In this book, Rabindranath’s writings on art in general, on his own art, on artists he encountered and  his ideas of aesthetics have been put together, albeit selectively. These have been gleaned from various sources; his essays in books and periodicals, book-reviews, but chiefly from his vast correspondences with the luminaries of his times. Also, most of these are in Bangla. These have been translated into English, keeping in mind the non-Bengali reader, who would otherwise be deprived of the wealth of his ideas. His letters hold within them nuggets of wisdom and pure beauty. No one should be deprived of these.

In a letter to Nandalal Bose, he writes about his late flush of creative exuberance-- his forays into the world of art: ‘You know about the bamboo tree that after a very long time at an unexpected moment blossoms forth it’s last flowers and ends its play of life—it is the same with me, I shall spread out my store of colours on the western horizon and leave with the setting sun. All these years my bamboo tree produced only bamboos; today the joy-touch of the spring-goddess of art has coveredthe tree with blossoms. For a long time it remained hidden, now within a narrow space of time it emerges quickly. And then, that’s it, it ends.’