Shivpreet Singh
Shivpreet Singh
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Lyrics: Chand ke sath kayee dard purane nikale

By Amjad Islam Amjad

Chand ke sath kayee dard purane nikale
Kitne gam the jo tere gam ke bahane nikale

Fasle gul aayee phir ik bar aseerane wafa
Apane hee khun ke dariya me nahane nikale

Dil ne ik int se tamir kiya taj mahal
Tune ik bat kahee lakh fasane nikale

Dashte tanahayi-e-hijran me khada sochata hu
Hay kya log meraa sath nibhane nikale

Translation 1: Came


As the moon rose, within my mind many pains came 
Using your pain as excuses many other pains came.

In the garden of loyalty, many flowers bloom
To bathe in my own blood's sea, I came.

One heart used bricks to build Taj Mahal,
One word from you came, and many stories came.

After separation I think in the desert of solitude
To give me company, what kind of people came?

Translation 2: Came


So many pains came with the moon
So many pains came using your pain as an excuse

Flowers are blooming again in the garden of loyalty
I came to bathe in my own blood

One Taj mahal was created with bricks
You said one word and so many stories came out

After separation I stand alone in the desert of solitude and think
Alas! what kind of people came to give me company?

Lyrics in Hindi


चाँद के साथ कई दर्द पुराने निकले
कितने ग़म थे जो तेरे ग़म के बहाने निकले

फ़स्ल-ए-गुल आई फिर इक बार असिरान-ए-वफ़ा
अपने ही ख़ून के दरिया में नहाने निकले

(फ़स्ल-ए-गुल = बसंत ऋतु, बहार का मौसम), (असिरान-ए-वफ़ा = वफ़ा के क़ैदी, वफ़ादार लोग, वफ़ा निभाने वाले)

दिल ने एक ईटं से तामीर किया ताज-महल
तूने इक बात कही लाख़ फ़साने निकले

(तामीर = निर्माण, बनाना, मकान बनाने का काम)

दश्त-ए-तन्हाई-ए-हिज्रा में खड़ा सोचता हूँ
हाय क्या लोग मेरा साथ निभाने निकले

(दश्त-ए-तन्हाई-ए-हिज्रा में = जुदाई के अकेलेपन के जंगल में)

-अमजद इस्लाम अमजद


इसी ग़ज़ल के कुछ और अश'आर:


हिज्र कि चोट अजब संग-शिकन होती है
दिल की बेफ़ैज़ ज़मीनों से ख़ज़ाने निकले

(हिज्र = जुदाई), (संग = पत्थर), (बेफ़ैज़ = जिससे किसी को लाभ न हो, कँजूस)

उम्र गुज़री है शब-ए-तार में आँखें मलते
किस उफ़क़ से मेरा ख़ुर्शीद ना जाने निकले

(शब-ए-तार = अँधेरी रात), (उफ़क़ = क्षितिज), (ख़ुर्शीद = सूरज)

कू-ए-क़ातिल में चले जैसे शहीदों का जुलूस
ख़्वाब यूँ भीगती आँखों को सजाने निकले

(कू-ए-क़ातिल = क़ातिल की गली)

मैंने 'अमजद' उसे बेवास्ता देखा ही नहीं
वो तो ख़ुश्बू में भी आहट के बहाने निकले

(बेवास्ता = बिना कारण)
I am thankful for your request. I am not sure I can fulfill all of them, however, I do look at them and will keep them in mind in the future. Please leave it in the comments at the bottom of this page. If it is on this page, it will be on my list. 

Yesterday I made a new composition in response to a request that one of my best friends in high school made 10 years ago.  Sometimes it can happen in weeks or even in days. It depends on where the inspiration comes from. 

The following request was fulfilled within a day of someone sending it to me, but this happens very very rarely:

First the poem, and them some of my thoughts. 



In the Library
Charles Simic

There’s a book called
A Dictionary of Angels.
No one had opened it in fifty years,
I know, because when I did,
The covers creaked, the pages
Crumbled. There I discovered

The angels were once as plentiful
As species of flies.
The sky at dusk
Used to be thick with them.
You had to wave both arms
Just to keep them away.

Now the sun is shining
Through the tall windows.
The library is a quiet place.
Angels and gods huddled
In dark unopened books.
The great secret lies
On some shelf Miss Jones
Passes every day on her rounds.

She’s very tall, so she keeps
Her head tipped as if listening.
The books are whispering.
I hear nothing, but she does.

Ruminating about In the Library 


Angels. While they used to ubiquitous, just like flies are now. And nowadays angels and gods only live "huddled in dark unopened books." Dark, I guess because they are not opened. They hold the secrets. Not just any secret, great secrets.  Most people have to go out of their way, open these books, to discover these angels.  I wonder if words are the angels. Whoever they are, Miss Jones -- the librarian I assume -- can hear them. True lovers, the caretakers, the librarians, tall in stature with bent heads because of their humility, can hear the whispering angels. 

The books are whispering. Do you hear them? I guess you have to be making rounds, be tall, and keep your head tipped to hear them. I guess there is magic in books like there is in chanting.

Waheguru 30 minute Meditation - Shivpreet Singh

Analysis from the Carmellite Library


Once we have forgiven Charles Simic for his stereotyping of librarians we consider some of the better implications of his poem. We have all come across books that we gaze at with puzzled wonder. What kind of book is this? Who would have read this book? Why was it written? Who would take the time to write it? The very existence of the book in hand tells us that a whole range of real people worked carefully to prepare the text, set the type, produce the item, distribute and promote it. A librarian with sensitivities will occasionally have pangs of guilt or second thoughts about culling such books. Their rarity stops us in our tracks, the purpose of their very existence is not to be denied. “A Dictionary of Angels” would stay where it was parked because angelology is a genuine if under-attended subject of theology. Books on angels have a permanent shelf life in this Library. To have records of named angels is essential in getting to know the minds of other generations, whatever our own definition of an angel. Scripture and Talmud would be missing something were angels to be deleted. Students of angels would probably take exception to the second verse of the poem, where Simic wishes to relegate angels to the past: this is not something that makes sense if they are part of the heavenly realm. He also indulges in comic or far-fetched descriptions of angels that bear really no resemblance to their appearances in Scripture and elsewhere in Judaic, Christian and Muslim tradition.  More riskily, in fact it’s heretical methinks, the poet seems to imply that angels only exist today in books. The rabbis would have had something to say about this strange idea, not to mention the shepherds watching over their flocks by night. As it is, we should leave encounters with angels to those who have something to say. The poem’s purpose, however, is not to deny angels, rather to get us to listen to the ‘whispering’ in the books, and even if we cannot hear anything, to pay attention to those who can hear the ‘whispering’. The materiality of the book itself may fall apart yet there are presences everywhere. Their own existence in time is telling us of other existences and other experiences than our own. We must cull with a discerning eye, but also with extra senses of the kind possessed by Miss Jones.   

On Charles Simic


Charles was born on 1938 in Belgrade Yugolasvia but migrated to the United States when he was around fifteen years old and earned his Bachelor’s degree from New York University. He has published 60 books of poems and won a number of awards such as the Pulitzer Prize in 1990, the International Griffin Poetry Prize for Selected Poems in 2005 and the Wallace Stevens Award from the Academy of American Poets in 2008 (source here). He was also appointed the fifteenth Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry in 2007, an award which he cherished greatly because according to Simic: “I am especially touched and honored to be selected because I am an immigrant boy who didn’t speak English until I was 15” (source here). I thought that was quite inspiring. Here is the poem that caught me, and I hope it will do the same to you. I am glad that our new theme has introduced me to this wonderful poet.

Allen Ginsberg's Sunflower Sutra reminds me of the buddhist Lotus Sutra. Both these flowers grow among the filth. But while the Lotus never forgets, the sunflower forgets, just like us.  "We’re all golden sunflowers inside," old and battered, forgetful and wilted, dead gray shadow against the sky, among the ancient sawdust, but still redeemable.  This sutra is a more realistic version of the ancient Lotus sutra.

It's a beautiful meditation similar to the Lotus Sutra (also below).

Sunflower Sutra - A poem by Allen Ginsberg


Sunflower Sutra
by Allen Ginsberg

I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look for the sunset over the box house hills and cry.

Jack Kerouac sat beside me on a busted rusty iron pole, companion, we thought the same thoughts of the soul, bleak and blue and sad-eyed, surrounded by the gnarled steel roots of trees of machinery.

The only water on the river mirrored the red sky, sun sank on top of final Frisco peaks, no fish in that stream, no hermit in those mounts, just ourselves rheumy-eyed and hung-over like old bums on the riverbank, tired and wily.

Look at the Sunflower, he said, there was a dead gray shadow against the sky, big as a man, sitting dry on top of a pile of ancient sawdust–

–I rushed up enchanted–it was my first sunflower, memories of Blake–my visions–Harlem

and Hells of the Eastern rivers, bridges clanking Joes greasy Sandwiches, dead baby carriages, black treadless tires forgotten and unretreaded, the poem of the riverbank, condoms & pots, steel knives, nothing stainless, only the dank muck and the razor-sharp artifacts passing into the past–

and the gray Sunflower poised against the sunset, crackly bleak and dusty with the smut and smog and smoke of olden locomotives in its eye–

corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken like a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face, soon-to-be-toothless mouth of sunny air, sunrays obliterated on its hairy head like a dried wire spiderweb,

leaves stuck out like arms out of the stem, gestures from the sawdust root, broke pieces of plaster fallen out of the black twigs, a dead fly in its ear,

Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, I loved you then!

The grime was no man’s grime but death and human locomotives,

all that dress of dust, that veil of darkened railroad skin, that smog of cheek, that eyelid of black mis'ry, that sooty hand or phallus or protuberance of artificial worse-than-dirt–industrial– modern–all that civilization spotting your crazy golden crown–

and those blear thoughts of death and dusty loveless eyes and ends and withered roots below, in the home-pile of sand and sawdust, rubber dollar bills, skin of machinery, the guts and innards of the weeping coughing car, the empty lonely tincans with their rusty tongues alack, what more could I name, the smoked ashes of some cock cigar, the cunts of wheelbarrows and the milky breasts of cars, wornout asses out of chairs & sphincters of dynamos–all these

entangled in your mummied roots–and you standing before me in the sunset, all your glory in your form!

A perfect beauty of a sunflower! a perfect excellent lovely sunflower existence! a sweet natural eye to the new hip moon, woke up alive and excited grasping in the sunset shadow sunrise golden monthly breeze!

How many flies buzzed round you innocent of your grime, while you cursed the heavens of your railroad and your flower soul?

Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a flower? when did you look at your skin and decide you were an impotent dirty old locomotive? the ghost of a locomotive? the specter and shade of a once powerful mad American locomotive?

You were never no locomotive, Sunflower, you were a sunflower!

And you Locomotive, you are a locomotive, forget me not!

So I grabbed up the skeleton thick sunflower and stuck it at my side like a scepter,

and deliver my sermon to my soul, and Jack’s soul too, and anyone who’ll listen,

–We’re not our skin of grime, we’re not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we’re all golden sunflowers inside, blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision.


More: https://www.gradesaver.com/allen-ginsbergs-poetry/study-guide/summary-sunflower-sutra

Lotus Sutra


What is the Lotus Sutra from https://www.nichiren.or.jp/english/teachings/sutra/

The Lotus Sutra is one of the most important sutras in Mahayana Buddhism and was likely written down between 100 B.C. and 200 A.D. Already well known in India, the sutra became more famous and influential when it was translated into Chinese by Kumarajiva in the year 406. After Chih-i founded the T’ien-T’ai School in China, based on the teaching expounded by this sutra in the sixth century, it was considered one of the canonical sutras of Chinese Buddhism. After the T’ien-T’ai School of China was introduced to Japan by Saicho and became the Tendai Sect, the Lotus Sutra became loved as literature among the people.

The sutra is named the Lotus Sutra because the lotus symbolized the oneness of cause and effect, specifically the cause of aspiring to enlightenment (Buddhahood) and the effect of attaining it, since the lotus is a flower that blooms and seeds at the same time. It also symbolizes the purity of Buddhahood, blooming in the midst of our ordinary lives just as the lotus blossoms in muddy pond water.
First the poem, then my commentary as well as a couple of other analyses. 

O Me! O Life!
Walt Whitman


Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

- Walt Whitman

Whitman Confirms The purpose of life is to sing

It was not me who created this song. I am just adding a verse to it. There are so many recurring entities -people.  Most of them are faithless and foolish. Of them, the most faithless and foolish is singer himself, Whitman himself. All of them have so many questions that arise from life.  All of them crave their own light, which they think is important. All of them struggle and plod amongst each other in crowds. What good are these questions and struggles? What makes this life worth living is that we can fulfill a purpose. Each person gets an identity for this purpose.  And each of these identities can then contribute a verse to the universal song. Each of us is a verse contributing to the song that is the universe. The purpose of life is indeed to sing!

Reminds me of Guru Arjan's Saranjaam Laag:


 

Oh me! Oh life! - A reading by interestingliterature.com

https://interestingliterature.com/

One of the shortest of Walt Whitman’s great poems, ‘O Me! O Life!’ was featured in the 1989 film Dead Poets Society: Robin Williams’s character recites it to his class. ‘O Me! O Life!’ contains many of the features of Walt Whitman’s greatest poetry: the free verse rhythm, the alternation between long and short lines, the rhetorical (or not-so-rhetorical?) questions, the focus on the self. Before we offer a fuller analysis of the poem, here’s a reminder of ‘O Me! O Life!’.

O Me! O Life!


Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

In summary, ‘O Me! O Life!’ sees Whitman despairing about life, but also, by association, about himself. Whitman was among the most generous-spirited poets of the nineteenth century, and his work shows a refusal to see himself as superior to, or separate from, the world around him. ‘O Me! O Life!’ is an excellent (short) demonstration of this abundance of self-awareness.

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)


In his pioneeringly exuberant and Psalmic free-verse style, Whitman begins by lamenting the various causes for perplexity that he has: the many faithless people (both those without a faith in something, and those who one cannot have faith in, i.e. the unfaithful, liars and cheats?), the cities full of foolish people, and even himself – he perplexes and worries himself because he is always chastising himself for being one of the foolish and faithless, and indeed, one of the worst offenders…

Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,

More attention to the crowd here, the city filled with people, just going through their daily routine (‘plodding’) and low, immoral, and dirty lives they lead (‘sordid’). Life, in summary, is a vain struggle.

Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Is Whitman alluding to retirement in his reference to ‘the empty and useless years of the rest’ – i.e. the ‘rest’ or remainder of one’s life when one has left the bustling crowds, and the ‘plodding’ world of work? Of course, retirement is also a ‘rest’ of another sort. But no: ‘rest’ predominantly refers to the ‘rest’ of the population – those who don’t work and aren’t part of the crowd, or even perhaps, part of a functioning society.


 Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

Whitman ends ‘O Me! O Life!’ with a defiant and jubilant answer: the worth of life lies precisely in life: in the fact that we are here, alive, and have the chance to contribute in some small way to the sum of human endeavour and happiness. For Whitman, he can contribute a ‘verse’ to the world, but ‘verse’ here can be taken as a metaphor for any small contribution made to the world: a painting, a piece of music, being a good teacher of young minds, helping others.

Oh me! Oh life! - A reading by gradesaver.com


Whitman writes in his signature free verse with very little formal structure and no rhyme scheme. There are two stanzas: the first one has seven lines, and the second, starting with the simple first line "Answer" contains three lines. In the first stanza, Whitman employs anaphora, repeating the word "of" at the beginning of each line. This repetition puts the reader inside the speaker's head so he or she can experience the poem as a stream of consciousness. The title, "O me! O life!" actually summarizes the poet's entire conflict: he questions his own purpose (O me!) and wonders why life can be so cruel (O life!).

The "question" and "answer" format of the poem allows for Whitman to make an unusual and unexpected choice. While readers might expect the poem to be a sorrowful lament (as many poems are), the poet answers his own question. Whitman uses the second stanza's "Answer" as a way of expressing his own perspective on the meaning of life. He imparts his belief that human life is sacred, and that human beings must appreciate what they have. Although this poem starts out with an eternally elusive question, Whitman chooses to combat his own feelings of helplessness and futility by offering an answer. Instead of letting his lament linger, he uses the opportunity to remind readers (and himself) that the purpose of life is to live.

Whitman chooses specific images to represent hopelessness in this poem. Both "trains of the faithless" and "cities fill'd with the foolish" evoke the themes of modernization and industrialization. The 1800s were full of new innovations that modernized society, so Whitman was writing against the backdrop of a rapidly changing world. He acknowledges that in the context of rapid development and human achievement, it is easy for human beings to feel useless, inadequate, and ultimately, disappointed with their lives. Whitman admits to feeling this way himself - in fact, his lack of condescension here makes his work highly relatable. He does not offer instructions to fix the problem, but rather, he asks his reader to stop and realize that he or she is contributing to humanity simply by being alive.

Whitman chooses a powerful metaphor in the last line that is essential to understanding the poem. He refers to civilization as "powerful play," and insists that each person will "contribute a verse." In this image, Whitman is able to communicate his democratic beliefs (as each person contributes equally) as well as emphasize the importance of art and human expression. This concrete metaphor also allows Whitman to ground his existential philosophy in a relatable context.


Pondering upon the question "Who am I?" And what am I doing on this earth? Is there purpose to our lives?  Am I just this body or is there more to me? Have you pondered about the definition of your identity?  A better sense of self can be attained through an understanding of oneness. A better sense of identity can be found by singing the words of the wise. The following is a list of poems and words that have helped me immensely. 

Tony Hoagland: Some questions have no answer

"We are what is missing from the world"
     -Fernando Pessoa

Some questions have no answer.
Raised, they hang there in the mind
Like open mouths, full of something missing.

Emily Dickinson: I am nobody


There are some who would say we are nothing.  See Emily Dickinson's I am nobody.  
I'm nobody! Who are you?Are you nobody, too?

 

Alan Watts

You are something the whole universe is doing in the same way that a wave is something that the whole ocean is doing.

The real you is not a puppet which life pushes around.

The real, deep down you is the whole universe.


Walt Whitman: What am I? What are you?

What is a man anyhow? what am I? what are you? ...
In all people I see myself, none more and not one a barley-corn less, And the good or bad I say of myself I say of them.
I know I am solid and sound, To me the converging objects of the universe perpetually flow, All are written to me, and I must get what the writing means.
I know I am deathless, I know this orbit of mine cannot be swept by a carpenter's compass, I know I shall not pass like a child's carlacue cut with a burnt stick at night.

Bhagat Ravidas: I am you, you are me


Bhagat Ravidas sees himself in everyone as in his poem Mohi Tohi, Tohi Mohi, "I am you, you are me". He adds: 
We are like waves and the sea
I am you, and you are me

Bulleh Shah: Who knows who I am


Bulla Ki Jaana Main Kaun
Bulla Who knows who I am

But one of the poems that comes closest to the essence of the "question" is Bulleh Shah's poem "Bulla ki jaana main kaun" where he says "Who knows who I am?" Bulleh shah accepts the strangeness in the world. 

Vedanta: Neti Neti - Not this not that

In Brhadaranyaka Upanishad, Yajnavalkya is questioned by his students to describe God. He states "The Divine is not this and it is not that" (neti, neti).  The self is the same. Not this not that. More on Neti Neti. 


Shaad Azeemabadi: You can't find me; I am rare. 


In the ghazal Dhoondoge Agar Mulkon Mulkon by Shaad Azeemabadi showcases the journey of a lover to self discovery which starts thus: 

Dhoondo Ge Agar Mulkon Mulkon
Milne Ke Nahin Nayaab Hain Hum
Tabeer Hai Jiski Hasrat-O-Gham
Aye Humnafaso Woh Khwaab Hain Hum

Even if you search from nation to nation 
You won’t find me, for I’m a rare jewel.
With a willingness to handle grief and sorrow, 
O friends! I am an embodiment of that dream.

I am not I - Juan Ramon Jimenez

“I Am Not I”
BY JUAN RAMÓN JIMÉNEZ
TRANSLATED BY ROBERT BLY

I am not I.
                   I am this one
walking beside me whom I do not see,
whom at times I manage to visit,
and whom at other times I forget;
who remains calm and silent while I talk,
and forgives, gently, when I hate,
who walks where I am not,
who will remain standing when I die.

Carl Sagan


Our Sun is a second- or third-generation star. All of the rocky and metallic material we stand on, the iron in our blood, the calcium in our teeth, the carbon in our genes were produced billions of years ago in the interior of a red giant star. We are made of star-stuff.

Pondering upon this: 

How to answer the who am I question: 

How many times have you asked yourself this question?

How many times have you questioned why you’re supposed to be on this earth?

How many times have you questioned your very existence?

For me, the answer is countless times. 

And the question itself makes me ask more questions: can I ever know who I am? Why do I need to know who I am? Will any answer ever satisfy me?

When these questions overwhelm me, I find myself inspired by this quote by Indian sage,  Ramana Maharshi:

“The question, ‘who am I?’ is not really meant to get an answer, the question ‘who am I?’ is meant to dissolve the questioner.”

Whoa. Dissolve the questioner. What does that even mean?

How can dissolving my identity help me figure out who I am?

Let’s try and find out.

Who am I = what is my identity?
The “answer” to “who am I” is our identity.

Our identity is our all-encompassing system of memories, experience, feelings, thoughts, relationships, and values that define who each of us is.

It’s the stuff that makes up a “self.”


Identity is a critical component of understanding who we are. Why? Because we can break up identity into components (values, experiences, relationship).

These components we can identify and understand. Then, once we have understood the components of our identity, we can get a big-picture look at who we really are.

In a nutshell: we’re a lot more than one thing. We’re a whole system of ideas and experiences.

Our need for identity
“Who am I?” gets at the heart of one of our most basic needs: our need for identiy. 

We, as living beings, search for and find comfort in a solid sense of identity. It grounds us. It gives us confidence. And our sense of identity affects every single thing in our lives – from the choices we make to the values we live by.

According to Shahram Heshmat Ph.D., author of Science of Choice:

“Identity relates to our basic values that dictate the choices we make (e.g., relationships, career). These choices reflect who we are and what we value.”

Wow. Our identities are almost avatars for the values and tenets that we hold. Our identity is a reflection of what we believe, what we do, and what we value.

Powerful stuff.

Yet, our sense of identity can be compromised by outside factors.


How is that possible? Well, Dr. Heshmat explains:

“Few people choose their identities. Instead, they simply internalize the values of their parents or the dominant cultures (e.g., pursuit of materialism, power, and appearance). Sadly, these values may not be aligned with one’s authentic self and create unfulfilling life.”

Oof. This is what can cause problems.

Here’s the painful truth: much of our identity was forced upon us. This inorganic identity causes us to experience a tremendous amount of stress.

Why?

Because we know that “that identity” is false. It’s something demanded of us.

The problem is, we don’t know what our “organic” identity is.

And that’s why we ask, “who am I?”

The roles we play
To make things harder on ourselves, we each have multiple identities – sons, daughters, parents, friends.

We basically split and compartmentalize our identites into “roles.” And we perform these “roles” in different circumstances.

Each role, to quote Dr. Heshmat, has “its own meanings and expectations that are internalized as identity.”


Basically, when we perform these roles, we internalize them as if they were our real identites.

We’re all actors, taking on a dozen roles. Except the problem is, we’ve tricked ourselves into believing these roles are real.

This conflict, coupled with the need to find our authentic self, is the cause of much of our unhappiness. This conflict is called “identity struggle.”

“Often, in the face of identity struggle, many end up adopting darker identities, such as drug abuse, compulsive shopper, or gambling, as a compensatory method of experiencing aliveness or staving off depression and meaninglessness.”

Struggling to figure out who we are can have grave side effects. That’s why it is important to discover the answer to the question “who am I?” Because the alternative is “depression and meaninglessness.”

On the upside, people who have successfully found their authentic selves are shown to be far happier and more content. This is because they are “able to live a life true to their values and pursue meaningful goals.”

But how can you figure out who you really are?

How can you separate your true identity from the one given to you by your family and what was shaped by society?

How can I figure out “who I am?”
Clearly, it’s critical to discover who you are. When you are firm in your identity, your life is more meaningful, joyful, and purpuseful.


We have found that there are 5 key steps you can take to help answer the question “who am I?”

These steps are backed by experts, and will help you firm up your identity so that you can live a life full of purpose.

Here are 5 ways to help answer the question, “who am I?”

1. Reflect
To quote the King of Pop, “I’m starting with the man in the mirror.”

And this advice rings true. You need to reflect upon yourself whenever you are engaging in self-discovery.

This means that you have to examine yourself — for all your strengths, flaws, impressions you give others, the whole lot.

You have to critically engage with the reflection you present.

Think of it like this:

“The first step, perhaps, is to take stock. Who are you? When you buy a house and prepare to live in it, you hire an inspector to list all its faults–as it is, in reality, now, not as you wish it could be. You’ll even pay him for the bad news. You need to know. You need to discover the home’s hidden flaws. You need to know whether they are cosmetic imperfections or structural inadequacies. You need to know because you can’t fix something if you don’t know it’s broken–and you’re broken. You need an inspector. The internal critic–it could play that role, if you could get it on track; if you and it could cooperate.”

– Dr. Jordan B. Peterson

You have to be your own inspector. You have to look at your whole self as the house, and get down deep to that foundation.


Ask yourself, who are you right now? What are your strengths? Your flaws?

Do you like who you see in the mirror?

Do you think that “who you are” doesn’t match “who you see?”

How does that make you feel?

Identify which areas of your life you are unhappy about. Look at what you think could be better – mentally, emotionally, and physically.

Don’t go rush and slap band-aids all over the issues. This step isn’t about quick fixes. It’s not even about changing anything.

Instead, it’s about sitting with yourself — ups and downs — and understanding where you are.

Once you have a good grasp on yourself, then you can move on to step two.

2. Decide who you want to be
You can never be a perfect person. There’s no such thing as a perfect person. You have to embrace the fact that you will never be perfect.

But, on the path to self-discovery, you should embrace that there are things you want to improve.

And improvement is possible!

So, for step two, what you need to do is identify who you want to become.

And be honest with yourself about what’s possible. Being Superman isn’t what we’re after.

Let’s take a page out of Dr. Jordan B. Peterson’s international bestselling book, 12 Rules For Life:


“Start with yourself. Take care with yourself. Refine your personality. Choose your destination and articulate your Being.”

Who is your ideal person? Is it someone kind, strong, intelligent, brave? Is it a person who isn’t afraid of a challenge? Is it a person who can open herself up to love?

Whoever this dream person is, define them. Define who you want to become. That’s step two.

3. Make better choices
Make better choices… for yourself.

The truth is, most of us are programmed to make choices out of fear. We instinctively make an easy choice based on anxiety, desire to please, or because we don’t want to put in the effort.

These choices only do one thing: continue the status quo.

And if you’re not happy with who you are, with your current status quo, then these choices do nothing to help you.

Those choices, then, are the bad choices. 

But you can choose better for yourself. You can make “active decisions.”

Take if from clinical psychologist Marcia Reynolds

“Choice means you are free to do or not do something because you decided on your own.

“To activate conscious choice, you first have to do some work to determine what really matters to you. What strengths are you proud of? What tasks do you most enjoy? What dreams keep haunting you? What would you do if you had no obligations or people to please? Take time to sort through your desires.”

Once you know what you want, and once you know who you want to be; you can take the time to make active, conscious choices that help you be better. 


What are these choices like?

Well, let’s say that your dream version of yourself is a marathoner. That active choice means choosing to get off the couch, lace up those shoes, and hit the pavement.

Maybe you want to go back to school and graduate college. That means choosing to complete applications, choosing to ask for recommendation letters, and choosing to study.

Once you make decisions that are in line with your values and what you want, you’ll start feeling empowered to find out your true identity.

4. Explore your passions
One of the best parts about discovering the answer to “who am I,” is figuring out parts of yourself you never knew about.

Sure, you’ve figured out who you “want to be” and you’ve done a great job “looking in the mirror,” but there’s always going to be parts of you that are hidden away.

And it’s your job to discover them.

One of the best ways to help discover yourself is to explore your passions.

When you engage in things you are passionate about, you stimulate creative energies. If you’re passionate about sewing, go out and sew! The more that you sew, you’ll begin to see yourself as a “sewer,” even perhaps a master of your craft. This exploration will give you confidence and expertise, which helps positively ground your sense of identity.

But what if I don’t know what I’m passionate about
When your identity has been built by society’s expectations, it’s natural that you might not know what youre really passionate about. That’s ok!


But if you haven’t, don’t go looking for it. Instead, develop it.

“What? How am I supposed to develop something if I don’t even have it?”

Hear me out: take a listen to Terri Trespicio’s 2015 TED Talk, Stop Searching For Your Passion.

“Passion is not a job, a sport or a hobby. It is the full force of your attention and energy that you give to whatever is right in front of you. And if you’re so busy looking for this passion, you could miss opportunities that change your life.”

If you don’t know what your passion is, don’t freak out. It’s not like it’s “the one,” and if you can’t find it, you’ll miss out on your life. Instead, try your hand at hobbies and projects that are available to you right now. 

The backyard looks a little weedy? Try mulching the beds, plant some flowers. Maybe you’ll realize you have a passion for gardening.

Maybe you won’t. But that’s ok. It’s all about exploration. You need to explore the possibilities for growth.

Developing a growth mindset is a key component of exploring your passions. Along the way, you’ll figure out who you are. If you’re looking for some inspiring in developing the growth mindset, check out these growth mindset quotes.


5. Develop your social circle
Humans are social beings by nature. So much of our identity is shaped by our friends and family.


When you work to figure out “who you really are,” you have to actively create your social circle.

This means choosing who you want to hang out with. It means choosing who to let in, and who to cut loose.

it’s crucial you find people who are aligned with your values and identity.

Author and life coach Mike Bundrant explains:

“When you understand what’s most important to you in life – your life values – you can clarify who you are by choosing your social circles based on compatible values. You can have great clarity in your relationships, too, as you see yourself reflected in the people around you.”

They always say you can judge a man by the company he keeps.

This is very true. You can judge yourself by the people you hang out with.

If you’re hoping to develop yourself as a person, look at the friend group you have. Are they pushing you forward or holding you back?

Your identity is an ongoing process
The task of finding out who you are isn’t an easy one.

It’s probably one of the hardest things you’ll ever take on.

One of the worst things you can do (during this process) is to put pressure on yourself to figure it out right away.

Discovering your identity is a journey, not an ending.

When we race to the finish line, we forget the value of the growth process.

Identity isn’t a static term. Why should it be? We’re constantly growing, changing, evolving. We have trillions of cells in our body that live and die all the time.

We’re dynamic! Our identities must be dynamic too!

Psychotherapist and author of A Shift Of Mind, Mel Schwartz believes that we should look at our identities as an evolution of ourselves.

“Our identity should be seen as an ongoing process. Rather than a static snapshot, we should embrace a flowing sense of self, whereby we are perpetually re-framing, re-organizing, re-thinking and re-considering ourselves.

“How different would life be if rather than asking who am I, we contemplated how we’d like to engage life?”

When you embrace that your identity is dynamic, you take a lot of pressure off of yourself to pin down exactly who you are. Relax! You’re you. You know what you value, what you like, and what you want to be. You got the basics down! If those change, that’s ok. Start back over from step one.

Don’t be afraid of growth.

Positive disintegration
Growth comes at a cost. When you figure out who you truly are, you have to rid yourself of the parts of you that aren’t honest.

So how do you go through such a complicated process? When you have to shed off parts of yourself to become who you really are, it may feel like you’re tugging yourself in two.

Ripping yourself in two can be scary, right? There’s fear that you could be throwing away a valid part of yourself — a part of yourself that you’ve held onto for far too long.

But, you have to remember, that isn’t you.

We have to embrace our ability to change, evolve, and become better.

We have to engage in Positive Disintegration. 

“The goal then is to access that potential, keeping the parts of our identity that continue to serve us well and shedding the old, habitual pieces that constrain us. This process is known as positive disintegration. This permits us to find balance between the extremes previously discussed and enter into a relationship with self that commits to our personal evolution.”

You have to let go of the things that are holding you back. You have to trust that you’re doing the right thing by shedding the parts of you that aren’t you. 

I promise you, you’re not going to miss the false you.

Instead, you’ll be excited to finally meet and accept yourself.

Takeaway
This much is clear: discovering who you are is a never-ending journey.

Like the universe, you are never in the same state. You will always change, evolve, grow.

Why do we get so caught up with our definition of identity?

It’s because we all crave for the same things: happiness, peace, and success.

Without finding out who you are, you feel like you’ll never come close to any of it.

So in your journey of self-discovery, remember to take a step back and reflect on yourself:

“Am I making decisions based on my own values? Am I who I want to be?”

Once you have reflected upon yourself, and discovered who you want to be, you can engage in the process of pushing yourself forward through active choosing, exploration, and positive disintigration to finally make yourself the person you always hoped you’d become.

And in the process, you’ll discover the answer to the question “who am I?”

“I am me.”

Ah kindness and its limitations! Reading Jane Hirshfield's "Today, When I could do nothing" once again. I am posting the poem and then some of my thoughts on it below. 




Today, When I Could Do Nothing

Today, when I could do nothing,
I saved an ant.

It must have come in with the morning paper,
still being delivered
to those who shelter in place.

A morning paper is still an essential service.

I am not an essential service.

I have coffee and books,
time,
a garden,
silence enough to fill cisterns.

It must have first walked
the morning paper, as if loosened ink
taking the shape of an ant.

Then across the laptop computer — warm —
then onto the back of a cushion.

Small black ant, alone,
crossing a navy cushion,
moving steadily because that is what it could do.

Set outside in the sun,
it could not have found again its nest.
What then did I save?

It did not move as if it was frightened,
even while walking my hand,
which moved it through swiftness and air.

Ant, alone, without companions,
whose ant-heart I could not fathom—
how is your life, I wanted to ask.

I lifted it, took it outside.

This first day when I could do nothing,
contribute nothing
beyond staying distant from my own kind,
I did this.

My Thoughts


In the song Phulko aakha ma says “let me never kill an ant by unknowingly walking on it.” I find it endearing that in their vast compassion Buddhists find saving ants important. But Jane Hirshfield questions if actively saving an ant is a useful act. 

We think we are saving ants. And that trivial pursuit may make us proud. But, actually are we in control? We had other important things to do; but because everything was shut down we needed to do something kind. So we save an ant that was crawling on the couch. We picked it up and dropped it outside.  However, we then realize, that we didn't really save the ant. The ant is as alone outside as it was  inside. He will not find his family again.  He will be alone and likely die alone.  What then did we save? Was this compassion useless?

“I know that heaven does not exist,” says Mirza Ghalib in his famous ghazal. “But it is a still great way to keep your heart happy.” When we think we are being kind, when we give ourselves the credit, is the compassion useful?  In any case, I think I'll leave saving ants to Jane, and I'll take a few cisterns of silence to fill my singing. 

The purpose of life is to sing!
John Lennon sings, "All you need is love/Love is all you need" and Allen Ginsberg agrees in his own way: "The weight of the world is love."  Why we are alone sometimes, and why we are dissatisfied at other times is because love is weighing.  It burdens us in dreams, and in thoughts when we are awake.  If we do not have love, we are restless.  We can rest and sleep only once we have love.  In that, it is indeed the final wish.  It is the ultimate desire -- the penultimate weight.  "I wanted/I always wanted/I always wanted" repeats Allen Ginsberg in the end of the poem to emphasize this ultimate desire. The soul comes back into the body and is fulfilled with love; until then it keeps wandering. Only once it comes back home, it is satisfied. 



It reminds me of Kabir's Wedding Song: 

Sing O Soul, O soul you sing!
Sing freely sing, O fondly sing!
Sing sated sweet savory song
Sing I hear my wedding bells ring!
More: Dulhani

Song

- Allen Ginsberg

The weight of the world
       is love.
Under the burden
       of solitude,
under the burden
       of dissatisfaction

       the weight,
the weight we carry
       is love.

Who can deny?
       In dreams
it touches
       the body,
in thought
       constructs
a miracle,
       in imagination
anguishes
       till born
in human—
looks out of the heart
       burning with purity—
for the burden of life
       is love,

but we carry the weight
       wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
       at last,
must rest in the arms
       of love.

No rest
       without love,
no sleep
       without dreams
of love—
       be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
       or machines,
the final wish
       is love
—cannot be bitter,
       cannot deny,
cannot withhold
       if denied:

the weight is too heavy

       —must give
for no return
       as thought
is given
       in solitude
in all the excellence
       of its excess.

The warm bodies
       shine together
in the darkness,
       the hand moves
to the center
       of the flesh,
the skin trembles
       in happiness
and the soul comes
       joyful to the eye—

yes, yes,
       that’s what
I wanted,
       I always wanted,
I always wanted,
       to return
to the body
       where I was born.

The practice of Sikhism can be summarized thus: "Singing oneness." There is only one; and the purpose of a sentient being is to sing this one. Understanding what singing and oneness are, and how to sing is the subject of a Sikh lifetime. All other practices are unessential adornments. 






ले उड़ा फिर कोई ख़याल हमें
साक़िया साक़िया संभाल हमें

रो रहे हैं के एक आदत है
वरना इतना नहीं मलाल हमें

हम यहाँ भी नहीं है ख़ुश लेकिन
अपनी महफ़िल से मत निकाल हमें

हम तेरे दोस्त हैं 'फ़राज़' मगर
अब न उलझनों में डाल हमें

-अहमद फ़राज़


इसी ग़ज़ल के कुछ और अश'आर:

ख़लवती हैं तेरे जमाल के हम
आईने की तरह संभाल हमें

(ख़लवती = एकान्त प्रिय), (जमाल = सौंदर्य, शोभा)

इख़्तिलाफ़-ए-जहाँ का रंज न था
दे गए मात हम-ख़याल हमें

(इख़्तिलाफ़-ए-जहाँ = दुनिया से मतभेद), (रंज = कष्ट, दुःख, आघात, पीड़ा), (हम-ख़याल = एक से विचार वाले)

क्या तवक़्क़ो करें ज़माने से
हो भी ग़र जुर्रत-ए-सवाल हमें

(तवक़्क़ो = आशा, उम्मीद), (जुर्रत-ए-सवाल = प्रश्न पूछने का साहस)




Le Uda Phir Koi Khayaal Hamain
Saaqiya Saaqiya Sambhaal Hamain

Ro Rahe Hain Ke Ek Aadat Hai
Warna Itna Nahin Malaal Hamain

Hum Yahaan Bhi Nahin Hain Khush Lekin
Apni Mehfil Se Matt Nikaal Hamain

Hum Tere Dost Hain ‘Faraz’ Magar
Ab Na Aur Uljhanon Mein Daal Hamain

-Ahmed Faraz


Some more couplets from this ghazal:

Khalwati Hain Tere Jamaal Ke Hum
Aaeene Ki Tarah Sambhaal Hamain

Ikhtalaaf-E-Jahaan Ka Ranj Na Tha
De Gayye Maat Hum-Khayal Hamain

Kya Tawaqqo Karen Zamaane Se
Ho Bhi Gar Jurrat-E-Sawaal Hamain

I am releasing some recent recordings through the album "Moko Taar Le" this year as part of Bhagat Namdev's 750th birth centenary celebrations.  Moko Taar Le is a shabad by Bhagat Namdev that I have been singing this since 2008. Lyrics, translation, the story of Dhruv, my notes on this shabad, as well as more information about the quotes in the video can be found on my blog: Notes on Moko Taar Le. You can stream and download Moko Taar Le here: Spotify, Apple Music, iTunes. 



Moko taar Le Raama - Gurbani

ਮੋ ਕਉ ਤਾਰਿ ਲੇ ਰਾਮਾ ਤਾਰਿ ਲੇ ॥
ਮੈ ਅਜਾਨੁ ਜਨੁ ਤਰਿਬੇ ਨ ਜਾਨਉ ਬਾਪ ਬੀਠੁਲਾ ਬਾਹ ਦੇ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥

ਨਰ ਤੇ ਸੁਰ ਹੋਇ ਜਾਤ ਨਿਮਖ ਮੈ ਸਤਿਗੁਰ ਬੁਧਿ ਸਿਖਲਾਈ ॥
ਨਰ ਤੇ ਉਪਜਿ ਸੁਰਗ ਕਉ ਜੀਤਿਓ ਸੋ ਅਵਖਧ ਮੈ ਪਾਈ ॥੧॥

ਜਹਾ ਜਹਾ ਧੂਅ ਨਾਰਦੁ ਟੇਕੇ ਨੈਕੁ ਟਿਕਾਵਹੁ ਮੋਹਿ ॥
ਤੇਰੇ ਨਾਮ ਅਵਿਲੰਬਿ ਬਹੁਤੁ ਜਨ ਉਧਰੇ ਨਾਮੇ ਕੀ ਨਿਜ ਮਤਿ ਏਹ ॥੨॥੩॥

Shabad Transliteration in English

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||

Lyrics in English (Transliteration 2)

Moko Taar le Rama Taar le
Main Ajaan Jan Taribe Na Jaano
Baap Beethla Baah De

Nar Te Sur Hoye Jaat Nimakh Mai
Satgur Budh Sikhlaayi
Nar Te Upaj Suraj Ko Jitiyo
So Avkhad Mai Paayi

Jahaan Jahaan Dhu Naarad Teke
Naik Tikavo Mohe
Tere Naam Avilamb Bahut Jan Udhare
Naame ki Nij Mat Eh

English Translation 

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

With Satgur's wisdom a human can be trained divinity 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 

Another translation

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

A Human can become divine instantly through the wisdom of Satguru
An earthling can win heaven through the elixir I have found
 
Wherever you placed Dhruv through Narad, Place me there again and again
Through your name many have emancipated, this is my firm belief

Another Translation: The Prayer of Bhagat Namdev, Raag Gond

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

Grant me, this mere human, the wisdom to achieve divinity without delay
Give me the medicine to conquer heaven despite being an earthling

Please place me where Dhroo was placed with Naarad's guidance
I know countless have been saved without delay through your Name.

Transliteration and Translation by Kulbir Singh Thind & Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa

Gond.
In Raag Gond

Mo kao ṯār le rāmā ṯār le.
Carry me across, O Lord, carry me across.

Mai ajān jan ṯaribe na jāno bāp bīṯẖulā bāh ḏe. ||1|| rahāo.
I am ignorant, and I do not know how to swim. O my Beloved Father, please give me Your arm. ||1||Pause||

Nar ṯe sur hoe jāṯ nimakẖ mai saṯgur buḏẖ sikẖlāī.
I have been transformed from a mortal being into an angel, in an instant; the True Guru has taught me this.

Nar ṯe upaj surag kao jīṯio so avkẖaḏẖ mai pāī. ||1||
Born of human flesh, I have conquered the heavens; such is the medicine I was given. ||1||

Jahā jahā ḏẖūa nāraḏ teke naik tikāvahu mohi.
Please place me where You placed Dhroo and Naarad, O my Master.

Ŧere nām avilamb bahuṯ jan uḏẖre nāme kī nij maṯ eh. ||2||3||
With the Support of Your Name, so many have been saved; this is Naam Dayv's understanding. ||2||3||

Punjabi Translation - Professor Sahib Singh

I had a different interpretation of the second paragraph, so I checked all the translations. I found Professor Sahib Singh's translation most agreeable: 

ਗੋਂਡ ॥ ਮੋ ਕਉ ਤਾਰਿ ਲੇ ਰਾਮਾ ਤਾਰਿ ਲੇ ॥ ਮੈ ਅਜਾਨੁ ਜਨੁ ਤਰਿਬੇ ਨ ਜਾਨਉ ਬਾਪ ਬੀਠੁਲਾ ਬਾਹ ਦੇ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥ ਨਰ ਤੇ ਸੁਰ ਹੋਇ ਜਾਤ ਨਿਮਖ ਮੈ ਸਤਿਗੁਰ ਬੁਧਿ ਸਿਖਲਾਈ ॥ ਨਰ ਤੇ ਉਪਜਿ ਸੁਰਗ ਕਉ ਜੀਤਿਓ ਸੋ ਅਵਖਧ ਮੈ ਪਾਈ ॥੧॥ ਜਹਾ ਜਹਾ ਧੂਅ ਨਾਰਦੁ ਟੇਕੇ ਨੈਕੁ ਟਿਕਾਵਹੁ ਮੋਹਿ ॥ ਤੇਰੇ ਨਾਮ ਅਵਿਲੰਬਿ ਬਹੁਤੁ ਜਨ ਉਧਰੇ ਨਾਮੇ ਕੀ ਨਿਜ ਮਤਿ ਏਹ ॥੨॥੩॥ {ਪੰਨਾ 873}

ਪਦਅਰਥ: ਮੋ ਕਉ = ਮੈਨੂੰ। ਰਾਮਾ = ਹੇ ਰਾਮ! {ਨੋਟ:ਨਾਮਦੇਵ ਜੀ ਜਿਸ ਨੂੰ "ਬਾਪ ਬੀਠੁਲਾ" ਕਹਿ ਰਹੇ ਹਨ ਉਸੇ ਨੂੰ ਹੀ 'ਰਾਮ' ਕਹਿ ਕੇ ਪੁਕਾਰਦੇ ਹਨ, ਸੋ, ਕਿਸੇ 'ਬੀਠੁਲ' = ਮੂਰਤੀ ਵਲ ਇਸ਼ਾਰਾ ਨਹੀਂ ਹੈ, ਪਰਮਾਤਮਾ ਅੱਗੇ ਅਰਦਾਸ ਹੈ। ਧ੍ਰੂਅ ਤੇ ਨਾਰਦ ਦਾ ਸੰਬੰਧ ਕਿਸੇ ਬੀਠੁਲ = ਮੂਰਤੀ ਨਾਲ ਨਹੀਂ ਹੋ ਸਕਦਾ}। ਤਰਿਬੇ ਨ ਜਾਨਉ = ਮੈਂ ਤਰਨਾ ਨਹੀਂ ਜਾਣਦਾ। ਦੇ = ਦੇਹ, ਫੜਾ।੧।ਰਹਾਉ।

ਤੇ = ਤੋਂ। ਸੁਰ = ਦੇਵਤੇ। ਨਿਮਖ ਮੈ = ਅੱਖ ਫਰਕਣ ਦੇ ਸਮੇ ਵਿਚ। ਮੈ = ਵਿਚ, ਮਹਿ, ਮਾਹਿ। ਸਤਿਗੁਰ ਬੁਧਿ ਸਿਖਲਾਈ = ਗੁਰੂ ਦੀ ਸਿਖਾਈ ਹੋਈ ਮੱਤ ਨਾਲ। ਉਪਜਿ = ਉਪਜ ਕੇ, ਪੈਦਾ ਹੋ ਕੇ। ਅਵਖਧ = ਦਵਾਈ। ਪਾਈ = ਪਾਈਂ, ਪਾ ਲਵਾਂ।੧।

ਜਹਾ ਜਹਾ = ਜਿਸ ਆਤਮਕ ਅਵਸਥਾ ਵਿਚ। ਟੇਕੇ = ਟਿਕਾਏ ਹਨ, ਇਸਥਿਤ ਕੀਤੇ ਹਨ। ਨੈਕੁ = {Skt. नैकश = Repeatedly, often. न एकशः = Not once} ਸਦਾ। ਮੋਹਿ = ਮੈਨੂੰ। ਅਵਿਲੰਬ = ਆਸਰਾ। ਅਵਿਲੰਬਿ = ਆਸਰੇ ਨਾਲ। ਉਧਰੇ = (ਸੰਸਾਰ = ਸਮੁੰਦਰ ਦੇ ਵਿਕਾਰਾਂ ਤੋਂ) ਬਚ ਗਏ। ਨਿਜ ਮਤਿ = ਆਪਣੀ ਮੱਤ, ਪੱਕਾ ਨਿਸ਼ਚਾ।੨।

ਅਰਥ: ਹੇ ਮੇਰੇ ਰਾਮ! ਮੈਨੂੰ (ਸੰਸਾਰ-ਸਮੁੰਦਰ ਤੋਂ) ਤਾਰ ਲੈ, ਬਚਾ ਲੈ। ਹੇ ਮੇਰੇ ਪਿਤਾ ਪ੍ਰਭੂ! ਮੈਨੂੰ ਆਪਣੀ ਬਾਂਹ ਫੜਾ, ਮੈਂ ਤੇਰਾ ਅੰਞਾਣ ਸੇਵਕ ਹਾਂ, ਮੈਂ ਤਰਨਾ ਨਹੀਂ ਜਾਣਦਾ।ਰਹਾਉ।

(ਹੇ ਬੀਠੁਲ ਪਿਤਾ! ਮੈਨੂੰ ਭੀ ਗੁਰੂ ਮਿਲਾ) ਗੁਰੂ ਤੋਂ ਮਿਲੀ ਮੱਤ ਦੀ ਬਰਕਤ ਨਾਲ ਅੱਖ ਦੇ ਫੋਰ ਵਿਚ ਮਨੁੱਖਾਂ ਤੋਂ ਦੇਵਤੇ ਬਣ ਜਾਈਦਾ ਹੈ, ਹੇ ਪਿਤਾ! ਮਿਹਰ ਕਰ) ਮੈਂ ਭੀ ਉਹ ਦਵਾਈ ਹਾਸਲ ਕਰ ਲਵਾਂ ਜਿਸ ਨਾਲ ਮਨੁੱਖਾਂ ਤੋਂ ਜੰਮ ਕੇ (ਭਾਵ, ਮਨੁੱਖ-ਜਾਤੀ ਵਿਚੋਂ ਹੋ ਕੇ) ਸੁਰਗ ਨੂੰ ਜਿੱਤਿਆ ਜਾ ਸਕਦਾ ਹੈ (ਭਾਵ, ਸੁਰਗ ਦੀ ਭੀ ਪਰਵਾਹ ਨਹੀਂ ਰਹਿੰਦੀ) ।੧।

ਹੇ ਮੇਰੇ ਰਾਮ! ਤੂੰ ਜਿਸ ਜਿਸ ਆਤਮਕ ਟਿਕਾਣੇ ਧ੍ਰੂ ਤੇ ਨਾਰਦ (ਵਰਗੇ ਭਗਤਾਂ) ਨੂੰ ਅਪੜਾਇਆ ਹੈ, ਮੈਨੂੰ ਸਦਾ ਲਈ ਅਪੜਾ ਦੇਹ, ਮੇਰਾ ਨਾਮਦੇਵ ਦਾ ਇਹ ਪੱਕਾ ਨਿਸ਼ਚਾ ਹੈ ਕਿ ਤੇਰੇ ਨਾਮ ਦੇ ਆਸਰੇ ਬੇਅੰਤ ਜੀਵ (ਸੰਸਾਰ-ਸਮੁੰਦਰ ਦੇ ਵਿਕਾਰਾਂ ਤੋਂ) ਬਚ ਨਿਕਲਦੇ ਹਨ।੨।੩।

ਭਾਵ: ਪ੍ਰਭੂ ਤੋਂ ਨਾਮ ਸਿਮਰਨ ਦੀ ਮੰਗ। ਨਾਮ ਦੀ ਬਰਕਤ ਨਾਲ ਸੁਰਗ ਦੀ ਭੀ ਲਾਲਸਾ ਨਹੀਂ ਰਹਿੰਦੀ।

Hindi Translation by Professor Sahib Singh

हे मेरे राम! मुझे (संसार-सागर से) तार लो, मुझे बचाओ। हे मेरे प्रभु और पिता! मुझे अपनी बाँह से पकड़ लो, मैं तुम्हारा अज्ञानी सेवक हूँ, मुझे नहीं पता कि कैसे तैरना है।

(हे पिता! मैंने भी गुरु को पा लिया है) गुरु से प्राप्त ज्ञान के आशीर्वाद से, एक आंख की जगमगाहट में, मनुष्य देवता बन जाते हैं, हे पिता! कृपया, मुझे वह औषधि भी प्राप्त करनी चाहिए जिसके द्वारा स्वर्ग को मनुष्य से उत्पन्न किया जा सकता है (अर्थात, मानव जाति से) (मतलब, स्वर्ग की भी परवाह नहीं है)।

हे राम! ध्रुव और नारद (जैसे भक्तों) को दिया गया आध्यात्मिक निवास, जो मुझे हमेशा के लिए दे देता है, यह नामदेव का दृढ़ विश्वास है कि तेरा नाम का समर्थन ही अनंत प्राणियों (विश्व-सागर के विकारों से) को बचाता है। ।

भावार्थ: प्रभु से नाम सिमरन माँग । नाम के आशीर्वाद से स्वर्ग की लालसा भी नहीं रहती।
Sunflower Poems

I visited my uncle's house last weekend for a family gathering. The first one during this pandemic. His backyard opens into the hills and noticed that there were so many stalks of dead sunflowers.  Tall, dark and dead.  I thought of a sunflower poem by William Blake I had just recently read and bumped into Allen Ginsberg's Sunflower Sutra. I was obviously reminded of the Buddhist Lotus Sutra. 


Ah! Sun-flower

William Blake

Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun:
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers journey is done. 

Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow: 
Arise from their graves and aspire, 
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.


Sunflower Sutra

by Allen Ginsberg

I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look for the sunset over the box house hills and cry.

Jack Kerouac sat beside me on a busted rusty iron pole, companion, we thought the same thoughts of the soul, bleak and blue and sad-eyed, surrounded by the gnarled steel roots of trees of machinery.

The only water on the river mirrored the red sky, sun sank on top of final Frisco peaks, no fish in that stream, no hermit in those mounts, just ourselves rheumy-eyed and hung-over like old bums on the riverbank, tired and wily.

Look at the Sunflower, he said, there was a dead gray shadow against the sky, big as a man, sitting dry on top of a pile of ancient sawdust–

–I rushed up enchanted–it was my first sunflower, memories of Blake–my visions–Harlem

and Hells of the Eastern rivers, bridges clanking Joes greasy Sandwiches, dead baby carriages, black treadless tires forgotten and unretreaded, the poem of the riverbank, condoms & pots, steel knives, nothing stainless, only the dank muck and the razor-sharp artifacts passing into the past–

and the gray Sunflower poised against the sunset, crackly bleak and dusty with the smut and smog and smoke of olden locomotives in its eye–

corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken like a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face, soon-to-be-toothless mouth of sunny air, sunrays obliterated on its hairy head like a dried wire spiderweb,

leaves stuck out like arms out of the stem, gestures from the sawdust root, broke pieces of plaster fallen out of the black twigs, a dead fly in its ear,

Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O my soul, I loved you then!

The grime was no man’s grime but death and human locomotives,

all that dress of dust, that veil of darkened railroad skin, that smog of cheek, that eyelid of black mis'ry, that sooty hand or phallus or protuberance of artificial worse-than-dirt–industrial– modern–all that civilization spotting your crazy golden crown–

and those blear thoughts of death and dusty loveless eyes and ends and withered roots below, in the home-pile of sand and sawdust, rubber dollar bills, skin of machinery, the guts and innards of the weeping coughing car, the empty lonely tincans with their rusty tongues alack, what more could I name, the smoked ashes of some cock cigar, the cunts of wheelbarrows and the milky breasts of cars, wornout asses out of chairs & sphincters of dynamos–all these

entangled in your mummied roots–and you standing before me in the sunset, all your glory in your form!

A perfect beauty of a sunflower! a perfect excellent lovely sunflower existence! a sweet natural eye to the new hip moon, woke up alive and excited grasping in the sunset shadow sunrise golden monthly breeze!

How many flies buzzed round you innocent of your grime, while you cursed the heavens of your railroad and your flower soul?

Poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a flower? when did you look at your skin and decide you were an impotent dirty old locomotive? the ghost of a locomotive? the specter and shade of a once powerful mad American locomotive?

You were never no locomotive, Sunflower, you were a sunflower!

And you Locomotive, you are a locomotive, forget me not!

So I grabbed up the skeleton thick sunflower and stuck it at my side like a scepter,

and deliver my sermon to my soul, and Jack’s soul too, and anyone who’ll listen,

–We’re not our skin of grime, we’re not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we’re all golden sunflowers inside, blessed by our own seed & hairy naked accomplishment-bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sitdown vision.


More: https://www.gradesaver.com/allen-ginsbergs-poetry/study-guide/summary-sunflower-sutra

Lotus Sutra


What is the Lotus Sutra from https://www.nichiren.or.jp/english/teachings/sutra/

The Lotus Sutra is one of the most important sutras in Mahayana Buddhism and was likely written down between 100 B.C. and 200 A.D. Already well known in India, the sutra became more famous and influential when it was translated into Chinese by Kumarajiva in the year 406. After Chih-i founded the T’ien-T’ai School in China, based on the teaching expounded by this sutra in the sixth century, it was considered one of the canonical sutras of Chinese Buddhism. After the T’ien-T’ai School of China was introduced to Japan by Saicho and became the Tendai Sect, the Lotus Sutra became loved as literature among the people.

The sutra is named the Lotus Sutra because the lotus symbolized the oneness of cause and effect, specifically the cause of aspiring to enlightenment (Buddhahood) and the effect of attaining it, since the lotus is a flower that blooms and seeds at the same time. It also symbolizes the purity of Buddhahood, blooming in the midst of our ordinary lives just as the lotus blossoms in muddy pond water.


The Sunflowers

Mary Oliver

Come with me
into the field of sunflowers.
Their faces are burnished disks,
their dry spines

creak like ship masts,
their green leaves,
so heavy and many,
fill all day with the sticky

sugars of the sun.
Come with me
to visit the sunflowers,
they are shy

but want to be friends;
they have wonderful stories
of when they were young –
the important weather,

the wandering crows.
Don’t be afraid
to ask them questions!
Their bright faces,

which follow the sun,
will listen, and all
those rows of seeds –
each one a new life!

hope for a deeper acquaintance;
each of them, though it stands
in a crowd of many,
like a separate universe,

is lonely, the long work
of turning their lives
into a celebration
is not easy. Come

and let us talk with those modest faces,
the simple garments of leaves,
the coarse roots in the earth
so uprightly burning.
Moko Taar Le Rama Taar Le

For speaking before the video: 

These words come from Bhagat Namdev,
the poet and philosopher who was born 
750 years ago this month ...

who sang in the simple languages
that common people understood
Marathi, Punjabi, Hindi ...

who danced through his kirtan
and lighted the lamp 
of true knowledge
for the world

who spread the message 
of oneness in haunting melodies
that were incensed with the Indian soil ...

who continues to guide us
like the dhruv taara,
the north star, 
 
for those who desire 
to cross the ocean of life 
to reach the most joyous shore


New Recording: 20159
Inspiration: Loop: Dreamcatchers Episode 1; Lyllaby 98bpm; changed from F#m to Em
Random Ghalib Ghazal - Zulmatkade Main Mere


Zulmat-kade mein mere 

- Mirza Ghalib

(Translations and Discussions below)

zulmat_kade mein mere shab-e-gham ka josh hai
ik shamma'a hai daleel-e-sahar, so khamosh hai

nai  muzda-e-wisaal na nazzaara-e-jamaal
muddat huee ki aashtee-e-chashm-o-gosh hai

mai ne kiya hai, husn-e-khud_aara ko be_hijaab
'ai shauq, haan ijaazat-e-tasleem-e-hosh  hai

gauhar ko ikd-e-gardan-e-khubaan mein dekhna
kya auj par  sitaara-e-gauhar_farosh  hai

deedaar, waada, hausla, saaqee, nigaah-e-mast
bazm-e-khayaal maikada-e-be_kharosh hai

'ei taaza  waaridan-e-bisaat-e-hawa-e-dil
zinhaar gar tumhain hawas-e-na-o-nosh hai

dekho  mujhe jo  deeda-e-ibrat_nigaah ho
meree suno jo gosh-e-naseehat_niyosh hai

saaqee  ba_jalwa  dushman-e-imaan-o-aagahee
mutrib ba_naghma rahzan-e-tamkeen-o-hosh hai

ya shab ko dekhte the; ki har gosha-e-bisaat
daamaan-e-baaghbaan-o-kaf-e-gul_farosh   hai

lutf-e-khiraam-e-saaqee-o-zauq-e-sada-e-chang
yeh  jannat-e-nigaah  woh firdaus-e-gosh  hai

ya subh  dam jo dekhiye aakar to bazm mein
nai woh suroor-o-soz na josh-o-kharosh hai

daagh-e-firaaq-e-sohabat-e-shab kee jalee hooee
ik shamma`a reh gaee hai so wo bhee khamosh hai

aate hain ghaib se ye mazaameen khayaal mein
ghalib,  sareer-e-khaama nawa-e-sarosh hai


Translation from Columbia: http://www.columbia.edu/itc/mealac/pritchett/00ghalib/169/index_169.html

Translation from https://rahulnegi.blogspot.com/2014/02/zulmat-kade-mein-mere.html

zulmat_kade mein mere shab-e-gham ka josh hai
ik shamma'a hai daleel-e-sahar, so khamosh hai

Line 1/2 - In this my place of darkness, there is this fervor and emotion of the night of grief. There is a candle which is the sign of the morning and that too is silent. Ghalib says in this my house(world) where darkness pervades and there is passion in me due to this night of grief. The extinguished candle is the proof that the morning has come by. As dawn approaches the candle is blown off. So though my world is still dark (and possibly more darker due to the candle being blown off), there is hope that the dawn is coming soon.

nai  muzda-e-wisaal na nazzaara-e-jamaal
muddat huee ki aashtee-e-chashm-o-gosh hai

Line 3/4 - Neither the good news of our meeting nor the sight of such a beautiful face. It has been a long time, that there has been a peace between the eyes and the ears. The news of meeting makes the ears fill with joy, but makes the eyes jealous and the glance of her beautiful face brightens my eyes but make the ears jealous. It has been a long time now that there has been peace and quiet for neither the eyes get the see her and the ears get to hear the news and so there is harmony between them.(for there is nothing to be jealous about)

mai ne kiya hai, husn-e-khud_aara ko be_hijaab
'ai shauq, haan ijaazat-e-tasleem-e-hosh  hai

Line 5/6 - The wine has lifted it, the veil of the beauty of the self adorer. Oh! the desire indeed, there is the permission to surrender the senses. Ghalib says that the wine has lifted this veil of the self adorning's beauty. Oh! the desires of my heart, now you too have permission to sacrifice your senses.(an extension being that just by looking at the unveiled beauty, no one can remain in their senses)

gauhar ko ikd-e-gardan-e-khubaan mein dekhna
kya auj par  sitaara-e-gauhar_farosh  hai

Line 7/8 - I saw the pearl in the necklace of a beautiful person(my beloved). What height the star of the pearl merchant is!. Ghalib says I saw my beloved and the pearls on those lovely necklace she has. Look at the fortune(star) of that pearl seller. His pearls adorn such a magnificent beauty.

deedaar, waada, hausla, saaqee, nigaah-e-mast
bazm-e-khayaal maikada-e-be_kharosh hai

Line 9/10 - Appearance, promise, courage, bartender, a intoxicating sight. The meeting of thoughts is like a bar without a tumult. Ghalib says the mind is like a wine-house. Lot of things are competing for attention, the only thing that is different in this virtual bar(mind) is that this bar lacks the hustle bustle of the real bar.

'ei taaza  waaridan-e-bisaat-e-hawa-e-dil
zinhaar gar tumhain hawas-e-na-o-nosh hai

Line 11/12 - Oh! the fresh arrivals at the chessboard of the desires of the heart. Be warned! if you lust for feasting and drinking. The poet says oh! you the un-experienced lovers who have just entered the minefield of the longing of the heart. If you lust for drinking and feasting, then beware!

dekho  mujhe jo  deeda-e-ibrat_nigaah ho
meree suno jo gosh-e-naseehat_niyosh hai

Line 13/14 - Look at me if your eyes can bear the sight of a rebuked person. Listen to me if you have the ear of the advise listener. The poet says look at me, look at my state if your eyes can look at a admonished person and if you have an ear that is ready to listen to advise of others, then listen to me.(referring to himself as probably a rebuked lover who can give a word of caution to the newly minted lovers)

saaqee  ba_jalwa  dushman-e-imaan-o-aagahee
mutrib ba_naghma rahzan-e-tamkeen-o-hosh hai

Line 15/16 - The bartender with his tricks & style is an enemy of integrity and knowledge. A singer with a beautiful song is a robber of power and understanding. The poet says the bartender with his magic of wine is the enemy of wisdom and dignity for these attributes take leave as the wine takes effect. And as melodious music plays, the power and senses also leave. The music makes me weak and lost.

ya shab ko dekhte the; ki har gosha-e-bisaat
daamaan-e-baaghbaan-o-kaf-e-gul_farosh   hai

Line 17/18 - Either at night we used to look, that every corner of the spread. It is the shirt of the gardener and the sleeve of the flower seller. The poet says at night, every corner of the spread (gathering) is full of flowers. The corners have become the shirt of the gardener and the sleeve of the flower seller for they decorated with full of flowers.

lutf-e-khiraam-e-saaqee-o-zauq-e-sada-e-chang
yeh  jannat-e-nigaah  woh firdaus-e-gosh  hai

Line 19/20 - Enjoy the intoxicating gait of the bartender and the taste of sound of the flute. One is the heaven for the eyes and the other the paradise for the ear.

ya subh  dam jo dekhiye aakar to bazm mein
nai woh suroor-o-soz na josh-o-kharosh hai

Line 21/22 - Or else come to the meeting at the break of dawn and take a look. Neither that joy of passion nor excitement and turmoil is there. The poet says come and take a look at the gathering at the break of the dawn. All that hustle bustle and commotion of the night is no longer here. There is no pleasure of passion/ardor nor there is excitement of tumult.

daagh-e-firaaq-e-sohabat-e-shab kee jalee hooee
ik shamma`a reh gaee hai so wo bhee khamosh hai

Line 23/24 - Burned by the scar of separation of company of the night. Only one candle has remained, and that too is silent. The poet says being burnt by the wound of separation of the companionship of the night. In this lonely night there was one candle left and that too has been burnt out and the dawn has still not arrived. The burning night of misery has no respite.

aate hain ghaib se ye mazaameen khayaal mein
ghalib,  sareer-e-khaama nawa-e-sarosh hai

Line 25/26 - These topics comes mysteriously(or from the hidden) to my mind. Ghalib, the scratching sound made by the pen is the voice of the angel. The poet says that such topics/themes comes from the hidden/unknown (some higher power) into his mind. Oh Ghalib! the sound of my pen writing is the voice of the angel.

Meaning of the difficult word -
zulmat = darkness
kade = place of
daleele = proof
sahar = morning
muzda = good news
wisaal = meeting
nazzaara-e-jamaal = seeing a beautiful face
aashtee = harmony/friendship/peace
chashm = eye
gosh = ear
mai = bar
khud_aara = self adorer
hijaab = veil
tasleem = greeting
gauhar = pearl/gem
ikd-e-gardan = necklace
khubaan = a beautiful person/sweetheart
auj = highest point/summit
farosh = merchant
deedaar = appearance
be_kharosh = quiet/dead
waaridan = arrivals
bisaat = chess
hawa = desire/greed
zinhaar = be warned!
hawas = lust/greed
na-o-nosh = feasting/drinking
deedaa= sight
ibrat = admonition
gosh = ear
naseehat = advice
niyosh = listener
aagahee = wisdom
mutrib = singer
rahazan = robber
tamkeen = authority/power
gosha = corner
baaghbaan = gradener
kaf = sleeve
gul_farosh = florist
khiraam = speed
zauq = taste
sada = sound
chang = lute
firdaus = paradise
suroor = pleasure
soz = passion/heat
firaaq = separation
sohabat = company
ghaib = hidden/mysterious
mazaameen = topics
sareer = scratching sound made by a pen
khaama = pen
nawa = sound
sarosh = angel

Words from https://ekfankaar.wordpress.com/2007/09/21/zulmat-kade-mein-mere/

zulmat_kade me.n mere shab-e-Gham kaa josh hai
ik shammaa hai daliil-e-sahar, so Khamosh hai

Zulmat: Darkness, Obscurity
Kadah: A Place (usually used as a suffix)
Shab-e-Gham: Night of Sorrw
Josh: Enthusiasm, Heat, Lust, Passion, Warmth, Zeal
Shamma: Lamp, Candle
Daliil: Argument, Evidence, Proof, Witness
Sahar: Dawn, Morning
So: Compare To
Khamosh: Appease, Lull, Mollify, Orderly, Quiet, Silent

naa muzdaa-e-visaal na nazzaaraa-e-jamaal
muddat huii ki aashtii-e-chashm-o-gosh hai

Muzdaa: Good News
Visaal: Death, Meeting, Union
Nazaara: Sight, View, Vista
Jamaal: Beauty, Elegance, Loveliness
Muddat: Awhile, Duration, Length Of Time, Period Of Time, Term, While
Aashtii: Harmony, Friendship, Peace
Chashm: Eye, Expectation, Hope
Gosh: Ear

mai ne kiyaa hai husn-e-Khud_aara ko be_hijaab
ae shauq yaa.N ijaazat-e-tasliim-e-hosh hai

Mai: Wine, Liquor
Husn: Attractiveness, Beauty, Elegance, Loveliness
Kudh: Oneself
Aaraa: Adorning, Bent, Crooked Embellishing, Inclined, Oblique, Slanting
Khud-Aaraa: Self Adorer
Hijaab: Curtain, Veil
Be-Hijaab: Without the veil
Shauq: Aspiration, Desire, Eagerness, Enthusiasm, Fondness, Keenness, Interest, Taste, Yearning, Zeal
Yaan: Here
Ijaazat: Permission, Leave Sanction
Taslim: Accept, Agree, Greeting, Salutation
Hosh: Awareness, Realization, Sense, Mind, Understanding

gauhar ko ikd-e-gardan-e-Khubaa.N me.n dekhanaa
kyaa auj par sitaaraa-e-gauhar_farosh hai

Gauhar: Gem, Jewel, Pearl
Gardan: Neck
Ikd-e-gardan: Necklace
Khubaan: The fair, the beautiful; (as a sing.) Sweetheart, lady-love.
Auj: Climax, Height, Position, Verve, Zenith
Farosh: Venal, capable of being purchased, corruptible, merchant

diidaar, vaadaa, hausalaa, saaqii, nigaah-e-mast
bazm-e-Khayaal maikadaa-e-be_Kharosh hai

Diidaar: Sight, Interview, Appearance, Glimpse of her
Vaadaa: Promise, Agreement
Hausalaa: Capacity, Courage, Desire, Spirit, Resolution, Strength
Saaqii: Beloved, Bar Tender, Cup-Bearer,Page
Nigaah: Attention, Care, Close, Custody, Glance, Look, Regard, Sight
Mast: Drunk, Excited, Intoxicated, Lascivious, Mad, Overjoyed, Rampant
Bazm: Meeting, “Mehafil”, Assembly, Company (At A Feast Or Entertainment), Gathering, Party
Khayaal: Care, Imagination, Judgement, Opinion, Respect, Remember, Thought, Whim
Mai-kadah: Bar, Tavern
Kharosh: Loud Noise, Cry, Tumult
Be-Kharosh: Quite, Dead

ae taazaa vaaridan-e-bisaat-e-havaa-e-dil
zi.nhaar gar tumhe.n havas-e-na-o-nosh hai

Taazaa: Green, Fresh, Happy, New, Tender, Verdant, Un-faded
Vaaridan: Arrivals
Bisaat: Chess Board
Zinhaar: Never, By No Means, Beware!, Be-Warned
Havaas: Five Senses, Sense And Sensibility
Na-o-nosh: Feasting, Drinking

dekho mujhe jo diidaa-e-ibarat_nigaah ho
merii suno jo gosh-e-nasiihat_niyosh hai

Diddaa: Seen, observed, perceived, felt, experienced; having seen
Ibarat: Admonishing, Composition, Diction, Style, Wording
Gosh: Ear
Nasiihat: dvice, Admonition, Counsel, Exhortation, Fable, Moral Lesson, Warning
Niyosh: Listener

saaqii ba_jalvaa dushman-e-imaa.N-o-aagahii
mutarib ba_naGmaa rahazan-e-tamkiin-o-hosh hai

Jalvaa: To Appear, Splendour, Display, Show
Dushman: Enemy, Foe
Iimaan: Belief, Creed, Conscience, Faith, Leader
Aagahii: Cognition, Cognizance, Forewarning, Information, Insight, Intelligence, Intuition, Knowledge, Notice
Mutarib: Singer
Nagmaa: Melody, Song, Musical Note
Rahazan: Robber
Tamkiin: Authority, Power

yaa shab ko dekhate the ki har goshaa-e-bisaat
daamaan-e-baaGabaa.N-o-kaf-e-gul_farosh hai

Goshaa: Angle, Cell, Corner, Lobe, Privacy
Bisaat: Chess Board

Bagaabaan: Gardener
Kaf: Palm, Sleeve
Gul-farosh: Rose/Flower Merchant, Florist

lutf-e-Khiiraam-e-saaqii-o-zauq-e-sadaa-e-cha.ng
ye jannat-e-nigaah wo firdaus-e-gosh hai

Lutf: Benignity, Enjoyment, Favor, Grace, Joy, Kindness, Pleasure, Taste, Wit
Khiraam: Slow Pace, Speed, Manner Of Walking, Graceful Walk, Gait
Zauq: Enjoyment, Delight, Interest, Joy, Liking, Pleasure, Relish, Talent, Taste, Verve
Sadaa: Always, Call, Conversation, Echo, Ever, Sound, Tone, Voice
Chang: Lute, Tambourine
Jannat: Eden, Garden, Heaven, Paradise
Firdaus: Garden, Heaven, Paradise

ya subh dam jo dekhiiye aakar to bazm me.n
naa vo suruur-o-soz na josh-o-Kharosh hai

Subh: Dawn, Morning
Dam: Breath, Deception, Edge Of A Sword, Energy, Life, Moment, Strength, Might, Temper, Thrust, Vitality
Suruur: Exhilaration, Jollification, Joy, Pleasure, Rapture
Soz: Burning, Heat, Passion, Vexation
Josh: Enthusiasm, Heat, Lust, Passion, Warmth, Zeal
Kharosh: Loud Noise, Cry, Tumult

daaG-e-firaaq-e-sohabat-e-shab kii jalii huii
ik shammaa rah gaii hai so vo bhii Khamosh hai

Daag: Blemish, Calamity, Grief, Loss, Scar, Stain, Taint
Firaaq: Separation, Anxiety, Absence, Distance
Sohabat: Association, Company, Meeting

aate haiN Gaib se ye mazaamii.N Khayaal me.n
‘Ghalib’, sariir-e-Khaamaa navaa-e-sarosh hai

Gaib: Absence
Mazaamiin: Topics
Khayaal: Care, Imagination, Judgement, Opinion, Respect, Remember, Thought, Whim
Ghalib: A self reference to the poet, Mirza Ghalib
Sariir: Scratching Sound Made By A Pen,Throne
Khaama: Pen
Navaa: Sound, Voice
Sarosh: Angel


zulmat-kade meñ mere shab-e-ġham kā josh hai 

ik sham.a hai dalīl-e-sahar so ḳhamosh hai 

ne muzhda-e-visāl na nazzāra-e-jamāl 

muddat huī ki āshtī-e-chashm-o-gosh hai 

mai ne kiyā hai husn-e-ḳhud-ārā ko be-hijāb 

ai shauq! haañ ijāzat-e-taslīm-e-hosh hai 

gauhar ko aqd-e-gardan-e-ḳhūbāñ meñ dekhnā 

kyā auj par sitāra-e-gauhar-farosh hai 

dīdār baada hausla saaqī nigāh mast 

bazm-e-ḳhayāl mai-kada-e-be-ḳharosh hai 

ai taaza vārdān-e-bisāt-e-havā-e-dil 

zinhār agar tumheñ havas-e-nā.e-o-nosh hai 

dekho mujhe jo dīda-e-ibrat-nigāh ho 

merī suno jo gosh-e-nasīhat-ne.osh hai 

sāqī-ba-jalva dushman-e-īmān-o-āgahī 

mutrib ba-naġhma rahzan-e-tamkīn-o-hosh hai 

yā shab ko dekhte the ki har gosha-e-bisāt 

dāmān-e-bāġhbān o kaf-e-gul-farosh hai 

luft-e-ḳhiram-e-sāqī o zauq-e-sadā-e-chang 

ye jannat-e-nigāh vo firdaus-e-gosh hai 

yā sub.h-dam jo dekhiye aa kar to bazm meñ 

ne vo surūr o soz na josh-o-ḳharosh hai 

dāġh-e-firāq-e-sohbat-e-shab kī jalī huī 

ik sham.a rah ga.ī hai so vo bhī ḳhamosh hai 

aate haiñ ġhaib se ye mazāmīñ ḳhayāl meñ 

'ġhālib' sarīr-e-ḳhāma navā-e-sarosh hai 
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