Other editions of book The Home and the World

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Audie-nominated narrator Deepti Gupta shares a classic love story set among the fires of India's struggle for independence. Bimala is torn between her commitment to her husband, Nikhil, who holds Western beliefs, and the radical Sandip, a leader of the Swadeshi movement under the British Raj. Bimala finds herself asking what freedom truly means for herself and for her country.Author, poet, and Nobel laureate, Sir Rabindranath Tagore sets the story on a Bengali noble's estate in 1908. It is both a love story and a novel of political awakening. Bimala's attempts to resolve the irreconcilable -- pressures of home and the world -- reflect the conflict in India itself. The tragic outcome foreshadows the unrest that accompanied Partition in 1947.

Set on a Bengali noble's estate in 1908, this is both a love story and a novel of political awakening. The central character, Bimala, is torn between the duties owed to her husband, Nikhil, and the demands made on her by the radical leader, Sandip. Her attempts to resolve the irreconciliable pressures of the home and world reflect the conflict in India itself, and the tragic outcome foreshadows the unrest that accompanied Partition in 1947. This edition includes an introduction by Anita Desai.

This book (hardcover) is part of the TREDITION CLASSICS. It contains classical literature works from over two thousand years. Most of these titles have been out of print and off the bookstore shelves for decades. The book series is intended to preserve the cultural legacy and to promote the timeless works of classical literature. Readers of a TREDITION CLASSICS book support the mission to save many of the amazing works of world literature from oblivion. With this series, tredition intends to make thousands of international literature classics available in printed format again - worldwide.

Rabindranath Tagore (1861–1941), also known by the sobriquet Gurudev, was a Bengali poet, Brahmo religionist, visual artist, playwright, novelist, and composer whose works reshaped Bengali literature and music in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He became Asia’s first Nobel laureate when he won the 1913 Nobel Prize in Literature.The Home and the World is a 1916 novel, set in the estate of the rich Bengali noble Nikhil. He lives happily with his beautiful wife Bimala until the appearance of his friend and radical revolutionist, Sandip. iBoo ClassicsThis and some of other iBoo Classics are collected from the Guardiand’s, the Telegraph’s and BBC’s “the 100 greatest novels of all time” list. iBoo Press House uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work. We preserve the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. All titles are designed with a nice cover, quality paper and a large font that’s easy to read.

MOTHER, today there comes back to mind the vermilion mark [1] at the parting of yourhair, the __sari__ [2] which you used to wear, with its wide red border, and those wonderfuleyes of yours, full of depth and peace. They came at the start of my life's journey, like thefirst streak of dawn, giving me golden provision to carry me on my way.The sky which gives light is blue, and my mother's face was dark, but she had the radianceof holiness, and her beauty would put to shame all the vanity of the beautiful.Everyone says that I resemble my mother. In my childhood I used to resent this. It made meangry with my mirror. I thought that it was God's unfairness which was wrapped round mylimbs-that my dark features were not my due, but had come to me by somemisunderstanding. All that remained for me to ask of my God in reparation was, that Imight grow up to be a model of what woman should be, as one reads it in some epic poem.When the proposal came for my marriage, an astrologer was sent, who consulted my palmand said, "This girl has good signs. She will become an ideal wife."And all the women who heard it said: "No wonder, for she resembles her mother."I was married into a Rajah's house. When I was a child, I was quite familiar with thedescription of the Prince of the fairy story. But my husband's face was not of a kind thatone's imagination would place in fairyland. It was dark, even as mine was. The feeling ofshrinking, which I had about my own lack of physical beauty, was lifted a little; at the sametime a touch of regret was left lingering in my heart.

MOTHER, today there comes back to mind the vermilion mark [1] at the parting of yourhair, the __sari__ [2] which you used to wear, with its wide red border, and those wonderfuleyes of yours, full of depth and peace. They came at the start of my life's journey, like thefirst streak of dawn, giving me golden provision to carry me on my way.The sky which gives light is blue, and my mother's face was dark, but she had the radianceof holiness, and her beauty would put to shame all the vanity of the beautiful.Everyone says that I resemble my mother. In my childhood I used to resent this. It made meangry with my mirror. I thought that it was God's unfairness which was wrapped round mylimbs-that my dark features were not my due, but had come to me by somemisunderstanding. All that remained for me to ask of my God in reparation was, that Imight grow up to be a model of what woman should be, as one reads it in some epic poem.When the proposal came for my marriage, an astrologer was sent, who consulted my palmand said, "This girl has good signs. She will become an ideal wife."And all the women who heard it said: "No wonder, for she resembles her mother."I was married into a Rajah's house. When I was a child, I was quite familiar with thedescription of the Prince of the fairy story. But my husband's face was not of a kind thatone's imagination would place in fairyland. It was dark, even as mine was. The feeling ofshrinking, which I had about my own lack of physical beauty, was lifted a little; at the sametime a touch of regret was left lingering in my heart.