
Bengali poet, philosopher and polymath (1861–1941)
Missing: 3, 4. Present digits repeat to show how many times they occur.
Nine completes the cycle, and the tradition treats it as the number that has already been round once: broad, forgiving, oriented toward something larger than a single life. It is read as the number of the reformer and the artist. Its tension is the mirror of 6 — where 6 over-gives to the people in front of it, 9 is described as giving to humanity in general while the people in front of it wait.
A complete line in the grid.
The 7-8-9 column complete. Read as drive that has both the wish and the machinery — the traditional marker of someone who converts intention into position.
The 1-5-9 diagonal complete. Read as determination that survives the middle of a project, when the initial energy has gone and the result is not yet visible.
A complete line in the grid.
A complete line in the grid.
Read as difficulty getting the inner picture out — the thought is complete, the expression lags. Often described in people whose written voice is far stronger than their spoken one.
Read as impatience with structure and maintenance. Associated with starting well and leaving the scaffolding to someone else.
Moolank 6 comes from the day of the month alone; Bhagyank 9 from the whole date. They differ, which is the ordinary case — the two numbers answer different questions.
Venus. Art, pleasure, relationship. Read as attraction and aesthetic sense.
Bhagyank uses the same arithmetic as the Western life path, so the two will always agree. That is not two traditions confirming each other — it is one calculation under two names.
As early as 1902 (Bengali Samvat 1309) Rabindranath Tagore wrote that there was no Indian in the history of India written by foreigners: "as if Indians do not exist; only those who have fought and killed among themselves are real ... we are not parasites of India; through hundreds of centuries we have put down tens of thousands of roots in the heart of this land, but unfortunately we have to read a type of history which makes our children forget exactly this. It appears that in (the history of) India we are nobodies; only those who have come from outside matter in (the history of this) land.
It was indeed a great day not only for the Sikhs but also for the whole of India when Guru Govinda, defying the age-long conventions of the Hindu society, made his followers one, by breaking down all barriers of caste and thereby made them free to inherit the true blessings of a self-respecting manhood. Sikhism has a brave message to the people and it has a noble record.
When such imagination and sympathy are essential to write India's history, We cannot depend on others. There is no objection to receiving, help from others when it comes to the collection of facts, but to weave these facts into a whole and make them alive we have to use our own strength. If Indians write the history of India there is some chance of partisanship or bias, but it is contempt and lack of sympathy which distort historical writing far more than bias or partisanship: Besides, while writing history, foreigners get tempted to impose the ideals of one country upon another; that also cannot be considered a blessing: Whether it will be possible or not, we shall rescue OUT own history from the hands of others: we shall look at India with out free eyes—that joyous time has arrived
Our real ties are with the Bharatavarsha that lies outside our textbooks. If the history of this tie for a substantially long period gets lost, our soul loses its anchorage. After all, we are no weeds or parasitical plants in India. Over many hundreds of years, it is our roots, hundreds and thousands of them, that have occupied the very heart of Bharatavarsha. But, unfortunately, we are obliged to learn a brand of history that makes our children forget this very fact. It appears as if we are nobody in India; as if those who came from outside alone matter.
I cannot but bring to your mind those days when the whole of Eastern Asia, from Burma to Japan was united with India in the closest ties of friendship...
The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.
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