Shivpreet Singh
Shivpreet Singh
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As part of the Namdev 750 project I am trying to rewrite the Story of Dhruv. I have added stories that I have found elsewhere on the internet at the bottom of this blogpost. I have also included poems from Guru Arjan, Bhagat Kabir, Bhagat Namdev and Bhai Gurdas at the end of this post for reference. 

The Story of Dhruv

Legend goes that long long ago, there was a King by the name of Uttanapada who had two wives. The first wife was Suniti who had one son called Dhruva, and the second wife called Suniti who had a son called Uttama. Suruchi who was very pretty and very dear to the king  while Suniti, and by extension Dhruva, were not much cared about. 

Then came an incident that changed Dhruva's life when he was five years old. That fateful day, when the king was sitting in his court, Dhruva saw Uttama, Suruchi’s son run to sit on the lap of the king, their father. He too wanted to be on his father's lap and ran towards him.  When the king took up Dhruva on his lap, a jealous Suruchi severely abused the king and had him thrown out of the royal court. 

Dhruva went away heart-broken to his mother and asked why his father did not love him. She explained that the true father of all truly loved him and that he was the one who had the power to give or take any space. Dhruva wanted to meet this true father and his mother told him that he had to pray, not realizing that he would be serious and actually leave home in search of the true father.  He kept looking for his father in the forest and seeing his devotion, the sage Narada came down from the heavens to guide him.  

Dhruva was devoted and determined. He did what Narad had taught him and was rewarded.  Apparently God came riding on the back of a giant bird, Garuda, and told Dhruva that he was pleased with his worship and he could have anything he wanted.  But by this time, Dhruva had lost all worldly attachment and told God that he didn't want anything apart from God himself.  God granted him a region in the sky which is called Dhruva-loka, and he still lives there as the Dhruva taara (called the North Star or Pole Star).  

From a mere human, Dhruva became divine, in an instant.  From having no place or love, through his determination he secured an eternal abode called Dhruva loka in which he continues to shine as the Dhruva taara, the north star. The story shows how the divinity of true and lasting love can be attained through unconditional surrender. 

Story as found on sikhsangat.com:


Dhruva's was the son of king Uttanapada. Literally "Dhruva" means the one who has become "immortal". The story is briefly narrated as follows. His father had two queens, named Suniti and Suruchi. Suruchi was much more dear to the king. But Suniti, the mother of Dhruva, was not his favorite. Once upon a time, the king was patting the son of Suruchi, Uttama, placing him on his lap. Dhruva, who was playing nearby, was also trying to get on his father's lap.

But because of king's favoritism towards his queen Suruchi, the king did not very much welcome Dhruva. While Dhruva was trying to get on the lap of his father, Suruchi, his stepmother, became very envious of him and said: "my dear child, you do not deserve to sit on the throne or on the lap of the King. Surely you are also the son of the King, but because you did not take your birth from my womb, you are not qualified to sit on your father's lap."

Furthermore, though sarcastically, she told Dhruva if he desired to rise to the throne of the King, then he had to undergo severe austerities to satisfy the Divine, and then, when he is favored by the Divine because of such worship, he would have to take his next birth from her womb.

Having been struck by the strong words of his stepmother, and upon seeing his father silent and not protesting, Dhruva immediately left the palace in anger and went to his mother. He was five years old then.

He said to her 'I am a prince but they shout at me like a servant boy. Why don't they respect your son Mata jee...I thought you were a queen not a slave?' She replied 'because of my destiny i am a queen, but because i never meditated on God's name I have no more respect than a slave.'

Dhruva was furious that they didn't respect his mother. Dhruva's mother advised her son not to wish for anything inauspicious for others; for anyone who inflicts pains upon others suffers himself from that pain.

He told his father the King, 'I am leaving this kingdom to go and meditate on God's Name, one day when I have enough spiritual power I will reclaim the throne.' His father insisted he stayed, but the other queen was quite happy to let him go. He was determined and left into the wilderness.

Travelling to the jungle were all holy people went to meditate he was met by a Saint the Saint spoke to the little boy and was surprised to hear a child saying he was going to the jungle to meditate. So he tested the boy to see if he was serious. He said to Dhruva, 'you know it's dark and dangerous in the jungle, wont you get scared of the wild animals?' Dhruva replied, 'I dont care if its dark and dangerous, I'm going to meditate on God's Name.' The Saint tested him again, 'But you're the son of a king and used to being fed the finest food, will be able to live on berries and roots in the jungle?' Dhruva was determined and replied, 'I'm going to meditate on god's name even if there's no food.' The saint was truly impressed by Dhruva's determination and whispered the secret name of God into Dhruva's ear.

Indirectly, the harsh words of Dhruva's stepmother turned out to be benediction for him; for because of the influence of his stepmother's words, he became a great Spiritual Being (Gurmukh). To achieve the desired results of attaining his father's kingdom, Dhruva's mother motivated him to engage himself in the worship (Bhakti) of the One Divine Being and nobody else. Determined to execute devotion, Dhruva left the palace.

He had met his true guru and for the next few years he meditated long and hard. When he was a teenager he felt he had enough spiritual power to overtake the king and claim the kingdom. He had been meditating on God's name with this sole target for all these years and now his ego had got the better of him. On his way to the palace, his True Guru met him again and laughingly said were are you going, Dhruva replied 'I'm going to fight the kings army and reclaim the throne.' His True Guru laughed and said how are you going to beat an army?. Dhruva replied, 'I have meditated on God's name for years and years and the spiritual power I have is immense.' His True Guru handed him his staff and said 'Before you break the Kings Army, just break my measly staff.' Dhruva tried with all his might but failed miserably to even break a 3 foot stick! He fell at his True Guru's feet and begged for forgiveness, his ego had broken.

He returned to the jungle were he continued to meditate. He followed the Divine Teachings with faith, love and dedication. Later when he actually became Self-realized, he turned completely satisfied within and forgot all about his father's kingdom.

Instead, he said, "My dear Lord, I was searching for some pebbles, but instead I have found valuable Jewel. I no longer care for my father's kingdom. Now I am fully satisfied."

His feelings of insult and honor (duality or Doojaa Bhaav) banished, and he attained Transcendental Bliss. Thus Dhruva, for example, first became a devotee with the motive of getting a better kingdom than that of his father, but as he progressed in devotion he became selfless and contented.


Story of Dhruv as written by Harjinder Singh Khalsa


Sri Dhru Bhagat Ji

''Paach Barukh Ko Anaath Dhru Baarik Har Simaruth Amar Attaarae."

'The five year old orphan boy Dhru, by meditating in remembrance upon the Lord,
became stationary and permanent.'
(Guru Arjan Dev Ji; GGSJ: 999)

In the Age of Satyug, Bhagat Dhru was born. He was born in the house of Raja Utanpadh. Dhru's mother's name was Mata Suniti, who was a very religious and virtuous woman.

Raja Utanpadh had two wives. The youngest one was very beautiful and the other one was a very jealous woman, who had a very strong hold on Raja Utanpadh. Within the palace, she had a young son, who stayed with the Raja. The Raja was very loving towards this child and sat the child upon his laps and played with him.

One day, Dhru went to his father and sat upon his laps. On seeing Dhru in the laps of Raja Utanpadh, and the connection between both father and son caused Surichi's mind to fill with great anger and envy. Surichi had cunningly planned to make her son the next Raja of the palace. In great anger she exclaimed, "Get away, you are not allowed to sit in the Raja's laps! Move this instance and don't return to this palace!"

Seeing the anger in Surichi's eyes, Raja Utanpadh remained silent. Having been forcefully removed from his father's laps, Dhru was deeply distressed. He sat there thinking, why he was not allowed to sit in his father's laps and what did he do that was so wrong. Dhru returned to his mother, crying and in deep pain. His mother, Suniti picked up Dhru and held him against her bosom and asked, "What is the matter with you, why are you crying, has someone hit you?"

"O mother, I was sitting on my father's laps and my step-mother shouted at me and told me that I was not allowed to sit on my father's laps", Dhru said in great anguish.

"O my child, do not worry. You should have not sat in your father's laps, as you have no right to do so", Suniti explained to her son.

Dhru then asked his mother, "O mother, explain me this to me then, are you a wife or a mistress. I don't understand!"

"O my child, of course I'm his wife! But..!" Suniti paused and remained quiet.

"Then why can't I sit in my own father's laps?"

"It is because you have not meditated on the Lord".

"Then tell me O mother what I should do so that I can obtain eternal bliss and not be shouted at again?"

Dhru's mother explained that the only way he would achieve eternal bliss would be by meditating upon the Lord's name.

"Fine mother I will go and mediate," Dhru spoke.

"O my child! Now is not the time to meditate, as you are far too young. What will I do when you are gone? You are all I have", cried Suniti.

Night had fallen and Dhru had not slept. All he could see in front of his eyes was his step-mother's anger, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from his father. He looked over and saw that his mother was asleep. On seeing her asleep, Dhru decided that he will leave home and find the Lord. Dhru made his way towards the jungles barefooted. On hearing the frightening sounds of the jungle, Dhru prayed to God, "Bhagwan! I am coming to you. I do not know Your name…I do not know what to call You-but I am coming to You."

Dhru sat on the ground and rested. The rays of the sun brightened the whole jungle, the flowers blossomed and the birds sang sweetly. The jungle was a place of tranquillity and peace. Dhru looked forward and saw a blue river. He saw birds sitting at the river bank, drinking the water. He made his way to the river bank and took a sip from the flowing blue river. He sat up and said "Where could the Lord be?" He then cried aloud, "Bhagwan! Bhagwan! I have come." On continually shouting the Lord's name, Narad Muni, a Rishi came. Dhru said, "Are you Bhagwan?"

"No, dear child, I am not Bhagwan- Bhagwan is faraway. You cannot go there," Narad explained.

Dhru: "Why can't I go?"

BhagatDhru (41K)Narad: Your age is far too small. You are the son of Raja Utanpadh. Tapoban (forests) is far. Along the way are many jungles. The tigers and lions will eat you up. You will not be able to survive, for there is no food to eat. Come with me, I will take you back to your father. He will grant you with half his kingdom."

Dhru began to laugh, "Half the kingdom! I am going to meet Bhagwan. If I am given a chance to meet Bhagwan then I will most definitely obtain half a kingdom. Look, I do not know who you are or where you have come from, but if you continually stop me from meeting with the Lord then you are my enemy! Leave me alone! If something eats me, then let it be!"

Narad was amazed at this innocent child and was moved by his words. "Okay fine. Your thoughts are wise and correct. Meditating upon the Lord's name is the greatest achievement in life. Remember this mantra: 'Om Nameh Bhagvateh Vaasdevey' and then close your eyes and chant 'Keshav Kalesh Hari', no pain or obstacles will come near you. All your wishes will be fulfilled."

On giving this mantra, Narad disappeared. Dhru sat upon a rock and began to meditate. On the other side, Suniti awoke. She looked around for Dhru, but he was nowhere to be found. She began to panic and cried, "Dhru! Dhru! Where are you?" Suniti searched the whole palace, but Dhru was nowhere to be found. It seemed as though a shadow of darkness had overcome Suniti's world.

Raja Utanpadh heard the news and made his way to see Suniti, but his second wife, Surichi stopped him, "Don't go! He'll be found. He has deceived us all. He has hidden from us and just wants to get your attention." Raja Utanpadh paused for a moment and looked up and saw Narad. Narad said to Raja Utanpadh, "O Raja! What is the matter? You seemed surprised. What has your younger wife done now?"

On hearing Narad's words, Raja Utanpadh felt ashamed. "O Muni Ji! My older wife, Suniti's son, Dhru is missing. Yesterday, Surichi shouted at him and told him to get lost. Now we have no idea what has happened to Dhru."

"Hari Narayan! O Raja…your son is not lost. He has become a hermit and is meditating in the jungles. You have hurt that poor soul's heart. He has lost attachment in your kingdom and riches. You have not loved your son. You have ill-treated Suniti. Anyone who commits such an act will suffer for life. Dhru will meditate upon 'Keshav Kalesh' and obtain the kingdom.

"Please tell me, is it really true that my son has gone to Tapoban? Will he be meditating? O my son will be hungry, how will he cope with the heat and coldness?" Raja Utanpadh began to question Narad. "Narad go and bring my son back. I will present him with half my kingdom. Tell him he will obtain peace within this palace. Let him meditate but don't let him starve."

Narad: "O Raja! He will not return. He will most definitely continue with his meditation". On saying this, Narad disappeared and went to see Suniti. He offered his condolences and said, "O Suniti! Do not worry for the offspring you brought into this world has become successful. Remain happy, your son will become a saint."

DhruVishnu (66K)Raja Utanpadh went to the jungles to find Dhru but he was unsuccessful. He came back disappointed. On seeing his father leave, Dhru felt more confident and continued with his meditation. Dhru's mediation was so powerful, even Indar made many attempts to break his mediation but was unsuccessful. Indar sent the demon 'Maya May' to break Dhru's mediation by shaking the earth, making it rain and causing tornados but Indar saw that there was nothing that he could do and he became increasingly afraid.

Indra returned and went to see Vishnu. Vishnu said, "O Indar. It is Dhru's wish to meditate; therefore it is our duty to let him. His wish is not to take over your kingdom. His concentration is on his father's kingdom. He will gain this kingdom and will reach a very high level in his meditation."

On hearing this Indar returned to his kingdom. Vishnu altered his appearance and went to Tapoban to see Dhru. He changed his appearance in accordance to what Dhru was thinking whilst he was meditating. Vishnu broke Dhru's meditation and stood in front of him. Dhru was ecstatic. Vishnu uttered these words to Dhru, "Through this strenuous meditation your mind has attained bliss. You will attain rule over your father's kingdom for 36,000 years. Your name will remain on this earth when you die." On giving these words to Dhru, Vishnu vanished.

Narad Muni went and told Raja Utanpadh all of this. There was great jubilation and excitement in the palace. People began to congratulate Suniti. Raja Utanpadh presented Dhru with the entire kingdom and he ruled the entire kingdom for 36,000 years, as Vishnu granted.

Key References to Dhruv in Gurbani and Sikh Literature 


Guru Arjan's Paach Barukh Ko Anaath Dhru Baarik 


'The five year old orphan boy Dhru, by meditating in remembrance upon the Lord,
became stationary and permanent.' Guru Arjan Dev Ji; GGSJ: 999 -


Maaroo, Fifth Mehl:

ਪਾਂਚ ਬਰਖ ਕੋ ਅਨਾਥੁ ਧ੍ਰੂ ਬਾਰਿਕੁ ਹਰਿ ਸਿਮਰਤ ਅਮਰ ਅਟਾਰੇ ॥
पांच बरख को अनाथु ध्रू बारिकु हरि सिमरत अमर अटारे ॥
Pāʼncẖ barakẖ ko anāth ḏẖarū bārik har simraṯ amar atāre.
The five year old orphan boy Dhroo, by meditating in remembrance on the Lord, became stationary and permanent.

ਪੁਤ੍ਰ ਹੇਤਿ ਨਾਰਾਇਣੁ ਕਹਿਓ ਜਮਕੰਕਰ ਮਾਰਿ ਬਿਦਾਰੇ ॥੧॥
पुत्र हेति नाराइणु कहिओ जमकंकर मारि बिदारे ॥१॥
Puṯar heṯ nārā▫iṇ kahi▫o jamkankar mār biḏāre. ||1||
For the sake of his son, Ajaamal called out, "O Lord, Naaraayan", who struck down and killed the Messenger of Death. ||1||

ਮੇਰੇ ਠਾਕੁਰ ਕੇਤੇ ਅਗਨਤ ਉਧਾਰੇ ॥
मेरे ठाकुर केते अगनत उधारे ॥
Mere ṯẖākur keṯe agnaṯ uḏẖāre.
My Lord and Master has saved many, countless beings.

ਮੋਹਿ ਦੀਨ ਅਲਪ ਮਤਿ ਨਿਰਗੁਣ ਪਰਿਓ ਸਰਣਿ ਦੁਆਰੇ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
मोहि दीन अलप मति निरगुण परिओ सरणि दुआरे ॥१॥ रहाउ ॥
Mohi ḏīn alap maṯ nirguṇ pari▫o saraṇ ḏu▫āre. ||1|| rahā▫o.
I am meek, with little or no understanding, and unworthy; I seek protection at the Lord's Door. ||1||Pause||

ਬਾਲਮੀਕੁ ਸੁਪਚਾਰੋ ਤਰਿਓ ਬਧਿਕ ਤਰੇ ਬਿਚਾਰੇ ॥
बालमीकु सुपचारो तरिओ बधिक तरे बिचारे ॥
Bālmīk supcẖāro ṯari▫o baḏẖik ṯare bicẖāre.
Baalmeek the outcaste was saved, and the poor hunter was saved as well.

ਏਕ ਨਿਮਖ ਮਨ ਮਾਹਿ ਅਰਾਧਿਓ ਗਜਪਤਿ ਪਾਰਿ ਉਤਾਰੇ ॥੨॥
एक निमख मन माहि अराधिओ गजपति पारि उतारे ॥२॥
Ėk nimakẖ man māhi arāḏẖi▫o gajpaṯ pār uṯāre. ||2||
The elephant remembered the Lord in his mind for an instant, and so was carried across. ||2||

ਕੀਨੀ ਰਖਿਆ ਭਗਤ ਪ੍ਰਹਿਲਾਦੈ ਹਰਨਾਖਸ ਨਖਹਿ ਬਿਦਾਰੇ ॥
कीनी रखिआ भगत प्रहिलादै हरनाखस नखहि बिदारे ॥
Kīnī rakẖi▫ā bẖagaṯ parhilāḏai harnākẖas nakẖėh biḏāre.
He saved His devotee Prahlaad, and tore Harnaakhash with his nails.

ਬਿਦਰੁ ਦਾਸੀ ਸੁਤੁ ਭਇਓ ਪੁਨੀਤਾ ਸਗਲੇ ਕੁਲ ਉਜਾਰੇ ॥੩॥
बिदरु दासी सुतु भइओ पुनीता सगले कुल उजारे ॥३॥
Biḏar ḏāsī suṯ bẖa▫i▫o punīṯā sagle kul ujāre. ||3||
Bidar, the son of a slave-girl, was purified, and all his generations were redeemed. ||3||

ਕਵਨ ਪਰਾਧ ਬਤਾਵਉ ਅਪੁਨੇ ਮਿਥਿਆ ਮੋਹ ਮਗਨਾਰੇ ॥
कवन पराध बतावउ अपुने मिथिआ मोह मगनारे ॥
Kavan parāḏẖ baṯāva▫o apune mithi▫ā moh magnāre.
What sins of mine should I speak of? I am intoxicated with false emotional attachment.

ਆਇਓ ਸਾਮ ਨਾਨਕ ਓਟ ਹਰਿ ਕੀ ਲੀਜੈ ਭੁਜਾ ਪਸਾਰੇ ॥੪॥੨॥
आइओ साम नानक ओट हरि की लीजै भुजा पसारे ॥४॥२॥
Ā▫i▫o sām Nānak ot har kī lījai bẖujā pasāre. ||4||2||
Nanak has entered the Sanctuary of the Lord; please, reach out and take me into Your embrace. ||4||2||

Bhagat Kabir's Deen Dayaal Bharose Tere


English Transliteration

gourree ||
Gauree:

raam japo jeea aisae aisae || 
dhhroo prehilaadh japiou har jaisae ||1||

dheen dhaeiaal bharosae thaerae ||
sabh paravaar charraaeiaa baerrae ||1|| rehaao ||

jaa this bhaavai thaa hukam manaavai ||
eis baerrae ko paar laghaavai ||2||

gur parasaadh aisee budhh samaanee ||
chook gee fir aavan jaanee ||3||

kahu kabeer bhaj saarigapaanee ||
ouravaar paar sabh eaeko dhaanee ||4||2||10||61|
(GGS Page 337)

Translation 

Just as Dhroo and Prahlaad meditated on the Lord, so should you meditate on the Lord, O my soul. ||1||

O Lord, Merciful to the meek, I have placed my faith in You;
along with all my family (of kaam krodh etc.), I have come aboard Your boat. ||1||Pause||

When it is pleasing to Him, then He inspires us to obey the Hukam of His Command.
He causes this boat to cross over. ||2||

By Guru's Grace, such understanding is infused into me;
my comings and goings in reincarnation have ended. ||3||

Says Kabeer, meditate, vibrate upon the Lord, the Sustainer of the earth.
In this world, in the world beyond and everywhere, He alone is the Giver. ||4||2||10||61||


Bhagat Namdev's Moko Taar Le


English Transliteration 

Mo kao ṯār le rāmā ṯār le.
Mai ajān jan ṯaribe na jāno bāp bīṯẖulā bāh ḏe. ||1|| rahāo.

Nar ṯe sur hoe jāṯ nimakẖ mai saṯgur buḏẖ sikẖlāī.
Nar ṯe upaj surag kao jīṯio so avkẖaḏẖ mai pāī. ||1||

Jahā jahā ḏẖūa nāraḏ teke naik tikāvahu mohi.
Ŧere nām avilamb bahuṯ jan uḏẖre nāme kī nij maṯ eh. ||2||3||

Translation 

Ferry me, Raama, ferry me across.
I'm ignorant, I can't swim; Father Beethla, give me your arm!

Satgur's wisdom can transform a human to the divine instantly, 
Pour within me the elixir that empowers an earthling to win heaven

Please place me wherever you placed Dhroo through Naarad
I know You have ferried across countless without delay 

(See Moko Taar Le for more details on this shabad)


Bhai Gurdas' Dhroo Hasda Ghar Aaya


ik oa(n)kaar sathiguraprasaadh ||

dhhroo hasadhaa ghar aaeiaa kar piaar pio kushharr leethaa||
baaho(n) pakarr out(h)aaliaa man vich ros mathraeee keethaa||
dduddahulikaa maa(n) pushhae thoo(n) saavaanee hai k sareethaa||
saavaanee haa(n) janam dhee naam n bhagathee karam dhrirreethaa||
kis oudhaam thae raaj milai sathr oo thae sabh hovan meethaa||
paramaeshar aaraadhheeai ji(n)dhoo hoeeai pathith puneethaa||
baahar chaliaa karan thap man bairaagee hoe atheethaa||
naaradhamun oupadhaeshiaa naam nidhhaan amiouras peethaa||
pishhahu raajae sadhiaa abachal raaj karahu nith neethaa||
haar chalae guramukh jag jeethaa ||a||


One Oankar, the primal energy, realized through the grace of the divine preceptor

Boy Dhru came smiling to his house (palace) and his father full of love put him into his lap.

Seeing this, the stepmother got angry and catching hold of his arm pushed him out of the lap of the father (the king).

Tearful with fear he asked his mother whether she was a queen or a maidservant?

O son! (said she) I was born queen but I did not remember God and did not undertake acts of devotion (and this is the reason of yours and mine plight).

With that effort can the kingdom be had (asked Dhru) and how can enemies turn friends?

The Lord should be worshipped and thus the sinners also become sacred ones (said the mother).

Listening to this and getting totally detached in his mind Dhru went out (to the jungle) to undertake rigorous discipline.

On the way, sage Narad taught him the technique of devotion and Dhru quaffed the nectar from the ocean of the Name of the Lord.

(After some time) King (Uttanpad) called him back and asked him (Dhru) to rule forever.

The gurmukhs who seem to be losing i.e. who turn their faces from the evil propensities, conquer the world.
I was toying with the idea of translating Bhagat Namdev's poem "Moko Taar Le" as "Ferry me across" and found an interesting children's poem by Christina Rossetti:

Ferry Me Across the Water
- Christina Rossetti
​
'Ferry me across the water, 
Do, boatman, do.'
‘If you've a penny in your purse 
I'll ferry you.’ 

‘I have a penny in my purse, 
And my eyes are blue; 
So ferry me across the water, 
Do, boatman, do.’ 

‘Step into my ferry-boat, 
Be they black or blue, 
And for the penny in your purse 
I'll ferry you.’ 


While this poem seems very simplistic, I really loved its potential depth and wide possibilities. It seems there was philosophy hidden behind the simple words. And I found it was related to a Greek myth as described in a weebly blog:
A popular association is the “boatman” with Charon, who in Greek mythology, is the ferryman who carries the souls of newly deceased across the river Styx and into Hades the realm of the dead. However, to reach the underworld every soul must pay the toll which was in folklore, was a single golden Drachma ... often placed on the eyelids or mouth of the deceased by family members. Following this interpretation the moral of Rossetti's poem is presented in subtle inflections and attenuated in the forthright actions of her characters. Christina Rossetti illustrates her “Boatman” as a omen, or symbol of death, this entity does not discriminate or base his toll on the visual characteristics of his victims. Death takes no prisoners and makes no exceptions. In the afterlife, it matters not how you may have appeared when you were alive, you will pay the toll the same as everyman. The unusual presentation of such a sombre and morbid moral in such light-hearted dimensions has a startlingly captivating effect on the reader. 

The lovers of oneness would agree with the equal treatment.  They would add that the worldy attributes of beauty or wealth don't help in ferrying one across. The earnings of good character are needed to successfully swim across. 

Apparently, according to Greek mythology, without payment to Charon the dead would not get entry into the underworld and would instead be drifting on the shore for 100 years. I also heard about camels being tied to a recent grave to help in the journey after death.  How fascinating these myths are!

I am also wondering, why should one pay to go to hell? Isn't Hades like hell? Oh well!

I started reading more about this poet: 
Christina Georgina Rossetti (5 December 1830 – 29 December 1894) was an English poet who wrote various romantic, devotional, and children's poems. "Goblin Market" and "Remember" remain famous. She wrote the words of two Christmas carols well known in the UK: "In the Bleak Midwinter", later set by Gustav Holst and by Harold Darke, and "Love Came Down at Christmas", set by Harold Darke and by other composers. She was a sister of the artist and poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti, featuring in several of his paintings. More on Wikipedia.



I also found and liked the following poem by her. It reminds me of Guru Nanak's Pavan Guru. Between water and air, I guess we have also covered 2 of the 5 elements. 

Who Has Seen the Wind
- Christina Rossetti

Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you.
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?
​Neither you nor I.
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.


Some of her other popular poems include: 

Goblin Market: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44996/goblin-market

Remember: This seems like a good poem for a funeral:  

Remember

Remember me when I am gone away,
         Gone far away into the silent land;
         When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
         You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
         Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
         And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
         For if the darkness and corruption leave
         A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
         Than that you should remember and be sad.


Interested in Going to Hell?


Whats interesting?
Any mythology 
is fascinating, 
especially 
Greek!

How 
someone dies 
and then this boatman 
ferries you across 
the Styx to 
Hades. 

What I am interested in 
is why one needs to 
pay to go to hell?

Well ... 
One good thing
is that survivors pay!

Upon either 
the eyes or the mouth
is placed a drachma after death

The eyes and the mouth ...  
the two doorways
to the next 
world

So
either
good vision
or good singing
ferry the dead across

What I am interested in 
is why going nowhere
is worse than 
going to 
hell!

How 
to meditate



If you put water in front of a person 
and they wants an explanation
on how they can drink it 
it is clear that this
this person is 
not thirsty


Guru Arjan

Meditate Upon the One
More on Simro Simar Simar Sukh Pao

Remember Gobind in every breath
Saas Saas Simro Gobind
More on Saas Saas

Bhagat Kabir 

There is no right way. Give up useless rituals.
O Kabir, love Raam by Guru's Grace!

(See Raam Simar - Bhagat Kabir below)
More on Rituals

Guru Tegh Bahadur

The pleasures of the world are false.
Your purpose is to meditate on Raam

(See Raam Simar - Guru Tegh Bahadur below)

Bhagat Namdev

Why so proud? This body will perish
The real doer, my true love, is Raam

(See Raam Sanehi - Bhagat Namdev below)


Texts of Quoted Shabads

Raam Sanehi - Bhagat Namdev

ਧਨਾਸਰੀ ਬਾਣੀ ਭਗਤ ਨਾਮਦੇਵ ਜੀ ਕੀ
धनासरी बाणी भगत नामदेव जी की
Ḏẖanāsrī baṇī bẖagaṯ Nāmḏev jī kī
Dhanaasaree, The Word Of Devotee Naam Dayv Jee:

ੴ ਸਤਿਗੁਰ ਪ੍ਰਸਾਦਿ ॥
ੴ सतिगुर प्रसादि ॥
Ik▫oaʼnkār saṯgur parsāḏ.
One Universal Creator God. By The Grace Of The True Guru:

ਗਹਰੀ ਕਰਿ ਕੈ ਨੀਵ ਖੁਦਾਈ ਊਪਰਿ ਮੰਡਪ ਛਾਏ ॥
गहरी करि कै नीव खुदाई ऊपरि मंडप छाए ॥
Gahrī kar kai nīv kẖuḏāī ūpar mandap cẖẖāe.
They dig deep foundations, and build lofty palaces.

ਮਾਰਕੰਡੇ ਤੇ ਕੋ ਅਧਿਕਾਈ ਜਿਨਿ ਤ੍ਰਿਣ ਧਰਿ ਮੂੰਡ ਬਲਾਏ ॥੧॥
मारकंडे ते को अधिकाई जिनि त्रिण धरि मूंड बलाए ॥१॥
Mārkande ṯe ko aḏẖikā▫ī jin ṯariṇ ḏẖar mūnd balā▫e. ||1||
Can anyone live longer than Markanda, who passed his days with only a handful of straw upon his head? ||1||

ਹਮਰੋ ਕਰਤਾ ਰਾਮੁ ਸਨੇਹੀ ॥
हमरो करता रामु सनेही ॥
Hamro karṯā rām sanehī.
The Creator Lord is our only friend.

ਕਾਹੇ ਰੇ ਨਰ ਗਰਬੁ ਕਰਤ ਹਹੁ ਬਿਨਸਿ ਜਾਇ ਝੂਠੀ ਦੇਹੀ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
काहे रे नर गरबु करत हहु बिनसि जाइ झूठी देही ॥१॥ रहाउ ॥
Kāhe re nar garab karaṯ hahu binas jā▫e jẖūṯẖī ḏehī. ||1|| rahā▫o.
O man, why are you so proud? This body is only temporary - it shall pass away. ||1||Pause||


ਮੇਰੀ ਮੇਰੀ ਕੈਰਉ ਕਰਤੇ ਦੁਰਜੋਧਨ ਸੇ ਭਾਈ ॥
मेरी मेरी कैरउ करते दुरजोधन से भाई ॥
Merī merī kaira▫o karṯe ḏurjoḏẖan se bẖā▫ī.
The Kaurvas, who had brothers like Duryodhan, used to proclaim, "This is ours! This is ours!

ਬਾਰਹ ਜੋਜਨ ਛਤ੍ਰੁ ਚਲੈ ਥਾ ਦੇਹੀ ਗਿਰਝਨ ਖਾਈ ॥੨॥
बारह जोजन छत्रु चलै था देही गिरझन खाई ॥२॥
Bārah jojan cẖẖaṯar cẖalai thā ḏehī girjẖan kẖā▫ī. ||2||
Their royal procession extended over sixty miles, and yet their bodies were eaten by vultures. ||2||

ਸਰਬ ਸੋੁਇਨ ਕੀ ਲੰਕਾ ਹੋਤੀ ਰਾਵਨ ਸੇ ਅਧਿਕਾਈ ॥
सरब सोइन की लंका होती रावन से अधिकाई ॥
Sarab so▫in kī lankā hoṯī rāvan se aḏẖikā▫ī.
Sri Lanka was totally rich with gold; was anyone greater than its ruler Raavan?

ਕਹਾ ਭਇਓ ਦਰਿ ਬਾਂਧੇ ਹਾਥੀ ਖਿਨ ਮਹਿ ਭਈ ਪਰਾਈ ॥੩॥
कहा भइओ दरि बांधे हाथी खिन महि भई पराई ॥३॥
Kahā bẖa▫i▫o ḏar bāʼnḏẖe hāthī kẖin mėh bẖa▫ī parā▫ī. ||3||
What happened to the elephants, tethered at his gate? In an instant, it all belonged to someone else. ||3||

ਦੁਰਬਾਸਾ ਸਿਉ ਕਰਤ ਠਗਉਰੀ ਜਾਦਵ ਏ ਫਲ ਪਾਏ ॥
दुरबासा सिउ करत ठगउरी जादव ए फल पाए ॥
Ḏurbāsā si▫o karaṯ ṯẖag▫urī jāḏav e fal pā▫e.
The Yaadvas deceived Durbaasaa, and received their rewards.

ਕ੍ਰਿਪਾ ਕਰੀ ਜਨ ਅਪੁਨੇ ਊਪਰ ਨਾਮਦੇਉ ਹਰਿ ਗੁਨ ਗਾਏ ॥੪॥੧॥
क्रिपा करी जन अपुने ऊपर नामदेउ हरि गुन गाए ॥४॥१॥
Kirpā karī jan apune ūpar nāmḏe▫o har gun gā▫e. ||4||1||
The Lord has shown mercy to His humble servant, and now Naam Dayv sings the Glorious Praises of the Lord. ||4||1||

Raam Simar - Bhagat Kabir

ਰਾਮ ਸਿਮਰਿ ਰਾਮ ਸਿਮਰਿ ਰਾਮ ਸਿਮਰਿ ਭਾਈ ॥
राम सिमरि राम सिमरि राम सिमरि भाई ॥
Rām simar rām simar rām simar bẖā▫ī.
Remember the Lord, remember the Lord, remember the Lord in meditation, O Siblings of Destiny.

ਰਾਮ ਨਾਮ ਸਿਮਰਨ ਬਿਨੁ ਬੂਡਤੇ ਅਧਿਕਾਈ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
राम नाम सिमरन बिनु बूडते अधिकाई ॥१॥ रहाउ ॥
Rām nām simran bin būdṯe aḏẖikā▫ī. ||1|| rahā▫o.
Without remembering the Lord's Name in meditation, a great many are drowned. ||1||Pause||

ਬਨਿਤਾ ਸੁਤ ਦੇਹ ਗ੍ਰੇਹ ਸੰਪਤਿ ਸੁਖਦਾਈ ॥
बनिता सुत देह ग्रेह स्मपति सुखदाई ॥
Baniṯā suṯ ḏeh gareh sampaṯ sukẖ▫ḏā▫ī.
Your spouse, children, body, house and possessions - you think these will give you peace.

ਇਨ੍ਹ੍ਹ ਮੈ ਕਛੁ ਨਾਹਿ ਤੇਰੋ ਕਾਲ ਅਵਧ ਆਈ ॥੧॥
इन्ह मै कछु नाहि तेरो काल अवध आई ॥१॥
Inĥ mai kacẖẖ nāhi ṯero kāl avaḏẖ ā▫ī. ||1||
But none of these shall be yours, when the time of death comes. ||1||

ਅਜਾਮਲ ਗਜ ਗਨਿਕਾ ਪਤਿਤ ਕਰਮ ਕੀਨੇ ॥
अजामल गज गनिका पतित करम कीने ॥
Ajāmal gaj ganikā paṯiṯ karam kīne.
Ajaamal, the elephant, and the prostitute committed many sins,

ਤੇਊ ਉਤਰਿ ਪਾਰਿ ਪਰੇ ਰਾਮ ਨਾਮ ਲੀਨੇ ॥੨॥
तेऊ उतरि पारि परे राम नाम लीने ॥२॥
Ŧe▫ū uṯar pār pare rām nām līne. ||2||
but still, they crossed over the world-ocean, by chanting the Lord's Name. ||2||

ਸੂਕਰ ਕੂਕਰ ਜੋਨਿ ਭ੍ਰਮੇ ਤਊ ਲਾਜ ਨ ਆਈ ॥
सूकर कूकर जोनि भ्रमे तऊ लाज न आई ॥
Sūkar kūkar jon bẖarame ṯa▫ū lāj na ā▫ī.
You have wandered in reincarnation, as pigs and dogs - did you feel no shame?

ਰਾਮ ਨਾਮ ਛਾਡਿ ਅੰਮ੍ਰਿਤ ਕਾਹੇ ਬਿਖੁ ਖਾਈ ॥੩॥
राम नाम छाडि अम्रित काहे बिखु खाई ॥३॥
Rām nām cẖẖād amriṯ kāhe bikẖ kẖā▫ī. ||3||
Forsaking the Ambrosial Name of the Lord, why do you eat poison? ||3||

ਤਜਿ ਭਰਮ ਕਰਮ ਬਿਧਿ ਨਿਖੇਧ ਰਾਮ ਨਾਮੁ ਲੇਹੀ ॥
तजि भरम करम बिधि निखेध राम नामु लेही ॥
Ŧaj bẖaram karam biḏẖ nikẖeḏẖ rām nām lehī.
Abandon your doubts about do's and dont's, and take to the Lord's Name.

ਗੁਰ ਪ੍ਰਸਾਦਿ ਜਨ ਕਬੀਰ ਰਾਮੁ ਕਰਿ ਸਨੇਹੀ ॥੪॥੫॥
गुर प्रसादि जन कबीर रामु करि सनेही ॥४॥५॥
Gur parsāḏ jan Kabīr rām kar sanehī. ||4||5||
By Guru's Grace, O servant Kabeer, love the Lord. ||4||5||


Raam Simar - Guru Tegh Bahadur


ਰਾਗੁ ਜੈਜਾਵੰਤੀ ਮਹਲਾ ੯ ॥
रागु जैजावंती महला ९ ॥
Rāg jaijāvanṯī mėhlā 9.
Raag Jaijaavantee, Ninth Mehl:

ਰਾਮੁ ਸਿਮਰਿ ਰਾਮੁ ਸਿਮਰਿ ਇਹੈ ਤੇਰੈ ਕਾਜਿ ਹੈ ॥
रामु सिमरि रामु सिमरि इहै तेरै काजि है ॥
Rām simar rām simar ihai ṯerai kāj hai.
Meditate in remembrance on the Lord - meditate on the Lord; this alone shall be of use to you.

ਮਾਇਆ ਕੋ ਸੰਗੁ ਤਿਆਗੁ ਪ੍ਰਭ ਜੂ ਕੀ ਸਰਨਿ ਲਾਗੁ ॥
माइआ को संगु तिआगु प्रभ जू की सरनि लागु ॥
Mā▫i▫ā ko sang ṯi▫āg parabẖ jū kī saran lāg.
Abandon your association with Maya, and take shelter in the Sanctuary of God.

ਜਗਤ ਸੁਖ ਮਾਨੁ ਮਿਥਿਆ ਝੂਠੋ ਸਭ ਸਾਜੁ ਹੈ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
जगत सुख मानु मिथिआ झूठो सभ साजु है ॥१॥ रहाउ ॥
Jagaṯ sukẖ mān mithi▫ā jẖūṯẖo sabẖ sāj hai. ||1|| rahā▫o.
Remember that the pleasures of the world are false; this whole show is just an illusion. ||1||Pause||

ਸੁਪਨੇ ਜਿਉ ਧਨੁ ਪਛਾਨੁ ਕਾਹੇ ਪਰਿ ਕਰਤ ਮਾਨੁ ॥
सुपने जिउ धनु पछानु काहे परि करत मानु ॥
Supne ji▫o ḏẖan pacẖẖān kāhe par karaṯ mān.
You must understand that this wealth is just a dream. Why are you so proud?

ਬਾਰੂ ਕੀ ਭੀਤਿ ਜੈਸੇ ਬਸੁਧਾ ਕੋ ਰਾਜੁ ਹੈ ॥੧॥
बारू की भीति जैसे बसुधा को राजु है ॥१॥
Bārū kī bẖīṯ jaise basuḏẖā ko rāj hai. ||1||
The empires of the earth are like walls of sand. ||1||

ਨਾਨਕੁ ਜਨੁ ਕਹਤੁ ਬਾਤ ਬਿਨਸਿ ਜੈਹੈ ਤੇਰੋ ਗਾਤੁ ॥
नानकु जनु कहतु बात बिनसि जैहै तेरो गातु ॥
Nānak jan kahaṯ bāṯ binas jaihai ṯero gāṯ.
Servant Nanak speaks the Truth: your body shall perish and pass away.

ਛਿਨੁ ਛਿਨੁ ਕਰਿ ਗਇਓ ਕਾਲੁ ਤੈਸੇ ਜਾਤੁ ਆਜੁ ਹੈ ॥੨॥੧॥
छिनु छिनु करि गइओ कालु तैसे जातु आजु है ॥२॥१॥
Cẖẖin cẖẖin kar ga▫i▫o kāl ṯaise jāṯ āj hai. ||2||1||
Moment by moment, yesterday passed. Today is passing as well. ||2||1||



Pavan, the Guru

I sit 

in the middle of the Golden Gate of all poetry 
squinting backwards into the past.
To me its somewhat unclear 
how I ever got here.

Then I stare into an obscure future 
through the smoky 
California 
sky

into two hills 
on the horizon looking 
directly into the subdued sun
appearing relatively victorious today.

A few days ago here
the he forgot
to rise.

Where were you?
And where are 
we going?

Look ...
in this smoke is lost 
any sign of any passage 
to anything even remotely soulful.

As I sit here today
You will sit one day
reflecting upon your fires

You ...
singer of all
modern connections, Walt!
Have you heard of the survival rule of 3's 
which says that one can live without 
food  for 3 weeks, without water 
for 3 days, but sans air 
just 3 minutes.

I heard some have returned
to mother earth
waiting for 
a gasp.

And you have not yet clarified
which is more victorious:
death or dismay?

Am I in 
your midst.
Where are you?

O tranquil song 
of the air,
where?

Pavan
O Wind!
Carrier of all
working night and day
Where are you to eclaricise,
O Guru of all gurus, to clear the way?


Questions. 
EM Foresters book by the same name may have been based on this poem. It came a few decades after Whitman’s poem. It was confirmed in a YouTube video that it was. Hmm. Will be interesting to hear the story. It brought a lot of acclaim to the writer. 




 

https://youtu.be/KNnbyfDHo1k

Walt Whitman's Passage to India

1
Singing my days,  
Singing the great achievements of the present,  
Singing the strong light works of engineers,  
Our modern wonders, (the antique ponderous Seven outvied,)  
In the Old World the east the Suez canal,
The New by its mighty railroad spann’d,  
The seas inlaid with eloquent gentle wires;  
Yet first to sound, and ever sound, the cry with thee O soul,   
The Past! the Past! the Past!  
  
The Past— the dark unfathom’d retrospect!
The teeming gulf—the sleepers and the shadows!  
The past—the infinite greatness of the past!  
For what is the present after all but a growth out of the past?  
(As a projectile, form’d, impell’d, passing a certain line, still keeps on,   
So the present, utterly form’d, impell’d by the past.)
 
2
Passage O soul to India!  
Eclaircise the myths Asiatic, the primitive fables.  
  
Not you alone proud truths of the world!  
Nor you alone ye facts of modern science,  
But myths and fables of eld, Asia’s, Africa’s fables,
The far-darting beams of the spirit, the unloos’d dreams!  
The deep diving bibles and legends,  
The daring plots of the poets, the elder religions;  
O you temples fairer than lilies pour’d over by the rising sun!  
O you fables spurning the known, eluding the hold of the known, mounting to heaven!
You lofty and dazzling towers, pinnacled, red as roses, burnish’d with gold!   
Towers of fables immortal fashion’d from mortal dreams!  
You too I welcome and fully the same as the rest!  
You too with joy I sing.  
Passage to India!
Lo, soul, seest thou not God’s purpose from the first?  
The earth to be spann’d, connected by network,    
The races, neighbors, to marry and be given in marriage,  
The oceans to be cross’d, the distant brought near, 
The lands to be welded together.  
  
A worship new I sing, 
You captains, voyagers, explorers, yours,  
You engineers, you architects, machinists, yours,   
You, not for trade or transportation only, 
But in God’s name, and for thy sake O soul.  

3
Passage to India!  
Lo soul for thee of tableaus twain,  
I see in one the Suez canal initiated, open’d,  
I see the procession of steamships, the Empress Eugenie’s leading the van,  
I mark, from on deck the strange landscape, the pure sky, the level sand in the distance,   
I pass swiftly the picturesque groups, the workmen gather’d,  
The gigantic dredging machines.  
  
In one again, different, (yet thine, all thine, O soul, the same,)  
I see over my own continent the Pacific Railroad, surmounting every barrier,
I see continual trains of cars winding along the Platte, carrying freight and passengers,    
I hear the locomotives rushing and roaring, and the shrill steam-whistle,   
I hear the echoes reverberate through the grandest scenery in the world,  
I cross the Laramie plains, I note the rocks in grotesque shapes, the buttes,   
I see the plentiful larkspur and wild onions, the barren, colorless, sage-deserts,
I see in glimpses afar or towering immediately above me the great mountains, I see the Wind River and the Wahsatch mountains,   
I see the Monument mountain and the Eagle’s Nest, I pass the Promontory, I ascend the Nevadas,  
I scan the noble Elk mountain and wind around its base,    
I see the Humboldt range, I thread the valley and cross the river,  
I see the clear waters of Lake Tahoe, I see forests of majestic pines,
Or crossing the great desert, the alkaline plains, I behold enchanting mirages of waters and meadows,    
Marking through these and after all, in duplicate slender lines,  
Bridging the three or four thousand miles of land travel,  
Tying the Eastern to the Western sea,  
The road between Europe and Asia.
  
(Ah Genoese thy dream! thy dream!  
Centuries after thou art laid in thy grave,  
The shore thou foundest verifies thy dream.)  

4
Passage to India!  
Struggles of many a captain, tales of many a sailor dead,
Over my mood stealing and spreading they come,  
Like clouds and cloudlets in the unreach’d sky.  
  
Along all history, down the slopes,  
As a rivulet running, sinking now, and now again to the surface rising,  
A ceaseless thought, a varied train—lo, soul, to thee, thy sight, they rise,
The plans, the voyages again, the expeditions;  
Again Vasco de Gama sails forth,  
Again the knowledge gain’d, the mariner’s compass,  
Lands found and nations born, thou born America,  
For purpose vast, man’s long probation fill’d,
Thou, rondure of the world at last accomplish’d.  

5
O vast Rondure, swimming in space,   
Cover’d all over with visible power and beauty,  
Alternate light and day, and the teeming spiritual darkness,  
Unspeakable high processions of sun and moon and countless stars above,
Below, the manifold grass and waters, animals, mountains, trees,  
With inscrutable purpose, some hidden prophetic intention,  
Now first it seems my thought begins to span thee.  
  
Down from the gardens of Asia descending radiating,  
Adam and Eve appear, then their myriad progeny after them,
Wandering, yearning, curious, with restless explorations,  
With questionings, baffled, formless, feverish, with never-happy hearts,   
With that sad, incessant refrain, Wherefore, unsatisfied soul? and Whither O mocking life?  
  
Ah who shall soothe these feverish children?  
Who justify these restless explorations?
Who speak the secret of impassive earth?  
Who bind it to us? What is this separate Nature, so unnatural?  
What is this earth, to our affections? (unloving earth, without a throb to answer ours,    
Cold earth, the place of graves.)  
  
Yet soul be sure the first intent remains, and shall be carried out,
Perhaps even now the time has arrived.  
  
After the seas are all cross’d, (as they seem already cross’d,)  
After the great captains and engineers have accomplish’d their work,  
After the noble inventors, after the scientists, the chemist, the geologist, ethnologist,  
Finally shall come the poet worthy that name,
The true Son of God shall come singing his songs.  
  
Then not your deeds only O voyagers, O scientists and inventors, shall be justified,   
All these hearts as of fretted children shall be sooth’d,  
All affection shall be fully responded to, the secret shall be told,   
All these separations and gaps shall be taken up and hook’d and link’d together, 
The whole earth, this cold, impassive, voiceless earth, shall be completely justified,   
Trinitas divine shall be gloriously accomplish’d and compacted by the true son of God, the poet,  
(He shall indeed pass the straits and conquer the mountains,  
He shall double the Cape of Good Hope to some purpose,)  
Nature and Man shall be disjoin’d and diffused no more,
The true son of God shall absolutely fuse them.  
  
6
Year at whose wide-flung door I sing!  
Year of the purpose accomplish’d!  
Year of the marriage of continents, climates and oceans!  
(No mere doge of Venice now wedding the Adriatic,)
I see, O year in you the vast terraqueous globe given and giving all,  
Europe to Asia, Africa join’d, and they to the New World,   
The lands, geographies, dancing before you, holding a festival garland,  
As brides and bridegrooms hand in hand.  
  
Passage to India!
Cooling airs from Caucasus far, soothing cradle of man,  
The river Euphrates flowing, the past lit up again.  
  
Lo soul, the retrospect brought forward,   
The old, most populous, wealthiest of earth’s lands,  
The streams of the Indus and the Ganges, and their many affluents,
(I my shores of America walking to-day behold, resuming all,)   
The tale of Alexander, on his warlike marches suddenly dying,  
On one side China and on the other side Persia and Arabia,  
To the south the great seas and the Bay of Bengal,  
The flowing literatures, tremendous epics, religions, castes,
Old occult Brahma interminably far back, the tender and junior Buddha,  
Central and southern empires and all their belongings, possessors,  
The wars of Tamerlane, the reign of Aurungzebe,  
The traders, rulers, explorers, Moslems, Venetians, Byzantium, the Arabs, Portuguese,   
The first travelers famous yet, Marco Polo, Batouta the Moor,
Doubts to be solv’d, the map incognita, blanks to be fill’d,  
The foot of man unstay’d, the hands never at rest,  
Thyself O soul that will not brook a challenge.  
The medieval navigators rise before me,  
The world of 1492, with its awaken’d enterprise,
Something swelling in humanity now like the sap of the earth in spring,  
The sunset splendor of chivalry declining.  
  
And who art thou, sad shade?  
Gigantic, visionary, thyself a visionary,  
With majestic limbs, and pious beaming eyes,
Spreading around, with every look of thine, a golden world,  
Enhuing it with gorgeous hues.  
  
As the chief histrion,  
Down to the footlights walks in some great scena,  
Dominating the rest I see the Admiral himself,
(History’s type of courage, action, faith,)  
Behold him sail from Palos leading his little fleet,  
His voyage behold, his return, his great fame,  
His misfortunes, calumniators, behold him a prisoner, chain’d,   
Behold his dejection, poverty, death.
  
(Curious in time, I stand, noting the efforts of heroes,   
Is the deferment long? bitter the slander, poverty, death?  
Lies the seed unreck’d for centuries in the ground? lo, to God’s due occasion,   
Uprising in the night, it sprouts, blooms,  
And fills the earth with use and beauty.) 
  
7
Passage indeed O soul to primal thought,  
Not lands and seas alone, thy own clear freshness,  
The young maturity of brood and bloom,   
To realms of budding bibles.  
  
O soul, repressless, I with thee and thou with me,
Thy circumnavigation of the world begin,   
Of man, the voyage of his mind’s return,  
To reason’s early paradise,  
Back, back to wisdom’s birth, to innocent intuitions,  
Again with fair creation. 
  
8
O we can wait no longer,   
We too take ship O soul,  
Joyous we too launch out on trackless seas,  
Fearless for unknown shores on waves of ecstasy to sail,  
Amid the wafting winds, (thou pressing me to thee, I thee to me, O soul,)
Caroling free, singing our song of God,  
Chanting our chant of pleasant exploration.  
  
With laugh, and many a kiss,  
(Let others deprecate, let others weep for sin, remorse, humiliation,)   
O soul, thou pleasest me, I thee.
  
Ah more than any priest O soul we too believe in God,  
But with the mystery of God we dare not dally.  
  
O soul thou pleasest me, I thee,   
Sailing these seas or on the hills, or waking in the night,  
Thoughts, silent thoughts, of Time and Space and Death, like waters flowing,
Bear me indeed as through the regions infinite,  
Whose air I breathe, whose ripples hear, lave me all over,   
Bathe me O God in thee, mounting to thee,  
I and my soul to range in range of thee.  
  
O Thou transcendant,
Nameless, the fibre and the breath,   
Light of the light, shedding forth universes, thou centre of them,   
Thou mightier centre of the true, the good, the loving,   
Thou moral, spiritual fountain— affection’s source— thou reservoir,   
(O pensive soul of me— O thirst unsatisfied— waitest not there?
Waitest not haply for us somewhere there the Comrade perfect?)  
Thou pulse— thou motive of the stars, suns, systems,  
That, circling, move in order, safe, harmonious,  
Athwart the shapeless vastnesses of space,  
How should I think, how breathe a single breath, how speak, if, out of myself,
I could not launch, to those, superior universes?  
  
Swiftly I shrivel at the thought of God,  
At Nature and its wonders, Time and Space and Death,  
But that I, turning, call to thee O soul, thou actual Me,  
And lo, thou gently masterest the orbs,
Thou matest Time, smilest content at Death,  
And fillest, swellest full the vastnesses of Space.  
  
Greater than stars or suns,  
Bounding O soul thou journeyest forth;  
What love than thine and ours could wider amplify?
What aspirations, wishes, outvie thine and ours, O soul?  
What dreams of the ideal? what plans of purity, perfection, strength?   
What cheerful willingness for others’ sake, to give up all?  
For others’ sake to suffer all?  
  
Reckoning ahead O soul, when thou, the time achiev’d,
The seas all cross’d, weather’d the capes, the voyage done,  
Surrounded, copest, frontest God, yieldest, the aim attain’d,  
As fill’d with friendship, love complete, the Elder Brother found,   
The Younger melts in fondness in his arms.  
  
9
Passage to more than India!
Are thy wings plumed indeed for such far flights?  
O Soul, voyagest thou indeed on voyages like these?  
Disportest thou on waters such as those?  
Soundest below the Sanscrit and the Vedas?  
Then have thy bent unleash’d.
  
Passage to you, your shores, ye aged fierce enigmas!  
Passage to you, to mastership of you, ye strangling problems!  
You, strew’d with the wrecks of skeletons, that, living, never reach’d you.  
Passage to more than India!  
O secret of the earth and sky!
Of you O waters of the sea! O winding creeks and rivers!  
Of you O woods and fields! Of you strong mountains of my land!   
Of you O prairies! of you, gray rocks!  
O morning red! O clouds! O rain and snows!  
O day and night, passage to you!
  
O sun and moon, and all you stars! Sirius and Jupiter!  
Passage to you!  
  
Passage, immediate passage! the blood burns in my veins!  
Away O soul! hoist instantly the anchor!  
Cut the hawsers—haul out—shake out every sail!
Have we not stood here like trees in the ground long enough?  
Have we not grovell’d here long enough, eating and drinking like mere brutes?   
Have we not darken’d and dazed ourselves with books long enough?   
  
Sail forth— steer for the deep waters only,   
Reckless O soul, exploring, I with thee, and thou with me,
For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared to go,  
And we will risk the ship, ourselves and all.  
  
O my brave soul!  
O farther farther sail!  
O daring joy, but safe! are they not all the seas of God?
O farther, farther, farther sail!


Passage To India References

https://poets.org/poem/passage-india

https://poemanalysis.com/walt-whitman/passage-to-india/

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/69413/walt-whitman-a-passage-to-india

https://ir.uiowa.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1002&context=wwqr

https://www.jstor.org/stable/461642?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents

https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/l/leaves-of-grass/summary-and-analysis-calamus/passage-to-india#:~:text=The%20poet%20and%20his%20soul%2C%20like%20two%20lovers%2C%20are%20united,God%20as%20a%20transcendental%20deity.&text=In%20section%209%2C%20the%20journey,is%20a%20challenging%20spiritual%20journey.

This poem is about traveling.  The limits of traveling.  The uselessness of it.  And the romance of it.  That first stanza is brilliant. Some people like traveling, some don't.  I am in the same boat as Billy Collins -- I don't much like traveling. Perhaps because for the longest time I was traveling a lot for work. 

The poem describes how well travelled people are considered knowledgeable. Travelers get to learn by experience.  They get to learn about people and places. Cultures, traditions, and life conditions. I have heard that the Quran says that it is good to travel as far as China if you would gain knowledge.  Apparently, even Science says that travel makes one smarter.  Here Billy Collins shows why he doesn't like traveling, how it exposes his lack of knowledge, and how he keeps it safe.  



Safe Travels

Every time Gulliver travels
into another chapter of “Gulliver’s Travels” 
I marvel at how well travelled he is
despite his incurable gullibility.

I don’t enjoy traveling anymore
because, for instance,
I still don’t know the difference
between a “bloke” and a “chap.”

And I’m embarrassed
whenever I have to hold out a palm
of loose coins to a cashier
as if I were feeding a pigeon in a park.

Like Proust, I see only trouble
in store if I leave my room,
which is not lined with cork,
only sheets of wallpaper

featuring orange flowers
and little green vines.
Of course, anytime I want
I can travel in my imagination

but only as far as Toronto,
where some graduate students
with goatees and snoods
are translating my poems into Canadian.

Witty poem. Billy keeps his travel safe by only traveling in his imagination. Ha!
This afternoon I am listening to Billy Collins on his afternoon poetry reading.  He is reading Man Listening to Disc.  Billy says this was from the 90s and he was using one of those discmans walking down the street. According to an analysis of this poem I found on the internet, "The poem perfectly sums up that feeling of being the master of your own private space whilst out in public, earphones attached, music loud and clear, in your own bubble, a 'hub of the cosmos', listening to a simple disc." 

To me it shows how people are lost in their own, thinking that they are the center of the universe.  Truly believing in the Maya ... not only that we are all disparate, also that we are the center of the universe. There are so many centers of the universe - every person a center, every atom a center.  They were all close together before the big bang; since then on average all the centers of the universe are flying away from each other. I don't know if this carefreeness is good or bad.  I guess no one is being harmed.  But I am not sure about this. 



Man Listening to Disc
by Billy Collins

This is not bad --
ambling along 44th Street
with Sonny Rollins for company,
his music flowing through the soft calipers
of these earphones,

as if he were right beside me
on this clear day in March,
the pavement sparkling with sunlight,
pigeons fluttering off the curb,
nodding over a profusion of bread crumbs.

In fact, I would say
my delight at being suffused
with phrases from his saxophone --
some like honey, some like vinegar --
is surpassed only by my gratitude

to Tommy Potter for taking the time
to join us on this breezy afternoon
with his most unwieldy bass
and to the esteemed Arthur Taylor
who is somehow managing to navigate

this crowd with his cumbersome drums.
And I bow deeply to Thelonious Monk
for figuring out a way
to motorize -- or whatever -- his huge piano
so he could be with us today.

This music is loud yet so confidential.
I cannot help feeling even more
like the center of the universe
than usual as I walk along to a rapid
little version of "The Way You Look Tonight,"

and all I can say to my fellow pedestrians,
to the woman in the white sweater,
the man in the tan raincoat and the heavy glasses,
who mistake themselves for the center of the universe --
all I can say is watch your step,

because the five of us, instruments and all,
are about to angle over
to the south side of the street
and then, in our own tightly knit way,
turn the corner at Sixth Avenue.

And if any of you are curious
about where this aggregation,
this whole battery-powered crew,
is headed, let us just say
that the real center of the universe,

the only true point of view,
is full of hope that he,
the hub of the cosmos
with his hair blown sideways,
will eventually make it all the way downtown.
Listening to this podcast: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/poem-talk/id270053936#episodeGuid=03356831-65f3-4202-90f9-1c6595414d6a


The Poem that Took the Place of a Mountain

By Wallace Stevens

There it was, word for word,
The poem that took the place of a mountain.

He breathed its oxygen,
Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his table.

It reminded him how he had needed
A place to go to in his own direction,

How he had recomposed the pines,
Shifted the rocks and picked his way among clouds,

For the outlook that would be right,
Where he would be complete in an unexplained completion:

The exact rock where his inexactnesses
Would discover, at last, the view toward which they had edged,

Where he could lie and, gazing down at the sea,
Recognize his unique and solitary home.


Faqirana Aye Sada Kar Chale - Mir Taqi Mir




Faqiraana aae sadaa kar chale,
Miyaan khush raho ham dua kar chale.

Jo tujh bin na jeene ko kahte the ham,
So is ahd ko ab wafa kar chale.

Koi naumidana karte nigah,
So tum ham se munh bhi chhipa kar chale.

Bahut aarzoo thi gali ki teri,
So yaan se lahu mein naha kar chale.

Dikhai diye yun ke bekhud kiya,
Hamen aap se bhi juda kar chale.

Jabin sijda karte hi karte gayi,
Haq-e-bandgi ham ada kar chale.

Prastash ki yaan taeen ke ai but tujhe,
Nazr mein sabhon ki Khuda kar chale.

Gayi umr dar band-e-fikr-e-ghazal,
So is fan ko aisa bara kar chale.

Kahen kya jo puchhe koi ham se Mir,
Jahaan mein tum ae the kya kar chale.


Translation: 
English Translation:

As a fakir* I did come to thee yelling I went away.
Be happy chum-buddy praying I went away.

I won’t live without you this I’d avowed.
To this pledge firm to be, on with it I went away.

Giving me no hopes, give me such a look.
Hiding face from me, you simply went away.

To be to your street, greatly I’d wished.
Blood-bathed there from me, I left and went away.

Your gaze made me disown my senses.
Separating thus you from me, I estranged away.

My forehead to the ground, each step I’d prayed.
Rightful duty, that comes for thee; I took it all the way.

I adored you so much O idol my love.
And you had become a deity, this all fancied away.

Composing ghazals, whole life for it I’d spent.
Made to blossom this artistry via this way.

What should I tell if someone asks me, O Meer!
In this world you come to be, what you did going away.
जो ये दिल है तो क्या सर-अंजाम होगा 
ता-ख़ाक भी ख़ाक आराम होगा 

Sar-Anjam - literally "the end of the head" or conclusion

If such is the heart, how will this end?
Until ashes there will be no rest

मिरा जी तो आँखों में आया ये सुनते 
कि दीदार भी एक दिन आम होगा 

My heart has come to my eyes hearing
that one day it will be easy to see the beloved. 

न होगा वो देखा जिसे कब्क तू ने 
वो इक बाग़ का सर्व-अंदाम होगा 

न निकला कर इतना भी बे-पर्दा घर से 
बहुत उस में ज़ालिम तो बदनाम होगा 

हज़ारों की याँ लग गईं छत से आँखें 
तू ऐ माह किस शब-ए-लब-ओ-बाम होगा 

वो कुछ जानता होगा ज़ुल्फ़ों में फँसना 
जो कोई असीर ता-दाम होगा 

जिगर-चाकी नाकामी दुनिया है आख़िर 
नहीं आए जो 'मीर' कुछ काम होगा 

Jigar Chaaki: heart torn; wounded; unrequited in love;
Nakaami: Failure; workless/useless affairs

After all the world's useless affairs causes heartbreak
If Meer didn't come, he must have had something useful to do.





Jin Ke Liye Apne To Yun Jaan Nikalte Hai


जिन के लिए अपने तो यूँ जान निकलते हैं
इस राह में वे जैसे अंजान निकलते हैं

क्या तीर-ए-सितम उस के सीने में भी टूटे थे
जिस ज़ख़्म को चीरूँ हूँ पैकान निकलते हैं

मत सहल हमें जानो फिरता है फ़लक बरसों
तब ख़ाक के पर्दे से इंसान निकलते हैं

किस का है क़िमाश ऐसा गूदड़ भरे हैं सारे
देखो न जो लोगों के दीवान निकलते हैं

गह लोहू टपकता है गह लख़्त-ए-दिल आँखों से
या टुकड़े जिगर ही के हर आन निकलते हैं

करिए तो गिला किस से जैसी थी हमें ख़्वाहिश
अब वैसे ही ये अपने अरमान निकलते हैं

जागह से भी जाते हो मुँह से भी ख़शिन हो कर
वे हर्फ़ नहीं हैं जो शायान निकलते हैं

सो काहे को अपनी तू जोगी की सी फेरी है
बरसों में कभू ईधर हम आन निकलते हैं

उन आईना-रूयों के क्या 'मीर' भी आशिक़ हैं
जब घर से निकलते हैं हैरान निकलते हैं
Bekhudi Le gayi kahaa.n humko - Mir Taqi Mir



बेख़ुदी ले गयी कहाँ हम को
देर से इंतज़ार है अपना

(बेख़ुदी = बेख़बरी, आत्मविस्मृति)

रोते फिरते हैं सारी-सारी रात
अब यही रोज़गार है अपना

दे के दिल हम जो हो गए मजबूर
इस में क्या इख़्तियार है अपना

(इख़्तियार = अधिकार, काबू, प्रभुत्व)

कुछ नही हम मिसाल-ए-अन्क़ा लेक
शहर-शहर इश्तेहार है अपना

(अन्क़ा  = फ़ारसी कविता का एक काल्पनिक पक्षी। इसे दु:साध्य और दुर्लभ के सन्दर्भ में प्रयुक्त किया है), (लेक = लेकिन)

जिस को तुम आसमान कहते हो
सो दिलों का ग़ुबार है अपना

-मीर तक़ी मीर
Ishq Main Ji Ko Sabr-o-taab kahaan - Mir Taqi Mir



Ishq me.n jii ko sabr-o-taab kahaa.n
us se aa.nkhe.n lagii.n to khvaab kahaa.n

bekalii dil hii kii tamaashaa hai
barq me.n aise izteraab kahaa.n

hastii apanii hai biichh me.n pardaa
ham na hove.n to phir hijaab kahaa.n

giriyaa-e-shab se surkh hai.n aa.nkhe.n
mujh balaa nosh ko sharaab kahaa.n

ishq hai aashiqo.n ko jalane ko
ye jahannum me.n hai azaab kahaa.n

mahv hai.n is kitaabii chehare ke
aashiqo.n ko sar-e-kitaab kahaa.n

ishq kaa ghar hai 'meer' se aabaad
aise phir khaanaamaa.n_kharaab kahaa.n


इश्क़ में जी को सब्र-ओ-ताब कहाँ
उस से आँखें लगीं तो ख़्वाब कहाँ

(सब्र-ओ-ताब = धैर्य और शक्ति)

हस्ती अपनी है बीच में पर्दा
हम न होवें तो फिर हिजाब कहाँ

(हस्ती = अस्तित्व, उपस्तिथि), (हिजाब = पर्दा)

इश्क़ है आशिक़ों के जलने को
ये जहन्नुम में है अज़ाब कहाँ

(जहन्नुम = नर्क), (अज़ाब = दुख, कष्ट, संकट)

गिरिया-ए-शब से सुर्ख़ हैं आँखें
मुझ बलानोश को शराब कहाँ

(गिरिया-ए-शब से = रात के रोने-धोने से), (बलानोश = महा पियक्कड़, घोर शराबी)

इश्क़ का घर है 'मीर' से आबाद
ऐसे फिर ख़ानमाँख़राब कहाँ

(ख़ानमाँख़राब = बरबाद)

-मीर तक़ी मीर
Gham usko Saari Raat Sunaya - Mir Taqi Mir



ग़म उस को सारी रात सुनाया तो क्या हुआ 
या रोज़ उठ के सर को फिराया तो क्या हुआ 

उन ने तो मुझ को झूटे भी पूछा न एक बार 
मैं ने उसे हज़ार जताया तो क्या हुआ 

ख़्वाहाँ नहीं वो क्यूँ ही मैं अपनी तरफ़ से यूँ 
दिल दे के उस के हाथ बिकाया तो क्या हुआ 

अब सई कर सिपहर कि मेरे मूए गए 
उस का मिज़ाज मेहर पे आया तो क्या हुआ 

मत रंजा कर किसी को कि अपने तो ए'तिक़ाद 
दिल ढाए कर जो का'बा बनाया तो क्या हुआ 

मैं सैद-ए-नातवाँ भी तुझे क्या करूँगा याद 
ज़ालिम इक और तीर लगाया तो क्या हुआ 

क्या क्या दुआएँ माँगी हैं ख़ल्वत में शैख़ यूँ 
ज़ाहिर जहाँ से हाथ उठाया तो क्या हुआ 

वो फ़िक्र कर कि चाक-ए-जिगर पावे इल्तियाम 
नासेह जो तू ने जामा सुलाया तो क्या हुआ 

जीते तो 'मीर' उन ने मुझे दाग़ ही रक्खा 
फिर गोर पर चराग़ जलाया तो क्या हुआ 

Life is like a Bubble -

I was reading Mir Taqi Mir's ghazal about life being like a bubble and remembered similar words from Guru Tegh Bahadur today.  Our time on Earth is fleeting and ephemeral, just like the fragile and temporary nature of soap bubbles. Bubbles are beautiful and captivating while they last, but they are also very fragile and can burst at any moment. Similarly, life can be filled with moments of beauty and joy, but it is also unpredictable and can end abruptly.

Just like a bubble, life can be full of vibrancy and color, reflecting the beauty and diversity of the world around us. But, like a bubble, life is also limited in its capacity and scope. Each individual life is unique and special, just like each bubble that floats in the air, but they are also fleeting and ultimately impermanent.

These poems for me are a reminder to live in the present moment and appreciate the beauty and wonder of life while it lasts. Just as a soap bubble is most beautiful when it is at its fullest and most vibrant, our lives are most meaningful when we are fully engaged in the present moment, appreciating the world around us and living our lives to the fullest.



Lyrics transliterated in English - Hasti Apni Habab Ki Si Hai

For translation and Hindi lyrics see below

hastī apnī habāb kī sī hai 
ye numā.ish sarāb kī sī hai 

My existence is like a bubble
This exhibition is a mirage. 

nāzukī us ke lab kī kyā kahiye 
pañkhuḌī ik gulāb kī sī hai 

chashm-e-dil khol is bhī aalam par 
yaañ kī auqāt ḳhvāb kī sī hai 

baar baar us ke dar pe jaatā huuñ 
hālat ab iztirāb kī sī hai 

nuqta-e-ḳhāl se tirā abrū 
bait ik intiḳhāb kī sī hai 

maiñ jo bolā kahā ki ye āvāz 
usī ḳhāna-ḳharāb kī sī hai 

ātish-e-ġham meñ dil bhunā shāyad 
der se bū kabāb kī sī hai 

dekhiye abr kī tarah ab ke 
merī chashm-e-pur-āb kī sī hai 

'mīr' un nīm-bāz āñkhoñ meñ 
saarī mastī sharāb kī sī hai

Translation - 9/22/20

My existence is like a bubble
this exhibition is a mirage.

The softness of her lips
Is like the petals of a rose.

Open your eyes to this world,
It’s condition is like a dream

I went to my love’s door again and again,
I am restless now again.

From your mole to your eyebrows,
It seems like a selected couplet in poetry.

When I spoke then they said
This is the same voice of ruin

Perhaps heart was roasted in grief’s fire
For long it smells like a kabab

Look this time like the clouds,
my eyes are full of water

'Mir' those half open eyes have,
all the intoxication of wine


Translation 1/19/24

Is this a bubble or my life?
Is this show a mirage?

Are these rose petals
or your lips?

Walking to your door again and again
or am I just crazy now?

Is this the sound of a cursed hound
or just me speaking?

Are those half lid eyes, Mir,
or a 100 proof shot?


Another Take 1/19/24 

my 
bubble life
a mirage show
my crazy walking
to your door again, again
and my cursed hound bark
to see your 100 proof eyes
and kiss your rose petal lips.

Translation by Raza Mir

Hasti Apni Hubaab Ki Si Hai
Ye numaaish saraab ki si hai


My Life, like a bubble, is transient
This show, like a mirage, evanescent

Naazuki us ke lab ki kya kahiye
Pankhudi ek gulaab ki si hai


Exquisite, those lips that lie in repose
Delicate as the petals of a rose

Baar baar us ke dar pe jaata hoon
Haalat ab iztiraab ki si hai

Again and again I go to that door
In a state of panic, need I say more?

Main jo bola kaha ke ye aawaaz
Usi khana-kharaab ki si hai


I spoke and everyone guessed that this sound
Belonged perhaps to that wretched, cursed hound

Mir, un neem-baaz aankhon mein
Saari masti sharaab ki si hai


Those half-lidded eyes of that love of mine
Mir, they bear all the headiness of wine

Source: The Taste of Words: An Introduction to Urdu Poetry. Edited and Translated by Raza Mir

Lyrics in Hindi


हस्ती अपनी हबाब की सी है 
ये नुमाइश सराब की सी है 

नाज़ुकी उस के लब की क्या कहिए 
पंखुड़ी इक गुलाब की सी है 

चश्म-ए-दिल खोल इस भी आलम पर 
याँ की औक़ात ख़्वाब की सी है 

बार बार उस के दर पे जाता हूँ 
हालत अब इज़्तिराब की सी है 

नुक़्ता-ए-ख़ाल से तिरा अबरू 
बैत इक इंतिख़ाब की सी है 

मैं जो बोला कहा कि ये आवाज़ 
उसी ख़ाना-ख़राब की सी है 

आतिश-ए-ग़म में दिल भुना शायद 
देर से बू कबाब की सी है 

देखिए अब्र की तरह अब के 
मेरी चश्म-ए-पुर-आब की सी है 

'मीर' उन नीम-बाज़ आँखों में 
सारी मस्ती शराब की सी है 

Gurbani on Life as a Bubble 

The bubble and dream related couplets remind me of Guru Tegh Bahadur’s shlokas:

Jio supnā ar pekẖnā aise jag kao jān.

In mai kacẖẖ sācẖo nahī Nānak bin bẖagvān. ||23||


Know this world is like a dream and a show. 

None of this is true, O Nanak, without God. ||23||


Jaise jal ṯe buḏbuḏā upjai binsai nīṯ.

Jag racẖnā ṯaise racẖī kaho Nānak sun mīṯ. ||25||


As the bubbles in the water well up and disappear again,

so is the universe created; says Nanak, listen, O my friend! ||25||



English Poetry Using the Bubble Metaphor


The metaphor of life being like a bubble is a common one in English literature as well and has been used in various poems throughout history. Here are a few examples:


"The Bubbles of the Foam" by Emily Bronte:

In this poem, Bronte compares life to the fleeting bubbles of foam on a river, emphasizing how quickly life passes and how easily it can be forgotten:


"Down the dimpled, dancing river,

With a rippling, shining motion,

With a whirlpool's leaping fury,

And a flashing, foam-born notion!

Life, like bubbles on the river,

Sparkling, changing, born and dying,

Lulled awhile from its wild motion,

Glitters, quivers, and goes flying."


"A Bubble" by Robert Frost:

In this short but powerful poem, Frost uses the metaphor of a bubble to represent the fragility and impermanence of life:


"A winter day

In a deep and dark December;

I am alone,

Gazing from my window to the streets

Below

On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.

I am a bubble,

An iridescent bubble,

Caught in a frozen web

Between the sun and moon."


"Life's Bubble" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox:

Wilcox's poem uses the bubble metaphor to emphasize the importance of living life to the fullest, as the bubble can burst at any moment:


"Life is but a bubble,

Fraught with every hue,

Born to shine and sparkle,

For a moment's view.

Then it bursts forever,

Leaving but a drop,

Its unbounded brightness

Blighted in a stop."

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SHIVPREET SINGH

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