The gift Tagore leaves us is not perfection. It takes a lot of courage to even ask the question in the first place. Therefore, let us take up the work he left unfinished, under the same banyan tree he sat under, with the same soft breeze he felt, as the soft afternoon light turns gold when the sun starts to set. Was it his time? Yes. Would he be different today? We will never know. But us, asking, is our tribute.