Shivpreet Singh
Shivpreet Singh
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Tonight I am reading John Ashbery's poetry while listening to Guru Nanak's Mool Mantra. Contemplating about pain and death.  

Anticipated Stranger

by John Ashbery 

the bruise will stop by later.
For now, the pain pauses in its round,
notes the time of day, the patient’s temperature,
leaves a memo for the surrogate: What the hell
did you think you were doing? I mean . . .
Oh well, less said the better, they all say.
I’ll post this at the desk.

God will find the pattern and break it.

The Rounds of Pain and Death in the ward of life

This poem reminds me of Gautam Buddha's four noble truths -- an interesting way of talking about the rounds of pain and death as if this was a doctor's ward and pain, suffering and death were making rounds.  

In the poem, John Ashbery seems to talk how cyclical nature pain and anguish are in life. These experiences seem to haunt the speaker, like an ever-present companion, reminding them of the transient and vulnerable nature of existence.

The "anticipated stranger" takes on a profound significance, symbolizing death itself. As the poem progresses, the poet implies that death is the ultimate resolution to life's sufferings—a force that puts an end to all uncertainties and breaks the repetitive cycles of pain. Initially pain is taking the rounds and almost memorializing it by taking notes.  Then a bruise "will stop by later"; in the end death, anticipated but unknown, comes at its appointed time, concluding the journey of life with finality.

Throughout the lines, the poem seems to question the purpose and meaning behind these cycles of pain, and the lines "What the hell / did you think you were doing? I mean . . . / Oh well, less said the better, they all say. / I’ll post this at the desk" allude to the human struggle to understand the enigmatic nature of existence and the inevitability of mortality. These lines reflect the notion that, in the face of life's mysteries, some truths are better left unspoken or unknown.

In the final lines, "God will find the pattern and break it," the poet touches on the concept of a higher power or cosmic force that orchestrates the rhythm of life and death. Death, in this context, becomes the decisive agent, putting an end to all human suffering and uncertainties. It is the ultimate equalizer that transcends the complexities of earthly existence. In that sense the "anticipated stranger" embodies death's transformative power, serving as a reminder to embrace life while acknowledging its inevitable conclusion.

Mul Mantra


I am launching a new shabad today, just a simple traditional raag Todi composition sung live with the piano: Satgur Aayo Sharan Tuhari.  Here are some introductory thoughts on the shabad, followed by lyrics, transliteration and translation. 

Embracing Oneness: A Humble Plea to the Cosmic Consciousness 


In the vast expanse of cosmic consciousness, I offer a humble plea to the True Guru for divine guidance. Seeking harmony and tranquility, I immerse myself in the cosmic vibration of the Lord's Name, beseeching the release from worries and anxieties that burden my soul. 

Like a weary wanderer, I surrender to the feet of the Guru, yearning for salvation and forgiveness. Feeling helpless in the grand cosmos, I seek refuge in the boundless embrace of the Divine. 

The ever-forgiving and merciful essence of the Cosmic Consciousness supports all beings on their spiritual journey. As a humble servant of the Guru and a follower of the Saints, I invoke the cosmic consciousness, praying for deliverance and seeking the protective grace of the Divine. 


ਟੋਡੀ ਮਹਲਾ ੫ ॥
टोडी महला ५ ॥
Todī mėhlā 5.
Todee, Fifth Mehl:

ਸਤਿਗੁਰ ਆਇਓ ਸਰਣਿ ਤੁਹਾਰੀ ॥
सतिगुर आइओ सरणि तुहारी ॥
Saṯgur āio saraṇ ṯuhārī.
O True Guru, I have come to Your Sanctuary.

ਮਿਲੈ ਸੂਖੁ ਨਾਮੁ ਹਰਿ ਸੋਭਾ ਚਿੰਤਾ ਲਾਹਿ ਹਮਾਰੀ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
मिलै सूखु नामु हरि सोभा चिंता लाहि हमारी ॥१॥ रहाउ ॥
Milai sūkẖ nām har sobẖā cẖinṯā lāhi hamārī. ||1|| rahāo.
Grant me the peace and glory of the Lord's Name, and remove my anxiety. ||1||Pause||

ਅਵਰ ਨ ਸੂਝੈ ਦੂਜੀ ਠਾਹਰ ਹਾਰਿ ਪਰਿਓ ਤਉ ਦੁਆਰੀ ॥
अवर न सूझै दूजी ठाहर हारि परिओ तउ दुआरी ॥
Avar na sūjẖai ḏūjī ṯẖāhar hār pario ṯao ḏuārī.
I cannot see any other place of shelter; I have grown weary, and collapsed at Your door.

ਲੇਖਾ ਛੋਡਿ ਅਲੇਖੈ ਛੂਟਹ ਹਮ ਨਿਰਗੁਨ ਲੇਹੁ ਉਬਾਰੀ ॥੧॥
लेखा छोडि अलेखै छूटह हम निरगुन लेहु उबारी ॥१॥
Lekẖā cẖẖod alekẖai cẖẖūtah ham nirgun leho ubārī. ||1||
Please ignore my account; only then may I be saved. I am worthless - please, save me! ||1||

ਸਦ ਬਖਸਿੰਦੁ ਸਦਾ ਮਿਹਰਵਾਨਾ ਸਭਨਾ ਦੇਇ ਅਧਾਰੀ ॥
सद बखसिंदु सदा मिहरवाना सभना देइ अधारी ॥
Saḏ bakẖsinḏ saḏā miharvānā sabẖnā ḏee aḏẖārī.
You are always forgiving, and always merciful; You give support to all.

ਨਾਨਕ ਦਾਸ ਸੰਤ ਪਾਛੈ ਪਰਿਓ ਰਾਖਿ ਲੇਹੁ ਇਹ ਬਾਰੀ ॥੨॥੪॥੯॥
नानक दास संत पाछै परिओ राखि लेहु इह बारी ॥२॥४॥९॥
Nānak ḏās sanṯ pācẖẖai pario rākẖ leho ih bārī. ||2||4||9||
Slave Nanak follows the Path of the Saints; save him, O Lord, this time. ||2||4||9||

#OnenessWithTheCosmos #CosmicConsciousness #DivineGuidance #SurrenderToTheCosmos #UniversalBlessings 

Today, I am immersed in the soulful melody of "Yaad Piya Ki Aye," a Thumri composed by the great Maestro Bade Ghulam Ali Khan in memory of his beloved wife, who departed in 1932 when he was merely 30 years old. This timeless composition in raag bhinna shadaj has transcended generations, as many renowned artists have lent their voices to its beauty.

Among the versions sung by Rashid Khan and Kaushiki Chakraborty, I find Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan Sahib's rendition truly astounding, with his unmatched clarity in delivering intricate murkis and embellishments. While newer singers have added their unique improvisations, none can rival the masterful expression of Bade Ghulam Ali Khan Sahib.

The poignant lyrics, "I am yet young but my bed is forlorn! Alas, my youth is passing by," resonate deeply, reflecting the eternal longing and sorrow of lost love. Music has the power to immortalize love!




Lyrics and Translation

Composer : Bade Ghulam Ali Khan
Raga : Bhinna Shadaj

याद पिया की आये
यह दुःख सहा ना जाये- हाये राम

बाली उमरिया सूनी रे  (alt: री ) सजरिया
जोबन बीतो  (alt: बीता) जाये- हाये राम

बैरी कोयलिया कूक  सुनावे (alt: सुनाये  )
मुझ बिरहन का जियरा जलावे (alt: जलाये )
हाँ पी बिन रैन जगाये – हाये राम

Transliteration

yaad piya ki aaye
yeh dukh sahaa na jaaye - haye raam

baali umariya sun ri sajariya 
joban beeto jaye, haye raam

bairi koyaliya kook sunaye
mujh birhan ka jiyara jalaaye
haan - pi bin rain jagaaye, haye raam

Translation

Oh, my beloved's memories haunt me! 
Alas, I cannot endure this grief!

Though young, my bed is desolate; 
my youth is slipping away – Alas!

The cuckoo, my foe, sings its song, 
igniting the bereaved heart within me.
Indeed, I stay awake all night, without my beloved! Alas!

Some Nostalgic Poems

- Chitthi Aayi Hai - Panjkaj Udhas
- Vo Kaagaz ki Kashti - Jagjit Singh
- Yaad Piya Ki Aye - Bade Ghulam Ali Khan
- Yareya Rabb Karke Mainu - Shiv Kumar Batalvi
- Aksar Shab-e-Tanhai Main
- To a Butterfly




To A Butterfly

Williams Wordsworth

I'VE watched you now a full half-hour;
Self-poised upon that yellow flower
And, little Butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless!--not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!

This plot of orchard-ground is ours;
My trees they are, my Sister's flowers;
Here rest your wings when they are weary;
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!
Come often to us, fear no wrong;
Sit near us on the bough!
We'll talk of sunshine and of song,
And summer days, when we were young;
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.

STAY near me--do not take thy flight!
A little longer stay in sight!
Much converse do I find in thee,
Historian of my infancy!
Float near me; do not yet depart!
Dead times revive in thee:
Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art!
A solemn image to my heart,
My father's family!
Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time, when, in our childish plays,
My sister Emmeline and I
Together chased the butterfly!
A very hunter did I rush
Upon the prey:--with leaps and springs
I followed on from brake to bush;
But she, God love her, feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.

A nostalgic and spiritual poem


Through this poem we are encouraged to cherish the fleeting moments of joy and the innocence of childhood. The speaker's encounter with the butterfly serves as a metaphor for appreciating the beauty of nature and the simple pleasures of life, and also as a portal to memories from childhood. 

The poem begins with the speaker observing the butterfly, marveling at its stillness on a yellow flower. The poet expresses wonder at whether the butterfly is sleeping or feeding. The tranquility of the butterfly is contrasted with the anticipation of joy when it is awakened by the breeze and takes flight among the trees. This anticipation symbolizes the joyous moments in life that come unexpectedly.

The plot of orchard-ground mentioned in the poem represents a safe and welcoming space where the butterfly can find refuge. The poet invites the butterfly to come often and assures it of safety, creating a sense of belonging and harmony with nature.

As the poem progresses, the speaker's thoughts shift to reminiscing about his childhood days spent with his sister, Emmeline. They used to chase butterflies together, and the poet fondly recalls being a spirited hunter pursuing the butterfly, while his sister would delicately avoid disturbing the dust on its wings. 

Some Nostalgic Poems

- Chitthi Aayi Hai - Panjkaj Udhas
- Vo Kaagaz ki Kashti - Jagjit Singh
- Yaad Piya Ki Aye - Bade Ghulam Ali Khan
- Yareya Rabb Karke Mainu - Shiv Kumar Batalvi
- Aksar Shab-e-Tanhai Main
- To a Butterfly


I am reading Robert Frost's poem "Mending Wall" and thinking about a potential resolution of Russia's war on Ukraine. Here is the poem, followed by my thoughts. 



Mending Wall

BY ROBERT FROST

Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
‘Stay where you are until our backs are turned!’
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
‘Why do they make good neighbors? Isn’t it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.’ I could say ‘Elves’ to him,
But it’s not elves exactly, and I’d rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father’s saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’

Other poems by Robert Frost


Robert Frost's poem "Mending Wall" was published in 1914 as the first poem in his collection "North of Boston." The poem delves into the themes of human nature, tradition, isolation, and the boundaries that people create between themselves and others.

In the poem, the speaker and his neighbor come together each spring to mend the stone wall that separates their properties. The wall serves as a physical barrier between them, but it also symbolizes the emotional and psychological barriers that humans build to protect their individual spaces and identities.

The poem begins with the famous lines: "Something there is that doesn't love a wall," implying that the speaker is questioning the necessity of the wall and the tradition of rebuilding it each year. The speaker observes that nature itself seems to be against the wall, as it causes damage to the wall through various forces like freezing and thawing.

The neighbor, however, adheres to the old adage: "Good fences make good neighbors," expressing a traditional belief that setting boundaries helps maintain peaceful relationships. He is committed to the practice of rebuilding the wall because it was a tradition handed down to him by his father.

Throughout the poem, the speaker challenges the necessity of the wall and tries to persuade his neighbor to consider if it is truly required. He questions the purpose of the wall, as their properties are separated by woods and pine trees, not livestock that might need to be contained. The speaker wonders if the wall is just an old habit, a reflexive response to keep what is "other" at bay.

"Mending Wall" explores the tension between the desire for individuality and privacy versus the need for connection and community. The neighbor represents tradition and a conservative approach to maintaining boundaries, while the speaker embodies a more progressive mindset that questions the need for such barriers.

In the end of the poem, despite the speaker's attempts to challenge the tradition, the neighbor remains resolute in his beliefs. The wall continues to be rebuilt, suggesting that these barriers and divisions are deeply ingrained in human behavior, and the poem leaves the readers pondering the complexities of human nature and the desire for both separation and connection.

The resolution of the Ukrainian conflict can be approached in two ways: mending the wall or reaching an agreement that walls are unnecessary. Until one of these paths is chosen, innocent lives will continue to be lost. It is crucial to find common ground and establish a peaceful solution to prevent further suffering and tragedy.

Other poems by Robert Frost


People say I am singing songs, but what I am really doing is weaving a garland of oneness. I am weaving Guru Nanak's garland.  This new composition is based on an inspiring couplet by Guru Nanak which I have not heard anyone else sing:
Kaaya komal phul gun nanak gupas maal
Eni phooli rau kare avar ki chuniye daal

I pluck delicate flowers of actions from my own body and weave this garland
These are the flowers that my love appreciates, what other branch should I pluck from?
- Guru Nanak


Poetry: Guru Nanak & Guru Angad 
Raag: Shudha Basant 
Taal: 20 beat cycle (taal Arjun) 
Saxophone: Prasant Radakrishnan 
Music: Shivpreet Singh

Lyrics:


Kāiā kūmal phul guṇ Nānak gupas māl.
Ėnī fulī rao kare avar kė cẖuṇīah dāl. ||1||
- Guru Nanak


Nānak ṯinā basanṯ hai jinĥ gẖar vasiā kanṯ.
Jin ke kanṯ ḏisāpurī se ahinis firėh jalanṯ. ||2||
- Guru Angad

Meditation on Some of the Words  

Kāiā means body and kūmal could mean either soft (or compassionate) or leaf. Phul guṇ means flowers virtue. On my soft body there are flowers of virtue. These are the flowers that my love appreciates, what other branch (other than my body) should I pluck flowers from (for offering as prayers). 

Indeed, this perspective offers a beautiful lens through which to view our inner growth. Our virtues, like temporary blossoms, grace the landscape of our character, imparting their delicate beauty and fragrance. As we cultivate these virtues, they become the building blocks of our character, shaping the essence of who we are. 

These virtues continue to shine throughout our life, through its ups and downs.  I am reminded of Robert Frost's lines about why he prefers leaves over flowers - because they continue to be compassionate at night: Leaves compared with Flowers. 

The Garland of Guru Nanak


These compositions are in continuation of the garland that Guru Nanak weaves.  To weave this garland the flowers come to me.  Fortunately, these are some of the most beautiful flowers that can be found ... the flowers from rare poetry from Guru Nanak and Guru Angad who shared these flowers with each other in Kartarpur in a love filled meditative evening after the daily toil of farming ... the flowers of raag, in this case raag basant, the flowers of musicians around the world who inspire me, in this case Carnatic Saxophonist Prasant Radhakrishnan who's beautiful music you can find here, ... the flowers of rhythm, in this case a rare 20-beat cycle (Arjun taal).  While I can these flowers mine, but they are as well yours ... to be enchanted with and to be inspired from.  This garland is mine but in essence it is every seekers. 

All of us seekers have Guru Nanak's opportunity of weaving a garland in our life.  Each day we breathe on this earth, we have the opportunity to weave a new flower into the ever-growing garland of oneness. Just as a flower perfumes its surroundings, our best actions imbue the world with a fragrant essence of kindness. And kindness, like Guru Nanak says, is the basis of spirituality.  These kind-bodied flowers (kaaya komal phul gun), our compassionate actions, inspire others to do good by their aroma, and in that way. However, unlike flowers that spurt in our gardens, they never die.  They constitute the lasting imprint we leave behind, our legacy that transcends time.

For those who wield the power of words, such as poets like Rabindranath Tagore or Walt Whitman, their poems about oneness become the exquisite flowers that grace this garland. With eloquence and artistry, they weave verses that evoke emotions, capturing the essence of the human experience. Similarly, singers like Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Bhai Mardana express their innermost sentiments through melodic blooms, their songs resonating with the hearts of listeners, spreading joy, solace, or inspiration. Composers like Mozart and Ravi Shankar, too, contribute to this floral tapestry, their compositions like intricate petals that intertwine harmoniously, creating symphonies that touch the souls of those who encounter them. And let us not forget the artists, who paint, sculpt, and create with passion, their art pieces becoming vibrant flowers that capture the imagination and evoke profound emotions.

Throughout the seeker's life, he continues to weave these flowers in this garland, each one a testament to our unique gifts and passions, and equally our borrowed learnings that the seeker gives his own touches to. With each act of creation, each thoughtful deed, the seeker contributes to the ever-evolving beauty of the garland. The essence of this garland, composed of these flowers with boundless beauty, is what ultimately shapes our legacy. It is a reflection of the compassion, beauty, and creativity we infused into the world.

Dear seeker, as we embark on this journey of existence, let us carry within us the awareness that our life can be the garland of the beautiful flowers of our actions.  With every petal we add to the garland, we contribute to a more compassionate and vibrant world, ensuring that our legacy remains forever intertwined with the interconnectedness of all things. Let us embrace the opportunities that arise to spread kindness, understanding, and love and with every choice we make, may we be mindful of the impact it has on others and the world at large.

In this way, may our life become a radiant bouquet, an inspiring garland, a testament to the beauty that can unfold when we infuse our best compassionate actions. As the bouquet grows, let its fragrance linger in the hearts of those we touch, and let it inspire others to nurture their own unique flowers. May the legacy of humanity continue to flourish in the light of Guru Nanak and inspire generations yet to come about oneness.

Guru Nanak's Navai Kai Rang


Now i lay (with everywhere around)

Now i lay (with everywhere around)
me (the great dim deep sound
of rain; and of always and of nowhere) and

what a gently welcoming darkestness -

now i lay me down (in a most steep
more than music) feeling that sunlight is
(life and day are) only loaned: whereas
night is given (night and death and the rain

are given; and given is how beautifully snow)

now i lay me down to dream of (nothing
i or any somebody or you
can begin to begin to imagine)

something which nobody may keep.
now i lay me down to dream of Spring

e. e. cummings
(Oct 14, 1894 - Sept 3, 1962)


As I delve into e. e. cummings' poem, "now i lay (with everywhere around)," two lines have captured my attention, and they have prompted me to reflect deeply on the nature of life and death. These lines have struck a chord with me, and I find their connection to Kabir's philosophy, "phool shankar deo" – the flower is Shiva, to be particularly intriguing. Together, these two lines underscore the idea that death, like Shiva and the flower, is an essential part of the cosmic order. 

In the poem, cummings writes, "sunlight is (life and day are) only loaned: whereas night is given." These words encapsulate a distinctive perspective on the ephemeral quality of life. It's as if life, symbolized by "sunlight" and the experiences of the day, is but a temporary loan, a gift with an expiration date. This viewpoint urges us to acknowledge the impermanence of our earthly existence and to treasure each fleeting moment. It serves as a reminder that the vibrant experiences of life, like sunlight, are transient and finite.

Conversely, cummings contrasts this with the idea that "night is given." Here, night symbolizes death. In this context, death is not something borrowed or temporary; it is an intrinsic part of our human journey, something "given" to us. This perspective challenges the conventional fear of death and suggests that it is a natural and inevitable component of life's cycle. It implies that death is not an end but a transition, a step in the ongoing journey of existence.

Now, I turn to Kabir's philosophy of "phool shankar deo" – the flower is Shiva. In this belief system, the fragile and ephemeral nature of a flower symbolizes life, while Shiva, traditionally seen as the god of destruction, is associated with it. Shiva's role as the destroyer is not merely about causing destruction; it's about making way for renewal and new beginnings. In this interpretation, death becomes an essential part of the cosmic cycle, much like the flower's role in the grand scheme of things.

When I connect these two philosophies, cummings' portrayal of death as a natural and necessary part of life aligns beautifully with Kabir's perspective on the flower and Shiva. Just as Shiva's destructive aspect paves the way for new growth and life, death, in cummings' view, becomes a process that rejuvenates, making space for the eventual emergence of spring – a season symbolizing renewal and the birth of new life.

This connection offers a holistic and harmonious perspective on the cycle of life and death. It transforms the concept of death from something ominous and fearful into a vital part of the ongoing cosmic dance. Death, much like the flower, plays a crucial role in the ever-turning wheel of existence, allowing for the continuous cycle of life, symbolized by the arrival of spring.

Overall, the poem encourages us to embrace the cyclical nature of life and death, finding solace in the belief that, like the flower, death is not an end but a transformative stage that leads to rebirth and the eternal renewal of life.
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SHIVPREET SINGH

Singing oneness!
- Shivpreet Singh

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