдХреЛрд░реНрдЯ рдиреЗ рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рдирд╡рд╛рдЬрд╝ рд╢рд░реАрдл рдХреЛ рд╕рд▓рд╛рдЦреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рд╕реНрддрд╛ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛!
рдЖрдЗрд╕рд▓реИрдВрдб рд╕реЗ рд╕реАрдЦрд┐рдП, рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдХреЗ рдкреАрдПрдо рдиреЗ рдЗрд╕реНрддреАрдлрд╛ рджреЗ рджрд┐рдпрд╛. рдЖрдк рддреЛ рдХрд╣рддреЗ рдереЗ рдХрд┐ рдореИрдВ рди рдЦрд╛рдКрдВрдЧрд╛ рди рдЦрд╛рдиреЗ рджреВрдВрдЧрд╛, рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдпреЗ рдиреЛрдЯреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдЬреАрд░реНрдг рд▓рд┐рдП рдШреВрдо рд░рд╣реЗ рдирд╛рдо рдХреНрдпрд╛ рдЖрдкрдиреЗ рдЕрдЦрдмрд╛рд░ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрдврд╝реЗ?
рдХреНрдпрд╛ рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рд▓реАрдХреНрд╕ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЖрдкрдХреЛ рдХреБрдЫ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрддрд╛? рдЦреИрд░! рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрддрд╛ рддреЛ рдмрддрд╛ рджреЗрддрд╛ рд╣реВрдВ. рд╡реИрд╕реЗ рднреА рдпреЗ рд╡реЛ рджреЗрд╢ рд╣реИ рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдХрд╛ рдЯреВрд░ рдЕрднреА рддрдХ рдЖрдкрдиреЗ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ. рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рдордзреНрдп рдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдПрдХ рдЫреЛрдЯрд╛ рд╕рд╛ рджреЗрд╢ рд╣реИ.
рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд┐рджреЗрд╢реА рдирд┐рд╡реЗрд╢ рдкрд░ рдХреЛрдИ рдЯреИрдХреНрд╕ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд▓рдЧрддрд╛ рд╣реИ, рдЗрд╕реА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рдЧрднрдЧ "рд╕рд╛рдврд╝реЗ рддреАрди рд▓рд╛рдЦ" рд╕реАрдХреНрд░реЗрдЯ рдХрдВрдкрдирд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рд╣реИ. рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рдореЗрдВ 'рд╕реЗрдХ рдлрд╛реЕрдиреНрд╕реЗрдХрд╛' рдирд╛рдордХ рдлрд░реНрдо, рд╡рд┐рджреЗрд╢рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд╢реЗрд▓ рдХрдВрдкрдиреА (рдлреЗрдХ рдХрдВрдкрдиреА) рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдорджрдж рдХрд░рддреА рд╣реИ рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХреЗ рдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рдХреЛрдИ рднреА рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐, рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдирд╛рдо рдкрддрд╛ рдмрддрд╛рдП рдмрдЧреИрд░ рдпрд╣рд╛рдВ рд╕рдВрдкрддреНрддрд┐ рдЦрд░реАрдж рд╕рдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИ.
рдЗрд╕реА рдХрдВрдкрдиреА рдХреЗ рд▓реАрдХ рд╣реБрдР рджрд╕реНрддрд╛рд╡реЗрдЬреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рджреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛ рднрд░ рдХреЗ рдмрдбреЗ рдиреЗрддрд╛рдУрдВ рдкреНрд░рдореБрдЦ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдбрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдп рдмрдбреА рд╣рд╕реНрддреНрддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдирд╛рдо рд╕рд╛рдордиреЗ рдЖрдпреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдЬрд┐рдиреНрд╣реЛрдиреЗрдВ рдЕрд░рдмреЛрдВ рдбреЙрд▓рд░ рдХреА рд░рд╛рд╢рд┐ рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдЫреБрдкрд╛рдИ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИ.рдЗрдирдореЗрдВ рдЖрдЗрд╕рд▓реИрдВрдб рдФрд░ рдкрд╛рдХрд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рдирд╡рд╛рдЬ рд╢рд░реАрдл, рдпреВрдХреНрд░реЗрди рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рдкрддрд┐, рд╕рдКрджреА рдЕрд░рдм рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрд╛ рдФрд░ рдбреЗрд╡рд┐рдб рдХреИрдорд░рди рдХреЗ рдкрд┐рддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдо рдкреНрд░рдореБрдЦ рд╣реИ.
рдЗрдирдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рд▓рд┐рд╕реНрдЯ рдореЗрдВ рд╡реНрд▓рд╛рджрд┐рдореАрд░ рдкреБрддрд┐рди рдХреЗ рдХрд░реАрдмрд┐рдпреЛрдВ, рдЕрднрд┐рдиреЗрддрд╛ рдЬреИрдХреА рдЪреИрди рдФрд░ рдлреБрдЯрдмреЙрд▓рд░ рд▓рд┐рдпреЛрдиреЗрд▓ рдореЗрд╕реА рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдо рднреА рд╣реИ. рджреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рднрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдЗрди рджрд╕реНрддрд╛рд╡реЗрдЬреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдкрд░ рдПрдХреНрд╢рди рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ.
рдореЛрджреА рдЬреА рдЖрдк рдХреНрдпрд╛ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ? рдХреБрдЫ рдХрд░ рдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдП. рдЖрдкрд╕реЗ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЛ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдЙрдореНрдореАрджреЗрдВ рд╣реИрдВред
тЖз
рдЕрдЧрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рдХрд▓рд╛ рддрдорд╛рдо рдкреНрд░рд╢реНрдиреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдКрдкрд░ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдХреГрдкрдпрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдкрд░ рдордВрддрд╡реНрдп рдордд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреАрдЬрд┐рдпреЗредрд╡реЗ рднреА рддреЛ рдкрд░рдо рдЖрджрд░рдгреАрдп рд╣реИрдВредрд╕рдВрд╡реИрдзрд╛рдирд┐рдХ рдкрджреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рд╣реИрдВред рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХреЗ рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░ рдкрд░ рдирд┐рд╖реЗрдзрд╛рдЬреНрдЮрд╛ рд╕рдкрдиреЛрдВ,рдЖрдХрд╛рдВрдХреНрд╖рд╛рдУрдВ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдХрддреНрд▓реЗрдЖрдо рд╣реИ рджрд╕рд░реЗ рддрдорд╛рдо рдпреБрджреНрдз рдЕрдкрд░рд╛рдзреЛрдВ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ред
рдЕрдЧрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рдХрд▓рд╛ рддрдорд╛рдо рдкреНрд░рд╢реНрдиреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдКрдкрд░ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдХреГрдкрдпрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдкрд░ рдордВрддрд╡реНрдп рдордд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреАрдЬрд┐рдпреЗредрд╡реЗ рднреА рддреЛ рдкрд░рдо рдЖрджрд░рдгреАрдп рд╣реИрдВредрд╕рдВрд╡реИрдзрд╛рдирд┐рдХ рдкрджреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рд╣реИрдВред
рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХреЗ рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░ рдкрд░ рдирд┐рд╖реЗрдзрд╛рдЬреНрдЮрд╛ рд╕рдкрдиреЛрдВ,рдЖрдХрд╛рдВрдХреНрд╖рд╛рдУрдВ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдХрддреНрд▓реЗрдЖрдо рд╣реИ рджрд╕рд░реЗ рддрдорд╛рдо рдпреБрджреНрдз рдЕрдкрд░рд╛рдзреЛрдВ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ред
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдЬреА рдХреЗ рдкрдирд╛рдорд╛ рдкреНрд░рдХрд░рдг рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рд╣рд╕реНрддрдХреНрд╖реЗрдк рдкрд░ ┬ардЬрд┐рд╕ рддрд░рд╣ рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдЬрд┐рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд┐рдВрдЪрд┐рдВрдЧ рдХрд╛ рдЖрд░реЛрдк рд▓рдЧрд╛рдХрд░ рдордВрддрд╡реНрдп рдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд╢рд┐рдд рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИ,рдЙрд╕рд╕реЗ рдореИрдВ рд╣рддрдкреНрд░рдн рд╣реВрдВред
рд╣рдордиреЗ рдХрднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдпрд╣ рдкрддреНрд░ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдиреЗ рд╣реА рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рд╣реИ рдпрд╛ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдЬреЛ рдкрддреНрд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛,рдЙрд╕реЗ рд╡реЗ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдорд╛рди рд▓реЗрдВред
рд╣рдо рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреА рднреВрдорд┐рдХрд╛ рдкрд░ рд▓рдЧрд╛рддрд╛рд░ рд╣рд╕реНрддрдХреНрд╖реЗрдк рдкрд░ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЗрд╕реА рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдпрд╣ рдордВрддрд╡реНрдп рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХрд╛ рдорддрд▓рдм рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рдореНрдорд╛рди рдХрд░рдирд╛ рдХрддрдИ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рди рд╣рдордиреЗ рдмрд╣рд╕ рдЙрд╕ рдкрддреНрд░ рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирдордВрддреНрд░реА рдХреЛ рдкрддреНрд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд▓рд┐рдЦрдиреЗ рдХреА рдЬрд╛рдирдХрд╛рд░реА рджреЗрддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдиреЗ рдорд╛рдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕реЛрд╢рд▓ рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдкрд░ рдпрд╣ рдкрддреНрд░ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рд╣реБрдЖ рддреЛ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рд╢реЗрдпрд░ рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛,рдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рд╕рдордЭ рдмреИрдареЗред
рдЧрдбрд╝рдмрдбрд╝реА рдпрд╣реА рд╣реБрдИ,рдЕрдЧрд░ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдо рдЗрд╕ рдлрд░реНрдЬреА рдкрддреНрд░ рд╕реЗ рдЬреБреБрдбрд╝рд╛ рди рд╣реЛрддрд╛ рддреЛ рдЗрд╕реЗ рдЗрддрдирд╛ рдорд╣рддреНрд╡ рдХрддрдИ рдирд╣реАрдВ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ред
рдЬрд┐рддрдиреЗ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдкрддреНрд░ ┬ардХреЛ рд╡рд╛рдЗрд░рд▓ рдмрдирд╛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЙрдирдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдпрдХрд╛рд░,рдкрддреНрд░рдХрд╛рд░,рд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рд╕реЗрд╡реА рдФрд░ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдз рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдХреЛ рд╕рдВрдмреЛрдзрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рддрдорд╛рдо рд▓реЛрдЧ рд╣реИрдВредрдЗрди рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдкрддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдо рджреЗрдЦрдХрд░ рд╣реА рд╢реЗрдпрд░ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИредрд╡реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рдердЬреА рдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рдореНрдорд╛рди рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗредрдмрд▓реНрдХрд┐ рд╡реЗ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдХрд╛ рд╕рдореНрдорд╛рди рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдкрддреНрд░ рдХреЛ рдЕрд╕рд▓реА рд╕рдордЭрдХрд░ рд╢реЗрдпрд░ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИредрдЙрди рд╕рднреАрд┐ рдХреЛ рдорд╛рдм рд▓рд┐рдВрдЪрд┐рдВрдЧ рдХрд╛ рдЕрднрд┐рдпреБрдХреНрдд рдмрдирд╛ рджреЗрдирд╛ рдЕрдЬрдм рдЧрдЬрдм рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдЬрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИред
рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЕрдЧрд░ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдЗрд╕ рдкрддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╖рдп рдкрд░ рдордВрддрд╡реНрдп рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣рддреЗ рддреЛ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдЙрд╕ рд╢реЗрдпрд░ рд╣реА рдХреНрдпреЛрдВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛редрдЗрд╕реА рдмрд┐рдВрджреВ рдкрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдХреЗ рдкрд╛рдардХреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдордиреЗ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рд░рдЦрдирд╛ рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рдерд╛,рдРрд╕рд╛ рдореЗрд░рд╛ рдорд╛рдирдирд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЫрд╛рддреНрд░ рдЬреАрд╡рди рд╕реЗ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдХрд╛ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рдкрдврд╝рддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рд╣рдо рд╕рд┐рд░реНрдл рдкрддреНрд░ рди рд▓рд┐рдЦрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрдпрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдмрджрд▓реЗ рдЗрд╕ рдореБрджреНрджреЗ рдкрд░ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдЬрд╛рдирдирд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рд╣рдо рдЬрд┐рди рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдпрд╣ рдкрддреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рдЭрд╛ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рд╡реЗ рдЗрд╕ рдореБрджреНрджреЗ рдкрд░ рд╕рд╣рдордд рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрд╡реЗ рд╕рд╣рдордд рд╣реИрдВ рдпрд╛ рдЕрд╕рд╣рдордд рд╣реИрдВ,рдпрд╣ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рдХрд╛ рдЬрд╡рд╛рдм рдЬрд╛рдирдирд╛ рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реИред
рд╣рдордиреЗ рдЗрд╕реАрдХреЛ рдзреНрдпрд╛рди рдореЗрдВ рд░рдЦрддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдЗрд╕ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рдХрд▓рд╛ рдХреА рднреВрдорд┐рдХрд╛ рдкрд░ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдЙрдард╛рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рддрдорд╛рдо рдЖрджрд░рдгреАрдп рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╕реЗ рдЯрдХрд░рд╛рдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рд╣рд┐рдЪрдХрд┐рдЪрд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдпрд╣ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рд╣реИредрд╕рдВрд╡рд╛рдж рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рдпрд╛рд╕ рд╣реИред
рдХрд┐рд╕реА рд▓реЗрдЦрдХ,рдХрд╡рд┐,рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐рдХрд░реНрдореА рдХреА рдЖрд▓реЛрдЪрдирд╛ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рдЬреЛ рд▓реЛрдЧ рд▓рд┐рдВрдЪрд┐рдЧ рдмрддрд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рд╡реЗ рд░реЛрдЬ рд░реЛрдЬ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд▓рд┐рдВрдЪрд┐рдЧ рдФрд░ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреА рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрджреА рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдкрд░ рдЯрд┐рдкреНрдкрдгреА рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВ рдХрд░рддрд░рд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдХреЗ рд╕рдореВрдЪреЗ рд░рдЪрдирд╛рд╕рдордЧреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреА рдмрд╛рддреЗрдВ рдХрд╣реА рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ,рдпрд╣ рдкрд╛рдардХ рдХреА рд╣реИрд╕рд┐рдпрдд рд╕реЗ рд╣рдорд╛рд░рд╛ рдорд╛рдирдирд╛ рд╣реИред
рдХрд╛рд╢реА рдХреЗ рдЕрд╕реНрд╕реА рдкрд░ рд▓рд┐рдЦреА рдЙрдирдХреА рдХреГрддрд┐ рддреЛ рдЕрджреНрднреБрдд рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдореЗрдВ рд╢рдмреНрдж рджрд░ рд╢рдмреНрдж рдЖрдо рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд░реЛрдЬрдорд░реНрд░реЗ рдХреА рдЬрд┐рдВрджрдЧреА рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рдЬрдирдкрджреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреА рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд▓реЛрдХрд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рдХрд╛рд╢реА рдХреА рдЬрдореАрди,рдлрд┐рдЬрд╛рдВ рдХрд╛ рдЕрднреВрддрдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рджрд╕реНрддрд╛рд╡реЗрдЬ рд╣реИред
рдЕрдЧрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рд▓реЗрдЦрдХ рдЗрддрдирд╛ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдЬрдирдкрдХреНрд╖рдзрд░ рдФрд░ рдХреНрд░рд╛рдВрддрд┐рдХрд╛рд░реА рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдореБрджреНрджреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рдЙрд╕рдХреА рдЦрд╛рдореЛрд╢реА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рдХрд▓рд╛ рдХрд╛ рдЧрдВрднреАрд░ рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рд╣реИред рд╣рдо рдЙрд╕ рдкрддреНрд░ рдХреЛ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░рд┐рдд рдХреЛрдИ рдмрд╣рд╕ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗред
рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдореЗрд░реЗ рдЖрджрд░рдгреАрдп рд╣реИрдВредрдЬрдм рд╣рдо рд╡рд╛рд░рд╛рдгрд╕реА рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╛рдЬреАрд╡рдХреБрдорд╛рд░ рдХреА рдлрд┐рд▓реНрдо рд╡рд╕реАрдпрдд рдХреА рд╢реВрдЯрд┐рдВрдЧ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗ рддреЛ рд╣рдорд╛рд░рд╛ рдХрд╛рдо рджреЗрдЦрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдФрд░ рдХрд╡рд┐ рдЬреНрдЮрд╛рдиреЗрдВрджреНрд░ рдкрддрд┐ рд╢реВрдЯрд┐рдВрдЧ рд╕реНрдерд▓ рдкрд░ рдЖрдпреЗ рдереЗ,рдЬрдмрдХрд┐ рд╣рдореЗрдВ рд╡реЗ рдЦрд╛рд╕ рдЬрд╛рдирддреЗ рднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рдереЗредрдЗрд╕реА рддрд░рд╣ рдХрд╛рд╢реА рдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕реНрд╕реА рдХрд╛ рдЬрдм рдордВрдЪрди рд╣реБрдЖ рддреЛ рд░рдВрдЧрдХрд░реНрдореА рдЙрд╖рд╛ рдЧрд╛рдВрдЧреБрд▓реА рдХреЗ рд░рд┐рд╣рд░реНрд╕рд▓ рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рд╣рдо рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЙрдкрд╕реНрдерд┐рдд рдереЗред рд╣рдордиреЗ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдмреЗрд╣рдж рд▓рдВрдмрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдХреНрд╖рд╛рддреНрдХрд╛рд░ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ред
рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рдЬреА рдХреЛ рдмрджрдирд╛рдо рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреА рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рдХреЛрдИ рдордВрд╢рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИред
рдЕрдЧрд░ рд╣рдо рдХрд┐рд╕реА рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐рдХрд░реНрдореА рдХреЗ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдВрддрд░реНрд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рдкрд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЙрд╕рдХреА рдкрд╛рдардХреАрдп рдЖрд▓реЛрдЪрдирд╛ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рддреЛ рдпрд╣ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рдХрд▓рд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХрд╛ рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдмрди рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдпрд╣ рдЕрджреНрднреБрдд рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╣рдо рдирд╛рдорджреЗрд╡ рдзрд╕рд╛рд▓ рдФрд░ рд╢реИрд▓реЗрд╢ рдордЯрд┐рдпрд╛рдиреА рдЬреА рдХреЗ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдЕрд╡рджрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рдХрд╛рд░рдгреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдПрдХ рдЭрдЯрдХреЗ рд╕рд╛ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдкрд░рд┐рджреГрд╢реНрдп рд╕реЗ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдЦрд╛рд░рд┐рдЬ рдХрд░ рджреЗрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдмрд╛рдХреА рдЦрд╛рд╕ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдкрд░ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдЙрдардиреЗ рдкрд░ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдЦрд╛рдореЛрд╢ рдмреИрда рдЬрд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдпрд╛ рддреАрдЦреА рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдмрдЪрд╛рд╡ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдХреНрд░рд┐рдп рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдпрд╛рдиреА рд╕рдмрдХреБрдЫ рдЖрд░реНрдХрд┐рдорд┐рдбреАрдЬ рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рджреНрдзрд╛рдВрдд рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рдзрд╛рд░ рднрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдкреЗрдХреНрд╖ рд╣реИред
рдкреНрд░реЗрдордЪрдВрдж,рдорд╛рдгрд┐рдХ рдмрдВрджреНрдпреЛрдкрд╛рдзреНрдпрд╛рдп,рдорд╣рд╛рд╢реНрд╡реЗрддрд╛ рджреЗрд╡реА,рдирд╡рд╛рд░реБрдг рднрдЯреНрдЯрд╛рдЪрд╛рд░реНрдп,рд╕реЛрдордирд╛рде рд╣реЛрдбрд╝,рдЪрд┐рддреНрдд рдкреНрд░рд╕рд╛рдж,рдЛрддреНрд╡рд┐рдХ рдШрдЯрдХ ┬ардЬреИрд╕реЗ рджрд░реНрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рд▓реЛрдЧ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рд╛рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐рдХ рдкрд░рд┐рджреГрд╢реНрдп рдореЗрдВ рдЙрджрд╛рд╣рд░рдг рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЬреЛ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рд░рдЪрд╛ рд╣реИ,рд╡рд╣реА рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдЬрд┐рдпрд╛ рднреА рд╣реИред
рд╢рд╣рд░ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд░реНрдлреНрдпреВ рдЬреИрд╕рд╛ рдЙрдкрдиреНрдпрд╛рд╕ рд▓рд┐рдЦрдХрд░ рд╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ,рдореЗрд░рда рдХреЗ рд╣рд╛рд╢рд┐рдордкреБрд░рд╛ рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдорд╛рдорд▓реЗ рдЧрд╛рдЬрд┐рдпрд╛рдмрд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдПрд╕рдкреА рдХреА рд╣реИрд╕рд┐рдпрдд рд╕реЗ рд╡рд┐рднреВрддрд┐ рдирд╛рд░рд╛рдпрдг рд░рд╛рдп рдиреЗ рдЬреЛ рдЕрднреВрддрдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рднреВрдорд┐рдХрд╛ рдирд┐рднрд╛рдИ рдФрд░ рдпрд╣рд╛рдВ рддрдХ рдХрд┐ рдорд╣рд╛рддреНрдорд╛ рдЧрдВрдзреА рдЕрдВрддрд░рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╡рд┐рджреНрдпрд╛рд▓рдп рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдореВрдЪреА рд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рдХреЛ рд╕рдореЗрдЯрдиреЗ рдХреА рдЬреЛ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рд╢ рдХреА,рд╡рд╣ рд╕рдмрдХреБрдЫ рдЙрдирдХреА рдПрдХ рдЯрд┐рдкреНрдкрдгреА рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдЦрд╛рд░рд┐рдЬ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ред
рдЗрд╕реА ┬арддрд░рд╣ рдЕрдкрдиреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдкрд┐рддреГрд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рдЖрдХреНрд░рд╛рдордХ рдврдВрдЧреЗ рд╕реЗ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдирдИ рдХрд╣рд╛рдиреА рдФрд░ рд╕рдорд╛рдВрддрд░ рдХрд╣рд╛рдиреА рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреЗ рдорд╕реАрд╣рд╛ рдХрд╛ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдЬрдм рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдЦрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИ,рддрдм рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рд╕рдиреНрдирд╛рдЯрд╛ рддрд╛рди рд▓реЗрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рджреЗрд╢ рднрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╣реИрд╕рд┐рдпрдд рдХрд╛ рд▓рд╛рдн рдЙрдард╛рдХрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХрд╛ рдорд╛рдлрд┐рдпрд╛рдиреБрдорд╛ рдиреЗрдЯрд╡рд░реНрдХ рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдХреА рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рдореБрджреНрджреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдкрд░ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рдЪреБрдкреНрдкреА рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдмрдирддрд╛ред
рд╣рд░ рдЦреЗрдореЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рд╛рдЬрд┐рд░реА рд▓рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓рд╛ рддрдорд╛рдо рдЕрдВрддрд░реНрд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╡рдЬреВрдж рдорд╣рд╛рди рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдпрдХрд╛рд░ рдорд╛рди рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИредрд╣рд░ рдЦреЗрдореЗ рдХреЛ рд╕рдмреНрдЬреА рдореЗрдВ рдЖрд▓реВ рдмреЗрд╣рдж рдкрд╕рдВрдж рд╣реИредрдЬрд╛рдпрдХрд╛ рдмрджрд▓ рдЧрдпрд╛ рддреЛ рдлрд┐рд░ рдореБрд╕реАрдмрдд рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕ рджреЛрд╣рд░реЗ рдорд╛рдирджрдВрдб рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░рдг рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдЧрд╛рдпрдм рд╣реЛрддрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рд╣рдо рдХрд▓ рд╕реЗ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рд░рдЦ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рд╕рдорд░реНрдерди рдпрд╛ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдлрд░реНрдЬреА рдкрддреНрд░ рд╢реЗрдпрд░ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдкрд░ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдЙрдард╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдореБрдЭрдкрд░,рд╣рд╕реНрддрдХреНрд╖реЗрдк рдкрд░ рдорд╛рдм рд▓рд┐рдВрдЪрд┐рдВрдЧ рдХрд╛ рдЖрд░реЛрдк рд▓рдЧрд╛ рд╣реИредрд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдХрд▓ рддрдХ рдЬреЛ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдзрдбрд╝рд▓реНрд▓реЗ рд╕реЗ рдпрд╣ рдкрддреНрд░ рд╢реЗрдпрд░ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗ,рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рднреА рдХреЛрдИ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрд╡реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рдЗрд╕ рдЖрд░реЛрдк рдкрд░ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдирд╣реАрд░рдЦ рдкрд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдпрд╣ рднреА рд╣реИрд░рдд рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рд╣реИред
рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдкрд░ рдирд┐рд╖реЗрдзрд╛рдЬреНрдЮрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрдШ рдкрд░рд┐рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдПрдЬрдВрдбреЗ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЬрдмрд░реНрджрд╕реНрдд рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рд╢реБрд░реБ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдпрд╣ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдмрдЪрд╛рд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдмрдВрдХрд┐рдо рдХреЗ рдорд╣рд┐рдорд╛рдордВрдбрди рд╕реЗ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рдирдХрд╛ рдЖрдирдВрдж рдорда рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХрд╛ рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рдкрд╛рда рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕реА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдореЛрд░реНрдЪреЗ рдХреЗ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдиреНрдирд╛рдЯрд╛ рд╣реИредрдореЗрд░реЗ рд╣рд┐рд╕рд╛рдм рд╕реЗ рдпрд╣ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рдХрд▓рд╛ рдХрд╛ рдЕрднреВрддрдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рд╣реИред
рд╣рдо рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗрд╡рд╛рд░ рд╕рд╛рдмрд┐рдд рдХрд░ рд╕рдХрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдХрд┐ рдХреБрд▓ рдЧреЛрд░рдЦрдзрдВрдзрд╛ рдХреНрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ,рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рддрдорд╛рдо рдкрд╡рд┐рддреНрд░ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдорд╛рдПрдВ рдкрд╡рд┐рддреНрд░ рдЧрд╛рдп рдЬреИрд╕реА рд╣реИрдВ,рдЬрд┐рдирдХреЗ рдЦрдВрдбрд┐рдд рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рдкрд░ рдЧреЛрд░рдХреНрд╖рдХ рдмрдЬрд░рдВрдЧреАрджрд▓ рдЗрд╕ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХреА рдЗрдЬрд╛рдЬрдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рджреЗрдВрдЧреЗред
рд╣рдордиреЗ рдХрд╛рд╢реАрдирд╛рде рд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдЬреА рдХреА рдирд╛рд░рд╛рдЬрдЧреА рдХрд╛ рдЬреЛрдЦрд┐рдо рдЙрдард╛рдХрд░ рдпрд╣ рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдЬрд░реБрд░ рдЙрдард╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рд╢ рдХреА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рддрдорд╛рдо рдЖрджрд░рдгреАрдп рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЦрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВ рд╣рд┐рдЪрдХрд┐рдЪрд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рд╣рдо рд╣рдореЗрд╢рд╛ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдмрд╛рдд рдбрдВрдХреЗ рдХреА рдЪреЛрдЯ рдкрд░ рдХрд╣рддреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдореМрдХреЗ рдХреЗрдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рдмрд╛рдд рдмрджрд▓реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрдпрд╣ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рдмреБрд░реА рдмрд╛рдд рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╣рдо рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдлрд╛рдпрджрд╛ рдиреБрдХрд╕рд╛рди рдирд╣реАрдВ рджреЗрдЦрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рди рдорд╣рд╛рднрд╛рд░рдд рд░рд╛рдорд╛рдпрдг рдЕрд╢реБрджреНрдз рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдбрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╣рдорд╛рд░рд╛ рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдЕрдВрдд рддрдХ рдмрдирд╛ рд░рд╣реЗрдЧрд╛ред
рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╣рдо рдЗрд╕ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓ рдХреЛ рд╡рд╛рдкрд╕ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд▓реЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдЪрд╛рд╣реЗ рддрдорд╛рдо рд▓реЛрдЧ рдирд╛рд░рд╛рдЬ рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рдпреЗ рдпрд╛ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреА рд▓рд┐рдВрдЪрд┐рдВрдЧ рдкрд░ рдЦрд╛рдореЛрд╢ рд░рд╣рдХрд░ рдореБрдЭреЗ рд▓рд┐рдВрдЪрд┐рдВрдЧ рдХрд╛ рдЕрднрд┐рдпреБрдХреНрдд рдмрдирд╛ рджреЗрдВред
рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд╛рдмрд┐рдЗрдВрдЧ рдХрд░рдХреЗ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рд╕реНрдерд╛рдкрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдирд╛ рдФрд░ рдмрд╣рд╛рд▓ рд░рдЦрдиреЗ рдХреА рд░рдШреБрдХреБрд▓ рдкрдВрд░рдкрд░рд╛ рдмреЗрд╣рдж рдордЬрдмреВрдд рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рддреЛрдбрд╝реЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рд╣рдо рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛ рд╕рдХрддреЗредрдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдореЛрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдмрдирд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╕рдХрддреЗред
рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд╛рдордпрд╛рдмреА рдХреЗ рдмрд╣реБрддреЗрд░реЗ рдХрд╛рд░рдг рд╣реЛрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдпрд╣ рдХрд╛рдордпрд╛рдмреА рдХреБрдЫ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдХреЗрдХ рд╡рд╛рдХ рдЬреИрд╕реА рд╣реЛрддреА рд╣реИред
рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЦрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдХрд┐рд╕реА рд╡рд╛рд▓реНрддреЗрдпрд░ рдЬреИрд╕рд╛ рдХрд▓реЗрдЬреА рд╣реЛрдирд╛ рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реЛрддрд╛ рд╣реИредрд╣рдо рд╣рд╡рд╛ рд╣рд╡рд╛рдИ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдХреАрдЪрдбрд╝ рдкрд╛рдиреА рдореЗрдВ рдзрдВрд╕рдХрд░ рдЖрдо рд▓реЛрдЧреЛ рдХреЗ рдирдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рд╕реЗ рджреЗрдЦрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВредрд╣рдо рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдЧрдврд╝ рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХреИрдж рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИрдВред
рдЗрд╕ рдмрджрддрдореАрдЬреА рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдорд╛рдл рдХреАрдЬрд┐рдпреЗрдЧрд╛ред
рдЕрдЧрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рдХрд▓рд╛ рддрдорд╛рдо рдкреНрд░рд╢реНрдиреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдКрдкрд░ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдХреГрдкрдпрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдкрд░ рдордВрддрд╡реНрдп рдордд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреАрдЬрд┐рдпреЗредрд╡реЗ рднреА рддреЛ рдкрд░рдо рдЖрджрд░рдгреАрдп рд╣реИрдВредрд╕рдВрд╡реИрдзрд╛рдирд┐рдХ рдкрджреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рд╣реИрдВред
рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХреЗ рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░ рдкрд░ рдирд┐рд╖реЗрдзрд╛рдЬреНрдЮрд╛ рд╕рдкрдиреЛрдВ,рдЖрдХрд╛рдВрдХреНрд╖рд╛рдУрдВ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдХрддреНрд▓реЗрдЖрдо рд╣реИ рджрд╕рд░реЗ рддрдорд╛рдо рдпреБрджреНрдз рдЕрдкрд░рд╛рдзреЛрдВ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ред
тЖз
рд╕рд░реНрд╡рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкреА рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрджреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рддрдХрдиреАрдХреА рдХреНрд░рд╛рдВрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рддрд╛рдВрдбрд╡ рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд┐рд▓реБрдкреНрдд рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛! Rabindra Impact ржУ ржЙржЪрзНржЪржХрж┐ржд рж░рж╛ржЬржирзАрждрж┐ ржУ ржкрзНрж░ржпрзБржХрзНрждрж┐рж░ рждрж╛ржирзНржбржмрзЗ рж▓рзЛржХрж╕ржВрж╕рзНржХрзГрждрж┐рж░ ржЕржмржХрзНрж╖рзЯ! рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рд╕рд░реНрд╡рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкреА рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрджреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рддрдХрдиреАрдХреА рдХреНрд░рд╛рдВрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рддрд╛рдВрдбрд╡ рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд┐рд▓реБрдкреНрдд рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛!
Rabindra Impact ржУ ржЙржЪрзНржЪржХрж┐ржд рж░рж╛ржЬржирзАрждрж┐ ржУ ржкрзНрж░ржпрзБржХрзНрждрж┐рж░ рждрж╛ржирзНржбржмрзЗ рж▓рзЛржХрж╕ржВрж╕рзНржХрзГрждрж┐рж░ ржЕржмржХрзНрж╖рзЯ!
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рдЬрд┐рд╕ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рдорд┐рдЯрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдПрдЬрдВрдбрд╛ рдореБрдХреНрддрдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░реА рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХрд╛ рдПрдЬрдВрдбрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЙрдиреНрд╣реАрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рдХрднреА рдХрд╣рд╛ рд╣реИрдГ
рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдХреЗ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдХреА рдореБрдЦреНрдп рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛ рдХреНрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ? рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдХреЛрдИ рдЕрдВрдзрддреНрд╡,рдореВрдврд╝рддреНрд╡ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдФрд░ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд┐рдЪреНрдЫреЗрдж рдШрдЯрд┐рдд рдХрд░ рджреЗрддрд╛ рд╣реИредрдорд╛рдирд╡ рд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдХрд╛ рд╕реНрд░рд╡рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рдирддрддреНрд╡ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рдПрдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИредрд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд░реНрд╡рд╡рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рди рддрддреНрд╡ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рдПрдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИредрд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдЕрд░реНрде рдпрд╣реА рд╣реИ- рдПрдХрддреНрд░рд┐рдд рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЕрднреНрдпрд╛рд╕ред
рдЖрдЬ рд╣рд┐рд░реЛрд╢рд┐рдорд╛ рджрд┐рд╡рд╕ рд╣реИредрдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХреА рд╕рд╛рдореНрд░рд╛рдЬреНрдпрд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рд╢рд┐рдХрдВрдЬреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд╕рдорд╕рд╛рддреА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рджрд╛рдмрд╣рд╛рд░ рдЬрдЦреНрдо рд╣рд┐рд░реЛрд╢рд┐рдорд╛ рдФрд░ рдирд╛рдЧрд╛рд╕рд╛рдХреА рдХрд╛ рдкрд░рдорд╛рдгреБ рд╡рд┐рдзреНрд╡рдВрд╕редрдЖрдЬ рд╣реА рдЬрд╛рдкрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рд░реЛрд╢рд┐рдорд╛ рдкрд░ рдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХреА рдкрд░рдорд╛рдгреБ рдмрдо рдЧрд┐рд░реЗ рдереЗредрдЗрд╕ рдкрд░рдорд╛рдгреБ рд╡рд┐рдзреНрд╡рдВрд╕ рдХреА рдирдИ рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдореБрдЦрд░ рдереЗ рд╡реИрдЬреНрдЮрд╛рдирд┐рдХ рдЖрдЗрдВрд╕реНрдЯреАрди,рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдФрд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рдередрдЗрдирдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рд░реВрд╕реА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдпрдХрд╛рд░ рддрд╛рд▓рд╕реНрддрд╛рдп рдФрд░ рджрд╛рд░реНрд╢рдирд┐рдХ рд░реЛрдореНрдпрд╛рдВ рд░реЛрд▓рд╛рдВ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдореВрдЪрд╛ рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рджрд░реНрд╢рди рд╣реИред
рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рдзреБ,рд╕рдВрддреЛрдВ,рдлрдХреАрд░реЛрдВ,рдмрд╛рдЙрд▓реЛрдВ,рдЧреБрд░реБрдУрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдордВрддрд╡рд╛рджрд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рджрд░реНрд╢рди рднреА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рджрд░реНрд╢рди рд╣реИредрдЬреЛ рдЖрд╕реНрдерд╛ рдХреА рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рдорд░реНрдерди рдХрд░рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдорд░реНрдерди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рд╛рде рднреЗрджрднрд╛рд╡,рдЕрд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рдХрд░рддрд╛ рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рдЕрдВрдзрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдореВрдврд╝рддрд╛ рд╣реА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдЦрдВрдбрди рдХрд╛ рдореБрдЦреНреЯ рдХрд╛рд░рдг рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдпрд╣реА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреА рдореБрдЦреНрдп рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛ рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕реА рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЧреМрд░рддрд▓рдм рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рднрд╛рд░рддрд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреА рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдз рдзрд╛рд░рд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд▓рдп рдХрд╛ рдорд╣рд╛рддреАрд░реНрде рднрд╛рд░рдд рддреАрд░реНрде рд╣реИредрд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдзрддрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХрддрд╛ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХрд╛ рднрд╛рд░рддрд╡рд░реНрд╖ рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕рдкрд░ рд╣рдо рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдХрд░ рдЪреБрдХреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдпрд╣реА рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдореМрд▓рд┐рдХ рдЕрдкрд░рд╛рдз рд╣реИ рдЬреЛ рдЧреБрд░реБ рдЧреЛрд▓рд╡рд▓рдХрд░,рд╡реАрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╡рд░рдХрд░ рдФрд░ рдЖрдирдВрджрдорда рдХреЗ рд╡рдВрджреЗрдорд╛рддрд░рдо рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реБрджреНрдз рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдФрд░ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдПрдЬрдВрдбреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рд╡рдз рднреА рдЗрд╕реАрд▓рд┐рдП рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдХреБрдЪрд▓рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реБрджреНрдз рдереЗ рддрд╛ рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЕрдВрдз рд╕реИрдиреНрдп рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреА рдпреБрджреНрдзреЛрдиреНрдорд╛рджреА рдзрд░реНрдореЛрдиреНрдорд╛рджреА рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж рдХреА рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░рдзрд╛рд░рд╛ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╡реЗ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рджреНрд░реЛрд╣реА рд╣реИрдВред
рд╡рд┐рдбрдВрдмрдирд╛ рдпрд╣ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЗрд╕ рдХреЗрд╕рд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд┐рд╣рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдмрдВрдХрд┐рдо рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдЖрдирдВрджрдорда рдХреЛ рдорд╣рд┐рдорд╛рдордВрдбрд┐рдд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рд╕реЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рд╣реА рдордЬрдмреВрдд рд╣реЛрддреА рд╣реИредрдЬрдмрдХрд┐ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдВрдд рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╣реИ,рдЬреЗрд╕ рдореМрдЬреВрджрд╛ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рдВрд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдХреА рдЬрдЧрд╣ рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдВрд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдмрдирд╛рдХрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╛рдорд░рд╛рдЬреНрдп рдХреА рд╕реНрдерд╛рдкрдирд╛ рдХрд░рдирд╛ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХрд╛ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рдзрд░реНрдо рд╕реЗ рдХреЛрдИ рд▓реЗрдирд╛ рджреЗрдирд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХрд╛ рдореВрд▓ рд╕реНрд╡рд░ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдпреБрджреНрдз рдШреЛрд╖рдгрд╛ рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рдо рд▓рдЧрд╛рддрд╛рд░ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рдкреБрд░реЛрд╣рд┐рдд рддрдВрддреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рдЬреЛ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЖрд╕реНрдерд╛ рдФрд░ рдзрд░реНрдо рдХрд░реНрдо рдореЗрдВ рдкреБрд░реЛрд╣рд┐рдд рддрдВрддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдХрд╛ рдЬреЛ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рд╣реИ,рд╡рд╣реА рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕рдВрдд рдлрдХреАрд░ рд╕рд╛рдзреБ рдмрд╛рдЙрд▓ рдлрдХреАрд░ рдЧреБрд░реБ рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдХрд▓ рдЙрддреНрддрд░ 24 рдкрд░рдЧрдирд╛ рдХреЗ рдмреИрд░рдХрдкреБрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХ рдЕрджреНрднреБрдд рд╕рд╛рдВрдЧреАрддрд┐рдХ рдЕрдиреБрд╖реНрдард╛рди рдХрд╛ рдЖрдпреЛрдЬрди рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛редрдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛ рдлреЛрдХрд▓реЛрд░ рд╕реЛрд╕рд╛рдЗрдЯреА рдХреЗ рддрддреНрд╡рд╛рд╡рдзрд╛рди рдореЗрдВ рдмрд╛рдЙрд▓ рдХрд╡рд┐ рд▓рд╛рд▓рди рдлрдХреАрд░ рдФрд░ рд▓реЛрдХрдХрд╡рд┐ рд╡рд┐рдЬрдп рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдЧреАрддреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рднрд╛рд╡ рдФрд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдкрд░ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рднрд╛рд╡редрд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдЧреАрддреЛрдВ рдХреА рддреБрд▓рдирд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд╛рд▓рди рдлрдХреАрд░ рдХреЗ рдЧреАрддреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдЬрдп рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдЧреАрддреЛрдВ рдХреА рдкреНрд░рд╕реНрддреБрддрд┐ред
рдЧреМрд░рддрд▓рдм рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╣рд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдЙрддреНрддрд░ 24 рдкрд░рдЧрдирд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдзрд╛рд░реНрдорд┐рдХ рдзреНрд░реВрд╡реАрдХрд░рдг рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рд╣рд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рджрдВрдЧреЗ рд╣реБрдПредрдЗрд╕ рдХрд╛рд░реНрдпрдХреНрд░рдо рдореЗрдВ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдкреНрд░рдЪрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдПрдХ рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рдкреНрд░реЗрдХреНрд╖рд╛рдЧреГрд╣ рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдВрдд рддрдХ рдЬрд╛рддрд┐ рдзрд░реНрдо рдирд┐рд░реНрд╡рд┐рд╢реЗрд╖ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреА рдореМрдЬреВрджрдЧреА рдЖрдЦрд┐рд░ рддрдХ рдмрдиреЗ рд░рд╣рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдЪ рдмрддрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдЬрдирдкрджреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд▓реЛрдХ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреА рдЬрдбрд╝реЗрдВ рдХрд┐рддрдиреА рдордЬрдмреВрдд рд╣реИрдВред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдЬрдирдкрджреЛрдВ рдХреА рдПрд╕реА рд▓реЛрдХрд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рд░рдЪреА рдмрд╕реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╡рд╣реА рд╕реЗ рд╡реЗ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдХреЛ рд╕рдВрдмреЛрдзрд┐рдд рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЬреЛ рдЕрдм рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рдХрд▓рд╛ рдорд╛рдзреНрдпрдореЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдЬрдорд╛рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдЕрдиреБрдкрд╕реНрдерд┐рдд рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛рддрд░ рд▓реЗрдЦрдХ,рдХрд╡рд┐,рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдпрдХрд╛рд░ рдЗрд╕ рд╕рдЪ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдордирд╛ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдХрддрд░рд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдЗрд╕ рдХрд╛рд░реНрдпрдХреНрд░рдо рдХреА рдЕрдзреНрдпрдХреНрд╖рддрд╛ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдкрд░рд┐рд╖рдж рдХреЗ рд╡рд╛рд░рд┐рдж рд╡рд░рдг рдЬреА рдиреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ рдХрд┐ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рд╢реЛрд░рд╢рд░рд╛рдмреЗ рдФрд░ рддрдХрдиреАрдХреА рдХреНрд░рд╛рдВрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рддрд╛рдВрдбрд╡ рдореЗрдВ рд▓реЛрдХ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреА рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рджрд┐рдирдЪрд░реНрдпрд╛ рд╕реЗ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдЧрд╛рдпрдм рд╣реЛрддреА рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИредрдХреБрдЫ рд╕рдордп рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рддрдХ рдЬрдирдкрджреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЧрд╛рдВрд╡реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рд╢рд╣рд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд▓реЛрдХ ┬ард╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреА рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рджрд┐рдирдЪрд░реНрдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд╢рд╛рдорд┐рд▓ рдереАред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд╛рд▓рди рдлрдХреАрд░ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рднрд╛рд╡ рдкрд░ рдмреЛрд▓рддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рд▓реЛрдХрд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реЗрд╖рдЬреНрдЮ рд╢рдХреНрддрд┐рдирд╛рде рдЭрд╛ рдиреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЬрдм рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдкреВрд░реНрд╡реА рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╛рдИрджрд╣ рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдЬрдореАрдВрджрд╛рд░реА рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рдордХрд╛рдЬ рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрд╛рддреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЙрд╕рд╡рдХреНрдд рд▓рд╛рд▓рди рдлрдХреАрд░ рдХреА рдЙрдореНрд░ 116 рдХреЗ рдЖрд╕рдкрд╛рд╕ рдереАредрдХрдорд╕реЗрдХрдо рд╕реМ рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рдереЗ рд╡реЗредрдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рдпрд╣ рдХрд╣рдирд╛ рдореБрд╢реНрдХрд┐рд▓ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЙрди рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рдореБрд▓рд╛рдХрд╛рдд рд╣реБрдИ рдпрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВредрд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд▓рд╛рд▓рдирдкрдВрдерд┐рдпреЛрдВрдХреЗ рд╕рдВрдкрд░реНрдХ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдЬрд░реБрд░ рдереЗ рдФрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рдмрд╛рд░ рдмрд╛рд░ рд▓рд╛рд▓рди рдлрдХреАрд░ рдХрд╛ рдЙрд▓реНрд▓реЗрдЦ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕реАрддрд░рд╣ рд▓реЛрдХрдХрд╡рд┐ рд╡рд┐рдЬрдп рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рдХрд╣рдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╡рд┐рдЬрдп рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдЙрдкрд╛рд╕рдирд╛ рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд╣реА рдЧреАрдд рдЧрд╛рддреЗ рдереЗредрдпрд╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ,рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд╡рд┐рдЧрд╛рди рдХреЗ рдордВрдЪ рдкрд░ рд╡реЗ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рдХрд╡рд┐ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдФрд░ рдХрд╛рдЬреА рдирдЬрд░реБрд▓ рдЗрд╕реНрд▓рд╛рдо рдХреА рдХрд╡рд┐рддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЛ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рддрдХ рдкрд╣реБрдВрдЪрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛рдо рдХрд░рддреЗ рдереЗред
рдЖрднрд┐рдЬрд╛рдд рдХреБрд▓реАрди рддрдмрдХреЗ рдХреЗ рджрд╛рдпрд░реЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╣рд░ рдЕрдкрдврд╝ рдЕрдзрдкрдврд╝ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рддрдХ рд▓реЛрдХрд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдорд╛рдзреНрдпрдо рд╕реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдФрд░ рдирдЬрд░реБрд▓ рдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╡рдХреНрддрд╡реНрдп рдЗрд╕реА рддрд░рд╣ рдкрд╣реБрдВрдЪрддрд╛ рдерд╛редрдЗрд╕реАрддрд░рд╣ рд▓реЛрдХрд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдордВрдЪ рдкрд░ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди реЯрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдХреЛ рд╕реАрдзреЗ рд╕реЛрдВрдмреЛрдзрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдХреЗ рдЬрдирдордд рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рдФрд░ рдЬрдирд╛рдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдЧрдврд╝рдиреЗ рдХреА рд╢реБрд░реБрдЖрдд рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рддреА рдереАред
рдХрд╛рд░реНрдпрдХреНрд░рдо рдореЗрдВ рднрд╛рдиреБрд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рдХреЗ рдирд╛рдо рд╕реЗ рд╕рдВрдд рдХрд╡рд┐ рд╕реВрд░рджрд╛рд╕ рд╕реЗ рдкреНрд░реЗрд░рд┐рдд рднрд╛рдиреБрд╕рд┐рдВрд╣реЗрд░ рдкрджрд╛рд╡рд▓реА рдХреЗ рдЧреАрдд рдорд░рдгрд░реЗ рддреБрдо рд╢реНрдпрд╛рдо рд╕рдорд╛рди ┬ардХреЛ рдЧрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдмрд╛рдж рдЙрддреНрддрд░рд╛ рдиреЗ рдЗрд╕реА рдореБрдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╡рд┐рдЬрдп рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреА рдЧреАрдд рдЧрд╛рдпрд╛ рддреЛ рд▓рд╛рд▓рди рдлрдХреАрд░ рдХреЗ рдордиреЗрд░ рдорд╛рдиреБрд╖ рдЧреАрдд рдХреЗ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рд╛рдгреЗрд░ рдорд╛рдиреБрд╖ рдХреЛ рдкреНрд░рд╕реНрддреБрдд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ред
тЖз
рдЕрдореАрд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдл,рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдЦрддреНрдо,рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдмрдЪрдд рдЦрд╛рддреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд╕реВрдж рдореЗрдВ рдХрдЯреМрддреА рдФрд░ рдореЗрд╣рдирдХрд╢ рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЛ рд╕рдЬрд╛ рдП рдореМрдд! рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдлреА рдХреЗ рдирд╛рдЯрдХ рдХреА рдЖрдбрд╝ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдХрддреНрд▓реЗрдЖрдо рдФрд░ рдЕрдореАрд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╣рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ред
рдЕрдореАрд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдл,рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдЦрддреНрдо,рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдмрдЪрдд рдЦрд╛рддреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд╕реВрдж рдореЗрдВ рдХрдЯреМрддреА рдФрд░ рдореЗрд╣рдирдХрд╢ рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЛ рд╕рдЬрд╛ рдП рдореМрдд!
рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдлреА рдХреЗ рдирд╛рдЯрдХ рдХреА рдЖрдбрд╝ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдХрддреНрд▓реЗрдЖрдо рдФрд░ рдЕрдореАрд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╣рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ред
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рдЕрд▓реНрдк рдмрдЪрдд рдпреЛрдЬрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдкрд░ рдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ рдШрдЯрд╛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИредрднрд╡рд┐рд╖реНрдп рдирд┐рдзрд┐ рдХрд╛ рдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ 14 рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд╢рдд рд╕реЗ рдЖрда рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд╢рдд рддрдХ рдЖ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдПрдХ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рддрдХ рдХреЗ рдмрдЪрдд рдЦрд╛рддреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдорд╛ рдкрд░ рдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ рджрд░ рдШрдЯрддреЗ рдШрдЯрддреЗ 3.5 рдлрд░реНрддрд┐рд╢рдд рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИредрдмреИрдВрдХрд┐рдВрдЧ рд╕реЗ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рднрд▓рд╛ рдЗрд╕ рддрд░рд╣ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдЬрдмрдХрд┐ рдЕрдореАрд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рд╣рд░ рд╕рд╛рд▓ рд▓рд╛рдЦреЛрдВ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рдХрд╛ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдл рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рд╕реБрдирд╣рд▓реЗ рджрд┐рдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдиреЗ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЕрдореАрд░реЛ рдХреЛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдбреВрдмрд╛ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдл рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рдХреЛ рдЬрд╛рдпрдЬ рдмрддрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдлреА рдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдЯрдХ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рд░рд┐рдкреЛрд░реНрдЯ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рд╕рд╛рд░реНрд╡рдЬрдирд┐рдХ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рд╡рд┐рддреНрддреАрдп рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдореЗрдВ 81,683 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рдХрд╛ рдбреВрдмрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдл рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдЬреЛ рд╡рд┐рддреНрддреАрдп рд╡рд░реНрд╖ 2015-16 рд╕реЗ 41 рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд╢рдд рдЕрдзрд┐рдХ рд╣реИред
рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдЦрддреНрдо рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рд▓ рдордХрд╕рдж рдХрд╛ рдкрд░реНрджрд╛рдлрд╛рд╢ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИредрддреЛ рдпрд╣ рднреА рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рдл рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рдорддрд▓рдм рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд╛рддреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рд╕реАрдзреЗ рдкрд╣реБрдВрдЪрд╛рдирд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рддреЗрдЬреА рд╕реЗ рдЦрддреНрдо рдХреА рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИредрдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рдФрд░ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдХреА рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЦреЗрддреА рдФрд░ рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреА рдмреЗрдзрдЦрд▓реА рдХрд╛ рдЦреЗрд▓ рд╣реИред
рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рдЬрд░реБрд░рддреЗрдВ рдФрд░ рд╕реЗрд╡рд╛рдПрдВ рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд╣рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдХрд░рдХреЗ рд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рдФрд░ рдиреМрдХрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдЫреАрдирдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рдореБрдХреНрдд рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХреА рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рджреЗрд╢реА рд╡рд┐рджреЗрд╢реА рдХрдВрдкрдирд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдФрд░ рдзрд░реНрдо рдХрд╛ рджреБрд░реБрдкрдпреЛрдЧ рдХрд░рдХреЗ рдПрдХрд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдХрд╛рдпрдо рдХрд░рдХреЗ рдЦреЗрддреА рдФрд░ рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдмреЗрджрдЦрд▓ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рд╕рдВрд╕рд╛рдзрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рд╛рде рджреЗрд╢ рдХреА рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрдкреНрд░рднреБрддрд╛ рднреА рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рдХрдВрдкрдирд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╣рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИред
рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдЪ рдпрд╣реА рд╣реИрдГрдЕрдореАрд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдл,рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдЦрддреНрдо рдФрд░ рдореЗрд╣рдирдХрд╢ рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЛ рд╕рдЬрд╛ рдП рдореМрддред
рд╣рдЬрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рд╕реБрдзрд╛рд░ рдФрд░ рдзрд░реНрдореЛрдиреНрдорд╛рджреА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХрд╛ рдорддрд▓рдм рдЕрдореАрд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╕реБрдирд╣рд▓реЗ рджрд┐рди рд╣реИрдВред
рдХреБрдЫреЗрдХ рд╣рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдереЛрдХ рдХреЗ рднрд╛рд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рди рдЦреБрджрдХрд╢реА рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рддреЛ рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдХреЗ рднреБрдЧрддрд╛рди рдХреА рд╕реБрд╡рд┐рдзрд╛ рдХреЗ рдорджреНрджреЗрдирдЬрд░ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рд╕реАрдзреЗ рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рдкрд╣рдВрдЪрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдорджреНрджреЗрдирдЬрд░ рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╛рдЧрд░рд┐рдХреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЧреЛрдкрдиреАрдпрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдирд┐рдЬрддрд╛,рдЙрдирдХреА рдЖрдЬрд╛рджреА рдХреА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдирд┐рдЧрд░рд╛рдиреА рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЙрдирдХреА рд╕рд╛рд░реА рдЬрд╛рдирдХрд╛рд░реА рджреЗрд╢реА рд╡рд┐рджреЗрд╢реА рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рдХрдВрдкрдирд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рд╕реМрдВрдкрдХрд░ рдЗрд╕ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рдмрд╣реБрд╕рдВрдЦреНрдп рдЖрдо рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЬрд╛рди рдорд╛рд▓ рдХреЛ рдЬреЛрдЦрд┐рдо рдореЗрдВ рдбрд╛рд▓ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдордЬрджреВрд░реЛрдВ рдХреА рдХрд╣реАрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рд╕реБрдирд╡рд╛рдИ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ,рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЕрдореАрд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЯреИрдХреНрд╕ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд╛рдЦреЛрдВ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рдХреА рдЫреВрдЯ рджреЗрдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рдмрд┐рдЬрдиреЗрд╕ рдлреНрд░реЗрдВрдбрд▓реА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдбреВрдмрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдл рдХрд░рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рдирд┐рдХрд╛рд▓рдиреЗ рдХреА рддреИрдпрд╛рд░реА рдореЗрдВ рд╣реИрдВред
рдирд┐рдЬреАрдХрд░рдг рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдирд┐рд╡реЗрд╢ рдФрд░ рдЖрдЯреЛрдореЗрд╢рди рд╕реЗ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХрд░реНрдордЪрд╛рд░реА рднреА рдЖрдИрдЯреА рд╕реЗрдХреНрдЯрд░ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдЫрдВрдЯрдиреА рдХреА рддрд▓рд╡рд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдЬреВрдЭ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЕрдм рдЕрдореАрд░реЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдлреА рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рд░рд╛ рд╣рд┐рд╕рд╛рдм рдЙрди рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЫрдВрдЯрдиреА рдФрд░ рд▓реЗрдЖрдл рд╕реЗ рдкреВрд░рд╛ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕реА рдмреАрдЪ рдЦрдмрд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ 3-4 рдЧреНрд▓реЛрдмрд▓ рд▓реЗрд╡рд▓ рдХреЗ рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рдмреИрдВрдХ рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдХрдВрд╕реЙрд▓рд┐рдбреЗрд╢рди (рдПрдХреАрдХрд░рдг) рдХреЗ рдПрдЬреЗрдВрдбреЗ рдкрд░ рддреЗрдЬреА рд╕реЗ рдХрд╛рдо рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╡рд╣ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рдВрдЦреНрдпрд╛ рдШрдЯрд╛рдХрд░ рдХрд░реАрдм 12 рдХрд░реЗрдЧреАред рдордзреНрдпрдо рдЕрд╡рдзрд┐ рдореЗрдВ 21 рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдХрдВрд╕реЙрд▓рд┐рдбреЗрдЯ рдХрд░рдХреЗ 10-12 рдмреИрдВрдХ рдмрдирд╛рдП рдЬрд╛рдПрдВрдЧреЗред рдереНрд░реА-рдЯрд┐рдпрд░ рдврд╛рдВрдЪреЗ рдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕реЗ рдХреЗ рддрд╣рдд рд╕реНрдЯреЗрдЯ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдСрдл рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ (SBI) рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдЗрдЬ рдХреЗ 3-4 рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рдмреИрдВрдХ рд╣реЛрдВрдЧреЗредрдмреИрдВрдХ рдХрд░реНрдордЪрд╛рд░рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдХреНрдпрд╛ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓рд╛ рд╣реИ,рд╕рдордЭ рд▓реАрдЬрд┐рдпреЗред
рдЬреАрдПрд╕рдЯреА рд╕реЗ рдмрд╛рд╣рд░ рд░рдЦрдХрд░ рдЧреИрд╕ рдФрд░ рддреЗрд▓ рдХреА рдЪрд╣реЗрддреА рдХрдВрдкрдирд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдиреНрдпрд╛рд░рд╛ рд╡рд╛рд░рд╛ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рд╕рдВрд╕рд╛рдзрди рдЙрдиреНрд╣реАрдВ рдХреЗ рд╣рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрддреЛ рдЕрдм рдЦрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рджреА рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рд╕рд╛рд░реА рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рднреА рдЦрддреНрдо рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреА рддреИрдпрд╛рд░реА рд╣реИредрдЧрд░реАрдмреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдорд┐рд▓рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓рд╛ рдХрд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рди рддреЗрд▓ рдХреА рд╕рдмреНрд╕рд┐рдбреА рднреА рдЦрддреНрдо рдХреА рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕ рдмреАрдЪ┬ард╕реАрдкреАрдЖрдИ (рдПрдо) рдХреЗ рдорд╣рд╛рд╕рдЪрд┐рд╡ рд╕реАрддрд╛рд░рд╛рдо рдПрдЪреБрд░реА рдиреЗ рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рдордВрддреНрд░реА рдЕрд░реВрдг рдЬреЗрдЯрд▓реА рдкрд░ рддрдВрдЬ рдХрд╕рддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдХрд╣рд╛ рдХрд┐ рдпрджрд┐ рдХреЗрд░рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдЫреБрдЯреНрдЯрд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рдмрд┐рддрд╛ рд▓реАрдВ рд╣реЛ рддреЛ рдЗрд╕ рд╡рд┐рд╖рдп рдкрд░ рдЯрд┐рдкреНрдкрдгреА рдХрд░реЗрдВред
рдЦрдмрд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ┬ард╕рд╛рд░реНрд╡рдЬрдирд┐рдХ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдлрдВрд╕реЗ рдХреА рд╡рд╛рд╕реНрддрд╡рд┐рдХ рд░рд╛рд╢рд┐ рдХреЛ рдХрдо рдХрд░рдХреЗ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред рдХрд░реАрдм рджрд░реНрдЬрди рднрд░ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХ рдРрд╕реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдЬрд┐рдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдлрдВрд╕реЗ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдХреА рд░рд╛рд╢рд┐ рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЗ рдЕрдиреБрдорд╛рди рдХреА рддреБрд▓рдирд╛ рдореЗрдВ 15 рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд╢рдд рддрдХ рдХрдо рдмрддрд╛рдпреА рд╣реИред┬а
рд╣рдХреАрдХрдд рдпрд╣ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХ рдлрдВрд╕реЗ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдХреА рд░рд╛рд╢рд┐ рдХреЛ рд╡рд╕реВрд▓рдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдорд╛рдл рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред┬ардмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдпрд╣ рдЪреМрдВрдХрд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓рд╛ рддрдереНрдп рдирд┐рдпрдВрддреНрд░рдг рдПрд╡рдВ рдорд╣рд╛рд▓реЗрдЦрд╛ рдкрд░реАрдХреНрд╖рдХ (рдХреИрдЧ) рдХреА рдСрдбрд┐рдЯ рд░рд┐рдкреЛрд░реНрдЯ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рдордиреЗ рдЖрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рд░рд╛рдЬреНрдп рдордВрддреНрд░реА рдЕрдЬрд░реБрди рд░рд╛рдо рдореЗрдШрд╡рд╛рд▓ рдиреЗ рд╢реБрдХреНрд░рд╡рд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рд▓реЛрдХрд╕рднрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдкреЗрд╢ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ред
рдХреИрдЧ рдиреЗ рдпрд╣ рд░рд┐рдкреЛрд░реНрдЯ 'рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдкреВрдВрдЬреАрдХрд░рдг'рдХрд╛ рдСрдбрд┐рдЯ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рдХреА рд╣реИред рдЗрд╕ рд░рд┐рдкреЛрд░реНрдЯ рдореЗрдВ рдпрд╣ рднреА рдмрддрд╛рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдмрд▓рдмреВрддреЗ рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдкреВрдВрдЬреА рдЬреБрдЯрд╛рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╛рдХрд╛рдо рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред рд░рд┐рдкреЛрд░реНрдЯ рдХреЗ рдЕрдиреБрд╕рд╛рд░ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдиреЗ рд╕рд╛рд░реНрд╡рдЬрдирд┐рдХ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рд╡рд░реНрд╖ 2018-19 рддрдХ 1,10,000 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдЬреБрдЯрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рд▓рдХреНрд╖реНрдп рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдерд╛ред рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдВрдХрд┐ рдЗрд╕ рд▓рдХреНрд╖реНрдп рдХреЗ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓реЗ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдЬрдирд╡рд░реА 2015 рд╕реЗ рдорд╛рд░реНрдЪ 2017 рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рдорд╛рддреНрд░ 7,726 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рд╣реА рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдЬреБрдЯрд╛ рдкрд╛рдПред рдХреИрдЧ рдиреЗ 2019 рддрдХ рдмрд╛рдХреА рдПрдХ рд▓рд╛рдЦ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рд╕реЗ рдЕрдзрд┐рдХ рдХреА рдкреВрдВрдЬреА рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдЬреБрдЯрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХреА рдХреНрд╖рдорддрд╛ рдкрд░ рдЖрд╢рдВрдХрд╛ рднреА рдЬрддрд╛рдпреА рд╣реИред
рдХреИрдЧ рд░рд┐рдкреЛрд░реНрдЯ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдЕрд╣рдо рдмрд╛рдд рдЬреЛ рд╕рд╛рдордиреЗ рдЖрдпреА рд╣реИ, рд╡рд╣ рдпрд╣ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХ рдлрдВрд╕реЗ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдХреА рд╡рд╕реВрд▓реА рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреА рддреБрд▓рдирд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдЗрд╕реЗ рдорд╛рдл рдЕрдзрд┐рдХ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рд╡рд░реНрд╖ 2011-15 рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рднрд╛рд░реА рднрд░рдХрдо 1,47,527 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рдХреЗ рдлрдВрд╕реЗ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдорд╛рдл рдХрд┐рдпреЗ рдЬрдмрдХрд┐ рд╕рд┐рд░реНрдл 1,26,160 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рдХреА рд╡рд╕реВрд▓реА рд╣реЛрдиреА рдереАред
рд░рд┐рдкреЛрд░реНрдЯ рд╕реЗ рдкрддрд╛ рдЪрд▓рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдлрдВрд╕реЗ рдХрд░реНрдЬ рдХреА рд░рд╛рд╢рд┐ рддреАрди рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдмрдврд╝рдХрд░ рддреАрди рдЧреБрдирд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреАред рдорд╛рд░реНрдЪ 2014 рдореЗрдВ рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдХрд▓ рдПрдирдкреАрдП 2.27 рд▓рд╛рдЦ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рдерд╛ рдЬреЛ рдорд╛рд░реНрдЪ 2017 рдореЗрдВ рдмрдврд╝рдХрд░ 6.83 рд▓рд╛рдЦ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ред рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдВрдХрд┐ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдЪреМрдВрдХрд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рдмрд╛рдд рдпрд╣ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдХрдИ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХ рдЕрдкрдиреА рдПрдирдкреАрдП рдХреА рд╡рд╛рд╕реНрддрд╡рд┐рдХ рд░рд╛рд╢рд┐ рдирд╣реАрдВ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХ рдПрдирдкреАрдП рдХреА рд░рд╛рд╢рд┐ рдХреЛ рдХрдо рдХрд░рдХреЗ рджрд┐рдЦрд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред рдХреИрдЧ рд░рд┐рдкреЛрд░реНрдЯ рдХреЗ рдЕрдиреБрд╕рд╛рд░ рджрд░реНрдЬрди рднрд░ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рдЬрд┐рддрдирд╛ рдПрдирдкреАрдП рдмрддрд╛рдпрд╛, рд╡рд╣ рдЖрд░рдмреАрдЖрдЗ рдХреЗ рдЕрдиреБрдорд╛рди рд╕реЗ 15 рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд╢рдд рдХрдо рдерд╛ред
рдХреИрдЧ рдиреЗ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреА рдУрд░ рд╕реЗ рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рджреА рдЧрдпреА рдкреВрдВрдЬреА рдХреА рдкреНрд░рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдХрдИ рддрд░рд╣ рдХреА рдЦрд╛рдорд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рдЙрдЬрд╛рдЧрд░ рдХреА рд╣реИрдВред рд░рд┐рдкреЛрд░реНрдЯ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд╣рд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЬреЛ рдкреВрдВрдЬреА рджреЗ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ, рдЙрд╕рдХрд╛ рдЙрдкрдпреБрдХреНрдд рдЗрд╕реНрддреЗрдорд╛рд▓ рд╕реБрдирд┐рд╢реНрдЪрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдкреНрд░рднрд╛рд╡реА рдирд┐рдЧрд░рд╛рдиреА рддрдВрддреНрд░ рд╣реЛрдирд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣рд┐рдПред
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THE RELIGION OF MAN RABINDRANATH TAGOR
THE HIBBERT LECTURES FOR 1930 THE RELIGION OF MAN RABINDRANATH TAGORJS THE RELIGION BEING THE HIBBERT LECTURES FOR 1930 NEW YORK THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1931 COPYRIGHT, 1931, BY THE MACM1LLAN COMPANY. All rights reserved no part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher. Set up and elcctrotypcd Published February, 193 8T W BY MAWtf WKmiRltS WKOTVWtfl MIHTBri IK TI1K UNITXD MATft tif A V1RU'A TO DOROTHY ELMHIRST PREFACE THE chapters included in this book, which com- prises the Hibbert Lectures delivered in Oxford, at Manchester College, during the month of May 1930, contain also the gleanings of my thoughts on the same subject from the harvest of many lectures and addresses delivered in different countries of the world over a considerable period of my life. The fact that one theme runs through all only proves to me that the Religion of Man has been growing within my mind as a religious experience and not merely as a philosophical subject In fact, a very large portion of my writings, beginning from the earlier products of my immature youth down to the present time, carry an almost con- tinuous trace of the history of this growth. To-day I am made conscious of the fact that the works that I have started and the words that I have uttered are deeply linked by a unity of inspiration whose proper definition has often remained un- revealed to me. In the present volume I offer the evidence of my own personal life brought into a definite focus. To some of my readers this will supply matter of psychological interest; but for others I hope it will carry with It its own ideal value important for such a subject as religion. 7 PREFACE My sincere thanks are due to the Hibbert Trus- tees, and especially to Dr. W. H. Drummond, with whom I have been in constant correspond- ence, for allowing me to postpone the delivery of these Hibbert Lectures from the year 1928, when I was too ill to proceed to Europe, until the sum- mer of 1930. I have also to thank the Trustees for their very kind permission given to me to present the substance of the lectures in this book in an enlarged form by dividing the whole subject into chapters instead of keeping strictly to the lecture form in which they were delivered in Oxford* May I add that the great kindness of my hostess* Mrs. Drummond, in Oxford, will always remain in my memory along with these lectures as inti- mately associated with them? In the Appendix I have gathered together from my own writings certain parallel passages which bring the reader to the heart of my main theme. Furthermore, two extracts, which contain histori- cal material of great value, are from the pen of my esteemed colleague and friend, Professor KshitI Mohan Sen, To him I would express my gratitude for the help he has given me in bringing before me the religious ideas of medieval India which* touch the subject of my lectures. RABINDMNATH TAGORE September 1930 8 CONTENTS PAGE PREFACE 7 CHAPTER I. MAN'S UNIVERSE n II. THE CREATIVE SPIRIT * 3 III. THE SURPLUS IN MAN 49 IV, SPIRITUAL UNION 63 V. THE PROPHET 7 z VI. THE VISION 88 VII. THE MAN OF MY HEART 107 VIII. THE MUSIC MAKER 117 IX. THE ARTIST 127 X. MAN'S NATURE 141 XL THE MEETING 154 XII. THE TEACHER 163 XIII. SPIRITUAL FREEDOM 179 XIV. THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE 189 XV. CONCLUSION 202 APPENDIX I. THE BAtJL SINGERS OF BENGAL 207 II- NOTE ON THE NATURE OF REALITY aa* IIL DADU AND THE MYSTERY OF FORM 226 IV. NIGHT AND MORNING 333 INDEX 43 The eternal Dream is borne on the wings of ageless Light that rends the veil of the vague and goes across Time weaving ceaseless patterns of Being. The mystery remains dumb, the meaning of this pilgrimage, the endless adventure of existence whose rush along the sky flames up into innumerable rings of paths, till at last knowledge gleams out from the dusk in the infinity of human spirit, and in that dim lighted dawn she speechlessly gazes through the break in the mist at the vision of Life and of Love rising from the tumult of profound pain and joy, Santiniketan September 16, 1939 (Composed for the Opening Day Celebrations of the Indian College, Montpelier, France.) THE RELIGION OF MAN. CHAPTER I MAN'S UNIVERSE LIGHT, as the radiant energy of creation, started the ring-dance of atoms in a diminutive sky, and also the dance of the stars in the vast, lonely theatre of time and space* The planets came out of their bath of fire and basked in the sun for ages. They were the thrones of the gigantic Inert, dumb and desolate, which knew not the meaning of its own blind destiny and majestically frowned upon a future when its monarchy would be menaced. Then came a time when life was brought into the arena in the tiniest little monocycle of a cell. With its gift of growth and power of adaptation it faced the ponderous enormity of things, and contradicted the unmeaningness of their bulk. It was made conscious not of the volume but of the value of existence, which it ever tried to enhance and maintain in many-branched paths of creation, overcoming the obstructive inertia of Nature by obeying Nature's law* But the miracle of creation did not stop here in this isolated speck of life launched on a lonely voyage to the Unknown. A multitude of cells were bound together into a larger unit, not through IX THE RELIGION OF MAN aggregation, but through a marvellous quality of complex inter-relationship maintaining a perfect co-ordination of functions. This is the creative principle of unity, the divine mystery of existence, that baffles all analysis. The larger co-operative units could adequately pay for a greater freedom of self-expression, and they began to form and develop in their bodies new organs of power, ne\v instruments of efficiency. This was the march of evolution ever unfolding the potentialities of life, But this evolution which continues on the physi- cal plane has its limited range. All exaggeration in that direction becomes a burden that breaks the natural rhythm of life, and those creatures that encouraged their ambitious flesh to grow in dimen- sions have nearly all perished of their cumbrous absurdity. Before the chapter ended Man appeared and turned the course of this evolution from an indefi- nite march of physical aggrandisement to a free- dom of a more subtle perfection. This has made possible his progress to become unlimited, and has enabled him to realize the boundless in his power, The fire is lighted, the hammers are working, and for laborious days and nights amidst dirt and discordance the musical instrument is being made, We may accept this as a detached fact and follow its evolution* But when the music is revealed, we know that the whole thing is a part of the manifes* 12 MAN'S UNIVERSE tation of music in spite of its contradictory charac- ter. The process of evolution, which after ages has reached man, must be realized in its unity with him; though in him it assumes a new value and proceeds to a different path. It is a continuous process that finds its meaning in Man ; and we must acknowledge that the evolution which Science talks of is that of Man's universe. The leather binding and title-page are parts of the book itself ; and this world that we perceive through our senses and mind and life's experience is profoundly one with ourselves. The divine principle of unity has ever been that of an inner inter-relationship. This is revealed in some of its earliest stages in the evolution of multi- cellular life on this planet. The most perfect in- ward expression has been attained by man in his Wn body. But what is most important of all is the ( f act that man has also attained its realization in a ,more subtle body outside his physical system. He 'misses himself when isolated; he finds his own larger and truer self in his wide human relation- Ship, His multicellular body is born and it dies; his multi-personal humanity is immortal In this ideal of unity he realizes the eternal in his life and the boundless in his love. The unity becomes not a mere subjective idea, but an energizing truth. Whatever name may be given to it, and whatever form it symbolizes, the consciousness of this unity 13 THE RELIGION OF MAN is spiritual, and our effort to be true to it is our religion. It ever waits to be revealed in our history in a more and more perfect illumination. We have our eyes, which relate to us the vision of the physical universe. We have also an inner faculty of our own which helps us to find our rela- tionship with the supreme self of man, the universe of personality. This faculty is our luminous imagi- nation, which in its higher stage is special to man. It offers us that vision of wholeness which for the biological necessity of physical survival is super- fluous; its purpose is to arouse in us the sense of perfection which is our true sense of immortality. For perfection dwells ideally in Man the Eternal, inspiring love for this ideal in the individual, urg- ing him more and more to realize it The development of intelligence and physical power is equally necessary in animals and men for their purposes of living; but what is unique in man is the development of his consciousness which gradually deepens and widens the realization of his immortal being, the perfect, the eternal. It inspires those creations of his that reveal the divin- ity in him which is his humanity in the varied manifestations of truth, goodness and beauty, in the freedom of activity which is not for his use but for his ultimate expression* The individual man must exist for Man the great, and must express him in disinterested works, in science and philosophy, 14 MAN' S UNIVERSE in literature and arts, in service and worship. This is his religion, which is working in the heart of all his religions in various names and forms. He knows and uses this world where it is endless and thus attains greatness, but he realizes his own truth where it is perfect and thus finds his ful- filment, The idea of the humanity of our God, or the divinity of Man the Eternal, is the main subject of this book. This thought of God has not grown in my mind through any process of philosophical rea- soning* On the contrary, it has followed the cur- rent of my temperament from early days until it suddenly flashed into my consciousness with a direct vision. The experience which I have de- scribed in one of the chapters which follow con- vinced me that on the surface of our being we have the ever-changing phases of the individual self, but in the depth there dwells the Eternal Spirit of human unity beyond our direct knowledge. It very often contradicts the trivialities of our daily life, and upsets the arrangements made for securing our personal exclusiveness behind the walls of indi- vidual habits and superficial conventions. It in- spires in us works that are the expressions of a Universal Spirit; it invokes unexpectedly in the midst of a self-centred life a supreme sacrifice. At its call, we hasten to dedicate our lives to the cause 15 THE RELIGION OF MAN of truth and beauty, to unrewarded service of others, in spite of our lack of faith in the positive reality of the ideal values. During the discussion of my own religious experience I have expressed my belief that the first stage of my realization was through my feel- ing of intimacy with Nature not that Nature which has its channel of information for our mind and physical relationship with our living body, but that which satisfies our personality with mani- festations that make our life rich and stimulate our imagination in their harmony of forms, colours, sounds and movements. It is not that world which vanishes into abstract symbols behind its own testi- mony to Science, but that which lavishly displays its wealth of reality to our personal self having its own perpetual reaction upon our human nature. I have mentioned in connection with my per- sonal experience some songs which I had often heard from wandering village singers, belonging to a popular sect of Bengal, called Baiiis,' who have no images, temples, scriptures, or ceremo- nials, who declare in their songs the divinity of Man, and express for him an intense feeling of love. Coming from men who are unsophisticated, living a simple life in obscurity, it gives us a clue to the inner meaning of all religions. For it sug* gests that these religions are never about a God of * Se Appendix I, 16 MAN'S UNIVERSE cosmic force, but rather about the God of human personality. At the same time it must be admitted that even the impersonal aspect of truth dealt with by Science belongs to the human Universe. But men of Science tell us that truth, unlike beauty and goodness, is independent of our consciousness. They explain to us how the belief that truth is independent of the human mind is a mystical belief, natural to man but at the same time inex- plicable. But may not the explanation be this, that ideal truth does not depend upon the individual mind of man, but on the universal mind which comprehends the individual? For to say that truth, as we see it, exists apart from humanity is really to contradict Science itself; because Science can only organize into rational concepts those facts which man can know and understand, and logic is a machinery of thinking created by the mechanic man. The table that I am using with all its varied meanings appears as a table for man through his special organ of senses and his special organ of thoughts* When scientifically analysed the same table offers an enormously different appearance to him from that given by his senses. The evidence of his physical senses and that of his logic and his scientific instruments are both related to his own power of comprehension; both are true and true THE RELIGION OF MAN for him. He makes use of the table with full confi- dence for his physical purposes, and with equal confidence makes intellectual use of it for his scien- tific knowledge. But the knowledge is his who is a man. If a particular man as an individual did not exist, the table would exist all the same, but still as a thing that is related to the human mind. The contradiction that there is between the table of our sense perception and the table of our scientific knowledge has its compon centre of reconciliation in human personality. The same thing holds true in the realm of idea. In the scientific idea of the world there is no gap in the universal law of causality. Whatever hap- pens could never have happened otherwise. This is a generalization which has been made possible by a quality of logic which is possessed by the human mind. But this very mind of Man has its immediate consciousness of will within him which is aware of its freedom and ever struggles for it Every day in most of our behaviour we acknowl- edge its truth; in fact, our conduct finds its best value in its relation to its truth. Thus this has its analogy in our daily behaviour with regard to a table. For whatever may be the conclusion that Science has unquestionably proved about the table, we are amply rewarded when we deal with it as a solid fact and never as a crowd of fluid elements that represent a certain kind of energy. We can 18 MAN'S UNIVERSE also utilize this phenomenon of the measurement The space represented by a needle when magnified by the microscope may cause us no anxiety as to the number of angels who could be accommo- dated on its point or camels which could walk through its eye. In a cinema-picture our vision of time and space can be expanded or condensed merely according to the different technique of the instrument. A seed carries packed in a minute receptacle a future which is enormous in its con- tents both in time and space. The truth, which is Man, has not emerged out of nothing at a certain point of time, even though seemingly it might have been manifested then. But the manifestation of Man has no end in itself not even now. Neither did it have its beginning in- any particular time we ascribe to it The truth of Man is in the heart of eternity, the fact of it being evolved through endless ages. If Man's manifestation has round it a background of millions of light-years, still it is his own background. He includes in him- self the time, however long, that carries the process of his becoming, and he is related for the very truth of his existence to all things that surround him. Relationship is the fundamental truth of this world of appearance. Take, for instance, a piece of coal When we pursue the fact of it to its ulti- mate composition, substance which seemingly is THE RELIGION OF MAN the most stable element in it vanishes in centres of revolving forces. These are the units, called the elements of carbon, which can further be analysed into a certain number of protons and electrons. Yet these electrical facts are what they are, not in their detachment, but in their inter-relationship, and though possibly some day they themselves may be further analysed, nevertheless the pervasive truth of inter-relation which is manifested in them will remain. We do not know how these elements, as carbon, compose a piece of coal ; all that we can say is that they build up that appearance through a unity of inter-relationship, which unites them not merely in an individual piece of coal, but in a comrade- ship of creative co-ordination with the entire physical universe. Creation has been made possible through the continual self-surrender of the unit to the universe. And the spiritual universe of Man is also ever claiming self-renunciation from the individual units. This spiritual process is not so easy as the physical one in the physical world, for the intelli- gence and will of the units have to be tempered to those of the universal spirit It is said in a verse of the Upanishad that this world which is all movement is pervaded by one supreme unity, and therefore true enjoyment can never be had through the satisfaction of greed, but 20 MAN'S UNIVERSE only through the surrender of our individual self to the Universal Self. There are thinkers who advocate the doctrine of the plurality of worlds, which can only mean that there are worlds that are absolutely unrelated to each other. Even if this were true it could never be proved. For our universe is the sum total of what Man feels, knows, imagines, reasons to be, and of whatever is knowable to him now or in another time. It affects him differently in its dif- ferent aspects, in its beauty, its inevitable sequence of happenings, its potentiality; and the world proves itself to him only in its varied effects upon his senses, imagination and reasoning mind. I do not imply that the final nature of the world depends upon the comprehension of the individual person* Its reality is associated with the universal human rnind which comprehends all time and all possibilities of realization. And this is why for the accurate knowledge of things we depend upon Science that represents the rational mind of the universal Man, and not upon that of the individual who dwells in a limited range of space and time and the immediate needs of life. And this is why there is such a thing as progress in our civiliza- tion; for progress means that there is an ideal per- fection which the individual seeks to reach by extending his limits in knowledge, power, love, enjoyment, thus approaching the universal. The 21 THE RELIGION OF MAN most distant star, whose faint message touches the threshold of the most powerful telescopic vision, has its sympathy with the understanding mind of man, and therefore we can never cease to believe that we shall probe further and further into the mystery of their nature. As we know the truth of the stars we know the great comprehensive mind of man. We must realize not only the reasoning mind, but also the creative imagination, the love and wis- dom that belong to the Supreme Person, whose Spirit is over us all, love for whom comprehends love for all creatures and exceeds in depth and strength all other loves, leading to difficult en- deavours and martyrdoms that have no other gain than the fulfilment of this love itself. The Isha of our Upanishad, the Super Soul, which permeates all moving things, is the God of this human universe whose mind we share in all our true knowledge, love and service, and whom to reveal in ourselves through renunciation of self is the highest end of life. CHAPTER II THE CREATIVE SPIRIT ONCE, during the improvisation of a story by a young child, I was coaxed to take my part as the hero. The child imagined that I had been shut in a dark room locked from the outside. She asked me, "What will you do for your freedom?" and I answered, "Shout for help". But, however desir- able that might be if it succeeded immediately, it would be unfortunate for the story. And thus she in her imagination had to clear the neighbourhood of all kinds of help that my cries might reach. I was compelled to think of some violent means of kicking through this passive resistance ; but for the sake of the story the door had to be made of steel. I found a key, but it would not fit, and the child was delighted at the development of the story jumping over obstructions. Life's story of evolution, the main subject of which is the opening of the doors of the dark dun- geon, seems to develop in the same manner. Diffi- culties were created, and at each offer of an answer the story had to discover further obstacles in order to carry on the adventure. For to come to an abso- lutely satisfactory conclusion is to come to the end of all things, and in that case the great child would 33 THE RELIGION OF MAN have nothing else to do but to shut her curtain and go to sleep. The Spirit of Life began her chapter by intro- ducing a simple living cell against the tremen- dously powerful challenge of the vast Inert. The triumph was thrillingly great which still refuses to yield its secret She did not stop there, but defi- antly courted difficulties, and in the technique of her art exploited an element which still baffles our logic. This is the harmony of self-adjusting inter-rela- tionship impossible to analyse. She brought close together numerous cell units and, by grouping them into a self-sustaining sphere of co-operation, elaborated a larger unit It was not a mere agglom- eration. The grouping had its caste system in the division of functions and yet an intimate unity of kinship. The creative life summoned a larger army of cells under her command and imparted into them, let us say, a communal spirit that fought with all its might whenever its integrity was menaced. This was the tree which has its inner harmony and inner movement of life in its beauty, its strength, its sublime dignity of endurance, its pil- grimage to the Unknown through the tiniest gates of reincarnation. It was a sufficiently marvellous achievement to be a fit termination to the creative venture. But the creative genius cannot stop 24 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT exhausted ; more windows have to be opened ; and she went out of her accustomed way and brought another factor into her work, that of locomotion. Risks of living were enhanced, offering opportuni- ties to the daring resourcefulness of the Spirit of Life. For she seems to revel in occasions for a fight against the giant Matter, which has rigidly pro- hibitory immigration laws against all new-comers from Life's shore. So the fish was furnished with appliances for moving in an element which offered its density for an obstacle. The air offered an even more difficult obstacle in its lightness; but the challenge was accepted, and the bird was gifted with a marvellous pair of wings that negotiated with the subtle laws of the air and found in it a better ally than the reliable soil of the stable earth. The Arctic snow set up its frigid sentinel; the tropical desert uttered in its scorching breath a gigantic "No" against all life's children. But those peremptory prohibitions were defied, and the frontiers, though guarded by a death penalty, were triumphantly crossed. This process of conquest could be described as progress for the kingdom of life. It journeyed on through one success to another by dealing with the laws of Nature through the help of the invention of new instruments. This field of life's onward march is a field of ruthless competition. Because the material world is the world of quantity, where 25 THE RELIGION OF MAN resources are limited and victory waits for those who have superior facility in their weapons, there- fore success in the path of progress for one group most often runs parallel to defeat in another. It appears that such scramble and fight for opportunities of living among numerous small combatants suggested at last an imperialism of big bulky flesh a huge system of muscles and bones, thick and heavy coats of armour and enormous tails. The idea of such indecorous massiveness must have seemed natural to life's providence; for the victory in the world of quantity might reason- ably appear to depend upon the bigness of dimen- sion. But such gigantic paraphernalia of defence and attack resulted in an utter defeat, the records of which every day are being dug up from the des- ert sands and ancient mud flats. These represent the fragments that strew the forgotten paths of a great retreat in the battle of existence. For the heavy weight which these creatures carried was mainly composed of bones, hides, shells, teeth and claws that were non-living, and therefore imposed its whole huge pressure upon life that needed free- dom and growth for the perfect expression of its own vital nature. The resources for living which the earth offered for her children were recklessly spent by these megalomaniac monsters of an im- moderate appetite for the sake of maintaining a cumbersome system of dead burdens that thwarted 26 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT them in their true progress. Such a losing game has now become obsolete. To the few stragglers of that party, like the rhinoceros or the hippopota- mus, has been allotted a very small space on this earth, absurdly inadequate to their formidable strength and magnitude of proportions, making them look forlornly pathetic in the sublimity of their incongruousness. These and their extinct forerunners have been the biggest failures in life's experiments. And then, on some obscure dusk of dawn, the experiment entered upon a completely new phase of a disarmament proposal, when little Man made his appearance in the arena, bringing with him expectations and suggestions that are unfathomably great. We must know that the evolution process of the world has made its progress towards the revelation of its truth that is to say some inner value which is not in the extension in space and duration in time. When life came out it did not bring with it any new materials into existence. Its elements are the same which are the materials for the rocks and minerals. Only it evolved a value in them which cannot be measured and analysed. The same thing is true with regard to mind and the consciousness of self ; they are revelations of a great meaning, the self-expression of a truth. In man this truth has made its positive appearance, and is struggling to make its manifestation more and more clear. That 27 THE RELIGION OF MAN which is eternal is realizing itself in history through the obstructions of limits. The physiological process in the progress of Life's evolution seems to have reached its finality in man. We cannot think of any noticeable addi- tion or modification in our vital instruments which we are likely to allow to persist. If any individual is born, by chance, with an extra pair of eyes or ears, or some unexpected limbs like stowaways without passports, we are sure to do our best to eliminate them from our bodily organization. Any new chance of a too obviously physical variation is certain to meet with a determined disapproval from man, the most powerful veto being expected from his aesthetic nature, which peremptorily re- fuses to calculate advantage when its majesty is offended by any sudden license of form. We all know that the back of our body has a wide surface practically unguarded. From the strategic point of view this oversight is unfortunate, causing us annoyances and indignities, if nothing worse, through unwelcome intrusions. And this could reasonably justify in our minds regret for retrench- ment in the matter of an original tail, whose memorial we are still made to carry in secret But the least attempt at the rectification of the policy of economy in this direction is indignantly re- sented. I strongly believe that the idea of ghosts had its best chance with our timid imagination in 28 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT our sensitive back a field of dark ignorance; and yet it is too late for me to hint that one of our eyes could profitably have been spared for our burden- carrier back, so unjustly neglected and haunted by undefined fears. Thus, while all innovation is stubbornly op- posed, there is every sign of a comparative care- lessness about the physiological efficiency of the human body. Some of our organs are losing their original vigour. The civilized life, within walled enclosures, has naturally caused in man a weaken- ing of his power of sight and hearing along with subtle sense of the distant. Because of our habit of taking cooked food we give less employment to our teeth and a great deal more to the dentist. Spoilt and pampered by clothes, our skin shows lethargy in its function of adjustment to the atmos- pheric temperature and in its power of quick recovery from hurts. The adventurous Life appears to have paused at a crossing in her road before Man came. It seems as if she became aware of wastefulness in carrying on her experiments and adding to her inventions purely on the physical plane. It was proved in Life's case that four is not always twice as much as two. In living things it is necessary to keep to the limit of the perfect unit within which the inter-relationship must not be inordinately strained* The ambition that seeks power in the 29 THE RELIGION OF MAN augmentation of dimension is doomed; for that perfection which is in the inner quality of harmony becomes choked when quantity overwhelms it in a fury of extravagance. The combination of an exaggerated nose and arm that an elephant carries hanging down its front has its advantage. This may induce us to imagine that it would double the advantage for the animal if its tail also could grow into an additional trunk. But the progress which greedily allows Life's field to be crowded with an excessive production of instruments becomes a progress towards death. For Life has its own nat- ural rhythm which a multiplication table has not; and proud progress that rides roughshod over Life's cadence kills it at the end with encum- brances that are unrhythmic. As I have already mentioned, such disasters did happen in the history of evolution. The moral of that tragic chapter is that if the tail does not have the decency to know where to stop, the drag of this dependency becomes fatal to the body's empire. Moreover, evolutionary progress on the physical plane inevitably tends to train up its subjects into specialists. The camel is a specialist of the desert and is awkward in the swamp. The hippopotamus which specializes in the mudlands of the Nile is helpless in the neighbouring desert Such one- sided emphasis breeds professionalism in Life's 30 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT domain, confining special efficiencies in narrow compartments. The expert training in the aerial sphere is left to the bird ; that in the marine is par- ticularly monopolized by the fish. The ostrich is an expert in its own region and would look utterly foolish in an eagle's neighbourhood. They have to remain permanently content with advantages that desperately cling to their limits. Such mutilation of the complete ideal of life for the sake of some exclusive privilege of power is inevitable; for that form of progress deals with materials that are physical and therefore necessarily lim- ited. To rescue her own career from such a multiply- ing burden of the dead and such constriction of specialization seems to have been the object of the Spirit of Life at one particular stage. For it does not take long to find out that an indefinite pursuit of quantity creates for Life, which is essentially qualitative, complexities that lead to a vicious cir- cle. These primeval animals that produced an enormous volume of flesh had to build a gigantic system of bones to carry the burden. This required in its turn a long and substantial array of tails to give it balance. Thus their bodies, being com- pelled to occupy a vast area, exposed a very large surface which had to be protected by a strong, heavy and capacious armour. A progress which represented a congress of dead materials required THE RELIGION OP MAN a parallel organization of teeth and claws, or horns and hooves, which also were dead. In its own manner one mechanical burden links itself to other burdens of machines, and Life grows to be a carrier of the dead, a mere platform for machinery, until it is crushed to death by its inter- minable paradoxes. We are told that the greater part of a tree is dead matter; the big stem, except for a thin covering, is lifeless. The tree uses it as a prop in its ambition for a high position and the life- less timber is the slave that carries on its back the magnitude of the tree. But such a dependence upon a dead dependant has been achieved by the tree at the cost of its real freedom. It had to seek the stable alliance of the earth for the sharing of its burden, which it did by the help of secret under- ground entanglements making itself permanently stationary. But the form of life that seeks the great privilege of movement must minimize its load of the dead and must realize that life's progress should be a perfect progress of the inner life itself and not of materials and machinery; the non-living must not continue outgrowing the living, the armour dead- ening the skin, the armament laming the arms. At last, when the Spirit of Life found her form in Man, the effort she had begun completed its cycle, and the truth of her mission glimmered into suggestions which dimly pointed to some direction 32 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT of meaning across her own frontier. Before the end of this cycle was reached, all the suggestions had been external. They were concerned with technique, with life's apparatus, with the efficiency of the organs. This might have exaggerated itself into an endless boredom of physical progress. It can be conceded that the eyes of the bee possessing numerous facets may have some uncommon advan- tage which we cannot even imagine, or the glow- worm that carries an arrangement for producing light in its person may baffle our capacity and com- prehension. Very likely there are creatures having certain organs that give them sensibilities which we cannot have the power to guess. All such enhanced sensory powers merely add to the mileage in life's journey on the same road lengthening an indefinite distance. They never take us over the border of physical existence. The same thing may be said not only about life's efficiency, but also life's ornaments. The colouring and decorative patterns on the bodies of some of the deep sea creatures make us silent with amaze- ment The butterfly's wings, the beetle's back, the peacock's plumes, the shells of the crustaceans, the exuberant outbreak of decoration in plant life, have reached a standard of perfection that seems to be final. And yet if it continues in the same physical direction, then, however much variety of surprising excellence it may produce, it leaves out 33 THE RELIGION OF MAN some great element of unuttered meaning. These ornaments are like ornaments lavished upon a cap- tive girl, luxuriously complete within a narrow limit, speaking of a homesickness for a far away horizon of emancipation, for an inner depth that is beyond the ken of the senses. The freedom in the physical realm is like the circumscribed free- dom in a cage. It produces a proficiency which is mechanical and a beauty which is of the surface. To whatever degree of improvement bodily strength and skill may be developed they keep life tied to a persistence of habit It is closed, like a mould, useful though it may be for the sake of safety and precisely standardized productions. For centuries the bee repeats its hive, the weaver-bird its nest, the spider its web; and instincts strongly attach themselves to some invariable tendencies of muscles and nerves never being allowed the privi- lege of making blunders. The physical functions, in order to be strictly reliable, behave like some model schoolboy, obedient, regular, properly re- peating lessons by rote without mischief or mistake in his conduct, but also without spirit and initia- tive. It is the flawless perfection of rigid limits, a cousin possibly a distant cousin of the inani- mate. Instead of allowing a full paradise of perfection to continue its tame and timid rule of faultless regularity the Spirit of Life boldly declared for 34 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT a further freedom and decided to eat of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. This time her struggle was not against the Inert, but against the limitation of her own overburdened agents. She fought against the tutelage of her prudent old prime min- ister, the faithful instinct She adopted a novel method of experiment, promulgated new laws, and tried her hand at moulding Man through a his- tory which was immensely different from that which went before. She took a bold step in throw- ing open her gates to a dangerously explosive fac- tor which she had cautiously introduced into her council the element of Mind. I should not say that it was ever absent, but only that at a certain stage some curtain was removed and its play was made evident, even like the dark heat which in its glowing intensity reveals itself in a contradiction of radiancy. Essentially qualitative, like life itself, the Mind does not occupy space. For that very reason it has jio bounds in its mastery of space. Also, like Life, Mind has its meaning in freedom, which it missed in its earliest dealings with Life's children. In the animal, though the mind is allowed to come out of the immediate limits of livelihood, its range is restricted, like the freedom of a child that might run out of its room but not out of the house; or, rather, like the foreign ships to which only a cer- tain port was opened in Japan in the beginning of 33 THE RELIGION OF MAN her contact with the West in fear of the danger that might befall if the strangers had their uncon- trolled opportunity of communication. Mind also is a foreign element for Life; its laws are different, its weapons powerful, its moods and manners most alien. Like Eve of the Semitic mythology, the Spirit of Life risked the happiness of her placid seclusion to win her freedom. She listened to the whisper of a tempter who promised her the right to a new region of mystery, and was urged into a permanent alliance with the stranger. Up to this point the interest of life was the sole interest in her own kingdom, but another most powerfully parallel interest was created with the advent of this adven- turer Mind from an unknown shore. Their inter- ests clash, and complications of a serious nature arise. I have already referred to some vital organs of Man that are suffering from neglect. The only reason has been the diversion created by the Mind interrupting the sole attention which Life's func- tions claimed in the halcyon days of her undisputed monarchy. It is no secret that Mind has the habit of asserting its own will for its expression against life's will to live and enforcing sacrifices from hen When lately some adventurers accepted the dan- gerous enterprise to climb Mount Everest, it was solely through the instigation of the arch-rebel Mind. In this case Mind denied its treaty of co- 36 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT operation with its partner and ignored Life's claim to help in her living. The immemorial privileges of the ancient sovereignty of Life are too often flouted by the irreverent Mind; in fact,- all through the course of this alliance there are constant cases of interference with each other's functions, often with unpleasant and even fatal results. But in spite of this, or very often because of this antagonism, the new current of Man's evo- lution is bringing a wealth to his harbour infinitely beyond the dream of the creatures of monstrous flesh. The manner in which Man appeared in Life's kingdom was in itself a protest and a challenge, the challenge of Jack to the Giant. He carried in his body the declaration of mistrust against the crowding of burdensome implements of physical progress. His Mind spoke to the naked man, "Fear not" ; and he stood alone facing the menace of a heavy brigade of formidable muscles. His own puny muscles cried out in despair, and he had to invent for himself in a novel manner and in a new spirit of evolution. This at once gave him his promotion from the passive destiny of the animal to the aristocracy of Man* He began to create his further body, his outer organs the workers which served him and yet did not directly claim a share of his life. Some of the earliest in his list were bows and arrows. Had this change been under- 37 THE RELIGION OF MAN taken by the physical process of evolution, modify- ing his arms in a slow and gradual manner, it might have resulted in burdensome and ungainly apparatus. Possibly, however, I am unfair, and the dexterity and grace which Life's technical in- stinct possesses might have changed his arm into a shooting medium in a perfect manner and with a beautiful form. In that case our lyrical literature to-day would have sung in praise of its fascination, not only for a consummate skill in hunting victims, but also for a similar mischief in a metaphorical sense. But even in the service of lyrics it would show some limitation. For instance, the arms that would specialize in shooting would be awkward in wielding a pen or stringing a lute. But the great advantage in the latest method of human evolution lies in the fact that Man's additional new limbs, like bows and arrows, have become detached. They never tie his arms to any exclusive advantage of efficiency. The elephant's trunk, the tiger's paws, the claws of the mole, have combined their best expressions in' the human arms, which are much weaker in their original capacity than those limbs I have mentioned. It would have been a hugely cumber- some practical joke if the combination of animal limbs had had a simultaneous location In the hu- man organism through some overzeal in biological inventiveness. 38 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT The first great economy resulting from the new programme was the relief of the physical burden, which means the maximum efficiency with the minimum pressure of taxation upon the vital re- sources of the body. Another mission of benefit was this, that it absolved the Spirit of Life in Man's case from the necessity of specialization for the sake of limited success. This has encouraged Man to dream of the possibility of combining in his single person the fish, the bird and the fleet- footed animal that walks on land. Man desired in his completeness to be the one great representative of multiform life, not through wearisome subjec- tion to the haphazard gropings of natural selection, but by the purposeful selection of opportunities with the help of his reasoning mind. It enables the schoolboy who is given a pen-knife on his birthday to have the advantage over the tiger in the fact that it does not take him- a million years to obtain its possession, nor another million years for its removal, when the instrument proves un- necessary or dangerous. The human mind has compressed ages into a few years for the acquisi- tion of steel-made claws. The only cause of anxiety is that the instrument and the temperament which uses it may not keep pace in perfect harmony. In the tiger, the claws and the temperament which only a tiger should possess have had a synchronous development, and in no single tiger is any malad- THE RELIGION OF MAN justment possible between its nails and its tigerli- ness. But the human boy, who grows a claw in the form of a pen-knife, may not at the same time develop the proper temperament necessary for its use which only a man ought to have. The new organs that to-day are being added as a supple- ment to Man's original vital stock are too quick and too numerous for his inner nature to develop its own simultaneous concordance with them, and thus we see everywhere innumerable schoolboys in human society playing pranks with their own and other people's lives and welfare by means of newly acquired pen-knives which have not had time to become humanized. One thing, I am sure, must have been noticed that the original plot of the drama is changed, and the mother Spirit of Life has retired into the back- ground, giving full prominence, in the third act, to the Spirit of Man though the dowager queen, from her inner apartment, still renders necessary help. It is the consciousness in Man of his own creative personality which has ushered in this new regime in Life's kingdom. And from now onwards Man's attempts are directed fully to capture the government and make his own Code of Legislation prevail without a break. We have seen in India those who are called mystics, impatient of the con- tinued regency of mother Nature in their own 40 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT body, winning for their will by a concentration of inner forces the vital regions with which our mas- terful minds have no direct path of communi- cation. But the most important fact that has come into prominence along with the change of direction in our evolution, is the possession of a Spirit which has its enormous capital with a surplus far in excess of the requirements of the biological animal in Man. Some overflowing influence led us over the strict boundaries of living, and offered to us an open space where Man's thoughts and dreams could have their holidays. Holidays are for gods who have their joy in creation. In Life's primitive paradise, where the mission was merely to live, any luck which came to the creatures entered in from outside by the donations of chance; they lived on perpetual charity, by turns petted and kicked on the back by physical Providence. Beg- gars never can have harmony among themselves; they are envious of one another, mutually suspi- cious, like dogs living upon their master's favour, showing their teeth, growling, barking, trying to tear one another. This is what Science describes as the struggle for existence. This beggars' para- dise lacked peace ; I am sure the suitors for special favour from fate lived in constant preparedness, inventing and multiplying armaments. 41 THE RELIGION OF MAN But above the din of the clamour and scramble rises the voice of the Angel of Surplus, of leisure, of detachment from the compelling claim of physical need, saying to men, "Rejoice". From his original serfdom as a creature Man takes his right seat as a creator. Whereas, before, his incessant appeal has been to get, now at last the call comes to him to give. His God, whose help he was in the habit of asking, now stands Himself at his door and asks for his offerings. As an animal, he is still dependent upon Nature; as a Man, he is a sover- eign who builds his world and rules it And there, at this point, comes his religion, whereby he realizes himself in the perspective of the infinite. There is a remarkable verse in the Atharva Veda which says: "Righteousness, truth, great endeavours, empire, religion, enterprise, heroism and prosperity, the past and the future, dwell in the surpassing strength of the sur- plus." What is purely physical has its limits like the shell of an egg ; the liberation is there in the atmos- phere of the infinite, which is indefinable, invisible. Religion can have no meaning in the enclosure of mere physical or material interest; it is in the sur- plus we carry around our personality the surplus which is like the atmosphere of the earth, bringing to her a constant circulation of light and life and delightfulness* 42 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT I have said in a poem of mine that when the child is detached from its mother's womb it finds its mother in a real relationship whose truth is in freedom. Man in his detachment has realized him- self in a wider and deeper relationship with the universe. In his moral life he has the sense of his obligation and his freedom at the same time, and this is goodness. In his spiritual life his sense of the union and the will which is free has its cul- mination in love. The freedom of opportunity he wins for himself in Nature's region by uniting his power with Nature's forces. The freedom of social relationship he attains through owning responsi- bility to his community, thus gaining its collective power for his own welfare. In the freedom of con- sciousness he realizes the sense of his unity with his larger being, finding fulfilment in the dedicated life of an ever-progressive truth and ever-active love. The first detachment achieved by Man is physi- cal. It represents his freedom from the aecessity of developing the power of his senses and limbs in the limited area of his own physiology, having for itself an unbounded background with an im- mense result in consequence. Nature's original intention was that Man should have the allowance of his sight-power ample enough for his surround- ings and a little over. But to have to develop an astronomical telescope on our skull would cause 43 THE RELIGION OF MAN a worse crisis of bankruptcy than it did to the Mammoth whose densely foolish body indulged in an extravagance of tusks. A snail carries its house on its back and therefore the material, the shape and the weight have to be strictly limited to the capacity of the body. But fortunately Man's house need not grow on the foundation of his bones and occupy his flesh. Owing to this detachment, his ambition knows no check to its daring in the di- mension and strength of his dwellings. Since his shelter does not depend upon his body, it survives him. This fact greatly affects the man who builds a house, generating in his mind a sense of the eter- nal in his creative work. And this background of the boundless surplus of time encourages architec- ture, which seeks a universal value overcoming the miserliness of the present need. I have already mentioned a stage which Life reached when the units of single cells formed them- selves into larger units, each consisting of a multi- tude. It was not merely an aggregation, but had a mysterious unity of inter-relationship, complex in character, with differences within of forms and function. We can never know concretely what this relation means, There are gaps between the units, but they do not stop the binding force that per- meates the whole. There is a future for the whole which is in its growth, but in order to bring this 44 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT about each unit works and dies to make room for the next worker. While the unit has the right to claim the glory of the whole, yet individually it cannot share the entire wealth that occupies a his- tory yet to be completed. Of all creatures Man has reached that multicel- lular character in a perfect manner, not only in his body but in his personality. For centuries his evo- lution has been the evolution of a consciousness that tries to be liberated from the bonds of indi- vidual separateness and to comprehend in its rela- tionship a wholeness which may be named Man. This relationship, which has been dimly instinc- tive, is ever struggling to be fully aware of itself. Physical evolution sought for efficiency in a per- fect communication with the physical world; the evolution of Man's consciousness sought for truth in a perfect harmony with the world of personality. There are those who will say that the idea of humanity is an abstraction, subjective in character* It must be confessed that the concrete objective- ness of this living truth cannot be proved to its own units. They can never see its entireness from outside; for they are one with it The individual cells of our body have their separate lives; but they never have the opportunity of observing the body as a whole with its past, present and future. If these cells have the power of reasoning (which 45 THE RELIGION OF MAN they may have for aught we know) they have the right to argue that the idea of the body has no objective foundation in fact, and though there is a mysterious sense of attraction and mutual influ- ence running through them, these are nothing posi- tively real ; the sole reality which is provable is in the isolation of these cells made by gaps that can never be crossed or bridged. We know something about a system of explosive atoms whirling separately in a space which is im- mense compared to their own dimension. Yet we do not know why they should appear to us a solid piece of radiant mineral. And if there is an onlooker who at one glance can have the view of the immense time and space occupied by innumer- able human individuals engaged in evolving a common history, the positive truth of their solidar- ity will be concretely evident to him and not the negative fact of their separateness. The reality of a piece of iron is not provable if we take the evidence of the atom ; the only proof is that I see it as a bit of iron, and that it has cer- tain reactions upon my consciousness. Any being from, say, Orion, who has the sight to see the atoms and not the iron, has the right to say that we human beings suffer from an age-long epidemic of hallu- cination. We need not quarrel with him but go on using the iron as it appears to us. Seers there have been who have said "Vedahametam", "I see", 46 THE CREATIVE SPIRIT and lived a life according to that vision. f And though our own sight may be blind we have ever bowed our head to them in reverence. However, whatever name our logic may give to the truth of human unity, the fact can never be ignored that we have our greatest delight when we realize ourselves in others, and this is the defi- nition of love. This love gives us the testimony of the great whole, which is the complete and final truth of man. It offers us the immense field where we can have our release from the sole monarchy of hunger, of the growling voice, snarling teeth and tearing claws, from the dominance of the limited material means, the source of cruel envy and ignoble deception, where the largest wealth of the human soul has been produced through sympathy and co-operation ; through disinterested pursuit of knowledge that recognizes no limit and is unafraid of all time-honoured tabus; through a strenuous cultivation of intelligence for service that knows no distinction of colour and clime. The Spirit of Love, dwelling in the boundless realm of the sur- plus, emancipates our consciousness from the illu- sory bond of the separateness of self; it is ever trying to spread its illumination in the human world. This is the spirit of civilization, which in all its best endeavour invokes our supreme Being for the only bond of unity that leads us to truth, namely, that of righteousness: 47 THE RELIGION OF MAN Ya efco varno bahudha saktiyogat varnan anekan nihitartho dadhati vichaitti chante viavamadau sa devah sa no budhya subhaya samyunaktu. "He who is one, above all colours, and who with his manifold power supplies the inherent needs of men of all colours, who is in the beginning and in the end of the world, is divine, and may he unite us in a relationship of good will." CHAPTER III THE SURPLUS IN MAN THERE are certain verses from the Atharva Veda in which the poet discusses his idea of Man, indi- cating some transcendental meaning that can be translated as follows : "Who was it that imparted form to man, gave him majesty, movement, manifestation and character, inspired him with wis- dom, music and dancing? When his body was raised upwards he found also the oblique sides and all other directions in him he who is the Person, the citadel of the infinite being." Tasmad vai vidvan purushamidan brahmeti manyate. "And therefore the wise man knoweth this person as Brahma." Sanatanam enam ahur utadya syat punarnavah. "Ancient they call him, and yet he is renewed even now to-day." In the very beginning of his career Man asserted in his bodily structure his first proclamation of freedom against the established rule of Nature. At a certain bend in the path of evolution he refused to remain a four-footed creature, and the position which he made his body to assume carried with it a permanent gesture of insubordination. For there could be no question that it was Nature's 49 THE RELIGION OF MAN own plan to provide all land-walking mammals with two pairs of legs, evenly distributed along their lengthy trunk heavily weighted with a head at the end. This was the amicable compromise made with the earth when threatened by its con- servative downward force, which extorts taxes for all movements. The fact that man gave up such an obviously sensible arrangement proves his inborn mania for repeated reforms of constitution, for pelting amendments at every resolution proposed by Providence. If we found a four-legged table stalking about upright upon two of its stumps, the remaining two foolishly dangling by its sides, we should be afraid that it was either a nightmare or some supernormal caprice of that piece of furniture, indulging in a practical joke upon the carpenter's idea of fitness. The like absurd behaviour of Man's anatomy encourages us to guess that he was born under the influence of some comet of contradiction that forces its eccentric path against orbits regulated by Nature. And it is significant that Man should per- sist in his foolhardiness, in spite of the penalty he pays for opposing the orthodox rule of animal locomotion. He reduces by half the help of an easy balance of his muscles. He is ready to pass his infancy tottering through perilous experiments in making progress upon insufficient support, and followed all through his life by liability to sudden 50 THE SURPLUS IN MAN downfalls resulting in tragic or ludicrous conse- quences from which law-abiding quadrupeds are free. This was his great venture, the relinquish- ment of a secure position of his limbs, which he could comfortably have retained in return for humbly salaaming the all-powerful dust at every step. This capacity to stand erect has given our body its freedom of posture, making it easy for us to turn on all sides and realize ourselves at the centre of things. Physically, it symbolizes the fact that while animals have for their progress the prolonga- tion of a narrow line Man has the enlargement of a circle. As a centre he finds his meaning in a wide perspective, and realizes himself in the magnitude of his circumference. As one freedom leads to another, Man's eyesight also found a wider scope. I do not mean any enhancement of its physical power, which in many predatory animals has a better power of adjust- ment to light But from the higher vantage of our physical watch-tower we have gained our view, which is not merely information about the location of things but their inter-relation and their unity* But the best means of the expression of his physi- cal freedom gained by Man in his vertical position is through the emancipation of his hands. In our bodily organization these have attained the high- est dignity for their skill) their grace, their useful Si THE RELIGION OF MAN activities, as well as for those that are above all uses. They are the most detached of all our limbs. Once they had their menial vocation as our car- riers, but raised from their position as shudras, they at once attained responsible status as our helpers. When instead of keeping them under- neath us we offered them their place at our side, they revealed capacities that helped us to cross the boundaries of animal nature. This freedom of view and freedom of action have been accompanied by an analogous mental freedom in Man through his imagination, which is the most distinctly human of all our faculties. It is there to help a creature who has been left unfin- ished by his designer, undraped, undecorated, unarmoured and without weapons, and, what is worse, ridden by a Mind whose energies for the most part are not tamed and tempered into some difficult ideal of completeness upon a background which is bare. Like all artists he has the freedom to make mistakes, to launch into desperate adven- tures contradicting and torturing his psychology or physiological normality. This freedom is a divine gift lent to the mortals who are untutored and undisciplined ; and therefore the path of their creative progress is strewn with debris of devasta- tion, and stages of their perfection haunted by apparitions of startling deformities. But, all the same, the very training of creation ever makes 5* THE SURPLUS IN MAN clear an aim which cannot be in any isolated freak of an individual mind or in that which is only limited to the strictly necessary. Just as our eyesight enables us to include the individual fact of ourselves in the surrounding view, our imagination makes us intensely conscious of a life we must live which transcends the indi- vidual life and contradicts the biological meaning of the instinct of self-preservation. It works at the surplus, and extending beyond the reservation plots of our daily life builds there the guest cham- bers of priceless value to offer hospitality to the world-spirit of Man. We have such an honoured right to be the host when our spirit is a free spirit not chained to the animal self. For free spirit is godly and alone can claim kinship with God. Every true freedom that we may attain in any direction broadens our path of self-realization, which is in superseding the self. The unimagina- tive repetition of life within a safe restriction im- posed by Nature may be good for the animal, but never for Man, who has the responsibility to out- live his life in order to live in truth. And freedom in its process of creation gives rise to perpetual suggestions of something further than its obvious purpose. For freedom is for expressing the infinite; it imposes limits in its works, not to keep them in permanence but to break them over and over again, and to reveal the endless in unend- 53 THE RELIGION OF MAN Ing surprises. This implies a history of constant regeneration, a series of fresh beginnings and con- tinual challenges to the old in order to reach a more and more perfect harmony with some fundamental ideal of truth. Our civilization, in the constant struggle for a great Further, runs through abrupt chapters of spasmodic divergences. It nearly always begins its new ventures with a cataclysm ; for its changes are not mere seasonal changes of ideas gliding through varied periods of flowers and fruit They are surprises lying in ambuscade provoking revo- lutionary adjustments. They are changes in the dynasty of living ideals the ideals that are active in consolidating their dominion with strongholds of physical and mental habits, of symbols, cere- monials and adornments* But however violent may be the revolutions happening in whatever time or country, they never completely detach themselves from a common centre. They find their places in a history which is one. The civilizations evolved in India or China, Persia or Judaea, Greece or Rome, are like several mountain peaks having different altitude, tempera- ture, flora and fauna, and yet belonging to the same chain of hills. There are no absolute barriers of communication between them; their foundation is the same and they affect the meteorology of an atmosphere which is common to us all. This is at 54 THE SURPLUS IN MAN the root of the meaning of the great teacher who said he would not seek his own salvation if all men were not saved ; for we all belong to a divine unity, from which our great-souled men have their direct inspiration; they feel it immediately in their own personality, and they proclaim in their life, "I am one with the Supreme, with the Death- less, with the Perfect". Man, in his mission to create himself, tries to develop in his mind an image of his truth accord- ing to an idea which he believes to be universal, and is sure that any expression given to it will per- sist through all time. This is a mentality abso- lutely superfluous for biological existence. It rep- resents his struggle for a life which is not limited to his body. For our physical life has its thread of unity in the memory of the past, whereas this ideal life dwells in the prospective memory of the future* In the records of past civilizations, un- earthed from the closed records of dust, we find pathetic efforts to make their memories uninter- rupted through the ages, like the effort of a child who sets adrift on a paper boat his dream of reach- ing the distant unknown. But why is this desire? Only because we feel instinctively that in our ideal life we must touch all men and all times through the manifestation of a truth which is eternal and universal. And in order to give expression to it materials are gathered that are excellent and a 55 THE RELIGION O MAN manner of execution that has a permanent value* For we mortals must offer homage to the Man of the everlasting life. In order to do so, we are ex- pected to pay a great deal more than we need for mere living, and in the attempt we often exhaust our very means of livelihood, and even life itself. The ideal picture which a savage imagines of himself requires glaring paints and gorgeous finer- ies, a rowdiness in ornaments and even grotesque deformities of over-wrought extravagance* He tries to sublimate his individual self into a mani- festation which he believes to have the majesty of the ideal Man. He is not satisfied with what he is in his natural limitations ; he irresistibly feels some- thing beyond the evident fact of himself which only could give him worth. It is the principle of power, which, according to his present mental stage, is the meaning of the universal reality whereto he belongs, and it is his pious duty to give expression to it even at the cost of his happiness. In fact, through it he becomes one with his God, for him his God is nothing greater than power. The savage takes immense trouble, and often suf- fers tortures, in order to offer in himself a repre- sentation of power in conspicuous colours and dis- torted shapes, in acts of relentless cruelty and in- temperate bravado of self-indulgence. Such an appearance of rude grandiosity evokes a loyal rev- erence in the members of his community and a 56 THE SURPLUS IN MAN fear which gives them an aesthetic satisfaction because it illuminates for them the picture of a character which, as far as they know, belongs to ideal humanity. They wish to see in him not an individual, but the Man in whom they all are rep* resented. Therefore, in spite of their sufferings, they enjoy being overwhelmed by his exaggerations and dominated by a will fearfully evident owing to its magnificent caprice in inflicting injuries. They symbolize their idea of unlimited wilfulness in their gods by ascribing to them physical and moral enormities in their anatomical idiosyncracy and virulent vindictiveness crying for the blood of victims, in personal preferences indiscriminate in the choice of recipients and methods of rewards and punishments. In fact, these gods could never be blamed for the least wavering in their conduct owing to any scrupulousness accompanied by the emotion of pity so often derided as sentimentalism by virile intellects of the present day. However crude all this may be, it proves that Man has a feeling that he is truly represented in something which exceeds himself. He is aware that he is not imperfect, but incomplete. He knows that in himself some meaning has yet to be real- ized. We do not feel the wonder of it, because it seems so natural to us that barbarism in Man is not absolute, that its limits are like the limits of the horizon. The call is deep in his mind the 57 THE RELIGION OF MAN call of his own inner truth, which is beyond his direct knowledge and analytical logic. And indi- viduals are born who have no doubt of the truth of this transcendental Man. As our consciousness more and more comprehends it, new valuations are developed in us, new depths and delicacies of de- light, a sober dignity of expression through elimi- nation of tawdriness, of frenzied emotions, of all violence in shape, colour, words, or behaviour, of the dark mentality of Ku-Klux-Klanism. Each age reveals its personality as dreamer in its great expressions that carry it across surging centuries to the continental plateau of permanent human history. These expressions may not be con- sciously religious, but indirectly they belong to Man's religion. For they are the outcome of the consciousness of the greater Man in the individual men of the race. This consciousness finds its man- ifestation in science, philosophy and the arts, in social ethics, in all things that carry their ultimate value in themselves. These are truly spiritual and they should all be consciously co-ordinated in one great religion of Man, representing his ceaseless endeavour to reach the perfect in great thoughts and deeds and dreams, in immortal symbols of art, revealing his aspiration for rising in dignity of being. I had the occasion to visit the ruins of ancient Rome, the relics of human yearning towards the 58 THE SURPLUS IN MAN immense, the sight of which teases our mind out of thought. Does it not prove that in the vision of a great Roman Empire the creative imagination of the people rejoiced in the revelation of its trans- cendental humanity? It was the idea of an Empire which was not merely for opening an outlet to the pent-up pressure of over-population, or widening its field of commercial profit, but which existed as a concrete representation of the majesty of Roman personality, the soul of the people dreaming of a world-wide creation of its own for a fit habitation of the Ideal Man. It was Rome's titanic endeavour to answer the eternal question as to what Man truly was, as Man. And any answer given in earn- est falls within the realm of religion, whatever may be its character ; and this answer, in its truth, belongs not only to any particular people but to us all. It may be that Rome did not give the most perfect answer possible when she fought for her place as a world-builder of human history, but she revealed the marvellous vigour of the indomitable human spirit which could say, "Bhumaiva suk- hamf "Greatness is happiness itself". Her Em- pire has been sundered and shattered, but her faith in the sublimity of man still persists in one of the vast strata of human geology. And this faith was the true spirit of her religion, which had been dim in the tradition of her formal theology, merely supplying her with an emotional pastime and not THE RELIGION OF MAN with spiritual inspiration. In fact this theology fell far below her personality, and for that reason it went against her religion, whose mission was to reveal her humanity on the background of the eternal. Let us seek the religion of this and other people not in their gods but in Man, who dreamed of his own infinity and majestically worked for all time, defying danger and death. Since the dim nebula of consciousness in Life's world became intensified into a centre of self in Man, his history began to unfold its rapid chap- ters ; for it is the history of his strenuous answers in various forms to the question rising from this conscious self of his, "What am I?" Man is not happy or contented as the animals are ; for his hap- piness and his peace depend upon the truth of his answer. The animal attains his success in a physi- cal sufficiency that satisfies his nature. When a crocodile finds no obstruction in behaving like an orthodox crocodile he grins and grows and has no cause to complain. It is truism to say that Man also must behave like a man in order to find his truth. But he is sorely puzzled and asks in be- wilderment: "What is it to be like a man? What am I?" It is not left to the tiger to discover what is his own nature as a tiger, nor, for the matter of that, to choose a special colour for his coat accord- ing to his taste. But Man has taken centuries to discuss the ques- 60 THE SURPLUS IN MAN tion of his own true nature and has not yet come to a conclusion. He has been building up elab- orate religions to convince himself, against his nat- ural inclinations, of the paradox that he is not what he is but something greater. What is significant about these efforts is the fact that in order to know himself truly Man in his religion cultivates the vision of a Being who exceeds him in truth and with whom also he has his kinship. These religions differ in details and often in their moral signifi- cance, but they have a common tendency. In them men seek their own supreme value, which they call divine, in some personality anthropomorphic in character. The Mind, which is abnormally scien- tific, scoffs at this ; but it should know that religion is not essentially cosmic or even abstract; it finds itself when it touches the Brahma in man; other- wise it has no justification to exist. It must be admitted that such a human element introduces into our religion a mentality that often has its danger in aberrations that are intellectually blind, morally reprehensible and aesthetically repellent But these are wrong answers; they dis- tort the truth of man and, like all mistakes in sociology, in economics or politics, they have to be fought against and overcome. Their truth has to be judged by the standard of human perfection and not by some arbitrary injunction that refuses to be confirmed by the tribunal of the human con- 6* THE RELIGION OF MAN science. And great religions are the outcome of great revolutions in this direction causing funda- mental changes of our attitude. These religions invariably made their appearance as a protest against the earlier creeds which had been unhu- man, where ritualistic observances had become more important and outer compulsions more im- perious. These creeds were, as I have said before, cults of power; they had their value for us, not helping us to become perfect through truth, but to grow formidable through possessions and magic control of the deity. But possibly I am doing injustice to our ances- tors. It is more likely that they worshipped power not merely because of its utility, but because they, in their way, recognized it as truth with which their own power had its communication and in which it found its fulfilment They must have nat- urally felt that this power was the power of will behind nature, and not some impersonal insanity that unaccountably always stumbled upon correct results. For it would have been the greatest depth of imbecility on their part had they brought their homage to an abstraction, mindless, heartless and purposeless; in fact, infinitely below them in its manifestation. CHAPTER IV SPIRITUAL UNION WHEN Man's preoccupation with the means of livelihood became less insistent he had the leisure to come to the mystery of his own self, and could not help feeling that the truth of his personality had both its relationship and its perfection in an endless world of humanity. His religion, which in the beginning had its cosmic background of power, came to a higher stage when it found its back- ground in the human truth of personality. It must not be thought that in this channel it was narrow- ing the range of our consciousness of the infinite. The negative idea of the infinite is merely an indefinite enlargement of the limits of things; in fact, a perpetual postponement of infinitude. I am told that mathematics has come to the conclusion that our world belongs to a space which is limited. It does not make us feel disconsolate. We do not miss very much and need not have a low opinion of space even if a straight line cannot remain straight and has an eternal tendency to come back to the point from which it started. In the Hindu Scripture the universe is described as an egg; that 63 THB RELIGION OF MAN is to say, for the human mind it has its circular shell of limitation. The Hindu Scripture goes still further and says that time also is not continuous and our world repeatedly comes to an end to begin its cycle once again. In other words, in the region of time and space infinity consists of ever-revolving finitude. But the positive aspect of the infinite is in advaitam, in an absolute unity, in which compre- hension of the multitude is not as in an outer re- ceptacle but as in an inner perfection that per- meates and exceeds its contents, like the beauty in a lotus which is ineffably more than all the con- stituents of the flower. It is not the magnitude of extension but an intense quality of harmony which evokes in us the positive sense of the infinite in our joy, in our love. For advaitam is anandam; the infinite One is infinite Love. For those among whom the spiritual sense is dull, the desire for realization is reduced to physical possession, an actual grasping in space. This longing for magni- tude becomes not an aspiration towards the great, but a mania for the big. But true spiritual realiza- tion is not through augmentation of possession in dimension or number. The truth that is infinite dwells in the ideal of unity which we find in the deeper relatedness. This truth of realization is not in space, it can only be realized in one's own inner spirit 64 SPIRITUAL UNION Ekadhaivanudrashtavyam etat aprameyam dhruvam. (This infinite and eternal has to be known as One.) Para akasat aja atma "this birthless spirit is beyond space". For it is Purushahj it is the "Person". The special mental attitude which India has in her religion is made clear by the word Yoga, whose meaning is to effect union. Union has its signifi- cance not in the realm of to have, but in that of to be. To gain truth is to admit its separateness, but to be true is to become one with truth. Some religions, which deal with our relationship with God, assure us of reward if that relationship be kept true. This reward has an objective value. It gives us some reason outside ourselves for pursuing the prescribed path. We have such religions also in India. But those that have attained a greater height aspire for their fulfilment in union with Narayana, the supreme Reality of Man, which is divine. Our union with this spirit is not to be attained through the mind. For our mind belongs to the department of economy in the human organism. It carefully husbands our consciousness for its own range of reason, within which to permit our rela- tionship with the phenomenal world* But it is the object of Yoga to help us to transcend the limits built up by Mind. On the occasions when these are overcome, our inner self is filled with joy, 65 THE RELIGION OF MAN which indicates that through such freedom we come into touch with the Reality that is an end in itself and therefore is bliss. Once man had his vision of the infinite in the universal Light, and he offered his worship to the sun. He also offered his service to the fire with oblations. Then he felt the infinite in Life, which is Time in its creative aspect, and he said, "Yat *kincha yadidam sarvam prana ejati nihsritam/* "all that there is comes out of life and vibrates in it". He was sure of it, being conscious of Life's mystery immediately in himself as the principle of purpose, as the organized will, the source of all his activi- ties. His interpretation of the ultimate character of truth relied upon the suggestion that Life had brought to him, and not the non-living which is dumb. And then he came deeper into his being and said "Raso vai sah" 9 "the infinite is love itself ", the eternal spirit of joy. His religion, which is in his realization of the infinite, began its journey from the impersonal dyaus, "the sky", wherein light had its manifestation; then came to Life, which represented the force of self-creation in time, and ended in purushak, the "Person", in whom dwells timeless love. It said, "Tarn vedyam purusham ve-dah", "Know him the Person who is to be realized", "Yatha ma vo mrityug parivya~ thah" "So that death may not cause you sorrow". For this Person is deathless in whom the individual 66 S PIRITUAL UNION person has his immortal truth. Of him it is said : "Esha devo uisvakarma mahatma sada jananam hridaye sannivishatah". "This is the divine being, the world-worker, who is the Great Soul ever dwelling inherent in the hearts of all people." Ya etad vidur amritas te bhavanti. "Those who realize him, transcend the limits of mortality" not in duration of time, but in perfection of truth. Our union with a Being whose activity is world- wide and who dwells in the heart of humanity cannot be a passive one. In order to be united with Him we have to divest our work of selfishness and become visvakarma, "the world-worker", we must work for all. When I use the words "for all", I do not mean for a countless number of individuals. All work that is good, however small in extent, is universal in character. Such work makes for a realization of Fisvakarma, "the World-Worker" who works for all. In order to be one with this Mahatma, "the Great Soul", one must cultivate the greatness of soul which identifies itself with the soul of all peoples and not merely with that of one's own. This helps us to understand what Buddha has described as Brahmavihara, "living in the infinite". He says: "Do not deceive each other, do not despise any- body anywhere, never in anger wish anyone to suf- fer through your body, words or thoughts. Like a mother maintaining her only son with her own 67 THE RELIGION OF MAN life, keep thy immeasurable loving thought for all creatures. "Above thee, below thee, on all sides of thee, keep on all the world thy sympathy and immeas- urable loving thought which is without obstruc- tion, without any wish to injure, without enmity. "To be dwelling in such contemplation while standing, walking, sitting or lying down, until sleep overcomes thee, is called living in Brahma". This proves that Buddha's idea of the infinite was not the idea of a spirit of an unbounded cos- mic activity, but the infinite whose meaning is in the positive ideal of goodness and love, which cannot be otherwise than human. By being chari- table, good and loving, you do not realize the infinite, in the stars or rocks, but the infinite re- vealed in Man. Buddha's teaching speaks of Nir- vana as the highest end. To understand its real character we have to know the path of its attain- ment, which is not merely through the negation of evil thoughts and deeds but through the elimination of all limits to love. It must mean the sublimation of self in a truth which is love itself, which unites in its bosom all those to whom we must offer our sympathy and service. When somebody asked Buddha about the orig- inal cause of existence he sternly said that such questioning was futile and irrelevant Did he not mean that it went beyond the human sphere as 68 SPIRITUAL UNION our goal that though such a question might legitimately be asked in the region of cosmic phi- losophy or science, it had nothing to do with man's dharma, man's inner nature, in which love finds its utter fulfilment, in which all his sacrifice ends in an eternal gain, in which the putting out of the lamplight is no loss because there is the all-pervad- ing light of the sun. And did those who listened to the great teacher merely hear his words and understand his doctrines? No, they directly felt in him what he was preaching, in the living lan- guage of his own person, the ultimate truth of Man. It is significant that all great religions have their historic origin in persons who represented in their life a truth which was not cosmic and unmoral, but human and good. They rescued religion from the magic stronghold of demon force and brought it into the inner heart of humanity, into a fulfil- ment not confined to some exclusive good fortune of the individual but to the welfare of all men. This was not for the spiritual ecstasy of lonely souls, but for the spiritual emancipation of all races. They came as the messengers of Man to men of all countries and spoke of the salvation that could only be reached by the perfecting of our relationship with Man the Eternal, Man the Divine. Whatever might be their doctrines of God, or some dogmas that they borrowed from 69 THE RELIGION OF MAN their own time and tradition, their life and teach- ing had the deeper implication of a Being who is the infinite in Man, the Father, the Friend, the Lover, whose service must be realized through serving all mankind. For the God in Man de- pends upon men's service and men's love for his own love's fulfilment The question was once asked in the shade of the ancient forest of India : Kasmai devaya havisha vidhema? "Who is the God to whom we must bring our oblation?" That question is still ours, and to answer it we must know in the depth of our love and the maturity of our wisdom what man is know him not only in sympathy but in science, in the joy of creation and in the pain of heroism ; tena tyaktena bhunjitha, "enjoy him through sacrifice" the sac- rifice that comes of love ; ma gridhah, "covet not" ; for greed diverts your mind to that illusion in you which is your separate self and diverts it from truth in which you represent the parama purushah f "the supreme Person". Our greed diverts our consciousness to materials away from that supreme value of truth which is the quality of the universal being. The gulf thus created by the receding stream of the soul we try to replenish with a continuous stream of wealth, which may have the power to fill but not the power 70 SPIRITUAL UNION to unite and recreate. Therefore the gap is danger- ously concealed under the glittering quicksand oi things, which by their own weight cause a sudden subsidence while we are in the depths of sleep. The real tragedy, however, does not lie in the risk of our material security but in the obscuration of Man himself in the human world. In the crea- tive activities of his soul Man realizes his sur- roundings as his larger self, instinct with his own life and love. But in his ambition he deforms and defiles it with the callous handling of his voracity. His world of utility assuming a gigantic propor- tion, reacts upon his inner nature and hynotically suggests to him a scheme of the universe which is an abstract system. In such a world there can be no question of mukti, the freedom in truth, because it is a solidly solitary fact, a cage with no sky beyond it. In all appearance our world is a closed world of hard facts ; it is like a seed with its tough cover. But within this enclosure is working our silent cry of life for mukti, even when its possibil- ity is darkly silent When some huge overgrown temptation tramples into stillness this living aspi- ration then does civilization die like a seed thai has lost its urging for germination. And this mukh is in the truth that dwells in the ideal man. CHAPTER V THE PROPHET IN my introduction I have stated that the universe to which we are related through our sense percep- tion, reason or imagination, is necessarily Man's universe- Our physical self gains strength and success through its correct relationship in knowl- edge and practice with its physical aspect. The mysteries of all its phenomena are generalized by man as laws which have their harmony with his rational mind. In the primitive period of our his- tory Man's physical dealings with the external world were most important for the maintenance of his life, the life which he has in common with other creatures, and therefore the first expression of his religion was physical it came from his sense of wonder and awe at the manifestations of power in Nature and his attempt to win it for him- self and his tribe by magical incantations and rites. In other words his religion tried to gain a perfect communion with the mysterious magic of Nature's forces through his own power of magic. Then came the time when he had the freedom of leisure to divert his mind to his inner nature and the mystery 72 THE PROPHET of his own personality gained for him its highest importance. And instinctively his personal self sought its fulfilment in the truth of a higher per- sonality. In the history of religion our realization of its nature has gone through many changes even like our realization of the nature of the material world. Our method of worship has followed the course of such changes, but its evolution has been from the external and magical towards the moral and spiritual significance. The first profound record of the change of direc- tion in Man's religion we find in the message of the great prophet in Persia, Zarathustra, and as usual it was accompanied by a revolution. In a later period the same thing happened in India, and it is evident that the history of this religious struggle lies embedded in the epic Mahabharata associated with the name of Krishna and the teach- ings of Bhagavadgita. The most important of all outstanding facts of Iranian history is the religious reform brought about by Zarathustra. There can be hardly any question that he was the first man we know who gave a definitely moral character and direction to religion and at the same time preached the doctrine of monotheism which offered an eternal founda- tion of reality to goodness as an ideal of perfection. All religions of the primitive type try to keep men bound with regulations of external observances. 73 THE RELIGION OF MAN Zarathustra was the greatest of all the pioneer prophets who showed the path of freedom to man, the freedom of moral choice, the freedom from the blind obedience to unmeaning injunctions, the freedom from the multiplicity of shrines which draw our worship away from the single-minded chastity of devotion. To most of us it sounds like a truism to-day when we are told that the moral goodness of a deed comes from the goodness of intention. But it is a truth which once came to Man like a revela- tion of light in the darkness and it has not yet reached all the obscure corners of humanity. We still see around us men who fearfully follow, hop- ing thereby to gain merit, the path of blind formal- ism, which has no living moral source in the mind. This will make us understand the greatness of Zarathustra. Though surrounded by believers in magical rites, he proclaimed in those dark days of unreason that religion has its truth in its moral significance, not in external practices of imagin- ary value; that its value is in upholding man in his life of good thoughts, good words and good deeds. "The prophet' *, says Dr. Geiger, "qualifies his religion as 'unheard of words' (Yasna 31. i) or as a "mystery" (Y. 48. 3.) because he himself regards it as a religion quite distinct from the belief of the people hitherto. The revelation he announces is 74 THE PROPHET to him no longer a matter of sentiment, no longer a merely undefined presentiment and conception of the Godhead, but a matter of intellect, of spirit- ual perception and knowledge. This is of great importance, for there are probably not many re- ligions of so high antiquity in which this funda- mental doctrine, that religion is a knowledge or learning, a science of what is true, is so precisely declared as in the tenets of the Gathas. It is the unbelieving that are unknowing; on the contrary, the believing are learned because they have pene- trated into this knowledge." It may be incidentally mentioned here, as show- ing the parallel to this in the development of In- dian religious thought, that all through the Upan- ishad spiritual truth is termed with a repeated emphasis, vidya, knowledge, . which has for its opposite avidya, acceptance of error born of un- reason. The outer expression of truth reaches its white light of simplicity through its inner realization. True simplicity is the physiognomy of perfection. In the primitive stages of spiritual growth, when man is dimly aware of the mystery of the infinite in his life and the world, when he does not fully know the inward character of his relationship with this truth, his first feeling is either of dread, or of greed of gain. This drives him into wild exag- geration in worship, frenzied convulsions of cere- 75 THE RELIGION OF MAN monialism. But in Zarathustra's teachings, which are best reflected in his Gathas, we have hardly any mention of the ritualism of worship. Con- duct and its moral motives have there received almost the sole attention. The orthodox Persian form of worship in an- cient Iran included animal sacrifices and offering of haema to the daevas. That all these should be discountenanced by Zarathustra not only shows his courage, but the strength of his realization of the Supreme Being as spirit. We are told that it has been mentioned by Plutarch that "Zarathustra taught the Persians to sacrifice to Ahura Mazda, Vows and thanksgivings' ". The distance between faith in the efficiency of the bloodstained magi- cal rites, and cultivation of the moral and spiritual ideals as the true form of worship is immense. It is amazing to see how Zarathustra was the first among men who crossed this distance with a cer- tainty of realization which imparted such a fer- vour of faith to his life and his words. The truth which filled his mind was not a thing which he borrowed from books or received from teachers; he did not come to it by following a prescribed path of tradition, but it came to him as an illu- mination of his entire life, almost like a commu- nication of his universal self to his personal self, and he proclaimed this utmost immediacy of his knowledge when he said: 76 THE PROPHET When I conceived of Thee, O Mazda, as the very First and the Last, as the most Adorable One, as the Father of the Good Thought, as the Creator of Truth and Right, as the Lord Judge of our actions in life, then I made a place for Thee in my very eyes. Yasna 31,8 (Translation D. J. Irani). It was the direct stirring of his soul which made him say: Thus do I announce the Greatest of all ! I weave my songs of praise for him through Truth, helpful and beneficent of all that live. Let Ahura Mazda listen to them with his Holy Spirit, for the Good Mind instructed me to adore Him; by his wis- dom let Him teach me about what is best. Yasna 45.6 (Trans- lation D. J, Irani). The truth which is not reached through the ana- lytical process of reasoning and does not depend for proof on some corroboration of outward facts or the prevalent faith and practice of the people the truth which comes like an inspiration out of context with its surroundings brings with it an assurance that it has been sent from an inner source of divine wisdom, that the individual who has realized it is specially inspired and therefore has his responsibility as a direct medium of communi- cation of Divine Truth. As long as man deals with his God as the dis- penser of benefits only to those of His worshippers who know the secret of propitiating Him, he tries to keep Him for his own self or for the tribe to which he belongs* But directly the moral nature, 77 THE RELIGION OF MAN that is to say, the humanity of God is apprehended, man realizes his divine self in his religion, his God is no longer an outsider to be propitiated for a special concession. The consciousness of God transcends the limitations of race and gathers to- gether all human beings within one spiritual circle of union. Zarathustra was the first prophet who emancipated religion from the exclusive narrow- ness of the tribal God, the God of a chosen people, and offered it the universal Man, This is a great fact in the history of religion. The Master said, when the enlightenment came to him : Verily I believed Thee, O Ahura Mazda, to be the Supreme Benevolent Providence, when Sraosha came to me with the Good Mind, when first I received and became wise with your words. And though the task be difficult, though woe may come to me, I shall proclaim to all mankind Thy message, which Thou declarest to be the best. Yasna 43 (Translation D. J. Irani). He prays to Mazda : This I ask Thee, tell me truly, O Ahura, the religion that is best for all mankind, the religion, which based on truth, should prosper in all that is ours, the religion which establishes our actions in order and justice by the Divine songs of Perfect Piety, which has for its intelligent desire of desires, the desire for Thee, O Mazda* Yasna 44.10 (Translation D, J. Irani). With the undoubted assurance and hope of one who has got a direct vision of Truth he speaks to the world ; 78 THE PROPHET Hearken unto me, Ye who come from near and from far! Listen for I shall speak forth now; ponder well over all things, weigh my words with care and clear thought. Never shall the false teacher destroy this world for a second time, for his tongue stands mute, his creed exposed. Yasna 45.1 (Translation D. J. Irani), I think it can be said without doubt that such a high conception of religion, uttered in such a clear note of affirmation with a sure note of con- viction that it is a truth of the ultimate ideal of perfection which must be revealed to all humanity, even at the cost of martyrdom, is unique in the history of any religion belonging to such a remote dawn of civilization. There was a time when, along with other Aryan peoples, the Persian also worshipped the elemental gods of Nature, whose favour was not to be won by any moral duty performed or service of love. That in fact was the crude beginning of the scien- tific spirit trying to unlock the hidden sources of power in nature. But through it all there must have been some current of deeper desire, which constantly contradicted the cult of power and in- dicated worlds of inner good, infinitely more precious than material gain. Its voice was not strong at first nor was it heeded by the majority of the people ; but its influences, like the life within the seed, were silently working. Then comes the great prophet; and in his life and mind the hidden fire of truth suddenly bursts 79 THE RELIGION OF MAN out into flame. The best in the people works for long obscure ages in hints and whispers till it finds its voice which can never again be silenced. For that voice becomes the voice of Man, no longer confined to a particular time or people. It works across intervals of silence and oblivion, depression and defeat, and comes out again with its conquer- ing call. It is a call to the fighter, the fighter against untruth, against all that lures away man's spirit from its high mission of freedom into the meshes of materialism. Zarathustra's voice is still a living voice, not alone a matter of academic interest for historical scholars who deal with the facts of the past; nor merely the guide of a small community of men in the daily details of their life. Rather, of all teach- ers Zarathustra was the first who addressed his words to all humanity, regardless of distance of space or time. He was not like a cave-dweller who, by some chance of friction, had lighted a lamp and, fearing lest it could not be shared with all, secured it with a miser's care for his own domestic use. But he was the watcher in the night, who stood on the lonely peak facing the East and broke out singing the paeans of light to the sleeping world when the sun came out on the brim of the horizon. The Sun of Truth is for all, he declared its light is to unite the far and the near. Such a message So THE PROPHET always arouses the antagonism of those whose habits have become nocturnal, whose vested in- terest is in the darkness. And there was a bitter fight in the lifetime of the prophet between his followers and the others who were addicted to the ceremonies that had tradition on their side, and not truth. We are told that "Zarathustra was descended from a kingly family", and also that the first con- verts to his doctrine were of the ruling caste. But the priesthood, "the Kavis and the Karapans, often succeeded in bringing the rulers over to their side". So we find that, in this fight, the princes of the land divided themselves into two opposite parties as we find in India in the Kurukshetra War. It has been a matter of supreme satisfaction to me to realize that the purification of faith which was the mission of the great teachers in both com- munities, in Persia and in India, followed a similar line. We have already seen how Zarathustra spir- itualized the meaning of sacrifice, which in former days consisted in external ritualism entailing bloodshed. The same thing we find in the Gita, in which the meaning of the word Yajna has been translated into a higher significance than it had in its crude form. According to the Gita, the deeds that are done solely for the sake of self fetter our soul; the 81 THE RELIGION OF MAN disinterested action, performed for the sake of the giving up of self, is the true sacrifice. For creation itself comes of the self-sacrifice of Brahma, which has no other purpose; and therefore, in our per- formance of the duty which is self-sacrificing, we realize the spirit of Brahma. The Ideal of Zoroastrian Persia is distinctly ethical. It sends its call to men to work together with the Eternal Spirit of Good in spreading and maintaining Kshathra, the kingdom of righteous- ness, against all attacks of evil. This ideal gives us our place as collaborators with God in distribu- ting his blessings over the world. Clear is this to the man of wisdom as to the man who care- fully thinks; He who upholds Truth with all the might of his power, He who upholds Truth the utmost in his words and deed, He, indeed, is Thy most valued helper, O Mazda Ahura! Ifasna 31.22 (Translation D. J. Irani) It is a fact of supreme moment to us that the human world is in an incessant state of war be- tween that which will save us and that which will drag us into the abyss of disaster. Our one hope lies in the fact that Ahura Mazda is on our side if we choose the right course. The active heroic aspect of this religion reflects the character of the people themselves, who later on spread conquests far and wide and built up great empires by the might of their sword. They 82 THE PROP HEX accepted this world in all seriousness. They had their zest in life and confidence in their own strength. They belonged to the western half of Asia and their great influence travelled through the neighbouring civilization of Judaea towards the Western Continent Their ideal was the ideal of the fighter. By force of will and deeds of sacri- fice they were to conquer haurvatat welfare in this world, and ameratat immortality in the other. This is the best ideal in the West, the great truth of fight. For paradise has to be gained through conquest. That sacred task is for the heroes, who are to take the right side in the battle, and the right weapons. There was a heroic period in Indian history, when this holy spirit of fight was invoked by the greatest poet of the Sanskrit Literature. It is not to be wondered at that his ideal of fight was simi- lar to the ideal that Zarathustra preached. The problem with which his poem starts is that para- dise has to be rescued by the hero from its invasion by evil beings. This is the eternal problem of man. The evil spirit is exultant and paradise is lost when Sati, the spirit of Sat (Reality), is dis- united from Siva, the Spirit of Goodness. The Real and the Good must meet in wedlock if the hero is to take his birth in order to save all that is true and beautiful. When the union was attempted through the agency of passion, the anger of God 83 THE RELIGION OF MAN was aroused and the result was a tragedy of dis- appointment At last, by purification through penance, the wedding was effected, the hero was born who fought against the forces of evil and paradise was regained. This is a poem of the ideal of the moral fight, whose first great prophet was Zarathustra. We must admit that this ideal has taken a stronger hold upon the life of man in the West than in India the West, where the vigour of life receives its fullest support from Nature and the excess of energy finds its delight in ceaseless activities. But everywhere in the world, the un- realized ideal is a force of disaster. It gathers its strength in secret even in the heart of prosperity, kills the soul first and then drives men to their utter ruin. When the aggressive activity of will, which naturally accompanies physical vigour, fails to accept the responsibility of its ideal, it breeds unappeasable greed for material gain, leads to unmeaning slavery of things, till amidst a raging conflagration of clashing interests the tower of am- bition topples down to the dust And for this, the prophetic voice of Zarathustra reminds us that all human activities must have an ideal goal, which is an end to itself, and therefore is peace, is immortality. It is the House of Songs, the realization of love, which comes through strenuous service of goodness. 84 THE PROPHET All the joys of life which Thou boldest, O Mazda, the joys that were, the joys that are, and the joys that shall be, Thou dost apportion all in Thy love for us. We, on the other hand, in the tropical East, who have no surplus of physical energy inevitably over- flowing in outer activities, also have our own ideal given to us. Our course is not so much through the constant readiness to fight in the battle of the good and evil, as through the inner concentration of mind, through pacifying the turbulence of desire, to reach that serenity of the infinite in our being which leads to the harmony in the all. Here, like- wise, the unrealized ideal pursues us with its malediction. As the activities of a vigorous vitality may become unmeaning, and thereupon smother the soul with a mere multiplicity of material, so the peace of the extinguished desire may become the peace of death ; and the inner world, in which we would dwell, become a world of incoherent dreams. The negative process of curbing desire and con- trolling passion is only for saving our energy from dissipation and directing it into its proper chan- nel. If the path of the channel we have chosen runs withinwards, it also must have its expression in action, not for any ulterior reward, but for the proving of its own truth. If the test of action is removed, if our realization grows purely sub j Ac- tive, then it may become like travelling in a desert 9s THE RELIGION OF MAN in the night, going round and round the same cir- cle, imagining all the while that we are following the straight path of purpose. This is why the prophet of the Gita in the first place says: Who so forsakes all desires and goeth onwards free from yearn- ings, selfless and without egoism, he goeth to peace. But he does not stop here, he adds : Surrendering all actions to me, with Thy thoughts resting on the Supreme Self, from hope and egoism freed, and of mental fever cured, engage in battle. Action there must be, fight we must have not the fight of passion and desire, or arrogant self- assertion, but of duty done in the presence of the Eternal, the disinterested fight of the serene soul that helps us in our union with the Supreme Being. In this, the teaching of Zarathustra, his sacred gospel of fight finds its unity. The end of the fight he preaches is in the House of Songs, in the symphony of spiritual union. He sings : Ye, who wish to be allied to the Good Mind, to be friend with Truth, Ye who desire to sustain the Holy Cause, down with all anger and violence, away with all ill-will and strife! Such benevolent men, O Mazda, I shall take to the House of Songs ! The detailed facts of history, which are the battle- ground of the learned, are not my province. I am 86 THE PROP HEX a singer myself, and I am ever attracted by the strains that come forth from the House of Songs. When the streams of ideals that flow from the East and from the West mingle their murmur in some profound harmony of meaning it delights my soul. In the realm of material property men are jeal- ously proud of their possessions and their exclusive rights. Unfortunately there are quarrelsome men who bring that pride of acquisition, the worldli- ness of sectarianism, even into the region of spirit- ual truth. Would it be sane, if the man in China should lay claim to the ownership of the sun be- cause he can prove the earlier sunrise in his own country? For myself, I feel proud whenever I find that the best in the world have their fundamental agreement. It is their function to unite and to dissuade the small from bristling-up, like prickly shrubs, in the pride of the minute points of their differences, only to hurt one another. 87 CHAPTER VI THE VISION I HOPE that my readers have understood, as they have read these pages, that I am neither a scholar nor a philosopher. They should not expect from me fruits gathered from a wide field of studies or wealth brought by a mind trained in the difficult exploration of knowledge. Fortunately for me the subject of religion gains in interest and value by the experience of the individuals who earnestly believe in its truth. This is my apology for offer- ing a part of the story of my life which has always realized its religion through a process of growth and not by the help of inheritance or importation. Man has made the entire geography of the earth his own, ignoring the boundaries of climate ; for, unlike the lion and the reindeer, he has the power to create his special skin and temperature, includ- ing his unscrupulous power of borrowing the skins of the indigenous inhabitants and misappropriat- ing their fats. His kingdom is also continually extending in time through a great surplus in his power of mem- ory, to which is linked his immense facility of bor- 88 V1OJ.V/JN rowing the treasure of the past from all quarters of the world. He dwells in a universe of history, in an environment of continuous remembrance. The animal occupies time only through the multi- plication of its own race, but man through the memorials of his mind, raised along the pilgrim- age of progress. The stupendousness of his knowl- edge and wisdom is due to their roots spreading into and drawing sap from the far-reaching area of history. Man has his other dwelling place in the realm of inner realization, in the element of an imma- terial value. This is a world where from the sub- terranean soil of his mind his consciousness often, like a seed, unexpectedly sends up sprouts into the heart of a luminous freedom, and the individual is made to realize his truth in the universal Man. I hope it may prove of interest if I give an account of my own personal experience of a sudden spir- itual outburst from within me which is like the underground current of a perennial stream unex- pectedly welling up on the surface. I was born in a family which, at that time, was earnestly developing a monotheistic religion based upon the philosophy of the Upanishad, Somehow my mind at first remained coldly aloof, absolutely uninfluenced by any religion whatever. It was through an idiosyncrasy of my temperament thai I refused to accept any religious teaching merelj 89 THE RELIGION" OF MAN because people in my surroundings believed it to be true. I could not persuade myself to imagine that I had a religion because everybody whom I might trust believed in its value. Thus my mind was brought up in an atmos- phere of freedom freedom from the dominance of any creed that had its sanction in the definite authority of some scripture, or in the teaching of some organized body of worshippers. And, there- fore, the man who questions me has every right to distrust my vision and reject my testimony. In such a case, the authority of some particular book venerated by a large number of men may have greater weight than the assertion of an individ- ual, and therefore I never claim any right to preach. When I look back upon those days, it seems to me that unconsciously I followed the path of my Vedic ancestors, and was inspired by the tropical sky with its suggestion of an uttermost Beyond. The wonder of the gathering clouds hanging heavy with the unshed rain, of the sudden sweep of storms arousing vehement gestures along the line of coconut trees, the fierce loneliness of the blaz- ing summer noon, the silent sunrise behind the dewy veil of autumn morning, kept my mind with the intimacy of a pervasive companionship. Then came my initiation ceremony of Brahmin- hood when the gayatri verse of meditation was 90 THE VISION given to me, whose meaning, according to the ex- planation I had, runs as follows: "Let me contemplate the adorable splendour of Him who created the earth, the air and the starry spheres, and sends the power of comprehension within our minds." This produced a sense of serene exaltation in me, the daily meditation upon the infinite being which unites in one stream of creation my mind and the outer world. Though to-day I find no difficulty in realizing this being as an infinite personality in whom the subject and object are perfectly reconciled, at that time the idea to me was vague. Therefore the current of feeling that it aroused in my mind was indefinite, like the circulation of air an atmosphere which needed a definite world to complete itself and satisfy me. For it is evident that my religion is a poet's religion, and neither that of an orthodox man of piety nor that of a theologian. Its touch comes to me through the same unseen and trackless channel as does the in- spiration of my songs. My religious life has fol- lowed the same mysterious line of growth as has my poetical life. Somehow they are wedded to each other and, though their betrothal had a long period of ceremony, it was kept secret to me. When I was eighteen, a sudden spring breeze of religious experience for the first time came to my life and passed away leaving in my memory a 91 THE RELIGION OF MAN direct message of spiritual reality. One day while I stood watching at early dawn the sun sending out its rays from behind the trees, I suddenly felt as if some ancient mist had in a moment lifted from my sight, and the morning light on the face of the world revealed an inner radiance of joy. The invisible screen of the commonplace was re- moved from all things and all men, and their ulti- mate significance was intensified in my mind ; and this is the definition of beauty. That which was memorable in this experience was its human mes- sage, the sudden expansion of my consciousness in the super-personal world of man. The poem I wrote on the first day of my surprise was named "The Awakening of the Waterfall". The water- fall, whose spirit lay dormant in its ice-bound iso- lation, was touched by the sun and, bursting in a cataract of freedom, it found its finality in an unending sacrifice, in a continual union with the sea. After four days the vision passed away, and the lid hung down upon my inner sight In the dark, the world once again put on its disguise of the obscurity of an ordinary fact When I grew older and was employed in a responsible work in some villages I took my place in a neighbourhood where the current of time ran slow and joys and sorrows had their simple and elemental shades and lights. The day which had its special significance for me came with all its 92 THE VISION drifting trivialities of the commonplace life. The ordinary work of my morning had come to its close and before going to take my bath I stood for a moment at my window, overlooking a market place on the bank of a dry river bed, welcoming the first flood of rain along its channel. Suddenly I became conscious of a stirring of soul within me. My world of experience in a moment seemed to become lighted, and facts that were detached and dim found a great unity of meaning. The feel- ing which I had was like that which a man, grop- ing through a fog without knowing his destination, might feel when he suddenly discovers that he stands before his own house. I still remember the day in my childhood when I was made to struggle across my lessons in a first primer, strewn with isolated words smothered under the burden of spelling. The morning hour appeared to me like a once-illumined page, grown dusty and faded, discoloured into irrelevant marks, smudges and gaps, wearisome in its moth-eaten meaninglessness. Suddenly I came to a rhymed sentence of combined words, which may be trans- lated thus "It rains, the leaves tremble". At once I came to a world wherein I recovered my full meaning. My mind touched the creative realm of expression, and at that moment I was no longer a mere student with his mind muffled by spelling lessons, enclosed by classroom. The rhythmic pic- 93 THE RELIGION OF MAN ture of the tremulous leaves beaten by the rain opened before my mind the world which does not merely carry information, but a harmony with my being. The unmeaning fragments lost their indi- vidual isolation and my mind revelled in the unity of a vision. In a similar manner, on that morning in the village, the facts of my life suddenly ap- peared to me in a luminous unity of truth. All things that had seemed like vagrant waves were revealed to my mind in relation to a boundless sea. I felt sure that some Being who comprehended me and my world was seeking his best expression in all my experiences, uniting them into an ever- widening individuality which is a spiritual work of art. To this Being I was responsible ; for the creation in me is his as well as mine. It may be that it was the same creative Mind that is shaping the uni- verse to its eternal idea; but in me as a person it had one of its special centres of a personal relation- ship growing into a deepening consciousness. I had my sorrows that left their memory in a long burning track across my days, but I felt at that moment that in them I lent myself to a travail of creation that ever exceeded my own personal bounds like stars which in their individual fire- bursts are lighting the history of the universe. It gave me a great joy to feel in my life detachment at the idea of a mystery of a meeting of the two in 94 THE VISION a creative comradeship. I felt that I had found my religion at last, the religion of Man, in which the infinite became defined in humanity and came close to me so as to need my love and co-opera- tion. This idea of mine found at a later date its ex- pression in some of my poems addressed to what I called Jivan devata, the Lord of my life. Fully aware of my awkwardness in dealing with a for- eign language, with some hesitation I give a trans- lation, being sure that any evidence revealed through the self-recording instrument of poetry is more authentic than answers extorted through conscious questionings : Thou who art the innermost Spirit of my being, art thou pleased, Lord of my life? For I gave to thee my cup filled with all the pain and delight that the crushed grapes of my heart had surrendered, I wove with the rhythm of colours and songs the cover for thy bed, and with the molten gold of my desires I fashioned playthings for thy passing hours. I know not why thou chosest me for thy partner, Lord of my life ! Didst thou store my days and nights, my deeds and dreams for the alchemy of thy art, and string in the chain of thy music my songs of autumn and spring, and gather the flowers from my mature moments for thy crown? 95 THE RELIGION OF MAN I see thine eyes gazing at the dark of my heart, Lord of my life, I wonder if my failures and wrongs are forgiven. For many were my days without service and nights of f orgetf ulness ; futile were the flowers that faded in the shade not offered to thee. Often the tired strings of my lute slackened at the strain of thy tunes. And often at the ruin of wasted hours my desolate evenings were filled with tears. But have my days come to their end at last, Lord of my life, while my arms round thee grow limp, my kisses losing their truth? Then break up the meeting of this languid day. Renew the old in me in fresh forms of delight; and let the wedding come once again in a new ceremony of life. You will understand from this how unconsciously I had been travelling towards the realization which I stumbled upon in an idle moment on a day in July, when morning clouds thickened on the east- ern horizon and a caressing shadow lay on the tremulous bamboo branches, while an excited group of village boys was noisily dragging from the bank an old fishing boat ; and I cannot tell how at that moment an unexpected train of thoughts ran across my mind like a strange caravan carry- ing the wealth of an unknown kingdom. From my infancy I had a keen sensitiveness which kept my mind tingling with consciousness 96 THE VISION of the world around me, natural and human. We had a small garden attached to our house ; it was a fairyland to me, where miracles of beauty were of everyday occurrence. Almost every morning in the early hour of the dusk, I would run out from my bed in a great hurry to greet the first pink flush of the dawn through the shivering branches of the palm trees which stood in a line along the garden boundary, while the grass glistened as the dew-drops caught the earliest tremor of the morning breeze. The sky seemed to bring to me the call of a personal companionship, and all my heart my whole body in fact used to drink in at a draught the over- flowing light and peace of those silent hours. I was anxious never to miss a single morning, be- cause each one was precious to me, more precious than gold to the miser. I am certain that I felt a larger meaning of my own self when the barrier vanished between me and what was beyond myself. I had been blessed with that sense of wonder which gives a child his right of entry into the treasure house of mystery in the depth of exist- ence. My studies in the school I neglected, because they rudely dismembered me from the context of my world and I felt miserable, like a caged rabbit in a biological institute. This, perhaps, will ex- plain the meaning of my religion. This world was living to me, intimately close to my life, perme- 97 THE RELIGION OF MAN ated by a subtle touch of kinship which enhanced the value of my own being. It is true that this world also has its impersonal aspect of truth which is pursued by the man of impersonal science. The father has his personal relationship with his son ; but as a doctor he may detach the fact of a son from that relationship and let the child become an abstraction to him, only a living body with its physiological functions. It cannot be said that if through the constant pursuit of his vocations he altogether discards the personal element in his relation to his son he reaches a greater truth as a doctor than he does as a father. The scientific knowledge of his son is information about a fact, and not the realization of a truth. In his intimate feeling for his son he touches an ulti- mate truth the truth of relationship, the truth of a harmony in the universe, the fundamental principle of creation. It is not merely the number of protons and electrons which represents the truth of an element; it is the mystery of their relation- ship which cannot be analysed. We are made con- scious of this truth of relationship immediately within us in our love, in our joy; and from this experience of ours we have the right to say that the Supreme One, who relates all things, compre- hends the universe, is all love the love that is the highest truth being the most perfect relationship. 98 THE VISION I still remember the shock of repulsion I re- ceived as a child when some medical student brought to me a piece of a human windpipe and tried to excite my admiration for its structure. He tried to convince me that it was the source of the beautiful human voice. But I could not bear the artisan to occupy the throne that was for the artist who concealed the machinery and revealed the creation in its ineffable unity. God does not care to keep exposed the record of his power written in geological inscriptions, but he is proudly glad of the expression of beauty which he spreads on the green grass, in the flowers, in the play of the col- ours on the clouds, in the murmuring music of run- ning water. I had a vague notion as to who or what it was that touched my heart's chords, like the infant which does not know its mother's name, or who or what she is. The feeling which I always had was a deep satisfaction of personality that flowed into my nature through living channels of communica- tion from all sides. I am afraid that the scientist may remind me that to lose sight of the distinction between life and non-life, the human and the non-human, is a sign of the primitive mind. While admitting it, let me hope that it is not an utter condemnation, but rather the contrary. It may be a true instinct 99 THE RELIGION OF MAN of Science itself, an instinctive logic, which makes the primitive mind think that humanity has be- come possible as a fact only because of a universal human truth which has harmony with its reason, with its will. In the details of our universe there are some differences that may be described as non-human, but not in their essence. The bones are different from the muscles, but they are organi- cally one in the body. Our feeling of joy, our imagination, realizes a profound organic unity with the universe comprehended by the human mind. Without minimizing the differences that are in detailed manifestations, there is nothing wrong in trusting the mind, which is occasionally made intensely conscious of an all-pervading personality answering to the personality of man. The details of reality must be studied in their differences by Science, but it can never know the character of the grand unity of relationship per- vading it, which can only be realized immediately by the human spirit. And therefore it is the primal imagination of man the imagination which is fresh and immediate in its experiences that exclaims in a poet's verse: Wisdom and spirit of the universe! Thou soul, that art the eternity of thought, And giv'st to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion. 100 THE VISION And in another poet's words it speaks of That light whose smile kindles the universe, That Beauty in which all things work and move. The theologian may follow the scientist and shake his head and say that all that I have written is pantheism. But let us not indulge in an idolatry of name and dethrone living truth in its favour. When I say that I am a man, it is implied by that word that there is such a thing as a general idea of Man which persistently manifests itself in every particular human being, who is different from all other individuals. If we lazily label such a belief as "pananthropy" and divert our thoughts from its mysteriousness by such a title it does not help us much. Let me assert my faith by saying that this world, consisting of what we call animate and inanimate things, has found its culmination in man, its best expression. Man, as a creation, repre- sents the Creator, and this is why of all creatures it has been possible for him to comprehend this world in his knowledge and in his feeling and in his imagination, to realize in his individual spirit a union with a Spirit that is everywhere. There is an illustration that I have made use of in which I supposed that a stranger from some other planet has paid a visit to our earth and hap- pens to hear the sound of a human voice on the gramophone. All that is obvious to him and most IOI THE RELIGION OF MAN seemingly active, is the revolving disc. He is un- able to discover the personal truth that lies behind, and so might accept the impersonal scientific fact of the disc as final the fact that could be touched and measured. He would wonder how it could be possible for a machine to speak to the soul. Then, if in pursuing the mystery, he should suddenly come to the heart of the music through a meeting with the composer, he would at once understand the meaning of that music as a personal communi- cation. That which merely gives us information can be explained in terms of measurement, but that which gives us joy cannot be explained by the facts of a mere grouping of atoms and molecules. Some- where in the arrangement of this world there seems to be a great concern about giving us delight, which shows that, in the universe, over and above the meaning of matter and forces, there is a mes- sage conveyed through the magic touch of person- ality. This touch cannot be analysed, it can only be felt. We cannot prove it any more than the man from the other planet could prove to the sat- isfaction of his fellows the personality which re- mained invisible, but which, through the machin- ery, spoke direct to the heart Is it merely because the rose is round and pink that it gives me more satisfaction than the gold which could buy me the necessities of life, or any 102 THE VISION number of slaves? One may, at the outset, deny the truth that a rose gives more delight than a piece of gold. But such an objector must remem- ber that I am not speaking of artificial values. If we had to cross a desert whose sand was made of gold, then the cruel glitter of these dead particles would become a terror for us, and the sight of a rose would bring to us the music of paradise. The final meaning of the delight which we find in a rose can never be in the roundness of its petals, just as the final meaning of the joy of music cannot be in a gramophone disc. Somehow we feel that through a rose the language of love reached our heart. Do we not carry a rose to our beloved because in it is already embodied a message which, unlike our language of words, cannot be analysed. Through this gift of a rose we utilize a universal language of joy for our own purposes of expres- sion. Fortunately for me a collection of old lyrical poems composed by the poets of the Vaishnava sect came to my hand when I was young. I became aware of some underlying idea deep in the obvious meaning of these love poems. I felt the joy of an explorer who suddenly discovers the key to the language lying hidden in the hieroglyphs which are beautiful in themselves. I was sure that these poets were speaking about the supreme Lover, whose touch we experience in all our relations of 103 THE RELIGION OF MAN love the love of nature's beauty, of the animal, the child, the comrade, the beloved, the love that illuminates our consciousness of reality. They sang of a love that ever flows through numerous obstacles between men and Man the Divine, the eternal relation which has the relationship of mutual dependence for a fulfilment that needs perfect union of individuals and the Universal. The Vaishnava poet sings of the Lover who has his flute which, with its different stops, gives out the varied notes of beauty and love that are in Nature and Man. These notes bring to us our message of invitation. They eternally urge us to come out from the seclusion of our self-centred life into the realm of love and truth. Are we deaf by nature, or is it that we have been deafened by the claims of the world, of self-seeking, by the clamorous noise of the market-place? We miss the voice of the Lover, and we fight, we rob, we ex- ploit the weak, we chuckle at our cleverness, when we can appropriate for our use what is due to others; we make our lives a desert by turning away from our world that stream of love which pours down from the blue sky and wells up from the bosom of the earth. In the region of Nature, by unlocking the secret doors of the workshop department, one may come to that dark hall where dwells the mechanic and help to attain usefulness, but through it one can 104 THE VISION never attain finality. Here is the storehouse of innumerable facts and, however necessary they may be, they have not the treasure of fulfilment in them. But the hall of union is there, where dwells the Lover in the heart of existence. When a man reaches it he at once realizes that he has come to Truth, to immortality, and he is glad with a glad- ness which is an end, and yet which has no end. Mere information about facts, mere discovery of power, belongs to the outside and not to the inner soul of things. Gladness is the one criterion of truth, and we know when we have touched Truth by the music it gives, by the joy of greeting it sends forth to the truth in us. That is the true foundation of all religions. It is not as ether waves that we receive light; the morning does not wait for some scientist for its introduction to us. In the same way we touch the infinite reality immedi- ately within us only when we perceive the pure truth of love or goodness, not through the explana- tions of theologians, not through the erudite dis- cussion of ethical doctrines. I have already made the confession that my religion is a poet's religion. All that I feel about it is from vision and not from knowledge. Frankly, I acknowledge that I cannot satisfactorily answer any questions about evil, or about what happens after death. Nevertheless, I am sure that there have come moments in my own experience when 105 THE RELIGION OF MAN my soul has touched the infinite and has become intensely conscious of it through the illumination of joy. It has been said in our Upanishad that our mind and our words come away baffled from the Supreme Truth, but he who knows truth through the immediate joy of his own soul is saved from all doubts and fears. In the night we stumble over things and become acutely conscious of their individual separateness. But the day reveals the greater unity which em- braces them. The man whose inner vision is bathed in an illumination of his consciousness at once realizes the spiritual unity reigning supreme over all differences. His mind no longer awk- wardly stumbles over individual facts of separate- ness in the human world, accepting them as final. He realizes that peace is in the inner harmony which dwells in truth and not in any outer adjust- ments. He knows that beauty carries an eternal assurance of our spiritual relationship to reality, which waits for its perfection in the response of our love. 106 CHAPTER VII THE MAN OF MY HEART AT the outburst of an experience which is unusual, such as happened to me in the beginning of my youth, the puzzled mind seeks its explanation in some settled foundation of that which is usual, trying to adjust an unexpected inner message to an organized belief which goes by the general name of a religion. And, therefore, I naturally was glad at that time of youth to accept from my father the post of secretary to a special section of the monotheistic church of which he was the leader. I took part in its services mainly by composing hymns which unconsciously took the many- thumbed impression of the orthodox mind, a com- posite smudge of tradition. Urged by my sense of duty I strenuously persuaded myself to think that my new mental attitude was in harmony with that of the members of our association, although I con- stantly stumbled upon obstacles and felt con- straints that hurt me to the quick. At last I came to discover that in my conduct I was not strictly loyal to my religion, but only to the religious institution. This latter represented an artificial average, with its standard of truth at 107 THE RELIGION OF MAN its static minimum, jealous of any vital growth that exceeded its limits. I have my conviction that in religion, and also in the arts, that which is com- mon to a group is not important Indeed, very often it is a contagion of mutual imitation. After a long struggle with the feeling that I was using a mask to hide the living face of truth, I gave up my connection with our church. About this time, one day I chanced to hear a song from a beggar belonging to the Baiil * sect of Bengal We have in the modern Indian Re- ligion deities of different names, forms and mythol- ogy, some Vedic and others aboriginal. They have their special sectarian idioms and associations that give emotional satisfaction to those who are accustomed to their hypnotic influences. Some of them may have their aesthetic value to me and others philosophical significance overcumbered by exuberant distraction of legendary myths. But what struck me in this simple song was a religious ex- pression that was neither grossly concrete, full of crude details, nor metaphysical in its rarified trans- cendentalism. At the same time it was alive with an emotional sincerity. It spoke of an intense yearning of the heart for the divine which is in Man and not in the temple, or scriptures, in images and symbols. The worshipper addresses his songs to the Man the ideal, and says: 1 See Appendix I. 108 THE MAN OF MY HEART Temples and mosques obstruct thy path, and I fail to hear thy call or to move, when the teachers and priest angrily crowd round me. He does not follow any tradition of ceremony, but only believes in love. According to him Love is the magic stone, that transmutes by its touch greed into sacrifice. He goes on to say: For the sake of this love heaven longs to become earth and gods to become man. Since then I have often tried to meet these people, and sought to understand them through their songs, which are their only form of worship. One is often surprised to find in many of these verses a striking originality of sentiment and diction; for, at their best, they are spontaneously individual in their expressions. One such song is a hymn to the Ever Young. It exclaims: O my flower buds, we worship the Young ; for the Young is the source of the holy Ganges of life ; from the Young flows the supreme bliss. And it says: We never offer ripe corn in the service of the Young, nor fruit, nor seed, but only the lotus bud which is of our own mind. The young hour of the day, the morning, is our time for the worship of Him. from whose contemplation has sprung the Universe* 109 THE RELIGION OF MAN It calls the Spirit of the Young the Brahma Kamal, "the infinite lotus". For it is something which has perfection in its heart and yet ever grows and unfolds its petals. There have been men in India who never wrote learned texts about the religion of Man but had an overpowering desire and practical training for its attainment They bore in their life the testi- mony of their intimacy with the Person who is in all persons, of Man the formless in the individual forms of men. Rajjab, a poet-saint of medieval India, says of Man: God-man (nara-narayand) is thy definition, it is not a delusion but truth. In thee the infinite seeks the finite, the perfect knowl- edge seeks love, and when the form and the Formless (the indi- vidual and the universal) are united love is fulfilled in devotion. Ravidas, another poet of the same age, sings: Thou seest me, O Divine Man (narahari}> and I see thee, and our love becomes mutual. Of this God-man a village poet of Bengal says: He is within us, an unfathomable reality. We know him when we unlock our own self and meet in a true love with all others. A brother poet of his says: Man seeks the man in me and I lose myself and run out. And another singer sings of the Ideal Man, and says: no THE MAN OF MY HEART How could the scripture know the meaning of the Lord who has his play in the world of human forms? Listen, O brother man (declares Chandidas), the truth of man is the highest truth, there is no other truth above it. All these are proofs of a direct perception of humanity as an objective truth that rouses a pro- found feeling of longing and love. This is very unlike what we find in the intellectual cult of humanity, which is like a body that has tragically lost itself in the purgatory of shadows. Wordsworth says: We live by admiration, hope and love, And ever as these are well and wisely fixed In dignity of being we ascend. It is for dignity of being that we aspire through the expansion of our consciousness in a great real- ity of man to which we belong. We realize it through admiration and love, through hope that soars beyond the actual, beyond our own span of life into an endless time wherein we live the life of all men. This is the infinite perspective of human per- sonality where man finds his religion. Science may include in its field of knowledge the starry world and the world beyond it; philosophy may try to find some universal principle which is at the root of all things, but religion inevitably concentrates itself on humanity, which illumines our reason, inspires our wisdom, stimulates our love, claims in THE RELIGION OF MAN our intelligent service. There is an impersonal idea, which we call law, discoverable by an imper- sonal logic in its pursuit of the fathomless depth of the hydrogen atom and the distant virgin worlds clothed in eddying fire. But as the physiology of our beloved is not our beloved, so this impersonal law is not our God, the Pitritamah pitrinam, the Father who is ultimate in all fathers and mothers, of him we cannot say: Tad viddhi pranipatena pariprasnena sevaya- ( Realize him by obeisance, by the desire to know, by service ) For this can only be relevant to the God who is God and man at the same time; and if this faith be blamed for being anthropomorphic, then Man is to be blamed for being Man, and the lo^er for loving his dear one as a person instead of as a principle of psychology. We can never go beyond Man in all that we know and feel, and a mendicant singer of Bengal has said: Our world is as it is in our comprehension; the thought and existence are commingled. Everything would be lost in uncon- sciousness if man were nought ; and when response comes to your own call you know the meaning of reality. According to him, what we call nature is not a philosophical abstraction, not cosmos, but what is revealed to man as nature. In fact it is included in himself and therefore there is a commingling of his mind with it, and in that he finds his <jwn 112 THE MAN OF MY HEART being. He is truly lessened in humanity if he can- not take it within him and through it feel the ful- ness of his own existence. His arts and literature are constantly giving expression to this intimate communion of man with his world- And the Vedic poet exclaims in his hymn to the sun : Thou who nourishest the earth, who walkest alone, O Sun, withdraw thy rays, reveal thy exceeding beauty to me and let me realize that the Person who is there is the One who I am. It is for us to realize the Person who is in the heart of the All by the emancipated consciousness of our own personality. We know that the highest mission of science is to find the universe enveloped by the human comprehension ; to see man's visva- rupa, his great mental body, that touches the extreme verge of time and space, that includes the whole world within itself. The original Aryans who came to India had for their gods the deities of rain, wind, fire, the cosmic forces which singularly enough found no definite shapes in images. A time came when it was recog- nized that individually they had no separate, un- related power of their own, but there was one infinite source of power which was named Brahma. The cosmic divinity developed into an impersonal idea ; what was physical grew into a metaphysical abstraction, even as in modern science matter vanishes into mathematics. And Brahma, accord- 113 THE RELIGION OF MAN ing to those Indians, could neither be apprehended by mind nor described by words, even as matter in its ultimate analysis proves to be. However satisfactory that idea might be as the unknowable principle relating to itself all the phenomena that are non-personal, it left the per- sonal man in a void of negation. It cannot be gain- said that we can never realize things in this world from inside, we can but know how they appear to us. In fact, in all knowledge we know our own self in its condition of knowledge. And religion sought the highest value of man's existence in this self. For this is the only truth of which he is immediately conscious from within. And he said : Purushanna para kinchit sa kashthta sa para gatih (Nothing is greater than the Person; he is the supreme, he is the ultimate goal.) It is a village poet of East Bengal who preaches in a song the philosophical doctrine that the universe has its reality in its relation to the Person, which I translate in the following lines: The sky and the earth are born of mine own eyes, The hardness and softness, the cold and the heat are the products of mine own body, The sweet smell and the bad are of my own nostrils. This poet sings of the Eternal Person within him, coming out and appearing before his eyes, just as 114 THE MAN OF MY HEART the Vedic Rishi speaks of the Person, who is in him, dwelling also in the heart of the sun : I have seen the vision, the vision of mine own revealing itself, coming out from within me. In India, there are those whose endeavour is to merge completely their personal self in an imper- sonal entity which is without any quality or defini- tion ; to reach a condition wherein mind becomes perfectly blank, losing all its activities. Those who claim the right to speak about it say that this is the purest state of consciousness, it is all joy and with- out any object or content This is considered to be the ultimate end of Yoga, the cult of union, thus completely to identify one's being with the infinite Being who is beyond all thoughts and words. Such realization of transcendental consciousness accom- panied by a perfect sense of bliss is a time-honoured tradition in our country, carrying in it the positive evidence which cannot be denied by any negative argument of refutation. Without disputing its truth I maintain that it may be valuable as a great psychological experience but all the same it is not religion, even as the knowledge of the ultimate state of the atom is of no use to an artist who deals in images in which atoms have taken forms. A cer- tain condition of vacuum is needed for studying the state of things in its original purity, and the THE RELIGION OF MAN same may be said of the human spirit; but the original state is not necessarily the perfect state* The concrete form is a more perfect manifestation than the atom, and man is more perfect as a man than where he vanishes in an original indefinite- ness. This is why the Ishopanishat says : "Truth is both finite and infinite at the same time, it moves and yet moves not, it is in the distant, also in the near, it is within all objects and without them." This means that perfection as the ideal is im- movable, but in its aspect of the real it constantly grows towards completion, it moves. And I say of the Supreme Man, that he is infinite in his essence, he is finite in his manifestation in us the individu- als. As the Ishopanishat declares, a man must live his full term of life and work without greed, and thus realize himself in the Being who is in all beings. This means that he must reveal in his own personality the Supreme Person by his disinterested activities. CHAPTER VIII THE MUSIC MAKER A PARTICLE of sand would be nothing if it did not have its background in the whole physical world. This grain of sand is known in its context of the universe where we know all things through the testimony of our senses. When I say the grain of sand is f the whole physical world stands guarantee for the truth which is behind the appearance of the sand. But where is that guarantee of truth for this personality of mine that has the mysterious faculty of knowledge before which the particle of sand offers its credential of identification? It must be acknowledged that this personal self of mine also has for its truth a background of personality where knowledge, unlike that of other things, can only be immediate and self-revealed. What I mean by personality is a self-conscious principle of transcendental unity within man which comprehends all the details of facts that are indi- vidually his in knowledge and feeling, wish and will and work. In its negative aspect it is limited to the individual separateness, while in its posi- 117 THE RELIGION OF MAN tive aspect it ever extends itself in the infinite through the increase of its knowledge, love and activities. And for this reason the most human of all facts about us is that we do dream of the limitless un- attained the dream which gives character to what is attained. Of all creatures man lives in an end- less future. Our present is only a part of it. The ideas unborn, the unbodied spirits, tease our imagi- nation with an insistence which makes them more real to our mind than things around us. The atmos- phere of the future must always surround our present in order to make it life-bearing and sugges- tive of immortality. For he who has the healthy vigour of humanity in him has a strong instinctive faith that ideally he is limitless. That is why our greatest teachers claim from us a manifestation that touches the infinite. In this they pay homage to the Supreme Man. And our true worship lies in our indomitable courage to be great and thus to represent the human divine and ever to keep open the path of freedom towards the unattained. We Indians have bad the sad experience in our own part of the world how timid orthodoxy, its irrational repressions and its accumulation of dead centuries, dwarfs man through its idolatry of the past. Seated rigid in the centre of stagnation, it firmly ties the human spirit to the revolving wheels pf habit till f aintness overwhelms her- Like a slug- 1x8 THE MUSIC MAKER gish stream choked by rotting weeds, it is divided into shallow slimy pools that shroud their dumb- ness in a narcotic mist of stupor. This mechanical spirit of tradition is essentially materialistic, it is blindly pious but not spiritual, obsessed by phan- toms of unreason that haunt feeble minds in the ghastly disguise of religion. For our soul is shrunken when we allow foolish days to weave repeated patterns of unmeaning meshes round all departments of life. It becomes stunted when we have no object of profound interest, no prospect of heightened life, demanding clarity of mind and heroic attention to maintain and mature it. It is destroyed when we make fireworks of our animal passions for the enjoyment of their meteoric sensa- tions, recklessly reducing to ashes all that could have been saved for permanent illumination. This happens not only to mediocre individuals hugging fetters that keep them irresponsible or hungering for lurid unrealities, but to generations of insipid races that have lost all emphasis of significance in themselves, having missed their future. The continuous future is the domain of our mil- lennium, which is with us more truly than what we see in our history in fragments of the present. It is in our dream. It is in the realm of the faith which creates perfection. We have seen the rec- ords of man's dreams of the millennium, the ideal reality cherished by forgotten races in their ad- 119 THE RELIGION OP MAN miration, hope and love manifested in the dignity of their being through some majesty in ideals and beauty in performance. While these races pass away one after another they leave great accom- plishments behind them carrying their claim to recognition as dreamers not so much as con- querors of earthly kingdoms, but as the designers of paradise. The poet gives us the best definition of man when he says: We are the music-makers, We are the dreamers of dreams. Our religious present for us the dreams of the ideal unity which is man himself -as he manifests the infinite. We suffer from the sense of sin, which is the sense of discord, when any disruptive passion tears gaps in our vision of the One in man, creat- ing isolation in our self from the universal humanity. The Upanishad says, r Ma gridah, "covet not". For coveting diverts attention from the infinite value of our personality to the temptation of materials. Our village poet sings: "Man will brightly flash into your sight, my heart, if you shut the door of desires." We have seen how primitive man was occupied with his physical needs, and thus restricted him- self to the present which is the time boundary of the animal; and he missed the urge of his con- 120 THE MUSIC MAKER sciousness to seek its emancipation in a world of ultimate human value. Modern civilization for the same reason seems to turn itself back to that primitive mentality. Our needs have multiplied so furiously fast that we have lost our leisure for the deeper realization of our self and our faith in it It means that we have lost our religion, the longing for the touch of the divine in man, the builder of the heaven, the music-maker, the dreamer of dreams. This has made it easy to tear into shreds our faith in the perfection of the human ideal, in its wholeness, as the fuller meaning of reality. No doubt it is won- derful that music contains a fact which has been analysed and measured, and which music shares in common with the braying of an ass or of a motor-car horn. But it is still more wonderful that music has a truth, which cannot be analysed into fractions; and there the difference between it and the bellowing impertinence of a motor-car horn is infinite. Men of our own times have analysed the human mind, its dreams, its spiritual aspirations, most often caught unawares in the shattered state of madness, disease and desultory dreams and they have found to their satisf action that these are composed of elemental animalities tangled into various knots. This may be an important discov- ery; but what is still more important to realize is the fact that by some miracle of creation man 121 THE RELIGION OF MAN infinitely transcends the component parts of his own character. Suppose that some psychological explorer sus- pects that man's devotion to his beloved has at bottom our primitive stomach's hankering for human flesh, we need not contradict him ; for what- ever may be its genealogy, its secret composition, the complete character of our love, in its perfect mingling of physical, mental and spiritual asso- ciations, is unique in its utter difference from can- nibalism. The truth underlying the possibility of such transmutation is the truth of our religion. A lotus has in common with a piece of rotten flesh the elements of carbon and hydrogen. In a state of dissolution there is no difference between them, but in a state of creation the difference is immense ; and it is that difference which really matters. We are told that some of our most sacred sentiments hold hidden in them instincts -contrary to what these sentiments profess to be. Such disclosures have the effect upon certain persons of the relief of a tension, even like the relaxation in death of the incessant strenuousness of life. We find in modern literature that something like a chuckle of an exultant disillusionment is becom- ing contagious, and the knights-errant of the cult of arson are abroad, setting fire to our time- honoured altars of worship, proclaiming that the images enshrined on them, even if beautiful, arc 122 THE MUSIC MAKER made of mud. They say that it has been found out that the appearances in human idealism are decep- tive, that the underlying mud is real. From such a point of view, the whole of creation may be said to be a gigantic deception, and the billions of re- volving electric specks that have the appearance of "you" or "me" should be condemned as bearers of false evidence. But whom do they seek to delude? If it be beings like ourselves who possess some inborn criterion of the real, then to them these very appearances in their integrity must represent reality, and not their component electric specks. For them the rose must be more satisfactory as an object than its constituent gases, which can be tortured to speak against the evident identity of the rose. The rose, even like the human sentiment of goodness, or ideal of beauty, belongs to the realm of creation, in which all its rebellious elements are reconciled in a perfect harmony. Because these elements in their simplicity yield themselves to our scrutiny, we in our pride are inclined to give them the best prizes as actors in that mystery-play, the rose. Such an analysis is really only giving a prize to our own detective cleverness. I repeat again that the sentiments and ideals which man in his process of self -creation has built up, should be recognized in their wholeness. In all our faculties or passions there is nothing which is 123 THE RELIGION OF MAN absolutely good or bad; they all are the constitu- ents of the great human personality. They are notes that are wrong when in wrong places ; our education is to make them into chords that may harmonize with the grand music of Man. The animal in the savage has been transformed into higher stages in the civilized man in other words has attained a truer consonance with Man the divine, not through any elimination of the original materials, but through a magical grouping of them, through the severe discipline of art, the discipline of curbing and stressing in proper places, establish- ing a balance of lights and shadows in the back- ground and foreground, and thus imparting a unique value to our personality in all its com- pleteness. So long as we have faith in this value, our energy is steadily sustained in its creative activity that reveals the eternal Man. This faith is helped on all sides by literature, arts, legends, symbols, cere- monials, by the remembrance of heroic souls who have personified it in themselves, Our religion is the inner principle that compre- hends these endeavours and expressions and dreams through which we approach Him in whose image we are made. To keep alive our faith in the reality of the ideal perfection is the function of civiliza- tion, which is mainly formed of sentiments and the images that represent that ideal. In other words, 124 THE MUSIC MAKER civilization is a creation of art, created for the objective realization of our vision of the spiritually perfect It is the product of the art of religion. We stop its course of conquest when we accept the cult of realism and forget that realism is the worst form of untruth, because it contains a minimum of truth. It is like preaching that only in the morgue can we comprehend the reality of the human body the body which has its perfect revelation when seen in life. All great human facts are surrounded by an immense atmosphere of expectation. They are never complete if we leave out from them what might be, what should be, what is not yet proven but profoundly felt, what points towards the im- mortal. This dwells in a perpetual surplus in the individual, that transcends all the desultory facts about him. The realism in Man is the animal in him, whose life is a mere duration of time; the human in him is his reality which has life everlasting for its back- ground. Rocks and crystals being complete defi- nitely in what they are, can keep as "mute insen- sate things" a kind of dumb dignity in their stol- idly limited realism ; while human facts grow un- seemly and diseased^ breeding germs of death, when divested of their creative ideal the ideal of Man the divine, The difference between the notes as mere facts of sound and music as a truth of ex- pression is immense. For music though it compre- 125 THE RELIGION OF MAN hends a limited number of notes yet represents the infinite. It is for man to produce the music of the spirit with all the notes which he has in his psy- chology and which, through inattention or per* versity, can easily be translated into a frightful noise. In music man is revealed and not in a noise. CHAPTER IX THE ARTIST THE fundamental desire of life is the desire to exist. It claims from us a vast amount of training and experience about the necessaries of livelihood. Yet it does not cost me much to confess that the food that I have taken, the dress that I wear, the house where I have my lodging, represent a stu- pendous knowledge, practice and organization which I helplessly lack; for I find that I am not altogether despised for such ignorance and ineffi- ciency. Those who read me seem fairly satisfied that I am nothing better than a poet or perhaps a philosopher which latter reputation I do not claim and dare not hold through the precarious help of misinformation. It is quite evident in spite of my deficiency that in human society I represent a vocation, which though superfluous has yet been held worthy of commendation. In fact, I am encouraged in my rhythmic futility by being offered moral and mate- rial incentives for its cultivation. If a foolish blackbird did not know how to seek its food, to build its nest, or to avoid Its enemies, but special- 127 THE RELIGION OF MAN ized in singing, its fellow creatures, urged by their own science of genetics, would dutifully allow it to starve and perish. That I am not treated in a similar fashion is the evidence of an immense dif- ference between the animal existence and the civil- ization of man. His great distinction dwells in the indefinite margin of life in him which affords a boundless background for his dreams and creations. And it is in this realm of freedom that he realizes his divine dignity, his great human truth, and is pleased when I as a poet sing victory to him, to Man the self-revealer, who goes on exploring ages of creation to find himself in perfection. Reality, in all its manifestations, reveals itself in the emotional and imaginative background of our mind. We know it, not because we can think of it, but because we directly feel it. And there- fore, even if rejected by the logical mind, it is not banished from our consciousness. As an incident it may be beneficial or injurious, but as a revelation its value lies in the fact that it offers us an experi- ence through emotion or imagination ; we feel our- selves in a special field of realization. This feeling itself is delightful when it is not accompanied by any great physical or moral risk, we love to feel even fear or sorrow if it is detached from all prac- tical consequences. This is the reason of our enjoy- ment of tragic dramas, in which the feeling of pain rouses our consciousness to a white heat of intensity. 128 THE ARTIST The reality of my own self is immediate and indubitable to me. Whatever else affects me in a like manner is real for myself, and it inevitably attracts and occupies my attention for its own sake, blends itself with my personality, making it richer and larger and causing it delight. My friend may not be beautiful, useful, rich or great, but he is real to me ; in him I feel my own extension and my joy. The consciousness of the real within me seeks for its own corroboration the touch of the Real outside me. When it fails the self in me is de- pressed. When our surroundings are monotonous and insignificant, having no emotional reaction upon our mind, we become vague to ourselves. For we are like pictures, whose reality is helped by the background if it is sympathetic. The punish- ment we suffer in solitary confinement consists in the obstruction to the relationship between the world of reality and the real in ourselves, causing the latter to become indistinct in a haze of inactive imagination: our personality is blurred, we miss the companionship of our own being through the diminution of our self. The world of our knowl- edge is enlarged for us through the extension of our information ; the world of our personality grows in its area with a large and deeper experience of our personal self in our own universe through sym- pathy and imagination. As this world, that can be known through knowl- THE RELIGION OF MAN edge, is limited to us owing to our ignorance, so the world of personality, that can be realized by our own personal self, is also restricted by the limit of our sympathy and imagination. In the dim twilight of insensitiveness a large part of our world remains to us like a procession of nomadic shadows. According to the stages of our conscious- ness we have more or less been able to identify our- selves with this world, if not as a whole, at least in fragments; and our enjoyment dwells in that wherein we feel ourselves thus united. In art we express the delight of this unity by which this world is realized as humanly significant to us. I have my physical, chemical and biological self ; my knowledge of it extends through the extension of my knowledge of the physical, chemical and bio- logical world. I have my personal self, which has its communication with our feelings, sentiments and imaginations, which lends itself to be coloured by our desires and shaped by our imageries. Science urges us to occupy by our mind the immensity of the knowable world; our spiritual teacher enjoins us to comprehend by our soul the infinite Spirit which is in the depth of the moving and changing facts of the world ; the urging of our artistic nature is to realize the manifestation of personality in the world of appearance, the reality of existence which is in harmony with the real within us. Where this harmony is not deeply felt, 130 THE ARTIST there we are aliens and perpetually homesick. For man by nature is an artist; he never receives passively and accurately in his mind a physical representation of things around him. There goes on a continual adaptation, a transformation of facts into human imagery, through constant touches of his sentiments and imagination. The animal has the geography of its birthplace ; man has his coun- try, the geography of his personal self. The vision of it is not merely physical ; it has its artistic unity, it is a perpetual creation. In his country, his con- sciousness being unobstructed, man extends his relationship, which is of his own creative person- ality. In order to live efficiently man must know facts and their laws. In order to be happy he must establish harmonious relationship with all things with which he has dealings. Our creation is the modification of relationship. The great men who appear in our history remain in our mind not as a static fact but as a living his- torical image. The sublime suggestions of their lives become blended into a noble consistency in legends made living in the life of ages. Those men with whom we live we constantly modify in our minds, making them more real to us than they would be in a bare presentation. Men's ideal of womanhood and women's ideal of manliness are created by the imagination through a mental grouping of qualities and conducts according to THE RELIGION OF MAN our hopes and desires, and men and women con- sciously and unconsciously strive- towards its attain- ment. In fact, they reach a degree of reality for each other according to their success in adapting these respective ideals to their own nature. To say that these ideals are imaginary and therefore not true is wrong in man's case. His true life is in his own creation, which represents the infinity of man. He is naturally indifferent to things that merely exist; they must have some ideal value for him, and then only his consciousness fully recognizes them as real. Men are never true in their isolated self, and their imagination is the faculty that brings before their mind the vision of their own greater being. We can make truth ours by actively modulating its inter-relations. This is the work of art; for reality is not based in the substance of things but in the principal of relationship. Truth is the in- finite pursued by metaphysics; fact is the infinite pursued by science, while reality is the definition of the infinite which relates truth to the person. Reality is human ; it is what we are conscious of, by which we are affected, that which we express. When we are intensely aware of it, we are aware of ourselves and it gives us delight. We live in it, we always widen its limits. Our arts and literature represent this creative activity which is fundamen- tal in man. 132 TH E ARTIST But the mysterious fact about it is that though the individuals are separately seeking their ex- pression, their success is never individualistic in character. Men must find and feel and represent in all their creative works Man the Eternal, the creator. Their civilization is a continual discovery of the transcendental humanity. In whatever it fails it shows the failure of the artist, which is the failure in expression; and that civilization perishes in which the individual thwarts the revelation of the universal. For Reality is the truth of Man, who belongs to all times, and any individualistic madness of men against Man cannot thrive for long. Man is eager that his feeling for what is real to him must never die ; it must find an imperishable form. The consciousness of this self of mine is so intensely evident to me that it assumes the character of immortality, I cannot imagine that it ever has been or can be non-existent- In a similar manner all things that are real to me are for my- self eternal, and therefore worthy of a language that has a permanent meaning. We know indi- viduals who have the habit of inscribing their names on the walls of some majestic monument of architecture. It is a pathetic way of associating their own names with some works of art which belong to all times and to all men. Our hunger for reputation comes from our desire to make objec- 133 THE RELIGION OF MAN lively real that which is inwardly real to us. He who is inarticulate is insignificant, like a dark star that cannot prove itself. He ever waits for the artist to give him his fullest worth, not for any- thing specially excellent in him but for the won- derful fact that he is what he certainly is, that he carries in him the eternal mystery of being. A Chinese friend of mine while travelling with me in the streets of Peking suddenly exclaimed with a vehement enthusiasm: "Look, here is a donkey!" Surely it was an utterly ordinary don- key, like an indisputable truism, needing no special introduction from him. I was amused ; but it made me think. This animal is generally classified as having certain qualities that are not recommend- able and then hurriedly dismissed. It was obscured to me by an envelopment of commonplace associa- tions ; I was lazily certain that I knew it and there- fore I hardly saw it. But my friend, who pos- sessed the artist mind of China, did not treat it with a cheap knowledge but could see it afresh and recognize it as real. When I say real, I mean that it did not remain at the outskirt of his con- sciousness tied to a narrow definition, but it easily blended in his imagination, produced a vision, a special harmony of lines, colours and life and movement, and became intimately his own. The admission of a donkey into a drawing-room is vio- lently opposed ; yet there is no prohibition against 134 THE ARTIST its finding a place in a picture which may be ad- miringly displayed on the drawing-room wall. The only evidence of truth in art exists when it compels us to say "I see". A donkey we may pass by in Nature, but a donkey in art we must acknowl- edge even if it be a creature that disreputably ignores all its natural history responsibility, even if it resembles a mushroom in its head and a palm- leaf in its tail. In the Upanishad it is said in a parable that there are two birds sitting on the same bough, one of which feeds and the other looks on. This is an image of the mutual relationship of the infinite being and the finite self. The delight of the bird which looks on is great, for it is a pure and free delight. There are both of these birds in man him- self, the objective one with its business of life, the subjective one with its disinterested joy of vision. A child comes to me and commands me to tell her a story. I tell her of a tiger which is disgusted with the black stripes on its body and comes to my frightened servant demanding a piece of soap. The story gives my little audience immense pleasure, the pleasure of a vision, and her mind cries out, "It is here, for I see!" She knows a tiger in the book of natural history, but she can see the tiger in the story of mine. I am sure that even this child of five knows that it is an impossible tiger that is out on its untigerly THE RELIGION OF MAN quest of an absurd soap. The delightfulness of the tiger for her is not in its beauty, its usefulness, or its probability; but in the undoubted fact that she can see it in her mind with a greater clearness of vision than she can the walls around her the walls that brutally shout their evidence of certainty which is merely circumstantial. The tiger in the story is inevitable, it has the character of a com- plete image, which offers its testimonial of truth in itself. The listener's own mind is the eye-wit- ness, whose direct experience could not be contra- dicted. A tiger must be like every other tiger in order that it may have its place in a book of Science; there it must be a commonplace tiger to be at all tolerated. But in the story it is uncommon, it can never be reduplicated. We know a thing because it belongs to a class ; we see a thing because it belongs to itself. The tiger of the story com- pletely detached itself from all others of its kind and easily assumed a distinct individuality in the heart of the listener. The child could vividly see it, because by the help of her imagination it became her own tiger, one with herself, and this union of the subject and object gives us joy. Is it because there is no separation between them in truth, the separation being the Maya, which is creation? There come in our history occasions when the consciousness of a large multitude becomes sud- denly illumined with the recognition of a reality 136 THE ARTIST which rises far above the dull obviousness of daily happenings. The world becomes vivid; we see, we feel it with all our soul. Such an occasion there was when the voice of Buddha reached distant shores across physical and moral impediments. Then our life and our world found their profound meaning of reality in their relation to the central person who offered us emancipation of love. Men, in order to make this great human experience ever memorable, determined to do the impossible ; they made rocks to speak, stones to sing, caves to re- member; their cry of joy and hope took immortal forms along the hills and deserts, across barren solitudes and populous cities. A gigantic creative endeavour built up its triumph in stupendous carvings, defying obstacles that were overwhelm- ing. Such heroic activity over the greater part of the Eastern continents clearly answers the question : "What is Art?" It is the response of man's crea- tive soul to the call of the Real. Once there came a time, centuries ago in Bengal, when the divine love drama that has made its eternal playground in human souls was vividly revealed by a personality radiating its intimate realization of God. The mind of a whole people was stirred by a vision of the world as an instru- ment, through which sounded out invitation to the meeting of bliss. The ineffable mystery of God's love-call, taking shape in an endless panorama of THE RELIGION OF MAN colours and forms, inspired activity in music that overflowed the restrictions of classical convention- alism. Our Kirtan music of Bengal came to its being like a star flung up by a burning whirlpool of emotion in the heart of a whole people, and their consciousness was aflame with a sense of reality that must be adequately acknowledged. The question may be asked as to what place music occupies in my theory that art is for evoking in our mind the deep sense of reality in its richest aspect. Music is the most abstract of all the arts, as mathematics is in the region of science. In fact these two have a deep relationship with each other. Mathematics is the logic of numbers and dimen- sions. It is therefore employed as the basis of our scientific knowledge. When taken out of its con- crete associations and reduced to symbols, it re- veals its grand structural majesty, the inevitable- ness of its own perfect concord. Yet there is not merely a logic but also a magic of mathematics which works at the world of appearance, producing harmony the cadence of inter-relationship. This rhythm of harmony has been extracted from its usual concrete context, and exhibited through the medium of sound. And thus the pure essence of expressiveness in existence is offered in music. Ex- pressiveness finds the least resistance in sound, hav- ing freedom unencumbered by the burden of facts and thoughts. This gives it a power to arouse in 138 THE ARTIST us an intimate feeling of reality. In the pictorial, plastic and literary arts, the object and our feelings with regard to it are closely associated, like the rose and its perfumes. In music, the feeling dis- tilled in sound, becoming itself an independent object It assumes a tune-form which is definite, but a meaning which is undefinable, and yet which grips our mind with a sense of absolute truth. It is the magic of mathematics, the rhythm which is in the heart of all creation, which moves in the atom and, in its different measures, fashions gold and lead, the rose and the thorn, the sun and the planets. These are the dance-steps of numbers in the arena of time and space, which weave the maya, the patterns of appearance, the incessant flow of change, that ever is and is not It is the rhythm that churns up images from the vague and makes tangible what is elusive. This is may a, this is the art in creation, and art in literature, which is the magic of rhythm. And must we stop here? What we know as in- tellectual truth, is that also not a rhythm of the relationship of facts, that weaves the pattern of theory, and produces a sense of convincingness to a person who somehow feels sure that he knows the truth? We believe any fact to be true because of a harmony, a rhythm in reason, the process of which is analysable by the logic of mathematics, but not its result in me, just as we can count the 139 THE RELIGION OP MAN notes but cannot account for the music. The mys- tery is that I am convinced, and this also belongs to the may a of creation, whose one important, in- dispensable factor is this self-conscious personality that I represent And the Other? I believe it is also a self-con- scious personality, which has its eternal harmony with mine. 140 CHAPTER X MAN'S NATURE FROM the time when Man became truly conscious of his own self he also became conscious of a mys- terious spirit of unity which found its manifesta- tion through him in his society. It is a subtle medium of relationship between individuals, which is not for any utilitarian purpose but for its own ultimate truth, not a sum of arithmetic but a value of life. Somehow Man has felt that this compre- hensive spirit of unity has a divine character which could claim the sacrifice of all that is individual in him, that in it dwells his highest meaning trans- cending his limited self, representing his best freedom, Man's reverential loyalty to this spirit of unity is expressed in his religion ; it is symbolized in the names of his deities. That is why, in the begin- ning, his gods were tribal gods, even gods of the different communities belonging to the same tribe. With the extension of the consciousness of human unity his God became revealed to him as one and universal, proving that the truth of human unity is the truth of Man's God. In the Sanskrit language, religion goes by the name dharma, which in the derivative meaning im- THE RELIGION OF MAN plies the principle of relationship that holds us firm, and in its technical sense means the virtue of a thing, the essential quality of it; for instance, heat is the essential quality of fire, though in certain of its stages it may be absent Religion consists in the endeavour of men to cultivate and express those qualities which are in- herent in the nature of Man the Eternal, and to have faith in him. If these qualities were abso- lutely natural in individuals, religion could have no purpose. We begin our history with all the original promptings of our brute nature which helps us to fulfil those vital needs of ours that are immediate. But deeper within us there is a current of tendencies which runs in many ways in a con- trary direction, the life current of universal hu- manity. Religion has its function in reconciling the contradiction, by subordinating the brute na- ture to what we consider as the truth of Man. This is helped when our faith in the Eternal Man, whom we call by different names and imagine in different images, is made strong. The contradic- tion between the two natures in us is so great that men have willingly sacrificed their vital needs and courted death in order to express their dharma, which represents the truth of the Supreme Man. The vision of the Supreme Man is realized by our imagination, but not created by our mind. More real than individual men, he surpasses each 142 MAN'S NATURE of us in his permeating personality which is trans- cendental. The procession of his ideas, following his great purpose, is ever moving across obstruc- tive facts towards the perfected truth. We, the individuals, having our place in his composition, may or may not be in conscious harmony with his purpose, may even put obstacles in his path bring- ing down our doom upon ourselves. But we gain our true religion when we consciously co-operate with him, finding our exceeding joy through suf- fering and sacrifice. For through our own love for him we are made conscious of a great love that radiates from his being, who is Mahatma, the Supreme Spirit. The great Chinese sage Lao-tze has said : "One who may die, but will not perish, has life ever- lasting". It means that he lives in the life of the immortal Man. The urging for this life induces men to go through the struggle for a true survival. And it has been said in our scripture: "Through adharma (the negation of dharma] man prospers, gains what appears desirable, conquers enemies, but he perishes at the root." In this saying it is suggested that there is a life which is truer for men than their physical life which is transient. Our life gains what is called "value" in those of its aspects which represent eternal humanity in knowledge, in sympathy, in deeds, in character and creative works. And from the beginning of 143 THE RELIGION OF MAN our history we are seeking, often at the cost of everything else, the value for our life and not merely success; in other words, we are trying to realize in ourselves the immortal Man, so that we may die but not perish. This is the meaning of the utterance in the Upanishad: "Tarn vedyam p<uru- sham veda, yatha ma vo mrityuh parivyathah" "Realize the Person so that thou mayst not suffer from death." The meaning of these words is highly paradoxi- cal, and cannot be proved by our senses or our rea- son, and yet its influence is so strong in men that they have cast away all fear and greed, defied all the instincts that cling to the brute nature, for the sake of acknowledging and preserving a life which belongs to the Eternal Person. It is all the more significant because many of them do not believe in its reality, and yet are ready to fling away for it all that they believe to be final and the only positive fact. We call this ideal reality "spiritual". That word is vague; nevertheless, through the dim light which reaches us across the barriers of physical existence, we seem to have a stronger faith in the spiritual Man than in the physical ; and from the dimmest period of his history, Man has a feeling that the apparent facts of existence are not final ; that his supreme welfare depends upon his being able to remain in perfect relationship with some 144 MAN'S NATURE great mystery behind the veil, at the threshold of a larger life, which is for giving him a far higher value than a mere continuation of his physical life in the material world. Our physical body has its comprehensive reality in the physical world, which may be truly called our universal body, without which our individual body would miss its function. Our physical life realizes its growing meaning through a widening freedom in its relationship with the physical world, and this gives it a greater happiness than the mere pleasure of satisfied needs. We become aware of a profound meaning of our own self at the consciousness of some ideal of perfection, some truth beautiful or majestic which gives us an inner sense of completeness, a heightened sense of our own reality. This strengthens man's faith, effec- tive even if indefinite his faith in an objective ideal of perfection comprehending the human world. His vision of it has been beautiful or dis- torted, luminous or obscure, according to the stages of development that his consciousness has attained. But whatever may be the name and nature of his religious creed, man's ideal of human perfection has been based upon a bond of unity running through individuals culminating in a supreme Being who represents the eternal in human person- ality. In his civilization the perfect expression of this idea produces the wealth of truth which is for THE RELIGION OF MAN the revelation of Man and not merely for the suc- cess of life. But when this creative ideal which is dharma gives place to some overmastering pas- sion in a large body of men civilization bursts out in an explosive flame, like a star that has lighted its own funeral pyre of boisterous brilliancy. When I was a child I had the freedom to make my own toys out of trifles and create my own games from imagination. In my happiness my playmates had their full share, in fact the complete enjoy- ment of my games depended upon their taking part in them. One day, in this paradise of our child- hood, entered the temptation from the market world of the adult. A toy brought from an English shop was given to one of our companions; it was perfect, it was big and wonderfully life-like. He became proud of the toy and less mindful of the game ; he kept that expensive thing carefully away from us, glorying in his exclusive possession of it, feeling himself superior to his playmates whose toys were cheap. I am sure if he could use the modern language of history he would say that he was more civilized than ourselves to the extent of his owning that ridiculously perfect toy. One thing he failed to realize in his excitement a fact which at the moment seemed to him insig- nificant that this temptation obscured something a great deal more perfect than his toy, the revela- tion of the perfect child which ever dwells in the 146 MAN'S NATURE heart of man, in other words, the dharma of the child. The toy merely expressed his wealth but not himself, not the child's creative spirit, not the child's generous joy in his play, his identification of himself with others who were his compeers in his play world. Civilization is to express Man's dharma and not merely his cleverness, power and possession. Once there was an occasion for me to motor down to Calcutta from a place a hundred miles away. Something wrong with the mechanism made it necessary for us to have a repeated supply of water almost every half-hour. At the first village where we were compelled to stop, we asked the help of a man to find water for us. It proved quite a task for him, but when we offered him his re- ward, poor though he was, he refused to accept it In fifteen other villages the same thing happened. In a hot country, where travellers constantly need water and where the water supply grows scanty in summer, the villagers consider it their duty to offer water to those who need it They could easily make a business out of it, following the inexorable law of demand and supply. But the ideal which they consider to be their dharma has become one with their life. They do not claim any personal merit for possessing it. Lao-tze, speaking about the man who is truly good, says: "He quickens but owns not He acts THE RELIGION OF MAN but claims not. Merit he accomplishes but dwells not in it. Since he does not dwell in it, it will never leave him." That which is outside ourselves we can sell ; but that which is one with our being we cannot sell. This complete assimilation of truth belongs to the paradise of perfection ; it lies beyond the purgatory of self-consciousness. To have reached it proves a long process of civilization. To be able to take a considerable amount of trouble in order to supply water to a passing stranger and yet never to claim merit or reward for it seems absurdly and negligibly simple com- pared with the capacity to produce an amazing number of things per minute. A millionaire tour- ist, ready to corner the food market and grow rich by driving the whole world to the brink of starva- tion, is sure to feel too superior to notice this sim- ple thing while rushing through our villages at sixty miles an hour. Yes, it is simple, as simple as it is for a gentle- man to be a gentleman ; but that simplicity is the product of centuries of culture. That simplicity is difficult of imitation. In a few years' time, it might be possible for me to learn how to make holes in thousands of needles simultaneously by turning a wheel, but to be absolutely simple in one's hospitality to one's enemy, or to a stranger, requires generations of training. Simplicity takes no account of its own value, claims no wages, and 148 MAN'S NATURE therefore those who are enamoured of power do not realize that simplicity of spiritual expression is the highest product of civilization. A process of disintegration can kill this rare fruit of a higher life, as a whole race of birds pos- sessing some rare beauty can be made extinct by the vulgar power of avarice which has civilized weapons. This fact was clearly proved to me when I found that the only place where a price was expected for the water given to us was a suburb at Calcutta, where life was richer, the water supply easier and more abundant and where progress flowed in numerous channels in all directions. It shows that a harmony of character which the peo- ple once had was lost the harmony with the inner self which is greater in its universality than the self that gives prominence to its personal needs. The latter loses its feeling of beauty and generos- ity in its calculation of profit; for there it repre- sents exclusively itself and not the universal Man. There is an utterance in the Atharva Veda, wherein appears the question as to who it was that gave Man his music. Birds repeat their single notes, or a very simple combination of them, but Man builds his world of music and establishes ever new rhythmic relationship of notes. These reveal to him a universal mystery of creation which can- not be described. They bring to him the inner rhythm that transmutes facts into truths. They 149 THE RELIGION OF MAN give him pleasure not merely for his sense of hear- ing, but for his deeper being, which gains satisfac- tion in the ideal of perfect unity. Somehow man feels that truth finds its body in such perfection; and when he seeks for his own best revelation he seeks a medium which has the harmonious unity, as has music. Our impulse to give expression to Universal Man produces arts and literature. They in their cadence of lines, colours, movements, words, thoughts, express vastly more than what they appear to be on the surface. They open the win- dows of our mind to the eternal reality of man. They are the superfluity of wealth of which we claim our common inheritance whatever may be the country and time to which we belong; for they are inspired by the universal mind. And not merely in his arts, but in his own behaviour, the individual must for his excellence give emphasis to an ideal which has some value of truth that ideally belongs to all men. In other words, he should create a music of expression in his conduct and surround- ings which makes him represent the supreme Per- sonality. And civilization is the creation of the race, its expression of the universal Man. When I first visited Japan I had the opportu- nity of observing where the two parts of the human sphere strongly contrasted ; one, on which grew up the ancient continents of social ideal, standards of beauty, codes of personal behaviour ; and the other 150 MAN'S NATURE part, the fluid element, the perpetual current that carried wealth to its shores from all parts of the world. In half a century's time Japan has been able to make her own the mighty spirit of progress which suddenly burst upon her one morning in a storm of insult and menace. China also has had her rousing, when her self-respect was being knocked to pieces through series of helpless years, and I am sure she also will master before long the instrument which hurt her to the quick. But the ideals that imparted life and body to Japanese civilization had been nourished in the reverent hopes of countless generations through ages which were not primarily occupied in an incessant hunt for opportunities. They had those large tracts of leisure in them which are necessary for the blos- soming of Life's beauty and the ripening of her wisdom. On the one hand we can look upon the modern factories in Japan with their numerous mechanical organizations and engines of production and de- struction of the latest type. On the other hand, against them we may see some fragile vase, some small piece of silk, some architecture of sublime simplicity, some perfect lyric of bodily movement. We may also notice the Japanese expression of courtesy daily extracting from them a considerable amount of time and trouble. All these have come not from any accurate knowledge of things but THE RELIGION OF MAN from an intense consciousness of the value of real- ity which takes time for its fullness. What Japan reveals in her skilful manipulation of telegraphic wires and railway lines, of machines for manufac- turing things and for killing men, is more or less similar to what we see in other countries which have similar opportunity for training. But in her art of living, her pictures, her code of conduct, the various forms of beauty which her religious and social ideals assume Japan expresses her own per- sonality, her dharma, which, in order to be of any worth, must be unique and at the same time repre- sent Man of the Everlasting Life. Lao-tze has said: "Not knowing the eternal causes passions to rise ; and that is evil". He has also said: "Let us die, and yet not perish". For we die when we lose our physical life, we perish when we miss our humanity. And humanity is the dharma of human beings. What is evident in this world is the endless pro- cession of moving things; but what is to be real- ized, is the supreme human Truth by which the human world is permeated. We must never forget to-day that a mere move- ment is not valuable in itself, that it may be a sign of a dangerous form of inertia. We must be reminded that a great upheaval of spirit, a uni- versal realization of true dignity of man once caused by Buddha's teachings in India, started a 152 MAN'S NATURE movement for centuries which produced illumina- tion of literature, art, science and numerous efforts of public beneficence. This was a movement whose motive force was not some additional accession of knowledge or power or urging of some overwhelm- ing passion. It was an inspiration for freedom, the freedom which enables us to realize dharma, the truth of Eternal Man. Lao-tze in one of his utterances has said : "Those who have virtue (dharma) attend to their obliga- tions; those who have no virtue attend to their claims." Progress which is not related to an inner dharma, but to an attraction which is external, seeks to satisfy our endless claims. But civiliza- tion, which is an ideal, gives us the abundant power to renounce which is the power that realizes the infinite and inspires creation. This great Chinese sage has said : "To increase life is called a blessing." For, the increase of life realizes the eternal life and yet does not transcend the limits of life's unity* The mountain pine grows tall and great, its every inch maintains the rhythm of an inner balance, and therefore even in its seeming extravagance it has the reticent grace of self-control. The tree and its productions belong to the same vital system of cadence; the timber, the flowers, leaves and fruits are one with the tree ; their exuberance is not a malady of exaggeration, but a blessing. 153 CHAPTER XI THE MEETING OUR great prophets in all ages did truly realize in themselves the freedom of the soul in their con- sciousness of the spiritual kinship of man which is universal. And yet human races, owing to their external geographical condition, developed in their individual isolation a mentality that is ob- noxiously selfish. In their instinctive search for truth in religion either they dwarfed and deformed it in the mould of the primitive distortions of their own race-mind, or else they shut their God within temple walls and scriptural texts safely away, espe- cially from those departments of life where his absence gives easy access to devil-worship in vari- ous names and forms. They treated their God in the same way as in some forms of government the King is treated, who has traditional honour but no effective authority. The true meaning of God has remained vague in our minds only because our consciousness of the spiritual unity has been thwarted. One of the potent reasons for this our geo- graphical separation has now been nearly re- moved. Therefore the time has come when we 154 THE MEETING must, for the sake of truth and for the sake of that peace which is the harvest of truth, refuse to allow the idea of our God to remain indistinct behind unrealities of formal rites and theological misti- ness. The creature that lives its life screened and sheltered in a dark cave, finds its safety in the very narrowness of its own environment. The economi- cal providence of Nature curtails and tones down its sensibilities to such a limited necessity. But if these cave-walls were to become suddenly re- moved by some catastrophe, then either it must accept the doom of extinction, or carry on satis- factory negotiations with its wider surroundings. The races of mankind will never again be able to go back to their citadels of high-walled exclu- siveness. They are to-day exposed to one another, physically and intellectually. The shells, which have so long given them full security within their individual enclosures have been broken, and by no artificial process can they be mended again. So we have to accept this fact, even though we have not yet fully adapted our minds to this changed environment of publicity, even though through it we may have to run all the risks entailed by the wider expansion of life's freedom. A large part of our tradition is our code of adjustment which deals with the circumstances special to ourselves. These traditions, no doubt, 155 THE RELIGION OF MAN variegate the several racial personalities with their distinctive colours colours which have their poetry and also certain protective qualities suitable to each different environment We may come to acquire a strong love for our own colourful race speciality; but if that gives us fitness only for a very narrow world, then, at the slightest variation in our outward circumstances, we may have to pay for this love with our life itself. In the animal world there are numerous in- stances of complete race-suicide overtaking those who fondly clung to some advantage which later on became a hindrance in an altered dispensation. In fact the superiority of man is proved by his adaptability to extreme surprises of chance neither the torrid nor the frigid zone of his destiny offering him insuperable obstacles. The vastness of the race problem with which we are faced to-day will either compel us to train ourselves to moral fitness in the place of merely external efficiency, or the complications arising out of it will fetter all our movements and drag us to our death. 1 When our necessity becomes urgently insistent, when the resources that have sustained us so long are exhausted, then our spirit puts forth all its force to discover some other source of sustenance deeper and more permanent. This leads us from 1 See Appendix iy, 156 THE MEETING the exterior to the interior of our store-house* When muscle does not fully serve us, we come to awaken intellect to ask for its help and are then surprised to find in it a greater source of strength for us than physical power. When, in their turn, our intellectual gifts grow perverse, and only help to render our suicide gorgeous and exhaustive, our soul must seek an alliance with some power which is still deeper, yet further removed from the rude stupidity of muscle. Hitherto the cultivation of intense race egotism is the one thing that has found its fullest scope at this meeting of men. In no period of human his- tory has there been such an epidemic of moral perversity, such a universal churning up of jeal- ousy, greed, hatred and mutual suspicion. Every people, weak or strong, is constantly indulging in a violent dream of rendering itself thoroughly hurtful to others. In this galloping competition of hurtfulness, on the slope of a bottomless pit, no nation dares to stop or slow down. A scarlet fever with a raging temperature has attacked the entire body of mankind, and political passion has taken the place of creative personality in all departments of life. It is well known that when greed has for its object material gain then it can have no end. It is like the chasing of the horizon by a lunatic. To go on in a competition multiplying millions be- J57 THE RELIGION OF MAN comes a steeplechase of insensate futility that has obstacles but no goal. It has for its parallel the fight with material weapons weapons which must perpetually be multiplied, opening up new vistas of destruction and evoking new forms of insanity in the forging of frightfulness. Thus seems now to have commenced the last fatal ad- venture of drunken Passion riding on an intellect of prodigious power. To-day, more than ever before in our history, the aid of spiritual power is needed. Therefore, I believe its resources will surely be discovered in the hidden depths of our being. Pioneers will come to take up this adventure and suffer, and through suffering open out a path to that higher elevation of life in which lies our safety. Let me, in reference to this, give an instance from the history of Ancient India, There was a noble period in the early days of India when, to a band of dreamers, agriculture appeared as a great idea and not merely useful fact The heroic personality of Ramachandra, who espoused its cause, was sung in popular ballads, which in a later age forgot their original message and were crystallized into an epic merely extolling some domestic virtues of its hero. It is quite evident, however, from the legendary relics lying entombed in the story, that a new age ushered in by the spread of agriculture came as a divine voice to 158 those who could hear. It lifted up the primeval screen of the wilderness, brought the distant near, and broke down all barricades- Men who had formed separate and antagonistic groups in their sheltered seclusions were called upon to form a united people. In the Vedic verses, we find constant mention of conflicts between the original inhabitants of An- cient India and the colonists. There we find the expression of a spirit that was one of mutual dis- trust and a struggle in which was sought either wholesale slavery or extermination for the oppo- nents carried on in the manner of animals who live in the narrow segregation imposed upon them by their limited imagination and imperfect sym- pathy. This spirit would have continued in all its ferocious vigour of savagery had men failed tc find the opportunity for the discovery that man's highest truth was in the union of co-operation and love. The progress of agriculture was the first exter- nal step which led to such a discovery* It not onl} made a settled life possible for a large number oJ men living in close proximity, but it claimed foi its very purpose a life of peaceful co-operation The mere fact of such a sudden change from nomadic to an agricultural condition would no have benefited Man if he had not developed there with his spiritual sensitiveness to an inner principL 159 THE RELIGION OF MAN of truth. We can realize, from our reading of the Ramayana, the birth of idealism among a section of the Indian colonists of those days, before whose mind's eye was opened a vision of emancipation rich with the responsibility of a higher life. The epic represents in its ideal the change of the peo- ple's aspiration from the path of conquest to that of reconciliation. At the present time, as I have said, the human world has been overtaken by another vast change similar to that which had occurred in the epic age of India. So long men had been cultivating, almost with a religious fervour, that mentality which is the product of racial isolation; poets proclaimed, in a loud pitch of bragging, the exploits of their popular fighters; money-makers felt neither pity nor shame in the unscrupulous dexterity of their pocket-picking; diplomats scattered lies in order to reap concessions from the devastated future of their own victims. Suddenly the walls that sep- arated the different races are seen to have given way, and we find ourselves standing face to face. This is a great fact of epic significance. Man, suckled at the wolf's breast, sheltered in the brute's den, brought up in the prowling habit of depredation, suddenly discovers that he is Man, and that his true power lies in yielding up his brute power for the freedom of spirit. The God of humanity has arrived at the gates 160 THE ME ETING of the ruined temple of the tribe. Though he has not yet found his altar, I ask the men of simple faith, wherever they may be in the world, to bring their offering of sacrifice to him, and to believe that it is far better to be wise and worshipful than to be clever and supercilious. I ask them to claim the right of manhood to be friends of men, and not the right of a particular proud race or nation which may boast of the fatal quality of being the rulers of men. We should know for certain that such rulers will no longer be tolerated in the new world, as it basks in the open sunlight of mind and breathes life's free air. In the geological ages of the infant earth the demons of physical force had their full sway. The angry fire, the devouring flood, the fury of the storm, continually kicked the earth into frightful distortions. These titans have at last given way to the reign of life. Had there been spectators in those days who were clever and practical they would have wagered their last penny on these titans and would have waxed hilariously witty at the expense of the helpless living speck taking its stand in the arena of the wrestling giants. Only a dreamer could have then declared with unwaver- ing conviction that those titans were doomed be- cause of their very exaggeration, as are, to-day : those formidable qualities which, in the parlance of schoolboy science, are termed Nordic. 161 THE RELIGION OF MAN I ask once again, let us, the dreamers of the East and the West, keep our faith firm in the Life that creates and not in the Machine that constructs in the power that hides its force and blossoms in beauty, and not in the power that bares its arms and chuckles at its capacity to make itself obnox- ious. Let us know that the Machine is good when it helps, but not so when it exploits life; that Science is great when it destroys evil, but not when the two enter into unholy alliance. 162 CHAPTER XII THE TEACHER I HAVE already described how the nebulous idea of the divine essence condensed in my conscious- ness into a human realization. It is definite and finite at the same time, the Eternal Person mani- fested in all persons. It may be one of the numer- ous manifestations of God, the one in which is com- prehended Man and his Universe. But we can never know or imagine him as revealed in any other inconceivable universe so long as we remain human beings. And therefore, whatever character our theology may ascribe to him, in reality he is the infinite ideal of Man towards whom men move in their collective growth, with whom they seek their union of love as individuals, in whom they find their ideal of father, friend and beloved. I am sure that it was this idea of the divine Humanity unconsciously working in my mind, which compelled me to come out of the seclusion of my literary career and take my part in the world of practical activities. The solitary enjoyment of the infinite in meditation no longer satisfied me, and the texts which I used for my silent worship 163 THE RELIGION OF MAN lost their inspiration without my knowing it. I am sure I vaguely felt that my need was spiritual self- realization in the life of Man through some disin- terested service. This was the time when I founded an educational institution for our children in Ben- gal. It has a special character of its own which is still struggling to find its fulfilment; for it is a living temple that I have attempted to build for my divinity. In such a place education necessarily becomes the preparation for a complete life of man which can only become possible by living that life, through knowledge and service, enjoy- ment and creative work. The necessity was my own, for I felt impelled to come back into a ful- ness of truth from my exile in a dream-world. This brings to my mind the name of another poet of ancient India, Kalidasa, whose poem of Meg- haduta reverberates with the music of the sorrow of an exile. It was not the physical home-sickness from which the poet suffered, it was something far more fundamental, the home-sickness of the soul. We feel from almost all his works the oppressive at- mosphere of the kings' palaces of those days, dense with things of luxury, and also with the callousness of self-indulgence, albeit an atmos- phere of refined culture based on an extravagant civilization. The poet in the royal court lived in banishment 164 THE TEACHER banishment from the immediate presence of the eternal. He knew it was not merely his own ban- ishment, but that of the whole age to which he was born, the age that had gathered its wealth and missed its well-being, built its storehouse of things and lost its background of the great universe. What was the form in which his desire for perfec- tion persistently appeared in his drama and poems? It was the form of the tapovana, the forest-dwell- ing of the patriarchal community of ancient India. Those who are familiar with Sanskrit literature will know that this was not a colony of people with a primitive culture and mind. They were seekers after truth, for the sake of which they lived in an atmosphere of purity but not of Puritanism, of the simple life but not the life of self-mortification. They never advocated celibacy and they had con- stant intercommunication with other people who lived the life of worldly interest. Their aim and endeavour have briefly been suggested in the Upanishad in these lines : Te sarvagam sarvatah prapya dhira yuktatmanah sarvamevavisanti. (Those men of serene mind enter into the All, having realized and being in union everywhere with the omnipresent Spirit.) It was never a philosophy of renunciation of a negative character, but a realization completely comprehensive. How the tortured mind of Kali- 165 THE RELIGION OF MAN dasa in the prosperous city of Ujjaini, and the glorious period of Vikramaditya, closely pressed by all-obstructing things and all-devouring self, let his thoughts hover round the vision of a tapo- vana for his inspiration of life! It was not a deliberate copy but a natural coin- cidence that a poet of modern India also had the similar vision when he felt within him the misery of a spiritual banishment In the time of Kalidasa the people vividly believed in the ideal of tapo- vana, the forest colony, and there can be no doubt that even in the late age there were communities of men living in the heart of nature, not ascetics fiercely in love with a lingering suicide, but men of serene sanity who sought to realize the spiritual meaning of their life. And, therefore, when Kali- dasa sang of the tapovana, his poems found their immediate communion in the living faith of his hearers. But to-day the idea has lost any definite outline of reality, and has retreated into the far- away phantom-land of legend. Therefore the Sanskrit word in a modern poem would merely be poetical, its meaning judged by a literary stand- ard of appraisement. Then, again, the spirit of the forest-dwelling in the purity of its original shape would be a fantastic anachronism in the present age, and therefore, in order to be real, it must find its reincarnation under modern conditions of life. It must be the same in truth, but not identical in 166 THE TEACHER fact. It was this which made the modern poet's heart crave to compose his poem in a language of tangible words. But I must give the history in some detail. Civilized man has come far away from the orbit of his normal life. He has gradually formed and in- tensified some habits that are like those of the bees for adapting himself to his hive-world. We often see men suffering from ennui, from world-weari- ness, from a spirit of rebellion against their envi- ronment for no reasonable cause whatever. Social revolutions are constantly ushered in with a sui- cidal violence that has its origin in our dissatisfac- tion with our hive-wall arrangement the too exclusive enclosure that deprives us of the perspec- tive which is so much needed to give us the proper proportion in our art of living. All this is an indi- cation that man has not been moulded on the model of the bee and therefore he becomes recklessly anti-social when his freedom to be more than social is ignored. In our highly complex modern condition mechanical forces are organized with such effi- ciency that materials are produced that grow far in advance of man's selective and assimilative capacity to simplify them into harmony with his nature and needs. Such an intemperate overgrowth of things, like rank vegetation in the tropics, creates confinement 167 THE RELIGION OF MAN for man. The nest is simple, it has an early rela- tionship with the sky; the cage is complex and costly ; it is too much itself excommunicated from whatever lies outside. And man is building his cage, fast developing his parasitism on the monster Thing, which he allows to envelop him on all sides. He is always occupied in adapting himself to its dead angularities, limits himself to its limita- tions, and merely becomes a part of it. This may seem contrary to the doctrine of those who believe that a constant high pressure of living, produced by an artificially cultivated hunger of things, generates and feeds the energy that drives civilization upon its endless journey. Personally, I do not believe that this has ever been the principal driving force that has led to eminence any great civilization of which we know in history. I was born in what was once the metropolis of British India. My own ancestors came floating to Calcutta upon the earliest tide of the fluctuating fortune of the East India Company. The uncon- vential code of life for our family has been a confluence of three cultures, the Hindu, Moham- medan and British. My grandfather belonged to that period when the amplitude of dress and cour- tesy and a generous leisure were gradually being clipped and curtailed into Victorian manners, eco- nomical in time, in ceremonies, and in the dignity of personal appearance. [This will show that I 168 THE TEACHER came to a world in which the modern citybred spirit of progress had just begun driving its trium- phal car over the luscious green life of our ancient village community. Though the trampling process was almost complete round me, yet the wailing cry of the past was still lingering over the wreckage. Often I had listened to my eldest brother de- scribing with the poignancy of a hopeless regret a society hospitable, sweet with the old-world aroma of natural kindliness, full of simple faith and the ceremonial-poetry of life. But all this was a vanishing shadow behind me in the dusky golden haze of a twilight horizon the all-pervading fact around my boyhood being the modern city newly built by a company of western traders and the spirit of the modern time seeking its unaccustomed entrance into our life, stumbling against countless anomalies. But it always is a surprise to me to think that though this closed-up hardness of a city was my only experience of the world, yet my mind was constantly haunted by the home-sick fancies of an exile. It seems that the sub-conscious remem- brance of a primeval dwelling-place, where, in our ancestor's minds, were figured and voiced the mysteries of the inarticulate rocks, the rushing water and the dark whispers of the forest, was con- stantly stirring my blood with its call. Some shadow-haunting living reminiscence in me seemed 169 THE RELIGION OF MAN to ache for the pre-natal cradle and playground it shared with the primal life in the illimitable magic of the land, water and air. The shrill, thin cry of the high-flying kite in the blazing sun of the dazed Indian midday sent to a solitary boy the signal of a dumb distant kinship. The few coconut plants growing by the boundary wall of our house, like some war captives from an older army of invaders of this earth, spoke to me of the eternal compan- ionship which the great brotherhood of trees has ever offered to man. Looking back upon those moments of my boy- hood days, when all my mind seemed to float poised upon a large feeling of the sky, of the light, and to tingle with the brown earth in its glistening grass, I cannot help believing that my Indian ancestry had left deep in my being the legacy of its philosophy the philosophy which speaks of fulfilment through our harmony with all things. The founding of my school had its origin in the memory of that longing for the freedom of con- sciousness, which seems to go back beyond- the skyline of my birth. Freedom in the mere sense of independence has no content, and therefore no meaning. Perfect freedom lies in a perfect harmony of relationship, which we realize in this world not through our response to it in knowing, but in being. Objects of knowledge maintain an infinite distance from us 170 THE TEACHER are the knowers. For knowledge is not union. Therefore the further world of freedom awaits us there where we reach truth, not through feeling it by our senses or knowing it by our reason, but through the union of perfect sympathy. Children with the freshness of their senses come lirectly to the intimacy of this world. This is the 5rst great gift they have. They must accept it laked and simple and must never again lose their Dower of immediate communication with it. For 3ur perfection we have to be vitally savage and nentally civilized ; we should have the gift to be latural with nature and human with human society. My banished soul sitting in the civilized isolation of the town-life cried within me for the enlargement of the horizon of its comprehension. [ was like the torn-away line of a verse, always in i state of suspense, while the other line, with which it rhymed and which could give it fulness, was smudged by the mist away in some undecipherable listance. The inexpensive power to be happy, which, along with other children, I brought to this world, was being constantly worn away by friction with the brick-and-mortar arrangement 3f life, by monotonously mechanical habits and the customary code of respectability. In the usual course of things I was sent to school, but possibly my suffering was unusually greater than that of most other children. The non-civilized 171 THE RELIGION OF MAN in me was sensitive; it had the great thirst for colour, for music, for movement of life. Our city- built education took no heed of that living fact. It had its luggage-van waiting for branded bales of marketable result. The relative proportion of the non-civilized to the civilized in man should be in the proportion of the water and the land in our globe, the former predominating. But the school had for its object a continual reclamation of the civilized. Such a drain in the fluid element causes an aridity which may not be considered deplorable under city conditions. But my nature never got ac- customed to those conditions, to the callous decency of the pavement The non-civilized triumphed in me only too soon and drove me away from school when I had just entered my teens. I found myself stranded on a solitary island of ignorance, and had to rely solely upon my own instincts to build up my education from the very beginning. This reminds me that when I was young I had the great good fortune of coming upon a Bengali translation of Robinson Crusoe. I still believe that it is the best book for boys that has ever been written. There was a longing in me when young to run away from my own self and be one with everything in Nature. This mood appears to be particularly Indian, the outcome of a traditional desire for the expansion of consciousness. One has to admit that such a desire is too subjective in its 172 THE TEACHER character ; but this is inevitable in the geographical circumstances which we have to endure. We live under the extortionate tyranny of the tropics, pay- ing heavy toll every moment for the barest right of existence. The heat, the damp, the unspeakable fecundity of minute life feeding upon big life, the perpetual sources of irritation, visible and invis- ible, leave very little margin of capital for extrava- gant experiments. Excess of energy seeks obstacles for its self-realization. That is why we find so often in Western literature a constant emphasis upon the malignant aspect of Nature, in whom the people of the West seem to be delighted to discover an enemy for the sheer enjoyment of challenging her to fight. The reason which made Alexander express his desire to find other worlds to conquer, when his conquest of the world was completed, makes the enormously vital people of the West desire, when they have some respite in their sub- lime mission of fighting against objects that are noxious, to go out of their way to spread their coat- tails in other people's thoroughfares and to claim indemnity when these are trodden upon. In order to make the thrilling risk of hurting themselves they are ready to welcome endless trouble to hurt others who are inoffensive, such as the beautiful birds which happen to know how to fly away, the timid beasts, which have the advantage of inhabit- ing inaccessible regions, and but I avoid the dis~ THE RELIGION OF MAN courtesy of mentioning higher races in this con- nection. Life's fulfilment finds constant contradictions in its path ; but those are necessary for the sake of its advance. The stream is saved from the sluggish- ness of its current by the perpetual opposition of the soil through which it must cut its way. It is this soil which forms its banks. The spirit of fight belongs to the genius of life. The tuning of an instrument has to be done, not because it reveals a proficient perseverance in the face of difficulty, but because it helps music to be perfectly realized. Let us rejoice that in the West life's instrument is being tuned in all its different chords owing to the great fact that the West has triumphant pleasure in the struggle with obstacles. The spirit of crea- tion in the heart of the universe will never allow, for its own sake, obstacles to be completely re- moved. It is only because positive truth lies in that ideal of perfection, which has to be won by our own endeavour in order to make it our own, that the spirit of fight is great But this does not imply a premium for the exhibition of a muscular athleticism or a rude barbarism of ravenous rapacity. In Robinson Crusoe, the delight of the union with Nature finds its expression in a story of ad- venture in which the solitary Man is face to face with solitary Nature, coaxing her, co-operating 174 THE TEACHER with her, exploring her secrets, using all his facul- ties to win her help. This is the heroic love-adventure of the West, the active wooing of the earth. I remember how, once in my youth, the feeling of intense delight and wonder followed me in my railway journey across Europe from Brindisi to Calais, when I realized the chaste beauty of this continent every- where blossoming in a glow of health and richness under the age-long attention of her chivalrous lover, Western humanity. He had gained her, made her his own, unlocked the inexhaustible gen- erosity of her heart. And I had intently wished that the introspective vision of the universal soul, which an Eastern devotee realizes in the solitude of his mind, could be united with this spirit of its outward expression in service, the exercise of will in unfolding the wealth of beauty and well-being from its shy obscurity to the light. I remember the morning when a beggar woman in a Bengal village gathered in the loose end of her sari the stale flowers that were about to be thrown away from the vase on my table; and with an ecstatic expression of tenderness buried her face in them, exclaiming, "Oh, Beloved of my Heart!" Her eyes could easily pierce the veil of the outward form and reach the realm of the infinite in these flowers, where she found the intimate touch of her Beloved, the great, the universal Human. But in 175 THE RELIGION OF MAN spite of it all she lacked that energy of worship, that Western form of direct divine service, the service of man, which helps the earth to bring out her flowers and spread the reign of beauty on the desolate dust. I refuse to think that the twin spirits of the East and the West, the Mary and Martha, can never meet to make perfect the realization of truth. And in spite of our material poverty in the East and the antagonism of time I wait patiently for this meeting. Robinson Crusoe's island conies to my mind when I think of some institution where the first great lesson in the perfect union of Man and Nature, not only through love, but through active communication and intelligent ways, can be had unobstructed. We have to keep in mind the fact that love and action are the only intermediaries through which perfect knowledge can be obtained ; for the object of knowledge is not pedantry but wisdom. The primary object of an institution should not be merely to educate one's limbs and mind to be in efficient readiness for all emergen- cies, but to be in perfect tune in the symphony of response between life and world, to find the balance of their harmony which is wisdom. The first im- portant lesson for children in such a place would be that of improvisation, the constant imposition of the ready-made having been banished from here. It is to give occasions to explore one's 176 THE TEACHER capacity through surprises of achievement I must make it plain that this means a lesson not in simple life, but in creative life. For life may grow com- plex, and yet if there is a living personality in its centre, it will still have the unity of creation; it will carry its own weight in perfect grace, and will not be a mere addition to the number of facts that only goes to swell a crowd. I wish I could say that I had fully realized my dream in my school. I have only made the first introduction towards it and have given an oppor- tunity to the children to find their freedom in Nature by being able to love it. For love is free- dom; it gives us that fulness of existence which saves us from paying with our soul for objects that are immensely cheap. Love lights up this world with its meaning and makes life feel that it has that "enough" everywhere which truly is its "feast". I know men who preach the cult of simple life by glorifying the spiritual merit of poverty. I refuse to imagine any special value in poverty when it is a mere negation. Only when the mind has the sensi- tiveness to be able to respond to the deeper call of reality is it naturally weaned away from the lure of the fictitious value of things. It is callousness which robs us of our simple power to enjoy, and dooms us to the indignity of a snobbish pride in furniture and the foolish burden of expensive things. But the callousness of asceticism pitted *77 THE RELIGION OF MAN against the callousness of luxury is merely fighting one evil with the help of another, inviting the piti- less demon of the desert in place of the indiscrimi- nate demon of the jungle, I tried my best to develop in the children of my school the freshness of their feeling for Nature, a sensitiveness of soul in their relationship with their human surroundings, with the help of litera- ture, festive ceremonials and also the religious teaching which enjoins us to come to the nearer presence of the world through the soul,, thuscjo gain it more than can be measured like gaining an instrument in truth by bringing out its music. 178 CHAPTER XIII SPIRITUAL FREEDOM THERE are injuries that attack our life; they hurt the harmony of life's functions through which is maintained the harmony of our physical self with the physical world; and these injuries are called diseases. There are also factors that oppress our intelligence. They injure the harmony of relation- ship between our rational mind and the universe of reason; and we call them stupidity, ignorance or insanity. They are uncontrolled exaggerations of passions that upset all balance in our personal- ity. They obscure the harmony between the spirit of the individual man and the spirit of the uni- versal Man; and we give them the name sin. In all these instances our realization of the universal Man, in his physical, rational and spiritual aspects, is obstructed, and our true freedom in the realms of matter, mind and spirit is made narrow or distorted. All the higher religions of India speak of the training for Mukti, the liberation of the soul. In this self of ours we are conscious of individuality and all its activities are engaged in the expressior 179 THE RELIGION OF MAN and enjoyment of our finite and individual nature. In our soul we are conscious of the transcendental truth in us, the Universal, the Supreme Man ; and this soul, the spiritual self, has its enjoyment in the renunciation of the individual self for the sake of the supreme soul. This renunciation is not in the negation of self, but in the dedication of it The desire for it comes from an instinct which very often knows its own meaning vaguely and gropes for a name that would define its purpose. This purpose is in the realization of its unity with some objective ideal of perfections, some harmony of relationship between the individual and the infinite man. It is of this harmony, and not of a barren isolation that the Upanishad speaks, when it says that truth no longer remains hidden in him who finds himself in the All. Once when I was on a visit to a remote Bengali village, mostly inhabited by Mahomedan culti- vators, the villagers entertained me with an op r - eratic performance the literature of which belonged to an obsolete religious sect that had wide influence centuries ago. Though the religion itself is dead, its voice still continues preaching its philosophy to a people, who, in spite of their different culture, are not tired of listening. It discussed according to its own doctrine the different elements, material and transcendental, that constitute human person- ality, comprehending the body, the self and the 180 SPIRITUAL FREEDOM soul. Then came a dialogue, during the course of which was related the incident of a person who wanted to make a journey to Brindaban, the Gar- den of Bliss, but was prevented by a watchman who startled him with an accusation of theft. The thieving was proved when it was shown that inside his clothes he was secretly trying to smuggle into the garden the self, which only finds its fulfilment by its surrender. The culprit was caught with the incriminating bundle in his possession which barred for him his passage to the supreme goal. Under a tattered canopy, supported on bamboo poles and lighted by a few smoking kerosene lamps, the village crowd, occasionally interrupted by howls of jackals in the neighbouring paddy fields, attended with untired interest, till the small hours of the morning, the performance of a drama that discussed the ultimate meaning of all things in a seemingly incongruous setting of dance, music and humorous dialogue. This illustration will show how naturally, in India, poetry and philosophy have walked hand in hand, only because the latter has claimed its right to guide men to the practical path of their life's fulfilment. What is that fulfilment? It is our free- dom in truth, which has for its prayer : Lead us from the unreal to reality, For satyam is anandam, the Real is Joy. 181 THE RELIGION OF MAN In the world of art, our consciousness being freed from the tangle of self interest, we gain an unobstructed vision of unity, the incarnation of the real, which is a joy for ever. As in the world of art, so in the spiritual world, our soul waits for its freedom from the ego to reach that disinterested joy which is the source and goal of creation. It cries for its mukti, its freedom in the unity of truth. The idea of mukti has af- fected our lives in India, touched the springs of pure emotions and supplications; for it soars heavenward on the wings of poesy. We constantly hear men of scanty learning and simple faith sing- ing in their prayer to Tara, the Goddess Re- deemer : "For what sin should I be compelled to remain in this dungeon of the world of appearance?" They are afraid of being alienated from the world of truth, afraid of perpetual drifting amidst the froth and foam of things, of being tossed about by the tidal waves of pleasure and pain and never reaching the ultimate meaning of life. Of these men, one may be a carter driving his cart to mar- ket, another a fisherman plying his net. They may not be prompt with an intelligent answer if they are questioned about the deeper import of the song they sing, but they have no doubt in their^mind, that the abiding cause of all misery is not so much in the lack of life's furniture as in the obscurity 182 SPIRITUAL FREEDOM of life's significance. It is a common topic with such to decry an undue emphasis upon "me" and "mine", which falsifies the perspective of truth. For have they not often seen men, who are not above their own level in social position or intellec- tual acquirement, going out to seek Truth, leaving everything that they have behind them? They know that the object of these adventurers is not betterment in worldly wealth and power it is muktij freedom. They possibly know some poor fellow villager of their own craft, who re- mains in the world carrying on his daily vocation and yet has the reputation of being emancipated in the heart of the Eternal. I myself have come across a fisherman singing with an inward absorption of mind, while fishing all day in the Ganges, who was pointed out to me by my boatman, with awe, as a man of liberated spirit He is out of reach of the conventional prices that are set upon men by so- ciety, and which classify them like toys arranged in the shop-windows according to the market standard of value. When the figure of this fisherman comes to my mind, I cannot but think that their number is not small who with their lives sing the epic of the unfettered soul, but will never be known in his- tory. These unsophisticated Indian peasants know that an Emperor is merely a decorated slave, re- maining chained to his Empire, that a millionaire 183 THE RELIGION OF MAN is kept pilloried by his fate in the golden cage of his wealth, while this fisherman is free in the realm of light When, groping in the dark, we stumble against objects, we cling to them believing them to be our only hope.. When light comes, we slacken our hold, finding them to be mere parts of the All to which we are related. The simple man of the village knows what freedom is freedom from the isolation of self, from the isolation of things, which imparts a fierce intensity to our sense of possession. He knows that this freedom is not the mere negation of bondage, in the bareness of our belongings, but in some positive realization which gives pure joy to our being, and he sings: "To him who sinks into the deep, nothing remains unattained." He says again: Let my two minds meet and combine, And lead me to the city Wonderful. When that one mind of ours which wanders in search of things in the outer region of the varied, and the other which seeks the inward vision of unity, are no longer in conflict, they help us to realize the ajab, the anirvachaniya, the ineffable. The poet saint Kabir has also the same message when he sings : By saying that Supreme Reality only dwells in the inner realm of spirit, we shame the outer world of matter; and also when we say that he is only in the outside, we do not speak the truth. 184 SPIRITUAL FREEDOM According to these singers, truth is in unity, and therefore freedom is in its realization. The texts of our daily worship and meditation are for train- ing our mind to overcome the barrier of separate- ness from the rest of existence and to realize advaitam, the Supreme Unity which is anantam, in- finitude. It is philosophical wisdom, having its universal radiation in the popular mind in India, that inspires our prayer, our daily spiritual prac- tices. It has its constant urging for us to go beyond the world of appearances, in which facts as facts are alien to us, like the mere sounds of foreign music; it speaks to us of an emancipation in the inner truth of all things, where the endless Many reveal the One. Freedom in the material world has also the same meaning expressed in its own language. When nature's phenomena appeared to us as irrelevant, as heterogeneous manifestations of an obscure and irrational caprice, we lived in an alien world never dreaming of our swaraj within'its ter- ritory. Through the discovery of the harmony of its working with that of our reason, we realize our unity with it, and therefore our freedom. Those who have been brought up in a mis- understanding of this world's process, not knowing that it is one with themselves through the relation- ship of knowledge and intelligence, are trained as cowards by a hopeless faith in the ordinance of 185 THE RELIGION OF MAN a destiny darkly dealing its blows. They submit without struggle when human rights are denied them, being accustomed to imagine themselves born as outlaws in a world constantly thrusting upon them incomprehensible surprises of accidents. Also in the social or political field, the lack of freedom is based upon the spirit of alienation, on the imperfect realization of the One. There our bondage is in the tortured link of union. One may imagine that an individual who succeeds in dis- sociating himself from his fellow attains real free- dom, inasmuch as all ties of relationship imply obligation to others. But we know that, though it may sound paradoxical, it is true that in the human world only a perfect arrangement of interdepend- ence gives rise to freedom. The most individualis- tic of human beings who own no responsibility are the savages who fail to attain their fulness of man- ifestation. They live immersed in obscurity, like an ill-lighted fire that cannot liberate itself from its envelope of smoke. Only those may attain their freedom from the segregation of an eclipsed life who have the power to cultivate mutual under- standing and co-operation. The history of the growth of freedom is the history of the perfection of human relationship. It has become possible for men to say that exist- ence is evil, only because in our blindness we have missed something wherein our existence has its 186 SPIRITUAL FREEDOM truth. If a bird tries to soar with only one of its wings, it is offended with the wind for buffeting it down to the dust All broken truths are evil. They hurt because they suggest something they do not offer. Death does not hurt us, but disease does,- because disease constantly reminds us of health and yet withholds it from us. And life in a half- world is evil because it feigns finality when it is obviously incomplete, giving us the cup but not the draught of life. All tragedies result from truth remaining a fragment, its cycle not being com- pleted. That cycle finds its end when the indi- vidual realizes the universal and thus reaches freedom. But because this freedom is in truth itself and not in an appearance of it, no hurried path of suc- cess, forcibly cut out by the greed of result, can be a true path. And an obscure village poet, unknown to the world of recognized respectability, sings: O cruel man of urgent need, must you scorch with fire the mind which still is a bud? You will burst it into bits, destroy its perfume in your impatience. Do you not see that my Lord, the Supreme Teacher, takes ages to perfect the flower and never is in a fury of haste? But because of your terrible greed, you only rely on force, and what hope is there for you, O man of urgent need? "Prithi", says Madan the poet, "Hurt not the mind of my Teacher. Know that only he who follows the simple current and loses himself, can hear the voice, O man of urgent need." This poet knows that there is no external means of 187 THE RELIGION OF MAN taking freedom by the throat. It is the inward process of losing ourselves that leads to it Bondage in all its forms has its stronghold in the inner self and not in the outside world; it is in the dimming of our consciousness, in the narrowing of our per- spective, in the wrong valuation of things. Let me conclude this chapter with a song of the Baiil sect in Bengal, over a century old, in which the poet sings of the eternal bond of union between the infinite and the finite soul, from which there can be no mukti, because love is ultimate, because it is an inter-relation which makes truth complete, be- cause absolute independence is the blankness of utter servility. The song runs thus : It goes on blossoming for ages, the soul-lotus, in which I am bound, as well as thou, without escape. There is no end to the opening of its petals, and the honey in it has so much sweetness that thou, like an enchanted bee, canst never desert it, and therefore thou art bound, and I am, and mukti is nowhere. 188 CHAPTER XIV THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE I HAVE expressly said that I have concentrated my attention upon the subject of religion which is solely related to man, helping him to train his atti- tude and behaviour towards the infinite in its hu- man aspect. At the same time it should be under- stood that the tendency of the Indian mind has ever been towards that transcendentalism which does not hold religion to be ultimate but rather to be a means to a further end. This end consists in the perfect liberation of the individual in the uni- versal spirit across the furthest limits of humanity itself. Such an extreme form of mysticism may be ex- plained to my Western readers by its analogy in science. For science may truly be described as mysticism in the realm of material knowledge. It helps us to go beyond appearances and reach the inner reality of things in principles which are abstractions; it emancipates our mind from the thraldom of the senses to the freedom of reason. The commonsense view of the world that is ap- parent to us has its vital importance for ourselves. 189 THE RELIGION OF MAN For all our practical purposes the earth is flat, the sun does set behind the western horizon and what- ever may be the verdict of the great mathematician about the lack of consistency in time's dealings we should fully trust it in setting our watches right In questions relating to the arts and our ordinary daily avocations we must treat material objects as they seem to be and not as they are in essence. But the revelations of science even when they go far beyond man's power of direct perception give him the purest feeling of disinterested delight and a supersensual background to his world. Science offers us the mystic knowledge of matter which very often passes the range of our imagination. We humbly accept it following those teachers who have trained their reason to free itself from the trammels of appearance or personal preferences. Their mind dwells in an impersonal infinity where there is no distinction between good and bad, high and low, ugly and beautiful, useful and useless, where all things have their one common right of recognition, that of their existence. The final freedom of spirit which India aspires after has a similar character of realization* It is beyond all limits of personality, divested of all moral, or aesthetic distinctions ; it is the pure con- sciousness of Being, the ultimate reality which has an infinite illumination of bliss. Though science brings our thoughts to the utmost limit of mind's 190 THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE territory it cannot transcend its own creation made of a harmony of logical symbols. In it the chick has come out of its shell but not out of the defini- tion of its own chickenhood. But in India it has been said by the yogi that through an intensive process of concentration and quietude our con- sciousness does reach that infinity where knowledge ceases to be knowledge, subject and object become one, a state of existence that cannot be defined. We have our personal self. It has its desires which struggle to create a world where they could have their unrestricted activity and satisfaction. While it goes on we discover that our self-realiza- tion reaches its perfection in the abnegation of self. This fact has made us aware that the individual finds his meaning in a fundamental reality compre- hending all individuals the reality which is the moral and spiritual basis of the realm of human values. This belongs to our religion. As science is the liberation of our knowledge in the universal reason which cannot be other than human reason, religion is the liberation of our individual person- ality in the universal Person who is human all the same. The ancient explorers in psychology in India who declare that our emancipation can be carried still further into a realm where infinity is not bounded by human limitations, are not content with advancing this as a doctrine; they advocate THE RELIGION OF MAN its pursuit for the attainment of the highest goal of man. And for its sake the path of discipline has been planned which should be opened out across our life through all its stages helping us to develop our humanity to perfection so that we may surpass it in a finality of freedom. Perfection has its two aspects in man which can to some extent be separated, the perfection in being, and perfection in doing. It can be imagined that through some training or compulsion good works may possibly be extorted from a man who personally may not be good. Activities that have fatal risks are often undertaken by cowards even though they are conscious of the danger. Such works may be useful and may continue to exist beyond the lifetime of the individual who produced them. And yet where the question is not that of utility but of moral perfection we hold it important that the individual should be true in his goodness. His outer good work may continue to produce good results but the inner perfection of his personality has its own immense value which for him is spirit- ual freedom and for humanity is an endless asset though we may not know it. For goodness repre- sents the detachment of our spirit from the exclu- siveness of our egoism; in goodness we identify ourselves with the universal humanity. Its value is not merely in some benefit for our fellow beings but in its truth itself through which we realize 192 THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE within us that man is not merely an animal bound by his individual passions and appetites but a spirit that has its unfettered perfection. Goodness is the freedom of our self in the world of man, as is love. We have to be true within, not for worldly duties but for that spiritual fulfilment, which is in har- mony with the Perfect, in union with the Eternal. If this were not true, then mechanical perfection would be considered to be of higher value than the spiritual. In order to realize his unity with the universal, the individual man must live his perfect life which alone gives him the freedom to tran- scend it Doubtless Nature, for its own biological pur- poses, has created in us a strong faith in life, by keeping us unmindful of death. Nevertheless, not only our physical existence, but also the environ- ment which it builds up around itself, may desert us in the moment of triumph, the greatest pros- perity comes to its end, dissolving into emptiness; the mightiest empire is overtaken by stupor amidst the flicker of its festival lights. All this is none the less true because its truism bores us to be reminded of it And yet it is equally true that, though all our mortal relationships have their end, we cannot ignore them with impunity while they last If we behave as if they do not exist, merely because they will not continue forever, they will all the same 193 THE RELIGION OF MAN exact their dues, with a great deal over by way of penalty. Trying to ignore bonds that are real, albeit temporary, only strengthens and prolongs their bondage. The soul is great, but the self has to be crossed over in order to reach it. We do not attain our goal by destroying our path. Our teachers in ancient India realized the soul of man as something very great indeed. They saw no end to its dignity, which found its consumma- tion in Brahma himself. Any limited view of man would therefore be an incomplete view. He could not reach his finality as a mere Citizen or Patriot, for neither City nor Country nor the bub- ble called the World, could contain his eternal soul. Bhartrihari, who was once a king, has said : What if you have secured the fountain-head of all desires ; what if you have put your foot on the neck of your enemy, or by your good fortune gathered friends around you? What, even, if you have succeeded in keeping mortal bodies alive for ages tatah kirn, what then? That is to say, man is greater than all these ob- jects of his desire. He is true in his freedom. But in the process of attaining freedom one must bind his will in order to save its forces from dis- traction and wastage, so as to gain for it the veloc- ity which comes from the bondage itself. Those also, who seek liberty in a purely political plane, constantly curtail it and reduce their freedom of 194 THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE thought and action to that narrow limit which is necessary for making political power secure, very often at the cost of liberty of conscience. India had originally accepted the bonds of her social system in order to transcend society, as the rider puts reins on his horse and stirrups on his own feet in order to ensure greater speed towards his goal. The Universe cannot be so madly conceived that desire should be an interminable song with no finale. And just as it is painful to stop in the mid- dle of the tune, it should be as pleasant to reach its final cadence. India has not advised us to come to a sudden stop while work is in full swing. It is true that the unending procession of the world has gone on, through its ups and downs, from the beginning of creation till to-day; but it is equally obvious that each individual's connection therewith does get finished. Must he necessarily quit it without any sense of fulfilment? So, in the divisions of man's world-life which we had in India, work came in the middle, and freedom at the end. As the day is divided into morning, noon, afternoon and evening, so India had divided man's life into four parts, following the requirements of his nature. The day has the waxing and waning of its light; so has man the waxing and waning of his bodily powers. Ac- J9S THE RELIGION OF MAN knowledging this, India gave a connected meaning to his life from start to finish. First came brahmacharya, the period of disci- pline in education; then garhasthya, that of the world's work; then vanaprasthya, the retreat for the loosening of bonds; and finally pravrajya, the expectant awaiting of freedom across death. We have come to look upon life as a conflict with death, the intruding enemy, not the natural ending, in impotent quarrel with which we spend every stage of it. When the time comes for youth to depart, we would hold it back by main force. When the fervour of desire slackens, we would revive it with fresh fuel of our own devising. When our sense organs weaken, we urge them to keep up their efforts. Even when our grip has relaxed we are reluctant to give up possession. We are not trained to recognize the inevitable as natural, and so cannot give up gracefully that which has to go, but needs must wait till it is snatched from us. The truth comes as conqueror only because we have lost the art of receiving it as guest The stem of the ripening fruit becomes loose, its pulp soft, but its seed hardens with provision for the next life. Our outward losses, due to age, have likewise corresponding inward gains. But, in man's inner life, his will plays a dominant part, so that these gains depend on his own disciplined 196 THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE striving; that is why, in the case of undisciplined man, who has omitted to secure such provision for the next stage, it is so often seen that his hair is grey, his mouth toothless, his muscles slack, and yet his stem-hold on life has refused to let go its grip, so much so that he is anxious to exercise his will in regard to worldly details even after death. But renounce we must, and through renuncia- tion gain, that is the truth of the inner world. The flower must shed its petals for the sake of fruition, the fruit must drop off for the re-birth of the tree. The child leaves the refuge of the womb in order to achieve the further growth of body and mind in which consists the whole of the child life; next, the soul has to come out of this self-contained stage into the fuller life, which has varied relations with kinsman and neighbour, together with whom it forms a larger body; lastly comes the decline of the body, the weakening of desire, and, enriched with its experiences, the soul now leaves the nar- rower life for the universal life, to which it dedi- cates its accumulated wisdom and itself enters into relations with the Life Eternal; so that, when finally the decaying body has come to the very end of its tether, the soul views its breaking away quite simply and without regret, in the expectation of its own entry into the Infinite. From individual body to community, from com- 197 THE RELIGION OF MAN munity to universe, from universe to Infinity, this is the soul's normal progress. Our teachers, therefore, keeping in mind the goal of this progress, did not, in life's first stage of education, prescribe merely the learning of books or things, but brahmacharya, the living in discipline, whereby both enjoyment and its renun- ciation would come with equal ease to the strength- ened character. Life being a pilgrimage, with lib- eration in Brahma as its object, the living of it was as a spiritual exercise to be carried through its dif- ferent stages, reverently and with a vigilant deter- mination. And the pupil, from his very initiation, had this final consummation always kept in his view. Once the mind refuses to be bound by temperate requirements, there ceases to be any reason why it should cry halt at any particular limit; and so, like trying to extinguish fire with oil, its acquisi- tions only make its desires blaze up all the fiercer. That is why it is so essential to habituate the mind, from the very beginning, to be conscious of, and desirous of, keeping within the natural limits; to cultivate the spirit of enjoyment which is allied with the spirit of freedom, the readiness for renun- ciation. After the period of such training comes the period of world-life, the life of the householder. Manu tells us: 198 THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE It is not possible to discipline ourselves so effectively if out of touch with the world, as while pursuing the world-life with wisdom. That is to say, wisdom does not attain complete- ness except through the living of life; and disci- pline divorced from wisdom is not true discipline, but merely the meaningless following of custom, which is only a disguise for stupidity. Work, especially good work, becomes easy only when desire has learnt to discipline itself. Then alone does the householder's state become a centre of welfare for all the world, and instead of being an obstacle, helps on the final liberation. The second stage of life having been thus spent, the decline of the bodily powers must be taken as a warning that it is coming to its natural end. This must not be taken dismally as a notice of dismissal to one still eager to stick to his post, but joyfully as maturity may be accepted as the stage of ful- filment. After the infant leaves the womb, it still has to remain close to its mother for a time, remaining attached in spite of its detachment, until it can adapt itself to its new freedom. Such is the case in the third stage of life, when man though aloof from the world still remains in touch with it while preparing himself for the final stage of complete freedom. He still gives to the world from his store of wisdom and accepts its support ; but this inter- 199 THE RELIGION OF MAN change is not of the same intimate character as in the stage of the householder, there being a new sense of distance. Then at last comes a day when even such free relations have their end, and the emancipated soul steps out of all bonds to face the Supreme Soul. Only in this way can man's world-life be truly lived from one end to the other, without being en- gaged at every step in trying "conclusions with death, not being overcome, when death comes in due course, as by a conquering enemy. For this fourfold way of life India attunes man to the grand harmony of the universal, leaving no room for untrained desires of a rampant individu- alism to pursue their destructive career unchecked, but leading them on to their ultimate modulation in the Supreme. If we really believe this, then we must uphold an ideal of life in which everything else, the dis- play of individual power, the might of nations, must be counted as subordinate and the soul of man must triumph and liberate itself from the bond of personality which keeps it in an ever revolving circle of limitation. If that is not to be, tatah kirn, what then? But such an ideal of the utter extinction of the individual separateness has not a universal sanction in India. There are many of us whose prayer is for dualism so that for them the bond of devotion 200 THE FOUR STAGES OP LIFE with God may continue forever. For them religion is a truth which is ultimate and they refuse to envy those who are ready to sail for the further shore of existence across humanity. They know that human imperfection is the cause of our sorrow but there is a fulfilment in love within the range of our lim- itation which accepts all sufferings and yet rises above them. 201 CHAPTER XV CONCLUSION IN the Sanskrit Language the bird is described as "twice-born" once in its limited shell and then finally in the freedom of the unbounded sky. Those of our community who believe in the liberation of man's limited self in the freedom of the spirit re- tain the same epithet for themselves. In all de- partments of life man shows this dualism his existence within the range of obvious facts and his transcendence of it in a realm of deeper meaning. Having this instinct inherent in his mind which ever suggests to him the crossing of the border, he has never accepted what is apparent as final and his incessant struggle has been to break through the shell of his limitations. In this attempt he often goes against the instincts of his vital nature, and even exults in his defiance of the extreme penal laws of the biological kingdom. The best wealth of his civilization has been achieved by his follow- ing the guidance of this instinct in his ceaseless adventure of the Endless Further, His achieve- ment of truth goes far beyond his needs and the realization of his self strives across the frontier 202 CONCLUSION of its individual interest. This proves to him his infinity and makes his religion real to him by his own manifestation in truth and goodness. Only for man there can be religion because his evolution is from efficiency in nature towards the perfection of spirit. According to some interpretations of the Ve- danta doctrine Brahman is the absolute Truth, the impersonal It, in which there can be no distinction of this and that, the good and the evil, the beauti- ful and its opposite, having no other quality except its ineffable blissfulness in the eternal solitude of its consciousness utterly devoid of all things and all thoughts. But, as our religion can only have its significance in this phenomenal world compre- hended by our human self, this absolute conception of Brahman is outside the subject of my discussion. What I have tried to bring out in this book is the fact that whatever name may have been given to the divine Reality it has found its highest place in the history of our religion owing to its human character, giving meaning to the idea of sin and sanctity, and offering an eternal background to all the ideals of perfection which have their harmony with man's own nature. We have the age-long tradition in our country, as I have already stated, that through the process of yoga man can transcend the utmost bounds of his humanity and find himself in a pure state of 203 THE RELIGION OF MAN consciousness of his undivided unity with Para- brahman, There is none who has the right to con- tradict this belief ; for it is a matter of direct ex- perience and not of logic. It is widely known in India that there are individuals who have the power to attain temporarily the state of Samadhi, the complete merging of the self in the infinite, a state which is indescribable. While accepting their testimony as true, let us at the same time have faith in the testimony of others who have felt a profound love, which is the intense feeling of union, for a Being who comprehends in himself all things that are human in knowledge, will and action. And he is God, who is not merely a sum total of facts, but the goal that lies immensely beyond all that is comprised in the past and the present 204 APPENDICES APPENDIX I THE BAttL SINGERS OF BENGAL (The following account of the Baiils in Northern India has been given in the Visvabharati Quarterly by my friend and fellow-worker, Professor Kshiti Mohun Sen of Santiniketan, to whom I am grateful for having kindly allowed me to reproduce what he has written in this Appendix. ) Baiil means madcap, from bayu (Skt. Vayu) in its sense of nerve current, and has become the appel- lation of a set of people who do not conform to established social usage. This derivation is sup- ported by the following verse of Narahari : That is why, brother, I became a madcap Baiil. No master I obey, nor injunctions, canons or custom. Now no men-made distinctions have any hold on me, And I revel only in the gladness of my own welling love. In love there's no separation, but commingling always. So I rejoice in song and dance with each and all. These lines also introduce us to the main tenets of the cult The freedom, however, that the Baiils seek from all forms of outward compulsion goes even further, for among such are recognized as well the compulsions exerted by our desires and antipathies. Therefore, according to this cult, in order to gain real freedom, one has first to die to the life of the world whilst still in the flesh for only then can one be rid of all extraneous claims. Those of the Baiils who have Islamic leanings call such "death in life'* fana, a term -used by the Sufis 207 THE RELIGION OF MAN to denote union with the Supreme Being. True love, according to the Baiils, is incompatible with any kind of compulsion. Unless the bonds of neces- sity are overcome, liberation is out of the question. Love represents the wealth of life which is in excess of need. . . . From hard, practical politics touch- ing our earth to the nebulous regions of abstract metaphysics, everywhere India expressed the power of her genius equally well. . , And yet none of these, neither severally nor collectively, constituted her specific genius; none showed the full height to which she could raise herself, none compassed the veritable amplitude of her inner- most reality. It is when we come to the domain of the Spirit, of God-realization, that we find the real nature and stature and genius of the Indian people ; it is here that India lives and moves as in her own home of Truth. The Baiil cult is followed by householders as well as homeless wanderers, neither of whom ac- knowledge class or caste, special deities, temples or sacred places. Though they congregate on the occasion of religious festivals, mainly of the Vaish- navas, held in special centres, they never enter any temple. They do not set uj> any images of divini- ties, or religious symbols, in their own places of worship or mystic realization. True, they some- times maintain with care and reverence spots sacred to some esteemed master or devotee, but they per- form no worship there. Devotees from the lowest strata of the Hindu and Moslem communities are welcomed into their ranks, hence the Bauls are looked down upon by both. It is possible that their own contempt for temples had its origin in the 208 A PPENDICES denial of admittance therein to their low class brethren. What need, say they, have we of other temples, is not this body of ours the temple where the Supreme Spirit has His abode? The human body, despised by most other religions, is thus for them the holy of holies, wherein the Divine is intimately enshrined as the Man of the Heart. And in this wise is the dignity of Man upheld by them. Kabir, Nanak, Ravidas, Dadu and his followers have also called man's body the temple of God the microcosm in which the cosmic abode of the all-pervading Supreme Being is represented. Kabir says : In this body is the Garden of Paradise; herein are comprised the seven seas and the myriad stars ; here is the Creator mani- fest (I. 101.) Dadu says: This body is my scripture; herein the All-Merciful has written for me His message. Rajjab (Dadu's chief Moslem disciple) says: Within the devotee is the paper on which the scriptures are written in letters of Life. But few care to read them; they turn a deaf ear to the message of the heart. Most Indian sects adopt some distinct way of keep- ing the hair of head and face as a sign of their sect or order. Therefore, so as to avoid being dragged into any such distinctions, the Baiils allow hair and beard and moustache to grow freely. Thus do we remain simple, they say. The similar practice of the Sikhs in this matter is to be noted. 209 THE RELIGION OF MAN Neither do the Baiils believe that lack of clothing or bareness of body conduce to religious merit According to them the whole body should be kept decently covered. Hence their long robe, for which, if they cannot afford a new piece of cloth, they gather rags and make it of patches. In this they are different from the ascetic sanyasins, but resemble rather the Buddhist monks* The Baiils do not believe in aloofness from, or renunciation of, any person or thing; their central idea is yoga, attachment to and communion with the divine and its manifestations, as the means of realization. We fail to recognize the temple of God in the bodily life of man, they explain, be- cause its lamp is not alight The true vision must be attained in which this temple will become mani- fest in each and every human body, whereupon mutual communion and worship will spontane- ously arise. Truth cannot be communicated to those on whom you look down. You must be able to see the divine light that shines within them, for it is your own lack of vision that makes all seem dark. Kabir says the same thing: In every abode the light doth shine; it is you who are blind that cannot see. When by dint of looking and looking you at length can discern it, the veils of this world will be torn asunder. (II. 33.) It is because the devotee is not in communion that he says the goal is far away. (II. 34.) Many such similarities are to be observed between the sayings of the B axils and those of the Upper Indian devotees of the Middle Ages, but, unlike the case of the followers of the latter, the Baiils 210 APPENDICES did not become crystallized into any particular order or religious organization. So, in the Baiils of Bengal, there is to be found a freedom and in- dependence of mind and spirit that resists all attempt at definition. Their songs are unique in courage and felicity of expression. But under modern conditions they are becoming extinct, or at best holding on to external features bereft of their original speciality. It would be a great pity if no record of their achievements should be kept before their culture is lost to the world. Though the Baiils count amongst their follow- ing a variety of sects and castes, both Hindu and Moslem, chiefly coming from the lower social ranks, they refuse to give any other account of themselves to the questioner than that they are Baiils. They acknowledge none of the social or religious formalities, but delight in the ever-chang- ing play of life, which cannot be expressed in mere words but of which something may be captured in song, through the ineffable medium of rhythm and tune. Their songs are passed on from Master to disci- ple, the latter when competent adding others of his own, but, as already mentioned, they are never recorded in book form. Their replies to questions are usually given by singing appropriate selections from these songs. If asked the reason why, they say: "We are like birds. We do not walk on our legs, but fly with our wings." There was a Brahmin of Bikrampur, known as Chhaku Thakur, who was the disciple of a Baiil of the Namasudra caste (accounted one of the low- est) and hence had lost his place in his own com- 2X1 THE RELIGION OF MAN munity. When admonished to be careful about what he uttered, so as to avoid popular odium, he answered with the song: Let them relieve their minds by saying what they will, I pursue my own simple way, fearing none at all. The Mango seed will continue to produce Mango trees, no Jambolans. This seed of mine will produce the real me all glory to my Master ! Love being the main principle according to the Baiils, a Vaishnava once asked a Baiil devotee whether he was aware of the different kinds of love as classified in the Vaishnava scriptures. "What should an illiterate ignoramus like me know of the scriptures?" was the reply. The Vaishnava then offered to read and explain the text, which he proceeded to do, while the Baul listened with such patience as he could muster. When asked for his opinion, after the reading was over, he sang: A goldsmith, methinks, has come into the flower garden. He would appraise the lotus, forsooth, By rubbing it on his touchstone! Recruits from the higher castes are rare amongst the Baiils. When any such do happen to come, they are reduced to the level of the rest. Are the lower planks of a boat of any lesser importance than the upper? say they. Once in Vikrampur, I was seated on the river bank by the side of a Baiil. "Father", I asked him, "why is it that you keep no historical record of yourselves for the use of posterity?" "We follow the sahaj (simple) way", he replied, "and so leave no trace behind us." The tide had then ebbed, and 2X2 APPENDICES there was but little water in the river bed. Only a few boatmen were to be seen pushing their boats along the mud. The Baxil continued : "Do the boats that sail over the flooded river leave any mark? What should these boatmen of the muddy track, urged on by their need, know of the sahaj (sim- ple) way? The true endeavour is to keep oneself simply afloat in the stream of devotion that flows through the lives of devotees to mingle one's own devotion with theirs. There are many classes of men amongst the Baiils, but they are all Baiils they have no other achievement or history. All the streams that fall into the Ganges become the Ganges. So must we lose ourselves in the common stream, else will it cease to be living." On another Baiil being asked why they did not follow the scriptures, "Are we dogs", he replied, "that we should lick up the leavings of others? Brave men rejoice in the output of their own energy, they create their own festivals. These cowards who have not the power to rejoice in them- selves have to rely on what others have left. Afraid lest the world should lack festivals in the future, they save up the scraps left over by their predeces- sors for later use. They are content with glorify- ing their forefathers because they know not how to create for themselves." If you would know that Man, Simple must fae your endeavour. To the region of the simple must you fare. Pursuers of the path of man's own handiwork, Who follow the crowd, gleaning their f alsp leavings, What news can they get of the Real? It is hardly to be wondered at that people wH< think thus should have no use for history I 213 THE RELIGION OF MAN We have already noticed that, like all the fol- lowers of the simple way, the Baiils have no faith in specially sacred spots or places of pilgrimage, but that they nevertheless congregate on the occa- sion of religious festivals. If asked why, the Baiil says: We would be within hail of the other Boatmen, to hear their calls, That we may make sure our boat rightly floats on the sahaj stream. Not what men have said or done in the past, but the living human touch is what they find helpful. Here is a song giving their ideas about pilgrimage : I would not go, my heart, to Mecca or Medina, For behold, I ever abide by the side of my Friend. Mad would I become, had I dwelt afar, not knowing Him. There's no worship in Mosque or Temple or special holy day. At every step I have my Mecca and Kashi; sacred is every moment. If a Baiil is asked the age of his cult whether it comes before or after this one or that, he says, "Only the artificial religions of the world are limited by time. Our sahaj (simple, natural) reli- gion is timeless, it has neither beginning nor end, it is of all time." The religion of the Upanishads and Puranas, even that of the Vedas, is, according to them, artificial. The followers of the sahaj cult believe only in living religious experience. Truth, according to them, has two aspects, inert and living. Confined to itself truth has no value for man. It becomes priceless when embodied in a living personality. The conversion of the inert into living truth by the 214 APPENDICES devotee they compare to the conversion into milk by the cow of its fodder, or the conversion by the tree of dead matter into fruit He who has this power of making truth living, is the Guru or Mas- ter. Such Gurus they hold in special reverence, for the eternal and all-pervading truth can only be brought to man's door by passing through his life. The Baiils say that emptiness of time and space is required for a playground. That is why God has preserved an emptiness in the heart of man, for the sake of His own play of Love. Our wise and learned ones were content with finding in Brahma the tat (lit. "that" the ultimate substance). The Baiils, not being Pandits, do not profess to under- stand all this fuss about thatness, they want a Per- son. So their God is the Man of the Heart (maner manush) sometimes simply the Man (purush). This Man of the Heart is ever and anon lost in the turmoil of things. Whilst He is revealed within, no worldly pleasures can give satisfaction. Their sole anxiety is the finding of this Man. The Baiil sings: Ah, where am I to find Him, the Man of my Heart? Alas, since I lost Him, I wander in search of Him, Thro* lands near and far. The agony of separation from Him cannot be miti- gated for them by learning or philosophy : Oh, these words and words, my mind would none of them, The Supreme Man it must and shall discover* So long as Him I do not see, these mists slake not my thirst. Mad am I ; for lack of that Man I madly run about ; For his sake the world IVe left ; for Bisha naught eke will serve, THE RELIGION OF MAN This Bisha was a bhuin-mali, by caste, disciple of Bala, the Kaivarta, This cult of the Supreme Man is only to be found in the Vedas hidden away in the Purusha- sukta (A.V. 19.6). It is more freely expressed by the Upper Indian devotees of the Middle Ages. It is all in all with the Bauls. The God whom these illiterate outcastes seek so simply and natu- rally in their lives is obscured by the accredited religious leaders in philosophical systems and terminology, in priestcraft and ceremonial, in in- stitutions and temples. Not satisfied with the avatars (incarnations of God) mentioned in the scriptures, the Baiil sings: As we look on every creature, we find each to be His avatar. What can you teach us of His ways? In ever-new play He wondrously revels. And Kabir also tells us: All see the Eternal One, but only the devotee, in his solitude, recognizes him. A friend of mine was once much impressed by the reply of a Baiil who was asked why his robe was not tinted with ascetic ochre: Can the colour show outside, unless the inside is first tinctured? Can the fruit attain ripe sweetness by the painting of its skin? This aversion of the Baiil from outward marks of distinction is also shared by the Upper Indian devotees, as I have elsewhere noticed. The age-long controversy regarding Jvaita (dualism) and advaita (monism) is readily solved by these wayfarers on the path of Love. Love is 216 APPENDICES the simple striving, love the natural communion, so believe the Baiils. "Ever two and ever one, of this the name of Love", say they. In love, oneness is achieved without any loss of respective self- hood. The same need exists for the reconcilement of the antagonism between the outer call of the material world and the inner call of the spiritual world, as for the realization of the mutual love of the indi- vidual and Supreme self. The God who is Love, say the Baiils, can alone serve to turn the currents of the within and the without in one and the same direction. Kabir says: If we say He is only within, then the whole Universe is shamed. If we say He is only without, then that is false. He, whose feet rest alike on the sentient and on the inert, fills the gap between the inner and the outer world. The inter-relations of man's body and the Universe have to be realized by spiritual endeavour. Such endeavour is called Kaya Sadhan (Realization through the body) . One process in this Kaya Sadhan of the Baiils is known as Urdha-srota (the elevation of the cur- rent). Waters flow downwards according to the ordinary physical law. But with the advent of> Life the process is reversed. When the living seed sprouts the juices are drawn upwards, and on the elevation that such flow can attain depends the height of the tree. It is the same in the life of man. His desires ordinarily flow downward towards ani- mality. The endeavour of the expanding spirit is to turn their current upwards towards the light* 217 THE RELIGION OF MAN The cu-rrents of jiva (animal life) must be con- verted into the current of Shiva (God life). They form a centre round the ego ; they must be raised by the force of love. Says Dadu's daughter, Nanimata : My life is the lamp afloat on the stream. To what bourne shall it take me ? How is the divine to conquer the carnal, The downward current to be upward turned? As when the wick is lighted the oil doth upward flow, So simply is destroyed the thirst of the body. The Yoga Vasistha tells us : Uncleansed desires bind to the world, purified desires give liberation. References to this reversal of current are also to be found in the Atharva Veda (X. 2.9; 2.34). This reversal is otherwise considered by Indian devotees as the conversion of the sthula (gross) in the sukshma (fine). The Baiil sings: Love is my golden touch it turns desire into service : Earth seeks to become Heaven, man to become God. Another aspect of the idea of reversal has been put thus by Rabindranath Tagore in his Broken Ties: "If I keep going in the same direction along which He comes to me, then I shall be going further and further away from Him. If I proceed in the oppo- site direction, then only can we meet He loves form, so He is continually descending towards form. We cannot live by form alone, so we must art APPENDICES ascend towards His formlessness. He is free, so His play is within bonds. We are bound, so we find our joy in freedom. All our sorrow is because we cannot understand this. He who sings, proceeds from his joy to the tune ; he who hears, from the tune to joy. One comes from freedom into bond- age, the other goes from bondage into freedom; only thus can they have their communion. He sings and we hear. He ties the bonds as He sings to us, we untie them as we listen to Him." This idea also occurs in our devotees of the Middle Ages. The "sahaj" folk endeavour to seek the bliss of divine union only for its own sake. Mundane de- sires are therefore accounted the chief obstacles in the way. But for getting rid of them, the wise Guru, according to the Bauls, does not advise renunciation of the good things of the world, but the opening of the door to the higher self. Thus guided, says Kabir, I close not my eyes, stop not my ears, nor torment my body* But every path I then traverse becomes a path of pilgrimage, whatever work I engage in becomes service. This simple consummation is the best. The simple way has led its votaries easily and nat- urally to their living conception of Humanity. Raj jab says: All the world is the Veda, all creations the Koran. Why read paper scriptures, O Rajjab. Gather ever fresh wisdom from the Universe. The eternal wis- dom shines within the concourse of the millions of Humanity. 219 THE RELIGION OF MAN The Baiil sings: The simple has its thirty million strings whose mingled sym- phony ever sounds. Take all the creatures of the World into yourself. Drown your- self in that eternal music. I conclude with a few more examples of Baiil songs, esoteric and otherwise, from amongst many others of equal interest. By Gangaram, the Namasudra Realize how finite and unbounded are One, As you breathe in and out. Of all ages, then, you will count the moments, In every moment find the ages, The drop in the ocean, the ocean in the drop. If your endeavour be but sahaj, beyond argument and cogita- tion, You will taste the precious quintessence. Blinded are you by over-much journeying from bourne to bourne, O Gangaram, be simple! Then alone will vanish all your doubts. By Bisha, the disciple of Bala: The Simple Man was in the Paradise of my heart, Alas, how and when did I lose Him, That now no peace I know, at home or abroad ? By meditation and telling of beads, in worship and travail, The quest goes on for ever ; But unless the Simple Man comes of Himself, Fruitless is it all ; For he yields not to forge tfulness of striving. Bisha's heart has understood right well, That by His own simple way alone is its door unlocked. "Listen, O brother man", declares Chandidas, "the Truth of Man is the highest of truths ; there is no other truth above it" 220 APPENDIX II NOTE ON THE NATURE OF REALITY (A conversation between Rabindranath Tagore and Professor Albert Einstein, in the afternoon of July 14, 1930, at the Professor's residence in Kaputh.) E. : Do you believe in the Divine as isolated from the world? T. : Not isolated. The infinite personality of Man comprehends the Universe. There cannot be anything that cannot be subsumed by the human personality, and this proves that the truth of the Universe is human truth. I have taken a scientific fact to illustrate this Matter is composed of pro- tons and electrons, with gaps between them; but matter may seem to be solid. Similarly humanity is composed of individuals, yet they have their inter-connection of human relationship, which gives living solidarity to man's world. The entire universe is linked up with us in a similar manner, it is a human universe. I have pursued this thought through art, literature and the religious consciousness of man. E. : There are two different conceptions about the nature of the universe: (i) The world as a unity dependent on humanity. (2) The world as a reality independent of the human factor. T. : When our universe is in harmony with Man, the eternal, we know it as truth, we feel it as beauty. 221 THE RELIGION OF MAN E,: This is a purely human conception of the universe. T.: There can be no other conception. This world is a human world the scientific view of it is also that of the scientific man. There is some standard of reason and enjoyment which gives it truth, the standard of the Eternal Man whose ex- periences are through our experiences. E.: This is a realization of the human entity. T. : Yes, one eternal entity. We have to realize it through our emotions and activities. We realize the Supreme Man who has no individual limita- tions through our limitations. Science is concerned with that which is not confined to individuals; it is the impersonal human world of truths. Religion realizes these truths and links them up with our deeper needs; our individual consciousness of truth gains universal significance. Religion ap- plies values to truth, and we know truth as good through our own harmony with it. E. : Truth, then, or Beauty, is not independent of man? T.:No. E.: If there would be no human beings any more, the Apollo of Belvedere would no longer be beautiful. T.:No. E.: I agree with regard to this conception of Beauty, but not with regard to Truth. T,: Why not? Truth is realized through man. E. : I cannot prove that my conception is right, but that is my religion. T.: Beauty is in the ideal of perfect harmony which is in the Universal Being; Truth the perfect 222 APPE NDI CES comprehension of the Universal Mind. We indi- viduals approach it through our own mistakes and blunders, through our accumulated experience, through our illumined consciousness *how, other- wise, can we know Truth? E. : I cannot prove scientifically that truth must be conceived as a truth that is valid independent of humanity; but I believe it firmly. I believe, for instance, that the Pythagorean theorem in geom- etry states something that is approximately true, independent of the existence of man. Anyway, if there is a reality independent of man there is also a truth relative to this reality; and in the same way the negation of the first engenders a negation of the existence of the latter. T\: Truth, which is one with the Universal Being, must essentially be human, otherwise what- ever we individuals realize as true can never be called truth at least the truth which is described as scientific and can only be reached through the process of logic, in other words, by an organ of thoughts which is human. According to Indian Philosophy there is Brahman the absolute Truth, which cannot be conceived by the isolation of the individual mind or described by words, but can only be realised by completely merging the indi- vidual in its infinity. But such a truth cannot be- long to Science* The nature of truth which we are discussing is an appearance that is to say what appears to be true to the human mind and there- fore is human, and may be called maya, or illusion, E. : So according to your conception, which may be the Indian conception, it is not the illusion of the individual, but of humanity as a whole. 223 THE RELIGION OF MAN T. : In science we go through the discipline of eliminating the personal limitations of our indi- vidual minds and thus reach that comprehension of truth which is in the mind of the Universal Man. E. : The problem begins whether Truth is inde- pendent of our consciousness. T. : What we call truth lies in the rational har- mony between the subjective and objective aspects of reality, both of which belong to the super- personal man. E. : Even in our everyday life we feel compelled to ascribe a reality independent of man to the ob- jects we use. We do this to connect the experiences of our senses in a reasonable way. For instance, if nobody is in this house, yet that table remains where it is. T. : Yes, it remains outside the individual mind, but not outside the universal mind. The table which I perceive is perceptible by the same kind of consciousness which I possess. E. : Our natural point of view in regard to the existence of truth apart from humanity cannot be explained or proved, but it is a belief which no- body can lack no primitive beings even. We attribute to Truth a. super-human objectivity; it is indispensable for us, this reality which is inde- pendent of our existence and our experience and our mind though we cannot say what it means. T. : Science has proved that the table as a solid object is an appearance, and therefore that which the human mind perceives as a table would not exist if that mind were naught. At the same time it must be admitted that the fact, that the ultimate 224 APPENDICES physical reality of the table is nothing but a mul- titude of separate revolving centres of electric forces, also belongs to the human mind. In the apprehension of truth there is an eternal conflict between the universal human mind and the same mind confined in the individual. The per- petual process of reconciliation is being carried on in our science and philosophy, and in our ethics. In any case, if there be any truth absolutely unre- lated to humanity then for us it is absolutely non- existing. It is not difficult to imagine a mind to which the sequence of things happens not in space, but only in time like the sequence of notes in music. For such a mind its conception of reality is akin to the musical reality in which Pythagorean geometry can have no meaning. There is the reality of paper, infinitely different from the reality of lit- erature. For the kind of mind possessed by the moth, which eats that paper, literature is abso- lutely non-existent, yet for Man's mind literature has a greater value of truth than the paper itself, In a similar manner, if there be some truth which has no sensuous or rational relation to the human mind it will ever remain as nothing so long as we remain human beings. E,: Then I am more religious than you arel T. : My religion is in the reconciliation of ^thc Super-personal Man, the Universal human spirit in my own individual being* This has been the subject of my Hibbert Lectures, which I have called "The Religion of Man". 225 APPENDIX III DADU AND THE MYSTERY OF FORM (From an article in the Vwuabharati Quarterly by Professor Kshiti Mohan Sen.) THE language of man has been mainly occupied with telling us about the elements into which the finite world has been analysed ; nevertheless, now and again, it reveals glimpses of the world of the Infinite as well ; for the spirit of man has discov- ered rifts in the wall of Matter. Our intellect can count the petals, classify the scent, and describe the colour of the rose, but its unify finds its expression when we rejoice in it. The intellect at best can give us only a broken view of things. The marvellous vision of the Seer, in spite of the scoffing in which both Science and Metaphysics so often indulge, can alone make manifest to us the truth of a thing in its complete- ness. When we thus gain a vision of unity, we are no longer intellectually aware of detail, counting, classifying, or distinguishing for them we have found admittance into the region of the spirit, and there we simply measure the truth of our realization by the intensity of our joy. What is the meaning of this unutterable joy? That which we know by intellectual process is something outside ourselves. But the vision of any- thing in the fulness of its unity involves the reali- 226 APPENDI C ES zation of the unity of the self within, as well as of the relation between the two. The knowledge of the many may make us proud, but it makes us glad when our kinship with the One is brought home to us. Beauty is the name that we give to this ac- knowledgment of unity and of its relationship with ourselves. It is through the beauty of Nature, or of Human Character, or Service, that we get our glimpses of the Supreme Soul whose essence is bliss. Or rather, it is when we become conscious of Him in Nature, or Art, or Service, that Beauty flashes out And whenever we thus light upon the Dweller-within, all discord disappears and Love and Beauty are seen inseparable from Truth. It is really the com- ing of Truth to us as kinsman which floods our being with Joy. This realization in Joy is immediate, self-suffi- cient, ultimate. When the self experiences Joy within, it is completely satisfied and has nothing more to ask from the outside world. Joy, as we know it, is a direct, synthetic measure of Beauty and neither awaits nor depends upon any analyti- cal process. In our Joy, further, we behold not only the unity, but also the origin, for the Beauty which tells us of Him can be nothing but radiance re- flected, melody re-echoed, from Him; else would all this have been unmeaning indeed Society, Civilization, Humanity. The progress of Man would otherwise have ended in an orgy of the gratification of his animal passions. The power of realization, for each particular individual, is limited. All do not attain the privi- lege of directly apprehending the universal Unity. 227 THE RELIGION OF MAN Nevertheless, a partial vision of it, say in a flower, or in a friend, is a common experience; moreover, the potentiality is inherent in every individual soul, by dint of disciplined striving, to effect its own expansion and thereupon eventually to achieve the realization of the Supreme SouL By whom, meanwhile, are these ineffable tidings from the realm of the Spirit, the world of the In- finite, brought to us? Not by potentates or phi- losophers, but by the poor, the untutored, the despised. And with what superb assurance do they lead us out of the desert of the intellect into the paradise of the Spirit! When our metaphysicians, dividing themselves into rival schools of Monism, Dualism or Monis- tic-Dualism, had joined together in dismissing the world as Maya, then, up from the depths of their social obscurity, rose these cobblers, weavers, and sewers of bags, proclaiming such theorems of the intellect to be all nonsense; for the metaphysicians had not seen with their own inner vision how the world overflowed with Truth and Love, Beauty and Joy. Dadu, Ravidas, Kabir and Nanafc were not ascetics; they bore no message of poverty, or re- nunciation, for their own sake; they were poets who had pierced the curtain of appearances and had glimpses of the world of Unity, where God himself is a poet Their wprds cannot stand the glare of logical criticism; they babble, like babes, of the joy of their vision of Him, of the ecstasy into which His music has thrown them. Nevertheless, it is they, not the scientists or phi- losophers, who have taught us of reality. On the 228 APP E NDICES one side the Supreme Soul is alone, on the other my individual soul is alone. If the two do not come together, then indeed there befalls the greatest of all calamities, the utter emptiness of chaos. For all the abundance of His inherent joy, God is in want of my joy of Him; and Reality in its perfec- tion only blossoms where we meet "When I look upon the beauty of this Universe", says Dadu, "I cannot help asking: 'How, O Lord, did you come to create it? What sudden wave of joy coursing through your being compelled its own manifestation? Was it really due to desire for self- expression, or simply on the impulse of emotion? Or was it perhaps just your fancy to revel in the play of form? Is this play then so delightful to you ; or is it that you would see your own inborn delight thus take shape?' Oh, how can these ques- tions be answered in words?" cries Dadu. "Only those who know will understand." "Why not go to him who has wrought this mar- vel", says Dadu elsewhere, "and ask: 'Cannot your own message make clear this wondrous making of the One into the many?' When I look on creation as beauty of form, I see only Form and Beauty. When I look on it as life, everywhere I see Life. When I look on it as Brahma, then indeed is Dadu at a loss for words. When I see it in relation, it is of bewildering variety. When I see it in my own soul, all its variousness is merged in the beauty of the Supreme Soul. This eye of mine then becomes also the eye of Brahma, and in this exchange of mutual vision does Dadu behold Truth." The eye cannot see the face for that purpose a mirror is necessary. That is to say, either the face 229 THE RELIGION OF MAN has to be put at a distance from the eye, or the eye moved away from the face in any case what was one has to be made into two. The image is not the face itself, but how else is that to be seen? So does God mirror Himself in Creation; and since He cannot place Himself outside His own Infinity, He can only gain a vision of Himself and get a taste of His own joy through my joy in Him and in His Universe. Hence the anxious striving of the devotee to keep himself thoroughly pure not through any pride of puritanism, but because his soul is the playground where God would revel in Himself. Had not God's radiance, His beauty, thus found its form in the Universe, its joy in the devotee, He would have remained mere formless, colourless Being in the nothingness of infinity. This is what makes the Mystery so profound, so inscrutable. Whether we say that only Brahma is true, or only the universe is true, we are equally far from the Truth, which can only be expressed as both this and that, or neither this nor that. And Dadu can only hint at it by saying: "Neither death nor life is He; He neither goes out, nor does He come in; nor sleeps, nor wakes; nor wants, nor is satisfied. He is neither I nor you, neither One nor Two, For no sooner do I say that all is One, than I find us both ; and when I say there are two, I see we're One. So, O Dadu, rest content to look on Him just as He is, in the dee of your heart, and give up wrestling with vain imaginings and empty words." "Words shower", Dadu goes on, "when spouts the fount of the intellect; but where realization 230 APPENDICES grows, there music has its seat" When the intellect confesses defeat, and words fail, then, indeed, from the depth of the heart wells up the song of the joy of realization. What words cannot make clear, melody can; to its strains one can revel in the vision of God in His revels. "That is why", cries Dadu, "your universe, this creation of yours, has charmed me so your waters and your breezes, and this earth which holds them, with its ranges of mountains, its great oceans, its snow-capped poles, its blazing sun, because, through all the three regions of earth, sky and heaven, amidst all their multifarious life, it is your ministration, your beauty, that keeps me en- thralled. Who can know you, O Invisible, Unap- proachable, Unfathomable! Dadu has no desire to know ; he is satisfied to remain enraptured with all this beauty of yours, and to rejoice in it with To look upon Form as the play of His love is not to belittle it. In creating the senses God did not intend them to be starved, "And so", says Dadu, "the eye is feasted with colour, the ear with music, the palate with flowers, wondrously provided." And we find that the body longs for the spirit, the spirit for the body; the flower for the scent the scent for the flower ; our words for truth, the Truth for words; form for its ideal, the ideal for form; all thus mutual worship is but the worship of the ineffable Reality behind, by whose Presence every one of them is glorified. And Dadu struggles not, but simply keeps his heart open to this shower of love and thus rejoices in perpetual Springtime. Every vessel of form the Formless fills with THE RELIGION OF MAN Himself, and in their beauty He gains them in re- turn. With His love the Passionless fulfils every devoted heart and sets it a-dance, and their love streams back to the Colourless, variegated with the tints of each. Beauteous Creation yields up her charms, in all their purity, to her Lord. Need she make further protestation, in words of their mutual love? So Dadu surrenders his heart, mind and soul at the feet of his Beloved. His one care is that they be not sullied. If any one should object that evanescent Form is not worthy to represent the Eternal, Dadu would answer that it is just because Form is fleeting that it is a help, not a hindrance, to His worship. While returning back to its Origin, it captures our mind and takes it along with itself. The call of Beauty tells us of the Unthinkable, towards whom it lies. In passing over us, Death assures us of the truth of Life, 232 APPENDIX IV NIGHT AND MORNING (An address in the Chapel of Manchester College, Oxford, on Sunday, May 25, 1930, by Rabindranath Tagore.) IN his early youth, stricken with a great sorrow at the death of his grandmother, my father painfully groped for truth when his world had darkened, and his life lost its meaning. At this moment of despair a torn page of a manuscript carried by a casual wind was brought to his notice. The text it contained was the first verse of the Ishopanishad : Isavasyam fdam survam Yat Kincha jagatyam jagat. tena tyaktena bhunjitha Ma grdhah Kasyasvitdhanam. - It may be thus translated : "Thou must know that whatever moves in this moving world in enveloped by God. And therefore find thy enjoyment in renunciation, never coveting what belongs to others." In this we are enjoined to realize that all facts that move and change have their significance in their relation to one everlasting truth. For then we can be rid of the greed of acquisition, gladly dedicat- ing everything we have to that Supreme Truth. The change in our mind is immense in its generos- ity of expression when an utter sense of vanity and vacancy is relieved at the consciousness of a per- vading reality. 333 THE RELIGION OF MAN I remember once while on a boat trip in a strange neighbourhood I found myself unexpectedly at the confluence of three great rivers as the daylight faded and the night darkened over a desolation dumb and inhospitable. A sense of dread pos- sessed the crew and an oppressive anxiety bur- dened my thoughts, with its unreasonable exag- geration all through the dark hours. The morning came and at once the brooding obsession vanished. Everything remained the same only the sky was filled with light. The night had brought her peace, the peace of a black ultimatum in which all hope ceased in an abyss of nothingness, but the peace of the morning appeared like that of a mother's smile, which in its serene silence utters, "I am here". I realized why birds break out singing in the morning, and felt that their songs are their own glad answers to the emphatic assurance of a Yes in the morning light in which they find a luminous harmony of their own existence. Darkness drives our being into an isolation of insignificance and we are frightened because in the dark the sense of our own truth dwindles into a minimum. Within us we carry a positive truth, the consciousness of our personality, which naturally seeks from our surroundings its response in a truth which is positive, and then in this harmony we find our wealth of reality and arc gladly ready to sacrifice. That which distinguishes man from the animal is the fact that he expresses himself not in his claims, in his needs, but in his sacrifice, which has the creative energy that builds his home, his society, his civilization. It proves that his instinct acknowledges the inexhaustible 234 APPENDICES wealth of a positive truth which gives highest value to existence. In whatever we are mean, greedy and unscrupulous, there are the dark bands in the spectrum of our consciousness; they prove chasms of bankruptcy in our realization of the truth that the world moves, not in a blank sky of negation, but in the bosom of an ideal spirit of fulfil- ment. Most often crimes are committed when it is night. It must not be thought that the only reason for this is that in the dark they are likely to remain undetected. But the deeper reason is that in the dark the negative aspect of time weakens the posi- tive sense of our own humanity. Our victims, as well as we ourselves, are less real to us in the night, and that which we miss within we desper- ately seek outside us. Wherever in the human world the individual self forgets its isolation, the light that unifies is revealed the light of the Ever- lasting Yes, whose sound-symbol in India is OM. Then it becomes easy for man to be good not be- cause his badness is restrained, but because of his joy in the positive background of his own reality, because his mind no longer dwells in a fathomless night of an anarchical world of denial. Man finds an instance of this in the idea of his own country, which reveals to him a positive truth, the idea that has not the darkness of negation which is sinister, which generates suspicion, exaggerates fear, encourages uncontrolled greed ; for his own country is an indubitable reality to him which delights his soul. In such intense consciousness of reality we discover our own greater self that spreads beyond our physical life and immediate 235 THE RELIGION OF MAN present, and offers us generous opportunities of enjoyment in renunciation. In the introductory chapter of our civilization individuals by some chance found themselves to- gether within a geographic enclosure. But a mere crowd without an inner meaning of inter-relation is negative, and therefore it can easily be hurtful. The individual who is a mere component part of an unneighbourly crowd, who in his exclusiveness represents only himself, is apt to be suspicious of others, with no inner control in hating and hitting his fellow-beings at the very first sight This sav- age mentality is the product of the barren spirit of negation that dwells in the spiritual night But when the morning of mutual recognition broke out, the morning of co-operative life, that divine mys- tery which is the creative spirit of unity, imparted meaning to individuals in a larger truth named "people". These individuals gladly surrendered themselves to the realization of their true human- ity, the humanity of a great wholeness composed of generations of men consciously and unconsciously building up a perfect future. They realized peace according to the degree of unity which they at- tained in their mutual relationship, and within that limit they found the one sublime truth which pervades time that moves, the things that change, the life that grows, the thoughts that flow onwards. They united with themselves the surrounding physical nature in her hills and rivers, in the dance of rhythm in all her forms and colours, in the blue of her sky, the tender green of her corn shoots. In gradual degrees men became aware that the subtle intricacies of human existence find their per- 236 * APPENDICES faction in the harmony of interdependence, never in the vigorous exercise of elbows by a mutually pushing multitude, in the arrogant assertion of independence which fitly belongs to the barren rocks and deserts grey with the pallor of death. For rampant individualism is against what is truly human that is to say spiritual it belongs to the primitive poverty of the animal life, it is the confinement of a cramped spirit, of restricted con- sciousness. The limited boundaries of a race or a country within which the supreme truth of humanity has been more or less realized in the past are crossed to-day from the outside. The countries are physi- cally brought closer to each other by science. But science has not brought with it the light that helps understanding. On the contrary science on its prac- tical side has raised obstacles among them against the development of a sympathetic knowledge. But I am not foolish enough to condemn science as materialistic. No truth can be that Science means intellectual probity in our knowledge and dealings with the physical world and such con- scientiousness has a spiritual quality that encour- ages sacrifice and martyrdom. But in science the oft-used half-truth that honesty is the best policy is completely made true and our mind's honesty in this field never fails to bring us the best profit for our living. Mischief finds its entry through this back-door of utility, tempting the primitive in man, arousing his evil passions. And through this the great meeting of races has been obscured of its great meaning. When I view it in my mind I am reminded of the fearful immensity of the 237 THE RELIGION OF MAN meeting of the three mighty rivers where I found myself unprepared in a blackness of universal menace. Over the vast gathering of peoples the insensitive night darkly broods, the night of un- reality. The primitive barbarity of limitless suspi- cion and mutual jealousy fills the world's atmos- phere to-day the barbarity of the aggressive indi- vidualism of nations, pitiless in its greed, un- ashamed of its boastful brutality. Those that have come out for depredation in this universal night have the indecent audacity to say that such conditions are eternal in man, that the moral ideals are only for individuals but that the race belongs to the primitive nature of the animal. But when we see that in the range of physical power man acknowledges no limits in his dreams, and is not even laughed at when he hopes to visit the neighbouring planet; must he insult his hu- manity by proclaiming that human nature has reached its limit of moral possibility? We must work with all our strength for the seemingly im- possible ; we must be sure that faith in the perfect builds the path for the perfect that the external fact of unity which has surprised us must be sub- limated in an internal truth of unity which would light up the Truth of Man the Eternal. Nations are kept apart not merely by interna- tional jealousy, but also by their Karma, their own past, handicapped by the burden of the dead. They find it hard to think that the mentality which they fondly cultivated within the limits of a narrow past has no continuance in a wider future, they are never tired of uttering the blasphemy that warfare is eternal, that physical might has its inevitable 238 THE RELIGION OF MAN right of moral cannibalism where the flesh is weak. The wrong that has been done in the past seeks to justify itself by its very perpetuation, like a disease by its chronic malignity, and it sneers and growls at the least proposal of its termi- nation. Such an evil ghost of a persistent past, the dead that would cling to life, haunts the night to- day over mutually alienated countries, and men that are gathered together in the dark cannot see each other's faces and features. We in India are unfortunate in not having the chance to give expression to the best in us in creat- ing intimate relations with the powerful nations, whose preparations are all leading to an enormous waste of resources in a competition of brow-beating and bluff. Some great voice is waiting to be heard which will usher in the sacred light of truth in the dark hours of the nightmare of politics, the voice which will proclaim that "God is over all", and exhort us never to covet, to be great in renunciation that gives us the wealth of spirit, strength of truth, leads us from the illusion of power to the fullness of perfection, to the Sdntam, who is peace eternal, to the Advaltam who is the infinite One in the heart of the manifold. But we in India have not yet had the chance. Yet we have our own human voice which truth demands. The messengers of truth have ever joined hands across centuries, across the seas, across historical barriers, and they help to raise up the great continent of human brotherhood from avidya, from the slimy bottom of spiritual apathy. We individuals, however small may be our power and whatever corner of the world we may belong to, have a claim upon 239 THE RELIGION OF MAN us to add to the light of the consciousness that com- prehends all humanity. And for this cause I ask your co-operation, not only because co-operation gives us strength in our work, but because co- operation itself is the best aspect of the truth we represent; it is an end and not merely the means. Let us keep our faith firm in the objectivity of the source of our spiritual ideal of unity, though it cannot be proved by any mathematical logic. Let us proclaim in our conduct that it has already been given to us to be realized, like a song which has only to be mastered and sung, like the morning which has only to be welcomed by raising the screens, opening the doors. The idea of a millennium is treasured in our ancient legends. The instinct cradled and nour- ished in them has profound meaning. It is like the instinct of a chick which dimly feels that an infinite world of freedom is already given to it, truer than the narrow fact of its immediate life within the egg. An agnostic chick has the rational right to doubt it, but at the same time it cannot help pecking at its shell. The human soul, confined in its limitation, has also dreamt of millennium, and striven for a spiritual emancipation which seems impossible of attainment, and yet it feels its reverence for some ever-present source of inspira- tion in which all its experience of the true, the good and beautiful finds its reality. And therefore it has been said by the Upani- shad: "Thou must know that God pervades all things that move and change in this moving world ; find thy enjoyment in renunciation, covet not what belongs to others." 240 APPENDICES Ya eko varno bahudha saktiyogat Varnan ariekan nihitartho dadhati. Vichaiti chante visvamadau sa devah Sa no buddhya subhaya samjrunaktu. He who is one, and who dispenses the inherent needs of all peoples and all times, who is in the beginning and the end of all things, may he unite us with the bond of truth, of common fellowship, of righteousness. 241 INDEX Ahwa Mazda, 76, 78, etc. Aryan, 79 Aryans, 113 Atharva Veda, 42, 49, etc-, Baiil, 1 6, 207, etc. Bengal, 16, etc. Bikrampur, 211 Bisha, 216 Brahma, 67, 68, etc., 113 Brahman, 203 Brahma Vidya, 9 Brahminhood, 90 Brindisi, 175 British, 168 Buddha, 67, 68, etc. Buddhistic, 234 Calais, 175 Calcutta, 147 Chandidas, in Chhaku Thakur, 211 China, 54> 87 Chinese, 134, 143 Dadu, 209 Drummond, Mrs., 8 Drummond, Dr. W., 8 Einstein, A., 221 Europe, 8 Eve, 36 Everest, Mount, 36 Gangaram, 220 Ganges, 109, 213 Gathas, 76 149 Geiger, Dr., 74 Gita, 8 1 Greece, 54 Guru, 215 Hibbert Lectures, 7, 225 Hindu, 168 Hindu Scripture, 64 India, 40, 54, etc., 158, etc. Irani, D. J., 77, 78, etc, Is ha, 22 Ishopanishat, 116 Japan, 35> *5O, 151 Jivan-Dcvata, 95 Judaea, 54, 83 Kabir, 184, 209, 228 Kalidasa, 164, 1 66 Karapan, 81 Kashi, 214 Kavi, 8 1 Kirtan, 138 Koran, 219 Ku-Klux-Klan, 58 Lao-Tze, 143, 152, 153, etc. Mahatma, 143 Manchester College, 7 343 INDEX Manu, 198 Martha, 176 Mary, 176 Maya, 139 Mecca, 214 Medina, 214 Mohammedan, 168 Monism, 228 Monistic Dualism, 228 Namasudra, 211 Nanak, 209, 228 Nanimata, 218 Nordic, 161 Orion, 46 Oxford, 7, 8 Pandit, 215 Parabrahman, 204 Paradise, 209 Peking, 134 Persia, 54, 81 Persian, 79 Pur anas, 214 Puritanism, 165 Purushah f 65 Purusha-sukta, 216 Pythagorean, 223 Raj jab, no, 209 Ravidas, 209, 228 Rishi, US Robinson Crusoe, 172 Rome, 54, 58, 59> etc. Samadhit 204 Sanskrit, 83, 202 Sati, 83 Self universal, 21 Semitic mythology, 36 Sen, Prof. Kshiti Mohan, 207 226 Sikhs, 209 Siva, 83 Tagore, Rabindranath, 218, 221 Tara, 182 Ujjaini, 166 Upanishad, 20, 120, 135, 144 Vaisnava, 103 Vedanta, 203 Vedic, 108 Victorian, 168 Visvabharati, 207, 226 Visvakarma, 67 Western, 189 Wordsworth, in Tfajna, 81 Hoga, 65 Yoga Vasistha, 218 Zarathustra, 74, 76, etc. 244
тЖз
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢-рдПрдХ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рд╣реА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдХрд╛ рдзрд░реНрдо, рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рд╣реА рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢-рдПрдХ
рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ ┬ард╣реА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп ┬ардХрд╛ ┬ардзрд░реНрдо, рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рд╣реА рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
(рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реЗ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕,рдЬреАрд╡рди рджрд░реНрд╢рди,рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐,рдорд╛рддреГрднрд╛рд╖рд╛,рд▓реЛрдХ,рдЬрдирдкрдж рдФрд░ рдЬреАрд╡рди рдпрд╛рдкрди рдкрд░ рд╣рд╛рд╡реА рд╣реИредрдЬрд┐рди рд╢рд╛рд╢реНрд╡рдд рдореВрд▓реНрдпреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░рд┐рдд рд╣реИ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛,рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдмрджрд▓рдиреЗ рдХреА рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рд╢ рд╣реЛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИредрдмреНрд░рд┐рдЯрд┐рд╢ рд╣реБрдХреВрдордд рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдореНрд░рд╛рдЬреНрдпрд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдПрдХрддрд╛рдмрджреНрдз рдорд╣рд╛рд╕рдВрдЧреНрд░рд╛рдо рдиреЗ рдЗрд╕ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЛ рдПрдХрд╕реВрддреНрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдмрд╛рдВрдзрд╛ рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдЕрд▓рдЧ рдЕрд▓рдЧ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдпрддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рдЦрдВрдбрд┐рдд рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдореВрд╣ рдорд╛рддреНрд░ рдерд╛редрд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛,рд╕рдВрдкреНрд░рднреБрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░ рдХреА рджрд┐рд╢рд╛ рдореЗрдВ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рд╕рдВрдЧреНрд░рд╛рдо рдХреА рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рдиреАрдВрд╡ рд╣реИредрднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд░реЗрд▓рд╡реЗ рдиреЗрдЯрд╡рд░реНрдХ,рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрди рд╕реНрдЯреИрдВрдбрд░реНрдб рдЯрд╛рдЗрдо,рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рд┐рдиреЗрдорд╛,рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд░рдВрдЧрдХрд░реНрдо,рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рдВрд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рд╛рде рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕рдВрдд рдлрдХреАрд░ рдмрд╛рдЙрд▓ рдЧреБрд░реБ рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдзрддрд╛,рдмрд╣реБрд▓рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдордзреНрдп рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕рд╣рд┐рд╖реНрдгреБрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХрд╛ рдирд┐рд░реНрдорд╛рдг рд╣реБрдЖ рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХрд╛ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдкрд┐рд░ рдмреМрджреНрдзрдордп рд╣реИредрд╣рдбрд╝рдкреНрдкрд╛ рдореЛрд╣рдирдЬреЛрджреЛрдбрд╝реЛ рдХреА рд╕рд┐рдВрдзреБрд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛,рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдмреМрджреНрдзрдордп рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдХреЗ рдордзреНрдп рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдЬреАрд╡рди рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдХрд╛ рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░ рд╣реИредрд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреА рднрд╛рд╡рднреВрдорд┐ рдпрд╣реА рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рджрд░рдЕрд╕рд▓ рдЖрдзреБрдирд┐рдХ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдкрд░рд┐рдХрд▓реНрдкрдирд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХрд╛ рдЕрдВрддрд┐рдо рд▓рдХреНрд╖реНрдп рд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рд╣реИредрдЕрд╕рд╣рд┐рд╖реНрдгреБрддрд╛,рдШреГрдгрд╛,рд╣рд┐рдВрд╕рд╛ рдХреА рдореБрдХреНрддрдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░реА рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдм рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛,рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕,рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рдФрд░ рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░,рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрдкреНрд░рднреБрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░реАрдп рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдЦрдВрдбрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЧрдВрднреАрд░ рдЪреБрдиреМрддрд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рд╣реИрдВ,рддрдм рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдХреЛ рдорд┐рдЯрд╛рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╡рд┐рднрд╛рдЬрдирдХрд╛рд░реА рдзрд░реНрдореЛрдиреНрдорд╛рджреА рдЕрдВрдз рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреА рд╕реБрдирд╛рдореА рдЪрд▓реА рд╣реИред
рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛,рдЕрд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдкрд░ рдПрдХ рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХ 2002-2003 рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рд▓рд┐рдЦреА рдереА,рдЬреЛ рдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд╢рд┐рдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛ рд╕рдХреАредрдЗрд╕ рдмреАрдЪ рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреА рддрдорд╛рдо рдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд╢рд┐рдд рдЕрдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд╢рд┐рдд рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрдн рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдкреИрдХ рдЕрдк рдХреА рддреИрдпрд╛рд░реА рдореЗрдВ рдХрдмрд╛рдбрд╝реАрд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдХреЛ рджреЗ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рдмрд╣реБрдд рдЬрд▓реНрджреА рдХрд┐рд░рд╛рдпреЗ рдХрд╛ рдпрд╣ рджрдбрд╝рдмрд╛ рдЫреЛрдбрд╝рдирд╛ рд╣реИредрд╕рдВрдЬреЛрдЧ рд╕реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХреА рдкрд╛рдВрдбрд┐рд▓рд┐рдкрд┐ рдХреА рдХреБрдЫ рдЯреБрдХрдбрд╝реЗ рдмрдЪреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдорд┐рд▓ рдЧрдпреЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЬреЛ рдЕрдзреВрд░реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдирдпреЗ рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрднреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рд╕рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдкрд░рд┐рдкреНрд░реЗрдХреНрд╖реНрдп рдореЗрдВ рдореИрдВ рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рд╢ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реВрдВ рдХрд┐ рд╡рд╣ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХрдорд╕рдХрдо рдореЗрд░реЗ рдмреНрд▓рд╛рдЧреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рдЖрдкрдХреЛ рд╢реЗрдпрд░ рдХрд░реБрдВредрдЙрдореНрдореАрдж рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЖрдк рдЗрд╕ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╣рднрд╛рдЧреА рдмрдиреЗрдВрдЧреЗредрдпрд╣ рдЙрдкрдХреНрд░рдо рдЕрдореЗрд░рд┐рдХрд╛ рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рд╡рдзрд╛рди рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдЗрдВрдЯрд░рдПрдХреНрдЯрд┐рд╡ рд╣реЛ,рдореЗрд░реА рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рд╢ рдпрд╣реА рд░рд╣реЗрдЧреАредрдореЗрд░реЗ рдкрд╛рд╕ рдлрд┐рд▓рд╣рд╛рд▓ рдХреЛрдИ рдХрд╛рдо рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рд╡рдХреНрдд рдмрд┐рддрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдпрд╣ рдмрд╣рд╛рдирд╛ рдЦреЛрдЬ рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдРрд╕рд╛ рд╕рдордЭрдХрд░ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд╡рддрдЬрди рдореЗрд░реЗ рджреБрд╕реНрд╕рд╛рд╣рд╕ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдиреНрдпрдерд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд▓реЗрдВрдЧреЗ,рдЙрдореНрдореАрдж рд╣реИред)
рдЖрд░реНрдпрд╛рд╡рд░реНрдд рдХрд╛ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХрд╛ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рдХреЛ рдмрджрд▓рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЧреБрд░рдЦрд╛ рдФрд░ рдбреЛрдЧрд░рд╛ рд╢рд╛рд╕рдХреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЬреИрд╕реА рднреВрдорд┐рдХрд╛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ,рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рддрдорд┐рд▓рд░рд╛рдЬрд╛рдУрдВ рдХрд╛ рджрдХреНрд╖рд┐рдг рдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рдПрд╢рд┐рдпрд╛ рддрдХ рд╕рд╛рдореНрд░рд╛рдЬреНрдп рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рд░ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдХрдирд┐рд╖реНрдХ рдФрд░ рд╕рдорджреНрд░ рдЧреБрдкреНрдд рдХреЗ рд╕рдордп рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХрд╛ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдпрд╛ рд╕рдореНрд░рд╛рдЯ рдЕрд╢реЛрдХ рдпрд╛ рдЪрдВрджреНрд░рдЧреБрдкреНрдд рдХреЗ рд╕рдордп рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХрд╛ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдпрд╛ рдкрдард╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рд▓реНрддрдирдд рдФрд░ рдореБрдЧрд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрд╕реНрддрд╛рди рдХрд╛ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ,рд╡реИрд╕рд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рдЙрд╕реАрддрд░рд╣ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХрд╛ рдирдХреНрд╢рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рд╕рд┐рдВрдзреБ рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд░реЗрд╢рдо рдкрде рдХреЗ рд╕рдореВрдЪреЗ рднреВрдЦрдВрдб,рднреВрдордзреНрдп рд╕рд╛рдЧрд░, рдордзреНрдпрдПрд╢рд┐рдпрд╛ рдФрд░ рдбреЗрдирдорд╛рд░реНрдХ рдирд╛рд░реНрд╡реЗ рддрдХ рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддреГрдд рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдХрд╛ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рдмрд╛рд░рдд рдХрд╛ рдирдХреНрд╢рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрдЖрд░реНрдпрд╛рд╡рд░реНрдд рдореЗрдВ рддреЛ рд╕рдореВрдЪрд╛ рдЧрд╛рдпрдкрдЯреНрдЯреА рднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрд╡рд┐рдВрдзреНрдп рдФрд░ рдЕрд░рд╛рд╡рд▓реА рдХреЗ рдЙрддреНрддрд░ рддрдХ рдЖрд░реНрдпрд╛рд╡рд░реНрдд рд╕реАрдорд╛рдмрджреНрдз рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдореЗрдВ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓,рдУрдбрд╝реАрд╢рд╛ рд╕рдореЗрдд рдкреВрд░реНрд╡реЛрддреНрддрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХрднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИредрд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рдпрд╣реА рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИредрдЬрдмрдХрд┐ рдмреМрджреНрдзрдордп рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХрд╛ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рд▓рдЧрднрдЧ рд╕рдореВрдЪрд╛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдФрд░ рддрд┐рдмреНрдмрдд рдЪреАрди рд╕реЗ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рджрдХреНрд╖рд┐рдг рдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рдПрд╢рд┐рдпрд╛ рддрдХ рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддреГрдд рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕реАрддрд░рд╣ рддрдорд┐рд▓ рдЕрдирд╛рд░реНрдп рд░рд╛рдЬрд╛рдУрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдореНрд░рд╛рдЬреНрдп рд▓рдЧрднрдЧ рд╕рдореВрдЪреЗ рджрдХреНрд╖рд┐рдг рдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рдПрд╢рд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рдХрдВрдмреЛрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдпрддрдирд╛рдо рддрдХ рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддреГрдд рд╣реИред
рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рд╕рд┐рд░реНрдл рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рдФрд░ рдЖрд░реНрдп рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрдпрд╣ рд╕рд┐рд░реНрдл рд░рд╛рдорд╛рдпрдг рдорд╣рд╛рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХрд╛ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рди рд╡реЗрджреЛрдВ,рдЙрдкрдирд┐рд╖рджреЛрдВ,рдкреБрд░рд╛рдгреЛрдВ,рд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рддрдХ рд╕реАрдорд╛рдмрджреНрдз рд╣реИ рднрд╛рд░рдд,рдЬреИрд╕рд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЕрдм рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдмрджрд▓рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рд╕рд╛рдмрд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЙрдкрдХреНрд░рдо рдЪрд▓рд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдЗрд╕ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдХрд╛ рдПрдХ рдмрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕рд╛ рдкреНрд░рд╛рдЪреАрди рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕рд┐рдВрдзреБ рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдмреМрджреНрдзрдордп рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рдпрд╣ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рдЕрдзреВрд░рд╛ рд╣реИред
рд╡реЗрдж, рдЙрдкрдирд┐рд╖рдж, рдкреБрд░рд╛рдг рдФрд░ рд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рдмреЗрд╢рдХ рднрд░рддреАрдп рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдорд╣рддреНрд╡рдкреВрд░реНрдг рдЕрдзреНрдпрд╛рдп рд╣реИрдВ,рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд╡рд╣ рдЕрдирд╛рд░реНрдп, рджреНрд░рд╡рд┐рдбрд╝, рддрдорд┐рд▓, рд╢рдХ, рд╣реБрдг, рдХреБрд╖рд╛рдг, рдЦрд╕, рдЧреБрд░рдЦрд╛, рдбреЛрдЧрд░реА, рдЕрд╣рдорд┐рдпрд╛,рдмрдВрдЧ,рдЙрддреНрдХрд▓ рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреА рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдзрддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рдЕрдзреВрд░рд╛ рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдзрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдмрд╣реБрд▓рддрд╛,рд╕рд╣рд┐рд╖реНрдгреБрддрд╛,рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛,рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛,рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рдмрдВрдзреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рд╢рд╛рдпрдж рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рдкреНрд░рд╡рдХреНрддрд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рд╡реИрд╕реЗ рд╣реА рд╡реЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рднрд╡рд┐рд╖реНрдпрджреНрд░рд╖реНрдЯрд╛ рднреА рдереЗредрдЬрд┐рд╕ рдзрд░реНрдореЛрдиреНрдорд╛рджреА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдФрд░ рдЕрд╕реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рддрд╣рдд рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдп рдмрд╣рд┐рд╕реНрдХреГрдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛рд░реНрдпрдХреНрд░рдо рд╣реИ,рд╡рд╣ рдХреЛрдИ рдирдпрд╛ рдЙрдкрдХреНрд░рдо рднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рдХреЗ рд╕рдордп рд╕реЗ рдпрдерд╛рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдХреА рдЬрдиреНрдордЬрд╛рдд рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╕реНрдерд╛рдИ рдмрдВрджреЛрдмрд╕реНрдд рдкреНрд░рдЧрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд▓рдЧрд╛рддрд╛рд░ рд╕рдХреНрд░рд┐рдп рд╣реИ,рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рд╢реБрд░реБ рд╕реЗ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдп рдмрдирд╛ рд░рдЦрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдкрд╢реНрдЪрд┐рдо рдиреЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рдиреЛрдмреЗрд▓ рдкреБрд░рд╕реНрдХрд╛рд░ рджреЗрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рддреБрд░рдВрдд рдмрд╛рдж рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреА рд╕рдВрдд рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд╢рд╛рдорд┐рд▓ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИредрдЧреАрддрд╛рдВрдЬрд▓рд┐ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдорд┐рд▓реЗ рдиреЛрдмреЗрд▓ рдкреБрд░рд╕реНрдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдпреВрд░реЛрдк рдХреЗ рддрдорд╛рдо рдЕрдЦрдмрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рдВрдд рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреА рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рд╣реЛрддреА рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рдирдХрд╛ рдзрд░реНрдо рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдзрд░реНрдо рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрдирд╛ рдмреЗрд╣рдж рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХреА рдЬрдбрд╝реЗрдВ рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рдирд┐рд░рд╛рдХрд╛рд░ рдПрдХреЗрд╢реНрд╡рд░рд╡рд╛рджреА рдмреНрд░рд╣рдорд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдФрд░ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рддреАрдкреНрд░рдерд╛,рдмрд╛рд▓ рд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рд╣,рдмрд╣реБрд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рд╣ рдЬреИрд╕реА рдХреБрд░реАрддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдВрдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рдкрд┐рддреГрд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реБрджреНрдз рд╕реНрддреНрд░реА рдореБрдХреНрддрд┐ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рд╛рде рдЬрд▓ рдЬрдВрдЧрд▓ рдЬрдореАрди рдХреЗ рд╣рдХрд╣рдХреВрдХ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕рд┐рдпреЛрдВ,рдмрд╣реБрдЬрдиреЛрдВ,рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЬрдирд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдПрдХрддрд╛рдмрджреНрдз рд╕рд╛рдореНрд░рд╛рдЬреНрдпрд╡рд╛рдж рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рд╕реНрддреНрд░рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рд╕рдВрдЧреНрд░рд╛рдо рдФрд░ рд╕рд╛рдзреБ, рд╕рдВрдд,рдлрдХреАрд░,рдмрд╛рдЙрд▓ рдХреА рд╕рд╛рдордВрддрд╡рд╛рдж рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдФрд░ рдмреМрджреНрдзрдордпрднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рд╣реИрдВред
1930 рдореЗрдВ рдЖрдХреНрд╕рдлреЛрд░реНрдб рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╡рд┐рджреНрдпрд╛рд▓рдп рдореЗрдВ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдХреЗ рдзрд░реНрдо рд╢реАрд░реНрд╖рдХ рд╕реЗ рд╣рд┐рдмрд░реНрдЯ рд▓реЗрдХреНрдЪрд░ рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рдХрд╡рд┐ рдЧреБрд░реБрджреЗрд╡ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢рд╡рдмрдВрдзреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдзрд░реНрдо рдкрд░ рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рд╡рдХреНрддрд╡реНрдп рд░рдЦрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдореЗрдВ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХрд╛рдХрд░ рдореЗрдВ рдкреНрд░рдХрд╢рд╛рддрд┐ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИредрднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕,рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдЫрд╛рддреНрд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдпрд╣ рдПрдХ рдЕрдирд┐рд╡рд╛рд░реНрдп рдкрд╛рда рд╣реИред
рд╡рд┐рдХреАрдкреАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХрдГ
The Religion of Man (Manusher Dhormo) (1931) is a compilation of lectures by Rabindranath Tagore, edited by him and drawn largely from his Hibbert Lectures given at Oxford University in May 1930.[1] A Brahmo playwright and poet of global renown, Tagore deals with largely universal themes of God, divine experience, illumination, and spirituality. A brief conversation between him and Albert Einstein, "Note on the Nature of Reality", is included as an appendix.
рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдЗрд╕ рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХ рдХреА рднреВрдорд┐рдХрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдзрд░реНрдо рдХреНрд░рдо рдХреЗ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдорд┐рдХ рд╢рд╛рд╢реНрд╡рдд рдореВрд▓реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╣реА рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдХреА рд╣реИрдГ
ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ ржзрж░рзНржо
ржнрзВржорж┐ржХрж╛
ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ ржПржХржЯрж╛ ржжрж┐ржХ ржЖржЫрзЗ ржпрзЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗ ржмрж┐рж╖рзЯржмрзБржжрзНржзрж┐ ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ рж╕рзЗ ржЖржкржи рж╕рж┐ржжрзНржзрж┐ ржЦрзЛржБржЬрзЗред рж╕рзЗржЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗ ржЖржкржи ржмрзНржпржХрзНрждрж┐ржЧржд ржЬрзАржмржиржпрж╛рждрзНрж░рж╛ржирж┐рж░рзНржмрж╛рж╣рзЗ рждрж╛рж░ ржЬрзНржЮрж╛ржи, рждрж╛рж░ ржХрж░рзНржо, рждрж╛рж░ рж░ржЪржирж╛рж╢ржХрзНрждрж┐ ржПржХрж╛ржирзНржд ржмрзНржпрж╛ржкрзГрждред рж╕рзЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗ рж╕рзЗ ржЬрзАржмрж░рзВржкрзЗ ржмрж╛ржБржЪрждрзЗ ржЪрж╛рзЯред
ржХрж┐ржирзНрждрзБ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ ржЖрж░-ржПржХржЯрж╛ ржжрж┐ржХ ржЖржЫрзЗ ржпрж╛ ржПржЗ ржмрзНржпржХрзНрждрж┐ржЧржд ржмрзИрж╖рзЯрж┐ржХрждрж╛рж░ ржмрж╛ржЗрж░рзЗред рж╕рзЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗ ржЬрзАржмржиржпрж╛рждрзНрж░рж╛рж░ ржЖржжрж░рзНрж╢рзЗ ржпрж╛ржХрзЗ ржмрж▓рж┐ ржХрзНрж╖рждрж┐ рждрж╛ржЗ рж▓рж╛ржн, ржпрж╛ржХрзЗ ржмрж▓рж┐ ржорзГрждрзНржпрзБ рж╕рзЗржЗ ржЕржорж░рждрж╛ред рж╕рзЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗ ржмрж░рзНрждржорж╛ржи ржХрж╛рж▓рзЗрж░ ржЬржирзНржпрзЗ ржмрж╕рзНрждрзБ рж╕ржВржЧрзНрж░рж╣ ржХрж░рж╛рж░ ржЪрзЗрзЯрзЗ ржЕржирж┐рж╢рзНржЪрж┐ржд ржХрж╛рж▓рзЗрж░ ржЙржжрзНржжрзЗрж╢рзЗ ржЖрждрзНржорждрзНржпрж╛ржЧ ржХрж░рж╛рж░ ржорзВрж▓рзНржп ржмрзЗрж╢рж┐ред рж╕рзЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗ ржЬрзНржЮрж╛ржи ржЙржкрж╕рзНржерж┐ржд-ржкрзНрж░рзЯрзЛржЬржирзЗрж░ рж╕рзАржорж╛ ржкрзЗрж░рж┐рзЯрзЗ ржпрж╛рзЯ, ржХрж░рзНржо рж╕рзНржмрж╛рж░рзНржерзЗрж░ ржкрзНрж░ржмрж░рзНрждржирж╛ржХрзЗ ржЕрж╕рзНржмрзАржХрж╛рж░ ржХрж░рзЗред рж╕рзЗржЦрж╛ржирзЗ ржЖржкржи рж╕рзНржмрждржирзНрждрзНрж░ ржЬрзАржмржирзЗрж░ ржЪрзЗрзЯрзЗ ржпрзЗ ржмрзЬрзЛ ржЬрзАржмржи рж╕рзЗржЗ ржЬрзАржмржирзЗ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖ ржмрж╛ржБржЪрждрзЗ ржЪрж╛рзЯред
рж╕рзНржмрж╛рж░рзНрже ржЖржорж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржпрзЗ-рж╕ржм ржкрзНрж░рзЯрж╛рж╕рзЗрж░ ржжрж┐ржХрзЗ ржарзЗрж▓рзЗ ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ ржпрж╛рзЯ рждрж╛рж░ ржорзВрж▓ ржкрзНрж░рзЗрж░ржгрж╛ ржжрзЗржЦрж┐ ржЬрзАржмржкрзНрж░ржХрзГрждрж┐рждрзЗ; ржпрж╛ ржЖржорж╛ржжрзЗрж░ рждрзНржпрж╛ржЧрзЗрж░ ржжрж┐ржХрзЗ, рждржкрж╕рзНржпрж╛рж░ ржжрж┐ржХрзЗ ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ ржпрж╛рзЯ рждрж╛ржХрзЗржЗ ржмрж▓рж┐ ржоржирзБрж╖рзНржпрждрзНржм, ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ ржзрж░рзНржоред
ржХрзЛржирзНтАМ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ ржзрж░рзНржоред ржПрждрзЗ ржХрж╛рж░ ржкрж╛ржЗ ржкрж░рж┐ржЪрзЯред ржП рждрзЛ рж╕рж╛ржзрж╛рж░ржг ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ ржзрж░рзНржо ржирзЯ, рждрж╛ рж╣рж▓рзЗ ржПрж░ ржЬржирзНржпрзЗ рж╕рж╛ржзржирж╛ ржХрж░рждрзЗ рж╣ржд ржирж╛ред
ржЖржорж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржЕржирзНрждрж░рзЗ ржПржоржи ржХрзЗ ржЖржЫрзЗржи ржпрж┐ржирж┐ ржорж╛ржиржм ржЕржержЪ ржпрж┐ржирж┐ ржмрзНржпржХрзНрждрж┐ржЧржд ржорж╛ржиржмржХрзЗ ржЕрждрж┐ржХрзНрж░ржо ржХрж░рзЗ 'рж╕ржжрж╛ ржЬржирж╛ржирж╛ржВ рж╣рзГржжрзЯрзЗ рж╕ржирзНржирж┐ржмрж┐рж╖рзНржЯржГ'ред рждрж┐ржирж┐ рж╕рж░рзНржмржЬржирзАржи рж╕рж░рзНржмржХрж╛рж▓рзАржи ржорж╛ржиржмред рждрж╛ржБрж░ржЗ ржЖржХрж░рзНрж╖ржгрзЗ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ ржЪрж┐ржирзНрждрж╛рзЯ ржнрж╛ржмрзЗ ржХрж░рзНржорзЗ рж╕рж░рзНржмржЬржирзАржирждрж╛рж░ ржЖржмрж┐рж░рзНржнрж╛ржмред ржорж╣рж╛рждрзНржорж╛рж░рж╛ рж╕рж╣ржЬрзЗ рждрж╛ржБржХрзЗ ржЕржирзБржнржм ржХрж░рзЗржи рж╕ржХрж▓ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ ржоржзрзНржпрзЗ, рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржкрзНрж░рзЗржорзЗ рж╕рж╣ржЬрзЗ ржЬрзАржмржи ржЙрзОрж╕рж░рзНржЧ ржХрж░рзЗржиред рж╕рзЗржЗ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ ржЙржкрж▓ржмрзНржзрж┐рждрзЗржЗ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖ ржЖржкржи ржЬрзАржмрж╕рзАржорж╛ ржЕрждрж┐ржХрзНрж░ржо ржХрж░рзЗ ржорж╛ржиржмрж╕рзАржорж╛рзЯ ржЙрждрзНрждрзАрж░рзНржг рж╣рзЯред рж╕рзЗржЗ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ ржЙржкрж▓ржмрзНржзрж┐ рж╕рж░рзНржмрждрзНрж░ рж╕ржорж╛ржи ржирзЯ ржУ ржЕржирзЗржХ рж╕рзНржерж▓рзЗ ржмрж┐ржХрзГржд ржмрж▓рзЗржЗ рж╕ржм ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖ ржЖржЬржУ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖ рж╣рзЯ ржирж┐ред ржХрж┐ржирзНрждрзБ рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржЖржХрж░рзНрж╖ржг ржирж┐рзЯржд ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ ржЕржирзНрждрж░ ржерзЗржХрзЗ ржХрж╛ржЬ ржХрж░ржЫрзЗ ржмрж▓рзЗржЗ ржЖрждрзНржоржкрзНрж░ржХрж╛рж╢рзЗрж░ ржкрзНрж░рждрзНржпрж╛рж╢рж╛рзЯ ржУ ржкрзНрж░рзЯрж╛рж╕рзЗ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖ ржХрзЛржерж╛ржУ рж╕рзАржорж╛ржХрзЗ рж╕рзНржмрзАржХрж╛рж░ ржХрж░ржЫрзЗ ржирж╛ред рж╕рзЗржЗ ржорж╛ржиржмржХрзЗржЗ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖ ржирж╛ржирж╛ ржирж╛ржорзЗ ржкрзВржЬрж╛ ржХрж░рзЗржЫрзЗ, рждрж╛ржБржХрзЗржЗ ржмрж▓рзЗржЫрзЗ 'ржПрж╖ ржжрзЗржмрзЛ ржмрж┐рж╢рзНржмржХрж░рзНржорж╛ ржорж╣рж╛рждрзНржорж╛'ред рж╕ржХрж▓ ржорж╛ржиржмрзЗрж░ ржРржХрзНржпрзЗрж░ ржоржзрзНржпрзЗ ржирж┐ржЬрзЗрж░ ржмрж┐ржЪрзНржЫрж┐ржирзНржирждрж╛ржХрзЗ ржкрзЗрж░рж┐рзЯрзЗ рждрж╛ржБржХрзЗ ржкрж╛ржмрзЗ ржЖрж╢рж╛ ржХрж░рзЗ рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржЙржжрзНржжрзЗрж╢рзЗ ржкрзНрж░рж╛рж░рзНржержирж╛ ржЬрж╛ржирж┐рзЯрзЗржЫрзЗ-
рж╕ ржжрзЗржмржГ
рж╕ ржирзЛ ржмрзБржжрзНржзрзНржпрж╛ рж╢рзБржнрзЯрж╛ рж╕ржВржпрзБржиржХрзНрждрзБред
рж╕рзЗржЗ ржорж╛ржиржм, рж╕рзЗржЗ ржжрзЗржмрждрж╛, ржп ржПржХржГ, ржпрж┐ржирж┐ ржПржХ, рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржХржерж╛ржЗ ржЖржорж╛рж░ ржПржЗ ржмржХрзНрждрзГрждрж╛ржЧрзБрж▓рж┐рждрзЗ ржЖрж▓рзЛржЪржирж╛ ржХрж░рзЗржЫрж┐ред
рж╢рж╛ржирзНрждрж┐ржирж┐ржХрзЗрждржи┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬а┬арж░ржмрзАржирзНржжрзНрж░ржирж╛рже ржарж╛ржХрзБрж░
рззрзо ржорж╛ржШ, рззрзйрзйрзп
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░реЗ рдХреЗ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдкрд░ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рдпрд╣ рднрд╛рд╖рдг рдкреВрд░рд╛ рдкрдврд╝ рд▓реЗрдВрдГ
THE HIBBERT LECTURES FOR 1930
THE RELIGION OF MAN
RABINDRANATH TAGORJS
THE RELIGION
BEING
THE HIBBERT LECTURES FOR 1930
NEW YORK
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1931
COPYRIGHT, 1931,
BY THE MACM1LLAN COMPANY.
All rights reserved no part of this book
may be reproduced in any form without
permission in writing from the publisher.
Set up and elcctrotypcd Published February, 193
8T W BY MAWtf WKmiRltS WKOTVWtfl
MIHTBri IK TI1K UNITXD MATft tif A V1RU'A
TO
DOROTHY ELMHIRST
PREFACE
THE chapters included in this book, which com-
prises the Hibbert Lectures delivered in Oxford,
at Manchester College, during the month of May
1930, contain also the gleanings of my thoughts on
the same subject from the harvest of many lectures
and addresses delivered in different countries of
the world over a considerable period of my life.
The fact that one theme runs through all only
proves to me that the Religion of Man has been
growing within my mind as a religious experience
and not merely as a philosophical subject In fact,
a very large portion of my writings, beginning
from the earlier products of my immature youth
down to the present time, carry an almost con-
tinuous trace of the history of this growth. To-day
I am made conscious of the fact that the works
that I have started and the words that I have
uttered are deeply linked by a unity of inspiration
whose proper definition has often remained un-
revealed to me.
In the present volume I offer the evidence of
my own personal life brought into a definite focus.
To some of my readers this will supply matter of
psychological interest; but for others I hope it
will carry with It its own ideal value important for
such a subject as religion.
7
PREFACE
My sincere thanks are due to the Hibbert Trus-
tees, and especially to Dr. W. H. Drummond,
with whom I have been in constant correspond-
ence, for allowing me to postpone the delivery of
these Hibbert Lectures from the year 1928, when
I was too ill to proceed to Europe, until the sum-
mer of 1930. I have also to thank the Trustees for
their very kind permission given to me to present
the substance of the lectures in this book in an
enlarged form by dividing the whole subject into
chapters instead of keeping strictly to the lecture
form in which they were delivered in Oxford*
May I add that the great kindness of my hostess*
Mrs. Drummond, in Oxford, will always remain
in my memory along with these lectures as inti-
mately associated with them?
In the Appendix I have gathered together from
my own writings certain parallel passages which
bring the reader to the heart of my main theme.
Furthermore, two extracts, which contain histori-
cal material of great value, are from the pen of my
esteemed colleague and friend, Professor KshitI
Mohan Sen, To him I would express my gratitude
for the help he has given me in bringing before me
the religious ideas of medieval India which* touch
the subject of my lectures.
RABINDMNATH TAGORE
September 1930
8
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE 7
CHAPTER
I. MAN'S UNIVERSE n
II. THE CREATIVE SPIRIT * 3
III. THE SURPLUS IN MAN 49
IV, SPIRITUAL UNION 63
V. THE PROPHET 7 z
VI. THE VISION 88
VII. THE MAN OF MY HEART 107
VIII. THE MUSIC MAKER 117
IX. THE ARTIST 127
X. MAN'S NATURE 141
XL THE MEETING 154
XII. THE TEACHER 163
XIII. SPIRITUAL FREEDOM 179
XIV. THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE 189
XV. CONCLUSION 202
APPENDIX
I. THE BAtJL SINGERS OF BENGAL 207
II- NOTE ON THE NATURE OF REALITY aa*
IIL DADU AND THE MYSTERY OF FORM 226
IV. NIGHT AND MORNING 333
INDEX 43
The eternal Dream
is borne on the wings of ageless Light
that rends the veil of the vague
and goes across Time
weaving ceaseless patterns of Being.
The mystery remains dumb,
the meaning of this pilgrimage,
the endless adventure of existence
whose rush along the sky
flames up into innumerable rings of paths,
till at last knowledge gleams out from the dusk
in the infinity of human spirit,
and in that dim lighted dawn
she speechlessly gazes through the break in the mist
at the vision of Life and of Love
rising from the tumult of profound pain and joy,
Santiniketan
September 16, 1939
(Composed for the Opening Day Celebrations of the Indian College,
Montpelier, France.)
THE RELIGION OF MAN.
CHAPTER I
MAN'S UNIVERSE
LIGHT, as the radiant energy of creation, started
the ring-dance of atoms in a diminutive sky, and
also the dance of the stars in the vast, lonely theatre
of time and space* The planets came out of their
bath of fire and basked in the sun for ages. They
were the thrones of the gigantic Inert, dumb and
desolate, which knew not the meaning of its own
blind destiny and majestically frowned upon a
future when its monarchy would be menaced.
Then came a time when life was brought into
the arena in the tiniest little monocycle of a cell.
With its gift of growth and power of adaptation
it faced the ponderous enormity of things, and
contradicted the unmeaningness of their bulk. It
was made conscious not of the volume but of the
value of existence, which it ever tried to enhance
and maintain in many-branched paths of creation,
overcoming the obstructive inertia of Nature by
obeying Nature's law*
But the miracle of creation did not stop here in
this isolated speck of life launched on a lonely
voyage to the Unknown. A multitude of cells were
bound together into a larger unit, not through
IX
THE RELIGION OF MAN
aggregation, but through a marvellous quality of
complex inter-relationship maintaining a perfect
co-ordination of functions. This is the creative
principle of unity, the divine mystery of existence,
that baffles all analysis. The larger co-operative
units could adequately pay for a greater freedom
of self-expression, and they began to form and
develop in their bodies new organs of power, ne\v
instruments of efficiency. This was the march of
evolution ever unfolding the potentialities of life,
But this evolution which continues on the physi-
cal plane has its limited range. All exaggeration
in that direction becomes a burden that breaks the
natural rhythm of life, and those creatures that
encouraged their ambitious flesh to grow in dimen-
sions have nearly all perished of their cumbrous
absurdity.
Before the chapter ended Man appeared and
turned the course of this evolution from an indefi-
nite march of physical aggrandisement to a free-
dom of a more subtle perfection. This has made
possible his progress to become unlimited, and has
enabled him to realize the boundless in his power,
The fire is lighted, the hammers are working,
and for laborious days and nights amidst dirt and
discordance the musical instrument is being made,
We may accept this as a detached fact and follow
its evolution* But when the music is revealed, we
know that the whole thing is a part of the manifes*
12
MAN'S UNIVERSE
tation of music in spite of its contradictory charac-
ter. The process of evolution, which after ages has
reached man, must be realized in its unity with
him; though in him it assumes a new value and
proceeds to a different path. It is a continuous
process that finds its meaning in Man ; and we must
acknowledge that the evolution which Science
talks of is that of Man's universe. The leather
binding and title-page are parts of the book itself ;
and this world that we perceive through our senses
and mind and life's experience is profoundly one
with ourselves.
The divine principle of unity has ever been that
of an inner inter-relationship. This is revealed in
some of its earliest stages in the evolution of multi-
cellular life on this planet. The most perfect in-
ward expression has been attained by man in his
Wn body. But what is most important of all is the
( f act that man has also attained its realization in a
,more subtle body outside his physical system. He
'misses himself when isolated; he finds his own
larger and truer self in his wide human relation-
Ship, His multicellular body is born and it dies;
his multi-personal humanity is immortal In this
ideal of unity he realizes the eternal in his life and
the boundless in his love. The unity becomes not a
mere subjective idea, but an energizing truth.
Whatever name may be given to it, and whatever
form it symbolizes, the consciousness of this unity
13
THE RELIGION OF MAN
is spiritual, and our effort to be true to it is our
religion. It ever waits to be revealed in our history
in a more and more perfect illumination.
We have our eyes, which relate to us the vision
of the physical universe. We have also an inner
faculty of our own which helps us to find our rela-
tionship with the supreme self of man, the universe
of personality. This faculty is our luminous imagi-
nation, which in its higher stage is special to man.
It offers us that vision of wholeness which for the
biological necessity of physical survival is super-
fluous; its purpose is to arouse in us the sense of
perfection which is our true sense of immortality.
For perfection dwells ideally in Man the Eternal,
inspiring love for this ideal in the individual, urg-
ing him more and more to realize it
The development of intelligence and physical
power is equally necessary in animals and men for
their purposes of living; but what is unique in man
is the development of his consciousness which
gradually deepens and widens the realization of
his immortal being, the perfect, the eternal. It
inspires those creations of his that reveal the divin-
ity in him which is his humanity in the varied
manifestations of truth, goodness and beauty, in
the freedom of activity which is not for his use but
for his ultimate expression* The individual man
must exist for Man the great, and must express him
in disinterested works, in science and philosophy,
14
MAN' S UNIVERSE
in literature and arts, in service and worship. This
is his religion, which is working in the heart of all
his religions in various names and forms. He
knows and uses this world where it is endless and
thus attains greatness, but he realizes his own
truth where it is perfect and thus finds his ful-
filment,
The idea of the humanity of our God, or the
divinity of Man the Eternal, is the main subject of
this book. This thought of God has not grown in
my mind through any process of philosophical rea-
soning* On the contrary, it has followed the cur-
rent of my temperament from early days until it
suddenly flashed into my consciousness with a
direct vision. The experience which I have de-
scribed in one of the chapters which follow con-
vinced me that on the surface of our being we have
the ever-changing phases of the individual self,
but in the depth there dwells the Eternal Spirit of
human unity beyond our direct knowledge. It very
often contradicts the trivialities of our daily life,
and upsets the arrangements made for securing our
personal exclusiveness behind the walls of indi-
vidual habits and superficial conventions. It in-
spires in us works that are the expressions of a
Universal Spirit; it invokes unexpectedly in the
midst of a self-centred life a supreme sacrifice. At
its call, we hasten to dedicate our lives to the cause
15
THE RELIGION OF MAN
of truth and beauty, to unrewarded service of
others, in spite of our lack of faith in the positive
reality of the ideal values.
During the discussion of my own religious
experience I have expressed my belief that the
first stage of my realization was through my feel-
ing of intimacy with Nature not that Nature
which has its channel of information for our mind
and physical relationship with our living body,
but that which satisfies our personality with mani-
festations that make our life rich and stimulate our
imagination in their harmony of forms, colours,
sounds and movements. It is not that world which
vanishes into abstract symbols behind its own testi-
mony to Science, but that which lavishly displays
its wealth of reality to our personal self having its
own perpetual reaction upon our human nature.
I have mentioned in connection with my per-
sonal experience some songs which I had often
heard from wandering village singers, belonging
to a popular sect of Bengal, called Baiiis,' who
have no images, temples, scriptures, or ceremo-
nials, who declare in their songs the divinity of
Man, and express for him an intense feeling of
love. Coming from men who are unsophisticated,
living a simple life in obscurity, it gives us a clue
to the inner meaning of all religions. For it sug*
gests that these religions are never about a God of
* Se Appendix I,
16
MAN'S UNIVERSE
cosmic force, but rather about the God of human
personality.
At the same time it must be admitted that even
the impersonal aspect of truth dealt with by
Science belongs to the human Universe. But men
of Science tell us that truth, unlike beauty and
goodness, is independent of our consciousness.
They explain to us how the belief that truth is
independent of the human mind is a mystical
belief, natural to man but at the same time inex-
plicable. But may not the explanation be this, that
ideal truth does not depend upon the individual
mind of man, but on the universal mind which
comprehends the individual? For to say that truth,
as we see it, exists apart from humanity is really to
contradict Science itself; because Science can only
organize into rational concepts those facts which
man can know and understand, and logic is a
machinery of thinking created by the mechanic
man.
The table that I am using with all its varied
meanings appears as a table for man through his
special organ of senses and his special organ of
thoughts* When scientifically analysed the same
table offers an enormously different appearance to
him from that given by his senses. The evidence
of his physical senses and that of his logic and his
scientific instruments are both related to his own
power of comprehension; both are true and true
THE RELIGION OF MAN
for him. He makes use of the table with full confi-
dence for his physical purposes, and with equal
confidence makes intellectual use of it for his scien-
tific knowledge. But the knowledge is his who is a
man. If a particular man as an individual did not
exist, the table would exist all the same, but still
as a thing that is related to the human mind. The
contradiction that there is between the table of
our sense perception and the table of our scientific
knowledge has its compon centre of reconciliation
in human personality.
The same thing holds true in the realm of idea.
In the scientific idea of the world there is no gap
in the universal law of causality. Whatever hap-
pens could never have happened otherwise. This
is a generalization which has been made possible
by a quality of logic which is possessed by the
human mind. But this very mind of Man has its
immediate consciousness of will within him which
is aware of its freedom and ever struggles for it
Every day in most of our behaviour we acknowl-
edge its truth; in fact, our conduct finds its best
value in its relation to its truth. Thus this has its
analogy in our daily behaviour with regard to a
table. For whatever may be the conclusion that
Science has unquestionably proved about the table,
we are amply rewarded when we deal with it as a
solid fact and never as a crowd of fluid elements
that represent a certain kind of energy. We can
18
MAN'S UNIVERSE
also utilize this phenomenon of the measurement
The space represented by a needle when magnified
by the microscope may cause us no anxiety as to
the number of angels who could be accommo-
dated on its point or camels which could walk
through its eye. In a cinema-picture our vision of
time and space can be expanded or condensed
merely according to the different technique of the
instrument. A seed carries packed in a minute
receptacle a future which is enormous in its con-
tents both in time and space. The truth, which is
Man, has not emerged out of nothing at a certain
point of time, even though seemingly it might
have been manifested then. But the manifestation
of Man has no end in itself not even now.
Neither did it have its beginning in- any particular
time we ascribe to it The truth of Man is in the
heart of eternity, the fact of it being evolved
through endless ages. If Man's manifestation has
round it a background of millions of light-years,
still it is his own background. He includes in him-
self the time, however long, that carries the process
of his becoming, and he is related for the very
truth of his existence to all things that surround
him.
Relationship is the fundamental truth of this
world of appearance. Take, for instance, a piece
of coal When we pursue the fact of it to its ulti-
mate composition, substance which seemingly is
THE RELIGION OF MAN
the most stable element in it vanishes in centres of
revolving forces. These are the units, called the
elements of carbon, which can further be analysed
into a certain number of protons and electrons.
Yet these electrical facts are what they are, not in
their detachment, but in their inter-relationship,
and though possibly some day they themselves may
be further analysed, nevertheless the pervasive
truth of inter-relation which is manifested in them
will remain.
We do not know how these elements, as carbon,
compose a piece of coal ; all that we can say is that
they build up that appearance through a unity of
inter-relationship, which unites them not merely
in an individual piece of coal, but in a comrade-
ship of creative co-ordination with the entire
physical universe.
Creation has been made possible through the
continual self-surrender of the unit to the universe.
And the spiritual universe of Man is also ever
claiming self-renunciation from the individual
units. This spiritual process is not so easy as the
physical one in the physical world, for the intelli-
gence and will of the units have to be tempered
to those of the universal spirit
It is said in a verse of the Upanishad that this
world which is all movement is pervaded by one
supreme unity, and therefore true enjoyment can
never be had through the satisfaction of greed, but
20
MAN'S UNIVERSE
only through the surrender of our individual self
to the Universal Self.
There are thinkers who advocate the doctrine
of the plurality of worlds, which can only mean
that there are worlds that are absolutely unrelated
to each other. Even if this were true it could never
be proved. For our universe is the sum total of
what Man feels, knows, imagines, reasons to be,
and of whatever is knowable to him now or in
another time. It affects him differently in its dif-
ferent aspects, in its beauty, its inevitable sequence
of happenings, its potentiality; and the world
proves itself to him only in its varied effects upon
his senses, imagination and reasoning mind.
I do not imply that the final nature of the world
depends upon the comprehension of the individual
person* Its reality is associated with the universal
human rnind which comprehends all time and all
possibilities of realization. And this is why for the
accurate knowledge of things we depend upon
Science that represents the rational mind of the
universal Man, and not upon that of the individual
who dwells in a limited range of space and time
and the immediate needs of life. And this is why
there is such a thing as progress in our civiliza-
tion; for progress means that there is an ideal per-
fection which the individual seeks to reach by
extending his limits in knowledge, power, love,
enjoyment, thus approaching the universal. The
21
THE RELIGION OF MAN
most distant star, whose faint message touches the
threshold of the most powerful telescopic vision,
has its sympathy with the understanding mind of
man, and therefore we can never cease to believe
that we shall probe further and further into the
mystery of their nature. As we know the truth of
the stars we know the great comprehensive mind
of man.
We must realize not only the reasoning mind,
but also the creative imagination, the love and wis-
dom that belong to the Supreme Person, whose
Spirit is over us all, love for whom comprehends
love for all creatures and exceeds in depth and
strength all other loves, leading to difficult en-
deavours and martyrdoms that have no other gain
than the fulfilment of this love itself.
The Isha of our Upanishad, the Super Soul,
which permeates all moving things, is the God of
this human universe whose mind we share in all
our true knowledge, love and service, and whom
to reveal in ourselves through renunciation of self
is the highest end of life.
CHAPTER II
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
ONCE, during the improvisation of a story by a
young child, I was coaxed to take my part as the
hero. The child imagined that I had been shut in
a dark room locked from the outside. She asked
me, "What will you do for your freedom?" and I
answered, "Shout for help". But, however desir-
able that might be if it succeeded immediately, it
would be unfortunate for the story. And thus she
in her imagination had to clear the neighbourhood
of all kinds of help that my cries might reach. I
was compelled to think of some violent means of
kicking through this passive resistance ; but for the
sake of the story the door had to be made of steel.
I found a key, but it would not fit, and the child
was delighted at the development of the story
jumping over obstructions.
Life's story of evolution, the main subject of
which is the opening of the doors of the dark dun-
geon, seems to develop in the same manner. Diffi-
culties were created, and at each offer of an answer
the story had to discover further obstacles in order
to carry on the adventure. For to come to an abso-
lutely satisfactory conclusion is to come to the end
of all things, and in that case the great child would
33
THE RELIGION OF MAN
have nothing else to do but to shut her curtain and
go to sleep.
The Spirit of Life began her chapter by intro-
ducing a simple living cell against the tremen-
dously powerful challenge of the vast Inert. The
triumph was thrillingly great which still refuses to
yield its secret She did not stop there, but defi-
antly courted difficulties, and in the technique of
her art exploited an element which still baffles our
logic.
This is the harmony of self-adjusting inter-rela-
tionship impossible to analyse. She brought close
together numerous cell units and, by grouping
them into a self-sustaining sphere of co-operation,
elaborated a larger unit It was not a mere agglom-
eration. The grouping had its caste system in the
division of functions and yet an intimate unity of
kinship. The creative life summoned a larger
army of cells under her command and imparted
into them, let us say, a communal spirit that fought
with all its might whenever its integrity was
menaced.
This was the tree which has its inner harmony
and inner movement of life in its beauty, its
strength, its sublime dignity of endurance, its pil-
grimage to the Unknown through the tiniest gates
of reincarnation. It was a sufficiently marvellous
achievement to be a fit termination to the creative
venture. But the creative genius cannot stop
24
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
exhausted ; more windows have to be opened ; and
she went out of her accustomed way and brought
another factor into her work, that of locomotion.
Risks of living were enhanced, offering opportuni-
ties to the daring resourcefulness of the Spirit of
Life. For she seems to revel in occasions for a fight
against the giant Matter, which has rigidly pro-
hibitory immigration laws against all new-comers
from Life's shore. So the fish was furnished with
appliances for moving in an element which offered
its density for an obstacle. The air offered an even
more difficult obstacle in its lightness; but the
challenge was accepted, and the bird was gifted
with a marvellous pair of wings that negotiated
with the subtle laws of the air and found in it a
better ally than the reliable soil of the stable earth.
The Arctic snow set up its frigid sentinel; the
tropical desert uttered in its scorching breath a
gigantic "No" against all life's children. But those
peremptory prohibitions were defied, and the
frontiers, though guarded by a death penalty, were
triumphantly crossed.
This process of conquest could be described as
progress for the kingdom of life. It journeyed on
through one success to another by dealing with the
laws of Nature through the help of the invention
of new instruments. This field of life's onward
march is a field of ruthless competition. Because
the material world is the world of quantity, where
25
THE RELIGION OF MAN
resources are limited and victory waits for those
who have superior facility in their weapons, there-
fore success in the path of progress for one group
most often runs parallel to defeat in another.
It appears that such scramble and fight for
opportunities of living among numerous small
combatants suggested at last an imperialism of big
bulky flesh a huge system of muscles and bones,
thick and heavy coats of armour and enormous
tails. The idea of such indecorous massiveness
must have seemed natural to life's providence; for
the victory in the world of quantity might reason-
ably appear to depend upon the bigness of dimen-
sion. But such gigantic paraphernalia of defence
and attack resulted in an utter defeat, the records
of which every day are being dug up from the des-
ert sands and ancient mud flats. These represent
the fragments that strew the forgotten paths of a
great retreat in the battle of existence. For the
heavy weight which these creatures carried was
mainly composed of bones, hides, shells, teeth and
claws that were non-living, and therefore imposed
its whole huge pressure upon life that needed free-
dom and growth for the perfect expression of its
own vital nature. The resources for living which
the earth offered for her children were recklessly
spent by these megalomaniac monsters of an im-
moderate appetite for the sake of maintaining a
cumbersome system of dead burdens that thwarted
26
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
them in their true progress. Such a losing game
has now become obsolete. To the few stragglers
of that party, like the rhinoceros or the hippopota-
mus, has been allotted a very small space on this
earth, absurdly inadequate to their formidable
strength and magnitude of proportions, making
them look forlornly pathetic in the sublimity of
their incongruousness. These and their extinct
forerunners have been the biggest failures in life's
experiments. And then, on some obscure dusk of
dawn, the experiment entered upon a completely
new phase of a disarmament proposal, when little
Man made his appearance in the arena, bringing
with him expectations and suggestions that are
unfathomably great.
We must know that the evolution process of the
world has made its progress towards the revelation
of its truth that is to say some inner value which
is not in the extension in space and duration in
time. When life came out it did not bring with it
any new materials into existence. Its elements are
the same which are the materials for the rocks and
minerals. Only it evolved a value in them which
cannot be measured and analysed. The same thing
is true with regard to mind and the consciousness
of self ; they are revelations of a great meaning, the
self-expression of a truth. In man this truth has
made its positive appearance, and is struggling to
make its manifestation more and more clear. That
27
THE RELIGION OF MAN
which is eternal is realizing itself in history
through the obstructions of limits.
The physiological process in the progress of
Life's evolution seems to have reached its finality
in man. We cannot think of any noticeable addi-
tion or modification in our vital instruments which
we are likely to allow to persist. If any individual
is born, by chance, with an extra pair of eyes or
ears, or some unexpected limbs like stowaways
without passports, we are sure to do our best to
eliminate them from our bodily organization. Any
new chance of a too obviously physical variation is
certain to meet with a determined disapproval
from man, the most powerful veto being expected
from his aesthetic nature, which peremptorily re-
fuses to calculate advantage when its majesty is
offended by any sudden license of form. We all
know that the back of our body has a wide surface
practically unguarded. From the strategic point of
view this oversight is unfortunate, causing us
annoyances and indignities, if nothing worse,
through unwelcome intrusions. And this could
reasonably justify in our minds regret for retrench-
ment in the matter of an original tail, whose
memorial we are still made to carry in secret But
the least attempt at the rectification of the policy
of economy in this direction is indignantly re-
sented. I strongly believe that the idea of ghosts
had its best chance with our timid imagination in
28
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
our sensitive back a field of dark ignorance; and
yet it is too late for me to hint that one of our eyes
could profitably have been spared for our burden-
carrier back, so unjustly neglected and haunted by
undefined fears.
Thus, while all innovation is stubbornly op-
posed, there is every sign of a comparative care-
lessness about the physiological efficiency of the
human body. Some of our organs are losing their
original vigour. The civilized life, within walled
enclosures, has naturally caused in man a weaken-
ing of his power of sight and hearing along with
subtle sense of the distant. Because of our habit of
taking cooked food we give less employment to
our teeth and a great deal more to the dentist.
Spoilt and pampered by clothes, our skin shows
lethargy in its function of adjustment to the atmos-
pheric temperature and in its power of quick
recovery from hurts.
The adventurous Life appears to have paused
at a crossing in her road before Man came. It
seems as if she became aware of wastefulness in
carrying on her experiments and adding to her
inventions purely on the physical plane. It was
proved in Life's case that four is not always twice
as much as two. In living things it is necessary to
keep to the limit of the perfect unit within which
the inter-relationship must not be inordinately
strained* The ambition that seeks power in the
29
THE RELIGION OF MAN
augmentation of dimension is doomed; for that
perfection which is in the inner quality of harmony
becomes choked when quantity overwhelms it in
a fury of extravagance. The combination of an
exaggerated nose and arm that an elephant carries
hanging down its front has its advantage. This
may induce us to imagine that it would double the
advantage for the animal if its tail also could grow
into an additional trunk. But the progress which
greedily allows Life's field to be crowded with an
excessive production of instruments becomes a
progress towards death. For Life has its own nat-
ural rhythm which a multiplication table has not;
and proud progress that rides roughshod over
Life's cadence kills it at the end with encum-
brances that are unrhythmic. As I have already
mentioned, such disasters did happen in the history
of evolution.
The moral of that tragic chapter is that if the
tail does not have the decency to know where to
stop, the drag of this dependency becomes fatal to
the body's empire.
Moreover, evolutionary progress on the physical
plane inevitably tends to train up its subjects into
specialists. The camel is a specialist of the desert
and is awkward in the swamp. The hippopotamus
which specializes in the mudlands of the Nile is
helpless in the neighbouring desert Such one-
sided emphasis breeds professionalism in Life's
30
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
domain, confining special efficiencies in narrow
compartments. The expert training in the aerial
sphere is left to the bird ; that in the marine is par-
ticularly monopolized by the fish. The ostrich is
an expert in its own region and would look utterly
foolish in an eagle's neighbourhood. They have to
remain permanently content with advantages that
desperately cling to their limits. Such mutilation
of the complete ideal of life for the sake of
some exclusive privilege of power is inevitable;
for that form of progress deals with materials
that are physical and therefore necessarily lim-
ited.
To rescue her own career from such a multiply-
ing burden of the dead and such constriction of
specialization seems to have been the object of the
Spirit of Life at one particular stage. For it does
not take long to find out that an indefinite pursuit
of quantity creates for Life, which is essentially
qualitative, complexities that lead to a vicious cir-
cle. These primeval animals that produced an
enormous volume of flesh had to build a gigantic
system of bones to carry the burden. This required
in its turn a long and substantial array of tails to
give it balance. Thus their bodies, being com-
pelled to occupy a vast area, exposed a very large
surface which had to be protected by a strong,
heavy and capacious armour. A progress which
represented a congress of dead materials required
THE RELIGION OP MAN
a parallel organization of teeth and claws, or horns
and hooves, which also were dead.
In its own manner one mechanical burden links
itself to other burdens of machines, and Life grows
to be a carrier of the dead, a mere platform for
machinery, until it is crushed to death by its inter-
minable paradoxes. We are told that the greater
part of a tree is dead matter; the big stem, except
for a thin covering, is lifeless. The tree uses it as a
prop in its ambition for a high position and the life-
less timber is the slave that carries on its back the
magnitude of the tree. But such a dependence upon
a dead dependant has been achieved by the tree at
the cost of its real freedom. It had to seek the
stable alliance of the earth for the sharing of its
burden, which it did by the help of secret under-
ground entanglements making itself permanently
stationary.
But the form of life that seeks the great privilege
of movement must minimize its load of the dead
and must realize that life's progress should be a
perfect progress of the inner life itself and not of
materials and machinery; the non-living must not
continue outgrowing the living, the armour dead-
ening the skin, the armament laming the arms.
At last, when the Spirit of Life found her form
in Man, the effort she had begun completed its
cycle, and the truth of her mission glimmered into
suggestions which dimly pointed to some direction
32
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
of meaning across her own frontier. Before the
end of this cycle was reached, all the suggestions
had been external. They were concerned with
technique, with life's apparatus, with the efficiency
of the organs. This might have exaggerated itself
into an endless boredom of physical progress. It
can be conceded that the eyes of the bee possessing
numerous facets may have some uncommon advan-
tage which we cannot even imagine, or the glow-
worm that carries an arrangement for producing
light in its person may baffle our capacity and com-
prehension. Very likely there are creatures having
certain organs that give them sensibilities which
we cannot have the power to guess.
All such enhanced sensory powers merely add
to the mileage in life's journey on the same road
lengthening an indefinite distance. They never
take us over the border of physical existence.
The same thing may be said not only about life's
efficiency, but also life's ornaments. The colouring
and decorative patterns on the bodies of some of
the deep sea creatures make us silent with amaze-
ment The butterfly's wings, the beetle's back, the
peacock's plumes, the shells of the crustaceans, the
exuberant outbreak of decoration in plant life,
have reached a standard of perfection that seems
to be final. And yet if it continues in the same
physical direction, then, however much variety of
surprising excellence it may produce, it leaves out
33
THE RELIGION OF MAN
some great element of unuttered meaning. These
ornaments are like ornaments lavished upon a cap-
tive girl, luxuriously complete within a narrow
limit, speaking of a homesickness for a far away
horizon of emancipation, for an inner depth that
is beyond the ken of the senses. The freedom in
the physical realm is like the circumscribed free-
dom in a cage. It produces a proficiency which is
mechanical and a beauty which is of the surface.
To whatever degree of improvement bodily
strength and skill may be developed they keep life
tied to a persistence of habit It is closed, like a
mould, useful though it may be for the sake of
safety and precisely standardized productions. For
centuries the bee repeats its hive, the weaver-bird
its nest, the spider its web; and instincts strongly
attach themselves to some invariable tendencies of
muscles and nerves never being allowed the privi-
lege of making blunders. The physical functions,
in order to be strictly reliable, behave like some
model schoolboy, obedient, regular, properly re-
peating lessons by rote without mischief or mistake
in his conduct, but also without spirit and initia-
tive. It is the flawless perfection of rigid limits, a
cousin possibly a distant cousin of the inani-
mate.
Instead of allowing a full paradise of perfection
to continue its tame and timid rule of faultless
regularity the Spirit of Life boldly declared for
34
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
a further freedom and decided to eat of the fruit
of the Tree of Knowledge. This time her struggle
was not against the Inert, but against the limitation
of her own overburdened agents. She fought
against the tutelage of her prudent old prime min-
ister, the faithful instinct She adopted a novel
method of experiment, promulgated new laws, and
tried her hand at moulding Man through a his-
tory which was immensely different from that
which went before. She took a bold step in throw-
ing open her gates to a dangerously explosive fac-
tor which she had cautiously introduced into her
council the element of Mind. I should not say
that it was ever absent, but only that at a certain
stage some curtain was removed and its play was
made evident, even like the dark heat which in its
glowing intensity reveals itself in a contradiction
of radiancy.
Essentially qualitative, like life itself, the Mind
does not occupy space. For that very reason it has
jio bounds in its mastery of space. Also, like Life,
Mind has its meaning in freedom, which it missed
in its earliest dealings with Life's children. In the
animal, though the mind is allowed to come out of
the immediate limits of livelihood, its range is
restricted, like the freedom of a child that might
run out of its room but not out of the house; or,
rather, like the foreign ships to which only a cer-
tain port was opened in Japan in the beginning of
33
THE RELIGION OF MAN
her contact with the West in fear of the danger
that might befall if the strangers had their uncon-
trolled opportunity of communication. Mind also
is a foreign element for Life; its laws are different,
its weapons powerful, its moods and manners most
alien.
Like Eve of the Semitic mythology, the Spirit
of Life risked the happiness of her placid seclusion
to win her freedom. She listened to the whisper
of a tempter who promised her the right to a new
region of mystery, and was urged into a permanent
alliance with the stranger. Up to this point the
interest of life was the sole interest in her own
kingdom, but another most powerfully parallel
interest was created with the advent of this adven-
turer Mind from an unknown shore. Their inter-
ests clash, and complications of a serious nature
arise. I have already referred to some vital organs
of Man that are suffering from neglect. The only
reason has been the diversion created by the Mind
interrupting the sole attention which Life's func-
tions claimed in the halcyon days of her undisputed
monarchy. It is no secret that Mind has the habit
of asserting its own will for its expression against
life's will to live and enforcing sacrifices from hen
When lately some adventurers accepted the dan-
gerous enterprise to climb Mount Everest, it was
solely through the instigation of the arch-rebel
Mind. In this case Mind denied its treaty of co-
36
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
operation with its partner and ignored Life's
claim to help in her living. The immemorial
privileges of the ancient sovereignty of Life are
too often flouted by the irreverent Mind; in fact,-
all through the course of this alliance there are
constant cases of interference with each other's
functions, often with unpleasant and even fatal
results. But in spite of this, or very often because
of this antagonism, the new current of Man's evo-
lution is bringing a wealth to his harbour infinitely
beyond the dream of the creatures of monstrous
flesh.
The manner in which Man appeared in Life's
kingdom was in itself a protest and a challenge,
the challenge of Jack to the Giant. He carried in
his body the declaration of mistrust against the
crowding of burdensome implements of physical
progress. His Mind spoke to the naked man,
"Fear not" ; and he stood alone facing the menace
of a heavy brigade of formidable muscles. His
own puny muscles cried out in despair, and he had
to invent for himself in a novel manner and in a
new spirit of evolution. This at once gave him his
promotion from the passive destiny of the animal
to the aristocracy of Man* He began to create his
further body, his outer organs the workers which
served him and yet did not directly claim a share
of his life. Some of the earliest in his list were
bows and arrows. Had this change been under-
37
THE RELIGION OF MAN
taken by the physical process of evolution, modify-
ing his arms in a slow and gradual manner, it
might have resulted in burdensome and ungainly
apparatus. Possibly, however, I am unfair, and
the dexterity and grace which Life's technical in-
stinct possesses might have changed his arm into
a shooting medium in a perfect manner and with
a beautiful form. In that case our lyrical literature
to-day would have sung in praise of its fascination,
not only for a consummate skill in hunting victims,
but also for a similar mischief in a metaphorical
sense. But even in the service of lyrics it would
show some limitation. For instance, the arms that
would specialize in shooting would be awkward in
wielding a pen or stringing a lute. But the great
advantage in the latest method of human evolution
lies in the fact that Man's additional new limbs,
like bows and arrows, have become detached. They
never tie his arms to any exclusive advantage of
efficiency.
The elephant's trunk, the tiger's paws, the claws
of the mole, have combined their best expressions
in' the human arms, which are much weaker in
their original capacity than those limbs I have
mentioned. It would have been a hugely cumber-
some practical joke if the combination of animal
limbs had had a simultaneous location In the hu-
man organism through some overzeal in biological
inventiveness.
38
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
The first great economy resulting from the new
programme was the relief of the physical burden,
which means the maximum efficiency with the
minimum pressure of taxation upon the vital re-
sources of the body. Another mission of benefit
was this, that it absolved the Spirit of Life in
Man's case from the necessity of specialization for
the sake of limited success. This has encouraged
Man to dream of the possibility of combining in
his single person the fish, the bird and the fleet-
footed animal that walks on land. Man desired in
his completeness to be the one great representative
of multiform life, not through wearisome subjec-
tion to the haphazard gropings of natural selection,
but by the purposeful selection of opportunities
with the help of his reasoning mind. It enables
the schoolboy who is given a pen-knife on his
birthday to have the advantage over the tiger in
the fact that it does not take him- a million years
to obtain its possession, nor another million years
for its removal, when the instrument proves un-
necessary or dangerous. The human mind has
compressed ages into a few years for the acquisi-
tion of steel-made claws. The only cause of anxiety
is that the instrument and the temperament which
uses it may not keep pace in perfect harmony. In
the tiger, the claws and the temperament which
only a tiger should possess have had a synchronous
development, and in no single tiger is any malad-
THE RELIGION OF MAN
justment possible between its nails and its tigerli-
ness. But the human boy, who grows a claw in the
form of a pen-knife, may not at the same time
develop the proper temperament necessary for its
use which only a man ought to have. The new
organs that to-day are being added as a supple-
ment to Man's original vital stock are too quick
and too numerous for his inner nature to develop
its own simultaneous concordance with them, and
thus we see everywhere innumerable schoolboys in
human society playing pranks with their own and
other people's lives and welfare by means of newly
acquired pen-knives which have not had time to
become humanized.
One thing, I am sure, must have been noticed
that the original plot of the drama is changed, and
the mother Spirit of Life has retired into the back-
ground, giving full prominence, in the third act,
to the Spirit of Man though the dowager queen,
from her inner apartment, still renders necessary
help. It is the consciousness in Man of his own
creative personality which has ushered in this new
regime in Life's kingdom. And from now onwards
Man's attempts are directed fully to capture the
government and make his own Code of Legislation
prevail without a break. We have seen in India
those who are called mystics, impatient of the con-
tinued regency of mother Nature in their own
40
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
body, winning for their will by a concentration of
inner forces the vital regions with which our mas-
terful minds have no direct path of communi-
cation.
But the most important fact that has come into
prominence along with the change of direction
in our evolution, is the possession of a Spirit which
has its enormous capital with a surplus far in
excess of the requirements of the biological animal
in Man. Some overflowing influence led us over
the strict boundaries of living, and offered to us an
open space where Man's thoughts and dreams
could have their holidays. Holidays are for gods
who have their joy in creation. In Life's primitive
paradise, where the mission was merely to live,
any luck which came to the creatures entered in
from outside by the donations of chance; they
lived on perpetual charity, by turns petted and
kicked on the back by physical Providence. Beg-
gars never can have harmony among themselves;
they are envious of one another, mutually suspi-
cious, like dogs living upon their master's favour,
showing their teeth, growling, barking, trying to
tear one another. This is what Science describes
as the struggle for existence. This beggars' para-
dise lacked peace ; I am sure the suitors for special
favour from fate lived in constant preparedness,
inventing and multiplying armaments.
41
THE RELIGION OF MAN
But above the din of the clamour and scramble
rises the voice of the Angel of Surplus, of leisure,
of detachment from the compelling claim of
physical need, saying to men, "Rejoice". From his
original serfdom as a creature Man takes his right
seat as a creator. Whereas, before, his incessant
appeal has been to get, now at last the call comes
to him to give. His God, whose help he was in
the habit of asking, now stands Himself at his door
and asks for his offerings. As an animal, he is still
dependent upon Nature; as a Man, he is a sover-
eign who builds his world and rules it
And there, at this point, comes his religion,
whereby he realizes himself in the perspective of
the infinite. There is a remarkable verse in the
Atharva Veda which says: "Righteousness, truth,
great endeavours, empire, religion, enterprise,
heroism and prosperity, the past and the future,
dwell in the surpassing strength of the sur-
plus."
What is purely physical has its limits like the
shell of an egg ; the liberation is there in the atmos-
phere of the infinite, which is indefinable, invisible.
Religion can have no meaning in the enclosure of
mere physical or material interest; it is in the sur-
plus we carry around our personality the surplus
which is like the atmosphere of the earth, bringing
to her a constant circulation of light and life and
delightfulness*
42
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
I have said in a poem of mine that when the
child is detached from its mother's womb it finds
its mother in a real relationship whose truth is in
freedom. Man in his detachment has realized him-
self in a wider and deeper relationship with the
universe. In his moral life he has the sense of his
obligation and his freedom at the same time, and
this is goodness. In his spiritual life his sense of
the union and the will which is free has its cul-
mination in love. The freedom of opportunity he
wins for himself in Nature's region by uniting his
power with Nature's forces. The freedom of social
relationship he attains through owning responsi-
bility to his community, thus gaining its collective
power for his own welfare. In the freedom of con-
sciousness he realizes the sense of his unity with
his larger being, finding fulfilment in the dedicated
life of an ever-progressive truth and ever-active
love.
The first detachment achieved by Man is physi-
cal. It represents his freedom from the aecessity
of developing the power of his senses and limbs
in the limited area of his own physiology, having
for itself an unbounded background with an im-
mense result in consequence. Nature's original
intention was that Man should have the allowance
of his sight-power ample enough for his surround-
ings and a little over. But to have to develop an
astronomical telescope on our skull would cause
43
THE RELIGION OF MAN
a worse crisis of bankruptcy than it did to the
Mammoth whose densely foolish body indulged in
an extravagance of tusks. A snail carries its house
on its back and therefore the material, the shape
and the weight have to be strictly limited to the
capacity of the body. But fortunately Man's house
need not grow on the foundation of his bones and
occupy his flesh. Owing to this detachment, his
ambition knows no check to its daring in the di-
mension and strength of his dwellings. Since his
shelter does not depend upon his body, it survives
him. This fact greatly affects the man who builds
a house, generating in his mind a sense of the eter-
nal in his creative work. And this background of
the boundless surplus of time encourages architec-
ture, which seeks a universal value overcoming the
miserliness of the present need.
I have already mentioned a stage which Life
reached when the units of single cells formed them-
selves into larger units, each consisting of a multi-
tude. It was not merely an aggregation, but had
a mysterious unity of inter-relationship, complex
in character, with differences within of forms and
function. We can never know concretely what this
relation means, There are gaps between the units,
but they do not stop the binding force that per-
meates the whole. There is a future for the whole
which is in its growth, but in order to bring this
44
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
about each unit works and dies to make room for
the next worker. While the unit has the right to
claim the glory of the whole, yet individually it
cannot share the entire wealth that occupies a his-
tory yet to be completed.
Of all creatures Man has reached that multicel-
lular character in a perfect manner, not only in his
body but in his personality. For centuries his evo-
lution has been the evolution of a consciousness
that tries to be liberated from the bonds of indi-
vidual separateness and to comprehend in its rela-
tionship a wholeness which may be named Man.
This relationship, which has been dimly instinc-
tive, is ever struggling to be fully aware of itself.
Physical evolution sought for efficiency in a per-
fect communication with the physical world; the
evolution of Man's consciousness sought for truth
in a perfect harmony with the world of personality.
There are those who will say that the idea of
humanity is an abstraction, subjective in character*
It must be confessed that the concrete objective-
ness of this living truth cannot be proved to its
own units. They can never see its entireness from
outside; for they are one with it The individual
cells of our body have their separate lives; but they
never have the opportunity of observing the body
as a whole with its past, present and future. If
these cells have the power of reasoning (which
45
THE RELIGION OF MAN
they may have for aught we know) they have the
right to argue that the idea of the body has no
objective foundation in fact, and though there is
a mysterious sense of attraction and mutual influ-
ence running through them, these are nothing posi-
tively real ; the sole reality which is provable is in
the isolation of these cells made by gaps that can
never be crossed or bridged.
We know something about a system of explosive
atoms whirling separately in a space which is im-
mense compared to their own dimension. Yet we
do not know why they should appear to us a solid
piece of radiant mineral. And if there is an
onlooker who at one glance can have the view of
the immense time and space occupied by innumer-
able human individuals engaged in evolving a
common history, the positive truth of their solidar-
ity will be concretely evident to him and not the
negative fact of their separateness.
The reality of a piece of iron is not provable
if we take the evidence of the atom ; the only proof
is that I see it as a bit of iron, and that it has cer-
tain reactions upon my consciousness. Any being
from, say, Orion, who has the sight to see the atoms
and not the iron, has the right to say that we human
beings suffer from an age-long epidemic of hallu-
cination. We need not quarrel with him but go
on using the iron as it appears to us. Seers there
have been who have said "Vedahametam", "I see",
46
THE CREATIVE SPIRIT
and lived a life according to that vision. f And
though our own sight may be blind we have ever
bowed our head to them in reverence.
However, whatever name our logic may give to
the truth of human unity, the fact can never be
ignored that we have our greatest delight when
we realize ourselves in others, and this is the defi-
nition of love. This love gives us the testimony of
the great whole, which is the complete and final
truth of man. It offers us the immense field where
we can have our release from the sole monarchy
of hunger, of the growling voice, snarling teeth and
tearing claws, from the dominance of the limited
material means, the source of cruel envy and
ignoble deception, where the largest wealth of the
human soul has been produced through sympathy
and co-operation ; through disinterested pursuit of
knowledge that recognizes no limit and is unafraid
of all time-honoured tabus; through a strenuous
cultivation of intelligence for service that knows
no distinction of colour and clime. The Spirit of
Love, dwelling in the boundless realm of the sur-
plus, emancipates our consciousness from the illu-
sory bond of the separateness of self; it is ever
trying to spread its illumination in the human
world. This is the spirit of civilization, which in
all its best endeavour invokes our supreme Being
for the only bond of unity that leads us to truth,
namely, that of righteousness:
47
THE RELIGION OF MAN
Ya efco varno bahudha saktiyogat
varnan anekan nihitartho dadhati
vichaitti chante viavamadau sa devah
sa no budhya subhaya samyunaktu.
"He who is one, above all colours, and who with his manifold
power supplies the inherent needs of men of all colours, who
is in the beginning and in the end of the world, is divine, and
may he unite us in a relationship of good will."
CHAPTER III
THE SURPLUS IN MAN
THERE are certain verses from the Atharva Veda
in which the poet discusses his idea of Man, indi-
cating some transcendental meaning that can be
translated as follows :
"Who was it that imparted form to man, gave him majesty,
movement, manifestation and character, inspired him with wis-
dom, music and dancing? When his body was raised upwards
he found also the oblique sides and all other directions in him
he who is the Person, the citadel of the infinite being."
Tasmad vai vidvan purushamidan brahmeti manyate.
"And therefore the wise man knoweth this person as Brahma."
Sanatanam enam ahur utadya syat punarnavah.
"Ancient they call him, and yet he is renewed even now
to-day."
In the very beginning of his career Man asserted
in his bodily structure his first proclamation of
freedom against the established rule of Nature.
At a certain bend in the path of evolution he
refused to remain a four-footed creature, and the
position which he made his body to assume carried
with it a permanent gesture of insubordination.
For there could be no question that it was Nature's
49
THE RELIGION OF MAN
own plan to provide all land-walking mammals
with two pairs of legs, evenly distributed along
their lengthy trunk heavily weighted with a head
at the end. This was the amicable compromise
made with the earth when threatened by its con-
servative downward force, which extorts taxes for
all movements. The fact that man gave up such an
obviously sensible arrangement proves his inborn
mania for repeated reforms of constitution, for
pelting amendments at every resolution proposed
by Providence.
If we found a four-legged table stalking about
upright upon two of its stumps, the remaining two
foolishly dangling by its sides, we should be afraid
that it was either a nightmare or some supernormal
caprice of that piece of furniture, indulging in a
practical joke upon the carpenter's idea of fitness.
The like absurd behaviour of Man's anatomy
encourages us to guess that he was born under the
influence of some comet of contradiction that
forces its eccentric path against orbits regulated by
Nature. And it is significant that Man should per-
sist in his foolhardiness, in spite of the penalty he
pays for opposing the orthodox rule of animal
locomotion. He reduces by half the help of an easy
balance of his muscles. He is ready to pass his
infancy tottering through perilous experiments in
making progress upon insufficient support, and
followed all through his life by liability to sudden
50
THE SURPLUS IN MAN
downfalls resulting in tragic or ludicrous conse-
quences from which law-abiding quadrupeds are
free. This was his great venture, the relinquish-
ment of a secure position of his limbs, which he
could comfortably have retained in return for
humbly salaaming the all-powerful dust at every
step.
This capacity to stand erect has given our body
its freedom of posture, making it easy for us to
turn on all sides and realize ourselves at the centre
of things. Physically, it symbolizes the fact that
while animals have for their progress the prolonga-
tion of a narrow line Man has the enlargement of
a circle. As a centre he finds his meaning in a wide
perspective, and realizes himself in the magnitude
of his circumference.
As one freedom leads to another, Man's eyesight
also found a wider scope. I do not mean any
enhancement of its physical power, which in many
predatory animals has a better power of adjust-
ment to light But from the higher vantage of our
physical watch-tower we have gained our view,
which is not merely information about the location
of things but their inter-relation and their unity*
But the best means of the expression of his physi-
cal freedom gained by Man in his vertical position
is through the emancipation of his hands. In our
bodily organization these have attained the high-
est dignity for their skill) their grace, their useful
Si
THE RELIGION OF MAN
activities, as well as for those that are above all
uses. They are the most detached of all our limbs.
Once they had their menial vocation as our car-
riers, but raised from their position as shudras,
they at once attained responsible status as our
helpers. When instead of keeping them under-
neath us we offered them their place at our side,
they revealed capacities that helped us to cross the
boundaries of animal nature.
This freedom of view and freedom of action
have been accompanied by an analogous mental
freedom in Man through his imagination, which
is the most distinctly human of all our faculties. It
is there to help a creature who has been left unfin-
ished by his designer, undraped, undecorated,
unarmoured and without weapons, and, what is
worse, ridden by a Mind whose energies for the
most part are not tamed and tempered into some
difficult ideal of completeness upon a background
which is bare. Like all artists he has the freedom
to make mistakes, to launch into desperate adven-
tures contradicting and torturing his psychology
or physiological normality. This freedom is a
divine gift lent to the mortals who are untutored
and undisciplined ; and therefore the path of their
creative progress is strewn with debris of devasta-
tion, and stages of their perfection haunted by
apparitions of startling deformities. But, all the
same, the very training of creation ever makes
5*
THE SURPLUS IN MAN
clear an aim which cannot be in any isolated freak
of an individual mind or in that which is only
limited to the strictly necessary.
Just as our eyesight enables us to include the
individual fact of ourselves in the surrounding
view, our imagination makes us intensely conscious
of a life we must live which transcends the indi-
vidual life and contradicts the biological meaning
of the instinct of self-preservation. It works at
the surplus, and extending beyond the reservation
plots of our daily life builds there the guest cham-
bers of priceless value to offer hospitality to the
world-spirit of Man. We have such an honoured
right to be the host when our spirit is a free spirit
not chained to the animal self. For free spirit is
godly and alone can claim kinship with God.
Every true freedom that we may attain in any
direction broadens our path of self-realization,
which is in superseding the self. The unimagina-
tive repetition of life within a safe restriction im-
posed by Nature may be good for the animal, but
never for Man, who has the responsibility to out-
live his life in order to live in truth.
And freedom in its process of creation gives rise
to perpetual suggestions of something further than
its obvious purpose. For freedom is for expressing
the infinite; it imposes limits in its works, not to
keep them in permanence but to break them over
and over again, and to reveal the endless in unend-
53
THE RELIGION OF MAN
Ing surprises. This implies a history of constant
regeneration, a series of fresh beginnings and con-
tinual challenges to the old in order to reach a more
and more perfect harmony with some fundamental
ideal of truth.
Our civilization, in the constant struggle for
a great Further, runs through abrupt chapters of
spasmodic divergences. It nearly always begins
its new ventures with a cataclysm ; for its changes
are not mere seasonal changes of ideas gliding
through varied periods of flowers and fruit They
are surprises lying in ambuscade provoking revo-
lutionary adjustments. They are changes in the
dynasty of living ideals the ideals that are active
in consolidating their dominion with strongholds
of physical and mental habits, of symbols, cere-
monials and adornments* But however violent
may be the revolutions happening in whatever
time or country, they never completely detach
themselves from a common centre. They find their
places in a history which is one.
The civilizations evolved in India or China,
Persia or Judaea, Greece or Rome, are like several
mountain peaks having different altitude, tempera-
ture, flora and fauna, and yet belonging to the
same chain of hills. There are no absolute barriers
of communication between them; their foundation
is the same and they affect the meteorology of an
atmosphere which is common to us all. This is at
54
THE SURPLUS IN MAN
the root of the meaning of the great teacher who
said he would not seek his own salvation if all
men were not saved ; for we all belong to a divine
unity, from which our great-souled men have
their direct inspiration; they feel it immediately
in their own personality, and they proclaim in their
life, "I am one with the Supreme, with the Death-
less, with the Perfect".
Man, in his mission to create himself, tries to
develop in his mind an image of his truth accord-
ing to an idea which he believes to be universal,
and is sure that any expression given to it will per-
sist through all time. This is a mentality abso-
lutely superfluous for biological existence. It rep-
resents his struggle for a life which is not limited
to his body. For our physical life has its thread of
unity in the memory of the past, whereas this ideal
life dwells in the prospective memory of the
future* In the records of past civilizations, un-
earthed from the closed records of dust, we find
pathetic efforts to make their memories uninter-
rupted through the ages, like the effort of a child
who sets adrift on a paper boat his dream of reach-
ing the distant unknown. But why is this desire?
Only because we feel instinctively that in our ideal
life we must touch all men and all times through
the manifestation of a truth which is eternal and
universal. And in order to give expression to it
materials are gathered that are excellent and a
55
THE RELIGION O MAN
manner of execution that has a permanent value*
For we mortals must offer homage to the Man of
the everlasting life. In order to do so, we are ex-
pected to pay a great deal more than we need for
mere living, and in the attempt we often exhaust
our very means of livelihood, and even life itself.
The ideal picture which a savage imagines of
himself requires glaring paints and gorgeous finer-
ies, a rowdiness in ornaments and even grotesque
deformities of over-wrought extravagance* He
tries to sublimate his individual self into a mani-
festation which he believes to have the majesty of
the ideal Man. He is not satisfied with what he is
in his natural limitations ; he irresistibly feels some-
thing beyond the evident fact of himself which
only could give him worth. It is the principle of
power, which, according to his present mental
stage, is the meaning of the universal reality
whereto he belongs, and it is his pious duty to give
expression to it even at the cost of his happiness.
In fact, through it he becomes one with his God,
for him his God is nothing greater than power.
The savage takes immense trouble, and often suf-
fers tortures, in order to offer in himself a repre-
sentation of power in conspicuous colours and dis-
torted shapes, in acts of relentless cruelty and in-
temperate bravado of self-indulgence. Such an
appearance of rude grandiosity evokes a loyal rev-
erence in the members of his community and a
56
THE SURPLUS IN MAN
fear which gives them an aesthetic satisfaction
because it illuminates for them the picture of a
character which, as far as they know, belongs to
ideal humanity. They wish to see in him not an
individual, but the Man in whom they all are rep*
resented. Therefore, in spite of their sufferings,
they enjoy being overwhelmed by his exaggerations
and dominated by a will fearfully evident owing
to its magnificent caprice in inflicting injuries.
They symbolize their idea of unlimited wilfulness
in their gods by ascribing to them physical and
moral enormities in their anatomical idiosyncracy
and virulent vindictiveness crying for the blood of
victims, in personal preferences indiscriminate in
the choice of recipients and methods of rewards
and punishments. In fact, these gods could never
be blamed for the least wavering in their conduct
owing to any scrupulousness accompanied by the
emotion of pity so often derided as sentimentalism
by virile intellects of the present day.
However crude all this may be, it proves that
Man has a feeling that he is truly represented in
something which exceeds himself. He is aware
that he is not imperfect, but incomplete. He knows
that in himself some meaning has yet to be real-
ized. We do not feel the wonder of it, because it
seems so natural to us that barbarism in Man is
not absolute, that its limits are like the limits of
the horizon. The call is deep in his mind the
57
THE RELIGION OF MAN
call of his own inner truth, which is beyond his
direct knowledge and analytical logic. And indi-
viduals are born who have no doubt of the truth
of this transcendental Man. As our consciousness
more and more comprehends it, new valuations are
developed in us, new depths and delicacies of de-
light, a sober dignity of expression through elimi-
nation of tawdriness, of frenzied emotions, of all
violence in shape, colour, words, or behaviour, of
the dark mentality of Ku-Klux-Klanism.
Each age reveals its personality as dreamer in
its great expressions that carry it across surging
centuries to the continental plateau of permanent
human history. These expressions may not be con-
sciously religious, but indirectly they belong to
Man's religion. For they are the outcome of the
consciousness of the greater Man in the individual
men of the race. This consciousness finds its man-
ifestation in science, philosophy and the arts, in
social ethics, in all things that carry their ultimate
value in themselves. These are truly spiritual and
they should all be consciously co-ordinated in one
great religion of Man, representing his ceaseless
endeavour to reach the perfect in great thoughts
and deeds and dreams, in immortal symbols of art,
revealing his aspiration for rising in dignity of
being.
I had the occasion to visit the ruins of ancient
Rome, the relics of human yearning towards the
58
THE SURPLUS IN MAN
immense, the sight of which teases our mind out
of thought. Does it not prove that in the vision
of a great Roman Empire the creative imagination
of the people rejoiced in the revelation of its trans-
cendental humanity? It was the idea of an Empire
which was not merely for opening an outlet to the
pent-up pressure of over-population, or widening
its field of commercial profit, but which existed as
a concrete representation of the majesty of Roman
personality, the soul of the people dreaming of a
world-wide creation of its own for a fit habitation
of the Ideal Man. It was Rome's titanic endeavour
to answer the eternal question as to what Man
truly was, as Man. And any answer given in earn-
est falls within the realm of religion, whatever
may be its character ; and this answer, in its truth,
belongs not only to any particular people but to
us all. It may be that Rome did not give the most
perfect answer possible when she fought for her
place as a world-builder of human history, but she
revealed the marvellous vigour of the indomitable
human spirit which could say, "Bhumaiva suk-
hamf "Greatness is happiness itself". Her Em-
pire has been sundered and shattered, but her faith
in the sublimity of man still persists in one of the
vast strata of human geology. And this faith was
the true spirit of her religion, which had been dim
in the tradition of her formal theology, merely
supplying her with an emotional pastime and not
THE RELIGION OF MAN
with spiritual inspiration. In fact this theology
fell far below her personality, and for that reason
it went against her religion, whose mission was to
reveal her humanity on the background of the
eternal. Let us seek the religion of this and other
people not in their gods but in Man, who dreamed
of his own infinity and majestically worked for all
time, defying danger and death.
Since the dim nebula of consciousness in Life's
world became intensified into a centre of self in
Man, his history began to unfold its rapid chap-
ters ; for it is the history of his strenuous answers
in various forms to the question rising from this
conscious self of his, "What am I?" Man is not
happy or contented as the animals are ; for his hap-
piness and his peace depend upon the truth of his
answer. The animal attains his success in a physi-
cal sufficiency that satisfies his nature. When a
crocodile finds no obstruction in behaving like an
orthodox crocodile he grins and grows and has no
cause to complain. It is truism to say that Man
also must behave like a man in order to find his
truth. But he is sorely puzzled and asks in be-
wilderment: "What is it to be like a man? What
am I?" It is not left to the tiger to discover what
is his own nature as a tiger, nor, for the matter of
that, to choose a special colour for his coat accord-
ing to his taste.
But Man has taken centuries to discuss the ques-
60
THE SURPLUS IN MAN
tion of his own true nature and has not yet come
to a conclusion. He has been building up elab-
orate religions to convince himself, against his nat-
ural inclinations, of the paradox that he is not what
he is but something greater. What is significant
about these efforts is the fact that in order to know
himself truly Man in his religion cultivates the
vision of a Being who exceeds him in truth and
with whom also he has his kinship. These religions
differ in details and often in their moral signifi-
cance, but they have a common tendency. In them
men seek their own supreme value, which they call
divine, in some personality anthropomorphic in
character. The Mind, which is abnormally scien-
tific, scoffs at this ; but it should know that religion
is not essentially cosmic or even abstract; it finds
itself when it touches the Brahma in man; other-
wise it has no justification to exist.
It must be admitted that such a human element
introduces into our religion a mentality that often
has its danger in aberrations that are intellectually
blind, morally reprehensible and aesthetically
repellent But these are wrong answers; they dis-
tort the truth of man and, like all mistakes in
sociology, in economics or politics, they have to
be fought against and overcome. Their truth has
to be judged by the standard of human perfection
and not by some arbitrary injunction that refuses
to be confirmed by the tribunal of the human con-
6*
THE RELIGION OF MAN
science. And great religions are the outcome of
great revolutions in this direction causing funda-
mental changes of our attitude. These religions
invariably made their appearance as a protest
against the earlier creeds which had been unhu-
man, where ritualistic observances had become
more important and outer compulsions more im-
perious. These creeds were, as I have said before,
cults of power; they had their value for us, not
helping us to become perfect through truth, but to
grow formidable through possessions and magic
control of the deity.
But possibly I am doing injustice to our ances-
tors. It is more likely that they worshipped power
not merely because of its utility, but because they,
in their way, recognized it as truth with which
their own power had its communication and in
which it found its fulfilment They must have nat-
urally felt that this power was the power of will
behind nature, and not some impersonal insanity
that unaccountably always stumbled upon correct
results. For it would have been the greatest depth
of imbecility on their part had they brought their
homage to an abstraction, mindless, heartless and
purposeless; in fact, infinitely below them in its
manifestation.
CHAPTER IV
SPIRITUAL UNION
WHEN Man's preoccupation with the means of
livelihood became less insistent he had the leisure
to come to the mystery of his own self, and could
not help feeling that the truth of his personality
had both its relationship and its perfection in an
endless world of humanity. His religion, which in
the beginning had its cosmic background of power,
came to a higher stage when it found its back-
ground in the human truth of personality. It must
not be thought that in this channel it was narrow-
ing the range of our consciousness of the infinite.
The negative idea of the infinite is merely an
indefinite enlargement of the limits of things; in
fact, a perpetual postponement of infinitude. I am
told that mathematics has come to the conclusion
that our world belongs to a space which is limited.
It does not make us feel disconsolate. We do not
miss very much and need not have a low opinion
of space even if a straight line cannot remain
straight and has an eternal tendency to come back
to the point from which it started. In the Hindu
Scripture the universe is described as an egg; that
63
THB RELIGION OF MAN
is to say, for the human mind it has its circular
shell of limitation. The Hindu Scripture goes still
further and says that time also is not continuous
and our world repeatedly comes to an end to begin
its cycle once again. In other words, in the region
of time and space infinity consists of ever-revolving
finitude.
But the positive aspect of the infinite is in
advaitam, in an absolute unity, in which compre-
hension of the multitude is not as in an outer re-
ceptacle but as in an inner perfection that per-
meates and exceeds its contents, like the beauty in
a lotus which is ineffably more than all the con-
stituents of the flower. It is not the magnitude of
extension but an intense quality of harmony which
evokes in us the positive sense of the infinite in our
joy, in our love. For advaitam is anandam; the
infinite One is infinite Love. For those among
whom the spiritual sense is dull, the desire for
realization is reduced to physical possession, an
actual grasping in space. This longing for magni-
tude becomes not an aspiration towards the great,
but a mania for the big. But true spiritual realiza-
tion is not through augmentation of possession in
dimension or number. The truth that is infinite
dwells in the ideal of unity which we find in the
deeper relatedness. This truth of realization is not
in space, it can only be realized in one's own inner
spirit
64
SPIRITUAL UNION
Ekadhaivanudrashtavyam etat aprameyam dhruvam.
(This infinite and eternal has to be known as One.)
Para akasat aja atma "this birthless spirit is
beyond space". For it is Purushahj it is the
"Person".
The special mental attitude which India has in
her religion is made clear by the word Yoga, whose
meaning is to effect union. Union has its signifi-
cance not in the realm of to have, but in that of
to be. To gain truth is to admit its separateness,
but to be true is to become one with truth. Some
religions, which deal with our relationship with
God, assure us of reward if that relationship be
kept true. This reward has an objective value. It
gives us some reason outside ourselves for pursuing
the prescribed path. We have such religions also
in India. But those that have attained a greater
height aspire for their fulfilment in union with
Narayana, the supreme Reality of Man, which is
divine.
Our union with this spirit is not to be attained
through the mind. For our mind belongs to the
department of economy in the human organism.
It carefully husbands our consciousness for its own
range of reason, within which to permit our rela-
tionship with the phenomenal world* But it is the
object of Yoga to help us to transcend the limits
built up by Mind. On the occasions when these
are overcome, our inner self is filled with joy,
65
THE RELIGION OF MAN
which indicates that through such freedom we
come into touch with the Reality that is an end in
itself and therefore is bliss.
Once man had his vision of the infinite in the
universal Light, and he offered his worship to the
sun. He also offered his service to the fire with
oblations. Then he felt the infinite in Life, which
is Time in its creative aspect, and he said, "Yat
*kincha yadidam sarvam prana ejati nihsritam/* "all
that there is comes out of life and vibrates in it".
He was sure of it, being conscious of Life's mystery
immediately in himself as the principle of purpose,
as the organized will, the source of all his activi-
ties. His interpretation of the ultimate character
of truth relied upon the suggestion that Life had
brought to him, and not the non-living which is
dumb. And then he came deeper into his being
and said "Raso vai sah" 9 "the infinite is love itself ",
the eternal spirit of joy. His religion, which is
in his realization of the infinite, began its journey
from the impersonal dyaus, "the sky", wherein
light had its manifestation; then came to Life,
which represented the force of self-creation in
time, and ended in purushak, the "Person", in
whom dwells timeless love. It said, "Tarn vedyam
purusham ve-dah", "Know him the Person who is
to be realized", "Yatha ma vo mrityug parivya~
thah" "So that death may not cause you sorrow".
For this Person is deathless in whom the individual
66
S PIRITUAL UNION
person has his immortal truth. Of him it is said :
"Esha devo uisvakarma mahatma sada jananam
hridaye sannivishatah". "This is the divine being,
the world-worker, who is the Great Soul ever
dwelling inherent in the hearts of all people."
Ya etad vidur amritas te bhavanti. "Those who
realize him, transcend the limits of mortality"
not in duration of time, but in perfection of truth.
Our union with a Being whose activity is world-
wide and who dwells in the heart of humanity
cannot be a passive one. In order to be united with
Him we have to divest our work of selfishness and
become visvakarma, "the world-worker", we must
work for all. When I use the words "for all", I
do not mean for a countless number of individuals.
All work that is good, however small in extent, is
universal in character. Such work makes for a
realization of Fisvakarma, "the World-Worker"
who works for all. In order to be one with this
Mahatma, "the Great Soul", one must cultivate
the greatness of soul which identifies itself with
the soul of all peoples and not merely with that of
one's own. This helps us to understand what
Buddha has described as Brahmavihara, "living in
the infinite". He says:
"Do not deceive each other, do not despise any-
body anywhere, never in anger wish anyone to suf-
fer through your body, words or thoughts. Like a
mother maintaining her only son with her own
67
THE RELIGION OF MAN
life, keep thy immeasurable loving thought for all
creatures.
"Above thee, below thee, on all sides of thee,
keep on all the world thy sympathy and immeas-
urable loving thought which is without obstruc-
tion, without any wish to injure, without enmity.
"To be dwelling in such contemplation while
standing, walking, sitting or lying down, until
sleep overcomes thee, is called living in Brahma".
This proves that Buddha's idea of the infinite
was not the idea of a spirit of an unbounded cos-
mic activity, but the infinite whose meaning is in
the positive ideal of goodness and love, which
cannot be otherwise than human. By being chari-
table, good and loving, you do not realize the
infinite, in the stars or rocks, but the infinite re-
vealed in Man. Buddha's teaching speaks of Nir-
vana as the highest end. To understand its real
character we have to know the path of its attain-
ment, which is not merely through the negation of
evil thoughts and deeds but through the elimination
of all limits to love. It must mean the sublimation
of self in a truth which is love itself, which unites
in its bosom all those to whom we must offer our
sympathy and service.
When somebody asked Buddha about the orig-
inal cause of existence he sternly said that such
questioning was futile and irrelevant Did he not
mean that it went beyond the human sphere as
68
SPIRITUAL UNION
our goal that though such a question might
legitimately be asked in the region of cosmic phi-
losophy or science, it had nothing to do with man's
dharma, man's inner nature, in which love finds
its utter fulfilment, in which all his sacrifice ends
in an eternal gain, in which the putting out of the
lamplight is no loss because there is the all-pervad-
ing light of the sun. And did those who listened
to the great teacher merely hear his words and
understand his doctrines? No, they directly felt
in him what he was preaching, in the living lan-
guage of his own person, the ultimate truth of
Man.
It is significant that all great religions have their
historic origin in persons who represented in their
life a truth which was not cosmic and unmoral,
but human and good. They rescued religion from
the magic stronghold of demon force and brought
it into the inner heart of humanity, into a fulfil-
ment not confined to some exclusive good fortune
of the individual but to the welfare of all men.
This was not for the spiritual ecstasy of lonely
souls, but for the spiritual emancipation of all
races. They came as the messengers of Man to
men of all countries and spoke of the salvation that
could only be reached by the perfecting of our
relationship with Man the Eternal, Man the
Divine. Whatever might be their doctrines of
God, or some dogmas that they borrowed from
69
THE RELIGION OF MAN
their own time and tradition, their life and teach-
ing had the deeper implication of a Being who is
the infinite in Man, the Father, the Friend, the
Lover, whose service must be realized through
serving all mankind. For the God in Man de-
pends upon men's service and men's love for his
own love's fulfilment
The question was once asked in the shade of
the ancient forest of India :
Kasmai devaya havisha vidhema?
"Who is the God to whom we must bring our oblation?"
That question is still ours, and to answer it we
must know in the depth of our love and the
maturity of our wisdom what man is know him
not only in sympathy but in science, in the joy of
creation and in the pain of heroism ; tena tyaktena
bhunjitha, "enjoy him through sacrifice" the sac-
rifice that comes of love ; ma gridhah, "covet not" ;
for greed diverts your mind to that illusion in you
which is your separate self and diverts it from
truth in which you represent the parama purushah f
"the supreme Person".
Our greed diverts our consciousness to materials
away from that supreme value of truth which is
the quality of the universal being. The gulf thus
created by the receding stream of the soul we try
to replenish with a continuous stream of wealth,
which may have the power to fill but not the power
70
SPIRITUAL UNION
to unite and recreate. Therefore the gap is danger-
ously concealed under the glittering quicksand oi
things, which by their own weight cause a sudden
subsidence while we are in the depths of sleep.
The real tragedy, however, does not lie in the
risk of our material security but in the obscuration
of Man himself in the human world. In the crea-
tive activities of his soul Man realizes his sur-
roundings as his larger self, instinct with his own
life and love. But in his ambition he deforms and
defiles it with the callous handling of his voracity.
His world of utility assuming a gigantic propor-
tion, reacts upon his inner nature and hynotically
suggests to him a scheme of the universe which is
an abstract system. In such a world there can be
no question of mukti, the freedom in truth, because
it is a solidly solitary fact, a cage with no sky
beyond it. In all appearance our world is a closed
world of hard facts ; it is like a seed with its tough
cover. But within this enclosure is working our
silent cry of life for mukti, even when its possibil-
ity is darkly silent When some huge overgrown
temptation tramples into stillness this living aspi-
ration then does civilization die like a seed thai
has lost its urging for germination. And this mukh
is in the truth that dwells in the ideal man.
CHAPTER V
THE PROPHET
IN my introduction I have stated that the universe
to which we are related through our sense percep-
tion, reason or imagination, is necessarily Man's
universe- Our physical self gains strength and
success through its correct relationship in knowl-
edge and practice with its physical aspect. The
mysteries of all its phenomena are generalized by
man as laws which have their harmony with his
rational mind. In the primitive period of our his-
tory Man's physical dealings with the external
world were most important for the maintenance
of his life, the life which he has in common with
other creatures, and therefore the first expression
of his religion was physical it came from his
sense of wonder and awe at the manifestations of
power in Nature and his attempt to win it for him-
self and his tribe by magical incantations and rites.
In other words his religion tried to gain a perfect
communion with the mysterious magic of Nature's
forces through his own power of magic. Then came
the time when he had the freedom of leisure to
divert his mind to his inner nature and the mystery
72
THE PROPHET
of his own personality gained for him its highest
importance. And instinctively his personal self
sought its fulfilment in the truth of a higher per-
sonality. In the history of religion our realization
of its nature has gone through many changes even
like our realization of the nature of the material
world. Our method of worship has followed the
course of such changes, but its evolution has been
from the external and magical towards the moral
and spiritual significance.
The first profound record of the change of direc-
tion in Man's religion we find in the message of
the great prophet in Persia, Zarathustra, and as
usual it was accompanied by a revolution. In a
later period the same thing happened in India,
and it is evident that the history of this religious
struggle lies embedded in the epic Mahabharata
associated with the name of Krishna and the teach-
ings of Bhagavadgita.
The most important of all outstanding facts of
Iranian history is the religious reform brought
about by Zarathustra. There can be hardly any
question that he was the first man we know who
gave a definitely moral character and direction to
religion and at the same time preached the doctrine
of monotheism which offered an eternal founda-
tion of reality to goodness as an ideal of perfection.
All religions of the primitive type try to keep men
bound with regulations of external observances.
73
THE RELIGION OF MAN
Zarathustra was the greatest of all the pioneer
prophets who showed the path of freedom to man,
the freedom of moral choice, the freedom from the
blind obedience to unmeaning injunctions, the
freedom from the multiplicity of shrines which
draw our worship away from the single-minded
chastity of devotion.
To most of us it sounds like a truism to-day
when we are told that the moral goodness of a
deed comes from the goodness of intention. But
it is a truth which once came to Man like a revela-
tion of light in the darkness and it has not yet
reached all the obscure corners of humanity. We
still see around us men who fearfully follow, hop-
ing thereby to gain merit, the path of blind formal-
ism, which has no living moral source in the mind.
This will make us understand the greatness of
Zarathustra. Though surrounded by believers in
magical rites, he proclaimed in those dark days of
unreason that religion has its truth in its moral
significance, not in external practices of imagin-
ary value; that its value is in upholding man in
his life of good thoughts, good words and good
deeds.
"The prophet' *, says Dr. Geiger, "qualifies his
religion as 'unheard of words' (Yasna 31. i) or as
a "mystery" (Y. 48. 3.) because he himself regards
it as a religion quite distinct from the belief of the
people hitherto. The revelation he announces is
74
THE PROPHET
to him no longer a matter of sentiment, no longer
a merely undefined presentiment and conception
of the Godhead, but a matter of intellect, of spirit-
ual perception and knowledge. This is of great
importance, for there are probably not many re-
ligions of so high antiquity in which this funda-
mental doctrine, that religion is a knowledge or
learning, a science of what is true, is so precisely
declared as in the tenets of the Gathas. It is the
unbelieving that are unknowing; on the contrary,
the believing are learned because they have pene-
trated into this knowledge."
It may be incidentally mentioned here, as show-
ing the parallel to this in the development of In-
dian religious thought, that all through the Upan-
ishad spiritual truth is termed with a repeated
emphasis, vidya, knowledge, . which has for its
opposite avidya, acceptance of error born of un-
reason.
The outer expression of truth reaches its white
light of simplicity through its inner realization.
True simplicity is the physiognomy of perfection.
In the primitive stages of spiritual growth, when
man is dimly aware of the mystery of the infinite
in his life and the world, when he does not fully
know the inward character of his relationship with
this truth, his first feeling is either of dread, or of
greed of gain. This drives him into wild exag-
geration in worship, frenzied convulsions of cere-
75
THE RELIGION OF MAN
monialism. But in Zarathustra's teachings, which
are best reflected in his Gathas, we have hardly
any mention of the ritualism of worship. Con-
duct and its moral motives have there received
almost the sole attention.
The orthodox Persian form of worship in an-
cient Iran included animal sacrifices and offering
of haema to the daevas. That all these should be
discountenanced by Zarathustra not only shows
his courage, but the strength of his realization of
the Supreme Being as spirit. We are told that it
has been mentioned by Plutarch that "Zarathustra
taught the Persians to sacrifice to Ahura Mazda,
Vows and thanksgivings' ". The distance between
faith in the efficiency of the bloodstained magi-
cal rites, and cultivation of the moral and spiritual
ideals as the true form of worship is immense. It
is amazing to see how Zarathustra was the first
among men who crossed this distance with a cer-
tainty of realization which imparted such a fer-
vour of faith to his life and his words. The truth
which filled his mind was not a thing which he
borrowed from books or received from teachers;
he did not come to it by following a prescribed
path of tradition, but it came to him as an illu-
mination of his entire life, almost like a commu-
nication of his universal self to his personal self,
and he proclaimed this utmost immediacy of his
knowledge when he said:
76
THE PROPHET
When I conceived of Thee, O Mazda, as the very First and
the Last, as the most Adorable One, as the Father of the Good
Thought, as the Creator of Truth and Right, as the Lord Judge
of our actions in life, then I made a place for Thee in my very
eyes. Yasna 31,8 (Translation D. J. Irani).
It was the direct stirring of his soul which made
him say:
Thus do I announce the Greatest of all ! I weave my songs of
praise for him through Truth, helpful and beneficent of all that
live. Let Ahura Mazda listen to them with his Holy Spirit,
for the Good Mind instructed me to adore Him; by his wis-
dom let Him teach me about what is best. Yasna 45.6 (Trans-
lation D. J, Irani).
The truth which is not reached through the ana-
lytical process of reasoning and does not depend for
proof on some corroboration of outward facts or
the prevalent faith and practice of the people
the truth which comes like an inspiration out of
context with its surroundings brings with it an
assurance that it has been sent from an inner source
of divine wisdom, that the individual who has
realized it is specially inspired and therefore has
his responsibility as a direct medium of communi-
cation of Divine Truth.
As long as man deals with his God as the dis-
penser of benefits only to those of His worshippers
who know the secret of propitiating Him, he tries
to keep Him for his own self or for the tribe to
which he belongs* But directly the moral nature,
77
THE RELIGION OF MAN
that is to say, the humanity of God is apprehended,
man realizes his divine self in his religion, his God
is no longer an outsider to be propitiated for a
special concession. The consciousness of God
transcends the limitations of race and gathers to-
gether all human beings within one spiritual circle
of union. Zarathustra was the first prophet who
emancipated religion from the exclusive narrow-
ness of the tribal God, the God of a chosen people,
and offered it the universal Man, This is a great
fact in the history of religion. The Master said,
when the enlightenment came to him :
Verily I believed Thee, O Ahura Mazda, to be the Supreme
Benevolent Providence, when Sraosha came to me with the
Good Mind, when first I received and became wise with your
words. And though the task be difficult, though woe may come
to me, I shall proclaim to all mankind Thy message, which
Thou declarest to be the best. Yasna 43 (Translation D. J.
Irani).
He prays to Mazda :
This I ask Thee, tell me truly, O Ahura, the religion that
is best for all mankind, the religion, which based on truth,
should prosper in all that is ours, the religion which establishes
our actions in order and justice by the Divine songs of Perfect
Piety, which has for its intelligent desire of desires, the desire
for Thee, O Mazda* Yasna 44.10 (Translation D, J. Irani).
With the undoubted assurance and hope of one
who has got a direct vision of Truth he speaks to
the world ;
78
THE PROPHET
Hearken unto me, Ye who come from near and from far!
Listen for I shall speak forth now; ponder well over all things,
weigh my words with care and clear thought. Never shall the
false teacher destroy this world for a second time, for his tongue
stands mute, his creed exposed. Yasna 45.1 (Translation D.
J. Irani),
I think it can be said without doubt that such a
high conception of religion, uttered in such a
clear note of affirmation with a sure note of con-
viction that it is a truth of the ultimate ideal of
perfection which must be revealed to all humanity,
even at the cost of martyrdom, is unique in the
history of any religion belonging to such a remote
dawn of civilization.
There was a time when, along with other Aryan
peoples, the Persian also worshipped the elemental
gods of Nature, whose favour was not to be won
by any moral duty performed or service of love.
That in fact was the crude beginning of the scien-
tific spirit trying to unlock the hidden sources of
power in nature. But through it all there must
have been some current of deeper desire, which
constantly contradicted the cult of power and in-
dicated worlds of inner good, infinitely more
precious than material gain. Its voice was not
strong at first nor was it heeded by the majority
of the people ; but its influences, like the life within
the seed, were silently working.
Then comes the great prophet; and in his life
and mind the hidden fire of truth suddenly bursts
79
THE RELIGION OF MAN
out into flame. The best in the people works for
long obscure ages in hints and whispers till it finds
its voice which can never again be silenced. For
that voice becomes the voice of Man, no longer
confined to a particular time or people. It works
across intervals of silence and oblivion, depression
and defeat, and comes out again with its conquer-
ing call. It is a call to the fighter, the fighter
against untruth, against all that lures away man's
spirit from its high mission of freedom into the
meshes of materialism.
Zarathustra's voice is still a living voice, not
alone a matter of academic interest for historical
scholars who deal with the facts of the past; nor
merely the guide of a small community of men in
the daily details of their life. Rather, of all teach-
ers Zarathustra was the first who addressed his
words to all humanity, regardless of distance of
space or time. He was not like a cave-dweller who,
by some chance of friction, had lighted a lamp
and, fearing lest it could not be shared with all,
secured it with a miser's care for his own domestic
use. But he was the watcher in the night, who
stood on the lonely peak facing the East and broke
out singing the paeans of light to the sleeping world
when the sun came out on the brim of the horizon.
The Sun of Truth is for all, he declared its light
is to unite the far and the near. Such a message
So
THE PROPHET
always arouses the antagonism of those whose
habits have become nocturnal, whose vested in-
terest is in the darkness. And there was a bitter
fight in the lifetime of the prophet between his
followers and the others who were addicted to the
ceremonies that had tradition on their side, and
not truth.
We are told that "Zarathustra was descended
from a kingly family", and also that the first con-
verts to his doctrine were of the ruling caste. But
the priesthood, "the Kavis and the Karapans, often
succeeded in bringing the rulers over to their side".
So we find that, in this fight, the princes of the
land divided themselves into two opposite parties
as we find in India in the Kurukshetra War.
It has been a matter of supreme satisfaction to
me to realize that the purification of faith which
was the mission of the great teachers in both com-
munities, in Persia and in India, followed a similar
line. We have already seen how Zarathustra spir-
itualized the meaning of sacrifice, which in former
days consisted in external ritualism entailing
bloodshed. The same thing we find in the Gita,
in which the meaning of the word Yajna has been
translated into a higher significance than it had
in its crude form.
According to the Gita, the deeds that are done
solely for the sake of self fetter our soul; the
81
THE RELIGION OF MAN
disinterested action, performed for the sake of the
giving up of self, is the true sacrifice. For creation
itself comes of the self-sacrifice of Brahma, which
has no other purpose; and therefore, in our per-
formance of the duty which is self-sacrificing, we
realize the spirit of Brahma.
The Ideal of Zoroastrian Persia is distinctly
ethical. It sends its call to men to work together
with the Eternal Spirit of Good in spreading and
maintaining Kshathra, the kingdom of righteous-
ness, against all attacks of evil. This ideal gives
us our place as collaborators with God in distribu-
ting his blessings over the world.
Clear is this to the man of wisdom as to the man who care-
fully thinks;
He who upholds Truth with all the might of his power,
He who upholds Truth the utmost in his words and deed,
He, indeed, is Thy most valued helper, O Mazda Ahura!
Ifasna 31.22 (Translation D. J. Irani)
It is a fact of supreme moment to us that the
human world is in an incessant state of war be-
tween that which will save us and that which will
drag us into the abyss of disaster. Our one hope
lies in the fact that Ahura Mazda is on our side
if we choose the right course.
The active heroic aspect of this religion reflects
the character of the people themselves, who later
on spread conquests far and wide and built up
great empires by the might of their sword. They
82
THE PROP HEX
accepted this world in all seriousness. They had
their zest in life and confidence in their own
strength. They belonged to the western half of
Asia and their great influence travelled through
the neighbouring civilization of Judaea towards
the Western Continent Their ideal was the ideal
of the fighter. By force of will and deeds of sacri-
fice they were to conquer haurvatat welfare in
this world, and ameratat immortality in the
other. This is the best ideal in the West, the great
truth of fight. For paradise has to be gained
through conquest. That sacred task is for the
heroes, who are to take the right side in the battle,
and the right weapons.
There was a heroic period in Indian history,
when this holy spirit of fight was invoked by the
greatest poet of the Sanskrit Literature. It is not
to be wondered at that his ideal of fight was simi-
lar to the ideal that Zarathustra preached. The
problem with which his poem starts is that para-
dise has to be rescued by the hero from its invasion
by evil beings. This is the eternal problem of
man. The evil spirit is exultant and paradise is
lost when Sati, the spirit of Sat (Reality), is dis-
united from Siva, the Spirit of Goodness. The
Real and the Good must meet in wedlock if the
hero is to take his birth in order to save all that is
true and beautiful. When the union was attempted
through the agency of passion, the anger of God
83
THE RELIGION OF MAN
was aroused and the result was a tragedy of dis-
appointment At last, by purification through
penance, the wedding was effected, the hero was
born who fought against the forces of evil and
paradise was regained. This is a poem of the ideal
of the moral fight, whose first great prophet was
Zarathustra.
We must admit that this ideal has taken a
stronger hold upon the life of man in the West
than in India the West, where the vigour of life
receives its fullest support from Nature and the
excess of energy finds its delight in ceaseless
activities. But everywhere in the world, the un-
realized ideal is a force of disaster. It gathers its
strength in secret even in the heart of prosperity,
kills the soul first and then drives men to their
utter ruin. When the aggressive activity of will,
which naturally accompanies physical vigour, fails
to accept the responsibility of its ideal, it breeds
unappeasable greed for material gain, leads to
unmeaning slavery of things, till amidst a raging
conflagration of clashing interests the tower of am-
bition topples down to the dust
And for this, the prophetic voice of Zarathustra
reminds us that all human activities must have an
ideal goal, which is an end to itself, and therefore
is peace, is immortality. It is the House of Songs,
the realization of love, which comes through
strenuous service of goodness.
84
THE PROPHET
All the joys of life which Thou boldest, O Mazda, the joys
that were, the joys that are, and the joys that shall be, Thou
dost apportion all in Thy love for us.
We, on the other hand, in the tropical East, who
have no surplus of physical energy inevitably over-
flowing in outer activities, also have our own ideal
given to us. Our course is not so much through the
constant readiness to fight in the battle of the good
and evil, as through the inner concentration of
mind, through pacifying the turbulence of desire,
to reach that serenity of the infinite in our being
which leads to the harmony in the all. Here, like-
wise, the unrealized ideal pursues us with its
malediction. As the activities of a vigorous vitality
may become unmeaning, and thereupon smother
the soul with a mere multiplicity of material, so
the peace of the extinguished desire may become
the peace of death ; and the inner world, in which
we would dwell, become a world of incoherent
dreams.
The negative process of curbing desire and con-
trolling passion is only for saving our energy from
dissipation and directing it into its proper chan-
nel. If the path of the channel we have chosen
runs withinwards, it also must have its expression
in action, not for any ulterior reward, but for the
proving of its own truth. If the test of action is
removed, if our realization grows purely sub j Ac-
tive, then it may become like travelling in a desert
9s
THE RELIGION OF MAN
in the night, going round and round the same cir-
cle, imagining all the while that we are following
the straight path of purpose.
This is why the prophet of the Gita in the first
place says:
Who so forsakes all desires and goeth onwards free from yearn-
ings, selfless and without egoism, he goeth to peace.
But he does not stop here, he adds :
Surrendering all actions to me, with Thy thoughts resting on
the Supreme Self, from hope and egoism freed, and of mental
fever cured, engage in battle.
Action there must be, fight we must have not
the fight of passion and desire, or arrogant self-
assertion, but of duty done in the presence of the
Eternal, the disinterested fight of the serene soul
that helps us in our union with the Supreme
Being.
In this, the teaching of Zarathustra, his sacred
gospel of fight finds its unity. The end of the fight
he preaches is in the House of Songs, in the
symphony of spiritual union. He sings :
Ye, who wish to be allied to the Good Mind, to be friend with
Truth, Ye who desire to sustain the Holy Cause, down with
all anger and violence, away with all ill-will and strife! Such
benevolent men, O Mazda, I shall take to the House of Songs !
The detailed facts of history, which are the battle-
ground of the learned, are not my province. I am
86
THE PROP HEX
a singer myself, and I am ever attracted by the
strains that come forth from the House of Songs.
When the streams of ideals that flow from the
East and from the West mingle their murmur in
some profound harmony of meaning it delights
my soul.
In the realm of material property men are jeal-
ously proud of their possessions and their exclusive
rights. Unfortunately there are quarrelsome men
who bring that pride of acquisition, the worldli-
ness of sectarianism, even into the region of spirit-
ual truth. Would it be sane, if the man in China
should lay claim to the ownership of the sun be-
cause he can prove the earlier sunrise in his own
country?
For myself, I feel proud whenever I find that
the best in the world have their fundamental
agreement. It is their function to unite and to
dissuade the small from bristling-up, like prickly
shrubs, in the pride of the minute points of their
differences, only to hurt one another.
87
CHAPTER VI
THE VISION
I HOPE that my readers have understood, as they
have read these pages, that I am neither a scholar
nor a philosopher. They should not expect from
me fruits gathered from a wide field of studies or
wealth brought by a mind trained in the difficult
exploration of knowledge. Fortunately for me the
subject of religion gains in interest and value by
the experience of the individuals who earnestly
believe in its truth. This is my apology for offer-
ing a part of the story of my life which has always
realized its religion through a process of growth
and not by the help of inheritance or importation.
Man has made the entire geography of the earth
his own, ignoring the boundaries of climate ; for,
unlike the lion and the reindeer, he has the power
to create his special skin and temperature, includ-
ing his unscrupulous power of borrowing the skins
of the indigenous inhabitants and misappropriat-
ing their fats.
His kingdom is also continually extending in
time through a great surplus in his power of mem-
ory, to which is linked his immense facility of bor-
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V1OJ.V/JN
rowing the treasure of the past from all quarters
of the world. He dwells in a universe of history,
in an environment of continuous remembrance.
The animal occupies time only through the multi-
plication of its own race, but man through the
memorials of his mind, raised along the pilgrim-
age of progress. The stupendousness of his knowl-
edge and wisdom is due to their roots spreading
into and drawing sap from the far-reaching area
of history.
Man has his other dwelling place in the realm
of inner realization, in the element of an imma-
terial value. This is a world where from the sub-
terranean soil of his mind his consciousness often,
like a seed, unexpectedly sends up sprouts into the
heart of a luminous freedom, and the individual
is made to realize his truth in the universal Man.
I hope it may prove of interest if I give an account
of my own personal experience of a sudden spir-
itual outburst from within me which is like the
underground current of a perennial stream unex-
pectedly welling up on the surface.
I was born in a family which, at that time, was
earnestly developing a monotheistic religion based
upon the philosophy of the Upanishad, Somehow
my mind at first remained coldly aloof, absolutely
uninfluenced by any religion whatever. It was
through an idiosyncrasy of my temperament thai
I refused to accept any religious teaching merelj
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THE RELIGION" OF MAN
because people in my surroundings believed it to
be true. I could not persuade myself to imagine
that I had a religion because everybody whom I
might trust believed in its value.
Thus my mind was brought up in an atmos-
phere of freedom freedom from the dominance
of any creed that had its sanction in the definite
authority of some scripture, or in the teaching of
some organized body of worshippers. And, there-
fore, the man who questions me has every right to
distrust my vision and reject my testimony. In
such a case, the authority of some particular book
venerated by a large number of men may have
greater weight than the assertion of an individ-
ual, and therefore I never claim any right to
preach.
When I look back upon those days, it seems to
me that unconsciously I followed the path of my
Vedic ancestors, and was inspired by the tropical
sky with its suggestion of an uttermost Beyond.
The wonder of the gathering clouds hanging heavy
with the unshed rain, of the sudden sweep of
storms arousing vehement gestures along the line
of coconut trees, the fierce loneliness of the blaz-
ing summer noon, the silent sunrise behind the
dewy veil of autumn morning, kept my mind with
the intimacy of a pervasive companionship.
Then came my initiation ceremony of Brahmin-
hood when the gayatri verse of meditation was
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THE VISION
given to me, whose meaning, according to the ex-
planation I had, runs as follows:
"Let me contemplate the adorable splendour of Him who
created the earth, the air and the starry spheres, and sends the
power of comprehension within our minds."
This produced a sense of serene exaltation in me,
the daily meditation upon the infinite being which
unites in one stream of creation my mind and the
outer world. Though to-day I find no difficulty
in realizing this being as an infinite personality
in whom the subject and object are perfectly
reconciled, at that time the idea to me was vague.
Therefore the current of feeling that it aroused in
my mind was indefinite, like the circulation of air
an atmosphere which needed a definite world to
complete itself and satisfy me. For it is evident
that my religion is a poet's religion, and neither
that of an orthodox man of piety nor that of a
theologian. Its touch comes to me through the
same unseen and trackless channel as does the in-
spiration of my songs. My religious life has fol-
lowed the same mysterious line of growth as has
my poetical life. Somehow they are wedded to
each other and, though their betrothal had a long
period of ceremony, it was kept secret to me.
When I was eighteen, a sudden spring breeze
of religious experience for the first time came to
my life and passed away leaving in my memory a
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
direct message of spiritual reality. One day while
I stood watching at early dawn the sun sending
out its rays from behind the trees, I suddenly felt
as if some ancient mist had in a moment lifted
from my sight, and the morning light on the face
of the world revealed an inner radiance of joy.
The invisible screen of the commonplace was re-
moved from all things and all men, and their ulti-
mate significance was intensified in my mind ; and
this is the definition of beauty. That which was
memorable in this experience was its human mes-
sage, the sudden expansion of my consciousness
in the super-personal world of man. The poem I
wrote on the first day of my surprise was named
"The Awakening of the Waterfall". The water-
fall, whose spirit lay dormant in its ice-bound iso-
lation, was touched by the sun and, bursting in
a cataract of freedom, it found its finality in an
unending sacrifice, in a continual union with the
sea. After four days the vision passed away, and
the lid hung down upon my inner sight In the
dark, the world once again put on its disguise of
the obscurity of an ordinary fact
When I grew older and was employed in a
responsible work in some villages I took my place
in a neighbourhood where the current of time ran
slow and joys and sorrows had their simple and
elemental shades and lights. The day which had
its special significance for me came with all its
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THE VISION
drifting trivialities of the commonplace life. The
ordinary work of my morning had come to its
close and before going to take my bath I stood for
a moment at my window, overlooking a market
place on the bank of a dry river bed, welcoming
the first flood of rain along its channel. Suddenly
I became conscious of a stirring of soul within
me. My world of experience in a moment seemed
to become lighted, and facts that were detached
and dim found a great unity of meaning. The feel-
ing which I had was like that which a man, grop-
ing through a fog without knowing his destination,
might feel when he suddenly discovers that he
stands before his own house.
I still remember the day in my childhood when
I was made to struggle across my lessons in a first
primer, strewn with isolated words smothered
under the burden of spelling. The morning hour
appeared to me like a once-illumined page, grown
dusty and faded, discoloured into irrelevant marks,
smudges and gaps, wearisome in its moth-eaten
meaninglessness. Suddenly I came to a rhymed
sentence of combined words, which may be trans-
lated thus "It rains, the leaves tremble". At once
I came to a world wherein I recovered my full
meaning. My mind touched the creative realm
of expression, and at that moment I was no longer
a mere student with his mind muffled by spelling
lessons, enclosed by classroom. The rhythmic pic-
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
ture of the tremulous leaves beaten by the rain
opened before my mind the world which does not
merely carry information, but a harmony with my
being. The unmeaning fragments lost their indi-
vidual isolation and my mind revelled in the unity
of a vision. In a similar manner, on that morning
in the village, the facts of my life suddenly ap-
peared to me in a luminous unity of truth. All
things that had seemed like vagrant waves were
revealed to my mind in relation to a boundless sea.
I felt sure that some Being who comprehended me
and my world was seeking his best expression in
all my experiences, uniting them into an ever-
widening individuality which is a spiritual work
of art.
To this Being I was responsible ; for the creation
in me is his as well as mine. It may be that it was
the same creative Mind that is shaping the uni-
verse to its eternal idea; but in me as a person it
had one of its special centres of a personal relation-
ship growing into a deepening consciousness. I
had my sorrows that left their memory in a long
burning track across my days, but I felt at that
moment that in them I lent myself to a travail of
creation that ever exceeded my own personal
bounds like stars which in their individual fire-
bursts are lighting the history of the universe. It
gave me a great joy to feel in my life detachment
at the idea of a mystery of a meeting of the two in
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THE VISION
a creative comradeship. I felt that I had found my
religion at last, the religion of Man, in which the
infinite became defined in humanity and came
close to me so as to need my love and co-opera-
tion.
This idea of mine found at a later date its ex-
pression in some of my poems addressed to what I
called Jivan devata, the Lord of my life. Fully
aware of my awkwardness in dealing with a for-
eign language, with some hesitation I give a trans-
lation, being sure that any evidence revealed
through the self-recording instrument of poetry is
more authentic than answers extorted through
conscious questionings :
Thou who art the innermost Spirit of my being,
art thou pleased,
Lord of my life?
For I gave to thee my cup
filled with all the pain and delight
that the crushed grapes of my heart had surrendered,
I wove with the rhythm of colours and songs the cover
for thy bed,
and with the molten gold of my desires
I fashioned playthings for thy passing hours.
I know not why thou chosest me for thy partner,
Lord of my life !
Didst thou store my days and nights,
my deeds and dreams for the alchemy of thy art,
and string in the chain of thy music my songs of autumn
and spring,
and gather the flowers from my mature moments for thy
crown?
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
I see thine eyes gazing at the dark of my heart,
Lord of my life,
I wonder if my failures and wrongs are forgiven.
For many were my days without service
and nights of f orgetf ulness ;
futile were the flowers that faded in the shade not
offered to thee.
Often the tired strings of my lute
slackened at the strain of thy tunes.
And often at the ruin of wasted hours
my desolate evenings were filled with tears.
But have my days come to their end at last,
Lord of my life,
while my arms round thee grow limp,
my kisses losing their truth?
Then break up the meeting of this languid day.
Renew the old in me in fresh forms of delight;
and let the wedding come once again
in a new ceremony of life.
You will understand from this how unconsciously
I had been travelling towards the realization which
I stumbled upon in an idle moment on a day in
July, when morning clouds thickened on the east-
ern horizon and a caressing shadow lay on the
tremulous bamboo branches, while an excited
group of village boys was noisily dragging from
the bank an old fishing boat ; and I cannot tell how
at that moment an unexpected train of thoughts
ran across my mind like a strange caravan carry-
ing the wealth of an unknown kingdom.
From my infancy I had a keen sensitiveness
which kept my mind tingling with consciousness
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THE VISION
of the world around me, natural and human. We
had a small garden attached to our house ; it was
a fairyland to me, where miracles of beauty were
of everyday occurrence.
Almost every morning in the early hour of the
dusk, I would run out from my bed in a great
hurry to greet the first pink flush of the dawn
through the shivering branches of the palm trees
which stood in a line along the garden boundary,
while the grass glistened as the dew-drops caught
the earliest tremor of the morning breeze. The
sky seemed to bring to me the call of a personal
companionship, and all my heart my whole body
in fact used to drink in at a draught the over-
flowing light and peace of those silent hours. I
was anxious never to miss a single morning, be-
cause each one was precious to me, more precious
than gold to the miser. I am certain that I felt a
larger meaning of my own self when the barrier
vanished between me and what was beyond myself.
I had been blessed with that sense of wonder
which gives a child his right of entry into the
treasure house of mystery in the depth of exist-
ence. My studies in the school I neglected, because
they rudely dismembered me from the context of
my world and I felt miserable, like a caged rabbit
in a biological institute. This, perhaps, will ex-
plain the meaning of my religion. This world was
living to me, intimately close to my life, perme-
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
ated by a subtle touch of kinship which enhanced
the value of my own being.
It is true that this world also has its impersonal
aspect of truth which is pursued by the man of
impersonal science. The father has his personal
relationship with his son ; but as a doctor he may
detach the fact of a son from that relationship and
let the child become an abstraction to him, only a
living body with its physiological functions. It
cannot be said that if through the constant pursuit
of his vocations he altogether discards the personal
element in his relation to his son he reaches a
greater truth as a doctor than he does as a father.
The scientific knowledge of his son is information
about a fact, and not the realization of a truth. In
his intimate feeling for his son he touches an ulti-
mate truth the truth of relationship, the truth
of a harmony in the universe, the fundamental
principle of creation. It is not merely the number
of protons and electrons which represents the truth
of an element; it is the mystery of their relation-
ship which cannot be analysed. We are made con-
scious of this truth of relationship immediately
within us in our love, in our joy; and from this
experience of ours we have the right to say that
the Supreme One, who relates all things, compre-
hends the universe, is all love the love that is the
highest truth being the most perfect relationship.
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THE VISION
I still remember the shock of repulsion I re-
ceived as a child when some medical student
brought to me a piece of a human windpipe and
tried to excite my admiration for its structure. He
tried to convince me that it was the source of the
beautiful human voice. But I could not bear the
artisan to occupy the throne that was for the artist
who concealed the machinery and revealed the
creation in its ineffable unity. God does not care
to keep exposed the record of his power written in
geological inscriptions, but he is proudly glad of
the expression of beauty which he spreads on the
green grass, in the flowers, in the play of the col-
ours on the clouds, in the murmuring music of run-
ning water.
I had a vague notion as to who or what it was
that touched my heart's chords, like the infant
which does not know its mother's name, or who
or what she is. The feeling which I always had was
a deep satisfaction of personality that flowed into
my nature through living channels of communica-
tion from all sides.
I am afraid that the scientist may remind me
that to lose sight of the distinction between life
and non-life, the human and the non-human, is a
sign of the primitive mind. While admitting it,
let me hope that it is not an utter condemnation,
but rather the contrary. It may be a true instinct
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
of Science itself, an instinctive logic, which makes
the primitive mind think that humanity has be-
come possible as a fact only because of a universal
human truth which has harmony with its reason,
with its will. In the details of our universe there
are some differences that may be described as
non-human, but not in their essence. The bones
are different from the muscles, but they are organi-
cally one in the body. Our feeling of joy, our
imagination, realizes a profound organic unity
with the universe comprehended by the human
mind. Without minimizing the differences that
are in detailed manifestations, there is nothing
wrong in trusting the mind, which is occasionally
made intensely conscious of an all-pervading
personality answering to the personality of
man.
The details of reality must be studied in their
differences by Science, but it can never know the
character of the grand unity of relationship per-
vading it, which can only be realized immediately
by the human spirit. And therefore it is the
primal imagination of man the imagination
which is fresh and immediate in its experiences
that exclaims in a poet's verse:
Wisdom and spirit of the universe!
Thou soul, that art the eternity of thought,
And giv'st to forms and images a breath
And everlasting motion.
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THE VISION
And in another poet's words it speaks of
That light whose smile kindles the universe,
That Beauty in which all things work and move.
The theologian may follow the scientist and shake
his head and say that all that I have written is
pantheism. But let us not indulge in an idolatry
of name and dethrone living truth in its favour.
When I say that I am a man, it is implied by that
word that there is such a thing as a general idea
of Man which persistently manifests itself in every
particular human being, who is different from all
other individuals. If we lazily label such a belief
as "pananthropy" and divert our thoughts from
its mysteriousness by such a title it does not help
us much. Let me assert my faith by saying that
this world, consisting of what we call animate and
inanimate things, has found its culmination in
man, its best expression. Man, as a creation, repre-
sents the Creator, and this is why of all creatures
it has been possible for him to comprehend this
world in his knowledge and in his feeling and in
his imagination, to realize in his individual spirit a
union with a Spirit that is everywhere.
There is an illustration that I have made use of
in which I supposed that a stranger from some
other planet has paid a visit to our earth and hap-
pens to hear the sound of a human voice on the
gramophone. All that is obvious to him and most
IOI
THE RELIGION OF MAN
seemingly active, is the revolving disc. He is un-
able to discover the personal truth that lies behind,
and so might accept the impersonal scientific fact
of the disc as final the fact that could be touched
and measured. He would wonder how it could be
possible for a machine to speak to the soul. Then,
if in pursuing the mystery, he should suddenly
come to the heart of the music through a meeting
with the composer, he would at once understand
the meaning of that music as a personal communi-
cation.
That which merely gives us information can be
explained in terms of measurement, but that which
gives us joy cannot be explained by the facts of a
mere grouping of atoms and molecules. Some-
where in the arrangement of this world there seems
to be a great concern about giving us delight,
which shows that, in the universe, over and above
the meaning of matter and forces, there is a mes-
sage conveyed through the magic touch of person-
ality. This touch cannot be analysed, it can only
be felt. We cannot prove it any more than the
man from the other planet could prove to the sat-
isfaction of his fellows the personality which re-
mained invisible, but which, through the machin-
ery, spoke direct to the heart
Is it merely because the rose is round and pink
that it gives me more satisfaction than the gold
which could buy me the necessities of life, or any
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THE VISION
number of slaves? One may, at the outset, deny
the truth that a rose gives more delight than a
piece of gold. But such an objector must remem-
ber that I am not speaking of artificial values. If
we had to cross a desert whose sand was made of
gold, then the cruel glitter of these dead particles
would become a terror for us, and the sight of a
rose would bring to us the music of paradise.
The final meaning of the delight which we find
in a rose can never be in the roundness of its
petals, just as the final meaning of the joy of music
cannot be in a gramophone disc. Somehow we feel
that through a rose the language of love reached
our heart. Do we not carry a rose to our beloved
because in it is already embodied a message which,
unlike our language of words, cannot be analysed.
Through this gift of a rose we utilize a universal
language of joy for our own purposes of expres-
sion.
Fortunately for me a collection of old lyrical
poems composed by the poets of the Vaishnava
sect came to my hand when I was young. I became
aware of some underlying idea deep in the obvious
meaning of these love poems. I felt the joy of an
explorer who suddenly discovers the key to the
language lying hidden in the hieroglyphs which
are beautiful in themselves. I was sure that these
poets were speaking about the supreme Lover,
whose touch we experience in all our relations of
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
love the love of nature's beauty, of the animal,
the child, the comrade, the beloved, the love that
illuminates our consciousness of reality. They
sang of a love that ever flows through numerous
obstacles between men and Man the Divine, the
eternal relation which has the relationship of
mutual dependence for a fulfilment that needs
perfect union of individuals and the Universal.
The Vaishnava poet sings of the Lover who has
his flute which, with its different stops, gives out
the varied notes of beauty and love that are in
Nature and Man. These notes bring to us our
message of invitation. They eternally urge us to
come out from the seclusion of our self-centred
life into the realm of love and truth. Are we deaf
by nature, or is it that we have been deafened by
the claims of the world, of self-seeking, by the
clamorous noise of the market-place? We miss the
voice of the Lover, and we fight, we rob, we ex-
ploit the weak, we chuckle at our cleverness, when
we can appropriate for our use what is due to
others; we make our lives a desert by turning away
from our world that stream of love which pours
down from the blue sky and wells up from the
bosom of the earth.
In the region of Nature, by unlocking the secret
doors of the workshop department, one may come
to that dark hall where dwells the mechanic and
help to attain usefulness, but through it one can
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THE VISION
never attain finality. Here is the storehouse of
innumerable facts and, however necessary they
may be, they have not the treasure of fulfilment in
them. But the hall of union is there, where dwells
the Lover in the heart of existence. When a man
reaches it he at once realizes that he has come to
Truth, to immortality, and he is glad with a glad-
ness which is an end, and yet which has no end.
Mere information about facts, mere discovery
of power, belongs to the outside and not to the
inner soul of things. Gladness is the one criterion
of truth, and we know when we have touched
Truth by the music it gives, by the joy of greeting
it sends forth to the truth in us. That is the true
foundation of all religions. It is not as ether waves
that we receive light; the morning does not wait
for some scientist for its introduction to us. In
the same way we touch the infinite reality immedi-
ately within us only when we perceive the pure
truth of love or goodness, not through the explana-
tions of theologians, not through the erudite dis-
cussion of ethical doctrines.
I have already made the confession that my
religion is a poet's religion. All that I feel about
it is from vision and not from knowledge. Frankly,
I acknowledge that I cannot satisfactorily answer
any questions about evil, or about what happens
after death. Nevertheless, I am sure that there
have come moments in my own experience when
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
my soul has touched the infinite and has become
intensely conscious of it through the illumination
of joy. It has been said in our Upanishad that our
mind and our words come away baffled from the
Supreme Truth, but he who knows truth through
the immediate joy of his own soul is saved from
all doubts and fears.
In the night we stumble over things and become
acutely conscious of their individual separateness.
But the day reveals the greater unity which em-
braces them. The man whose inner vision is
bathed in an illumination of his consciousness at
once realizes the spiritual unity reigning supreme
over all differences. His mind no longer awk-
wardly stumbles over individual facts of separate-
ness in the human world, accepting them as final.
He realizes that peace is in the inner harmony
which dwells in truth and not in any outer adjust-
ments. He knows that beauty carries an eternal
assurance of our spiritual relationship to reality,
which waits for its perfection in the response of
our love.
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CHAPTER VII
THE MAN OF MY HEART
AT the outburst of an experience which is unusual,
such as happened to me in the beginning of my
youth, the puzzled mind seeks its explanation in
some settled foundation of that which is usual,
trying to adjust an unexpected inner message to an
organized belief which goes by the general name
of a religion. And, therefore, I naturally was
glad at that time of youth to accept from my father
the post of secretary to a special section of the
monotheistic church of which he was the leader. I
took part in its services mainly by composing
hymns which unconsciously took the many-
thumbed impression of the orthodox mind, a com-
posite smudge of tradition. Urged by my sense of
duty I strenuously persuaded myself to think that
my new mental attitude was in harmony with that
of the members of our association, although I con-
stantly stumbled upon obstacles and felt con-
straints that hurt me to the quick.
At last I came to discover that in my conduct I
was not strictly loyal to my religion, but only to
the religious institution. This latter represented
an artificial average, with its standard of truth at
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
its static minimum, jealous of any vital growth
that exceeded its limits. I have my conviction that
in religion, and also in the arts, that which is com-
mon to a group is not important Indeed, very
often it is a contagion of mutual imitation. After a
long struggle with the feeling that I was using a
mask to hide the living face of truth, I gave up my
connection with our church.
About this time, one day I chanced to hear a
song from a beggar belonging to the Baiil * sect
of Bengal We have in the modern Indian Re-
ligion deities of different names, forms and mythol-
ogy, some Vedic and others aboriginal. They
have their special sectarian idioms and associations
that give emotional satisfaction to those who are
accustomed to their hypnotic influences. Some of
them may have their aesthetic value to me and
others philosophical significance overcumbered by
exuberant distraction of legendary myths. But what
struck me in this simple song was a religious ex-
pression that was neither grossly concrete, full of
crude details, nor metaphysical in its rarified trans-
cendentalism. At the same time it was alive with
an emotional sincerity. It spoke of an intense
yearning of the heart for the divine which is in
Man and not in the temple, or scriptures, in
images and symbols. The worshipper addresses
his songs to the Man the ideal, and says:
1 See Appendix I.
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THE MAN OF MY HEART
Temples and mosques obstruct thy path,
and I fail to hear thy call or to move,
when the teachers and priest angrily crowd round me.
He does not follow any tradition of ceremony, but
only believes in love. According to him
Love is the magic stone, that transmutes by its touch greed into
sacrifice.
He goes on to say:
For the sake of this love heaven longs to become earth and gods
to become man.
Since then I have often tried to meet these people,
and sought to understand them through their songs,
which are their only form of worship. One is often
surprised to find in many of these verses a striking
originality of sentiment and diction; for, at their
best, they are spontaneously individual in their
expressions. One such song is a hymn to the Ever
Young. It exclaims:
O my flower buds, we worship the Young ;
for the Young is the source of the holy Ganges of life ;
from the Young flows the supreme bliss.
And it says:
We never offer ripe corn in the service of the Young,
nor fruit, nor seed,
but only the lotus bud which is of our own mind.
The young hour of the day, the morning,
is our time for the worship of Him.
from whose contemplation has sprung the Universe*
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
It calls the Spirit of the Young the Brahma
Kamal, "the infinite lotus". For it is something
which has perfection in its heart and yet ever
grows and unfolds its petals.
There have been men in India who never wrote
learned texts about the religion of Man but had
an overpowering desire and practical training for
its attainment They bore in their life the testi-
mony of their intimacy with the Person who is in
all persons, of Man the formless in the individual
forms of men. Rajjab, a poet-saint of medieval
India, says of Man:
God-man (nara-narayand) is thy definition, it is not a delusion
but truth. In thee the infinite seeks the finite, the perfect knowl-
edge seeks love, and when the form and the Formless (the indi-
vidual and the universal) are united love is fulfilled in devotion.
Ravidas, another poet of the same age, sings:
Thou seest me, O Divine Man (narahari}> and I see thee, and
our love becomes mutual.
Of this God-man a village poet of Bengal says:
He is within us, an unfathomable reality. We know him when
we unlock our own self and meet in a true love with all others.
A brother poet of his says:
Man seeks the man in me and I lose myself and run out.
And another singer sings of the Ideal Man, and
says:
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THE MAN OF MY HEART
How could the scripture know the meaning of the Lord who has
his play in the world of human forms?
Listen, O brother man (declares Chandidas), the truth of
man is the highest truth, there is no other truth above it.
All these are proofs of a direct perception of
humanity as an objective truth that rouses a pro-
found feeling of longing and love. This is very
unlike what we find in the intellectual cult of
humanity, which is like a body that has tragically
lost itself in the purgatory of shadows.
Wordsworth says:
We live by admiration, hope and love,
And ever as these are well and wisely fixed
In dignity of being we ascend.
It is for dignity of being that we aspire through
the expansion of our consciousness in a great real-
ity of man to which we belong. We realize it
through admiration and love, through hope that
soars beyond the actual, beyond our own span of
life into an endless time wherein we live the life of
all men.
This is the infinite perspective of human per-
sonality where man finds his religion. Science may
include in its field of knowledge the starry world
and the world beyond it; philosophy may try to
find some universal principle which is at the root
of all things, but religion inevitably concentrates
itself on humanity, which illumines our reason,
inspires our wisdom, stimulates our love, claims
in
THE RELIGION OF MAN
our intelligent service. There is an impersonal
idea, which we call law, discoverable by an imper-
sonal logic in its pursuit of the fathomless depth of
the hydrogen atom and the distant virgin worlds
clothed in eddying fire. But as the physiology of
our beloved is not our beloved, so this impersonal
law is not our God, the Pitritamah pitrinam, the
Father who is ultimate in all fathers and mothers,
of him we cannot say:
Tad viddhi pranipatena pariprasnena sevaya-
( Realize him by obeisance, by the desire to know, by service )
For this can only be relevant to the God who is
God and man at the same time; and if this faith be
blamed for being anthropomorphic, then Man is
to be blamed for being Man, and the lo^er for
loving his dear one as a person instead of as a
principle of psychology. We can never go beyond
Man in all that we know and feel, and a mendicant
singer of Bengal has said:
Our world is as it is in our comprehension; the thought and
existence are commingled. Everything would be lost in uncon-
sciousness if man were nought ; and when response comes to your
own call you know the meaning of reality.
According to him, what we call nature is not a
philosophical abstraction, not cosmos, but what is
revealed to man as nature. In fact it is included in
himself and therefore there is a commingling of
his mind with it, and in that he finds his <jwn
112
THE MAN OF MY HEART
being. He is truly lessened in humanity if he can-
not take it within him and through it feel the ful-
ness of his own existence. His arts and literature
are constantly giving expression to this intimate
communion of man with his world- And the Vedic
poet exclaims in his hymn to the sun :
Thou who nourishest the earth, who walkest alone, O Sun,
withdraw thy rays, reveal thy exceeding beauty to me and let
me realize that the Person who is there is the One who I am.
It is for us to realize the Person who is in the
heart of the All by the emancipated consciousness
of our own personality. We know that the highest
mission of science is to find the universe enveloped
by the human comprehension ; to see man's visva-
rupa, his great mental body, that touches the
extreme verge of time and space, that includes the
whole world within itself.
The original Aryans who came to India had for
their gods the deities of rain, wind, fire, the cosmic
forces which singularly enough found no definite
shapes in images. A time came when it was recog-
nized that individually they had no separate, un-
related power of their own, but there was one
infinite source of power which was named Brahma.
The cosmic divinity developed into an impersonal
idea ; what was physical grew into a metaphysical
abstraction, even as in modern science matter
vanishes into mathematics. And Brahma, accord-
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
ing to those Indians, could neither be apprehended
by mind nor described by words, even as matter in
its ultimate analysis proves to be.
However satisfactory that idea might be as the
unknowable principle relating to itself all the
phenomena that are non-personal, it left the per-
sonal man in a void of negation. It cannot be gain-
said that we can never realize things in this world
from inside, we can but know how they appear to
us. In fact, in all knowledge we know our own
self in its condition of knowledge. And religion
sought the highest value of man's existence in this
self. For this is the only truth of which he is
immediately conscious from within. And he said :
Purushanna para kinchit
sa kashthta sa para gatih
(Nothing is greater than the Person; he
is the supreme, he is the ultimate goal.)
It is a village poet of East Bengal who preaches in
a song the philosophical doctrine that the universe
has its reality in its relation to the Person, which I
translate in the following lines:
The sky and the earth are born of mine own eyes,
The hardness and softness, the cold and the heat are the products
of mine own body,
The sweet smell and the bad are of my own nostrils.
This poet sings of the Eternal Person within him,
coming out and appearing before his eyes, just as
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THE MAN OF MY HEART
the Vedic Rishi speaks of the Person, who is in
him, dwelling also in the heart of the sun :
I have seen the vision,
the vision of mine own revealing itself,
coming out from within me.
In India, there are those whose endeavour is to
merge completely their personal self in an imper-
sonal entity which is without any quality or defini-
tion ; to reach a condition wherein mind becomes
perfectly blank, losing all its activities. Those who
claim the right to speak about it say that this is the
purest state of consciousness, it is all joy and with-
out any object or content This is considered to
be the ultimate end of Yoga, the cult of union, thus
completely to identify one's being with the infinite
Being who is beyond all thoughts and words. Such
realization of transcendental consciousness accom-
panied by a perfect sense of bliss is a time-honoured
tradition in our country, carrying in it the positive
evidence which cannot be denied by any negative
argument of refutation. Without disputing its
truth I maintain that it may be valuable as a great
psychological experience but all the same it is not
religion, even as the knowledge of the ultimate state
of the atom is of no use to an artist who deals in
images in which atoms have taken forms. A cer-
tain condition of vacuum is needed for studying
the state of things in its original purity, and the
THE RELIGION OF MAN
same may be said of the human spirit; but the
original state is not necessarily the perfect state*
The concrete form is a more perfect manifestation
than the atom, and man is more perfect as a man
than where he vanishes in an original indefinite-
ness. This is why the Ishopanishat says : "Truth is
both finite and infinite at the same time, it moves
and yet moves not, it is in the distant, also in the
near, it is within all objects and without them."
This means that perfection as the ideal is im-
movable, but in its aspect of the real it constantly
grows towards completion, it moves. And I say of
the Supreme Man, that he is infinite in his essence,
he is finite in his manifestation in us the individu-
als. As the Ishopanishat declares, a man must live
his full term of life and work without greed, and
thus realize himself in the Being who is in all
beings. This means that he must reveal in his own
personality the Supreme Person by his disinterested
activities.
CHAPTER VIII
THE MUSIC MAKER
A PARTICLE of sand would be nothing if it did not
have its background in the whole physical world.
This grain of sand is known in its context of the
universe where we know all things through the
testimony of our senses. When I say the grain of
sand is f the whole physical world stands guarantee
for the truth which is behind the appearance of
the sand.
But where is that guarantee of truth for this
personality of mine that has the mysterious faculty
of knowledge before which the particle of sand
offers its credential of identification? It must be
acknowledged that this personal self of mine also
has for its truth a background of personality
where knowledge, unlike that of other things, can
only be immediate and self-revealed.
What I mean by personality is a self-conscious
principle of transcendental unity within man which
comprehends all the details of facts that are indi-
vidually his in knowledge and feeling, wish and
will and work. In its negative aspect it is limited
to the individual separateness, while in its posi-
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
tive aspect it ever extends itself in the infinite
through the increase of its knowledge, love and
activities.
And for this reason the most human of all facts
about us is that we do dream of the limitless un-
attained the dream which gives character to what
is attained. Of all creatures man lives in an end-
less future. Our present is only a part of it. The
ideas unborn, the unbodied spirits, tease our imagi-
nation with an insistence which makes them more
real to our mind than things around us. The atmos-
phere of the future must always surround our
present in order to make it life-bearing and sugges-
tive of immortality. For he who has the healthy
vigour of humanity in him has a strong instinctive
faith that ideally he is limitless. That is why our
greatest teachers claim from us a manifestation that
touches the infinite. In this they pay homage to
the Supreme Man. And our true worship lies in
our indomitable courage to be great and thus to
represent the human divine and ever to keep open
the path of freedom towards the unattained.
We Indians have bad the sad experience in our
own part of the world how timid orthodoxy, its
irrational repressions and its accumulation of dead
centuries, dwarfs man through its idolatry of the
past. Seated rigid in the centre of stagnation, it
firmly ties the human spirit to the revolving wheels
pf habit till f aintness overwhelms her- Like a slug-
1x8
THE MUSIC MAKER
gish stream choked by rotting weeds, it is divided
into shallow slimy pools that shroud their dumb-
ness in a narcotic mist of stupor. This mechanical
spirit of tradition is essentially materialistic, it is
blindly pious but not spiritual, obsessed by phan-
toms of unreason that haunt feeble minds in the
ghastly disguise of religion. For our soul is
shrunken when we allow foolish days to weave
repeated patterns of unmeaning meshes round all
departments of life. It becomes stunted when we
have no object of profound interest, no prospect of
heightened life, demanding clarity of mind and
heroic attention to maintain and mature it. It is
destroyed when we make fireworks of our animal
passions for the enjoyment of their meteoric sensa-
tions, recklessly reducing to ashes all that could
have been saved for permanent illumination. This
happens not only to mediocre individuals hugging
fetters that keep them irresponsible or hungering
for lurid unrealities, but to generations of insipid
races that have lost all emphasis of significance in
themselves, having missed their future.
The continuous future is the domain of our mil-
lennium, which is with us more truly than what
we see in our history in fragments of the present.
It is in our dream. It is in the realm of the faith
which creates perfection. We have seen the rec-
ords of man's dreams of the millennium, the ideal
reality cherished by forgotten races in their ad-
119
THE RELIGION OP MAN
miration, hope and love manifested in the dignity
of their being through some majesty in ideals and
beauty in performance. While these races pass
away one after another they leave great accom-
plishments behind them carrying their claim to
recognition as dreamers not so much as con-
querors of earthly kingdoms, but as the designers
of paradise. The poet gives us the best definition
of man when he says:
We are the music-makers,
We are the dreamers of dreams.
Our religious present for us the dreams of the ideal
unity which is man himself -as he manifests the
infinite. We suffer from the sense of sin, which is
the sense of discord, when any disruptive passion
tears gaps in our vision of the One in man, creat-
ing isolation in our self from the universal
humanity.
The Upanishad says, r Ma gridah, "covet not".
For coveting diverts attention from the infinite
value of our personality to the temptation of
materials. Our village poet sings: "Man will
brightly flash into your sight, my heart, if you
shut the door of desires."
We have seen how primitive man was occupied
with his physical needs, and thus restricted him-
self to the present which is the time boundary of
the animal; and he missed the urge of his con-
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THE MUSIC MAKER
sciousness to seek its emancipation in a world of
ultimate human value.
Modern civilization for the same reason seems
to turn itself back to that primitive mentality.
Our needs have multiplied so furiously fast that
we have lost our leisure for the deeper realization
of our self and our faith in it It means that we
have lost our religion, the longing for the touch of
the divine in man, the builder of the heaven, the
music-maker, the dreamer of dreams. This has
made it easy to tear into shreds our faith in the
perfection of the human ideal, in its wholeness, as
the fuller meaning of reality. No doubt it is won-
derful that music contains a fact which has been
analysed and measured, and which music shares
in common with the braying of an ass or of a
motor-car horn. But it is still more wonderful that
music has a truth, which cannot be analysed into
fractions; and there the difference between it and
the bellowing impertinence of a motor-car horn is
infinite. Men of our own times have analysed the
human mind, its dreams, its spiritual aspirations,
most often caught unawares in the shattered state
of madness, disease and desultory dreams and
they have found to their satisf action that these are
composed of elemental animalities tangled into
various knots. This may be an important discov-
ery; but what is still more important to realize is
the fact that by some miracle of creation man
121
THE RELIGION OF MAN
infinitely transcends the component parts of his
own character.
Suppose that some psychological explorer sus-
pects that man's devotion to his beloved has at
bottom our primitive stomach's hankering for
human flesh, we need not contradict him ; for what-
ever may be its genealogy, its secret composition,
the complete character of our love, in its perfect
mingling of physical, mental and spiritual asso-
ciations, is unique in its utter difference from can-
nibalism. The truth underlying the possibility of
such transmutation is the truth of our religion. A
lotus has in common with a piece of rotten flesh
the elements of carbon and hydrogen. In a state
of dissolution there is no difference between them,
but in a state of creation the difference is immense ;
and it is that difference which really matters. We
are told that some of our most sacred sentiments
hold hidden in them instincts -contrary to what
these sentiments profess to be. Such disclosures
have the effect upon certain persons of the relief
of a tension, even like the relaxation in death of
the incessant strenuousness of life.
We find in modern literature that something like
a chuckle of an exultant disillusionment is becom-
ing contagious, and the knights-errant of the cult
of arson are abroad, setting fire to our time-
honoured altars of worship, proclaiming that the
images enshrined on them, even if beautiful, arc
122
THE MUSIC MAKER
made of mud. They say that it has been found out
that the appearances in human idealism are decep-
tive, that the underlying mud is real. From such
a point of view, the whole of creation may be said
to be a gigantic deception, and the billions of re-
volving electric specks that have the appearance
of "you" or "me" should be condemned as bearers
of false evidence.
But whom do they seek to delude? If it be beings
like ourselves who possess some inborn criterion
of the real, then to them these very appearances in
their integrity must represent reality, and not their
component electric specks. For them the rose
must be more satisfactory as an object than its
constituent gases, which can be tortured to speak
against the evident identity of the rose. The rose,
even like the human sentiment of goodness, or
ideal of beauty, belongs to the realm of creation,
in which all its rebellious elements are reconciled
in a perfect harmony. Because these elements in
their simplicity yield themselves to our scrutiny,
we in our pride are inclined to give them the best
prizes as actors in that mystery-play, the rose. Such
an analysis is really only giving a prize to our own
detective cleverness.
I repeat again that the sentiments and ideals
which man in his process of self -creation has built
up, should be recognized in their wholeness. In all
our faculties or passions there is nothing which is
123
THE RELIGION OF MAN
absolutely good or bad; they all are the constitu-
ents of the great human personality. They are
notes that are wrong when in wrong places ; our
education is to make them into chords that may
harmonize with the grand music of Man. The
animal in the savage has been transformed into
higher stages in the civilized man in other words
has attained a truer consonance with Man the
divine, not through any elimination of the original
materials, but through a magical grouping of them,
through the severe discipline of art, the discipline
of curbing and stressing in proper places, establish-
ing a balance of lights and shadows in the back-
ground and foreground, and thus imparting a
unique value to our personality in all its com-
pleteness.
So long as we have faith in this value, our energy
is steadily sustained in its creative activity that
reveals the eternal Man. This faith is helped on
all sides by literature, arts, legends, symbols, cere-
monials, by the remembrance of heroic souls who
have personified it in themselves,
Our religion is the inner principle that compre-
hends these endeavours and expressions and dreams
through which we approach Him in whose image
we are made. To keep alive our faith in the reality
of the ideal perfection is the function of civiliza-
tion, which is mainly formed of sentiments and the
images that represent that ideal. In other words,
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THE MUSIC MAKER
civilization is a creation of art, created for the
objective realization of our vision of the spiritually
perfect It is the product of the art of religion. We
stop its course of conquest when we accept the cult
of realism and forget that realism is the worst form
of untruth, because it contains a minimum of truth.
It is like preaching that only in the morgue can
we comprehend the reality of the human body
the body which has its perfect revelation when seen
in life. All great human facts are surrounded by
an immense atmosphere of expectation. They are
never complete if we leave out from them what
might be, what should be, what is not yet proven
but profoundly felt, what points towards the im-
mortal. This dwells in a perpetual surplus in the
individual, that transcends all the desultory facts
about him.
The realism in Man is the animal in him, whose
life is a mere duration of time; the human in him
is his reality which has life everlasting for its back-
ground. Rocks and crystals being complete defi-
nitely in what they are, can keep as "mute insen-
sate things" a kind of dumb dignity in their stol-
idly limited realism ; while human facts grow un-
seemly and diseased^ breeding germs of death,
when divested of their creative ideal the ideal of
Man the divine, The difference between the notes
as mere facts of sound and music as a truth of ex-
pression is immense. For music though it compre-
125
THE RELIGION OF MAN
hends a limited number of notes yet represents the
infinite. It is for man to produce the music of the
spirit with all the notes which he has in his psy-
chology and which, through inattention or per*
versity, can easily be translated into a frightful
noise. In music man is revealed and not in a noise.
CHAPTER IX
THE ARTIST
THE fundamental desire of life is the desire to
exist. It claims from us a vast amount of training
and experience about the necessaries of livelihood.
Yet it does not cost me much to confess that the
food that I have taken, the dress that I wear, the
house where I have my lodging, represent a stu-
pendous knowledge, practice and organization
which I helplessly lack; for I find that I am not
altogether despised for such ignorance and ineffi-
ciency. Those who read me seem fairly satisfied
that I am nothing better than a poet or perhaps a
philosopher which latter reputation I do not
claim and dare not hold through the precarious
help of misinformation.
It is quite evident in spite of my deficiency that
in human society I represent a vocation, which
though superfluous has yet been held worthy of
commendation. In fact, I am encouraged in my
rhythmic futility by being offered moral and mate-
rial incentives for its cultivation. If a foolish
blackbird did not know how to seek its food, to
build its nest, or to avoid Its enemies, but special-
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
ized in singing, its fellow creatures, urged by their
own science of genetics, would dutifully allow it
to starve and perish. That I am not treated in a
similar fashion is the evidence of an immense dif-
ference between the animal existence and the civil-
ization of man. His great distinction dwells in the
indefinite margin of life in him which affords a
boundless background for his dreams and creations.
And it is in this realm of freedom that he realizes
his divine dignity, his great human truth, and is
pleased when I as a poet sing victory to him, to
Man the self-revealer, who goes on exploring ages
of creation to find himself in perfection.
Reality, in all its manifestations, reveals itself
in the emotional and imaginative background of
our mind. We know it, not because we can think
of it, but because we directly feel it. And there-
fore, even if rejected by the logical mind, it is not
banished from our consciousness. As an incident
it may be beneficial or injurious, but as a revelation
its value lies in the fact that it offers us an experi-
ence through emotion or imagination ; we feel our-
selves in a special field of realization. This feeling
itself is delightful when it is not accompanied by
any great physical or moral risk, we love to feel
even fear or sorrow if it is detached from all prac-
tical consequences. This is the reason of our enjoy-
ment of tragic dramas, in which the feeling of pain
rouses our consciousness to a white heat of intensity.
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THE ARTIST
The reality of my own self is immediate and
indubitable to me. Whatever else affects me in a
like manner is real for myself, and it inevitably
attracts and occupies my attention for its own sake,
blends itself with my personality, making it richer
and larger and causing it delight. My friend may
not be beautiful, useful, rich or great, but he is real
to me ; in him I feel my own extension and my joy.
The consciousness of the real within me seeks
for its own corroboration the touch of the Real
outside me. When it fails the self in me is de-
pressed. When our surroundings are monotonous
and insignificant, having no emotional reaction
upon our mind, we become vague to ourselves. For
we are like pictures, whose reality is helped by
the background if it is sympathetic. The punish-
ment we suffer in solitary confinement consists in
the obstruction to the relationship between the
world of reality and the real in ourselves, causing
the latter to become indistinct in a haze of inactive
imagination: our personality is blurred, we miss
the companionship of our own being through the
diminution of our self. The world of our knowl-
edge is enlarged for us through the extension of our
information ; the world of our personality grows in
its area with a large and deeper experience of our
personal self in our own universe through sym-
pathy and imagination.
As this world, that can be known through knowl-
THE RELIGION OF MAN
edge, is limited to us owing to our ignorance, so
the world of personality, that can be realized by
our own personal self, is also restricted by the
limit of our sympathy and imagination. In the
dim twilight of insensitiveness a large part of our
world remains to us like a procession of nomadic
shadows. According to the stages of our conscious-
ness we have more or less been able to identify our-
selves with this world, if not as a whole, at least
in fragments; and our enjoyment dwells in that
wherein we feel ourselves thus united. In art we
express the delight of this unity by which this
world is realized as humanly significant to us. I
have my physical, chemical and biological self ; my
knowledge of it extends through the extension of
my knowledge of the physical, chemical and bio-
logical world. I have my personal self, which has
its communication with our feelings, sentiments
and imaginations, which lends itself to be coloured
by our desires and shaped by our imageries.
Science urges us to occupy by our mind the
immensity of the knowable world; our spiritual
teacher enjoins us to comprehend by our soul the
infinite Spirit which is in the depth of the moving
and changing facts of the world ; the urging of our
artistic nature is to realize the manifestation of
personality in the world of appearance, the reality
of existence which is in harmony with the real
within us. Where this harmony is not deeply felt,
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THE ARTIST
there we are aliens and perpetually homesick. For
man by nature is an artist; he never receives
passively and accurately in his mind a physical
representation of things around him. There goes
on a continual adaptation, a transformation of facts
into human imagery, through constant touches of
his sentiments and imagination. The animal has
the geography of its birthplace ; man has his coun-
try, the geography of his personal self. The vision
of it is not merely physical ; it has its artistic unity,
it is a perpetual creation. In his country, his con-
sciousness being unobstructed, man extends his
relationship, which is of his own creative person-
ality. In order to live efficiently man must know
facts and their laws. In order to be happy he must
establish harmonious relationship with all things
with which he has dealings. Our creation is the
modification of relationship.
The great men who appear in our history remain
in our mind not as a static fact but as a living his-
torical image. The sublime suggestions of their
lives become blended into a noble consistency in
legends made living in the life of ages. Those men
with whom we live we constantly modify in our
minds, making them more real to us than they
would be in a bare presentation. Men's ideal of
womanhood and women's ideal of manliness are
created by the imagination through a mental
grouping of qualities and conducts according to
THE RELIGION OF MAN
our hopes and desires, and men and women con-
sciously and unconsciously strive- towards its attain-
ment. In fact, they reach a degree of reality for
each other according to their success in adapting
these respective ideals to their own nature. To say
that these ideals are imaginary and therefore not
true is wrong in man's case. His true life is in his
own creation, which represents the infinity of man.
He is naturally indifferent to things that merely
exist; they must have some ideal value for him,
and then only his consciousness fully recognizes
them as real. Men are never true in their isolated
self, and their imagination is the faculty that brings
before their mind the vision of their own greater
being.
We can make truth ours by actively modulating
its inter-relations. This is the work of art; for
reality is not based in the substance of things but
in the principal of relationship. Truth is the in-
finite pursued by metaphysics; fact is the infinite
pursued by science, while reality is the definition
of the infinite which relates truth to the person.
Reality is human ; it is what we are conscious of,
by which we are affected, that which we express.
When we are intensely aware of it, we are aware
of ourselves and it gives us delight. We live in it,
we always widen its limits. Our arts and literature
represent this creative activity which is fundamen-
tal in man.
132
TH E ARTIST
But the mysterious fact about it is that though
the individuals are separately seeking their ex-
pression, their success is never individualistic in
character. Men must find and feel and represent
in all their creative works Man the Eternal, the
creator. Their civilization is a continual discovery
of the transcendental humanity. In whatever it
fails it shows the failure of the artist, which is the
failure in expression; and that civilization perishes
in which the individual thwarts the revelation of
the universal. For Reality is the truth of Man,
who belongs to all times, and any individualistic
madness of men against Man cannot thrive for
long.
Man is eager that his feeling for what is real to
him must never die ; it must find an imperishable
form. The consciousness of this self of mine is
so intensely evident to me that it assumes the
character of immortality, I cannot imagine that
it ever has been or can be non-existent- In a similar
manner all things that are real to me are for my-
self eternal, and therefore worthy of a language
that has a permanent meaning. We know indi-
viduals who have the habit of inscribing their
names on the walls of some majestic monument of
architecture. It is a pathetic way of associating
their own names with some works of art which
belong to all times and to all men. Our hunger for
reputation comes from our desire to make objec-
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
lively real that which is inwardly real to us. He
who is inarticulate is insignificant, like a dark star
that cannot prove itself. He ever waits for the
artist to give him his fullest worth, not for any-
thing specially excellent in him but for the won-
derful fact that he is what he certainly is, that he
carries in him the eternal mystery of being.
A Chinese friend of mine while travelling with
me in the streets of Peking suddenly exclaimed
with a vehement enthusiasm: "Look, here is a
donkey!" Surely it was an utterly ordinary don-
key, like an indisputable truism, needing no special
introduction from him. I was amused ; but it made
me think. This animal is generally classified as
having certain qualities that are not recommend-
able and then hurriedly dismissed. It was obscured
to me by an envelopment of commonplace associa-
tions ; I was lazily certain that I knew it and there-
fore I hardly saw it. But my friend, who pos-
sessed the artist mind of China, did not treat it
with a cheap knowledge but could see it afresh
and recognize it as real. When I say real, I mean
that it did not remain at the outskirt of his con-
sciousness tied to a narrow definition, but it easily
blended in his imagination, produced a vision, a
special harmony of lines, colours and life and
movement, and became intimately his own. The
admission of a donkey into a drawing-room is vio-
lently opposed ; yet there is no prohibition against
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THE ARTIST
its finding a place in a picture which may be ad-
miringly displayed on the drawing-room wall.
The only evidence of truth in art exists when it
compels us to say "I see". A donkey we may pass
by in Nature, but a donkey in art we must acknowl-
edge even if it be a creature that disreputably
ignores all its natural history responsibility, even
if it resembles a mushroom in its head and a palm-
leaf in its tail.
In the Upanishad it is said in a parable that
there are two birds sitting on the same bough,
one of which feeds and the other looks on. This is
an image of the mutual relationship of the infinite
being and the finite self. The delight of the bird
which looks on is great, for it is a pure and free
delight. There are both of these birds in man him-
self, the objective one with its business of life, the
subjective one with its disinterested joy of vision.
A child comes to me and commands me to tell
her a story. I tell her of a tiger which is disgusted
with the black stripes on its body and comes to my
frightened servant demanding a piece of soap.
The story gives my little audience immense
pleasure, the pleasure of a vision, and her mind
cries out, "It is here, for I see!" She knows a tiger
in the book of natural history, but she can see the
tiger in the story of mine.
I am sure that even this child of five knows that
it is an impossible tiger that is out on its untigerly
THE RELIGION OF MAN
quest of an absurd soap. The delightfulness of the
tiger for her is not in its beauty, its usefulness, or
its probability; but in the undoubted fact that she
can see it in her mind with a greater clearness of
vision than she can the walls around her the walls
that brutally shout their evidence of certainty
which is merely circumstantial. The tiger in the
story is inevitable, it has the character of a com-
plete image, which offers its testimonial of truth
in itself. The listener's own mind is the eye-wit-
ness, whose direct experience could not be contra-
dicted. A tiger must be like every other tiger in
order that it may have its place in a book of
Science; there it must be a commonplace tiger to
be at all tolerated. But in the story it is uncommon,
it can never be reduplicated. We know a thing
because it belongs to a class ; we see a thing because
it belongs to itself. The tiger of the story com-
pletely detached itself from all others of its kind
and easily assumed a distinct individuality in the
heart of the listener. The child could vividly see
it, because by the help of her imagination it became
her own tiger, one with herself, and this union of
the subject and object gives us joy. Is it because
there is no separation between them in truth, the
separation being the Maya, which is creation?
There come in our history occasions when the
consciousness of a large multitude becomes sud-
denly illumined with the recognition of a reality
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THE ARTIST
which rises far above the dull obviousness of daily
happenings. The world becomes vivid; we see,
we feel it with all our soul. Such an occasion there
was when the voice of Buddha reached distant
shores across physical and moral impediments.
Then our life and our world found their profound
meaning of reality in their relation to the central
person who offered us emancipation of love. Men,
in order to make this great human experience ever
memorable, determined to do the impossible ; they
made rocks to speak, stones to sing, caves to re-
member; their cry of joy and hope took immortal
forms along the hills and deserts, across barren
solitudes and populous cities. A gigantic creative
endeavour built up its triumph in stupendous
carvings, defying obstacles that were overwhelm-
ing. Such heroic activity over the greater part of
the Eastern continents clearly answers the question :
"What is Art?" It is the response of man's crea-
tive soul to the call of the Real.
Once there came a time, centuries ago in Bengal,
when the divine love drama that has made its
eternal playground in human souls was vividly
revealed by a personality radiating its intimate
realization of God. The mind of a whole people
was stirred by a vision of the world as an instru-
ment, through which sounded out invitation to the
meeting of bliss. The ineffable mystery of God's
love-call, taking shape in an endless panorama of
THE RELIGION OF MAN
colours and forms, inspired activity in music that
overflowed the restrictions of classical convention-
alism. Our Kirtan music of Bengal came to its
being like a star flung up by a burning whirlpool
of emotion in the heart of a whole people, and their
consciousness was aflame with a sense of reality
that must be adequately acknowledged.
The question may be asked as to what place
music occupies in my theory that art is for evoking
in our mind the deep sense of reality in its richest
aspect. Music is the most abstract of all the arts,
as mathematics is in the region of science. In fact
these two have a deep relationship with each other.
Mathematics is the logic of numbers and dimen-
sions. It is therefore employed as the basis of our
scientific knowledge. When taken out of its con-
crete associations and reduced to symbols, it re-
veals its grand structural majesty, the inevitable-
ness of its own perfect concord. Yet there is not
merely a logic but also a magic of mathematics
which works at the world of appearance, producing
harmony the cadence of inter-relationship. This
rhythm of harmony has been extracted from its
usual concrete context, and exhibited through the
medium of sound. And thus the pure essence of
expressiveness in existence is offered in music. Ex-
pressiveness finds the least resistance in sound, hav-
ing freedom unencumbered by the burden of facts
and thoughts. This gives it a power to arouse in
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THE ARTIST
us an intimate feeling of reality. In the pictorial,
plastic and literary arts, the object and our feelings
with regard to it are closely associated, like the
rose and its perfumes. In music, the feeling dis-
tilled in sound, becoming itself an independent
object It assumes a tune-form which is definite,
but a meaning which is undefinable, and yet which
grips our mind with a sense of absolute truth.
It is the magic of mathematics, the rhythm
which is in the heart of all creation, which moves
in the atom and, in its different measures, fashions
gold and lead, the rose and the thorn, the sun and
the planets. These are the dance-steps of numbers
in the arena of time and space, which weave the
maya, the patterns of appearance, the incessant
flow of change, that ever is and is not It is the
rhythm that churns up images from the vague and
makes tangible what is elusive. This is may a, this
is the art in creation, and art in literature, which
is the magic of rhythm.
And must we stop here? What we know as in-
tellectual truth, is that also not a rhythm of the
relationship of facts, that weaves the pattern of
theory, and produces a sense of convincingness to
a person who somehow feels sure that he knows the
truth? We believe any fact to be true because of
a harmony, a rhythm in reason, the process of
which is analysable by the logic of mathematics,
but not its result in me, just as we can count the
139
THE RELIGION OP MAN
notes but cannot account for the music. The mys-
tery is that I am convinced, and this also belongs
to the may a of creation, whose one important, in-
dispensable factor is this self-conscious personality
that I represent
And the Other? I believe it is also a self-con-
scious personality, which has its eternal harmony
with mine.
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CHAPTER X
MAN'S NATURE
FROM the time when Man became truly conscious
of his own self he also became conscious of a mys-
terious spirit of unity which found its manifesta-
tion through him in his society. It is a subtle
medium of relationship between individuals, which
is not for any utilitarian purpose but for its own
ultimate truth, not a sum of arithmetic but a value
of life. Somehow Man has felt that this compre-
hensive spirit of unity has a divine character which
could claim the sacrifice of all that is individual in
him, that in it dwells his highest meaning trans-
cending his limited self, representing his best
freedom,
Man's reverential loyalty to this spirit of unity
is expressed in his religion ; it is symbolized in the
names of his deities. That is why, in the begin-
ning, his gods were tribal gods, even gods of the
different communities belonging to the same tribe.
With the extension of the consciousness of human
unity his God became revealed to him as one and
universal, proving that the truth of human unity is
the truth of Man's God.
In the Sanskrit language, religion goes by the
name dharma, which in the derivative meaning im-
THE RELIGION OF MAN
plies the principle of relationship that holds us
firm, and in its technical sense means the virtue of
a thing, the essential quality of it; for instance, heat
is the essential quality of fire, though in certain
of its stages it may be absent
Religion consists in the endeavour of men to
cultivate and express those qualities which are in-
herent in the nature of Man the Eternal, and to
have faith in him. If these qualities were abso-
lutely natural in individuals, religion could have
no purpose. We begin our history with all the
original promptings of our brute nature which
helps us to fulfil those vital needs of ours that are
immediate. But deeper within us there is a current
of tendencies which runs in many ways in a con-
trary direction, the life current of universal hu-
manity. Religion has its function in reconciling
the contradiction, by subordinating the brute na-
ture to what we consider as the truth of Man.
This is helped when our faith in the Eternal Man,
whom we call by different names and imagine in
different images, is made strong. The contradic-
tion between the two natures in us is so great that
men have willingly sacrificed their vital needs and
courted death in order to express their dharma,
which represents the truth of the Supreme Man.
The vision of the Supreme Man is realized by
our imagination, but not created by our mind.
More real than individual men, he surpasses each
142
MAN'S NATURE
of us in his permeating personality which is trans-
cendental. The procession of his ideas, following
his great purpose, is ever moving across obstruc-
tive facts towards the perfected truth. We, the
individuals, having our place in his composition,
may or may not be in conscious harmony with his
purpose, may even put obstacles in his path bring-
ing down our doom upon ourselves. But we gain
our true religion when we consciously co-operate
with him, finding our exceeding joy through suf-
fering and sacrifice. For through our own love for
him we are made conscious of a great love that
radiates from his being, who is Mahatma, the
Supreme Spirit.
The great Chinese sage Lao-tze has said : "One
who may die, but will not perish, has life ever-
lasting". It means that he lives in the life of the
immortal Man. The urging for this life induces
men to go through the struggle for a true survival.
And it has been said in our scripture: "Through
adharma (the negation of dharma] man prospers,
gains what appears desirable, conquers enemies,
but he perishes at the root." In this saying it is
suggested that there is a life which is truer for men
than their physical life which is transient.
Our life gains what is called "value" in those of
its aspects which represent eternal humanity in
knowledge, in sympathy, in deeds, in character
and creative works. And from the beginning of
143
THE RELIGION OF MAN
our history we are seeking, often at the cost of
everything else, the value for our life and not
merely success; in other words, we are trying to
realize in ourselves the immortal Man, so that we
may die but not perish. This is the meaning of the
utterance in the Upanishad: "Tarn vedyam p<uru-
sham veda, yatha ma vo mrityuh parivyathah"
"Realize the Person so that thou mayst not suffer
from death."
The meaning of these words is highly paradoxi-
cal, and cannot be proved by our senses or our rea-
son, and yet its influence is so strong in men that
they have cast away all fear and greed, defied all
the instincts that cling to the brute nature, for the
sake of acknowledging and preserving a life which
belongs to the Eternal Person. It is all the more
significant because many of them do not believe
in its reality, and yet are ready to fling away for it
all that they believe to be final and the only positive
fact.
We call this ideal reality "spiritual". That word
is vague; nevertheless, through the dim light
which reaches us across the barriers of physical
existence, we seem to have a stronger faith in the
spiritual Man than in the physical ; and from the
dimmest period of his history, Man has a feeling
that the apparent facts of existence are not final ;
that his supreme welfare depends upon his being
able to remain in perfect relationship with some
144
MAN'S NATURE
great mystery behind the veil, at the threshold of
a larger life, which is for giving him a far higher
value than a mere continuation of his physical life
in the material world.
Our physical body has its comprehensive reality
in the physical world, which may be truly called
our universal body, without which our individual
body would miss its function. Our physical life
realizes its growing meaning through a widening
freedom in its relationship with the physical
world, and this gives it a greater happiness than
the mere pleasure of satisfied needs. We become
aware of a profound meaning of our own self at
the consciousness of some ideal of perfection, some
truth beautiful or majestic which gives us an inner
sense of completeness, a heightened sense of our
own reality. This strengthens man's faith, effec-
tive even if indefinite his faith in an objective
ideal of perfection comprehending the human
world. His vision of it has been beautiful or dis-
torted, luminous or obscure, according to the stages
of development that his consciousness has attained.
But whatever may be the name and nature of his
religious creed, man's ideal of human perfection
has been based upon a bond of unity running
through individuals culminating in a supreme
Being who represents the eternal in human person-
ality. In his civilization the perfect expression of
this idea produces the wealth of truth which is for
THE RELIGION OF MAN
the revelation of Man and not merely for the suc-
cess of life. But when this creative ideal which
is dharma gives place to some overmastering pas-
sion in a large body of men civilization bursts out
in an explosive flame, like a star that has lighted
its own funeral pyre of boisterous brilliancy.
When I was a child I had the freedom to make
my own toys out of trifles and create my own games
from imagination. In my happiness my playmates
had their full share, in fact the complete enjoy-
ment of my games depended upon their taking part
in them. One day, in this paradise of our child-
hood, entered the temptation from the market
world of the adult. A toy brought from an English
shop was given to one of our companions; it was
perfect, it was big and wonderfully life-like. He
became proud of the toy and less mindful of the
game ; he kept that expensive thing carefully away
from us, glorying in his exclusive possession of it,
feeling himself superior to his playmates whose
toys were cheap. I am sure if he could use the
modern language of history he would say that he
was more civilized than ourselves to the extent of
his owning that ridiculously perfect toy.
One thing he failed to realize in his excitement
a fact which at the moment seemed to him insig-
nificant that this temptation obscured something
a great deal more perfect than his toy, the revela-
tion of the perfect child which ever dwells in the
146
MAN'S NATURE
heart of man, in other words, the dharma of the
child. The toy merely expressed his wealth but
not himself, not the child's creative spirit, not the
child's generous joy in his play, his identification
of himself with others who were his compeers in
his play world. Civilization is to express Man's
dharma and not merely his cleverness, power and
possession.
Once there was an occasion for me to motor
down to Calcutta from a place a hundred miles
away. Something wrong with the mechanism made
it necessary for us to have a repeated supply of
water almost every half-hour. At the first village
where we were compelled to stop, we asked the
help of a man to find water for us. It proved quite
a task for him, but when we offered him his re-
ward, poor though he was, he refused to accept it
In fifteen other villages the same thing happened.
In a hot country, where travellers constantly need
water and where the water supply grows scanty in
summer, the villagers consider it their duty to offer
water to those who need it They could easily make
a business out of it, following the inexorable law
of demand and supply. But the ideal which they
consider to be their dharma has become one with
their life. They do not claim any personal merit
for possessing it.
Lao-tze, speaking about the man who is truly
good, says: "He quickens but owns not He acts
THE RELIGION OF MAN
but claims not. Merit he accomplishes but dwells
not in it. Since he does not dwell in it, it will never
leave him." That which is outside ourselves we
can sell ; but that which is one with our being we
cannot sell. This complete assimilation of truth
belongs to the paradise of perfection ; it lies beyond
the purgatory of self-consciousness. To have
reached it proves a long process of civilization.
To be able to take a considerable amount of
trouble in order to supply water to a passing
stranger and yet never to claim merit or reward
for it seems absurdly and negligibly simple com-
pared with the capacity to produce an amazing
number of things per minute. A millionaire tour-
ist, ready to corner the food market and grow rich
by driving the whole world to the brink of starva-
tion, is sure to feel too superior to notice this sim-
ple thing while rushing through our villages at
sixty miles an hour.
Yes, it is simple, as simple as it is for a gentle-
man to be a gentleman ; but that simplicity is the
product of centuries of culture. That simplicity
is difficult of imitation. In a few years' time, it
might be possible for me to learn how to make
holes in thousands of needles simultaneously by
turning a wheel, but to be absolutely simple in
one's hospitality to one's enemy, or to a stranger,
requires generations of training. Simplicity takes
no account of its own value, claims no wages, and
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MAN'S NATURE
therefore those who are enamoured of power do
not realize that simplicity of spiritual expression
is the highest product of civilization.
A process of disintegration can kill this rare
fruit of a higher life, as a whole race of birds pos-
sessing some rare beauty can be made extinct by
the vulgar power of avarice which has civilized
weapons. This fact was clearly proved to me when
I found that the only place where a price was
expected for the water given to us was a suburb at
Calcutta, where life was richer, the water supply
easier and more abundant and where progress
flowed in numerous channels in all directions. It
shows that a harmony of character which the peo-
ple once had was lost the harmony with the inner
self which is greater in its universality than the
self that gives prominence to its personal needs.
The latter loses its feeling of beauty and generos-
ity in its calculation of profit; for there it repre-
sents exclusively itself and not the universal Man.
There is an utterance in the Atharva Veda,
wherein appears the question as to who it was that
gave Man his music. Birds repeat their single
notes, or a very simple combination of them, but
Man builds his world of music and establishes ever
new rhythmic relationship of notes. These reveal
to him a universal mystery of creation which can-
not be described. They bring to him the inner
rhythm that transmutes facts into truths. They
149
THE RELIGION OF MAN
give him pleasure not merely for his sense of hear-
ing, but for his deeper being, which gains satisfac-
tion in the ideal of perfect unity. Somehow man
feels that truth finds its body in such perfection;
and when he seeks for his own best revelation he
seeks a medium which has the harmonious unity,
as has music. Our impulse to give expression to
Universal Man produces arts and literature. They
in their cadence of lines, colours, movements,
words, thoughts, express vastly more than what they
appear to be on the surface. They open the win-
dows of our mind to the eternal reality of man.
They are the superfluity of wealth of which we
claim our common inheritance whatever may be
the country and time to which we belong; for they
are inspired by the universal mind. And not merely
in his arts, but in his own behaviour, the individual
must for his excellence give emphasis to an ideal
which has some value of truth that ideally belongs
to all men. In other words, he should create a
music of expression in his conduct and surround-
ings which makes him represent the supreme Per-
sonality. And civilization is the creation of the
race, its expression of the universal Man.
When I first visited Japan I had the opportu-
nity of observing where the two parts of the human
sphere strongly contrasted ; one, on which grew up
the ancient continents of social ideal, standards of
beauty, codes of personal behaviour ; and the other
150
MAN'S NATURE
part, the fluid element, the perpetual current that
carried wealth to its shores from all parts of the
world. In half a century's time Japan has been
able to make her own the mighty spirit of progress
which suddenly burst upon her one morning in a
storm of insult and menace. China also has had
her rousing, when her self-respect was being
knocked to pieces through series of helpless years,
and I am sure she also will master before long the
instrument which hurt her to the quick. But the
ideals that imparted life and body to Japanese
civilization had been nourished in the reverent
hopes of countless generations through ages which
were not primarily occupied in an incessant hunt
for opportunities. They had those large tracts of
leisure in them which are necessary for the blos-
soming of Life's beauty and the ripening of her
wisdom.
On the one hand we can look upon the modern
factories in Japan with their numerous mechanical
organizations and engines of production and de-
struction of the latest type. On the other hand,
against them we may see some fragile vase, some
small piece of silk, some architecture of sublime
simplicity, some perfect lyric of bodily movement.
We may also notice the Japanese expression of
courtesy daily extracting from them a considerable
amount of time and trouble. All these have come
not from any accurate knowledge of things but
THE RELIGION OF MAN
from an intense consciousness of the value of real-
ity which takes time for its fullness. What Japan
reveals in her skilful manipulation of telegraphic
wires and railway lines, of machines for manufac-
turing things and for killing men, is more or less
similar to what we see in other countries which
have similar opportunity for training. But in her
art of living, her pictures, her code of conduct, the
various forms of beauty which her religious and
social ideals assume Japan expresses her own per-
sonality, her dharma, which, in order to be of any
worth, must be unique and at the same time repre-
sent Man of the Everlasting Life.
Lao-tze has said: "Not knowing the eternal
causes passions to rise ; and that is evil". He has
also said: "Let us die, and yet not perish". For
we die when we lose our physical life, we perish
when we miss our humanity. And humanity is the
dharma of human beings.
What is evident in this world is the endless pro-
cession of moving things; but what is to be real-
ized, is the supreme human Truth by which the
human world is permeated.
We must never forget to-day that a mere move-
ment is not valuable in itself, that it may be a
sign of a dangerous form of inertia. We must be
reminded that a great upheaval of spirit, a uni-
versal realization of true dignity of man once
caused by Buddha's teachings in India, started a
152
MAN'S NATURE
movement for centuries which produced illumina-
tion of literature, art, science and numerous efforts
of public beneficence. This was a movement whose
motive force was not some additional accession of
knowledge or power or urging of some overwhelm-
ing passion. It was an inspiration for freedom, the
freedom which enables us to realize dharma, the
truth of Eternal Man.
Lao-tze in one of his utterances has said : "Those
who have virtue (dharma) attend to their obliga-
tions; those who have no virtue attend to their
claims." Progress which is not related to an inner
dharma, but to an attraction which is external,
seeks to satisfy our endless claims. But civiliza-
tion, which is an ideal, gives us the abundant
power to renounce which is the power that realizes
the infinite and inspires creation.
This great Chinese sage has said : "To increase
life is called a blessing." For, the increase of life
realizes the eternal life and yet does not transcend
the limits of life's unity* The mountain pine
grows tall and great, its every inch maintains the
rhythm of an inner balance, and therefore even in
its seeming extravagance it has the reticent grace
of self-control. The tree and its productions belong
to the same vital system of cadence; the timber,
the flowers, leaves and fruits are one with the tree ;
their exuberance is not a malady of exaggeration,
but a blessing.
153
CHAPTER XI
THE MEETING
OUR great prophets in all ages did truly realize
in themselves the freedom of the soul in their con-
sciousness of the spiritual kinship of man which is
universal. And yet human races, owing to their
external geographical condition, developed in
their individual isolation a mentality that is ob-
noxiously selfish. In their instinctive search for
truth in religion either they dwarfed and deformed
it in the mould of the primitive distortions of their
own race-mind, or else they shut their God within
temple walls and scriptural texts safely away, espe-
cially from those departments of life where his
absence gives easy access to devil-worship in vari-
ous names and forms. They treated their God in
the same way as in some forms of government the
King is treated, who has traditional honour but no
effective authority. The true meaning of God has
remained vague in our minds only because our
consciousness of the spiritual unity has been
thwarted.
One of the potent reasons for this our geo-
graphical separation has now been nearly re-
moved. Therefore the time has come when we
154
THE MEETING
must, for the sake of truth and for the sake of that
peace which is the harvest of truth, refuse to allow
the idea of our God to remain indistinct behind
unrealities of formal rites and theological misti-
ness.
The creature that lives its life screened and
sheltered in a dark cave, finds its safety in the very
narrowness of its own environment. The economi-
cal providence of Nature curtails and tones down
its sensibilities to such a limited necessity. But
if these cave-walls were to become suddenly re-
moved by some catastrophe, then either it must
accept the doom of extinction, or carry on satis-
factory negotiations with its wider surroundings.
The races of mankind will never again be able
to go back to their citadels of high-walled exclu-
siveness. They are to-day exposed to one another,
physically and intellectually. The shells, which
have so long given them full security within their
individual enclosures have been broken, and by no
artificial process can they be mended again. So
we have to accept this fact, even though we have
not yet fully adapted our minds to this changed
environment of publicity, even though through it
we may have to run all the risks entailed by the
wider expansion of life's freedom.
A large part of our tradition is our code of
adjustment which deals with the circumstances
special to ourselves. These traditions, no doubt,
155
THE RELIGION OF MAN
variegate the several racial personalities with their
distinctive colours colours which have their
poetry and also certain protective qualities suitable
to each different environment We may come to
acquire a strong love for our own colourful race
speciality; but if that gives us fitness only for a
very narrow world, then, at the slightest variation
in our outward circumstances, we may have to
pay for this love with our life itself.
In the animal world there are numerous in-
stances of complete race-suicide overtaking those
who fondly clung to some advantage which later
on became a hindrance in an altered dispensation.
In fact the superiority of man is proved by his
adaptability to extreme surprises of chance
neither the torrid nor the frigid zone of his destiny
offering him insuperable obstacles.
The vastness of the race problem with which
we are faced to-day will either compel us to train
ourselves to moral fitness in the place of merely
external efficiency, or the complications arising
out of it will fetter all our movements and drag us
to our death. 1
When our necessity becomes urgently insistent,
when the resources that have sustained us so long
are exhausted, then our spirit puts forth all its
force to discover some other source of sustenance
deeper and more permanent. This leads us from
1 See Appendix iy,
156
THE MEETING
the exterior to the interior of our store-house*
When muscle does not fully serve us, we come to
awaken intellect to ask for its help and are then
surprised to find in it a greater source of strength
for us than physical power. When, in their turn,
our intellectual gifts grow perverse, and only help
to render our suicide gorgeous and exhaustive, our
soul must seek an alliance with some power which
is still deeper, yet further removed from the rude
stupidity of muscle.
Hitherto the cultivation of intense race egotism
is the one thing that has found its fullest scope at
this meeting of men. In no period of human his-
tory has there been such an epidemic of moral
perversity, such a universal churning up of jeal-
ousy, greed, hatred and mutual suspicion. Every
people, weak or strong, is constantly indulging in
a violent dream of rendering itself thoroughly
hurtful to others. In this galloping competition of
hurtfulness, on the slope of a bottomless pit, no
nation dares to stop or slow down. A scarlet fever
with a raging temperature has attacked the entire
body of mankind, and political passion has taken
the place of creative personality in all departments
of life.
It is well known that when greed has for its
object material gain then it can have no end. It
is like the chasing of the horizon by a lunatic. To
go on in a competition multiplying millions be-
J57
THE RELIGION OF MAN
comes a steeplechase of insensate futility that has
obstacles but no goal. It has for its parallel the
fight with material weapons weapons which
must perpetually be multiplied, opening up new
vistas of destruction and evoking new forms of
insanity in the forging of frightfulness. Thus
seems now to have commenced the last fatal ad-
venture of drunken Passion riding on an intellect
of prodigious power.
To-day, more than ever before in our history,
the aid of spiritual power is needed. Therefore, I
believe its resources will surely be discovered in
the hidden depths of our being. Pioneers will
come to take up this adventure and suffer, and
through suffering open out a path to that higher
elevation of life in which lies our safety.
Let me, in reference to this, give an instance
from the history of Ancient India, There was a
noble period in the early days of India when, to
a band of dreamers, agriculture appeared as a
great idea and not merely useful fact The heroic
personality of Ramachandra, who espoused its
cause, was sung in popular ballads, which in a
later age forgot their original message and were
crystallized into an epic merely extolling some
domestic virtues of its hero. It is quite evident,
however, from the legendary relics lying entombed
in the story, that a new age ushered in by the
spread of agriculture came as a divine voice to
158
those who could hear. It lifted up the primeval
screen of the wilderness, brought the distant near,
and broke down all barricades- Men who had
formed separate and antagonistic groups in their
sheltered seclusions were called upon to form a
united people.
In the Vedic verses, we find constant mention of
conflicts between the original inhabitants of An-
cient India and the colonists. There we find the
expression of a spirit that was one of mutual dis-
trust and a struggle in which was sought either
wholesale slavery or extermination for the oppo-
nents carried on in the manner of animals who
live in the narrow segregation imposed upon them
by their limited imagination and imperfect sym-
pathy. This spirit would have continued in all its
ferocious vigour of savagery had men failed tc
find the opportunity for the discovery that man's
highest truth was in the union of co-operation and
love.
The progress of agriculture was the first exter-
nal step which led to such a discovery* It not onl}
made a settled life possible for a large number oJ
men living in close proximity, but it claimed foi
its very purpose a life of peaceful co-operation
The mere fact of such a sudden change from
nomadic to an agricultural condition would no
have benefited Man if he had not developed there
with his spiritual sensitiveness to an inner principL
159
THE RELIGION OF MAN
of truth. We can realize, from our reading of the
Ramayana, the birth of idealism among a section
of the Indian colonists of those days, before whose
mind's eye was opened a vision of emancipation
rich with the responsibility of a higher life. The
epic represents in its ideal the change of the peo-
ple's aspiration from the path of conquest to that
of reconciliation.
At the present time, as I have said, the human
world has been overtaken by another vast change
similar to that which had occurred in the epic age
of India. So long men had been cultivating, almost
with a religious fervour, that mentality which is
the product of racial isolation; poets proclaimed,
in a loud pitch of bragging, the exploits of their
popular fighters; money-makers felt neither pity
nor shame in the unscrupulous dexterity of their
pocket-picking; diplomats scattered lies in order
to reap concessions from the devastated future of
their own victims. Suddenly the walls that sep-
arated the different races are seen to have given
way, and we find ourselves standing face to face.
This is a great fact of epic significance. Man,
suckled at the wolf's breast, sheltered in the
brute's den, brought up in the prowling habit of
depredation, suddenly discovers that he is Man,
and that his true power lies in yielding up his
brute power for the freedom of spirit.
The God of humanity has arrived at the gates
160
THE ME ETING
of the ruined temple of the tribe. Though he has
not yet found his altar, I ask the men of simple
faith, wherever they may be in the world, to bring
their offering of sacrifice to him, and to believe
that it is far better to be wise and worshipful than
to be clever and supercilious. I ask them to claim
the right of manhood to be friends of men, and
not the right of a particular proud race or nation
which may boast of the fatal quality of being the
rulers of men. We should know for certain that
such rulers will no longer be tolerated in the new
world, as it basks in the open sunlight of mind and
breathes life's free air.
In the geological ages of the infant earth the
demons of physical force had their full sway. The
angry fire, the devouring flood, the fury of the
storm, continually kicked the earth into frightful
distortions. These titans have at last given way
to the reign of life. Had there been spectators in
those days who were clever and practical they
would have wagered their last penny on these titans
and would have waxed hilariously witty at the
expense of the helpless living speck taking its
stand in the arena of the wrestling giants. Only
a dreamer could have then declared with unwaver-
ing conviction that those titans were doomed be-
cause of their very exaggeration, as are, to-day :
those formidable qualities which, in the parlance
of schoolboy science, are termed Nordic.
161
THE RELIGION OF MAN
I ask once again, let us, the dreamers of the East
and the West, keep our faith firm in the Life that
creates and not in the Machine that constructs
in the power that hides its force and blossoms in
beauty, and not in the power that bares its arms
and chuckles at its capacity to make itself obnox-
ious. Let us know that the Machine is good when
it helps, but not so when it exploits life; that
Science is great when it destroys evil, but not when
the two enter into unholy alliance.
162
CHAPTER XII
THE TEACHER
I HAVE already described how the nebulous idea
of the divine essence condensed in my conscious-
ness into a human realization. It is definite and
finite at the same time, the Eternal Person mani-
fested in all persons. It may be one of the numer-
ous manifestations of God, the one in which is com-
prehended Man and his Universe. But we can
never know or imagine him as revealed in any
other inconceivable universe so long as we remain
human beings. And therefore, whatever character
our theology may ascribe to him, in reality he is
the infinite ideal of Man towards whom men move
in their collective growth, with whom they seek
their union of love as individuals, in whom they
find their ideal of father, friend and beloved.
I am sure that it was this idea of the divine
Humanity unconsciously working in my mind,
which compelled me to come out of the seclusion
of my literary career and take my part in the world
of practical activities. The solitary enjoyment of
the infinite in meditation no longer satisfied me,
and the texts which I used for my silent worship
163
THE RELIGION OF MAN
lost their inspiration without my knowing it. I am
sure I vaguely felt that my need was spiritual self-
realization in the life of Man through some disin-
terested service. This was the time when I founded
an educational institution for our children in Ben-
gal. It has a special character of its own which
is still struggling to find its fulfilment; for it is a
living temple that I have attempted to build for
my divinity. In such a place education necessarily
becomes the preparation for a complete life of
man which can only become possible by living
that life, through knowledge and service, enjoy-
ment and creative work. The necessity was my
own, for I felt impelled to come back into a ful-
ness of truth from my exile in a dream-world.
This brings to my mind the name of another poet
of ancient India, Kalidasa, whose poem of Meg-
haduta reverberates with the music of the sorrow
of an exile.
It was not the physical home-sickness from
which the poet suffered, it was something far more
fundamental, the home-sickness of the soul. We
feel from almost all his works the oppressive at-
mosphere of the kings' palaces of those days,
dense with things of luxury, and also with the
callousness of self-indulgence, albeit an atmos-
phere of refined culture based on an extravagant
civilization.
The poet in the royal court lived in banishment
164
THE TEACHER
banishment from the immediate presence of the
eternal. He knew it was not merely his own ban-
ishment, but that of the whole age to which he was
born, the age that had gathered its wealth and
missed its well-being, built its storehouse of things
and lost its background of the great universe.
What was the form in which his desire for perfec-
tion persistently appeared in his drama and poems?
It was the form of the tapovana, the forest-dwell-
ing of the patriarchal community of ancient India.
Those who are familiar with Sanskrit literature
will know that this was not a colony of people with
a primitive culture and mind. They were seekers
after truth, for the sake of which they lived in an
atmosphere of purity but not of Puritanism, of the
simple life but not the life of self-mortification.
They never advocated celibacy and they had con-
stant intercommunication with other people who
lived the life of worldly interest. Their aim and
endeavour have briefly been suggested in the
Upanishad in these lines :
Te sarvagam sarvatah prapya dhira
yuktatmanah sarvamevavisanti.
(Those men of serene mind enter into the All, having realized
and being in union everywhere with the omnipresent Spirit.)
It was never a philosophy of renunciation of a
negative character, but a realization completely
comprehensive. How the tortured mind of Kali-
165
THE RELIGION OF MAN
dasa in the prosperous city of Ujjaini, and the
glorious period of Vikramaditya, closely pressed
by all-obstructing things and all-devouring self,
let his thoughts hover round the vision of a tapo-
vana for his inspiration of life!
It was not a deliberate copy but a natural coin-
cidence that a poet of modern India also had the
similar vision when he felt within him the misery
of a spiritual banishment In the time of Kalidasa
the people vividly believed in the ideal of tapo-
vana, the forest colony, and there can be no doubt
that even in the late age there were communities
of men living in the heart of nature, not ascetics
fiercely in love with a lingering suicide, but men
of serene sanity who sought to realize the spiritual
meaning of their life. And, therefore, when Kali-
dasa sang of the tapovana, his poems found their
immediate communion in the living faith of his
hearers. But to-day the idea has lost any definite
outline of reality, and has retreated into the far-
away phantom-land of legend. Therefore the
Sanskrit word in a modern poem would merely
be poetical, its meaning judged by a literary stand-
ard of appraisement. Then, again, the spirit of the
forest-dwelling in the purity of its original shape
would be a fantastic anachronism in the present
age, and therefore, in order to be real, it must find
its reincarnation under modern conditions of life.
It must be the same in truth, but not identical in
166
THE TEACHER
fact. It was this which made the modern poet's
heart crave to compose his poem in a language of
tangible words.
But I must give the history in some detail.
Civilized man has come far away from the orbit of
his normal life. He has gradually formed and in-
tensified some habits that are like those of the bees
for adapting himself to his hive-world. We often
see men suffering from ennui, from world-weari-
ness, from a spirit of rebellion against their envi-
ronment for no reasonable cause whatever. Social
revolutions are constantly ushered in with a sui-
cidal violence that has its origin in our dissatisfac-
tion with our hive-wall arrangement the too
exclusive enclosure that deprives us of the perspec-
tive which is so much needed to give us the proper
proportion in our art of living. All this is an indi-
cation that man has not been moulded on the model
of the bee and therefore he becomes recklessly
anti-social when his freedom to be more than social
is ignored.
In our highly complex modern condition
mechanical forces are organized with such effi-
ciency that materials are produced that grow far
in advance of man's selective and assimilative
capacity to simplify them into harmony with his
nature and needs.
Such an intemperate overgrowth of things, like
rank vegetation in the tropics, creates confinement
167
THE RELIGION OF MAN
for man. The nest is simple, it has an early rela-
tionship with the sky; the cage is complex and
costly ; it is too much itself excommunicated from
whatever lies outside. And man is building his
cage, fast developing his parasitism on the monster
Thing, which he allows to envelop him on all
sides. He is always occupied in adapting himself
to its dead angularities, limits himself to its limita-
tions, and merely becomes a part of it.
This may seem contrary to the doctrine of those
who believe that a constant high pressure of living,
produced by an artificially cultivated hunger of
things, generates and feeds the energy that drives
civilization upon its endless journey. Personally, I
do not believe that this has ever been the principal
driving force that has led to eminence any great
civilization of which we know in history.
I was born in what was once the metropolis of
British India. My own ancestors came floating to
Calcutta upon the earliest tide of the fluctuating
fortune of the East India Company. The uncon-
vential code of life for our family has been a
confluence of three cultures, the Hindu, Moham-
medan and British. My grandfather belonged to
that period when the amplitude of dress and cour-
tesy and a generous leisure were gradually being
clipped and curtailed into Victorian manners, eco-
nomical in time, in ceremonies, and in the dignity
of personal appearance. [This will show that I
168
THE TEACHER
came to a world in which the modern citybred
spirit of progress had just begun driving its trium-
phal car over the luscious green life of our ancient
village community. Though the trampling process
was almost complete round me, yet the wailing cry
of the past was still lingering over the wreckage.
Often I had listened to my eldest brother de-
scribing with the poignancy of a hopeless regret
a society hospitable, sweet with the old-world
aroma of natural kindliness, full of simple faith
and the ceremonial-poetry of life. But all this was
a vanishing shadow behind me in the dusky golden
haze of a twilight horizon the all-pervading fact
around my boyhood being the modern city newly
built by a company of western traders and the
spirit of the modern time seeking its unaccustomed
entrance into our life, stumbling against countless
anomalies.
But it always is a surprise to me to think that
though this closed-up hardness of a city was my
only experience of the world, yet my mind was
constantly haunted by the home-sick fancies of an
exile. It seems that the sub-conscious remem-
brance of a primeval dwelling-place, where, in
our ancestor's minds, were figured and voiced the
mysteries of the inarticulate rocks, the rushing
water and the dark whispers of the forest, was con-
stantly stirring my blood with its call. Some
shadow-haunting living reminiscence in me seemed
169
THE RELIGION OF MAN
to ache for the pre-natal cradle and playground it
shared with the primal life in the illimitable magic
of the land, water and air. The shrill, thin cry of
the high-flying kite in the blazing sun of the dazed
Indian midday sent to a solitary boy the signal of
a dumb distant kinship. The few coconut plants
growing by the boundary wall of our house, like
some war captives from an older army of invaders
of this earth, spoke to me of the eternal compan-
ionship which the great brotherhood of trees has
ever offered to man.
Looking back upon those moments of my boy-
hood days, when all my mind seemed to float
poised upon a large feeling of the sky, of the light,
and to tingle with the brown earth in its glistening
grass, I cannot help believing that my Indian
ancestry had left deep in my being the legacy of
its philosophy the philosophy which speaks of
fulfilment through our harmony with all things.
The founding of my school had its origin in the
memory of that longing for the freedom of con-
sciousness, which seems to go back beyond- the
skyline of my birth.
Freedom in the mere sense of independence has
no content, and therefore no meaning. Perfect
freedom lies in a perfect harmony of relationship,
which we realize in this world not through our
response to it in knowing, but in being. Objects of
knowledge maintain an infinite distance from us
170
THE TEACHER
are the knowers. For knowledge is not union.
Therefore the further world of freedom awaits us
there where we reach truth, not through feeling it
by our senses or knowing it by our reason, but
through the union of perfect sympathy.
Children with the freshness of their senses come
lirectly to the intimacy of this world. This is the
5rst great gift they have. They must accept it
laked and simple and must never again lose their
Dower of immediate communication with it. For
3ur perfection we have to be vitally savage and
nentally civilized ; we should have the gift to be
latural with nature and human with human
society. My banished soul sitting in the civilized
isolation of the town-life cried within me for the
enlargement of the horizon of its comprehension.
[ was like the torn-away line of a verse, always in
i state of suspense, while the other line, with which
it rhymed and which could give it fulness, was
smudged by the mist away in some undecipherable
listance. The inexpensive power to be happy,
which, along with other children, I brought to
this world, was being constantly worn away by
friction with the brick-and-mortar arrangement
3f life, by monotonously mechanical habits and the
customary code of respectability.
In the usual course of things I was sent to school,
but possibly my suffering was unusually greater
than that of most other children. The non-civilized
171
THE RELIGION OF MAN
in me was sensitive; it had the great thirst for
colour, for music, for movement of life. Our city-
built education took no heed of that living fact.
It had its luggage-van waiting for branded bales of
marketable result. The relative proportion of the
non-civilized to the civilized in man should be
in the proportion of the water and the land in our
globe, the former predominating. But the school
had for its object a continual reclamation of the
civilized. Such a drain in the fluid element causes
an aridity which may not be considered deplorable
under city conditions. But my nature never got ac-
customed to those conditions, to the callous decency
of the pavement The non-civilized triumphed in
me only too soon and drove me away from school
when I had just entered my teens. I found myself
stranded on a solitary island of ignorance, and had
to rely solely upon my own instincts to build up
my education from the very beginning.
This reminds me that when I was young I had
the great good fortune of coming upon a Bengali
translation of Robinson Crusoe. I still believe that
it is the best book for boys that has ever been
written. There was a longing in me when young
to run away from my own self and be one with
everything in Nature. This mood appears to be
particularly Indian, the outcome of a traditional
desire for the expansion of consciousness. One has
to admit that such a desire is too subjective in its
172
THE TEACHER
character ; but this is inevitable in the geographical
circumstances which we have to endure. We live
under the extortionate tyranny of the tropics, pay-
ing heavy toll every moment for the barest right of
existence. The heat, the damp, the unspeakable
fecundity of minute life feeding upon big life, the
perpetual sources of irritation, visible and invis-
ible, leave very little margin of capital for extrava-
gant experiments. Excess of energy seeks obstacles
for its self-realization. That is why we find so
often in Western literature a constant emphasis
upon the malignant aspect of Nature, in whom the
people of the West seem to be delighted to discover
an enemy for the sheer enjoyment of challenging
her to fight. The reason which made Alexander
express his desire to find other worlds to conquer,
when his conquest of the world was completed,
makes the enormously vital people of the West
desire, when they have some respite in their sub-
lime mission of fighting against objects that are
noxious, to go out of their way to spread their coat-
tails in other people's thoroughfares and to claim
indemnity when these are trodden upon. In order
to make the thrilling risk of hurting themselves
they are ready to welcome endless trouble to hurt
others who are inoffensive, such as the beautiful
birds which happen to know how to fly away, the
timid beasts, which have the advantage of inhabit-
ing inaccessible regions, and but I avoid the dis~
THE RELIGION OF MAN
courtesy of mentioning higher races in this con-
nection.
Life's fulfilment finds constant contradictions in
its path ; but those are necessary for the sake of its
advance. The stream is saved from the sluggish-
ness of its current by the perpetual opposition of
the soil through which it must cut its way. It is
this soil which forms its banks. The spirit of fight
belongs to the genius of life. The tuning of an
instrument has to be done, not because it reveals
a proficient perseverance in the face of difficulty,
but because it helps music to be perfectly realized.
Let us rejoice that in the West life's instrument is
being tuned in all its different chords owing to the
great fact that the West has triumphant pleasure
in the struggle with obstacles. The spirit of crea-
tion in the heart of the universe will never allow,
for its own sake, obstacles to be completely re-
moved. It is only because positive truth lies in that
ideal of perfection, which has to be won by our
own endeavour in order to make it our own, that
the spirit of fight is great But this does not imply
a premium for the exhibition of a muscular
athleticism or a rude barbarism of ravenous
rapacity.
In Robinson Crusoe, the delight of the union
with Nature finds its expression in a story of ad-
venture in which the solitary Man is face to face
with solitary Nature, coaxing her, co-operating
174
THE TEACHER
with her, exploring her secrets, using all his facul-
ties to win her help.
This is the heroic love-adventure of the West,
the active wooing of the earth. I remember how,
once in my youth, the feeling of intense delight
and wonder followed me in my railway journey
across Europe from Brindisi to Calais, when I
realized the chaste beauty of this continent every-
where blossoming in a glow of health and richness
under the age-long attention of her chivalrous
lover, Western humanity. He had gained her,
made her his own, unlocked the inexhaustible gen-
erosity of her heart. And I had intently wished
that the introspective vision of the universal soul,
which an Eastern devotee realizes in the solitude
of his mind, could be united with this spirit of its
outward expression in service, the exercise of will
in unfolding the wealth of beauty and well-being
from its shy obscurity to the light.
I remember the morning when a beggar woman
in a Bengal village gathered in the loose end of her
sari the stale flowers that were about to be thrown
away from the vase on my table; and with an
ecstatic expression of tenderness buried her face
in them, exclaiming, "Oh, Beloved of my Heart!"
Her eyes could easily pierce the veil of the outward
form and reach the realm of the infinite in these
flowers, where she found the intimate touch of her
Beloved, the great, the universal Human. But in
175
THE RELIGION OF MAN
spite of it all she lacked that energy of worship,
that Western form of direct divine service, the
service of man, which helps the earth to bring out
her flowers and spread the reign of beauty on the
desolate dust. I refuse to think that the twin spirits
of the East and the West, the Mary and Martha,
can never meet to make perfect the realization of
truth. And in spite of our material poverty in the
East and the antagonism of time I wait patiently
for this meeting.
Robinson Crusoe's island conies to my mind
when I think of some institution where the first
great lesson in the perfect union of Man and
Nature, not only through love, but through active
communication and intelligent ways, can be had
unobstructed. We have to keep in mind the fact
that love and action are the only intermediaries
through which perfect knowledge can be obtained ;
for the object of knowledge is not pedantry but
wisdom. The primary object of an institution
should not be merely to educate one's limbs and
mind to be in efficient readiness for all emergen-
cies, but to be in perfect tune in the symphony of
response between life and world, to find the balance
of their harmony which is wisdom. The first im-
portant lesson for children in such a place would
be that of improvisation, the constant imposition
of the ready-made having been banished from
here. It is to give occasions to explore one's
176
THE TEACHER
capacity through surprises of achievement I must
make it plain that this means a lesson not in simple
life, but in creative life. For life may grow com-
plex, and yet if there is a living personality in its
centre, it will still have the unity of creation; it
will carry its own weight in perfect grace, and will
not be a mere addition to the number of facts that
only goes to swell a crowd.
I wish I could say that I had fully realized my
dream in my school. I have only made the first
introduction towards it and have given an oppor-
tunity to the children to find their freedom in
Nature by being able to love it. For love is free-
dom; it gives us that fulness of existence which
saves us from paying with our soul for objects that
are immensely cheap. Love lights up this world
with its meaning and makes life feel that it has that
"enough" everywhere which truly is its "feast".
I know men who preach the cult of simple life by
glorifying the spiritual merit of poverty. I refuse
to imagine any special value in poverty when it is a
mere negation. Only when the mind has the sensi-
tiveness to be able to respond to the deeper call of
reality is it naturally weaned away from the lure
of the fictitious value of things. It is callousness
which robs us of our simple power to enjoy, and
dooms us to the indignity of a snobbish pride in
furniture and the foolish burden of expensive
things. But the callousness of asceticism pitted
*77
THE RELIGION OF MAN
against the callousness of luxury is merely fighting
one evil with the help of another, inviting the piti-
less demon of the desert in place of the indiscrimi-
nate demon of the jungle,
I tried my best to develop in the children of my
school the freshness of their feeling for Nature,
a sensitiveness of soul in their relationship with
their human surroundings, with the help of litera-
ture, festive ceremonials and also the religious
teaching which enjoins us to come to the nearer
presence of the world through the soul,, thuscjo
gain it more than can be measured like gaining
an instrument in truth by bringing out its music.
178
CHAPTER XIII
SPIRITUAL FREEDOM
THERE are injuries that attack our life; they hurt
the harmony of life's functions through which is
maintained the harmony of our physical self with
the physical world; and these injuries are called
diseases. There are also factors that oppress our
intelligence. They injure the harmony of relation-
ship between our rational mind and the universe
of reason; and we call them stupidity, ignorance
or insanity. They are uncontrolled exaggerations
of passions that upset all balance in our personal-
ity. They obscure the harmony between the spirit
of the individual man and the spirit of the uni-
versal Man; and we give them the name sin. In
all these instances our realization of the universal
Man, in his physical, rational and spiritual aspects,
is obstructed, and our true freedom in the realms
of matter, mind and spirit is made narrow or
distorted.
All the higher religions of India speak of the
training for Mukti, the liberation of the soul. In
this self of ours we are conscious of individuality
and all its activities are engaged in the expressior
179
THE RELIGION OF MAN
and enjoyment of our finite and individual nature.
In our soul we are conscious of the transcendental
truth in us, the Universal, the Supreme Man ; and
this soul, the spiritual self, has its enjoyment in the
renunciation of the individual self for the sake of
the supreme soul. This renunciation is not in the
negation of self, but in the dedication of it The
desire for it comes from an instinct which very
often knows its own meaning vaguely and gropes
for a name that would define its purpose. This
purpose is in the realization of its unity with some
objective ideal of perfections, some harmony of
relationship between the individual and the infinite
man. It is of this harmony, and not of a barren
isolation that the Upanishad speaks, when it says
that truth no longer remains hidden in him who
finds himself in the All.
Once when I was on a visit to a remote Bengali
village, mostly inhabited by Mahomedan culti-
vators, the villagers entertained me with an op r -
eratic performance the literature of which belonged
to an obsolete religious sect that had wide influence
centuries ago. Though the religion itself is dead,
its voice still continues preaching its philosophy to
a people, who, in spite of their different culture,
are not tired of listening. It discussed according
to its own doctrine the different elements, material
and transcendental, that constitute human person-
ality, comprehending the body, the self and the
180
SPIRITUAL FREEDOM
soul. Then came a dialogue, during the course of
which was related the incident of a person who
wanted to make a journey to Brindaban, the Gar-
den of Bliss, but was prevented by a watchman
who startled him with an accusation of theft. The
thieving was proved when it was shown that inside
his clothes he was secretly trying to smuggle into
the garden the self, which only finds its fulfilment
by its surrender. The culprit was caught with the
incriminating bundle in his possession which
barred for him his passage to the supreme goal.
Under a tattered canopy, supported on bamboo
poles and lighted by a few smoking kerosene
lamps, the village crowd, occasionally interrupted
by howls of jackals in the neighbouring paddy
fields, attended with untired interest, till the small
hours of the morning, the performance of a drama
that discussed the ultimate meaning of all things
in a seemingly incongruous setting of dance, music
and humorous dialogue.
This illustration will show how naturally, in
India, poetry and philosophy have walked hand in
hand, only because the latter has claimed its right
to guide men to the practical path of their life's
fulfilment. What is that fulfilment? It is our free-
dom in truth, which has for its prayer :
Lead us from the unreal to reality,
For satyam is anandam, the Real is Joy.
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THE RELIGION OF MAN
In the world of art, our consciousness being
freed from the tangle of self interest, we gain an
unobstructed vision of unity, the incarnation of
the real, which is a joy for ever.
As in the world of art, so in the spiritual world,
our soul waits for its freedom from the ego to
reach that disinterested joy which is the source and
goal of creation. It cries for its mukti, its freedom
in the unity of truth. The idea of mukti has af-
fected our lives in India, touched the springs of
pure emotions and supplications; for it soars
heavenward on the wings of poesy. We constantly
hear men of scanty learning and simple faith sing-
ing in their prayer to Tara, the Goddess Re-
deemer :
"For what sin should I be compelled to remain
in this dungeon of the world of appearance?"
They are afraid of being alienated from the
world of truth, afraid of perpetual drifting amidst
the froth and foam of things, of being tossed about
by the tidal waves of pleasure and pain and never
reaching the ultimate meaning of life. Of these
men, one may be a carter driving his cart to mar-
ket, another a fisherman plying his net. They may
not be prompt with an intelligent answer if they
are questioned about the deeper import of the song
they sing, but they have no doubt in their^mind,
that the abiding cause of all misery is not so much
in the lack of life's furniture as in the obscurity
182
SPIRITUAL FREEDOM
of life's significance. It is a common topic with
such to decry an undue emphasis upon "me" and
"mine", which falsifies the perspective of truth.
For have they not often seen men, who are not
above their own level in social position or intellec-
tual acquirement, going out to seek Truth, leaving
everything that they have behind them?
They know that the object of these adventurers
is not betterment in worldly wealth and power
it is muktij freedom. They possibly know some
poor fellow villager of their own craft, who re-
mains in the world carrying on his daily vocation
and yet has the reputation of being emancipated in
the heart of the Eternal. I myself have come across
a fisherman singing with an inward absorption of
mind, while fishing all day in the Ganges, who was
pointed out to me by my boatman, with awe, as a
man of liberated spirit He is out of reach of the
conventional prices that are set upon men by so-
ciety, and which classify them like toys arranged
in the shop-windows according to the market
standard of value.
When the figure of this fisherman comes to my
mind, I cannot but think that their number is not
small who with their lives sing the epic of the
unfettered soul, but will never be known in his-
tory. These unsophisticated Indian peasants know
that an Emperor is merely a decorated slave, re-
maining chained to his Empire, that a millionaire
183
THE RELIGION OF MAN
is kept pilloried by his fate in the golden cage of
his wealth, while this fisherman is free in the realm
of light When, groping in the dark, we stumble
against objects, we cling to them believing them
to be our only hope.. When light comes, we slacken
our hold, finding them to be mere parts of the
All to which we are related. The simple man of
the village knows what freedom is freedom from
the isolation of self, from the isolation of things,
which imparts a fierce intensity to our sense of
possession. He knows that this freedom is not the
mere negation of bondage, in the bareness of our
belongings, but in some positive realization which
gives pure joy to our being, and he sings: "To
him who sinks into the deep, nothing remains
unattained." He says again:
Let my two minds meet and combine,
And lead me to the city Wonderful.
When that one mind of ours which wanders in
search of things in the outer region of the varied,
and the other which seeks the inward vision of
unity, are no longer in conflict, they help us to
realize the ajab, the anirvachaniya, the ineffable.
The poet saint Kabir has also the same message
when he sings :
By saying that Supreme Reality only dwells in the inner realm
of spirit, we shame the outer world of matter; and also when
we say that he is only in the outside, we do not speak the
truth.
184
SPIRITUAL FREEDOM
According to these singers, truth is in unity, and
therefore freedom is in its realization. The texts
of our daily worship and meditation are for train-
ing our mind to overcome the barrier of separate-
ness from the rest of existence and to realize
advaitam, the Supreme Unity which is anantam, in-
finitude. It is philosophical wisdom, having its
universal radiation in the popular mind in India,
that inspires our prayer, our daily spiritual prac-
tices. It has its constant urging for us to go beyond
the world of appearances, in which facts as facts
are alien to us, like the mere sounds of foreign
music; it speaks to us of an emancipation in the
inner truth of all things, where the endless Many
reveal the One.
Freedom in the material world has also the
same meaning expressed in its own language.
When nature's phenomena appeared to us as
irrelevant, as heterogeneous manifestations of an
obscure and irrational caprice, we lived in an alien
world never dreaming of our swaraj within'its ter-
ritory. Through the discovery of the harmony of
its working with that of our reason, we realize our
unity with it, and therefore our freedom.
Those who have been brought up in a mis-
understanding of this world's process, not knowing
that it is one with themselves through the relation-
ship of knowledge and intelligence, are trained as
cowards by a hopeless faith in the ordinance of
185
THE RELIGION OF MAN
a destiny darkly dealing its blows. They submit
without struggle when human rights are denied
them, being accustomed to imagine themselves
born as outlaws in a world constantly thrusting
upon them incomprehensible surprises of accidents.
Also in the social or political field, the lack of
freedom is based upon the spirit of alienation, on
the imperfect realization of the One. There our
bondage is in the tortured link of union. One may
imagine that an individual who succeeds in dis-
sociating himself from his fellow attains real free-
dom, inasmuch as all ties of relationship imply
obligation to others. But we know that, though it
may sound paradoxical, it is true that in the human
world only a perfect arrangement of interdepend-
ence gives rise to freedom. The most individualis-
tic of human beings who own no responsibility are
the savages who fail to attain their fulness of man-
ifestation. They live immersed in obscurity, like
an ill-lighted fire that cannot liberate itself from
its envelope of smoke. Only those may attain their
freedom from the segregation of an eclipsed life
who have the power to cultivate mutual under-
standing and co-operation. The history of the
growth of freedom is the history of the perfection
of human relationship.
It has become possible for men to say that exist-
ence is evil, only because in our blindness we have
missed something wherein our existence has its
186
SPIRITUAL FREEDOM
truth. If a bird tries to soar with only one of its
wings, it is offended with the wind for buffeting it
down to the dust All broken truths are evil. They
hurt because they suggest something they do not
offer. Death does not hurt us, but disease does,-
because disease constantly reminds us of health
and yet withholds it from us. And life in a half-
world is evil because it feigns finality when it is
obviously incomplete, giving us the cup but not
the draught of life. All tragedies result from truth
remaining a fragment, its cycle not being com-
pleted. That cycle finds its end when the indi-
vidual realizes the universal and thus reaches
freedom.
But because this freedom is in truth itself and
not in an appearance of it, no hurried path of suc-
cess, forcibly cut out by the greed of result, can be
a true path. And an obscure village poet, unknown
to the world of recognized respectability, sings:
O cruel man of urgent need, must you scorch with fire the
mind which still is a bud? You will burst it into bits, destroy
its perfume in your impatience. Do you not see that my Lord,
the Supreme Teacher, takes ages to perfect the flower and never
is in a fury of haste? But because of your terrible greed, you
only rely on force, and what hope is there for you, O man of
urgent need? "Prithi", says Madan the poet, "Hurt not the
mind of my Teacher. Know that only he who follows the
simple current and loses himself, can hear the voice, O man of
urgent need."
This poet knows that there is no external means of
187
THE RELIGION OF MAN
taking freedom by the throat. It is the inward
process of losing ourselves that leads to it Bondage
in all its forms has its stronghold in the inner self
and not in the outside world; it is in the dimming
of our consciousness, in the narrowing of our per-
spective, in the wrong valuation of things.
Let me conclude this chapter with a song of the
Baiil sect in Bengal, over a century old, in which
the poet sings of the eternal bond of union between
the infinite and the finite soul, from which there can
be no mukti, because love is ultimate, because it is
an inter-relation which makes truth complete, be-
cause absolute independence is the blankness of
utter servility. The song runs thus :
It goes on blossoming for ages, the soul-lotus, in which I am
bound, as well as thou, without escape. There is no end to the
opening of its petals, and the honey in it has so much sweetness
that thou, like an enchanted bee, canst never desert it, and
therefore thou art bound, and I am, and mukti is nowhere.
188
CHAPTER XIV
THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE
I HAVE expressly said that I have concentrated my
attention upon the subject of religion which is
solely related to man, helping him to train his atti-
tude and behaviour towards the infinite in its hu-
man aspect. At the same time it should be under-
stood that the tendency of the Indian mind has
ever been towards that transcendentalism which
does not hold religion to be ultimate but rather to
be a means to a further end. This end consists in
the perfect liberation of the individual in the uni-
versal spirit across the furthest limits of humanity
itself.
Such an extreme form of mysticism may be ex-
plained to my Western readers by its analogy in
science. For science may truly be described as
mysticism in the realm of material knowledge. It
helps us to go beyond appearances and reach the
inner reality of things in principles which are
abstractions; it emancipates our mind from the
thraldom of the senses to the freedom of reason.
The commonsense view of the world that is ap-
parent to us has its vital importance for ourselves.
189
THE RELIGION OF MAN
For all our practical purposes the earth is flat, the
sun does set behind the western horizon and what-
ever may be the verdict of the great mathematician
about the lack of consistency in time's dealings we
should fully trust it in setting our watches right
In questions relating to the arts and our ordinary
daily avocations we must treat material objects as
they seem to be and not as they are in essence. But
the revelations of science even when they go far
beyond man's power of direct perception give him
the purest feeling of disinterested delight and a
supersensual background to his world. Science
offers us the mystic knowledge of matter which
very often passes the range of our imagination. We
humbly accept it following those teachers who
have trained their reason to free itself from the
trammels of appearance or personal preferences.
Their mind dwells in an impersonal infinity where
there is no distinction between good and bad, high
and low, ugly and beautiful, useful and useless,
where all things have their one common right of
recognition, that of their existence.
The final freedom of spirit which India aspires
after has a similar character of realization* It is
beyond all limits of personality, divested of all
moral, or aesthetic distinctions ; it is the pure con-
sciousness of Being, the ultimate reality which has
an infinite illumination of bliss. Though science
brings our thoughts to the utmost limit of mind's
190
THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE
territory it cannot transcend its own creation made
of a harmony of logical symbols. In it the chick
has come out of its shell but not out of the defini-
tion of its own chickenhood. But in India it has
been said by the yogi that through an intensive
process of concentration and quietude our con-
sciousness does reach that infinity where knowledge
ceases to be knowledge, subject and object become
one, a state of existence that cannot be defined.
We have our personal self. It has its desires
which struggle to create a world where they could
have their unrestricted activity and satisfaction.
While it goes on we discover that our self-realiza-
tion reaches its perfection in the abnegation of self.
This fact has made us aware that the individual
finds his meaning in a fundamental reality compre-
hending all individuals the reality which is the
moral and spiritual basis of the realm of human
values. This belongs to our religion. As science is
the liberation of our knowledge in the universal
reason which cannot be other than human reason,
religion is the liberation of our individual person-
ality in the universal Person who is human all the
same.
The ancient explorers in psychology in India
who declare that our emancipation can be carried
still further into a realm where infinity is not
bounded by human limitations, are not content
with advancing this as a doctrine; they advocate
THE RELIGION OF MAN
its pursuit for the attainment of the highest goal of
man. And for its sake the path of discipline has
been planned which should be opened out across
our life through all its stages helping us to develop
our humanity to perfection so that we may surpass
it in a finality of freedom.
Perfection has its two aspects in man which can
to some extent be separated, the perfection in
being, and perfection in doing. It can be imagined
that through some training or compulsion good
works may possibly be extorted from a man who
personally may not be good. Activities that have
fatal risks are often undertaken by cowards even
though they are conscious of the danger. Such works
may be useful and may continue to exist beyond the
lifetime of the individual who produced them. And
yet where the question is not that of utility but of
moral perfection we hold it important that the
individual should be true in his goodness. His
outer good work may continue to produce good
results but the inner perfection of his personality
has its own immense value which for him is spirit-
ual freedom and for humanity is an endless asset
though we may not know it. For goodness repre-
sents the detachment of our spirit from the exclu-
siveness of our egoism; in goodness we identify
ourselves with the universal humanity. Its value
is not merely in some benefit for our fellow beings
but in its truth itself through which we realize
192
THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE
within us that man is not merely an animal bound
by his individual passions and appetites but a spirit
that has its unfettered perfection. Goodness is the
freedom of our self in the world of man, as is love.
We have to be true within, not for worldly duties
but for that spiritual fulfilment, which is in har-
mony with the Perfect, in union with the Eternal.
If this were not true, then mechanical perfection
would be considered to be of higher value than the
spiritual. In order to realize his unity with the
universal, the individual man must live his perfect
life which alone gives him the freedom to tran-
scend it
Doubtless Nature, for its own biological pur-
poses, has created in us a strong faith in life, by
keeping us unmindful of death. Nevertheless, not
only our physical existence, but also the environ-
ment which it builds up around itself, may desert
us in the moment of triumph, the greatest pros-
perity comes to its end, dissolving into emptiness;
the mightiest empire is overtaken by stupor amidst
the flicker of its festival lights. All this is none the
less true because its truism bores us to be reminded
of it
And yet it is equally true that, though all our
mortal relationships have their end, we cannot
ignore them with impunity while they last If we
behave as if they do not exist, merely because they
will not continue forever, they will all the same
193
THE RELIGION OF MAN
exact their dues, with a great deal over by way of
penalty. Trying to ignore bonds that are real,
albeit temporary, only strengthens and prolongs
their bondage. The soul is great, but the self has
to be crossed over in order to reach it. We do not
attain our goal by destroying our path.
Our teachers in ancient India realized the soul
of man as something very great indeed. They saw
no end to its dignity, which found its consumma-
tion in Brahma himself. Any limited view of man
would therefore be an incomplete view. He could
not reach his finality as a mere Citizen or
Patriot, for neither City nor Country nor the bub-
ble called the World, could contain his eternal
soul.
Bhartrihari, who was once a king, has said :
What if you have secured the fountain-head of all desires ; what
if you have put your foot on the neck of your enemy, or by
your good fortune gathered friends around you? What, even,
if you have succeeded in keeping mortal bodies alive for ages
tatah kirn, what then?
That is to say, man is greater than all these ob-
jects of his desire. He is true in his freedom.
But in the process of attaining freedom one must
bind his will in order to save its forces from dis-
traction and wastage, so as to gain for it the veloc-
ity which comes from the bondage itself. Those
also, who seek liberty in a purely political plane,
constantly curtail it and reduce their freedom of
194
THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE
thought and action to that narrow limit which is
necessary for making political power secure, very
often at the cost of liberty of conscience.
India had originally accepted the bonds of her
social system in order to transcend society, as the
rider puts reins on his horse and stirrups on his
own feet in order to ensure greater speed towards
his goal.
The Universe cannot be so madly conceived that
desire should be an interminable song with no
finale. And just as it is painful to stop in the mid-
dle of the tune, it should be as pleasant to reach its
final cadence.
India has not advised us to come to a sudden
stop while work is in full swing. It is true that the
unending procession of the world has gone on,
through its ups and downs, from the beginning of
creation till to-day; but it is equally obvious that
each individual's connection therewith does get
finished. Must he necessarily quit it without any
sense of fulfilment?
So, in the divisions of man's world-life which
we had in India, work came in the middle, and
freedom at the end. As the day is divided into
morning, noon, afternoon and evening, so India
had divided man's life into four parts, following
the requirements of his nature. The day has the
waxing and waning of its light; so has man the
waxing and waning of his bodily powers. Ac-
J9S
THE RELIGION OF MAN
knowledging this, India gave a connected meaning
to his life from start to finish.
First came brahmacharya, the period of disci-
pline in education; then garhasthya, that of the
world's work; then vanaprasthya, the retreat for
the loosening of bonds; and finally pravrajya, the
expectant awaiting of freedom across death.
We have come to look upon life as a conflict
with death, the intruding enemy, not the natural
ending, in impotent quarrel with which we spend
every stage of it. When the time comes for youth
to depart, we would hold it back by main force.
When the fervour of desire slackens, we would
revive it with fresh fuel of our own devising. When
our sense organs weaken, we urge them to keep up
their efforts. Even when our grip has relaxed we
are reluctant to give up possession. We are not
trained to recognize the inevitable as natural, and
so cannot give up gracefully that which has to go,
but needs must wait till it is snatched from us. The
truth comes as conqueror only because we have
lost the art of receiving it as guest
The stem of the ripening fruit becomes loose,
its pulp soft, but its seed hardens with provision
for the next life. Our outward losses, due to age,
have likewise corresponding inward gains. But,
in man's inner life, his will plays a dominant part,
so that these gains depend on his own disciplined
196
THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE
striving; that is why, in the case of undisciplined
man, who has omitted to secure such provision for
the next stage, it is so often seen that his hair is
grey, his mouth toothless, his muscles slack, and
yet his stem-hold on life has refused to let go its
grip, so much so that he is anxious to exercise his
will in regard to worldly details even after death.
But renounce we must, and through renuncia-
tion gain, that is the truth of the inner world.
The flower must shed its petals for the sake of
fruition, the fruit must drop off for the re-birth of
the tree. The child leaves the refuge of the womb
in order to achieve the further growth of body and
mind in which consists the whole of the child life;
next, the soul has to come out of this self-contained
stage into the fuller life, which has varied relations
with kinsman and neighbour, together with whom
it forms a larger body; lastly comes the decline of
the body, the weakening of desire, and, enriched
with its experiences, the soul now leaves the nar-
rower life for the universal life, to which it dedi-
cates its accumulated wisdom and itself enters into
relations with the Life Eternal; so that, when
finally the decaying body has come to the very end
of its tether, the soul views its breaking away quite
simply and without regret, in the expectation of
its own entry into the Infinite.
From individual body to community, from com-
197
THE RELIGION OF MAN
munity to universe, from universe to Infinity,
this is the soul's normal progress.
Our teachers, therefore, keeping in mind the
goal of this progress, did not, in life's first stage
of education, prescribe merely the learning of
books or things, but brahmacharya, the living in
discipline, whereby both enjoyment and its renun-
ciation would come with equal ease to the strength-
ened character. Life being a pilgrimage, with lib-
eration in Brahma as its object, the living of it was
as a spiritual exercise to be carried through its dif-
ferent stages, reverently and with a vigilant deter-
mination. And the pupil, from his very initiation,
had this final consummation always kept in his
view.
Once the mind refuses to be bound by temperate
requirements, there ceases to be any reason why it
should cry halt at any particular limit; and so,
like trying to extinguish fire with oil, its acquisi-
tions only make its desires blaze up all the fiercer.
That is why it is so essential to habituate the mind,
from the very beginning, to be conscious of, and
desirous of, keeping within the natural limits; to
cultivate the spirit of enjoyment which is allied
with the spirit of freedom, the readiness for renun-
ciation.
After the period of such training comes the
period of world-life, the life of the householder.
Manu tells us:
198
THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE
It is not possible to discipline ourselves so effectively if out of
touch with the world, as while pursuing the world-life with
wisdom.
That is to say, wisdom does not attain complete-
ness except through the living of life; and disci-
pline divorced from wisdom is not true discipline,
but merely the meaningless following of custom,
which is only a disguise for stupidity.
Work, especially good work, becomes easy only
when desire has learnt to discipline itself. Then
alone does the householder's state become a centre
of welfare for all the world, and instead of being
an obstacle, helps on the final liberation.
The second stage of life having been thus spent,
the decline of the bodily powers must be taken as
a warning that it is coming to its natural end. This
must not be taken dismally as a notice of dismissal
to one still eager to stick to his post, but joyfully
as maturity may be accepted as the stage of ful-
filment.
After the infant leaves the womb, it still has to
remain close to its mother for a time, remaining
attached in spite of its detachment, until it can
adapt itself to its new freedom. Such is the case
in the third stage of life, when man though aloof
from the world still remains in touch with it while
preparing himself for the final stage of complete
freedom. He still gives to the world from his store
of wisdom and accepts its support ; but this inter-
199
THE RELIGION OF MAN
change is not of the same intimate character as in
the stage of the householder, there being a new
sense of distance.
Then at last comes a day when even such free
relations have their end, and the emancipated soul
steps out of all bonds to face the Supreme Soul.
Only in this way can man's world-life be truly
lived from one end to the other, without being en-
gaged at every step in trying "conclusions with
death, not being overcome, when death comes in
due course, as by a conquering enemy.
For this fourfold way of life India attunes man
to the grand harmony of the universal, leaving no
room for untrained desires of a rampant individu-
alism to pursue their destructive career unchecked,
but leading them on to their ultimate modulation
in the Supreme.
If we really believe this, then we must uphold
an ideal of life in which everything else, the dis-
play of individual power, the might of nations,
must be counted as subordinate and the soul of man
must triumph and liberate itself from the bond of
personality which keeps it in an ever revolving
circle of limitation.
If that is not to be, tatah kirn, what then?
But such an ideal of the utter extinction of the
individual separateness has not a universal sanction
in India. There are many of us whose prayer is
for dualism so that for them the bond of devotion
200
THE FOUR STAGES OP LIFE
with God may continue forever. For them religion
is a truth which is ultimate and they refuse to envy
those who are ready to sail for the further shore of
existence across humanity. They know that human
imperfection is the cause of our sorrow but there
is a fulfilment in love within the range of our lim-
itation which accepts all sufferings and yet rises
above them.
201
CHAPTER XV
CONCLUSION
IN the Sanskrit Language the bird is described
as "twice-born" once in its limited shell and then
finally in the freedom of the unbounded sky. Those
of our community who believe in the liberation of
man's limited self in the freedom of the spirit re-
tain the same epithet for themselves. In all de-
partments of life man shows this dualism his
existence within the range of obvious facts and his
transcendence of it in a realm of deeper meaning.
Having this instinct inherent in his mind which
ever suggests to him the crossing of the border,
he has never accepted what is apparent as final and
his incessant struggle has been to break through
the shell of his limitations. In this attempt he
often goes against the instincts of his vital nature,
and even exults in his defiance of the extreme penal
laws of the biological kingdom. The best wealth
of his civilization has been achieved by his follow-
ing the guidance of this instinct in his ceaseless
adventure of the Endless Further, His achieve-
ment of truth goes far beyond his needs and the
realization of his self strives across the frontier
202
CONCLUSION
of its individual interest. This proves to him his
infinity and makes his religion real to him by his
own manifestation in truth and goodness. Only
for man there can be religion because his evolution
is from efficiency in nature towards the perfection
of spirit.
According to some interpretations of the Ve-
danta doctrine Brahman is the absolute Truth, the
impersonal It, in which there can be no distinction
of this and that, the good and the evil, the beauti-
ful and its opposite, having no other quality except
its ineffable blissfulness in the eternal solitude of
its consciousness utterly devoid of all things and
all thoughts. But, as our religion can only have its
significance in this phenomenal world compre-
hended by our human self, this absolute conception
of Brahman is outside the subject of my discussion.
What I have tried to bring out in this book is the
fact that whatever name may have been given to
the divine Reality it has found its highest place
in the history of our religion owing to its human
character, giving meaning to the idea of sin and
sanctity, and offering an eternal background to all
the ideals of perfection which have their harmony
with man's own nature.
We have the age-long tradition in our country,
as I have already stated, that through the process
of yoga man can transcend the utmost bounds of
his humanity and find himself in a pure state of
203
THE RELIGION OF MAN
consciousness of his undivided unity with Para-
brahman, There is none who has the right to con-
tradict this belief ; for it is a matter of direct ex-
perience and not of logic. It is widely known in
India that there are individuals who have the
power to attain temporarily the state of Samadhi,
the complete merging of the self in the infinite, a
state which is indescribable. While accepting their
testimony as true, let us at the same time have faith
in the testimony of others who have felt a profound
love, which is the intense feeling of union, for a
Being who comprehends in himself all things that
are human in knowledge, will and action. And he
is God, who is not merely a sum total of facts, but
the goal that lies immensely beyond all that is
comprised in the past and the present
204
APPENDICES
APPENDIX I
THE BAttL SINGERS OF BENGAL
(The following account of the Baiils in Northern India has
been given in the Visvabharati Quarterly by my friend
and fellow-worker, Professor Kshiti Mohun Sen of
Santiniketan, to whom I am grateful for having kindly
allowed me to reproduce what he has written in this
Appendix. )
Baiil means madcap, from bayu (Skt. Vayu) in its
sense of nerve current, and has become the appel-
lation of a set of people who do not conform to
established social usage. This derivation is sup-
ported by the following verse of Narahari :
That is why, brother, I became a madcap Baiil.
No master I obey, nor injunctions, canons or custom.
Now no men-made distinctions have any hold on me,
And I revel only in the gladness of my own welling love.
In love there's no separation, but commingling always.
So I rejoice in song and dance with each and all.
These lines also introduce us to the main tenets of
the cult The freedom, however, that the Baiils
seek from all forms of outward compulsion goes
even further, for among such are recognized as
well the compulsions exerted by our desires and
antipathies. Therefore, according to this cult, in
order to gain real freedom, one has first to die to
the life of the world whilst still in the flesh for
only then can one be rid of all extraneous claims.
Those of the Baiils who have Islamic leanings call
such "death in life'* fana, a term -used by the Sufis
207
THE RELIGION OF MAN
to denote union with the Supreme Being. True
love, according to the Baiils, is incompatible with
any kind of compulsion. Unless the bonds of neces-
sity are overcome, liberation is out of the question.
Love represents the wealth of life which is in excess
of need. . . . From hard, practical politics touch-
ing our earth to the nebulous regions of abstract
metaphysics, everywhere India expressed the
power of her genius equally well. . , And yet
none of these, neither severally nor collectively,
constituted her specific genius; none showed the
full height to which she could raise herself, none
compassed the veritable amplitude of her inner-
most reality. It is when we come to the domain
of the Spirit, of God-realization, that we find the
real nature and stature and genius of the Indian
people ; it is here that India lives and moves as in
her own home of Truth.
The Baiil cult is followed by householders as
well as homeless wanderers, neither of whom ac-
knowledge class or caste, special deities, temples
or sacred places. Though they congregate on the
occasion of religious festivals, mainly of the Vaish-
navas, held in special centres, they never enter any
temple. They do not set uj> any images of divini-
ties, or religious symbols, in their own places of
worship or mystic realization. True, they some-
times maintain with care and reverence spots sacred
to some esteemed master or devotee, but they per-
form no worship there. Devotees from the lowest
strata of the Hindu and Moslem communities are
welcomed into their ranks, hence the Bauls are
looked down upon by both. It is possible that their
own contempt for temples had its origin in the
208
A PPENDICES
denial of admittance therein to their low class
brethren. What need, say they, have we of other
temples, is not this body of ours the temple where
the Supreme Spirit has His abode? The human
body, despised by most other religions, is thus for
them the holy of holies, wherein the Divine is
intimately enshrined as the Man of the Heart.
And in this wise is the dignity of Man upheld by
them.
Kabir, Nanak, Ravidas, Dadu and his followers
have also called man's body the temple of God
the microcosm in which the cosmic abode of the
all-pervading Supreme Being is represented.
Kabir says :
In this body is the Garden of Paradise; herein are comprised
the seven seas and the myriad stars ; here is the Creator mani-
fest (I. 101.)
Dadu says:
This body is my scripture; herein the All-Merciful has written
for me His message.
Rajjab (Dadu's chief Moslem disciple) says:
Within the devotee is the paper on which the scriptures are
written in letters of Life. But few care to read them; they
turn a deaf ear to the message of the heart.
Most Indian sects adopt some distinct way of keep-
ing the hair of head and face as a sign of their
sect or order. Therefore, so as to avoid being
dragged into any such distinctions, the Baiils allow
hair and beard and moustache to grow freely.
Thus do we remain simple, they say. The similar
practice of the Sikhs in this matter is to be noted.
209
THE RELIGION OF MAN
Neither do the Baiils believe that lack of clothing
or bareness of body conduce to religious merit
According to them the whole body should be kept
decently covered. Hence their long robe, for
which, if they cannot afford a new piece of cloth,
they gather rags and make it of patches. In this
they are different from the ascetic sanyasins, but
resemble rather the Buddhist monks*
The Baiils do not believe in aloofness from, or
renunciation of, any person or thing; their central
idea is yoga, attachment to and communion with
the divine and its manifestations, as the means of
realization. We fail to recognize the temple of
God in the bodily life of man, they explain, be-
cause its lamp is not alight The true vision must
be attained in which this temple will become mani-
fest in each and every human body, whereupon
mutual communion and worship will spontane-
ously arise. Truth cannot be communicated to
those on whom you look down. You must be able
to see the divine light that shines within them, for
it is your own lack of vision that makes all seem
dark.
Kabir says the same thing:
In every abode the light doth shine; it is you who are blind
that cannot see. When by dint of looking and looking you at
length can discern it, the veils of this world will be torn
asunder. (II. 33.)
It is because the devotee is not in communion that he says
the goal is far away. (II. 34.)
Many such similarities are to be observed between
the sayings of the B axils and those of the Upper
Indian devotees of the Middle Ages, but, unlike
the case of the followers of the latter, the Baiils
210
APPENDICES
did not become crystallized into any particular
order or religious organization. So, in the Baiils
of Bengal, there is to be found a freedom and in-
dependence of mind and spirit that resists all
attempt at definition. Their songs are unique in
courage and felicity of expression. But under
modern conditions they are becoming extinct, or
at best holding on to external features bereft of
their original speciality. It would be a great pity
if no record of their achievements should be kept
before their culture is lost to the world.
Though the Baiils count amongst their follow-
ing a variety of sects and castes, both Hindu and
Moslem, chiefly coming from the lower social
ranks, they refuse to give any other account of
themselves to the questioner than that they are
Baiils. They acknowledge none of the social or
religious formalities, but delight in the ever-chang-
ing play of life, which cannot be expressed in mere
words but of which something may be captured in
song, through the ineffable medium of rhythm
and tune.
Their songs are passed on from Master to disci-
ple, the latter when competent adding others of
his own, but, as already mentioned, they are never
recorded in book form. Their replies to questions
are usually given by singing appropriate selections
from these songs. If asked the reason why, they
say: "We are like birds. We do not walk on our
legs, but fly with our wings."
There was a Brahmin of Bikrampur, known as
Chhaku Thakur, who was the disciple of a Baiil
of the Namasudra caste (accounted one of the low-
est) and hence had lost his place in his own com-
2X1
THE RELIGION OF MAN
munity. When admonished to be careful about
what he uttered, so as to avoid popular odium, he
answered with the song:
Let them relieve their minds by saying what they will,
I pursue my own simple way, fearing none at all.
The Mango seed will continue to produce Mango trees, no
Jambolans.
This seed of mine will produce the real me all glory to my
Master !
Love being the main principle according to the
Baiils, a Vaishnava once asked a Baiil devotee
whether he was aware of the different kinds of
love as classified in the Vaishnava scriptures.
"What should an illiterate ignoramus like me
know of the scriptures?" was the reply. The
Vaishnava then offered to read and explain the
text, which he proceeded to do, while the Baul
listened with such patience as he could muster.
When asked for his opinion, after the reading was
over, he sang:
A goldsmith, methinks, has come into the flower garden.
He would appraise the lotus, forsooth,
By rubbing it on his touchstone!
Recruits from the higher castes are rare amongst
the Baiils. When any such do happen to come,
they are reduced to the level of the rest. Are the
lower planks of a boat of any lesser importance
than the upper? say they.
Once in Vikrampur, I was seated on the river
bank by the side of a Baiil. "Father", I asked him,
"why is it that you keep no historical record of
yourselves for the use of posterity?" "We follow
the sahaj (simple) way", he replied, "and so leave
no trace behind us." The tide had then ebbed, and
2X2
APPENDICES
there was but little water in the river bed. Only
a few boatmen were to be seen pushing their boats
along the mud. The Baxil continued : "Do the boats
that sail over the flooded river leave any mark?
What should these boatmen of the muddy track,
urged on by their need, know of the sahaj (sim-
ple) way? The true endeavour is to keep oneself
simply afloat in the stream of devotion that flows
through the lives of devotees to mingle one's own
devotion with theirs. There are many classes of
men amongst the Baiils, but they are all Baiils
they have no other achievement or history. All the
streams that fall into the Ganges become the
Ganges. So must we lose ourselves in the common
stream, else will it cease to be living."
On another Baiil being asked why they did not
follow the scriptures, "Are we dogs", he replied,
"that we should lick up the leavings of others?
Brave men rejoice in the output of their own
energy, they create their own festivals. These
cowards who have not the power to rejoice in them-
selves have to rely on what others have left. Afraid
lest the world should lack festivals in the future,
they save up the scraps left over by their predeces-
sors for later use. They are content with glorify-
ing their forefathers because they know not how
to create for themselves."
If you would know that Man,
Simple must fae your endeavour.
To the region of the simple must you fare.
Pursuers of the path of man's own handiwork,
Who follow the crowd, gleaning their f alsp leavings,
What news can they get of the Real?
It is hardly to be wondered at that people wH<
think thus should have no use for history I
213
THE RELIGION OF MAN
We have already noticed that, like all the fol-
lowers of the simple way, the Baiils have no faith
in specially sacred spots or places of pilgrimage,
but that they nevertheless congregate on the occa-
sion of religious festivals. If asked why, the Baiil
says:
We would be within hail of the other Boatmen, to hear their
calls,
That we may make sure our boat rightly floats on the sahaj
stream.
Not what men have said or done in the past, but
the living human touch is what they find helpful.
Here is a song giving their ideas about pilgrimage :
I would not go, my heart, to Mecca or Medina,
For behold, I ever abide by the side of my Friend.
Mad would I become, had I dwelt afar, not knowing Him.
There's no worship in Mosque or Temple or special holy day.
At every step I have my Mecca and Kashi; sacred is every
moment.
If a Baiil is asked the age of his cult whether it
comes before or after this one or that, he says,
"Only the artificial religions of the world are
limited by time. Our sahaj (simple, natural) reli-
gion is timeless, it has neither beginning nor end,
it is of all time." The religion of the Upanishads
and Puranas, even that of the Vedas, is, according
to them, artificial.
The followers of the sahaj cult believe only in
living religious experience. Truth, according to
them, has two aspects, inert and living. Confined
to itself truth has no value for man. It becomes
priceless when embodied in a living personality.
The conversion of the inert into living truth by the
214
APPENDICES
devotee they compare to the conversion into milk
by the cow of its fodder, or the conversion by the
tree of dead matter into fruit He who has this
power of making truth living, is the Guru or Mas-
ter. Such Gurus they hold in special reverence, for
the eternal and all-pervading truth can only be
brought to man's door by passing through his life.
The Baiils say that emptiness of time and space
is required for a playground. That is why God has
preserved an emptiness in the heart of man, for the
sake of His own play of Love. Our wise and
learned ones were content with finding in Brahma
the tat (lit. "that" the ultimate substance). The
Baiils, not being Pandits, do not profess to under-
stand all this fuss about thatness, they want a Per-
son. So their God is the Man of the Heart (maner
manush) sometimes simply the Man (purush).
This Man of the Heart is ever and anon lost in
the turmoil of things. Whilst He is revealed
within, no worldly pleasures can give satisfaction.
Their sole anxiety is the finding of this Man.
The Baiil sings:
Ah, where am I to find Him, the Man of my Heart?
Alas, since I lost Him, I wander in search of Him,
Thro* lands near and far.
The agony of separation from Him cannot be miti-
gated for them by learning or philosophy :
Oh, these words and words, my mind would none of them,
The Supreme Man it must and shall discover*
So long as Him I do not see, these mists slake not my thirst.
Mad am I ; for lack of that Man I madly run about ;
For his sake the world IVe left ; for Bisha naught eke will
serve,
THE RELIGION OF MAN
This Bisha was a bhuin-mali, by caste, disciple of
Bala, the Kaivarta,
This cult of the Supreme Man is only to be
found in the Vedas hidden away in the Purusha-
sukta (A.V. 19.6). It is more freely expressed by
the Upper Indian devotees of the Middle Ages.
It is all in all with the Bauls. The God whom
these illiterate outcastes seek so simply and natu-
rally in their lives is obscured by the accredited
religious leaders in philosophical systems and
terminology, in priestcraft and ceremonial, in in-
stitutions and temples.
Not satisfied with the avatars (incarnations of
God) mentioned in the scriptures, the Baiil sings:
As we look on every creature, we find each to be His avatar.
What can you teach us of His ways? In ever-new play He
wondrously revels.
And Kabir also tells us:
All see the Eternal One, but only the devotee, in his solitude,
recognizes him.
A friend of mine was once much impressed by the
reply of a Baiil who was asked why his robe was
not tinted with ascetic ochre:
Can the colour show outside, unless the inside is first tinctured?
Can the fruit attain ripe sweetness by the painting of its skin?
This aversion of the Baiil from outward marks of
distinction is also shared by the Upper Indian
devotees, as I have elsewhere noticed.
The age-long controversy regarding Jvaita
(dualism) and advaita (monism) is readily solved
by these wayfarers on the path of Love. Love is
216
APPENDICES
the simple striving, love the natural communion,
so believe the Baiils. "Ever two and ever one, of
this the name of Love", say they. In love, oneness
is achieved without any loss of respective self-
hood.
The same need exists for the reconcilement of the
antagonism between the outer call of the material
world and the inner call of the spiritual world, as
for the realization of the mutual love of the indi-
vidual and Supreme self. The God who is Love,
say the Baiils, can alone serve to turn the currents
of the within and the without in one and the same
direction.
Kabir says:
If we say He is only within, then the whole Universe is shamed.
If we say He is only without, then that is false.
He, whose feet rest alike on the sentient and on the inert,
fills the gap between the inner and the outer world.
The inter-relations of man's body and the Universe
have to be realized by spiritual endeavour. Such
endeavour is called Kaya Sadhan (Realization
through the body) .
One process in this Kaya Sadhan of the Baiils
is known as Urdha-srota (the elevation of the cur-
rent). Waters flow downwards according to the
ordinary physical law. But with the advent of>
Life the process is reversed. When the living seed
sprouts the juices are drawn upwards, and on the
elevation that such flow can attain depends the
height of the tree. It is the same in the life of man.
His desires ordinarily flow downward towards ani-
mality. The endeavour of the expanding spirit is
to turn their current upwards towards the light*
217
THE RELIGION OF MAN
The cu-rrents of jiva (animal life) must be con-
verted into the current of Shiva (God life). They
form a centre round the ego ; they must be raised
by the force of love.
Says Dadu's daughter, Nanimata :
My life is the lamp afloat on the stream.
To what bourne shall it take me ?
How is the divine to conquer the carnal,
The downward current to be upward turned?
As when the wick is lighted the oil doth upward flow,
So simply is destroyed the thirst of the body.
The Yoga Vasistha tells us :
Uncleansed desires bind to the world, purified desires give
liberation.
References to this reversal of current are also to be
found in the Atharva Veda (X. 2.9; 2.34). This
reversal is otherwise considered by Indian devotees
as the conversion of the sthula (gross) in the
sukshma (fine).
The Baiil sings:
Love is my golden touch it turns desire into service :
Earth seeks to become Heaven, man to become God.
Another aspect of the idea of reversal has been put
thus by Rabindranath Tagore in his Broken Ties:
"If I keep going in the same direction along which
He comes to me, then I shall be going further and
further away from Him. If I proceed in the oppo-
site direction, then only can we meet He loves
form, so He is continually descending towards
form. We cannot live by form alone, so we must
art
APPENDICES
ascend towards His formlessness. He is free, so
His play is within bonds. We are bound, so we
find our joy in freedom. All our sorrow is because
we cannot understand this. He who sings, proceeds
from his joy to the tune ; he who hears, from the
tune to joy. One comes from freedom into bond-
age, the other goes from bondage into freedom;
only thus can they have their communion. He
sings and we hear. He ties the bonds as He sings to
us, we untie them as we listen to Him."
This idea also occurs in our devotees of the
Middle Ages.
The "sahaj" folk endeavour to seek the bliss of
divine union only for its own sake. Mundane de-
sires are therefore accounted the chief obstacles in
the way. But for getting rid of them, the wise
Guru, according to the Bauls, does not advise
renunciation of the good things of the world, but
the opening of the door to the higher self. Thus
guided, says Kabir,
I close not my eyes, stop not my ears, nor torment my body*
But every path I then traverse becomes a path of pilgrimage,
whatever work I engage in becomes service.
This simple consummation is the best.
The simple way has led its votaries easily and nat-
urally to their living conception of Humanity.
Raj jab says:
All the world is the Veda, all creations the Koran. Why read
paper scriptures, O Rajjab.
Gather ever fresh wisdom from the Universe. The eternal wis-
dom shines within the concourse
of the millions of Humanity.
219
THE RELIGION OF MAN
The Baiil sings:
The simple has its thirty million strings whose mingled sym-
phony ever sounds.
Take all the creatures of the World into yourself. Drown your-
self in that eternal music.
I conclude with a few more examples of Baiil
songs, esoteric and otherwise, from amongst many
others of equal interest.
By Gangaram, the Namasudra
Realize how finite and unbounded are One,
As you breathe in and out.
Of all ages, then, you will count the moments,
In every moment find the ages,
The drop in the ocean, the ocean in the drop.
If your endeavour be but sahaj, beyond argument and cogita-
tion,
You will taste the precious quintessence.
Blinded are you by over-much journeying from bourne to
bourne,
O Gangaram, be simple! Then alone will vanish all your
doubts.
By Bisha, the disciple of Bala:
The Simple Man was in the Paradise of my heart,
Alas, how and when did I lose Him,
That now no peace I know, at home or abroad ?
By meditation and telling of beads, in worship and travail,
The quest goes on for ever ;
But unless the Simple Man comes of Himself,
Fruitless is it all ;
For he yields not to forge tfulness of striving.
Bisha's heart has understood right well,
That by His own simple way alone is its door unlocked.
"Listen, O brother man", declares Chandidas, "the
Truth of Man is the highest of truths ; there is no
other truth above it"
220
APPENDIX II
NOTE ON THE NATURE OF REALITY
(A conversation between Rabindranath Tagore and Professor
Albert Einstein, in the afternoon of July 14, 1930, at the
Professor's residence in Kaputh.)
E. : Do you believe in the Divine as isolated
from the world?
T. : Not isolated. The infinite personality of
Man comprehends the Universe. There cannot be
anything that cannot be subsumed by the human
personality, and this proves that the truth of the
Universe is human truth. I have taken a scientific
fact to illustrate this Matter is composed of pro-
tons and electrons, with gaps between them; but
matter may seem to be solid. Similarly humanity
is composed of individuals, yet they have their
inter-connection of human relationship, which
gives living solidarity to man's world. The entire
universe is linked up with us in a similar manner,
it is a human universe. I have pursued this
thought through art, literature and the religious
consciousness of man.
E. : There are two different conceptions about
the nature of the universe: (i) The world as a
unity dependent on humanity. (2) The world as
a reality independent of the human factor.
T. : When our universe is in harmony with Man,
the eternal, we know it as truth, we feel it as
beauty.
221
THE RELIGION OF MAN
E,: This is a purely human conception of the
universe.
T.: There can be no other conception. This
world is a human world the scientific view of it
is also that of the scientific man. There is some
standard of reason and enjoyment which gives it
truth, the standard of the Eternal Man whose ex-
periences are through our experiences.
E.: This is a realization of the human entity.
T. : Yes, one eternal entity. We have to realize
it through our emotions and activities. We realize
the Supreme Man who has no individual limita-
tions through our limitations. Science is concerned
with that which is not confined to individuals; it
is the impersonal human world of truths. Religion
realizes these truths and links them up with our
deeper needs; our individual consciousness of
truth gains universal significance. Religion ap-
plies values to truth, and we know truth as good
through our own harmony with it.
E. : Truth, then, or Beauty, is not independent
of man?
T.:No.
E.: If there would be no human beings any
more, the Apollo of Belvedere would no longer be
beautiful.
T.:No.
E.: I agree with regard to this conception of
Beauty, but not with regard to Truth.
T,: Why not? Truth is realized through man.
E. : I cannot prove that my conception is right,
but that is my religion.
T.: Beauty is in the ideal of perfect harmony
which is in the Universal Being; Truth the perfect
222
APPE NDI CES
comprehension of the Universal Mind. We indi-
viduals approach it through our own mistakes and
blunders, through our accumulated experience,
through our illumined consciousness *how, other-
wise, can we know Truth?
E. : I cannot prove scientifically that truth must
be conceived as a truth that is valid independent
of humanity; but I believe it firmly. I believe, for
instance, that the Pythagorean theorem in geom-
etry states something that is approximately true,
independent of the existence of man. Anyway, if
there is a reality independent of man there is also
a truth relative to this reality; and in the same
way the negation of the first engenders a negation
of the existence of the latter.
T\: Truth, which is one with the Universal
Being, must essentially be human, otherwise what-
ever we individuals realize as true can never be
called truth at least the truth which is described
as scientific and can only be reached through the
process of logic, in other words, by an organ of
thoughts which is human. According to Indian
Philosophy there is Brahman the absolute Truth,
which cannot be conceived by the isolation of the
individual mind or described by words, but can
only be realised by completely merging the indi-
vidual in its infinity. But such a truth cannot be-
long to Science* The nature of truth which we are
discussing is an appearance that is to say what
appears to be true to the human mind and there-
fore is human, and may be called maya, or illusion,
E. : So according to your conception, which may
be the Indian conception, it is not the illusion of
the individual, but of humanity as a whole.
223
THE RELIGION OF MAN
T. : In science we go through the discipline of
eliminating the personal limitations of our indi-
vidual minds and thus reach that comprehension
of truth which is in the mind of the Universal
Man.
E. : The problem begins whether Truth is inde-
pendent of our consciousness.
T. : What we call truth lies in the rational har-
mony between the subjective and objective aspects
of reality, both of which belong to the super-
personal man.
E. : Even in our everyday life we feel compelled
to ascribe a reality independent of man to the ob-
jects we use. We do this to connect the experiences
of our senses in a reasonable way. For instance, if
nobody is in this house, yet that table remains
where it is.
T. : Yes, it remains outside the individual mind,
but not outside the universal mind. The table
which I perceive is perceptible by the same kind
of consciousness which I possess.
E. : Our natural point of view in regard to the
existence of truth apart from humanity cannot be
explained or proved, but it is a belief which no-
body can lack no primitive beings even. We
attribute to Truth a. super-human objectivity; it is
indispensable for us, this reality which is inde-
pendent of our existence and our experience and
our mind though we cannot say what it means.
T. : Science has proved that the table as a solid
object is an appearance, and therefore that which
the human mind perceives as a table would not
exist if that mind were naught. At the same time
it must be admitted that the fact, that the ultimate
224
APPENDICES
physical reality of the table is nothing but a mul-
titude of separate revolving centres of electric
forces, also belongs to the human mind.
In the apprehension of truth there is an eternal
conflict between the universal human mind and the
same mind confined in the individual. The per-
petual process of reconciliation is being carried on
in our science and philosophy, and in our ethics.
In any case, if there be any truth absolutely unre-
lated to humanity then for us it is absolutely non-
existing.
It is not difficult to imagine a mind to which the
sequence of things happens not in space, but only
in time like the sequence of notes in music. For
such a mind its conception of reality is akin to the
musical reality in which Pythagorean geometry
can have no meaning. There is the reality of
paper, infinitely different from the reality of lit-
erature. For the kind of mind possessed by the
moth, which eats that paper, literature is abso-
lutely non-existent, yet for Man's mind literature
has a greater value of truth than the paper itself,
In a similar manner, if there be some truth which
has no sensuous or rational relation to the human
mind it will ever remain as nothing so long as we
remain human beings.
E,: Then I am more religious than you arel
T. : My religion is in the reconciliation of ^thc
Super-personal Man, the Universal human spirit
in my own individual being* This has been the
subject of my Hibbert Lectures, which I have
called "The Religion of Man".
225
APPENDIX III
DADU AND THE MYSTERY OF FORM
(From an article in the Vwuabharati Quarterly
by Professor Kshiti Mohan Sen.)
THE language of man has been mainly occupied
with telling us about the elements into which the
finite world has been analysed ; nevertheless, now
and again, it reveals glimpses of the world of the
Infinite as well ; for the spirit of man has discov-
ered rifts in the wall of Matter. Our intellect can
count the petals, classify the scent, and describe the
colour of the rose, but its unify finds its expression
when we rejoice in it.
The intellect at best can give us only a broken
view of things. The marvellous vision of the Seer,
in spite of the scoffing in which both Science and
Metaphysics so often indulge, can alone make
manifest to us the truth of a thing in its complete-
ness. When we thus gain a vision of unity, we are
no longer intellectually aware of detail, counting,
classifying, or distinguishing for them we have
found admittance into the region of the spirit,
and there we simply measure the truth of our
realization by the intensity of our joy.
What is the meaning of this unutterable joy?
That which we know by intellectual process is
something outside ourselves. But the vision of any-
thing in the fulness of its unity involves the reali-
226
APPENDI C ES
zation of the unity of the self within, as well as of
the relation between the two. The knowledge of
the many may make us proud, but it makes us glad
when our kinship with the One is brought home to
us. Beauty is the name that we give to this ac-
knowledgment of unity and of its relationship with
ourselves.
It is through the beauty of Nature, or of Human
Character, or Service, that we get our glimpses of
the Supreme Soul whose essence is bliss. Or rather,
it is when we become conscious of Him in Nature,
or Art, or Service, that Beauty flashes out And
whenever we thus light upon the Dweller-within,
all discord disappears and Love and Beauty are
seen inseparable from Truth. It is really the com-
ing of Truth to us as kinsman which floods our
being with Joy.
This realization in Joy is immediate, self-suffi-
cient, ultimate. When the self experiences Joy
within, it is completely satisfied and has nothing
more to ask from the outside world. Joy, as we
know it, is a direct, synthetic measure of Beauty
and neither awaits nor depends upon any analyti-
cal process. In our Joy, further, we behold not only
the unity, but also the origin, for the Beauty which
tells us of Him can be nothing but radiance re-
flected, melody re-echoed, from Him; else would
all this have been unmeaning indeed Society,
Civilization, Humanity. The progress of Man
would otherwise have ended in an orgy of the
gratification of his animal passions.
The power of realization, for each particular
individual, is limited. All do not attain the privi-
lege of directly apprehending the universal Unity.
227
THE RELIGION OF MAN
Nevertheless, a partial vision of it, say in a flower,
or in a friend, is a common experience; moreover,
the potentiality is inherent in every individual soul,
by dint of disciplined striving, to effect its own
expansion and thereupon eventually to achieve the
realization of the Supreme SouL
By whom, meanwhile, are these ineffable tidings
from the realm of the Spirit, the world of the In-
finite, brought to us? Not by potentates or phi-
losophers, but by the poor, the untutored, the
despised. And with what superb assurance do they
lead us out of the desert of the intellect into the
paradise of the Spirit!
When our metaphysicians, dividing themselves
into rival schools of Monism, Dualism or Monis-
tic-Dualism, had joined together in dismissing the
world as Maya, then, up from the depths of their
social obscurity, rose these cobblers, weavers, and
sewers of bags, proclaiming such theorems of the
intellect to be all nonsense; for the metaphysicians
had not seen with their own inner vision how the
world overflowed with Truth and Love, Beauty
and Joy.
Dadu, Ravidas, Kabir and Nanafc were not
ascetics; they bore no message of poverty, or re-
nunciation, for their own sake; they were poets
who had pierced the curtain of appearances and
had glimpses of the world of Unity, where God
himself is a poet Their wprds cannot stand the
glare of logical criticism; they babble, like babes,
of the joy of their vision of Him, of the ecstasy
into which His music has thrown them.
Nevertheless, it is they, not the scientists or phi-
losophers, who have taught us of reality. On the
228
APP E NDICES
one side the Supreme Soul is alone, on the other
my individual soul is alone. If the two do not come
together, then indeed there befalls the greatest of
all calamities, the utter emptiness of chaos. For
all the abundance of His inherent joy, God is in
want of my joy of Him; and Reality in its perfec-
tion only blossoms where we meet
"When I look upon the beauty of this Universe",
says Dadu, "I cannot help asking: 'How, O Lord,
did you come to create it? What sudden wave of
joy coursing through your being compelled its own
manifestation? Was it really due to desire for self-
expression, or simply on the impulse of emotion?
Or was it perhaps just your fancy to revel in the
play of form? Is this play then so delightful to
you ; or is it that you would see your own inborn
delight thus take shape?' Oh, how can these ques-
tions be answered in words?" cries Dadu. "Only
those who know will understand."
"Why not go to him who has wrought this mar-
vel", says Dadu elsewhere, "and ask: 'Cannot your
own message make clear this wondrous making of
the One into the many?' When I look on creation
as beauty of form, I see only Form and Beauty.
When I look on it as life, everywhere I see Life.
When I look on it as Brahma, then indeed is Dadu
at a loss for words. When I see it in relation, it is
of bewildering variety. When I see it in my own
soul, all its variousness is merged in the beauty of
the Supreme Soul. This eye of mine then becomes
also the eye of Brahma, and in this exchange of
mutual vision does Dadu behold Truth."
The eye cannot see the face for that purpose a
mirror is necessary. That is to say, either the face
229
THE RELIGION OF MAN
has to be put at a distance from the eye, or the eye
moved away from the face in any case what was
one has to be made into two. The image is not the
face itself, but how else is that to be seen?
So does God mirror Himself in Creation; and
since He cannot place Himself outside His own
Infinity, He can only gain a vision of Himself
and get a taste of His own joy through my joy in
Him and in His Universe. Hence the anxious
striving of the devotee to keep himself thoroughly
pure not through any pride of puritanism, but
because his soul is the playground where God
would revel in Himself. Had not God's radiance,
His beauty, thus found its form in the Universe,
its joy in the devotee, He would have remained
mere formless, colourless Being in the nothingness
of infinity.
This is what makes the Mystery so profound, so
inscrutable. Whether we say that only Brahma is
true, or only the universe is true, we are equally
far from the Truth, which can only be expressed
as both this and that, or neither this nor that.
And Dadu can only hint at it by saying: "Neither
death nor life is He; He neither goes out, nor does
He come in; nor sleeps, nor wakes; nor wants, nor
is satisfied. He is neither I nor you, neither One
nor Two, For no sooner do I say that all is One,
than I find us both ; and when I say there are two,
I see we're One. So, O Dadu, rest content to look
on Him just as He is, in the dee of your heart,
and give up wrestling with vain imaginings and
empty words."
"Words shower", Dadu goes on, "when spouts
the fount of the intellect; but where realization
230
APPENDICES
grows, there music has its seat" When the intellect
confesses defeat, and words fail, then, indeed, from
the depth of the heart wells up the song of the joy
of realization. What words cannot make clear,
melody can; to its strains one can revel in the
vision of God in His revels.
"That is why", cries Dadu, "your universe, this
creation of yours, has charmed me so your waters
and your breezes, and this earth which holds them,
with its ranges of mountains, its great oceans, its
snow-capped poles, its blazing sun, because,
through all the three regions of earth, sky and
heaven, amidst all their multifarious life, it is your
ministration, your beauty, that keeps me en-
thralled. Who can know you, O Invisible, Unap-
proachable, Unfathomable! Dadu has no desire
to know ; he is satisfied to remain enraptured with
all this beauty of yours, and to rejoice in it with
To look upon Form as the play of His love is not
to belittle it. In creating the senses God did not
intend them to be starved, "And so", says Dadu,
"the eye is feasted with colour, the ear with music,
the palate with flowers, wondrously provided."
And we find that the body longs for the spirit, the
spirit for the body; the flower for the scent the
scent for the flower ; our words for truth, the Truth
for words; form for its ideal, the ideal for form;
all thus mutual worship is but the worship of the
ineffable Reality behind, by whose Presence every
one of them is glorified. And Dadu struggles not,
but simply keeps his heart open to this shower of
love and thus rejoices in perpetual Springtime.
Every vessel of form the Formless fills with
THE RELIGION OF MAN
Himself, and in their beauty He gains them in re-
turn. With His love the Passionless fulfils every
devoted heart and sets it a-dance, and their love
streams back to the Colourless, variegated with the
tints of each. Beauteous Creation yields up her
charms, in all their purity, to her Lord. Need she
make further protestation, in words of their mutual
love? So Dadu surrenders his heart, mind and
soul at the feet of his Beloved. His one care is that
they be not sullied.
If any one should object that evanescent Form is
not worthy to represent the Eternal, Dadu would
answer that it is just because Form is fleeting that
it is a help, not a hindrance, to His worship. While
returning back to its Origin, it captures our mind
and takes it along with itself. The call of Beauty
tells us of the Unthinkable, towards whom it lies.
In passing over us, Death assures us of the truth
of Life,
232
APPENDIX IV
NIGHT AND MORNING
(An address in the Chapel of Manchester College, Oxford, on
Sunday, May 25, 1930, by Rabindranath Tagore.)
IN his early youth, stricken with a great sorrow at
the death of his grandmother, my father painfully
groped for truth when his world had darkened,
and his life lost its meaning. At this moment of
despair a torn page of a manuscript carried by a
casual wind was brought to his notice. The text it
contained was the first verse of the Ishopanishad :
Isavasyam fdam survam
Yat Kincha jagatyam jagat.
tena tyaktena bhunjitha
Ma grdhah Kasyasvitdhanam. -
It may be thus translated :
"Thou must know that whatever moves in this moving world
in enveloped by God. And therefore find thy enjoyment in
renunciation, never coveting what belongs to others."
In this we are enjoined to realize that all facts that
move and change have their significance in their
relation to one everlasting truth. For then we can
be rid of the greed of acquisition, gladly dedicat-
ing everything we have to that Supreme Truth.
The change in our mind is immense in its generos-
ity of expression when an utter sense of vanity and
vacancy is relieved at the consciousness of a per-
vading reality.
333
THE RELIGION OF MAN
I remember once while on a boat trip in a strange
neighbourhood I found myself unexpectedly at the
confluence of three great rivers as the daylight
faded and the night darkened over a desolation
dumb and inhospitable. A sense of dread pos-
sessed the crew and an oppressive anxiety bur-
dened my thoughts, with its unreasonable exag-
geration all through the dark hours. The morning
came and at once the brooding obsession vanished.
Everything remained the same only the sky was
filled with light.
The night had brought her peace, the peace of a
black ultimatum in which all hope ceased in an
abyss of nothingness, but the peace of the morning
appeared like that of a mother's smile, which in its
serene silence utters, "I am here". I realized why
birds break out singing in the morning, and felt
that their songs are their own glad answers to the
emphatic assurance of a Yes in the morning light
in which they find a luminous harmony of their
own existence. Darkness drives our being into an
isolation of insignificance and we are frightened
because in the dark the sense of our own truth
dwindles into a minimum. Within us we carry a
positive truth, the consciousness of our personality,
which naturally seeks from our surroundings its
response in a truth which is positive, and then in
this harmony we find our wealth of reality and arc
gladly ready to sacrifice. That which distinguishes
man from the animal is the fact that he expresses
himself not in his claims, in his needs, but in his
sacrifice, which has the creative energy that builds
his home, his society, his civilization. It proves
that his instinct acknowledges the inexhaustible
234
APPENDICES
wealth of a positive truth which gives highest value
to existence. In whatever we are mean, greedy
and unscrupulous, there are the dark bands in the
spectrum of our consciousness; they prove chasms
of bankruptcy in our realization of the truth that
the world moves, not in a blank sky of negation,
but in the bosom of an ideal spirit of fulfil-
ment.
Most often crimes are committed when it is
night. It must not be thought that the only reason
for this is that in the dark they are likely to remain
undetected. But the deeper reason is that in the
dark the negative aspect of time weakens the posi-
tive sense of our own humanity. Our victims, as
well as we ourselves, are less real to us in the
night, and that which we miss within we desper-
ately seek outside us. Wherever in the human
world the individual self forgets its isolation, the
light that unifies is revealed the light of the Ever-
lasting Yes, whose sound-symbol in India is OM.
Then it becomes easy for man to be good not be-
cause his badness is restrained, but because of his
joy in the positive background of his own reality,
because his mind no longer dwells in a fathomless
night of an anarchical world of denial.
Man finds an instance of this in the idea of his
own country, which reveals to him a positive truth,
the idea that has not the darkness of negation which
is sinister, which generates suspicion, exaggerates
fear, encourages uncontrolled greed ; for his own
country is an indubitable reality to him which
delights his soul. In such intense consciousness of
reality we discover our own greater self that
spreads beyond our physical life and immediate
235
THE RELIGION OF MAN
present, and offers us generous opportunities of
enjoyment in renunciation.
In the introductory chapter of our civilization
individuals by some chance found themselves to-
gether within a geographic enclosure. But a mere
crowd without an inner meaning of inter-relation
is negative, and therefore it can easily be hurtful.
The individual who is a mere component part of
an unneighbourly crowd, who in his exclusiveness
represents only himself, is apt to be suspicious of
others, with no inner control in hating and hitting
his fellow-beings at the very first sight This sav-
age mentality is the product of the barren spirit
of negation that dwells in the spiritual night But
when the morning of mutual recognition broke out,
the morning of co-operative life, that divine mys-
tery which is the creative spirit of unity, imparted
meaning to individuals in a larger truth named
"people". These individuals gladly surrendered
themselves to the realization of their true human-
ity, the humanity of a great wholeness composed of
generations of men consciously and unconsciously
building up a perfect future. They realized peace
according to the degree of unity which they at-
tained in their mutual relationship, and within
that limit they found the one sublime truth which
pervades time that moves, the things that change,
the life that grows, the thoughts that flow onwards.
They united with themselves the surrounding
physical nature in her hills and rivers, in the dance
of rhythm in all her forms and colours, in the blue
of her sky, the tender green of her corn shoots.
In gradual degrees men became aware that the
subtle intricacies of human existence find their per-
236 *
APPENDICES
faction in the harmony of interdependence, never
in the vigorous exercise of elbows by a mutually
pushing multitude, in the arrogant assertion of
independence which fitly belongs to the barren
rocks and deserts grey with the pallor of death.
For rampant individualism is against what is
truly human that is to say spiritual it belongs
to the primitive poverty of the animal life, it is the
confinement of a cramped spirit, of restricted con-
sciousness.
The limited boundaries of a race or a country
within which the supreme truth of humanity has
been more or less realized in the past are crossed
to-day from the outside. The countries are physi-
cally brought closer to each other by science. But
science has not brought with it the light that helps
understanding. On the contrary science on its prac-
tical side has raised obstacles among them against
the development of a sympathetic knowledge.
But I am not foolish enough to condemn science
as materialistic. No truth can be that Science
means intellectual probity in our knowledge and
dealings with the physical world and such con-
scientiousness has a spiritual quality that encour-
ages sacrifice and martyrdom. But in science the
oft-used half-truth that honesty is the best policy
is completely made true and our mind's honesty
in this field never fails to bring us the best profit
for our living. Mischief finds its entry through
this back-door of utility, tempting the primitive
in man, arousing his evil passions. And through
this the great meeting of races has been obscured
of its great meaning. When I view it in my mind
I am reminded of the fearful immensity of the
237
THE RELIGION OF MAN
meeting of the three mighty rivers where I found
myself unprepared in a blackness of universal
menace. Over the vast gathering of peoples the
insensitive night darkly broods, the night of un-
reality. The primitive barbarity of limitless suspi-
cion and mutual jealousy fills the world's atmos-
phere to-day the barbarity of the aggressive indi-
vidualism of nations, pitiless in its greed, un-
ashamed of its boastful brutality.
Those that have come out for depredation in this
universal night have the indecent audacity to say
that such conditions are eternal in man, that the
moral ideals are only for individuals but that the
race belongs to the primitive nature of the animal.
But when we see that in the range of physical
power man acknowledges no limits in his dreams,
and is not even laughed at when he hopes to visit
the neighbouring planet; must he insult his hu-
manity by proclaiming that human nature has
reached its limit of moral possibility? We must
work with all our strength for the seemingly im-
possible ; we must be sure that faith in the perfect
builds the path for the perfect that the external
fact of unity which has surprised us must be sub-
limated in an internal truth of unity which would
light up the Truth of Man the Eternal.
Nations are kept apart not merely by interna-
tional jealousy, but also by their Karma, their own
past, handicapped by the burden of the dead. They
find it hard to think that the mentality which they
fondly cultivated within the limits of a narrow
past has no continuance in a wider future, they are
never tired of uttering the blasphemy that warfare
is eternal, that physical might has its inevitable
238
THE RELIGION OF MAN
right of moral cannibalism where the flesh is
weak. The wrong that has been done in the past
seeks to justify itself by its very perpetuation, like
a disease by its chronic malignity, and it sneers
and growls at the least proposal of its termi-
nation. Such an evil ghost of a persistent past, the
dead that would cling to life, haunts the night to-
day over mutually alienated countries, and men
that are gathered together in the dark cannot see
each other's faces and features.
We in India are unfortunate in not having the
chance to give expression to the best in us in creat-
ing intimate relations with the powerful nations,
whose preparations are all leading to an enormous
waste of resources in a competition of brow-beating
and bluff. Some great voice is waiting to be heard
which will usher in the sacred light of truth in the
dark hours of the nightmare of politics, the voice
which will proclaim that "God is over all", and
exhort us never to covet, to be great in renunciation
that gives us the wealth of spirit, strength of truth,
leads us from the illusion of power to the fullness
of perfection, to the Sdntam, who is peace eternal,
to the Advaltam who is the infinite One in the
heart of the manifold. But we in India have not
yet had the chance. Yet we have our own human
voice which truth demands. The messengers of
truth have ever joined hands across centuries,
across the seas, across historical barriers, and they
help to raise up the great continent of human
brotherhood from avidya, from the slimy bottom
of spiritual apathy. We individuals, however
small may be our power and whatever corner of
the world we may belong to, have a claim upon
239
THE RELIGION OF MAN
us to add to the light of the consciousness that com-
prehends all humanity. And for this cause I ask
your co-operation, not only because co-operation
gives us strength in our work, but because co-
operation itself is the best aspect of the truth we
represent; it is an end and not merely the means.
Let us keep our faith firm in the objectivity of
the source of our spiritual ideal of unity, though
it cannot be proved by any mathematical logic. Let
us proclaim in our conduct that it has already been
given to us to be realized, like a song which has
only to be mastered and sung, like the morning
which has only to be welcomed by raising the
screens, opening the doors.
The idea of a millennium is treasured in our
ancient legends. The instinct cradled and nour-
ished in them has profound meaning. It is like
the instinct of a chick which dimly feels that an
infinite world of freedom is already given to it,
truer than the narrow fact of its immediate life
within the egg. An agnostic chick has the rational
right to doubt it, but at the same time it cannot
help pecking at its shell. The human soul, confined
in its limitation, has also dreamt of millennium,
and striven for a spiritual emancipation which
seems impossible of attainment, and yet it feels its
reverence for some ever-present source of inspira-
tion in which all its experience of the true, the
good and beautiful finds its reality.
And therefore it has been said by the Upani-
shad: "Thou must know that God pervades all
things that move and change in this moving world ;
find thy enjoyment in renunciation, covet not what
belongs to others."
240
APPENDICES
Ya eko varno bahudha saktiyogat
Varnan ariekan nihitartho dadhati.
Vichaiti chante visvamadau sa devah
Sa no buddhya subhaya samjrunaktu.
He who is one, and who dispenses the inherent
needs of all peoples and all times, who is in the
beginning and the end of all things, may he unite
us with the bond of truth, of common fellowship,
of righteousness.
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рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
Video:The Religion of Man
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=362W4L0v2Xk
рдЖрдЧреЗ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рдпрд╣ рд╕рд╛рдл рдХрд░ рджреВрдВ рдХрд┐ рдпрд╣ рд╕рдВрд╡рд╛рдж рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рдпрд╛рд╕ рд╣реИ,рдХреЛрдИ рд╢реЛрдз рдирд┐рдмрдВрдз рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдХреЛ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рдХреЗ рдирдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рд╕реЗ рджреЗрдЦрдиреЗ рдкрд░рдЦрдиреЗ рдХреА рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рдЗрд╕ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рдкреНрд░реЗрдо рдФрд░ рд░реЛрдорд╛рдВрд╕ рдкрд░ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдлреЛрдХрд╕ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕рдХреА рдПрдХ рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рдВрдЧреАрдд рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦреЗ рдЧреАрддреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рдВрдЧреАрдд рд╕реЗ рдЬреБрдбрд╝реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧ рджреЛ рдкрд░реНрд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдмрд╛рдВрдЯрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ-рдкреВрдЬрд╛ рдкрд░реНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░реЗрдо рдкрд░реНрд╡редрдлрд┐рд░ рд╡рд╣реАрдВ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рдФрд░ рд░реЛрдорд╛рдВрд╕ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рд╣реИред
рд╕рдорддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдореЗрдВ,рдЙрддреНрдкреАрдбрд╝рд┐рддреЛрдВ,рд╡рдВрдЪрд┐рддреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреА рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдХрднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛрддреАредрдХрд╣реАрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛрддреАредрдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдирд╣реАрдВред
рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рдирд╣реАрдВ ┬ард╣реИ рдмрд▓реНрдХрд┐ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреА рдПрдХрд╛рддреНрдорддрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдЙрд╕реА рдмрд╣реБрд▓рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдзрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рд╣реИ рдЬреЛ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЙрддреНрдХрд░реНрд╖ рдХреА рдЦреЛрдЬ рдореЗрдВ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐ рд╕реЗ рд╕рд░реНрд╡рдХрд╛рд▓реАрди рд╕рд╛рд░реНрд╡рднреМрдо рдЖрджрд░реНрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐ рд╕рдорд░реНрдкрд┐рдд рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕ рдкрд░ рдХрд╛рдпрджреЗ рд╕реЗ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИредрдЕрдиреЗрдХрддрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рд╣реА рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрдп рдпрд╣реА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдорд┐рдХ рдЙрддреНрдХрд░реНрд╖ рднреАредрдпрд╣ рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЬрд┐рддрдирд╛ рд╣реИ,рд╡рд╣реА рдореБрдХреНрддрдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░реА рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рдХреА рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рднреАред
рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕реА ┬ардзрд░реНрдо рдХреА рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рдж рдкрд░ рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдЬрдирдкрджреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдзреНрд╡рдВрд╕ рдкрд░ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдХреЛ рдкрд╛рдЧрд▓ рджреМрдбрд╝ рдХрд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рддреЛ рд╡реИрдЬреНрдЮрд╛рдирд┐рдХ рдЖрдЗрдВрд╕реНрдЯреАрди рдХрд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдХрд┐ рд╡рд┐рдЬреНрдЮрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдХреЗ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓реЗ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИредрддрд╛рд▓рд╕реНрддрд╛рдп рд░реБрд╕реА рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХреЗ рдкрд╛рдЦрдВрдб рдХреЛ рдмреЗрдкрд░реНрджрд╛ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдпреБрджреНрдз рдореЗрдВ рд╢рд╛рдВрддрд┐ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдпрд╣ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рд╕рд╛рд░реНрд╡рднреМрдо рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдпрд╣реА рд╕рд╛рд░реНрд╡рднреМрдо рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рднрд╛рд░рддрддреАрд░реНрде рдХреА рдкрд░рд┐рдХрд▓реНрдкрдирд╛ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдХрд╛ рд╕реНрд╡рд░рд╛рдЬ рдХрд╛ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рднреА рд╡рд╣реАрдВ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдЬреЛ рдЕрдВрддрддрдГ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рд╣реИредрд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рд╕рд╛рдм рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╣реА рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреА рдЧрд░рдЬ рд╕реЗ рд╣рдо рдЗрд╕ рдмрд┐рдВрджреВ рдкрд░ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдмрдЪрддреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдЗрд╕реА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рд▓рдВрдмреЗ рдЕрд░рд╕реЗ рддрдХ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рдЧрддрд┐рд╢реАрд▓ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреЛ рд░реЛрдорд╛рдВрдЯрд┐рдХ рднреА рдорд╛рдирд╛ рд╣реИредрд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реА рдЧрд▓рддрдлрд╣рдореА рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХрд╛ рдХреБрд▓реАрди рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдирд┐рдзрд┐ рдорд╛рдирдиреЗ рдХреА рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИредрд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХрд╛ рдХрд╡рд┐ рдорд╛рдирдХрд░ рд╣реА рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдирдХреНрд╕рд▓ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдФрд░ рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдХреА рдореВрд░реНрддрд┐рдпрд╛рдВ рдмрдо рд╕реЗ рдЙрдбрд╝рд╛рдпреА рдЬрд╛рддреА рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИред
рдЕрдм рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рдВрд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдФрд░ рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░ рдЬрдм рд╕рдорддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рд▓рдХреНрд╖реНрдп рд╣рд╛рд╕рд┐рд▓ рдХрд░рдиреЗреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдЕрд╕рдлрд▓ рд╣реЛрддреЗ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рдПрдЬрдВрдбрд╛ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рдЪрд▓ рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдзрд░реНрдореЛрдиреНрдорд╛рджреА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рджреА рд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдореБрдХрдореНрдорд▓ рдореБрдХреНрдд рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдореЗрдВ рддрдмреНрджреАрд▓ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдкрд░рд┐рдХрд▓реНрдкрдирд╛ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдХреА рд╡рд╕реНрддреБрдкрд░рдХ рдкрд░рдЦ рдФрд░ рдЬрд╛рдВрдЪ рдкрдбрд╝рддрд╛рд▓ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рдЪреБрдиреМрддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░рд╢реНрдиреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдЬрдмрд╛рд╡ рдЦреЛрдЬрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реИред
2002 рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдм рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рд╢реАрд░реНрд╖рдХ рд╕реЗ рдПрдХ рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХ рдХреА рдкрд╛рдВрдбреБрд▓рд┐рдкрд┐ рддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рдХреА рдЙрд╕ рд╡рдХреНрдд рд╕рдорддрд╛ ┬ардФрд░ рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рд▓рдХреНрд╖реНрдп рдХреА рджреГрд╖реНрдЯрд┐ рд╕реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдХреА рдЬрд╛рдВрдЪ рдкрдбрд╝рддрд╛рд▓ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдмрджрд▓рд╛рд╡ рдХреЗ ┬ардирдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рд╕реЗ рдореБрдЭреЗ рдмрд╣реБрдд рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд▓рдЧрд╛ рдерд╛ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рдЖрдо рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЦрд╛рд╕рддреМрд░ рдкрд░ рдмрд╣реБрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдпрд╛рдиреА рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕рд┐рдпреЛрдВ,рджрд▓рд┐рддреЛрдВ,рдкрд┐рдЫрдбрд╝реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЕрд▓реНрдкрд╕рдВрдЦреНрдпрдХреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд┐рдЦреЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреА рдЬрд╛рдирдХрд╛рд░реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╡реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ,рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рд╡реЗрдж рдкреБрд░рд╛рдг рдФрд░ рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рднрд╛рд╡ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╣реА рдЙрдирдХреА рдЬрд╛рддрд┐ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдмреНрд░рд╛рд╣реНрдордгрд╡рд╛рджреА рдорд╛рдирддреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рди рдЬрд╛рддрд┐ рд╕реЗ рдмреНрд░рд╛рд╣реНрдордг рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рди рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрдд рдХреЗ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рд╡рдХреНрддрд╛ рд╣реИрдВредрдЗрд╕ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝реЛрдВ рдЕрдЫреВрддреЛрдВ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдмреА рдЕрдЫреВрдд рд╣реИ рдЬрд┐рдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдордВрджрд┐рд░ рдореЗрдВ рдкреНрд░рд╡реЗрд╢рд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдорд┐рд▓рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╡реЗ рдзрд░реНрдорд╕реНрдерд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдХреИрдж рдИрд╢реНрд╡рд░ рдХреА рдЬрдЧрд╣ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЙрддреНрдХрд░реНрд╖ рдХреЗ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рдореЗрдВ рд╣реА рдИрд╢реНрд╡рд░ рдХреА рдЦреЛрдЬ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдпрд╣реА рдЙрдирдХреА рдЧреАрддрд╛рдЬрдВрд▓рд┐ рд╣реИред
рдкреБрд░реЛрд╣рд┐рдд рддрдВрддреНрд░ рдФрд░ рд╡рд░реНрдгрд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реБрджреНрдз рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рдХреЛ рдмрд╣реБрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдЬрд╛рдирд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕реАрд▓рд┐рдП рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдорд╛рд▓реВрдо рдмреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рдорддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреА рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдзрддрд╛ рдмрд╣реБрд▓рддрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдХреА рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рд╡рдХреНрддрд╛ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рд╣реА рд╡реЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд╕рдордп рдореЗрдВ рдмрд╣рд┐рд╕реНрдХреГрдд рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЖрдЬрднреА рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рдореЗрдВ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдмрд╣рд┐рд╕реНрдХрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╛ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕реАрд▓рд┐рдП рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдкрд░ рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкрдХ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рд╣реЛрдирд╛ рдЪрд╛рд╣рд┐рдП рдЬреЛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдФрд░ рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛,рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рдорддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдФрд░ рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░ рдХреА рд░рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЕрдирд┐рд╡рд╛рд░реНрдп рдХрд╛рд░реНрдпрднрд╛рд░ рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХрд╛ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред рдЗрд╕рдореЗрдВ рджреИрд╡реА рдЙрддреНрдХрд░реНрд╖ рдирд╣реАрдВ ,рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЙрддреНрдХрд░реНрд╖ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдиреБрд╕рдВрдзрд╛рди рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕реАрд▓рд┐рдП рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рд╢реБрд░реБрдЖрдд рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ 1930 рдореЗрдВ рджрд┐рдпреЗ рдкреНрд░рд╕рд┐рджреНрдз рднрд╛рд╖рдг 231 рдкреЗрдЬ рдХреЗ рджрд┐ рд░рд┐рд▓реАрдЬрди рдЖрдл рдореИрди рдХреА рдкреНрд░рд╛рд╕рдВрдЧрд┐рдХрддрд╛ рдкрд░ рдЬреЛрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЕрдирд┐рд╡рд╛рд░реНрдп рдкрд╛рда рдмрддрд╛рдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рд╣рдо рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рдХреЛ рдЦрд╛рд░рд┐рдЬ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд░ рд╕рдХрддреЗред
рд╣рдо рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдХреЛ рдмрджрд▓ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╕рдХрддреЗред
рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдХреА рдЗрд╕реА рдиреАрдВрд╡ рдкрд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп,рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рд╣реИред
рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рдЕрд╕рд╣рд┐рд╖реНрдгреБрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрдХреАрд░реНрдгрддрд╛ рдХреА рджреГрд╖реНрдЯрд┐ рд╕реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдЬрд╛ рд╕рдХрддрд╛редрд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рднреА рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рдореЗрдВ рд╢рд╛рдорд┐рд▓ рд╣реИред рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдмрд╛рдХреА рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдкреВрд░реА рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рдмрдирддреА рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдХрд▓реНрдкрдирд╛ рд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИред
рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╕рдореВрдЪреЗ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдФрд░ рд╕рдореВрдЪреА рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рдХреА рд╡реИрдЬреНрдЮрд╛рдирд┐рдХ рджреГрд╖реНрдЯрд┐ рдХреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рд╣рдо рд╕рдЪ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдордирд╛ рдХрд░ рд╣реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╕рдХрддреЗред
рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рд╡рдХреНрддрд╛ рдХрднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред рд╡реЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрдд рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдмрджрд▓рд╛рд╡ рдФрд░ рдореЗрд╣рдирддрдХрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдорддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рд╕реНрд╡рд░ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЬрд┐рди рдкрд░ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИредрдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛ рдХреЗ рдкрд╛рдардХреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рд╕реНрд╡рдпрдВ рдорд╛рдиреБрд╖реЗрд░ рдзрд░реНрдо рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХ рд▓рд┐рдЦрдХрд░ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рджрд╛рд░реНрд╢рдирд┐рдХ рдЪрд┐рдВрддрди рдордирди рдХрд╛ рдЦреБрд▓рд╛рд╕рд╛ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИредрд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЗрд╕рдореЗрдВ рд╢рдХ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рдкрд╛рдардХреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХ рдХреЛ рдкрдврд╝рд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛редрд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рдореЗрдВ рдпрд╣ рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХ рдЕрдиреВрджрд┐рдд рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИ рдпрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ,рдореБрдЭреЗ рдЗрд╕рдХреА рдЬрд╛рдирдХрд╛рд░реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрдмрд╣рд░рд╣рд╛рд▓ рдЗрд╕рдХреА рд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рдореЗрдВ рдХрд╣реАрдВ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рд╕реБрдиреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдЕрддреНрдпрдиреНрдд рд╡реИрдЬреНрдЮрд╛рдирд┐рдХ рдкрджреНрдзрддрд┐ рд╕реЗ ┬арддреИрдпрд╛рд░ рдЗрд╕ рднрд╛рд╖рдг рдФрд░ рдЙрд╕ рдкрд░ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░рд┐рдд рдкреБрд╕реНрддрдХ рдкрд░ рдХрд▓ рдЗрд╕реАрд▓рд┐рдП рдореИрдВрдиреЗ рдПрдХ рд╡реАрдбрд┐рдпреЛ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рдлреЗрд╕рдмреБрдХ рдкрд░ рдЕрдкрд▓реЛрдб рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд╕рдХрд╛ рддреЛ рдпреВ рдЯреНрдпреВрдм рдореЗрдВ рдЗрд╕реЗ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛редрдПрдХ рдШрдВрдЯреЗ рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рд╡реАрдбрд┐рдпреЛ рдореЗрдВ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕рдВрдд рдлрдХреАрд░,рдкреАрд░ рдмрд╛рдЙрд▓ рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рдХреА ┬ард░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рдХреА рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рд╣рдордиреЗ рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рдХреА рд╣реИ рддрд╛рдХрд┐ рдЬрд┐рди рдкрд╛рдардХреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдпрд╣ рднрд╛рд╖рдг рдирд╣реАрдВ рдкрдврд╝рд╛,рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрдн рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░рд╕рдВрдЧ рд╕рдордЭ рдореЗрдВ рдЖрдпреЗ рддрд╛рдХрд┐ рд╣рдо рд░рд╡реАрдВрдж рдХреЗ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдФрд░ рдХреГрддрд┐рддреНрд╡ рдкрд░ рдмреЗрд╣рддрд░ рддрд░реАрдХреЗ рд╕реЗ рдмрд╣рд╕ рдХрд░ рд╕рдХреЗрдВред
рдЗрд╕реА ┬арднрд╛рд╖рдг рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдиреНрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ рд╣реИрдГ
I have mentioned in connection with my per-
sonal experience some songs which I had often
heard from wandering village singers, belonging
to a popular sect of Bengal, called Baiiis,' who
have no images, temples, scriptures, or ceremo-
nials, who declare in their songs the divinity of
Man, and express for him an intense feeling of
love. Coming from men who are unsophisticated,
living a simple life in obscurity, it gives us a clue
to the inner meaning of all religions. For it sug*
gests that these religions are never about a God of
cosmic force, but rather about the God of human
Personality.
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдЙрд▓ рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдЬрд┐рд╕рдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рд░ рдЙрдирдХреА рддрдорд╛рдо рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдкрд░ рдкрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реИредрдмрд╛рдЙрд▓ рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗреЗрдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╣реИредрд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдЦреБрдж рдХреЛ рдмрд╛рдЙрд▓ рдХрд╣рддреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдпрд╛рдиреА рдзрд╛рд░реНрдорд┐рдХ рдЬрд╛рддрд┐ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА ┬арднреЗрджрднрд╛рд╡ рд╕реЗ ┬ардКрдкрд░ рд╣реИрдВ рдЙрдирдХреА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╡реЗ рдИрд╢реНрд╡рд░ рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдУрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдорд╣рд╛рддреНрдорд╛ рдЧреМрддрдо рдмреБрджреНрдз рдХреЗ рдзрдореНрдо рдХрд╛ рднреА рдЧрд╣рд░рд╛ рдЕрд╕рд░ рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рдЕрд▓рд╛рд╡рд╛ рд╡реЗ рдмреНрд░рд╣реНрдорд╕рдорд╛рдЬреА рдереЗ,рдЬрд┐рдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рддрддреНрдХрд╛рд▓реАрди рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдореНрд▓реЗрдЪреНрдЫ рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИредрдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рдХреА рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдЧреАрддреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд╕реНрддреНрд░реА рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕реНрд╡рд░ рдкрд┐рддреГрд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдореБрдЦрд░ рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░,рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА,рддрд╛рд▓реНрд╕реНрддрд╛рдп рдФрд░ рдпрд╣рд╛рдВ рддрдХ рдХрд┐ рдЖрдЗрдВрд╕реНрдЯреАрди рдореЗрдВ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдмреЛрдз рд╣реА рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рд╣реИредрдпрд╣ рдЧрд╣рд░рд╛ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдмреЛрдз рдЕрдиреЗрдХрддрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐ рд╕реЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рдорд╛рдирд╡ рдХреЗ рдЙрддреНрдХрд░реНрд╖ рдХреА рдХрдерд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдЗрд╕реА рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рднрд╛рд╡ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХреЗ рддрд╣рдд рд░рд╛рдордирд╛рдо рдХреЛ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рд╕рдВрдЧреНрд░рд╛рдо рдХреА рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рдорд╡рд╛рдг рдмрдирд╛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдерд╛редрдЗрд╕ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рдореЗрдВ рдЕрд╕рд╣рд┐рд╖реНрдгреБрддрд╛, рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛, рдЕрд╕рдорддрд╛,рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдФрд░ рд╣рд┐рдВрд╕рд╛ рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рдЬрдЧрд╣ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рджреЗрд╣ рдХреА рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рдХрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рдЕрдВрддрд░реНрд╕рдВрдмрдВрдз рдХреЗ рддрд╣рдд рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдВрддрд░реНрдирд┐рд╣рд┐рдд рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдЪрд┐рдиреНрд╣рд┐рдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдорд╛рдирддреЗ рд╣реИрдВрдГ
рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдХреЗ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдХреА рдореБрдЦреНрдп рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛ рдХреНрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ?рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдХреЛрдИ рдЕрдВрдзрддреНрд╡,рдореВрдврд╝рддреНрд╡ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдФрд░ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд┐рдЪреНрдЫреЗрдж рдШрдЯрд┐рдд рдХрд░ рджреЗрддрд╛ рд╣реИредрдорд╛рдирд╡рд╕рд╛рдордЬ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд░реНрд╡рдкреНрд░рдзрд╛рди рддрддреНрд╡ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рдПрдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИредрд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдЕрд░реНрде рд╣реА рдпрд╣реА рд╣реИ-рдПрдХрддреНрд░рд┐рдд рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЕрднреНрдпрд╛рд╕ред
рдЗрд╕реА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдзрд░реНрдо рдХреА рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рдж рдкрд░ рд░рдЪрд╛ рдмрд╕рд╛ рд╣реИ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рддреАрд░реНрде рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реБрджреНрдз рдлрд┐рд░ рдмреБрджреНрдзрдВ рд╢рд░рдгрдореН рдЧрдЪреНрдЫрд╛рдорд┐ рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдорд╛рдирд╡реАрдп рдореВрд▓реНрдпреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рд╕рдорд░реНрдкрд┐рдд рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдкрд░ рдЬреЛрд░ рджреЗрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдХрд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВрдЫ
Creation has been made possible through the
continual self-surrender of the unit to the universe.
And the spiritual universe of Man is also ever
claiming self-renunciation from the individual
units. This spiritual process is not so easy as the
physical one in the physical world, for the intelli-
gence and will of the units have to be tempered
to those of the universal spirit ┬а
рдЬреИрд╡рд┐рдХреА рдЬреАрд╡рди рд╕реЗ рдореБрдХреНрдд рдордиреБрд╖реНрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЙрддреНрдХрд░реНрд╖ рдХреЗ рд▓рдХреНрд╖реНрдп рдХреА рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдЦреНрдпрд╛ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рдХреЛрд╢рд┐рдХрд╛рдУрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рддрддреНрд╡ рдХреА рдмрд╛рдд рд╡реЗ рд╡реИрдЬреНрдЮрд╛рдирд┐рдХ рдврдВрдЧ рд╕реЗ рд░рдЦрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВрдГ
The Spirit of Life began her chapter by intro-
ducing a simple living cell against the tremen-
dously powerful challenge of the vast Inert. The
triumph was thrillingly great which still refuses to
yield its secret She did not stop there, but defi-
antly courted difficulties, and in the technique of
her art exploited an element which still baffles our
logic.
This is the harmony of self-adjusting inter-rela-
tionship impossible to analyse. She brought close
together numerous cell units and, by grouping
them into a self-sustaining sphere of co-operation,
elaborated a larger unit It was not a mere agglom-
eration. The grouping had its caste system in the
division of functions and yet an intimate unity of
kinship. The creative life summoned a larger
army of cells under her command and imparted
into them, let us say, a communal spirit that fought
with all its might whenever its integrity was
menaced.
тЖз
рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬреАрддрд┐рдХ рдлреИрд╕рд▓рд╛ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рджреНрд░реЛрд╣! рдиреЛрдЯреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЫрдкрд╛рдИ рдореЗрдВ рдШрдкрд▓рд╛,рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рд▓реАрдХ,рдкрдВрджреНрд░рд╣ рд▓рд╛рдЦ рдмреЗрд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░,рдЦреЗрддреА рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░ рддрдмрд╛рд╣ рдФрд░ рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рдШрд╛рдЯрд╛ рдпреВрдкреА рдХреА рдЬреАрдд рдХреА рдХреАрдордд! рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬреАрддрд┐рдХ рдлреИрд╕рд▓рд╛ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рджреЗрд╢ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рджреНрд░реЛрд╣!
рдиреЛрдЯреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЫрдкрд╛рдИ рдореЗрдВ рдШрдкрд▓рд╛,рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рд▓реАрдХ,рдкрдВрджреНрд░рд╣ рд▓рд╛рдЦ рдмреЗрд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░,рдЦреЗрддреА рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░ рддрдмрд╛рд╣ рдФрд░ рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рдШрд╛рдЯрд╛ рдпреВрдкреА рдХреА рдЬреАрдд рдХреА рдХреАрдордд!
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рдХрд╛рд▓рд╛рдзрди рдирд┐рдХрд╛рд▓рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╣рд╛рдиреЗ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рд▓рд╛рдЧреВ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рджрд┐рди рд╕реЗ рд▓рдЧрд╛рддрд╛рд░ рд╣рдо рдЗрд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдШрд╛рддрдХ рдмрддрд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗредрдЖрдк рдЪрд╛рд╣реЗ рддреЛ рд╣рд╕реНрддрдХреНрд╖реЗрдк рдкрд░ рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдзрд┐рдд рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдЖрд▓реЗрдЦ рджреЗрдЦ рд╕рдХрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдпрд╣ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдз рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рдПрдЬрдВрдбреЗ рдХреЗ рддрд╣рдд рдПрдХ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рдХрд╛рд░реНрд░рд╡рд╛рдИ рдпреВрдкреА рдЪреБрдирд╛рд╡ рдЬреАрддрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдереАредрдЗрд╕рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рдХрд╛рдордпрд╛рдмреА рдореЗрдВ рдХреЛрдИ рд╢рдХ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИредрд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЕрдм рддрдХ рд╣реБрдП рд╕рд░реНрд╡реЗ рдХреЗ рдирддреАрдЬреЗ рд╕реЗ рд╣рдорд╛рд░реА рдЖрд╢рдВрдХрд╛ рд╕рдЪ рд╣реБрдИ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рдирддреАрдЬрддрди рдХрд░реАрдм рдкрдВрджрд░реНрд╣ рд▓рд╛рдЦ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рдЦрддреНрдо рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╢реЗрдпрд░ рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдЙрдЫрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдкрд░реАрдд рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░ рдореЗрдВ рдордВрджреА рдЖрдпреА рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдЫреЛрдЯреЗ рдФрд░ рдордВрдЭреМрд▓реЗ рд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕рд╛рдпреА рдФрд░ рд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рдкреНрд░рджрд╛рддрд╛ рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдмрд╛рд╣рд░ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдПрдХрд╛рдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдХрд╛рдпрдо рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреА рд╕реНрд╡рд╛рдпрддреНрддрд╛ рдЦрддреНрдо рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛ рдХреЛ рднрд╛рд░реА рдШрд╛рдЯрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдмреИрдВрдХрд┐рдВрдЧ рдХреЗ рдирд┐рдЬреАрдХрд░рдг рдХреА рдкреНрд░рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛ рддреЗрдЬ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИред
рдпрд╣ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдореБрдХреНрдд рдмрд╛рдЬрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдХрд░рдг рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЬрдмрд░рди рдбрд┐рдЬрд┐рдЯрд▓ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рдХреА рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдкрд░рд┐рдпреЛрдЬрдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдЬрд┐рд╕рд╕реЗ рдирд╛рдЧрд░рд┐рдХреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЬрдорд╛ рдкреВрдВрдЬреА,рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛,рд╕рдВрдкреНрд░рднреБрддрд╛,рдирд┐рдЬрддрд╛,рдЧреЛрдкрдиреАрдпрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕реБрд░рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рдЦрддрд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдкрдбрд╝ рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИред
рдмреЗрд╣рд┐рд╕рд╛рдм рдЦрд░реНрдЪ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╡рдЬреВрдж рдХрд╛рд▓рд╛рдзрди рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рд╣рд┐рд╕рд╛рдм рдирд╣реАрдВ рдирд┐рдХрд▓рд╛ рдФрд░ рдирдпреЗ рдиреЛрдЯ рдЫрд╛рдкрдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдШрдкрд▓рд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХрд╛ рдлреИрд╕рд▓рд╛ рд▓реАрдХ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХреЗ рдПрдХ рддрдмрдХреЗ рдХреЛ рднрд╛рд░реА рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рдФрд░ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рдореБрдирд╛рдлрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЕрднреВрддрдкреВрд░реНрд╡ рд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рдкреИрджрд╛ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╣реА рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рд╕реЗ рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рдореЗрдВ рдлрдВрд╕реА рдХреГрд╖рд┐ рд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдЪреМрдкрдЯ рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпреА рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЦреЗрддреА рдмрд╛рдбрд╝реА рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдЬреБрдбрд╝реЗ рдмрд╣реБрд╕рдВрдЦреНрдп рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛,рдирд╛рдЧрд░рд┐рдХреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдХрд░рджрд╛рддрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЛ рднрд╛рд░реА рдиреБрдХрд╕рд╛рди рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИредрдЭрд┐рд╕рдХреЗ рдирддреАрдЬрддрди рдордВрджреА,рд░реЛрдЬрдЧрд╛рд░ рд╕рдВрдХрдЯ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рдЖрдЧреЗ рднреБрдЦрдорд░реА рдХрд╛ рдЕрдВрджреЗрд╢рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕ рд░рдкрдЯ рд╕реЗ рдкреБрд╖реНрдЯрд┐ рд╣реЛрддреА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рдХрд╛рд░рдкреЛрд░реЗрдЯрд╡рд┐рддреНрддреАрдп рдкреНрд░рдмрдВрдзрди рд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдФрд░ рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЛ рднрд╛рд░реА рдШрд╛рдЯрд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рддреНрддреАрдп рдкреНрд░рдмрдВрдзрди рдХрд╛ рдпрд╣ рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рдШреЛрдЯрд╛рд▓рд╛ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рдпрд╛ рдЖрддрдВрдХрд╡рд╛рджреА рд╣рдорд▓реЗ рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдЖрдо рдЬрдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рджреЗрд╢ рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╣реИред
рдЦрдмрд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ┬арднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдЕрдзрд┐рд╢реЗрд╖ рдореЗрдВ рд╕реЗ рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдХреЗ 2016-17 рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдмрддреМрд░ рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ рдХреЗрд╡рд▓ 30,659 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рд╣реА рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рджреЗрдЧрд╛ред рдЖрдВрдХрдбрд╝рд╛ рдкрд┐рдЫрд▓реЗ рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдХреЗ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓реЗ рдЖрдзреЗ рд╕реЗ рднреА рдХрдо рд╣реИ рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рдЙрд╕ рдмрд╛рд░ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рдиреЗ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рдмрддреМрд░ рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ 65,876 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рджрд┐рдП рдереЗред рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдиреЗ рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ рдореЗрдВ рдХрдореА рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рд╡рдЬрд╣ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдмрддрд╛рдИ рд╣реИ, рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЕрд░реНрдерд╢рд╛рд╕реНрддреНрд░реА рдЗрд╕реЗ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХрд╛ рдирддреАрдЬрд╛ рдорд╛рди рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдХрд╣рдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ 500 рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рдХреЗ рдкреБрд░рд╛рдиреЗ рдиреЛрдЯ рдФрд░ 1,000 рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рдХреЗ рдиреЛрдЯ рдмрдВрдж рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдирдП рдиреЛрдЯ рдЫрд╛рдкрдиреЗ рдФрд░ рдкреБрд░рд╛рдиреЗ рдиреЛрдЯ рдЦрддреНрдо рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЛ рднрд╛рд░реА рд░рдХрдо рдЦрд░реНрдЪ рдХрд░рдиреА рдкрдбрд╝реА рд╣реИред рдЗрд╕реА рдХрд╛рд░рдг рдЗрд╕ рдмрд╛рд░ рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ рдореЗрдВ рдЗрддрдиреА рдЕрдзрд┐рдХ рдХрдореА рдЖрдИ рд╣реИред┬а
2011-12 рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдпрд╣ рдкрд╣рд▓рд╛ рд╕рд╛рд▓ рд╣реИ, рдЬрдм рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рд╕реЗ рдЗрддрдирд╛ рдХрдо рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ рдорд┐рд▓рдиреЗ рдЬрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред рдЙрд╕ рд╕рд╛рд▓ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ 16,010 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рдорд┐рд▓реЗ рдереЗред рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рддреНрдд рд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдЬреБрд▓рд╛рдИ рд╕реЗ рдЬреВрди рддрдХ рдЪрд▓рддрд╛ рд╣реИред рдмреИрдВрдХ рдЕрдкрдиреА рд╡рд╛рд░реНрд╖рд┐рдХ рд░рд┐рдкреЛрд░реНрдЯ рдЕрдЧрд▓реЗ рд╣рдлреНрддреЗ рдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд╢рд┐рдд рдХрд░ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИред 2012-13 рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд╛рдИ рдПрдЪ рдорд╛рд▓реЗрдЧрд╛рдо рд╕рдорд┐рддрд┐ рдиреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ рдХрд┐ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЗ рдкрд╛рд╕ рдзрди рдХрд╛ рдкрд░реНрдпрд╛рдкреНрдд рднрдВрдбрд╛рд░ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЙрд╕реЗ рд╕рдореВрдЪреА рдЕрдзрд┐рд╢реЗрд╖ рд░рд╛рд╢рд┐ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рджреЗрдиреА рдЪрд╛рд╣рд┐рдПред рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рд╕реЗ рд╣реА рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рд╕рдореВрдЪрд╛ рдЕрдзрд┐рд╢реЗрд╖ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЛ рд╕реМрдВрдкрддрд╛ рдЖ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред 2013-14 рдореЗрдВ рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ 52,679 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рджрд┐рдП рдереЗ рдФрд░ 2014-15 рдореЗрдВ 65,896 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рд╕реМрдВрдкреЗ рдереЗред
2017-18 рдХреЗ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмрдЬрдЯ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдиреЗ рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдФрд░ рджреВрд╕рд░реЗ рд╡рд┐рддреНрддреАрдп рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдерд╛рдиреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдмрддреМрд░ рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ 74,901 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рдорд┐рд▓рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдиреБрдорд╛рди рд▓рдЧрд╛рдпрд╛ рдерд╛ред рдПрдХ рд╡рд░рд┐рд╖реНрда рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░реА рдЕрдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░реА рдиреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдореЗрдВ рдореАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЛ рдмрддрд╛рдпрд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЗрд╕рдореЗрдВ рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХрд╛ рдпреЛрдЧрджрд╛рди рдХрд░реАрдм 58,000 рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ред рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рд╕реЗ рдХрдо рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ рдорд┐рд▓рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдПрдХ рдЕрд░реНрде рдпрд╣ рднреА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХреА рдХрд╡рд╛рдпрдж рдореЗрдВ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЛ рд╡рд╛рд╕реНрддрд╡ рдореЗрдВ рдмрд╣реБрдд рдЕрдзрд┐рдХ рд░рдХрдо рдЦрд░реНрдЪ рдХрд░рдиреА рдкрдбрд╝реА рд╣реИред
рдЖрд░рдмреАрдЖрдИ рдирд┐рд╡реЗрд╢ рдЧрддрд┐рд╡рд┐рдзрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рд╣реБрдИ рдЕрддрд┐рд░рд┐рдХреНрдд рдХрдорд╛рдИ рдХреЗ рдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ рджреЗрддрд╛ рд╣реИ, рди рдХрд┐ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдкреБрдирд░реНрдореВрд▓реНрдпрд╛рдВрдХрд┐рдд рд╕реБрд░рдХреНрд╖рд┐рдд рднрдВрдбрд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗред рд▓рд┐рд╣рд╛рдЬрд╛ рдпрд╣ рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬ рд▓рдЧрд╛рдирд╛ рд╕рдВрднрд╡ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЗ рдкрд╛рд╕ рдХрд┐рддрдиреЗ рдкреБрд░рд╛рдиреЗ рдиреЛрдЯ рдЖрдП рд╣реЛрдВрдЧреЗред рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЗ рдЧрд╡рд░реНрдирд░ рдКрд░реНрдЬрд┐рдд рдкрдЯреЗрд▓ рдиреЗ рдЬреБрд▓рд╛рдИ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рдВрд╕рджреАрдп рд╕рдорд┐рддрд┐ рдХреЛ рдмрддрд╛рдпрд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЕрднреА рдкреБрд░рд╛рдиреЗ рдиреЛрдЯреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЧрд┐рдирддреА рдкреВрд░реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛ рдкрд╛рдИ рд╣реИред рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рднреА рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЛрдВрдиреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ рдерд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЬреЛ рдиреЛрдЯ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд▓реМрдЯреЗ рд╣реИрдВ, рд╡реЗ рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреА рджреЗрдирджрд╛рд░реА рдореЗрдВ рд╢рд╛рдорд┐рд▓ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдРрд╕реЗ рдиреЛрдЯреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ рдХреЗ рддреМрд░ рдкрд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ред рдЖрдо рдмрдЬрдЯ рдореЗрдВ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХреЗ рдХрд╛рд░рдг рд░рд┐рдЬрд░реНрд╡ рдмреИрдВрдХ рд╕реЗ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рддрд░рд╣ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реЗрд╖ рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рд╛рд╡рдзрд╛рди рдирд╣реАрдВ рд░рдЦрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рдерд╛ред рдЗрд╕рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХреБрдЫ рдЕрд░реНрдерд╢рд╛рд╕реНрддреНрд░рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдорд╛рдирдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдРрд╕реЗ рдиреЛрдЯреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рдВрдЦреНрдпрд╛ рд▓рд╛рдЦреЛрдВ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рдореЗрдВ рд╣реЛ рд╕рдХрддреА рд╣реИред рдХрдо рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ рдорд┐рд▓рдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рд╕рд░рдХрд╛рд░ рдкрд░ рджрдмрд╛рд╡ рдмрдврд╝реЗрдЧрд╛, рд░рд╛рдЬрдХреЛрд╖реАрдп рдШрд╛рдЯрд╛ рдкреВрд░рд╛ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ рджрд┐рдХреНрдХрдд рдЖрдПрдЧреАред
рдХреЗрдпрд░ рд░реЗрдЯрд┐рдВрдЧреНрд╕ рдХреЗ рдореБрдЦреНрдп рдЕрд░реНрдерд╢рд╛рд╕реНрддреНрд░реА рдорджрди рд╕рдмрдирд╡реАрд╕ рдиреЗ рдХрд╣рд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЕрдЧрд░ рджреВрд╕рд░реЗ рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рдмрджрд▓реЗ рддреЛ рд░рд╛рдЬрдХреЛрд╖реАрдп рдШрд╛рдЯрд╛ рдЗрд╕ рд╕рд╛рд▓ 3.2 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рд╕реЗ рдмрдврд╝рдХрд░ 3.4 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рд╣реЛ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ рд╣реИред рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдВрдХрд┐ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рдиреЗ рдХрдо рд▓рд╛рднрд╛рдВрд╢ рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рдХрд╛рд░рдг рдирд╣реАрдВ рдмрддрд╛рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЕрд░реНрдерд╢рд╛рд╕реНрддреНрд░рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдорд╛рдирдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдирдП рдиреЛрдЯ рдЫрд╛рдкрдиреЗ рдФрд░ рд░рд┐рд╡рд░реНрд╕ рд░реАрдкреЛ рдХреЗ рдЬрд░рд┐рдпреЗ рдирдХрджреА рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рдмрдВрдзрди рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рдкрд░ рднрд╛рд░реА рдкрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдЙрд╕рдХрд╛ рдЦрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдмрдврд╝рд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ред рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХреА рдЪрд░рдо рдкрд░рд┐рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдЗрддрдиреА ┬ардЕрдзрд┐рдХ рд░рд╛рд╢рд┐ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдорд╛ рдХрд░рд╛рдИ рдХрд┐ рдпрд╣ 5 рд▓рд╛рдЦ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рддрдХ рдкрд╣реБрдВрдЪ рдЧрдИред рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЛ рдЗрд╕ рдкрд░ 6 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рдмреНрдпрд╛рдЬ рджреЗрдирд╛ рдкрдбрд╝рд╛ред
рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд▓реЗрд╖рдХреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЕрдиреБрд╕рд╛рд░ рдиреЛрдЯрдмрдВрджреА рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рд░реЛрдЬрд╛рдирд╛ рдФрд╕рддрди 2 рд▓рд╛рдЦ рдХрд░реЛрдбрд╝ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рд╕реЗ рдЕрдзрд┐рдХ рдХреА рдирдХрджреА рдмреИрдВрдХреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рд▓реЗрддрд╛ рд░рд╣рд╛ред рдЗрд╕ рдХрд╛рд░рдг рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рдкрд░ рднрд╛рд░реА рдмреЛрдЭ рдкрдбрд╝рд╛ред рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рд░реЗрдЯрд┐рдВрдЧреНрд╕ рдРрдВрдб рд░рд┐рд╕рд░реНрдЪ рдХреЗ рдореБрдЦреНрдп рдЕрд░реНрдерд╢рд╛рд╕реНрддреНрд░реА рджреЗрд╡реЗрдВрджреНрд░ рдкрдВрдд рдХреЗ рдЕрдиреБрд╕рд╛рд░ рдбреЙрд▓рд░ рдХреЗ рдореБрдХрд╛рдмрд▓реЗ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдордЬрдмреВрддреА рд╕реЗ рднреА рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░реАрдп рдмреИрдВрдХ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рджреЗрд╢реА рдореБрджреНрд░рд╛ рднрдВрдбрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рд░реБрдкрдпреЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХрдо рд░рд┐рдЯрд░реНрди рдорд┐рд▓рд╛ рд╣реЛрдЧрд╛ред рдЬрдирд╡рд░реА рд╕реЗ рдЕрдм рддрдХ рд░реБрдкрдпрд╛ 6 рдлреАрд╕рджреА рд╕реЗ рдЕрдзрд┐рдХ рдордЬрдмреВрдд рд╣реИред
тЖз
тЖз
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢-3 рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдз рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж,рдЕрд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреА рдиреАрдВрд╡ рдкрд░ рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдереЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рдеред рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рд╡рд┐рд╖рдорддрд╛,рдЕрд╕рдорддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдореВрд▓ рд╕реНрд╡рд░ рдХреЛ рд╣реА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдкрд░ рдХрд╛рдмрд┐рдЬ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд╡рддрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдиреЗ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдйрдЬрд░рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬ рдХрд░рдХреЗ рдЙрд╕ рдкрд░ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рднреА рд╕реНрддрд░ рдкрд░ рдХреЛрдИ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдЙрд╕реА рддрд░рд╣ рдирд╣реА рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рджреА рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдХрд┐ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдиреЗ
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢-3
рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдз рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж,рдЕрд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреА рдиреАрдВрд╡ рдкрд░ рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдереЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рдеред
рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ ┬ард╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рд╡рд┐рд╖рдорддрд╛,рдЕрд╕рдорддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдореВрд▓ рд╕реНрд╡рд░ рдХреЛ рд╣реА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдкрд░ рдХрд╛рдмрд┐рдЬ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд╡рддрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдиреЗ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдйрдЬрд░рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬ рдХрд░рдХреЗ рдЙрд╕ рдкрд░ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рднреА рд╕реНрддрд░ рдкрд░ ┬ардХреЛрдИ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдЙрд╕реА рддрд░рд╣ рдирд╣реА рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рджреА рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдХрд┐ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдиреЗ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ ┬ардХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдз рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрджреА рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдХреЛ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдирдЬрд░рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬ рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреА рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдХреЛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдХрд╛ рдкрд░реНрдпрд╛рдп рдмрдирд╛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдзрд░реНрдо рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рди рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЛ рд╕рдордЭрдирд╛ рд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рди рднрд╛рд░рддрд╡рд░реНрд╖ рдХреЗ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕,рдЙрд╕рдХреА рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рд░рд╛рд╕рдд рдХреА рдЬрдореАрди рдкрд░ рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рд╣реЛрдХрд░ рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛,рд▓реЛрдХрддрдВрддреНрд░,рд╕рдВрд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдФрд░ рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рджреНрдзрд╛рдВрддреЛрдВ рдкрд░ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░рд┐рдд рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рджреА рдорд╛рдирд╡рдореВрд▓реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЖрддреНрдорд╕рд╛рдд рдХрд░рдирд╛ рд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИред
рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж рдХреА рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдЬрд┐рд╕ рдЕрд╕рдорддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп,рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рдХрд╛рд░реЛрдмрд╛рд░ рдХреЛ рдзрд░реНрдо рдмрддрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдзрд░реНрдо рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдкрд░реАрдд рд╣реИред
рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рд╡реЗрджреЛрдВ,рдЙрдкрдирд┐рд╖рджреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдкреБрд░рд╛рдгреЛрдВ,рдорд╣рд╛рдХрд╛рд╡реНрдпреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдзрд░реНрдо рдХрд╣реАрдВ рднреА рдЕрд╕реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдпрд╛ рдкрд╣рдЪрд╛рди рдмрддреМрд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдзрд░реНрдо рдХрд╛ рд╕реАрдзрд╛ рдорддрд▓рдм рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдХрд╛ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдХреЗ рд╣реИрд╕рд┐рдпрдд рд╕реЗ рджреВрд╕рд░реЗ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЬреАрд╡рдЬрдВрддреБрдУрдВ,рдкреНрд░рдХреГрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рдкрд░реНрдпрд╛рд╡рд░рдг,рд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдФрд░ рд╕рднреНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐ рдХрд░реНрддрд╡реНрдпрдмреЛрдз рд╕реЗ рдЬреБрдбрд╝рд╛ рдорд╛рдирд╡рдореВрд▓реНрдп рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдкреАрд░ рдлрдХреАрд░ рд╕рдВрдд рд╕рд╛рдзреБ рдмрд╛рдЙрд▓ рдЧреБрд░реБ рдкрд░рдВрдкрд░рд╛ рдХреА рд▓реЛрдХрддрд╛рдВрддреНрд░рд┐рдХ рдЬрдирдкрдж рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рд╣реИред
рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдФрд░ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдХреЗ рдмреАрдЪ рдХреЛрдИ рднреЗрджрднрд╛рд╡ рд╕рдВрднрд╡ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реЛрддрд╛ред
рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рд╣реА рдИрд╢реНрд╡рд░ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдХреА рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрдкреНрд░рднреБрддрд╛ рд╣реА рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рд╣реИред
рдЗрдиреНрд╣реАрдВ рдорд╛рдирд╡рдореВрд▓реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдкрдХреНрд╖ рдореЗрдВ рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рд╕реЗ рдЦрд╛рд╕рддреМрд░ рдкрд░ рдЙрдкрдирд┐рд╖рджреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд┐рд╡рд┐рдз рдкреНрд░рд╕рдВрдЧ рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрдн рдЬреЛрдбрд╝реЗ рдЧрдпреЗ рд╣реИрдВредрддреЛ рдмреМрджреНрдзрд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреЗ рдХрдерд╛рдирдХ рдФрд░ рдмреНрд░рд╣рдорд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рднреА рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХрд╛ рдЕрднрд┐рдиреНрди рд╣рд┐рд╕реНрд╕рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕реА рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрдн рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХрд╛ рдЦрд╛рд╕ рдорд╣рддреНрд╡ рд╣реИред
рдЕрд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рд╣реЛрдХрд░ рд╣реА рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреА рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдХреА рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдп рдЬреАрд╡рдирдпрдВрддреНрд░рдгрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдпрд╣рд╛рдВ рднреА рдорд╛рдирд╡рдореВрд▓реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреА ┬ардЕрднрд┐рд╡реНрдпрдХреНрддрд┐ рдЧреМрддрдо рдмреБрджреНрдз рдХрд╛ рдзрдореНрдо рд╣реИред
рднрд╛рд░рдд рддреАрд░реНрде рдХреА рдкрд░рд┐рдХрд▓реНрдкрдирд╛ рд╣рд╡рд╛ рд╣рд╡рд╛рдИ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рднрд┐рдиреНрди рдЬрдирд╕рдореБрджрд╛рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рддрд╛рдЬрд╛ рдбреАрдПрдирдП рдЖрдВрдХрдбрд╝реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рддрдереНрдпреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдорд╛рдирд╡рдзрд╛рд░рд╛рдУрдВ рдХреЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рдХреНрд░рдорд╢рдГ рдПрдХрд╛рдХрд╛рд░ рд╣реЛрддреЗ рдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдЪ рд╕рд╛рдмрд┐рдд рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рд╣рд╛рд▓рд╛рдВрдХрд┐ рдорд╛рдирд╡рд╢рд╛рд╕реНрддреНрд░рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЕрдзреНрдпрдпрди рдФрд░ рдирддреАрдЬреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд╛рдлреА рднрд┐рдиреНрдирддрд╛ рд╣реИ,рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд░рдХреНрдд рдХреА рд╢реБрджреНрдзрддрд╛ рдЬреИрд╕реА рдХреЛрдИ рдЖрдиреБрд╡рд╛рдВрд╢рд┐рдХреА рдХрд┐рд╕реА рднреА рдЬрдирд╕рдореБрджрд╛рдп рдореЗрдВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ,рдЗрди рдЕрдзреНрдпрдпрдиреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рд░ рдпрд╣реА рдмрддрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдореЗрдВ рдЕрддреАрдд рдХреЗ рд╣рдорд▓реЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдХреЛрдИ рдЕрд╡рд╢реЗрд╖ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд░рдХреНрддрдзрд╛рд░рд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрд╛рддрд┐, рдзрд░реНрдо, рдирд╕реНрд▓,рднрд╛рд╖рд╛ рдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░ рдкрд░ рдЪрд┐рдиреНрд╣рд┐рдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЬрд╛ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ред рди рд╣реА рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдХрд╛ рд╣рд┐рд╕рд╛рдм рдмрд░рд╛рдмрд░ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреА рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рд╣реИред
рдзрд░реНрдо рдореЗрдВ рднреА,рд╡реИрджрд┐рдХреА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рднреА рдЗрд╕рдХреА рдЗрдЬрд╛рдЬрдд рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИред
рдХреБрд░реБрдХреНрд╖реЗрддреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рдпреБрджреНрдз рдлрд┐рд░ рд▓рдбрд╝рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдЬрд╛ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ред
рдорд╣рд┐рд╖рд╛рд╕реБрд░ рд╡рдз рдХреА рдирд┐рд░рдВрддрд░рддрд╛ рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж рдХрд╛ рдЙрддреНрд╕рд╡ рд╣реИред
рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рд▓рд╛рдЧреВ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рд╢реБрд░реБ рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЬрдирд╕рдореБрджрд╛рдУрдВ рдХреА рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рдЖрдиреБрд╡рд╛рдВрд╢рд┐рдХреА рдХрд╛ рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкрдХ рд╡рд┐рд▓рдп рд╣реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рдерд╛ред
рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдФрд░ рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдХреА рдмреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛рдж рдкрд░ рд╣реА рдЕрд╕реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░рд┐рдд рдЕрдВрдз рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рд╣реИ рдЬреЛ рд╕реИрдиреНрдп рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рдкрдХреНрд╖рдзрд░ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЬрдирдкрджреЛрдВ,рдЬрдирд╕рдореБрджрд╛рдпреЛрдВ,рдкреНрд░рдХреГрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рдкрд░реНрдпрд╛рд╡рд░рдг рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реБрджреНрдз рдЕрдмрд╛рдз рдирд░рд╕рдВрд╣рд╛рд░реА рдЕрд╢реНрд╡рдореЗрдз рдЕрднрд┐рдпрд╛рди рднреА рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕реА рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрдн рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗрд╡рд╛рд░ рдЬрд╛рдирдирд╛ рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реИредрд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрд╡рд┐рд╡реЗрдХ рдХреА рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рдкрд░ рдЬреЛрд░ рджреЗрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕ рдирд┐рдбрд░ рд╡рд┐рд╡реЗрдХ рдХреЛ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝рд╛ рд▓рдХреНрд╖рдг рдорд╛рдирддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХрд╛ рдирд┐рд╖реЗрдз рдЕрдВрдз рдЕрд╕реНрдорд┐рддрд╛рдирд┐рд░реНрднрд░ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХрд░рддрд╛ рд╣реИредрдЗрд╕реАрд▓рд┐рдП рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдГ
'I will never allow patriotism to triumph over humanity as long as I live'
In 1908, Rabindranath Tagore wrote a letter to his friend, A M Bose, and said, "Patriotism can't be our final spiritual shelter. I will not buy glass for the price of diamonds and I will never allow patriotism to triumph over humanity as long as I live." Three years after he wrote this letter тАФ part of Selected Letters of Rabindranath Tagore, published by Cambridge University Press in 1997 тАФ his composition, Jana Gana Mana, was sung for the first time at the Calcutta session of the Congress. (рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрднрдГрдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрди рдПрдХреНрд╕рдкреНрд░реЗрд╕,2 рджрд┐рд╕рдВрдмрд░,2016).
рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕рдХрд╛рд░ рд░рд╛рдордЪрдВрджреНрд░ рдЧреБрд╣рд╛ рдХрд╛ рдорд╛рдирдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдкрд░ рдпреВрд░реЛрдк рдХреЗ рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛рдлреА рдкреНрд░рднрд╛рд╡ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдпреВрд░реЛрдк рдХреЗ рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рдХреЗ рдорд╛рдирд╡рдореВрд▓реНрдпреЛрдВ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдп рдХреА рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛,рд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЧреБрд▓рд╛рдореА рд╕реЗ рдЖрдЬрд╛рджреА рдХрд╛ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде рд╕рдордиреНрд╡рдп рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХрд╛ рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдЖрдо рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ,рдЦрд╛рд╕рдХрд░ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпреЛрдВ,рд╢реВрджреНрд░реЛрдВ, рдкрд┐рдЫрдбреЛрд╝рдВ, рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕рд┐рдпреЛрдВ, рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдореЗрд╣рдирддрдХрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╣рдХрд╣рдХреВрдХ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдореМрди рд╣реИ рдХреНрд░рд╛рдВрддрд┐рдХрд╛рд░реА рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рд╕реБрдзрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд╡рд╛рдЬреВрджред
рдИрд╕реНрдЯ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрдВрдкрдиреА рдХреЗ рд╢рд╛рд╕рди рдХреА рд╢реБрд░реБрдЖрдд рд╕реЗ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓, рдмрд┐рд╣рд╛рд░, рдЭрд╛рд░рдЦрдВрдб, рдУрдбрд╝реАрд╢рд╛, рдЫрддреНрддреАрд╕ рд╕реЗ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдЧреБрдЬрд░рд╛рдд рдФрд░ рдЖрдВрдзреНрд░ рддрдХ рдЬреЛ рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рди рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕реА рд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рд╣реЛрддреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рдЙрдйрдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рдХреЗ рдорд╕реАрд╣рд╛рд╡реГрдВрдж рдореМрди рд╣реИрдВред
рд╕рдВрдерд╛рд▓ рдореБрдВрдбрд╛ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рд╕реЗ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдиреАрд▓ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рддрдХ рдФрд░ 1857 рдХреА рдХреНрд░рд╛рдВрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рдХрдВрдкрдиреА рд░рд╛рдЬ рдХрд╛ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рдиреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдЙрд╕реА рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рдХреА рдкреГрд╖реНрдарднреВрдорд┐ рд╕реЗ рдирд┐рдХрд▓рдХрд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдореЗрдВ рд╕реНрддреНрд░реА рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдкрд┐рддреГрд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рд╢рд╛рдпрдж рд╕реНрд╡рд╛рднрд╛рд╡рд┐рдХ рд╣реА рд╣реИред
рдЧреМрд░рддрд▓рдм рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ ┬ард╢рд░рддрдЪрдВрджреНрд░ рднреА рдкрд┐рддреГрд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рд╡реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдпрд╛ рдкреНрд░реЗрдордЪрдВрдж рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдореЗрд╣рдирддрдХрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╣рдХрд╣рдХреВрдХ рдХреА рдЖрд╡рд╛рдЬ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдЙрдард╛рддреЗ рдФрд░ рди рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╡рд░реНрдгрд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рд╕реЗ рд╢рд░рддрдЪрдВрджрд░ рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рд╢рд┐рдХрд╛рдпрдд рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕реА рдмрд┐рдВрджреВ рдкрд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдореЗрд╣рдирддрдХрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдп рддрдмрдХреЗ рдХреЗ рдЬреАрд╡рдирдпрд╛рдкрди рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдХреА рдорд╛рдВрдЧ рдореЗрдВ рдмрджрд▓ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИ.рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рдпреВрд░реЛрдкреАрдп рдирд╡рдЬрд╛рдЧрд░рдг рдХрд╛ рдЕрд╕рд░ рдХрд╣реАрдВ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкрдХ рд╣реИред
рджреИрд╡реА рд╢рдХреНрддрд┐ рдореЗрдВ рдЖрд╕реНрдерд╛ рдХреЗ рдмрдЬрд╛рдп рдЗрд╕реАрд▓рд┐рдП рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рдЖрдзреНрдпрд╛рддреНрдо рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рдВрдд рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдордВрддрд╡рд╛рдж рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдз рдореЗрдВ рдмрджрд▓ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрдиреНрд╣реАрдВ рдореВрд▓реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рд╕рдВрдЧреНрд░рд╛рдо рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдореНрд░рд╛рдЬреНрдпрд╡рд╛рдж рд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдореЗрдВ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЧрд╛рдВрдзреА рдХрд╛ рдЬреАрд╡рди рджрд░реНрд╢рди рдмреМрджреНрдзрдордп рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╕рддреНрдп,рдЕрд╣рд┐рдВрд╕рд╛ рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░реЗрдо рдкрд░ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░рд┐рдд рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рд░реНрд╡реЛрдЪреНрдЪ рдЖрджрд░реНрд╢ рдФрд░ рд▓рдХреНрд╖рдг рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рд╣реИрдВред
рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рд╡рд░реНрдорд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдХреА рдЕрд╕реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЕрдВрдз рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╡реЗ рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рд╣реЛрдХрд░ рдХрд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдХрд┐ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдЕрдкрдорд╛рди рд╣реИред
рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдирд╛рдЧрд░рд┐рдХ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рдорд╛рдирд╡ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рд╕реЗ рдЬреНрдпрд╛рджрд╛ рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реИ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ред
рдкрд╢реНрдЪрд┐рдо рдореЗрдВ рдлрд╛рд╕реАрд╡рд╛рджреА рдирд╛рдЬреА рдЕрдВрдз рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдордирд╛ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдпрд╣реА рдХрд╣ рд╕рдХрддреЗ рдереЗред
рдЗрд╕рд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реА рдмрд╛рдд рдпрд╣ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдорд╛рдирддреЗ рдереЗ рдХрд┐ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рд╡рд┐рд╖рдорддрд╛,рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдФрд░ рдЕрд╕рдорддрд╛ рдХреЛ рдЦрддреНрдо рдХрд┐рдпреЗ рдмрд┐рдирд╛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рднреМрдЧреЛрд▓рд┐рдХ рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдкрд░ рдирд┐рд░реНрднрд░ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдпрд╛ рдиреЗрд╢рди рдмрди рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╕рдХрддрд╛редрдЙрдирдХреЗ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХрд╛ рдпрд╣ рдореБрдЦреНрдп рд╕реВрддреНрд░ рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕ рдкрд░ рд╕рдВрд╡рд╛рдж рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХ рдпреВрд░реЛрдк рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рдЬрдиреНрдо рд╣реБрдЖ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдФрд░ рд╢реЛрд╖рд┐рддреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рджреНрд╡рдВрджреНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдирддреАрдЬрддрдиредрд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рд░рд╛ рд╡рд╛рдж рд╡рд┐рд╡рд╛рдж рдЬрд╛рддрд┐ рдФрд░ рдзрд░реНрдо рдХреЛ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рд╣реИред
рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд╢реЛрд╖рд┐рддреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдПрдХрддрд╛рдмрджреНрдз рдзреНрд░реВрд╡реАрдХрд░рдг рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рдЦрдВрдб рдЦрдВрдб рдЕрд╕реНрдорд┐рддрд╛рдУрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдмрдВрдЯрд╛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдмрди рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╕рдХрддрд╛ред
рдЗрд╕рдХрд╛ рдЖрд╢рдп рдпрд╣реА рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрджрд░реНрдн рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХрд╛ рдорддрд▓рдм рд╡рд┐рд╖рдорддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдмреЗрджрдмрд╛рд╡,рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдмрд╣рд┐рд╕реНрдХрд╛рд░ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░рд┐рдд рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдХреЗ рдЕрдВрдз рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЛ рдлрд╛рд╕реАрд╡рд╛рдж рдХреА рддрд░рд╣ рдмрд░рд╛рдмрд░ рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛,рд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реБрджреНрдз рдорд╛рди рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗред
рдореМрдЬреВрджрд╛ рдкрд░рд┐рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рдо рдЗрд╕реА рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдордирд╛ рдХрд░ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВред
рдХреГрдкрдпрд╛ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдкрд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рдЗрд╕ рдЖрд▓реЗрдЦ рдХреЛ рдкрдврд╝реЗ,рдЬрд┐рд╕рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдкрд░рд╛рдзреАрдй рднрд╛рд░рдд рдореЗрдВ рдореБрдЦреНрдп рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐рдХ рдХреЗ рдмрдЬрд╛рдп рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдорд╛рдирд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕реАрд▓рд┐рдП рдЕрд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреА рдиреАрдВрд╡ рдкрд░ рдЦрдбрд╝реЗ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдереЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рдеред
рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ ┬ард╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рд╡рд┐рд╖рдорддрд╛,рдЕрд╕рдорддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдореВрд▓ рд╕реНрд╡рд░ рдХреЛ рд╣реА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдкрд░ рдХрд╛рдмрд┐рдЬ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд╡рддрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдиреЗ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдйрдЬрд░рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬ рдХрд░рдХреЗ рдЙрд╕ рдкрд░ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рднреА рд╕реНрддрд░ рдкрд░ ┬ардХреЛрдИ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдЙрд╕реА рддрд░рд╣ рдирд╣реА рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рджреА рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдХрд┐ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдиреЗ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдз рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрджреА рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдХреЛ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдирдЬрд░рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬ рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреА рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдХреЛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдХрд╛ рдкрд░реНрдпрд╛рдп рдмрдирд╛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
NATIONALISM IN INDIA
Rabindra Nath Tagore
(Thanks to tagore web.in,The complete Works of Rabindra Nath Tagore)
OUR REAL PROBLEM in India is not political. It is social. This is a condition not only prevailing in India, but among all nations. I do not believe in an exclusive political interest. Politics in the West have dominated Western ideals, and we in India are trying to imitate you. We have to remember that in Europe, where peoples had their racial unity from the beginning, and where natural resources were insufficient for the inhabitants, the civilization has naturally taken the character of political and commercial aggressiveness. For on the one hand they had no internal complications, and on the other they had to deal with neighbours who were strong and rapacious. To have perfect combination among themselves and a watchful attitude of animosity against others was taken as the solution of their problems. In former days they organized and plundered, in the present age the same spirit continues - and they organize and exploit the whole world.
But from the earliest beginnings of history, India has had her own problem constantly before her - it is the race problem. Each nation must be conscious of its mission and we, in India, must realize that we cut a poor figure when we are trying to be political, simply because we have not yet been finally able to accomplish what was set before us by our providence.
This problem of race unity which we have been trying to solve for so many years has likewise to be faced by you here in America. Many people in this country ask me what is happening as to the caste distinctions in India. But when this question is asked me, it is usually done with a superior air. And I feel tempted to put the same question to our American critics with a slight modification, 'What have you done with the Red Indian and the Negro?' For you have not got over your attitude of caste toward them. You have used violent methods to keep aloof from other races, but until you have solved the question here in America, you have no right to question India.
In spite of our great difficulty, however, India has done something. She has tried to make an adjustment of races, to acknowledge the real differences between them where these exist, and yet seek for some basis of unity. This basis has come through our saints, like Nanak, Kabir, Chaitanya and others, preaching one God to all races of India.
In finding the solution of our problem we shall have helped to solve the world problem as well. What India has been, the whole world is now. The whole world is becoming one country through scientific facility. And the moment is arriving when you also must find a basis of unity which is not political. If India can offer to the world her solution, it will be a contribution to humanity. There is only one history - the history of man. All national histories are merely chapters in the larger one. And we are content in India to suffer for such a great cause.
Each individual has his self-love. Therefore his brute instinct leads him to fight with others in the sole pursuit of his self-interest. But man has also his higher instincts of sympathy and mutual help. The people who are lacking in this higher moral power and who therefore cannot combine in fellowship with one another must perish or live in a state of degradation. Only those peoples have survived and achieved civilization who have this spirit of cooperation strong in them. So we find that from the beginning of history men had to choose between fighting with one another and combining, between serving their own interest or the common interest of all.
In our early history when the geographical limits of each country and also the facilities of communication were small, this problem was comparatively small in dimension. It was sufficient for men to develop their sense of unity within their area of segregation. In those days they combined among them-selves and fought against others. But it was this moral spirit of combination which was the true basis of their greatness, and this fostered their art, science and religion. At that-early time the most important fact that man had to take count of was the fact of the members of one particular race of men coming in close contact with one another. Those who truly grasped this fact through their higher nature made their mark in history.
The most important fact of the present age is that all the different races of men have come close together. And again we are confronted with two alternatives. The problem is whether the different groups of peoples shall go on fighting with one another or find out some true basis of reconciliation and mutual help; whether it will be interminable competition or cooperation.
I have no hesitation in saying that those who are gifted with the moral power of love and vision of spiritual unity, who have the least feeling of enmity against aliens, and the sympathetic insight to place themselves in the position of others will be the fittest to take their permanent place in the age that is lying before us, and those who are constantly developing their instinct of fight and intolerance of aliens will be eliminated. For this is the problem before us, and we have to prove our humanity by solving it through the help of our higher nature. The gigantic organizations for hurting others and warding off their blows, for making money by dragging others back, will not help us. On the contrary, by their crushing weight, their enormous cost and their deadening effect upon the living humanity they will seriously impede our freedom in the larger life of a higher civilization.
During the evolution of the Nation the moral culture of brotherhood was limited by geographical boundaries, because at that time those boundaries were true. Now they have become imaginary lines of tradition divested of the qualities of real obstacles. So the time has come when man's moral nature must deal with this great fact with all seriousness or perish. The first impulse of this change of circumstance has been the churning up of man's baser passions of greed and cruel hatred. If this persists indefinitely and armaments go on exaggerating themselves to unimaginable absurdities, and machines and store-houses envelop this fair earth with their dirt and smoke and ugliness, then it will end in a conflagration of suicide. Therefore man will have to exert all his power of love and clarity of vision to make another great moral adjustment which will comprehend the whole world of men and not merely the fractional groups of nationality. The call has come to every individual in the present age to prepare himself and his surroundings for this dawn of a new era when man shall discover his soul in the spiritual unity of all human beings.
If it is given at all to the West to struggle out of these tangles of the lower slopes to the spiritual summit of humanity, then I cannot but think that it is the special mission of America to fulfil this hope of God and man. You are the country of expectation, desiring something else than what is. Europe has her subtle habits of mind and her conventions. But America, as yet, has come to no conclusions. I realize how much America is untrammeled by the traditions of the past, and I can appreciate that experimentalism is a sign of America's youth. The foundation of her glory is in the future, rather than in the past; and if one is gifted with the power of clairvoyance, one will be able to love the America that is to be.
America is destined to justify Western civilization to the East. Europe has lost faith in humanity, and has become distrustful and sickly. America, on the other hand, is not pessimistic or blase. You know, as a people, that there is such a thing as a better and a best; and that knowledge drives you on. There are habits that are not merely passive but aggressively arrogant. They are not like mere walls but are like hedges of stinging nettles. Europe has been cultivating these hedges of habits for long years till they have grown round her dense and strong and high. The pride of her traditions has sent its roots deep into her heart. I do not wish to contend that it is unreasonable. But pride in every form breeds blindness at the end. Like all artificial stimulants its first effect is a heightening of consciousness and then with the increasing dose it muddles it and brings in exultation that is misleading. Europe has gradually grown hardened in her pride of all her outer and inner habits. She not only cannot forget that she is Western, but she takes every opportunity to hurl this fact against others to humiliate them. This is why she is growing incapable of imparting to the East what is best in herself, and of accepting in a right spirit the wisdom that the East has stored for centuries.
In America national habits and traditions have not had time to spread their clutching roots round your hearts. You have constantly felt and complained of its disadvantages when you compared your nomadic restlessness with the settled traditions of Europe - the Europe which can show her picture of greatness to the best advantage because she can fix it against the back- ground of the Past. But in this present age of transition, when a new era of civilization is sending its trumpet call to all peoples of the world across an unlimited future, this very freedom of detachment will enable you to accept its invitation and to achieve the goal for which Europe began her journey but lost herself midway. For she was tempted out of her path by her pride of power and greed of possession.
Not merely your freedom from habits of mind in the individuals but also the freedom of your history from all unclean entanglements fits you in your career of holding the banner of civilization of the future. All the great nations of Europe have their victims in other parts of the world. This not only deadens their moral sympathy but also their intellectual sympathy, which is so necessary for the understanding of races which are different from one's own. Englishmen can never truly understand India because their minds are not disinterested with regard to that country. If you compare England with Germany or France you will find she has produced the smallest number of scholars who have studied Indian literature and philosophy with any amount of sympathetic insight or thoroughness. This attitude of apathy and contempt is natural where the relationship is abnormal and founded upon national selfishness and pride. But your history has been disinterested and that is why you have been able to help Japan in her lessons in Western civilization and that is why China can look upon you with her best confidence in this her darkest period of danger. In fact you are carrying all the responsibility of a great future because you are untrammeled by the grasping miserliness of a past. Therefore of all countries of the earth America has to be fully conscious of this future, her vision must not be obscured and her faith in humanity must be strong with the strength of youth.
A parallelism exists between America and India - the parallelism of welding together into one body various races.
In my country, we have been seeking to find out something common to all races, which will prove their real unity. No nation looking for a mere political or commercial basis of unity will find such a solution sufficient. Men of thought and power will discover the spiritual unity, will realize it, and preach it.
India has never had a real sense of nationalism. Even though from childhood I had been taught that the idolatry of Nation is almost better than reverence for God and humanity, I believe I have outgrown that teaching, and it is my conviction that my countrymen will gain truly their India by fighting against that education which teaches them that a country is greater than the ideals of humanity.
The educated Indian at present is trying to absorb some lessons from history contrary to the lessons of our ancestors. The East, in fact, is attempting to take unto itself a history which is not the outcome of its own living. Japan, for example, thinks she is getting powerful through adopting Western methods, but, after she has exhausted her inheritance, only the borrowed weapons of civilization will remain to her. She will not have developed herself from within.
Europe has her past. Europe's strength therefore lies in her history. We, in India, must make up our minds that we cannot borrow other people's history, and that if we stifle our own, we are committing suicide. When you borrow things that do not belong to your life, they only serve to crush your life.
And therefore I believe that it does India no good to compete with Western civilization in its own field. But we shall be more than compensated if, in spite of the insults heaped upon us, we follow our own destiny.
There are lessons which impart information or train our minds for intellectual pursuits. These are simple and can be acquired and used with advantage. But there are others which affect our deeper nature and change our direction of life. Before we accept them and pay their value by selling our own inheritance, we must pause and think deeply. In man's history there come ages of fireworks which dazzle us by their force and movement. They laugh not only at our modest household lamps but also at the eternal stars. But let us not for that provocation be precipitate in our desire to dismiss our lamps. Let us patiently bear our present insult and realize that these fireworks have splendour but not permanence, because of the extreme explosiveness which is the cause of their power, and also of their exhaustion. They are spending a fatal quantity of energy and substance compared to their gain and production.
Anyhow our ideals have been evolved through our own history and even if we wished we could only make poor fireworks of them, because their materials are different from yours, as is also their moral purpose. If we cherish the desire of paying our all for buying a political nationality it will be as absurd as if Switzerland had staked her existence in her ambition to build up a navy powerful enough to compete with that of England. The mistake that we make is in thinking that man's channel of greatness is only one - the one which has made itself painfully evident for the time being by its depth of insolence.
We must know for certain that there is a future before us and that future is waiting for those who are rich in moral ideals and not in mere things. And it is the privilege of man to work for fruits that are beyond his immediate reach, and to adjust his life not in slavish conformity to the examples of some present success or even to his own prudent past, limited in its aspiration, but to an infinite future bearing in its heart the ideals of our highest expectations.
We must, however, know it is providential that the West has come to India. Yet, some one must show the East to the West, and convince the West that the East has her contribution to make in the history of civilization. India is no beggar of the West. And yet even though the West may think she is, I am not for thrusting off Western civilization and becoming segregated in our independence. Let us have a deep association. If Providence wants England to be the channel of that communication, of that deeper association, I am willing to accept it with all humility. I have great faith in human nature, and I think the West will find its true mission. I speak bitterly of Western civilization when I am conscious that it is betraying its trust and thwarting its own purpose.
The West must not make herself a curse to the world by using her power for her own selfish needs, but by teaching the ignorant and helping the weak, by saving herself from the worst danger that the strong is liable to incur by making the feeble to acquire power enough to resist her intrusion. And also she must not make her materialism to be the final thing, but must realize that she is doing a service in freeing the spiritual being from the tyranny of matter.
I am not against one nation in particular, but against the general idea of all nations. What is the Nation?
It is the aspect of a whole people as an organized power. This organization incessantly keeps up the insistence of the population on becoming strong and efficient. But this strenuous effort after strength and efficiency drains man's energy from his higher nature where he is self-sacrificing and creative.
For thereby man's power of sacrifice is diverted from his ultimate object, which is moral, to the maintenance of this organization, which is mechanical. Yet in this he feels all the satisfaction of moral exaltation and therefore becomes supremely dangerous to humanity. He feels relieved of the urging of his conscience when he can transfer his responsibility to this machine which is the creation of his intellect and not of his complete moral personality. By this device the people which loves freedom perpetuates slavery in a large portion of the world with the comfortable feeling of pride of having done its duty; men who are naturally just can be cruelly unjust both in their act and their thought, accompanied by a feeling that they are helping the world in receiving its deserts; men who are honest can blindly go on robbing others of their human rights for self-aggrandizement, all the while abusing the deprived for not deserving better treatment. We have seen in our everyday life even small organizations of business and profession produce callousness of feeling in men who are not naturally bad, and we can well imagine what a moral havoc it is causing in a world where whole peoples are furiously organizing themselves for gaining wealth and power.
Nationalism is a great menace. It is the particular thing which for years has been at the bottom of India's troubles. And inasmuch as we have been ruled and dominated by a nation that is strictly political in its attitude, we have tried to develop within ourselves, despite our inheritance from the past, a belief in our eventual political destiny.
There are different parties in India, with different ideals. Some are struggling for political independence. Others think that the time has not arrived for that, and yet believe that India should have the rights that the English colonies have. They wish to gain autonomy as far as possible.
In the beginning of our history of political agitation in India there was not that conflict between parties which there is to-day. In that time there was a party known as the Indian congress; it had no real programme. They had a few grievances for redress by the authorities. They wanted larger representation in the Council House, and more freedom in the Municipal government. They wanted scraps of things, but they had no constructive ideal. Therefore I was lacking in enthusiasm for their methods. It was my conviction that what India most needed was constructive work coming from within herself. In this work we must take all risks and go on doing our duties which by right are ours, though in the teeth of persecution; winning moral victory at every step, by our failure, and suffering. We must show those who are over us that we have the strength of moral power in ourselves, the power to suffer for truth. Where we have nothing to show, we only have to beg. It would be mischievous if the gifts we wish for were granted to us right now, and I have told my countrymen, time and time again, to combine for the work of creating opportunities to give vent to our spirit of self-sacrifice, and not for the purpose of begging.
The party, however, lost power because the people soon came to realize how futile was the half policy adopted by them. The party split, and there arrived the Extremists, who advocated independence of action, and discarded the begging method, - the easiest method of relieving one's mind from his responsibility towards his country. Their ideals were based on Western history. They had no sympathy with the special problems of India. They did not recognize the patent fact that there were causes in our social organization which made the Indian incapable of coping with the alien. What would we do if, for any reason, England was driven away? We should simply be victims for other nations. The same social weaknesses would prevail. The thing we, in India, have to think of is this - to remove those social customs and ideals which have generated a want of self-respect and a complete dependence on those above us,-a state of affairs which has been brought about entirely by the domination in India of the caste system, and the blind and lazy habit of relying upon the authority of traditions that are incongruous anachronisms in the present age.
Once again I draw your attention to the difficulties India has had to encounter and her struggle to overcome them. Her problem was the problem of the world in miniature. India is too vast in its area and too diverse in its races. It is many countries packed in one geographical receptacle. It is just the opposite of what Europe truly is, namely one country made into many. Thus Europe in its culture and growth has had the advantage of the strength of the many, as well as the strength of the one. India, on the contrary, being naturally many, yet adventitiously one has all along suffered from the looseness of its diversity and the feebleness of its unity. A true unity is like a round globe, it rolls on, carrying its burden easily; but diversity is a many-cornered thing which has to be dragged and pushed with all force. Be it said to the credit of India that this diversity was not her own creation; she has had to accept it as a fact from the beginning of her history. In America and Australia, Europe has simplified her problem by almost exterminating the original population. Even in the present age this spirit of extermination is making itself manifest, by inhospitably shutting out aliens, through those who themselves were aliens in the lands they now occupy. But India tolerated difference of races from the first, and that spirit of toleration has acted all through her history.
Her caste system is the outcome of this spirit of toleration. For India has all along been trying experiments in evolving a social unity within which all the different peoples could be held together, yet fully enjoying the freedom of maintaining their own differences. The tie has been as loose as possible, yet as close as the circumstances permitted. This has produced something like a United States of a social federation, whose common name is Hinduism.
India had felt that diversity of races there must be and should be whatever may be its drawback, and you can never coerce nature into your narrow limits of convenience without paying one day very dearly for it. In this India was right; but what she failed to realize was that in human beings differences are not like the physical barriers of mountains, fixed forever - they are fluid with life's flow, they are changing their courses and their shapes and volume.
Therefore in her caste regulations India recognized differences, but not the mutability which is the law of life. In trying to avoid collisions she set up boundaries of immovable walls, thus giving to her numerous races the negative benefit of peace and order but not the positive opportunity of expansion and movement. She accepted nature where it produces diversity, but ignored it where it uses that diversity for its world-game of infinite permutations and combinations. She treated life in all truth where it is manifold, but insulted it where it is ever moving. Therefore Life departed from her social system and in its place she is worshipping with all ceremony the magnificent cage of countless compartments that she has manufactured.
The same thing happened where she tried to ward off the collisions of trade interests. She associated different trades and professions with different castes. It had the effect of allaying for good the interminable jealousy and hatred of competition - the competition which breeds cruelty and makes the atmosphere thick with lies and deception. In this also India laid all her emphasis upon the law of heredity, ignoring the law of mutation, and thus gradually reduced arts into crafts and genius into skill.
However, what Western observers fail to discern is that in her caste system India in all seriousness accepted her responsibility to solve the race problem in such a manner as to avoid all friction, and yet to afford each race freedom within its boundaries. Let us admit in this India has not achieved a full measure of success. But this you must also concede, that the West, being more favourably situated as to homogeneity of races, has never given her attention to this problem, and whenever confronted with it she has tried to make it easy by ignoring it altogether. And this is the source of her anti-Asiatic agitations for depriving the aliens of their right to earn their honest living on these shores. In most of your colonies you only admit them on condition of their accepting the menial position of hewers of wood and drawers of water. Either you shut your doors against the aliens or reduce them into slavery. And this is your solution of the problem of race-conflict. Whatever may be its merits you will have to admit that it does not spring from the higher impulses of civilization, but from the lower passions of greed and hatred. You say this is human nature - and India also thought she knew human nature when she strongly barricaded her race distinctions by the fixed barriers of social gradations. But we have found out to our cost that human nature is not what it seems, but what it is in truth; which is in its infinite possibilities. And when we in our blindness insult humanity for its ragged appearance it sheds its disguise to disclose to us that we have insulted our God. The degradation which we cast upon others in our pride or self-interest degrades our own humanity - and this is the punishment which is most terrible because we do not detect it till it is too late.
Not only in your relation with aliens but also with the different sections of your own society you have not brought harmony of reconciliation. The spirit of conflict and competition is allowed the full freedom of its reckless career. And because its genesis is the greed of wealth and power it can never come to any other end but a violent death. In India the production of commodities was brought under the law of social adjustments. Its basis was cooperation having for its object the perfect satisfaction of social needs. But in the West it is guided by the impulse of competition whose end is the gain of wealth for individuals. But the individual is like the geometrical line; it is length without breadth. It has not got the depth to be able to hold anything permanently. Therefore its greed or gain can never come to finality. In its lengthening process of growth it can cross other lines and cause entanglements, but will ever go on missing the ideal of completeness in its thinness of isolation.
In all our physical appetites we recognize a limit. We know that to exceed that limit is to exceed the limit of health. But has this lust for wealth and power no bounds beyond which is death's dominion? In these national carnivals of materialism are not the Western peoples spending most of their vital energy in merely producing things and neglecting the creation of ideals? And can a civilization ignore the law of moral health and go on in its endless process of inflation by gorging upon material things? Man in his social ideals naturally tries to regulate his appetites, subordinating them to the higher purpose of his nature. But in the economic world our appetites follow no other restrictions but those of supply and demand which can be artificially fostered, affording individuals opportunities for indulgence in an endless feast of grossness. In India our social instincts imposed restrictions upon our appetites, - maybe it went to the extreme of repression, - but in the West, the spirit of the economic organization having no moral purpose goads the people into the perpetual pursuit of wealth; - but has this no wholesome limit?
The ideals that strive to take form in social institutions have two objects. One is to regulate our passions and appetites for harmonious development of man, and the other is to help him in cultivating disinterested love for his fellow-creatures. Therefore society is the expression of moral and spiritual aspirations of man which belong to his higher nature.
Our food is creative, it builds our body; but not so wine, which stimulates. Our social ideals create the human world, but when our mind is diverted from them to greed of power then in that state of intoxication we live in a world of abnormality where our strength is not health and our liberty is not freedom. Therefore political freedom does not give us freedom when our mind is not free. An automobile does not create freedom of movement, because it is a mere machine. When I myself am free I can use the automobile for the purpose of my freedom.
We must never forget in the present day that those people who have got their political freedom are not necessarily free, they are merely powerful. The passions which are unbridled in them are creating huge organizations of slavery in the disguise of freedom. Those who have made the gain of money their highest end are unconsciously selling their life and soul to rich persons or to the combinations that represent money. Those who are enamoured of their political power and gloat over their extension of dominion over foreign races gradually surrender their own freedom and humanity to the organizations necessary for holding other peoples in slavery. In the so-called free countries the majority of the people are not free, they are driven by the minority to a goal which is not even known to them. This becomes possible only because people do not acknowledge moral and spiritual freedom as their object. They create huge eddies with their passions and they feel dizzily inebriated with the mere velocity of their whirling movement, taking that to be freedom. But the doom which is waiting to overtake them is as certain as death - for man's truth is moral truth and his emancipation is in the spiritual life.
The general opinion of the majority of the present day nationalists in India is that we have come to a final completeness in our social and spiritual ideals, the task of the constructive work of society having been done several thousand years before we were born, and that now we are free to employ all our activities in the political direction. We never dream of blaming our social inadequacy as the origin of our present helplessness, for we have accepted as the creed of our nationalism that this social system has been perfected for all time to come by our ancestors who had the superhuman vision of all eternity, and supernatural power for making infinite provision for future ages. Therefore for all our miseries and shortcomings we hold responsible the historical surprises that burst upon us from outside. This is the reason why we think that our one task is to build a political miracle of freedom upon the quicksand of social slavery. In fact we want to dam up the true course of our own historical stream and only borrow power from the sources of other peoples' history.
Those of us in India who have come under the delusion that mere political freedom will make us free have accepted their lessons from the West as the gospel truth and lost their faith in humanity. We must remember whatever weakness we cherish in our society will become the source of danger in politics. The same inertia which leads us to our idolatry of dead forms in social institutions will create in our politics prison houses with immovable walls. The narrowness of sympathy which makes it possible for us to impose upon a considerable portion of humanity the galling yoke of inferiority will assert itself in our politics in creating tyranny of injustice.
When our nationalists talk about ideals, they forget that the basis of nationalism is wanting. The very people who are upholding these ideals are themselves the most conservative in their social practice. Nationalists say, for example, look at Switzerland, where, in spite of race differences, the peoples have solidified into a nation. Yet, remember that in Switzerland the races can mingle, they can intermarry, because they are of the same blood. In India there is no common birthright. And when we talk of Western Nationality we forget that the nations there do not have that physical repulsion, one for the other, that we have between different castes. Have we an instance in the whole world where a people who are not allowed to mingle their blood shed their blood for one another except by coercion or for mercenary purposes? And can we ever hope that these moral barriers against our race amalgamation will not stand in the way of our political unity?
Then again we must give full recognition to this fact that our social restrictions are still tyrannical, so much so as to make men cowards. If a man tells me he has heterodox ideas, but that he cannot follow them because he would be socially ostracized, I excuse him for having to live a life of untruth, in order to live at all. The social habit of mind which impels us to make the life of our fellow-beings a burden to them where they differ from us even in such a thing as their choice of food is sure to persist in our political organization and result in creating engines of coercion to crush every rational difference which, is the sign of life. And tyranny will only add to the inevitable lies and hypocrisy in our political life. Is the mere name of freedom so valuable that we should be willing to sacrifice for its sake our moral freedom?
The intemperance of our habits does not immediately show its effects when we are in the vigour of our youth. But it gradually consumes that vigour, and when the period of decline sets in then we have to settle accounts and pay off our debts, which leads us to insolvency. In the West you are still able to carry your head high though your humanity is suffering every moment from its dipsomania of organizing power. India also in the heyday of her youth could carry in her vital organs the dead weight of her social organizations stiffened to rigid perfection, but it has been fatal to her, and has produced a gradual paralysis of her living nature. And this is the reason why the educated community of India has become insensible of her social needs. They are taking the very immobility of our social structures as the sign of their perfection, - and because the healthy feeling of pain is dead in the limbs of our social organism they delude themselves into thinking that it needs no ministration. Therefore they think that all their energies need their only scope in the political field. It is like a man whose legs have become shrivelled and useless, trying to delude himself that these limbs have grown still because they have attained their ultimate salvation, and all that is wrong about him is the shortness of his sticks.
So much for the social and the political regeneration of India. Now we come to her industries, and I am very often asked whether there is in India any industrial regeneration since the advent of the British Government. It must be remembered that at the beginning of the British rule in India our industries were suppressed and since then we have not met with any real help or encouragement to enable us to make a stand against the monster commercial organizations of the world. The nations have decreed that we must remain purely an agricultural people, even forgetting the use of arms for all time to come. Thus India in being turned into so many predigested morsels of food ready to be swallowed at any moment by any nation which has even the most rudimentary set of teeth in its head.
India, therefore has very little outlet for her industrial originality. I personally do not believe in the unwieldy organizations of the present day. The very fact that they are ugly shows that they are in discordance with the whole creation. The vast powers of nature do not reveal their truth in hideousness, but in beauty. Beauty is the signature which the Creator stamps upon his works when he is satisfied with them. All our products that insolently ignore the laws of perfection and are unashamed in their display of ungainliness bear the perpetual weight of God's displeasure. So far as your commerce lacks the dignity of grace it is untrue. Beauty and her twin brother Truth require leisure, and self-control for their growth. But the greed of gain has no time or limit to its capaciousness. Its one object is to produce and consume.
It has neither pity for beautiful nature, nor for living human beings. It is ruthlessly ready without a moment's hesitation to crush beauty and life out of them, moulding them into money. It is this ugly vulgarity of commerce which brought upon it the censure of contempt in our earlier days when men had leisure to have an unclouded vision of perfection in humanity. Men in those times were rightly ashamed of the instinct of mere money-making. But in this scientific age money, by its very abnormal bulk, has won its throne. And when from its eminence of piled-up things it insults the higher instincts of man, banishing beauty and noble sentiments from its surroundings, we submit. For we in our meanness have accepted bribes from its hands and our imagination has grovelled in the dust before its immensity of flesh.
But its unwieldiness itself and its endless complexities are its true signs of failure. The swimmer who is an expert does not exhibit his muscular force by violent movements, but exhibits some power which is invisible and which shows itself in perfect grace and reposefulness. The true distinction of man from animals is in his power and worth which are inner and invisible. But the present-day commercial civilization of man is not only taking too much time and space but killing time and space. Its movements are violent, its noise is discordantly loud. It is carrying its own damnation because it is trampling into distortion the humanity upon which it stands. It is strenuously turning out money at the cost of happiness. Man is reducing himself to his minimum, in order to be able to make amplest room for his organizations. He is deriding his human sentiments into shame because they are apt to stand in the way of his machines.
In our mythology we have the legend that the man who performs penances for attaining immortality has to meet with temptations sent by Indra, the Lord of the immortals. If he is lured by them he is lost. The West has been striving for centuries after its goal of immortality. Indra has sent her the temptation to try her. It is the gorgeous temptation of wealth. She has accepted it and her civilization of humanity has lost its path in the wilderness of machinery.
This commercialism with its barbarity of ugly decorations is a terrible menace to all humanity. Because it is setting up the ideal of power over that of perfection. It is making the cult of self-seeking exult in its naked shamelessness. Our nerves are more delicate than our muscles. Things that are the most precious in us are helpless as babes when we take away from them the careful protection which they claim from us for their very preciousness. Therefore when the callous rudeness of power runs amuck in the broad-way of humanity it scares away by its grossness the ideals which we have cherished with the martyrdom of centuries.
The temptation which is fatal for the strong is still more so for the weak. And I do not welcome it in our Indian life even though it be sent by the lord of the Immortals. Let our life be simple in its outer aspect and rich in its inner gain. Let our civilization take its firm stand upon its basis of social cooperation and not upon that of economic exploitation and conflict. How to do it in the teeth of the drainage of our life-blood by the economic dragons is the task set before the thinkers of all oriental nations who have faith in the human soul. It is a sign of laziness and impotency to accept conditions imposed upon us by others who have other ideals than ours. We should actively try to adapt the world powers to guide our history to its own perfect end.
From the above you will know that I am not an economist. I am willing to acknowledge that there is a law of demand and supply and an infatuation of man for more things than are good for him. And yet I will persist in believing that there is such a thing as the harmony of completeness in humanity, where poverty does not take away his riches, where defeat may lead him to victory, death to immortality, and in the compensation of Eternal Justice those who are the last may yet have their insult transmuted into a golden triumph.
тЖз
Belated Central mode to intervene and it works like magic as Gorkha Janmukti Morcha lifts 'fast-unto-death' after 26 days! ржХрзЗржирзНржжрзНрж░рзЗрж░ ржЖржмрзЗржжржирзЗ рж╕рзБрж░ ржирж░ржо ржорзЛрж░рзНржЪрж╛рж░, ржоржЩрзНржЧрж▓ржмрж╛рж░ ржерзЗржХрзЗ ржпрзБржм ржорзЛрж░рзНржЪрж╛рж░ ржЖржорж░ржг ржЕржирж╢ржи ржкрзНрж░рждрзНржпрж╛рж╣рж╛рж░рзЗрж░ рж╕рж┐ржжрзНржзрж╛ржирзНржд Palash Biswas
Belated Central mode to intervene and it works like magic as Gorkha Janmukti Morcha lifts 'fast-unto-death' after 26 days!
ржХрзЗржирзНржжрзНрж░рзЗрж░ ржЖржмрзЗржжржирзЗ рж╕рзБрж░ ржирж░ржо ржорзЛрж░рзНржЪрж╛рж░, ржоржЩрзНржЧрж▓ржмрж╛рж░ ржерзЗржХрзЗ ржпрзБржм ржорзЛрж░рзНржЪрж╛рж░ ржЖржорж░ржг ржЕржирж╢ржи ржкрзНрж░рждрзНржпрж╛рж╣рж╛рж░рзЗрж░ рж╕рж┐ржжрзНржзрж╛ржирзНржд
Palash Biswas
We had been looking forward to Government of India to resolve Darjiling stad off as the people in Hills as well as plains have suffered for two months and the rainy season with calamities have set hell losing for the people in Bengal Hills without job,livelihood,ration and even water.Political parties and the governments involved failed to restore law and order in Burning Darjiling.It was lack of political will and honesty which worsened the situation with intensifed divide and rule,capture camaign.
Belated though,Govenment of India seems to be in intervening mode and it works like magic as Gorkha Janmukti Morcha lifts 'fast-unto-death' after 26 days,Welcome indeed.Answering to Union Home minister Rajnath Singh's appeal for peace and normalcy, the Gorkha Janmukti Morcha lifted the fast-unto-death that hit the 26-day mark on Monday. Rajnath Singh in a meeting with Gorkhaland Movement Coordination Committee (GMCC) leaders in Delhi, on Sunday, appealed for the lifting of the fast-unto-death programme and the indefinite bandh. The GMCC, a conglomeration of pro-Gorkhaland parties held a meeting in Delhi on Monday. They requested Bimal Gurung, president, GJM to lift the ongoing fast respecting the Union Home minister's appeal.
However,Gorkha Janmukti Morcha (GJM) principal advisor Swaraj Thapa on Sunday said the only way to resolve the ongoing protests in the north-eastern hilly area is the formation of a separate state of Gorkhaland, adding that the decision to end the hunger strike will be taken after discussing with other stakeholders.
Thapa's comments came after meeting Union Home Minister Rajnath Singh in which the latter asked the various stakeholders to find a way out to resolve the issue and, in the mean time, to lift the hunger strike.
Gorkha Janmukti Morcha (GJM) principal advisor Swaraj Thapa on Sunday said the only way to resolve the ongoing protests in the north-eastern hilly area is the formation of a separate state of Gorkhaland, adding that the decision to end the hunger strike will be taken after discussing with other stakeholders.
Thapa's comments came after meeting Union Home Minister Rajnath Singh in which the latter asked the various stakeholders to find a way out to resolve the issue and, in the mean time, to lift the hunger strike.
ABP Anand reports:
ржХрзЗржирзНржжрзНрж░рзЗрж░ ржЖржмрзЗржжржирзЗ рж╕рзБрж░ ржирж░ржо ржорзЛрж░рзНржЪрж╛рж░, ржоржЩрзНржЧрж▓ржмрж╛рж░ ржерзЗржХрзЗ ржпрзБржм ржорзЛрж░рзНржЪрж╛рж░ ржЖржорж░ржг ржЕржирж╢ржи ржкрзНрж░рждрзНржпрж╛рж╣рж╛рж░рзЗрж░ рж╕рж┐ржжрзНржзрж╛ржирзНржд
ржирзЯрж╛ржжрж┐рж▓рзНрж▓рж┐ ржУ ржжрж╛рж░рзНржЬрж┐рж▓рж┐ржВ: ржХрзЗржирзНржжрзНрж░рзАрзЯ рж╕рзНржмрж░рж╛рж╖рзНржЯрзНрж░ржоржирзНрждрзНрж░рзАрж░ ржЖрж╣рзНржмрж╛ржирзЗ ржХрж┐ржЫрзБржЯрж╛ рж╣рж▓рзЗржУ рж╕рзБрж░ ржирж░ржо ржХрж░рж▓ ржорзЛрж░рзНржЪрж╛ред ржоржЩрзНржЧрж▓ржмрж╛рж░ ржерзЗржХрзЗ рждрзБрж▓рзЗ ржирзЗржУрзЯрж╛ рж╣ржЪрзНржЫрзЗ ржпрзБржм ржорзЛрж░рзНржЪрж╛рж░ ржЕржирж╢ржиред рждржмрзЗ ржкрзГржержХ ржЧрзЛрж░рзНржЦрж╛рж▓рзНржпрж╛ржирзНржбрзЗрж░ ржжрж╛ржмрж┐рждрзЗ ржЕржирж┐рж░рзНржжрж┐рж╖рзНржЯржХрж╛рж▓рзЗрж░ ржмржирзНржз ржЪрж▓ржмрзЗред
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рж░ржмрж┐ржмрж╛рж░ рж░рж╛ржЬржирж╛рже рж╕рж┐ржВрж╣рж░ рж╕ржЩрзНржЧрзЗ ржмрзИржаржХрзЗрж░ ржкрж░ржУ ржорзЛрж░рзНржЪрж╛ ржирзЗрждрж╛рж░рж╛ ржжрж╛ржмрж┐ ржХрж░рзЗржи, ржкрзГржержХ ржЧрзЛрж░рзНржЦрж╛рж▓рзНржпрж╛ржирзНржб ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ ржЖрж▓рзЛржЪржирж╛ рж╣рзЯрзЗржЫрзЗред ржпржжрж┐ржУ, ржХрзЗржирзНржжрзНрж░рзАрзЯ рж╕рзНржмрж░рж╛рж╖рзНржЯрзНрж░ржоржирзНрждрзНрж░ржХ рж╕рзВрждрзНрж░рзЗ ржжрж╛ржмрж┐, ржкрж╛рж╣рж╛ржбрж╝ ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ ржЖрж▓рзЛржЪржирж╛рж░ ржЬржирзНржп рж░рж╛ржЬржирж╛рже рж╕рж┐ржВрж╣ ржирж┐ржЬрзЗ ржХрж╛ржЙржХрзЗ ржбрж╛ржХрзЗржиржирж┐ред ржорзЛрж░рзНржЪрж╛ ржирзЗрждрждрзНржм ржПржмржВ ржЧрзЛрж░рзНржЦрж╛рж▓рзНржпрж╛ржирзНржб рж╕ржоржирзНржмрзЯ ржХржорж┐ржЯрж┐ рждрж╛ржБрж░ ржЕрзНржпрж╛ржкрзЯрзЗржирзНржЯржорзЗржирзНржЯ ржЪрж╛рзЯред рждрж╛ржБржжрзЗрж░ рж╕ржорзЯ ржжрзЗржУрзЯрж╛ рж╣рзЯ рж╕рзМржЬржирзНржп рж╕рж╛ржХрзНрж╖рж╛рждрзЗрж░ ржЬржирзНржпред
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рж╕рзВрждрзНрж░рзЗрж░ ржжрж╛ржмрж┐, ржХрзЗржирзНржжрзНрж░рзЗрж░ ржПржЗ ржоржирзЛржнрж╛ржм ржжрзЗржЦрзЗржЗ ржорзЛрж░рзНржЪрж╛ ржЪрж╛ржкрзЗ ржкржбрж╝рзЗ ржпрж╛рзЯред рж╕рзЗржЗ ржХрж╛рж░ржгрзЗржЗ ржХрж┐ржЫрзБржЯрж╛ рж╕рзБрж░ ржирж░ржо ржХрж░рзЗ рждрж╛рж░рж╛ ржЕржирж╢ржи рждрзЛрж▓рж╛рж░ ржкржерзЗ рж╣рж╛ржБржЯрж▓ред
тЖз
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢-рдЪрд╛рд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреА рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдмреМрджреНрдзрдордп рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдЧреВрдВрдЬ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдирд┐рд░рдВрддрд░ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреА рдЖрдЧ рднреА рд╣реИред рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рд╕реБрджреВрд░ рдЕрддреАрдд рдХрд╛ рдмреМрджреНрдзрдХрд╛рд▓реАрди рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдпрд╣ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рд╕рдордп рдХрд╛ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рд╡реГрддреНрддрд╛рдВрдд рд╣реИ рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХрд╛ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢-рдЪрд╛рд░
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреА рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдмреМрджреНрдзрдордп рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдЧреВрдВрдЬ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдирд┐рд░рдВрддрд░ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреА рдЖрдЧ рднреА рд╣реИред
рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рд╕реБрджреВрд░ рдЕрддреАрдд рдХрд╛ рдмреМрджреНрдзрдХрд╛рд▓реАрди рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдпрд╣ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рд╕рдордп рдХрд╛ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рд╡реГрддреНрддрд╛рдВрдд рд╣реИ
рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдХреА рдЬрдореАрди рдкрд░ рдЖрдзрд╛рд░рд┐рдд рд╣реИредрд╡реЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдХреА рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реА рд╕рдорд╕реНрдпрд╛ рдЕрд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп ┬ардХреЗ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рднреЗрджрднрд╛рд╡ рдХреЛ рдХрдорд╛рдирддреЗ рд░рд╣реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕реАрд▓рд┐рдП рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдзрд░реНрдо рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдзрд░реНрдо рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдЬреАрд╡рди рджрд░реНрд╢рди рднреА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рджрд░реНрд╢рди рд╣реИредрд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреА рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдмреМрджреНрдзрдордп рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдЧреВрдВрдЬ рд╣реИ рддреЛ рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдирд┐рд░рдВрддрд░ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреА рдЖрдЧ рднреА рд╣реИред
рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдмреЛрдз рдФрд░ рд╡реИрдЬреНрдЮрд╛рдирд┐рдХ рджреГрд╖реНрдЯрд┐ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рджрд░реНрд╢ рдХреА рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реА рд╡рд┐рд╢реЗрд╖рддрд╛рдПрдВ рд╣реИредрдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдХреНрд░рд┐рдпрд╛рд╡рд╛рджреА,рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рдЧрд╛рдореА,рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдЬреНрдЮрд╛рдирд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рдирд╕реНрд▓реА рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрдж рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рдХреЗ рд╡реЗ рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реЗ рд╢рддреНрд░реБ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡рд╡рд╛рджреА рд╡рд┐рджреНрд╡рддрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рднреА рдЙрдирдХреА рдкреНрд░рдЧрддрд┐рд╢реАрд▓рддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдзрд░реНрдордирд┐рд░рдкреЗрдХреНрд╖рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЕрдЦрдВрдб рдкрд╛рдЦрдВрдб рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╡рдЬреВрдж рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рджреБрд╢реНрдорди рдирдВрдмрд░ рд╡рди рд╣реИред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рджрд╡рд┐рд░реЛрдзреА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХрд╛ рдореВрд▓ рд╕реНрд╡рд░ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдп рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдХреА рдЬреАрд╡рдирдпрдВрддреНрд░рдгрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЧреМрд░рддрд▓рдм рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдпрд╣ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рдХреГрддрд┐ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░рдХреГрддрд┐ рд╕реЗ рдЬреБрдбрд╝реА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╡реГрддреНрддрд╛рдВрдд рд╣реИ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рддреЛ рдпрд╣ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдФрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рддрдорд╛рдо рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рди рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕реА рдЬрдирд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ рдХреА рдирд┐рд░рдВрддрд░рддрд╛ рднреА рд╣реИред
рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ ┬ард╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рд╡рд┐рд╖рдорддрд╛,рдЕрд╕рдорддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЙрдирдХреА рд░рдЪрдирд╛рдзрд░реНрдорд┐рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдореВрд▓ рд╕реНрд╡рд░ рдХреЛ рд╣реА рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдФрд░ рд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдкрд░ рдХрд╛рдмрд┐рдЬ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд╡рддрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдиреЗ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдйрдЬрд░рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬ рдХрд░рдХреЗ рдЙрд╕ рдкрд░ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рднреА рд╕реНрддрд░ рдкрд░ ┬ардХреЛрдИ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдЙрд╕реА рддрд░рд╣ рдирд╣реА рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рджреА рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдХрд┐ рд╕рддреНрддрд╛ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдиреЗ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ ┬ардХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдз рд░рдВрдЧрднреЗрджреА рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдХреЛ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдирдЬрд░рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬ рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдХреА рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдХреЛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрд╡рд┐рдзрд╛рди рдХрд╛ рдкрд░реНрдпрд╛рдп рдмрдирд╛ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░рд╡рд╛рдж рдкрд░ рд▓рд┐рдЦреЗ рдЖрд▓реЗрдЦ рдХреА рд╢реБрд░реБрдЖрдд рдореЗрдВ рд╣реА рд╡реЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВрдГ
OUR REAL PROBLEM in India is not political. It is social. This is a condition not only prevailing in India, but among all nations. I do not believe in an exclusive political interest. Politics in the West have dominated Western ideals, and we in India are trying to imitate you. We have to remember that in Europe, where peoples had their racial unity from the beginning, and where natural resources were insufficient for the inhabitants, the civilization has naturally taken the character of political and commercial aggressiveness. For on the one hand they had no internal complications, and on the other they had to deal with neighbours who were strong and rapacious. To have perfect combination among themselves and a watchful attitude of animosity against others was taken as the solution of their problems. In former days they organized and plundered, in the present age the same spirit continues - and they organize and exploit the whole world.
But from the earliest beginnings of history, India has had her own problem constantly before her - it is the race problem. Each nation must be conscious of its mission and we, in India, must realize that we cut a poor figure when we are trying to be political, simply because we have not yet been finally able to accomplish what was set before us by our providence.
рд▒реВрд╕ рд╕реЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦреЗ рдкрддреНрд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рд╕реЛрд╡рд┐рдпрдд рд╕рдВрдШ рдореЗрдВ рдХреГрд╖рд┐ рд╕реБрдзрд╛рд░ рдФрд░ рд╕рд╛рдореБрджрд╛рдпрд┐рдХ рдХреГрд╖рд┐ рдкрд░ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рд╣реИредрдпреЗ рдкрддреНрд░ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдиреВрджрд┐рдд рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рд╡рд░реНрдзрд╛ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╡рд┐рджреНрдпрд╛рд▓рдп рдХреА рдИ рдкрддреНрд░рд┐рдХрд╛ рдкрд░ рдЙрдкрд▓рдмреНрдз рд╣реИред
рдЗрди рдкрддреНрд░реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рдЙрд╕реА рддрд░рд╣ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╢рдмреНрдж рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рдпреЛрдЧ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдмреБрджреНрдзрдХрдерд╛ рдХреЗрдВрджреНрд░рд┐рдд рдЧреАрддрд┐ рдирд╛рдЯреНрдп рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╢рдмреНрдж рдХрд╛ рдкреНрд░рдпреЛрдЧ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реБрдЖред рдЗрд╕рд▓рд┐рдП рдЗрд╕ рдЕрдиреБрд╡рд╛рдж рд╕реЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдХреЗ рджрд▓рд┐рдд рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдкрд╛рдардХреЛрдВ рдХреА рдХреЛрдИ рдзрд╛рд░рдгрд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдмрдиреА рд╣реЛрдЧреАред
рд╕реЛрд╡рд┐рдпрдд рд╕рдВрдШ рдореЗрдВ рд╕рд╛рдореБрджрд╛рдпрд┐рдХ рдХреГрд╖рд┐ рдХрд╛ рдмреНрдпреМрд░рд╛ рджреЗрддреЗ рд╣реБрдП рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдореЗрд╣рдирддрдХрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐ рдХрд╛ рдмреЗрд╣рдж рджрд░реНрджрдирд╛рдХ рдЪрд┐рддреНрд░рдг рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ, рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХреА рдореВрд▓ рд╕рдВрд╡реЗрджрдирд╛ рддрдХ рдкрд╣реБрдВрдЪрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд▓рд┐рдЦреЗ рдореМрд▓рд┐рдХ рдкрддреНрд░реЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдкрд╛рда рдЬрд░реБрд░реА рд╣реИред
рд╢реБрд░реБрдЖрдд рдореЗрдВ рд╣реА рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рдЕрдЫреВрдд рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдореЗрд╣рдирддрдХрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреА рд╣рд╛рд▓рдд рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдиреЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рд╣реИрдГ
ржЪрж┐рж░ржХрж╛рж▓ржЗ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖рзЗрж░ рж╕ржнрзНржпрждрж╛рзЯ ржПржХржжрж▓ ржЕржЦрзНржпрж╛ржд рж▓рзЛржХ ржерж╛ржХрзЗ, рждрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ржЗ рж╕ржВржЦрзНржпрж╛ ржмрзЗрж╢рж┐, рждрж╛рж░рж╛ржЗ ржмрж╛рж╣ржи; рждрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржорж╛ржирзБрж╖ рж╣ржмрж╛рж░ рж╕ржорзЯ ржирзЗржЗ; ржжрзЗрж╢рзЗрж░ рж╕ржорзНржкржжрзЗрж░ ржЙржЪрзНржЫрж┐рж╖рзНржЯрзЗ рждрж╛рж░рж╛ ржкрж╛рж▓рж┐рждред рж╕ржм ржЪрзЗрзЯрзЗ ржХржо ржЦрзЗрзЯрзЗ, ржХржо ржкрж░рзЗ, ржХржо рж╢рж┐ржЦрзЗ, ржмрж╛ржХрж┐ рж╕ржХрж▓рзЗрж░ ржкрж░рж┐ржЪрж░рзНржпрж╛ ржХрж░рзЗ; рж╕ржХрж▓рзЗрж░ ржЪрзЗрзЯрзЗ ржмрзЗрж╢рж┐ рждрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржкрж░рж┐рж╢рзНрж░ржо, рж╕ржХрж▓рзЗрж░ ржЪрзЗрзЯрзЗ ржмрзЗрж╢рж┐ рждрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржЕрж╕ржорзНржорж╛ржиред ржХржерж╛рзЯ ржХржерж╛рзЯ рждрж╛рж░рж╛ рж░рзЛржЧрзЗ ржорж░рзЗ, ржЙржкрзЛрж╕рзЗ ржорж░рзЗ, ржЙржкрж░ржУрзЯрж╛рж▓рж╛ржжрзЗрж░ рж▓рж╛ржерж┐ ржЭрж╛ржБржЯрж╛ ржЦрзЗрзЯрзЗ ржорж░рзЗтАФржЬрзАржмржиржпрж╛рждрзНрж░рж╛рж░ ржЬржирзНржп ржпржд-ржХрж┐ржЫрзБ рж╕рзБржпрзЛржЧ рж╕рзБржмрж┐ржзрзЗ рж╕ржм-ржХрж┐ржЫрзБрж░ ржерзЗржХрзЗржЗ рждрж╛рж░рж╛ ржмржЮрзНржЪрж┐рждред рждрж╛рж░рж╛ рж╕ржнрзНржпрждрж╛рж░ ржкрж┐рж▓рж╕рзБржЬ, ржорж╛ржерж╛рзЯ ржкрзНрж░ржжрзАржк ржирж┐рзЯрзЗ ржЦрж╛рзЬрж╛ ржжрж╛ржБрзЬрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржерж╛ржХрзЗтАФржЙржкрж░рзЗрж░ рж╕ржмрж╛ржЗ ржЖрж▓рзЛ ржкрж╛рзЯ, рждрж╛ржжрзЗрж░ ржЧрж╛ ржжрж┐рзЯрзЗ рждрзЗрж▓ ржЧрзЬрж┐рзЯрзЗ ржкрзЬрзЗред
рд╕рддрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдиреАрдЪреЗ рдЬрд┐рдВрджрдЧреА рдЧреБрдЬрд░ рдмрд╕рд░ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐ рдХреБрд▓реАрди рд╕рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡ рдХреЗ рд╕рдорд╛рдВрддрд░ рд╕реЛрд╡рд┐рдпрдд рд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдореЗрд╣рдирддрдХрд╢реЛрдВ рдХреА рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рд╕реАрдзреЗ рддреМрд░ рдкрд░ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХрд╛ рдЙрд▓реНрд▓реЗрдЦ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЬреВрдарди рдкрд░ рдЬреАрдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЗ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдЖрд░реНрдерд┐рдХ рд╕реНрдерд┐рддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ,рд╡рдВрдЪрдирд╛ рдФрд░ рдЙрддреНрдкреАрдбрд╝рдирд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╡реГрддрд╛рдВрдд рд╡рд╣рд╛рдВ рд╣реИ,рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдЙрдирдХреА рдорд╢рд╣реВрд░ рдХрд╡рд┐рддрд╛ рджреЛ рдмреАрдШрд╛ рдЬрдореАрди рдмреЗрджрдЦрд▓реА рдХреА рдХрдерд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рдЕрд░реНрдерд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдХрд╛ рдореМрд▓рд┐рдХ рдЪрд░рд┐рддреНрд░ рд╣реИ-рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпреЛрдВ,рдмрд╣реБрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЬрд▓ рдЬрдВрдЧрд▓ рдЬрдореАрди рдХреЗ рдЕрдкрд╣рд░рдг рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдХрд╛рд╕ рдХреА рдХрдерд╛ред
рдЗрд╕реА рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдмреЗрд╣рдж рдорд╣рддреНрд╡рдкреВрд░реНрдг рд╣реИ.рдЬрд╣рд╛рдВ рд╕реАрдзреЗ рддреМрд░ рдкрд░ рднрд╛рд░рддреАрдп рд╕рдорд╛рдЬ рдХреА рд╡рд░реНрдгрд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реБрджреНрдз рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдЙрд╕реА рддрд░рд╣ рдкреНрд░рд╣рд╛рд░ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ,рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреЗ рдореВрд▓рдирд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕реА рдмрд╣реБрдЬрди рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреЗ рддрдорд╛рдо рдиреЗрддрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░рдХ рдорд╣рд╛рддреНрдорд╛ рдЬреНрдпреЛрддрд┐рдмрд╛ рдлреВрд▓реЗ,рдирд╛рд░рд╛рдпрдг рд╕реНрд╡рд╛рдореА,рдмрд╛рдмрд╛рд╕рд╛рд╣реЗрдм рдЕрдВрдмреЗрдбрдХрд░ рдФрд░ рдкреЗрд░рд┐рдпрд╛рд░ред
рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдХреА рдХрдерд╛ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рдкреНрд░рд╛рдЪреАрди рдмреМрджреНрдз рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рд╕реЗ рдЙрдард╛рдпрд╛ рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рдЗрд╕рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдЫреВрдд рдХрдиреНрдпрд╛ рдкреНрд░рдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рд╣рд╛рдереЛрдВ рдкреЗрдпрдЬрд▓ рд╕реНрд╡реАрдХрд╛рд░ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдЬреЛ рдкреНрд░реЗрдордХрдерд╛ рдФрд░ рд╡рд┐рд░рд╣ рд╡реГрддрд╛рдВрдд рд╣реИ рдФрд░ рднрд┐рдХреНрд╖реБ рдЖрдирдВрдж рдХреЛ рдЬрд╛рджреВ рд╕реЗ рдЕрдкрдиреА рддрд░рдл рдЦреАрдВрдЪрдиреЗ рдХрд╛ рдЙрдкрдХреНрд░рдо рд╣реИ,рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ рд╕реМрдВрджрд░реНрдп рд╢рд╛рд╕реНрддреНрд░ рдкрд░ рдЦреВрдм рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рд╣реЛрддреА рд░рд╣реА рд╣реИред
рдкреНрд░рдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░реЗрдордЬрд╛рд▓ рд╕реЗ рдореБрдХреНрдд рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЖрдирдВрдж рдЧреМрддрдо рдмреБрджреНрдз рд╕реЗ рдкреНрд░рд╛рд░реНрдердирд╛ рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдорд╣рд╛рддреНрдорд╛ рдмреБрджреНрдз рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рдореБрдХреНрдд рдХрд░рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВредрдЗрд╕рдореЗ рд╕рднреА рдордиреБрд╖реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рдорд╛рдирддрд╛ рдФрд░ рдЖрддреНрдорд╕рдореНрдорд╛рди рдХреА рд╕реНрд╡реАрдХреГрддрд┐ рдФрд░ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рд╕реЗ рдореБрдХреНрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдмреБрджреНрдзрдореН рд╢рд░рдгрдореН рдЧрдЪреНрдЫрд╛рдорд┐ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХреЛ рд╕рд┐рд░реЗ рд╕реЗ рдирдЬрд░рдЕрдВрджрд╛рдЬ рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдордиреБрд╕реНрдореГрддрд┐ рд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдХрднреА рд▓рд╛рдЧреВ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдереАред
рдмреНрд░рд╛рд╣реНрдордгрдзрд░реНрдо рдХреЗ рднреВрдЧреЛрд▓ рд╕реЗ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдФрд░ рд╕рдореВрдЪрд╛ рдкреВрд░реНрд╡реЛрддреНрддрд░ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдмрд╛рд╣рд░ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдкрд╛рд▓ рд╡рдВрд╢ рдХреЗ рдкрддрди рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рд░рд╛рдЬрд╛ рдмрд▓реНрд▓рд╛рд▓ рд╕реЗрди рдХреЗ рд╢рд╛рд╕рдирдХрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд░рд╛рдЬрдХреАрдп рд╕рдВрд░рдХреНрд╖рдг рдореЗрдВ ┬ардЖрд░реНрдпрд╛рд╡рд░реНрдд рд╕реЗ рдмреНрд░рд╛рд╣реНрдордгрдзрд░реНрдо рдЖрдпрд╛рддрд┐рдд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛,рдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рдЪреИрддрдиреНрдп рдорд╣рд╛рдкреНрд░рднреБ рдХреЗ рд╡реИрд╖реНрдгрд╡ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рд╡реИрдзрддрд╛ рдорд┐рд▓реАред
рдЕрдиреНрдпрдерд╛ рдмрд▓реНрд▓рд╛рд▓ рд╕реЗрди рдиреЗ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рдмрд╣реБрд╕рдВрдЦреНрдп рдмреМрджреНрдзреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╡реНрдпрд╛рдкрдХ рдкреИрдорд╛рдиреЗ рдкрд░ рдзрд░реНрдорд╛рдВрддрд░рдг рдЬрдмрд░рди рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдФрд░ рдмреНрд░рд╛рд╣реНрдордгрдзрд░реНрдо рдХреЗ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреБрддреНрд╡ рдХреА рдЬрд╛рддрд┐ рд╡реНрдпрд╡рд╕реНрдерд╛ рдХреЛ рдЕрд╕реНрд╡реАрдХрд╛рд░ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рднрд╛рд░реА рдкреИрдорд╛рдиреЗ рдкрд░ рдмреМрджреНрдзреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдЗрд╕реНрд▓рд╛рдо рдЕрдкрдирд╛ рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ред
рдЬрд╛рд╣рд┐рд░ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рд╕реБрджреВрд░ рдЕрддреАрдд рдХрд╛ рдмреМрджреНрдзрдХрд╛рд▓реАрди рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╣реИ рдпрд╣ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░рд╕рдордп рдХрд╛ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рд╡реГрддреНрддрд╛рдВрдд рд╣реИ,рдЬрд┐рд╕реЗ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреЗ рд╡рд░реНрдЪрд╕реНрд╡рд╡рд╛рджреА рд╕реМрдВрджрд░реНрдпрд╢рд╛рд╕реНрддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реБрджреНрдзрддрд╛рд╡рд╛рджреА рдХреБрд▓реАрдирддрдВрддреНрд░ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рд╕реЗ рдмрд╛рд╣рд░ рд░рдЦрдиреЗ рдХреА рд░рд╛рдЬрдиреАрддрд┐ рдкрд░ рдЪрд░реНрдЪрд╛ рд▓рдЧрднрдЧ рдЕрд╕рдВрднрд╡ рд╣реИ,рдХреНрдпреЛрдВрдХрд┐ рдмрд╣реБрдЬрдиреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпреЛрдВ рдХреЛ ┬ард░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╕рд╛рд╣рд┐рддреНрдп рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрд╛рдирдХрд╛рд░реА рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд░рд╛рдмрд░ рд╣реИрдВ рдФрд░ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рд▓рд╛рдордмрдВрдж рдХрд░ рджрд┐рдпрд╛ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╣реИред
рдИрд╕реНрдЯ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрдВрдкрдиреА рдХреЗ рд╢рд╛рд╕рдирдХрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓,рдмрд┐рд╣рд╛рд░,рдЭрд╛рд░рдЦрдВрдб,рдЫрддреНрддреАрд╕рдЧрдврд╝,рдЕрд╕рдо,рдкреВрд░реНрд╡реА рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓,рдкреВрд░реНрд╡реЛрддреНрддрд░рд╕реЗ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рд╕рдореВрдЪреЗ рдордзреНрдп рднрд╛рд░рдд ,рдорд╣рд╛рд░рд╛рд╖реНрдЯреНрд░ рдФрд░ рдЖрдВрдзреНрд░ рддрдХ рд╢реВрджреНрд░реЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд░рд╛рдЬ рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдХрд┐рд╕рд╛рдиреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЖрджрд┐рд╡рд╛рд╕рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдиреЗ рдкрд▓рд╛рд╢реА рдХреА рд▓рдбрд╝рд╛рдИ рдХреЗ рддреБрд░рдВрдд рдмрд╛рдж рдПрдХ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рдПрдХ рдЬрдирд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╛ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рд░рдЦрд╛ рдЬреЛ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рд╕реНрд╡рддрдВрддреНрд░рддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рдж рднреА рдЬрд▓ рдЬрдВрдЧрд▓ рдЬрдореАрди рдХрд╛ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗрд╡рд╛рд░ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рд╣реИред
рдЗрд╕реА рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╕рд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХрд╛ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдмреЗрд╣рдж рдорд╣рддреНрд╡рдкреВрд░реНрдг рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рд╕реЗрдирд╡рдВрд╢ рдХреЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрдХрд╛рдЬ рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рд╕рдВрдЧрдард┐рдд рддреМрд░ рдкрд░ рдЪрд▓ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд╕рдХрд╛ рдФрд░ рд╡реИрд╖реНрдгрд╡ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреА рдЙрджрд╛рд░рддрд╛ рдХреА рд╡рдЬрд╣ рд╕реЗ рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд░реЛрдз рдХреА рдЬрдореАрди рдмрдиреА рдирд╣реАрдВредрд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЗрд╕реНрд▓рд╛рдореА рд╢рд╛рд╕рди рдХреЗ рджреМрд░рд╛рди рдЬрдирдкрджреЛрдВ рдХреА рд▓реЛрдХрд╕рдВрд╕реНрдХреГрддрд┐ рдХреЗ рдорд╛рдзреНрдпрдо рд╕реЗ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдорд╣рд╛рд╕рдВрдЧреНрд░рд╛рдо рдирд┐рд░рдВрддрд░ рдЬрд╛рд░реА рд░рд╣рд╛ рд╣реИред
рдИрд╕реНрдЯ рдЗрдВрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрдВрдкрдиреА рдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд░реБрджреНрдз рдЪреБрдЖрдбрд╝ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣,рд╕рдВрдерд╛рд▓ рдФрд░ рдореБрдВрдбрд╛ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣,рднреАрд▓ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣,рдиреАрд▓ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣,рд╕рдВрдиреНрдпрд╛рд╕реА рд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рдЬрд▓ рдЬрдВрдЧрд▓ рдЬрдореАрди рдХреЗ рд╣рдХрд╣рдХреВрдХ рдХреЗ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдереЗ,рдЬреЛ рд╕рд╡рд░реНрдг рд╢рд╛рд╕рдХреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЬрдореАрдВрджрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдереЗред
рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рдирд╛рде рдиреЗ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдХреА рдХрдерд╛ рдмреМрджреНрдз рдХрдерд╛ рд╕реЗ рд▓реА,рд▓реЗрдХрд┐рди рдЙрд▓реНрд▓реЗрдЦрдиреАрдп рдпрд╣ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдирд┐рд╖реЗрдз рд╕реЗ рдкрд╣рд▓реЗ рддрдХ рдЕрдЫреВрддреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рд╣реА рдХрд╣рд╛ рдЬрд╛рддрд╛ рдерд╛ рдФрд░ рдЕрд╕реНрдкреГрд╢реНрдпрддрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдРрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕рд┐рдХ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ рд╣реА рд╣реБрдЖредрдиреАрд▓ рд╡рд┐рджреНрд░реЛрд╣ рдХрд╛ рдиреЗрддреГреНрддрд╡ рдХрд░рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдмреНрд░рд╛рд╣реНрдордгрдзрд░реНрдо рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдорддреБрдЖ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреЗ рдкреНрд░рд╡рд░реНрддрдХ рд╣рд░рд┐рдЪрд╛рдВрдж рдард╛рдХреБрд░ рднреА рдереЗ,рдЬреЛ рднреВрдорд┐ рд╕реБрдзрд╛рд░ рдХреА рдорд╛рдВрдЧ рд▓реЗрдХрд░ рдЙрдиреАрд╕рд╡реАрдВ рд╕рджреА рд╕реЗ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдЪрд▓рд╛ рд░рд╣реЗ рдереЗред
рд╡реАрдХрд┐рдкреАрдбрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХреЗ рдореБрддрд╛рдмрд┐рдХрдГ
Namasudra, also known as Namassej or Namassut, is an Indian avarna community originally from certain regions of Bengal, India. The community was earlier known as Chandala or Chandal,[1] a term usually considered as a slur.[2] They were traditionally engaged in cultivation and as boatmen.[3] They lived outside the four-tier ritual varna system and thus were outcastes[4][5]
Joya Chatterji mentions that "in the 1870s, Chandals of Bakarganj and Faridpur boycotted caste Hindus "when they refused to accept an invitation to dine from a Chandal headman; and henceforth they "battled continuously to improve their ritual position" and later claimed the "more respectable title of 'Namasudra' and Brahmin status".[6] However, Niharranjan Ray, a historian, believed that they have a closer relation with north Indian Brahmins, saying "they are of the same line as the Brahmans of north India; indeed there is a closer relation between the north Indian Brahmans and the Bengali Namahsudras than between the north Indian Brahmans and the Bengali Brahmans, Kayasthas and Vaidyas."[7]
From the late 1930s, attempts by the Namasudras of Bengal Presidency, British India, to improve the way in which society perceived them received support from the bhadralok (an influential class). The bhadralok, to increase their own power in Bengal, sought to enlarge their political base by bringing the Namasudras into a united Hindu political community.[6]
Sekhar Bandyopadhyay mentions that the Dalit of Bengal became involved in the Partition related movement, and the "two most important communities, who dominated dalit politics in the province, were the Namasudras and the Rajbanshis".[1]Bandyopadhyay also mentions that the Namasudras, earlier known as the Chandals, who mostly inhabited the districts of East Bengal, were forced to migrate to West Bengal during the Partition of India in 1947.[1]
рдкреНрд░рд╕рд┐рджреНрдз рджрд▓рд┐рдд рдЪрд┐рдВрддрдХ рдПрдХреЗ рд╡рд┐рд╢реНрд╡рд╛рд╕ рдиреЗ рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рд╡рд┐рд╕реНрддрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рд╣реИ,рдЬреЛ рдлрд╛рд░рд╡рд░реНрдб рдкреНрд░реЗрд╕ рдореЗрдВ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреА рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдиреВрджрд┐рдд рдФрд░ рдкреНрд░рдХрд╛рд╢рд┐рдд рд╣реИред
рдЪрдВрдбрд╛рд▓рд┐рдХрд╛ рдХреЗ рд░рд╡реАрдВрджреНрд░ рд╡рд┐рдорд░реНрд╢ рдХреА рд╕рдордЭ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдЙрд╕реА рдЖрд▓реЗрдЦ рдХрд╛ рдПрдХ рдЕрдВрд╢ рдкреЗрд╢ рд╣реИрдГ
рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓реА рдмреМрджреНрдзрд┐рдХ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ, рдкрд╢реНрдЪрд┐рдореА рд╢рд┐рдХреНрд╖рд╛ рдкреНрд░рд╛рдкреНрдд рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдФрд░ рдЙрджрд╛рд░рд╡рд╛рджреА рдорд╛рдирд╡реАрдп рдореВрд▓реНрдпреЛрдВ, рд╡рд┐рдЬреНрдЮрд╛рди рдХреЗ рд╕рд┐рджреНрдзрд╛рдВрддреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдЖрдзреБрдирд┐рдХ рдЬреНрдЮрд╛рди рд╕реЗ рдкрд░рд┐рдЪрд┐рдд рд╣реЛрдиреЗ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╡рдЬреВрдж, рдЬрд╛рддрд┐ рдХреА рдмреЗрдбрд┐реЯреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЬрдХрдбрд╝рд╛ рд╣реБрдЖ рдерд╛ред 20рд╡реАрдВ рд╕рджреА рдХреЗ рдкреВрд░реНрд╡рд╛рджреНрдз рдХрд╛ рдПрдХ рджрд╕реНрддрд╛рд╡реЗрдЬ рдпрд╣ рдмрддрд▓рд╛рддрд╛ рд╣реИ рдХрд┐ рдмреНрд░рд╛рд╣реНрдордг рдФрд░ рдЕрдиреНрдп рдКрдБрдЪреА рдЬрд╛рддрд┐рдпрд╛рдВ, рдкреВрд░реНрд╡реА рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ (рдЕрдм рдмрд╛рдВрдЧреНрд▓рд╛рджреЗрд╢) рдХреА рд╕рдмрд╕реЗ рдмрдбрд╝реА рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рдЬрд╛рддрд┐ рдЪрд╛рдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдХреНрдпрд╛ рд╕реЛрдЪрддреЗ рдереЗ:"(1) рдЪрд╛рдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рдЧрд╛рдВрд╡реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд╣рд░ рд░рд╣рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ; (2) рдХреБрддреНрддреЗ рдФрд░ рдЧрдзреЗ рдЙрдирдХреА рд╕рдВрдкрддреНрддрд┐ рд╣реИрдВ; (3) рд╡реЗ рд╢рд╡реЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЙрддрд╛рд░реЗ рдЧрдП рдЪрд┐рдердбрд╝реЗ рдкрд╣рдирддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ; (4) рд╡реЗ рдЖрд╡рд╛рд░рд╛ рд╣реЛрддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ; (5) рдЙрдирдХрд╛ рдореБрдЦреНрдп рдкреЗрд╢рд╛ рд╢рд╡реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЬрд▓рд╛рдирд╛ рд╣реИ; (6) рд╡реЗ рд░рд╛рдЬрд╛ рдХреЗ рдЖрджреЗрд╢ рдкрд░ рдЕрдкрд░рд╛рдзрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдлрд╛рдВрд╕реА рдкрд░ рдЪрдврд╝рд╛рддреЗ рд╣реИрдВ; рд╡ (7) рд╡реЗ рдЕрдЫреВрдд рд╣реИрдВред"рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рдПрдХ рд▓реЗрдЦ рдореЗрдВ, рдмрдВрдХрд┐рдордЪрдВрджреНрд░ рдЪрдЯрд░реНрдЬреА рдиреЗ рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рдЪрд╛рдВрдбрд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдмрд╛рд░реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдордиреБ рдХреЗ рджрдХрд┐рдпрд╛рдиреВрд╕реА рд╡рд┐рдЪрд╛рд░реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЙрдЪрд┐рдд рдард╣рд░рд╛рдпрд╛ рдерд╛ред рдЪрд╛рдВрдбрд╛рд▓, рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдиреНрдпрд╛рдп рдЖрдВрджреЛрд▓рди рдХреЗ рдЕрдЧреБрд╡рд╛ рдереЗред
рдкрд╣рд▓реА 'рдЖрдо рд╣рдбрд╝рддрд╛рд▓'
рдКрдБрдЪреА рдЬрд╛рддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рджрдордирдЪрдХреНрд░ рдФрд░ рд╢реЛрд╖рдг рдиреЗ рдЪрд╛рдВрдбрд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╕рддрд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рдЦрд┐рд▓рд╛рдл рдЖрд╡рд╛рдЬрд╝ рдЙрдард╛рдиреЗ рдХреЗ рд▓рд┐рдП рдкреНрд░реЗрд░рд┐рдд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ред рдлрд░реАрджрдкреБрд░ рдХреЗ рдЬрд┐рд▓рд╛ рдордЬрд┐рд╕реНрдЯреНрд░реЗрдЯ рд╕реАрдП рдХреИрд▓реА рдиреЗ 8 рдЕрдкреНрд░реИрд▓, 1873 рдХреЛ рдврд╛рдХрд╛ рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрднрд╛рдЧреАрдп рдЖрдпреБрдХреНрдд рдХреЛ рдЪрд┐рдЯреНрдареА рд▓рд┐рдЦрдХрд░ рд╕реВрдЪрд┐рдд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐ рдЙрд╕ рд╕рд╛рд▓ рдЪрд╛рдВрдбрд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдиреЗ "рдЬрд┐рд▓реЗ рдореЗрдВ рдЖрдо рд╣рдбрд╝рддрд╛рд▓ рдХреА рдФрд░ рдпрд╣ рдирд┐рд░реНрдгрдп рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐ рд╡реЗ рдЙрдЪреНрдЪ рд╡рд░реНрдЧ рдХреЗ рдХрд┐рд╕реА рднреА рд╕рджрд╕реНрдп рдХреА рдХрд┐рд╕реА рднреА рд╣реИрд╕рд┐рдпрдд рд╕реЗ рд╕реЗрд╡рд╛ рдирд╣реАрдВ рдХрд░реЗрдВрдЧреЗ, рдЬрдм рддрдХ рдХрд┐ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╣рд┐рдВрджреВ рдЬрд╛рддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЙрд╕рд╕реЗ рдмреЗрд╣рддрд░ рд╕реНрдерд╛рди рдкреНрд░рд╛рдкреНрдд рди рд╣реЛ рдЬрд╛рдП, рдЬреЛ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ рд╡рд░реНрддрдорд╛рди рдореЗрдВ рдкреНрд░рд╛рдкреНрдд рд╣реИред"
рдЧреБрд░реБрдЪрдВрдж рдард╛рдХреБрд░
рдПрдХ рд╕рдордХрд╛рд▓реАрди рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕рд╡рд┐рдж рдиреЗ рдЗрд╕ рд╣рдбрд╝рддрд╛рд▓ рдХреЛ рдКрдБрдЪреА рдЬрд╛рддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рд╕рд╛рдорд╛рдЬрд┐рдХ рдмрд╣рд┐рд╖реНрдХрд╛рд░ рдирд┐рд░реВрдкрд┐рдд рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ред рдЪрд╛рдВрдбрд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдиреЗ рддрдп рдХрд┐рдпрд╛ рдХрд┐ рд╡реЗ рди рддреЛ рдКрдБрдЪреА рдЬрд╛рддрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд▓реЛрдЧреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЬрд╝рдореАрдиреЗрдВ рдЬреЛрддреЗрдВрдЧреЗ рдФрд░ рдирд╛ рд╣реА рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдШрд░реЛрдВ рдХреА рдЫрддреЛрдВ рдХреЛ рдлреБрдВрд╕ рд╕реЗ рдврдХреЗрдВрдЧреЗред рдпрд╣ рд╣рдбрд╝рддрд╛рд▓ рдЪрд╛рд░ рд╕реЗ рдкрд╛рдВрдЪ рдорд╣реАрдиреЗ рдЪрд▓реАред рдпрд╣ рднрд╛рд░рдд рдХреА рдкрд╣рд▓реА рдРрд╕реА рдЖрдо рд╣рдбрд╝рддрд╛рд▓ рдереА, рдЬрд┐рд╕рдХреЗ рд╕рдВрдмрдВрдз рдореЗрдВ рдЖрдзрд┐рдХрд╛рд░рд┐рдХ рдЕрднрд┐рд▓реЗрдЦ рдЙрдкрд▓рдмреНрдз рд╣реИрдВред рдЕрдиреНрдп рдЬрд┐рд▓реЛрдВ рдЬреИрд╕реЗ рдмрд╛рд░реАрд╕рд╛рд▓, рдврд╛рдХрд╛, рдЬреИрд╕реЛрд░, рдореИрдордирд╕рд┐рдВрд╣ рд╡ рд╕рд┐рд▓рд╣рдЯ рдХреЗ рдЪрд╛рдВрдбрд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдиреЗ рднреА рдлрд░реАрджрдкреБрд░ рдХреЗ рдЕрдкрдиреЗ рд╕рд╛рдерд┐рдпреЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рд╣рд╛рде рдорд┐рд▓рд╛ рд▓рд┐рдпрд╛ред рд╕рди 1871 рдХреА рдЬрдирдЧрдгрдирд╛ рдХреЗ рдЕрдиреБрд╕рд╛рд░, рдмрдВрдЧрд╛рд▓ рдореЗрдВ 16,20,545 рдЪрд╛рдВрдбрд╛рд▓ рдереЗред рдЗрди рдкрд╛рдВрдЪ рд╡рд┐рд╢рд╛рд▓ рдЬрд┐рд▓реЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╣рдбрд╝рддрд╛рд▓реА рдЪрд╛рдВрдбрд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рдВрдЦреНрдпрд╛ 11,91,204 (рдХреБрд▓ рдЖрдмрд╛рджреА рдХрд╛ 74 рдкреНрд░рддрд┐рд╢рдд) рдереАред рднрджреНрд░рд▓реЛрдХ (рдмреНрд░рд╛рд╣реНрдордгреЛрдВ, рдмреИрджреНрдпреЛрдВ рдФрд░ рдХрд╛рдпрд╕реНрдереЛрдВ рдХрд╛ рдЬрд╛рддрд┐ рд╕рд┐рдВрдбреАрдХреЗрдЯ) рдХреЛ рдирд┐рд╢рд╛рдирд╛ рдмрдирд╛рдиреЗ рд╡рд╛рд▓реА рдЗрд╕ рд╡рд┐рд╢рд╛рд▓ рд╣рдбрд╝рддрд╛рд▓ рдХреА рд╕рдлрд▓рддрд╛, рдирд┐рд░рдХреНрд╖рд░ рдЪрд╛рдВрдбрд╛рд▓реЛрдВ рдХреА рд╕рдВрдЧрдардирд╛рддреНрдордХ рдФрд░ рдкрд░рд╕реНрдкрд░ рдПрдХрддрд╛ рдХрд╛рдпрдо рдХрд░рдиреЗ рдХреА рдХреНрд╖рдорддрд╛ рдХреА рджреНрдпреЛрддрдХ рдереАред
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