Shivpreet Singh
Shivpreet Singh
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I have been contemplating the following mantra from Bhagat Ravidas, and wrote the following poem based on my thinking. 

ਪੜੀਐ ਗੁਨੀਐ ਨਾਮੁ ਸਭੁ ਸੁਨੀਐ
ਅਨਭਉ ਭਾਉ ਨ ਦਰਸੈ ॥
You can read, reflect, hear all the names on and on.
but it is the experience of love makes love dawn.

Being the Seed

I do not wish to read oneness,
or even to understand it.
I want to be the curve of Om.

I do not want to read truth,
or memorize all its names.
I want to live its pulse.

I don't want to read about the doings,
or analyze their ways.
I want to create myself whole.

I do not want to act brave,
or write poems about courage.
I want to be the space that scares fear.

I have already seen forgiveness.
I no longer wish to forgive.
I want to dwell where there is no other.

I do not long to conquer time.
I want to be the still point inside it,
not a clock, but the silence between ticks.

I do not seek escape from birth and death.
I want to know the place
where neither arrives.

I do not need proof of self-existence.
I want to be the light
that doesn’t have a switch.

I do not ask for the Guru’s gift
as something outside me.
I want to dissolve into blessing.

Listening to this today today, and working on a translation:  

Lyrics


Tere ishq ne dera mere andar keeta
Bhar ke zehar pyala, main taan aape peeta
Jhabde wahundi tabiba, nahi te main mar gayaan
Tere ishq nachaaiyaan, kar ke thaiyaa thaiyaa

Chup gaye ve sooraj, bahar reh gayi laali
Ve main sadqe hova, devein murjey vikhali
Peera main bhul gayaan, tere naal na gaiyaan
Tere ishq nachaaiyaan, kar ke thaiyaa thaiyaa

Ais ishq de kolon mainu hatak na maaye
Laahu jaandey berrey, kehrram mor laya
Meri akal jun bhulli, naal mhaniyaan dey gaiyaan
Tere ishq nachaaiyaan, kar ke thaiyaa thaiyaa

Ais ishq di jhangi vich mor bulenda
Sanu qibla ton kaaba, sohna yaar disenda
Saanu ghayal karke, phir khabar na laaiyaan
Tere ishq nachaaiyaan, kar ke thaiyaa thaiyaa

Bullah Shah, na aounda mainu inayat de buhe
Jisne mainu awaye, chole saave te suhe
Jaan main maari aye, addi mil paya hai vahaiya
Tere ishq nachaaiyaan, kar ke thaiyaa thaiyaa


Translation:


Your love has taken up residence within me,
I drank the poisoned chalice with my own hands.
O wandering healer, if you do not come, I will perish—
Your love has spun me into a frenzied dance.

The sun has slipped away, leaving only its crimson glow.
I would give my life for one more glimpse of you.
My wounds were forgotten, but I did not follow when you called—
Your love has spun me into a frenzied dance.

Do not try to turn me away from this path of love.
Can you halt the boats that drift upon the tides?
Foolish, I cast aside my wisdom and followed the boatman—
Your love has spun me into a frenzied dance.

A peacock cries in the wild grove of passion,
For me, my beloved is both Qibla and Kaaba.
You wounded me and never turned back to see—
Your love has spun me into a frenzied dance.

Bulleh Shah lingers at the door of Inayat,
Who clothed me in robes of green and red.
I leaped, but he caught me before I could fly—
Your love has spun me into a frenzied dance.

Poem - 


Counting Notes at Baba Bulleh Shah’s

The singer at Baba Bulleh Shah’s shrine
counts notes in one hand,
sings of love and longing with the other.

It is a delicate balancing act,
like patting your head while rubbing your stomach,
or reading a love letter
while checking the price of wheat.

I wonder if the words—
Tere Ishq nachaaiyaan, kar ke thaiyaa thaiyaa—
are so deeply etched in his heart
that they spill out effortlessly,
the way breath continues
even when we forget to inhale,

or if they are nothing more
than a familiar refrain,
a worn path in the brain,
something to be sung
while the real work of life
is done in the margins.

And at the edge of the night sky,
no stars appear—
or perhaps I cannot count
while desire still flickers.
Launching this shabad as part of Guru Nanak's 555th birth centenary celebrations. I also wrote a poem inspired by this shabad while I was visiting New Jersey last week.  For me the celebrations continue long after the supposed birthday is over. May the Guru continue to bless you!



Here is an excerpt from my poem:

Where you belong

Some moments you don’t want to end—
standing across the Hudson,
Manhattan glowing like a promise,
its lights flickering into the water ...


 


On my birthday this year, my daughter drew a picture of me. It reminded me of the following limerick I had recently read:

There was a young man who said "Damn!
I perceive with regret that I am
But a creature that moves
In predestinate grooves
I'm not even a bus, I'm a tram."

It also reminded me of a playful limerick that my daughter wrote about me:

There was a girl named Geet
She was incredibly sweet
Her dad was fat
Nobody likes that
But she loved him head to feet


More background on the first limerick: 

I have seen several versions of the first limerick here, attributed to Maurice E. Hare, 1905. The reply was authored by Nicholas Humphrey, and first appeared in Nicholas Humphrey, “Predispositions to learn,” in Constraints on Learning, ed. R. A. Hinde and J. Stevenson-Hinde, pp. 301- 304, Academic Press, London, 1973. To me, these limericks address the topics of free will, determinism, and biological constraints on development.

There was a young man who said "Damn!
I perceive with regret that I am
But a creature that moves
In predestinate grooves
I'm not even a bus, I'm a tram."

"Young man you should stay your complaint,
For the grooves that you call a constraint
Are there to contrive
That you learn to survive;
Trams arrive, buses may or they mayn't."

The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations renders the limerick this way:

There once was an old man who said, ‘Damn!
It is borne in upon me I am
An engine that moves In determinate grooves,
I’m not even a bus, I’m a tram.


First Jane's poem, and then my own musing on singing songs. 



The Poet

She is working now, in a room
not unlike this one,
the one where I write, or you read.
Her table is covered with paper.
The light of the lamp would be
tempered by a shade, where the bulb's
single harshness might dissolve,
but it is not, she has taken it off.
Her poems? I will never know them,
though they are the ones I most need.
Even the alphabet she writes in
I cannot decipher. Her chair --
Let us imagine whether it is leather
or canvas, vinyl or wicker. Let her
have a chair, her shadeless lamp,
the table. Let one or two she loves
be in the next room. Let the door
be closed, the sleeping ones healthy.
Let her have time, and silence,
enough paper to make mistakes and go on.

- Jane Hirshfield



Give yourself

It is not easy to sing
it is hard says 
the Guru

What makes it 
hard specifically
are two steps: 

First,  deciding what you are going to sing.
Second, having the patience 
to sing this song. 

A good singer
gives himself
the time
the patience
and the courage
to sing your song ...

whatever his song is ...
a home, a family, a bridge,
a poem, a friendship, a painting.
He lets himself expand his horizons.

And if he get lucky in the end
he gets to hear your song
in his own voice

- Shivpreet Singh

Today we need to pick ourselves up,
unruffle our feathers and renew our singing.
We need to soar into this winter knowing
that a spring awaits around the corner.

We need to make new love songs
-- not the flaky and fake ones --
real bold silver pinions of equality
that wave over our heads.

We need to perch on all her branches
to keep spilling their essence
until we have infected all the rest
and can hear America singing again.
                                                   - Shivpreet Singh


More Songs of American Renewal


1. Long, too long America - Walt Whitman (written after Civil War)

Long, too long America,
Traveling roads all even and peaceful you learn'd from joys and prosperity only,
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish, advancing, grappling with direst fate and recoiling not,
And now to conceive and show to the world what your children en-masse really are,
(For who except myself has yet conceiv'd what your children en-masse really are?)


2. Hope - Emily Brontë

Hope

Hope was but a timid friend;
She sat without the grated den,
Watching how my fate would tend,
Even as selfish-hearted men.

She was cruel in her fear;
Through the bars one dreary day,
I looked out to see her there,
And she turned her face away!

Like a false guard, false watch keeping,
Still, in strife, she whispered peace;
She would sing while I was weeping;
If I listened, she would cease.

False she was, and unrelenting;
When my last joys strewed the ground,
Even Sorrow saw, repenting,
Those sad relics scattered round;

Hope, whose whisper would have given
Balm to all my frenzied pain,
Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven,
Went, and ne’er returned again!


3. To Hope - John Keats

To Hope

When by my solitary hearth I sit,
When no fair dreams before my ‘mind’s eye’ flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head.

Whene’er I wander, at the fall of night,
Where woven boughs shut out the moon’s bright ray,
Should sad Despondency my musings fright,
And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away,
Peep with the moon-beams through the leafy roof,
And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof.

Should Disappointment, parent of Despair,
Strive for her son to seize my careless heart;
When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air,
Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart:
Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright,
And fright him as the morning frightens night!

Whene’er the fate of those I hold most dear
Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow,
O bright-eyed Hope, my morbid fancy cheer;
Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow:
Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head!


4. Grace - Jo Harjo

Grace
Joy Harjo

Grace

- for Darlene Wind and James Welch

I think of Wind and her wild ways the year we had nothing to lose and lost it anyway in the cursed country of the fox. We still talk about that winter, how the cold froze imaginary buffalo on the stuffed horizon of snowbanks. The haunting voices of the starved and mutilated broke fences, crashed our thermostat dreams, and we couldn’t stand it one more time. So once again we lost a winter in stubborn memory, walked through cheap apartment walls, skated through fields of ghosts into a town that never wanted us, in the epic search for grace.

Like Coyote, like Rabbit, we could not contain our terror and clowned our way through a season of false midnights. We had to swallow that town with laughter, so it would go down easy as honey. And one morning as the sun struggled to break ice, and our dreams had found us with coffee and pancakes in a truck stop along Highway 80, we found grace.
   
I could say grace was a woman with time on her hands, or a white buffalo escaped from memory. But in that dingy light it was a promise of balance. We once again understood the talk of animals, and spring was lean and hungry with the hope of children and corn.
   
I would like to say, with grace, we picked ourselves up and walked into the spring thaw. We didn’t; the next season was worse. You went home to Leech Lake to work with the tribe and I went south. And, Wind, I am still crazy. I know there is something larger than the memory of a dispossessed people. We have seen it.

5. “Hope” is the thing with feathers - Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

6. From The Cure of Troy - Seamus Heaney

This is from Seamus Heaney'a poetic drama The Cure at Troy, a version of a play by the Greek dramatist Sophocles (fifth century BCE), and addresses questions of personal morality, deceit and political expediency, suffering and healing. 

Human beings suffer.
They torture one another.
They get hurt and get hard.
No poem or play or song
Can fully right a wrong
Inflicted and endured.

History says, don’t hope
On this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed-for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.

So hope for a great sea-change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that further shore
Is reachable from here.
Believe in miracle
And cures and healing wells.

Call miracle self-healing:
The utter, self-revealing
Double-take of feeling.
If there’s fire on the mountain
Or lightning and storm
And a god speaks from the sky

That means someone is hearing
The outcry and the birth-cry
of new life at its term.
It means once in a lifetime
That justice can rise up
And hope and history rhyme.

7. I too - Langston Hughes

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.

Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.




I was toying with the idea of translating Bhagat Namdev's poem "Moko Taar Le" as "Ferry me across" and found an interesting children's poem by Christina Rossetti:

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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



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

Who Has Seen the Wind
- Christina Rossetti

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

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


Some of her other popular poems include: 

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

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

Remember

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


Interested in Going to Hell?


Whats interesting?
Any mythology 
is fascinating, 
especially 
Greek!

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

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

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

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

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

So
either
good vision
or good singing
ferry the dead across

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

How 
to meditate



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


Guru Arjan

Meditate Upon the One
More on Simro Simar Simar Sukh Pao

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

Bhagat Kabir 

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

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

Guru Tegh Bahadur

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

(See Raam Simar - Guru Tegh Bahadur below)

Bhagat Namdev

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

(See Raam Sanehi - Bhagat Namdev below)


Texts of Quoted Shabads

Raam Sanehi - Bhagat Namdev

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

Raam Simar - Bhagat Kabir

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Raam Simar - Guru Tegh Bahadur


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Epishlok


Rain taps on my head 
Bithal Bithal Bithal
And my mind dances
on every falling syllable.

—after Namdev


After the Drought in California

Because it rained—
for the first time
in a hundred years—
I forgot where I was.

Drops sizzled
on the earth’s cracked tongue.
Children chased puddles,
folded boats from junk mail,
drank the elixir
straight from nature’s tap—
like it wasn’t even India.

Mirrors bloomed in gutters.
Fish swam upside down through sky.

Upashlok

The pacific ocean flows
into Sacramento river
and is empty now
- after Kabir

I heard a very interesting quote from Seamus Heaney from Joe Biden's speech yesterday: ‘History says / Don’t hope on this side of the grave / But then, once in a lifetime / The longed-for tidal wave / Of justice can rise up / And hope and history rhyme.’

I started reading some of Heaney's other poems today and found a very interesting poem "Digging." Here is a decent reading and analysis of this poem I found on youtube (there are several others as well):  


You can find the poem here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47555/digging

To me, this poem is about being inspired by your past generations to continue to do the hard work they did. But you don't necessarily have to have the same instruments. Heaney's father and grandfather used to dig, and as he recalls, they dug quite well ... deep and wide. He wants to do that, but instead of with a spade, he wants to do it with a pen. Somewhat similar to the analogy of singing. As long as there is love, your digging is deep, your singing is sweet, no matter what instruments accompany your singing. 

Digging even more subtle

His grandfather uses more muscle
Down the window of my laptop
And Heaney digs with his pen
A finer kind of digging
As generations go on
to reach good turf
we need even less 
to unearth oneness
As I dig with my breath
And this is even more subtle


Gardening
 

 Gardening, Field, Potatoes, Harvest, Dig, Spade, Earth
I really love the poetry of Dr. Allama Iqbal for its beauty and creativity.

Today I am listening to Shikwa, meaning "Complaint," or Allama Iqbal's most famous poem in Urdu. It consists of two parts: Shikwa and Jawab-e-Shikwa, meaning "Complaint" and "Response to the Complaint," respectively. It is surmised that these poems draw inspiration from the renowned works of John Milton, namely "Paradise Lost" and "Paradise Regained." Shikwa showcases Iqbal's masterful use of Urdu vocabulary and highlights the achievements of Muslims.

In Shikwa, Iqbal assumes the role of an oppressed and frustrated Muslim who complains to Allah Almighty about the challenges faced by Muslims. The second part, Jawab-e-Shikwa, presents a hypothetical scenario where Allah Himself responds to the grievances of the complaining Muslim. 

A translation of Shiqwa is below. And I wrote a poem inspired by this: 

Why God Doesn’t Visit Anymore

Poetry, you see,
was invented so chairs could talk back,
so shadows could finally say
what they really think about lamps.

At first, it was small stuff—
a pigeon grieving the loss
of its mate to a glass window,
a spoon lamenting its demotion
after the arrival of chopsticks.

But then poets got involved.
And you know how they are—
always feeling too much,
like a raindrop is secretly
a metaphor for betrayal.

Soon, entire villages
were speaking through metaphors,
and even God, I hear,
scribbled a few lines
on the back of a thundercloud
before giving up.

Too much suffering, He said.
Everyone’s asking for justice
and free Wi-Fi.
No one wants to be misunderstood
in blank verse anymore.

That’s why He doesn’t visit.
Every time He does,
someone writes a poem about it—
and suddenly
He’s responsible
for everything.







Shikwa - Transliterated Poem and Translation


Shikwa
THE COMPLAINT

Stanza (1)

Kyun Ziyaan Kaar Banun, Sood Framosh Rahun
Fikr-e-Farda Na Karum, Mahw-e-Ghum-e-Dosh Rahun

 Why should I choose the loser’s role? Forbear to seek what gain I may?
Nor think of what the morrow holds, But brood o’er woes of yesterday?


Naale Bulbul Ke Sunoon, Aur Hama Tan Gosh Rahun
Humnawa Main Bhi Koi Gul Hun Ke Khamosh Rahun

Why should my ears enraptured hear the plaintive notes of Philomel?
Fellow‐bard! a rose am I to lose me in sweet music’s swell?


Jurrat Aamoz Miri Taab-e-Sakhun Hai Mujh Ko
Shikwa Allah Se Khakam Badahan Hai Mujh Ko

For I too have the gift of song which gives me courage to complain,
But ah! ‘tis none but God Himself whom I, in sorrow, must arraign!

Stanza (2)

Hai Baja Shewa-e-Tasleem Mein Mashoor Hain Hum
Qissa-e-Dard Sunate Hain Ke Majboor Hain Hum

I grant that we have earned repute as ever reconciled to Fate,
But to You still a tale of pain I can no longer help narrate.


Saaz-e-Khamosh Hain, Faryad Se Maamoor Hain Hum
Nala Ata Hai Agar Lab Pe To Maazoor Hain Hum

Though we may seem like voiceless lyres, within, imprisoned anguish cries;
Its urge compels, and I obey, Framing these plaintive melodies.


Ae Khuda Shikwa-e-Arbab-e-Wafa Bhi Sun Le
Khugar-e-Hamd Se Thora Sa Gila Bhi Sun Le

Hear You, O God! these sad complaints from those of proven fealty;
From lips accustomed but to praise hear You these words in blame of You!

Stanza (3)

Thi To Maujood Azal Se Hi Teri Zaat-e-Qadim
Phool Tha Zaib-e-Chaman, Par Na Preshan Thi Shamim

From when eternal Time began, Your Timeless Self had also been;
But then no breeze its sweetness spread though the Rose reigned the garden’s queen.


Shart Insaaf Hai, Ae Sahib-e-Altaf-e-Amim
Boo-e-Gul Phailti Kis Tarah Jo Hoti Na Nasim

Canst You, in justice, but confess, O Lord! from whom all favours flow,
Had not the south wind toiled in love the world Your fragrance would not know?


Hum Ko Jamiat-e-Khatir Ye Preshani Thi
Warna Ummat Tere Mehboob (S.A.W.) Ki Diwani Thi

The glad travail we sought for You Rejoiced our souls and was our pride—
Thinkst You the followers of Your Friend Insanely spread Your Truth so wide?

Stanza (4)

Hum Se Pehle Tha Ajab Tere Jahan Ka Manzar
Kahin Masjood The Pathar, Kahin Maabood Shajar

Before we came, how strange a sight was this most beauteous world of Thine (yours)!
For here to stones men bowed their heads, and there in trees did ‘gods’ enshrine!


Khugar-e-Paikar-e-Mahsoos Thi Insaan Ki Nazar
Manta Phir Koi Un-Dekhe Khuda Ko Kyunkar

Their unenlightened minds could seize nought else but what their eyes could see,
You know, Lord, Your writ ran not—Man neither knew nor worshipped Thee (You)!


Tujh Ko Maalum Hai Leta Tha Koi Naam Tera?
Quwwat-e-Baazoo-e-Muslim Ne Kiya Kaam Tera

And canst You say that even once one of these did Your name recite?
It was the might of Muslim arms fulfilled Your task and gave them Light.

Stanza (5)

Bas Rahe The Yahin Saljuq Bhi, Toorani Bhi
Ahl-e-Chin Cheen Mein, Iran Mein Sasaani Bhi

Yet once there lived the Seljuks here, Turanians too, and wise Chinese,
Sasanians drew their breath and thrived In rose‐perfumed Iranian breeze;


Issi Maamoore Mein Aabad The Yoonani Bhi
Issi Dunya Mein Yahudi Bhi The, Nusraani Bhi

And elsewhere in Your peopled world the Greeks of Yunan held their sway,
While sons of Israel side by side with Christian nations had their day.


Par Tere Naam Pe Talwar Uthai Kis Ne
Baat Jo Bigri Huwi Thi, Woh Banaai Kis Ne

But which among these nations raised the sacred sword in holy fight,
Self‐consecrated to Your cause, to set their crazy world aright?

Stanza (6)

The Hameen Ek Tire Maarka Aaraaon Mein!
Khushkion Mein Kabhi Larte, Kabhi Dariyaon Mein,

’Tis we and we alone who thronged as warriors on Your fields of fray,
And now upon the land we fought and now upon the salt sea spray.


Deen Azaanen Kabhi Europe Ke Kaleesaaon Mein
Kabhi Africa Ke Tapte Huwe Sehraaon Mein.

We made our Azan’s call resound beneath proud spires in Western lands,
And made that magic melody thrill over Afric’s burning sands.


Shan Ankhon Mein Na Jachti Thi Jahan Daron Ki
Kalima Parhte The Hum Chaon Mein Talwaron Ki

The pageantries of mighty kings to us were shows that mattered not,
Beneath the shade of blades unsheathed in Kalima we glory sought.

Stanza (7)

Hum Jo Jeete The To Jnagon Ki Musibat Ke Liye
Aur Merte The Tere Naam Ki Azmat Ke Liye

Our only life was then to face the perils of Your holy wars;
To glorify Your name we died, adorned with hallowed battle scars.


Thi Na Kuch Taeg-Zani Apni Hukumat Ke Liye
Sar-Bakaf Phirte The Kya Dehar Mein Doulat Ke Liye

Not lust for power for our own sakes our drawn‐sword’s playfulness inspired,
Nor roamed we hand‐in‐glove with death for worldly riches we desired.


Qaum Apni Jo Zar-o-Maal-e-Jahan Par Marti,
But Faroshi Ke Iwaz But Shikni Kyon Karti?

Our people, had they set their hearts on this world’s riches or its gold,
Not idol‐breaking would have gone but idols would have bought and sold.

Stanza (8)

Tal Na Sakte The Agar Jang Mein Arh Jate The
Paon Sheron Ke Bhi Maidan Se Ukhar Jate The

We stood our ground like rocks when once the foe had met our phalanx dread;
Before our might the bravest quailed and, vanquished, from the battle fled.


Tujh Se Sarkash Huwa Koi To Bighar Jate The
Taeg Kya Cheez Hai, Hum Toup Se Larh Jate The

And those who offered You affront our swift, relentless fury faced,
Their mightiest arms we set at nought, Their insolence and pride abased.


Naqsh Tauheed Ka Har Dil Pe Bithaya Hum Ne
Zer-e-Khanjar Bhi Yeh Paigham Sunaya Hum Ne

On all men’s minds we set Your seal, Your tawhid’s firm and sure impress—
The selfsame message preached our lips when swords danced high in battle’s stress.

Stanza (9)

Tu Hi Keh De Ke Ukhara Dar-e-Khyber Kis Ne
Sheher Qaiser Ka Jo Tha, Us Ko Kiya Sar Kis Ne

Declare You whose fierce valor once did Khyber’s barriers overthrow?
Or whose resistless might once laid Famed Caesar’s proudest cities low?



Tore Makhluq Khudawandon Ke Paikar Kis Ne
Kaat Kar Rakh Diye Kuffaar Ke Lashkar Kis Ne

Who smashed to dust man’s handwrought gods, those things of straw and earth and clay?
And who did unbelieving hosts to spread Your name and glory slay?


Kis Ne Thanda Kiya Atishkuda-e-Iran Ko?
Kis Ne Phir Zinda Kiya Tazkara-e-Yazdaan Ko?

And who was it that quenched and cooled the fiery urns of fair Iran?
And in that land did once again revive the worship of Yazdan?

Stanza (10)

Kon Si Qoum Faqat Teri Talabgar Huwi
Aur Tere Liye Zehmat Kash-e-Paikaar Huwi

Among those nations, was there one who craved You as we craved and sought?
Or risked the perils of fell war that Your Divinest will be wrought?


Kis Ki Shamsheer Jahangeer, Jahandar Huwi
Kis Ki Takbeer Se Dunya Teri Baidar Huwi

Whose was that conquest‐thirsty sword which won and held the world in fee?
And whose the Takbeer‐sounding call, which wakened all the world to You?


Kis Ki Haibat Se Sanam Sehme Huwe Rehte The
Munh Ke Bal Gir Ke 'HU WA-ALLAH HU AHAD' Kehte The

Whose was the fateful wrath which made all idols shrink in terror just?
“There is no god but God,” they cried, as crumbling down they kissed the dust.

Stanza (11)

Aa Gaya Ain Laraai Mein Agar Waqt-e-Namaz
Qibla Ru Ho Ke Zameen Bos Huwi Qoum-e-Hijaz

 When worship’s ordained hour was come, and furious raged the battle’s fray,
Those men of Hijaz, staunch in You, facing Your Ka‘ba, bowed to pray.


Ek Hi Saf Mein Khare Ho Gaye Mahmood-o-Ayaz,
No Koi Banda Raha Aur Na Koi Banda Nawaz.

Mahmood the king and slave Ayaz, in line, as equals, stood arrayed,
The lord was no more lord to slave: while both to the One Master prayed.


Banda-o-Sahib-o-Mauhtaaj-o-Ghani Aik Huwe
Teri Sarkar Mein Pohanche To Sabhi Aik Huwe

Slave or slave’s master, rich or poor, no sense of difference then felt,
For each a brother was to each when in Your Presence, Lord, they knelt.

Stanza (12)

Mehfil-e-Kon-o-Makan Mein Sehar-o-Sham Phire
Mai-e-Tauheed Ko Lekar Sifat-e-Jam Phire

And You do know we went about at sunrise or when stars did shine,
In banquet‐halls of Time and Space, like goblets, filled with tawhid’s wine


Koh Mein, Dasht Mein Le Kar Tera Pegham Phire
Aur Maaloom Hai Tujh Ko, Kabhi Nakaam Phire !

Both heights and lowlands we traversed to spread Your message; O glad pain!
Not even once, You know well, we strove against the world in vain.


Dasht To Dasht Hain, Darya Bhi Na Chhore Hum Ne
Bahr-e-Zulmaat Mein Daura Diye Ghore Hum Ne

Not only land we bore Your Word glorious across the heaving seas,
Upon our steed of zeal, we rode unto their darkest boundaries!

Stanza (13)

Safah-e-Dahar Se Baatil Ko Mitaya Hum Ne
Nau-e-Insaan Ko Ghulami Se Chhuraya Hum Ne

We who removed from this world’s book the leaves which were with falsehood stained,
We who, from tyrant ignorance, The prisoned human race unchained,


Tere Kaabe Ko Jabeenon Se Basaya Hum Ne
Tere Quran Ko Seenon Se Lagaya Hum Ne

We who with myriad sajdas filled Your Holy Kaʹba’s hallowed shrine,
Whose bosoms reverently held Your great and glorious Book Divine—


Phir Bhi Hum Se Yeh Gila Hai Ke Wafadar Nahin
Hum Wafadar Nahin, Tu Bhi To Dildar Nahin!

If our meed still the obloquy that we have shirked the Faithful’s part,
How then canst You make claim to be the kindly faith‐compelling heart?

Stanza (14)

Ummatain Aur Bhi Hain, In Mein Gunahgar Bhi Hain
Ejz Wale Bhi Hain, Mast-e-Mai-e-Pindar Bhi Hain

For there are those of other faiths Among whom many sinners ,
Some humble, others puffed with pride, Drunken in their effrontery;


In Mein Kahil Bhi Hain, Ghafil Bhi Hain, Hushyar Bhi Hain
Saikron Hain Ke Tere Naam Se Baizar Bhi Hain

If some have vision, thousands are of little worth, neglectful, worse;
And millions upon millions live from Your dear, glorious name averse.


Rehmatain Hain Teri Aghiyar Ke Kashaanon Par
Barq Girti Hai To Bechare Musalmanon Par

Yet see how still Your bounties rain on roofs 0f unbelieving clans,
While strikes Your thunder‐bolt the homes of all‐forbearing Mussalmans!

Stanza (15)

Boott Sanam Khanon Mein Kehte Hain, Musalman Gye
Hai Khushi In Ko Ke Kaabe Ke Nigehban Gye

In idol‐houses, hark! they say, “Behold, the Muslim star sinks low!
How glad they are that now at last Your Kaʹba’s brave protectors go!


Manzil-e-dehr Se Unthon Ke Hudi Khawan Gye
Apni Baghlon Mein Dabaye Huwe Quran Gye

They say, “The world is well rid now of hymn‐reciting camel‐men,
Their Quran folded in their arms, At last they hie them from our ken!


Khandah Zan Kufr Hai, Ehsas Tujhe Hai Ke Nahin
Apni Touheed Ka Kuch Paas Tujhe Hai Ke Nahin

Thus they rejoice who own You not; Yet still unmindful seemest You
Of Yours own One‐ness, Your Tawhid—Are You so unregarding now?

Stanza (16)

Ye Shikayatt Nahin, Hain Un Ke Khazane Maamur
Nahin Mehfil Mein Jinhain Baat Bhi Karne Ka Shaur

That ignorant men who lack the grace to ope their lips in conclave high
Should have their coffers treasure‐filled, is not the burden of our sigh;


Qehar To Ye Hai Ke Kafir Ko Milain Hoor-o-Qasoor
Aur Bechare Musalman Ko Faqat Wada-e-Hoor

But O, that this world’s best should fall to unbelievers from Your hand
While we on promises are fed of pleasures in a shadowy land!


Ab Woh Altaf Nahin, Hum Pe Anayat Nahin
Baat Ye Kya Hai Ke Pehli Si Madarat Nahin

Where are those favours which You once upon our grateful hearts didst pour ?
Why cherishest You not, O Lord, The Faithful as in days of yore?

Stanza (17)

Kyun Musalmanon Mein Hai Doulat-e-Dunya Nayaab
Teri Qudrat To Hai Woh Jis Ki Na Had Hai Na Hisab

Why from the bounties of this life The Faithful now no profit gain
Though still Almighty You remainest and limitless Your means remain?


Tu Jo Chahe To Uthe Seena-e-Sehra Se Habab
Rahroo-e-Dasht Ho Seeli Zada Mouj-e-Saraab

If You but will, fountains can flow from barren desert and parched sands,
And mirage‐bound a traveller be while walking through green forest lands:


Taan-e-Aghiyaar Hai, Ruswai Hai, Nadaari Hai,
Kya Tere Nam Pe Marne Ka Iwaz Khwari Hai?

Yet foe-men‐taunted, grace‐deprived, and poorest of the poor are we!
Is this Your recompense to those who sacrifice their lives for You?

Stanza (18)

Bani Aghyar Ki Ab Chahne Wali Dunya
Reh Gyi Apne Liye Aik Khiyali Dunya

Your  world, how eagerly, today on strangers, all its grace bestows:
For those who walk Your chosen way a world of dreams its glamour throws!


Hum To Rukhsat Huwe, Auron Ne Sanbhali Dunya
Phir Na Kehna Huwi Touheed Se Khali Dunya

So be it then, so let us pass, let other nations hold the sway—
When we are gone, reproach us not that tawhid too has passed away!


Hum Tau Jeete Hain Ke Duniya Mein Tira Naam Rahe,
Kahin Mumkin Hai Saqi Na Rahe, Jaam Rahe?

We live here only that Your Name may live here in men’s minds enshrined;
Can saki bid his last adieu and leave Love’s cup and wine behind?

Stanza (19)

Teri Mehfil Bhi Gai, Chahne Walw Bhi Gaye,
Shab Ki Aahen Bhi Gaien, Subah Ke Nale Bhi Gaye,

Your  court‐yard empties. They depart who came to worship and adore;
The midnight’s sighs, the dawn’s lament, now You wilt miss for evermore!


Dil Tujhe Debhi Gaye, Apna Sila Le Bhi Gaye,
Aa Ke Baithe Bhi Na The, Ke Nikaale Bhi Gaye.

They came, they gave their hearts to You, they had their recompense, and went.
But hardly they had seated been when from Your Presence they were sent!


Aae Ushaaq, Gaye Waada-e-Farda Lekar,
Ab Unhen Dhoond Charag-e-Rukh-e-Zeba Lekar!

They came glad lovers, begging love; with future promise turned away:
Go, shine Your Beauty’s lamp about and seek and win them if You may!

Stanza (20)

Dard-e-Laila Bhi Wohi, Qais Ka Pahlu Bhi Wohi,
Nejd Ke Dasht-o-Jabal Mein Ram-e-Aahoo Bhi Wohi,

The love of Layla burneth still, And Majnun passion’s yearning knows;
In hill and valley of the Nejd the fleet gazelle still leaping goes;


Ishq Ka Dil Bhi Wohi, Husn Ka Jaadoo Bhi Wohi,
Ummat-e-Ahmed-e-Mursil Bhi Wohi, Tu Bhi Wohi,

The soul of Love is still the same, still, Beauty’s magic charms enthral,
Your Ahmad’s feemen still abide; and You art there, the soul of all.


Phir Yeh Aazurdagi-e-Ghair-Sabab Kya Maani,
Apne Shaidaaon Pe Yeh Chashm-e-Ghazab Kya Maani?

Then Stranger! why estranged today the bond of love ‘twixt You and Yours?
Upon the Faithful, O Unkind, why frowns Your eye of wrath Divine?

Stanza (21)

Tujh Ko Chora Ke Rasool-e-Arabi (S.A.W.) Ko Chora?
Boutgari Paisha Kiya, Bout Shikani Ko Chora?

Did we forswear our faith to You? to Your Dear Prophet cease to cling?
Of idol‐breaking did we tire? or take to idol‐worshipping?


Ishq Ko, Ishq Ki Ashuftah-Sari Ko Chora?
Rasm-e-Salman (R.A.)-o-Awais-e-Qarani (R.A.) Ko Chora?

Or did we weary of Your Love, or Your Love’s rapture ever shun?
Or turned we from the path which trod Qaran’s Owais and Salman?


Aag Takbeer Ki Seenon Mein Dabi Rakhte Hain
Zindagi Misl-e-Bilal-e-Habshi (R.A.) Rakhte Hain

Your Takbeer’s unextinguished flame within our hearts we cherish yet:
Aethiop Belal’s life, the star by which our own lives’ course we set!

Stanza (22)

Ishq Ki Khair, Who Pehli Si Ada Bhi Na Sahi,
Jaada Paimaai Taslim-o-Raza Bhi Na Sahi,

But even if a change has been, and we in Love are less adept,
Or out of resignation’s path our erring wayward feet have stept;


Muztarib Dil Sifat-e-Qibla Nama Bhi Na Sahi
Aur Pabandi-e-Aaeen-e-Wafa Bhi Na Sahi

If, unlike trusted compasses, our souls respond not now to you,
And if to laws of faithfulness our roving hearts are now less true ;


Kabhi Hum Se, Kabhi Ghairon Se Shanasaai Hai
Baat Kehne Ki Nahin, Tu Bhi To Harjaai Hai

Must You too play the fickle flirt with us, with others, day by day,
We cannot help the sinful thought which shame forbids our lips to say.

Stanza (23)

Sar-e-Faran Pe Kiya Deen Ko Kamil Tu Ne
Ek Ishare Mein Hazaron Ke Liye Dil Tu Ne

Upon the peak of Mount Faran Your glorious Faith You didst perfect—
With one Divinest gesture drew a host of fervid first‐elect;


Atish Andoz Kiya Ishq Ka Hasil Tu Ne
Phoonk Di Garmi-e-Rukhsar Se Mehfil Tu Ne

Your flaming Beauty filled the world and set a myriad hearts on fire;
Then blew the quintessence of Love in Man to passion’s wild desire.


Aaj Kyun Seene Humare Sharar Abad Nahin
Hum Wohi Sokhta Saman Hain, Tuhe Yaad Nahin?

Ah, why within our deadened hearts that holy flame today leaps not?
Though still those burnt‐out victims we which once we were, have You forgot?

Stanza (24)

Wadi-e-Najd Mein Woh Shor-e-Silasil Na Raha
Qais Diwana-e-Nazara Mehmil Na Raha

Upon the dale of Nejd is stilled the clanging of the captive’s chains;
To glimpse the camel‐litter, Qais no longer with his madness strains


Hosle Woh Na Rahe, Hum Na Rahe, Dil Na Raha
Ghar Ye Ujhra Hai Ke Tu Ronaq-e-Mehfil Na Raha

The yearnings of the heart are dead, the heart itself is cold; so we;
And desolation fills our house for shines not there the Light of You.


Ae Khush Aan Roz Ke Ayi-o-Bsad Naz Ayi
Be-Hijabana Soo'ay Mehfil-e-Ma Baaz Ayi

O blessed day when You shall come, a thousand graces in Your train
When by unbashful glad feet turn towards our nesting‐place again.

Stanza (25)

Badahkash Gair Hain Gulshan Mein Lab-e-Joo Baithe
Sunte Hain Jaam Bakaf Naghma-e-Kuku Baithe

 Beside the garden fountain now, quaffing wine, strangers sit, alas!
The cuckoo’s note their ear regales and their hands hold the sparkling glass!


Door Hungama-e-Gulzar Se Yak Soo Baithe
Tere Diwane Bhi Hain Muntazir 'Hoo' Baithe

From all this garden’s riot far, Calm in a corner seated too,
Love‐longing lunatics await Your frenzy‐kindling breath of 'hu'!


Apne Parwanon Ko Phir Zauq-e-Khud Afrozi De
Barq-e-Dairina Ko Farman-e-Jigar Sozi De

The passion for the flame’s embrace—Your moths—ah, let them once more know;
And bid Your ancient lightning strike and set these ash‐cold hearts aglow!

Stanza (26)

Qoum-e-Awara Anaa Taab Hai Phir Soo'ay Hijaz
Le Ura Bulbul-e-Be Par Ko Mazak-e-Parwaz

Towards the Hijaz turn again the straying tribe their bridle‐strings!
Lo, wingless soars the nightingale aloft, upon its yearning’s wings!


Muztarib Bagh Ke Har Ghunche Mein Hai Boo'ay Niaz
Tu Zara Chair To De, Tashna-e-Mizrab Hai Saaz

The fragrance in each blossom hid within the garden palpitates,
But with Your plectrum wake its strings—The lute that livening touch awaits!


Naghme Betaab Hain Taron Se Niklne Ke Liye
Toor Muztar Hai Ussi Aag Mein Jalne Ke Liye

Yea, longs to break its prison’s bounds the string‐imprisoned melody;
And yearning Sinai waits again to burn itself to dust in You

Stanza (27)

Mushkalain Ummat-e-Marhoom Ki Asan Kar De
Moor-e-Bemaya Ko Humdosh-e-Suleman Kar De

Resolve, O Lord! the travail sore which this Your chosen people tries,
Make You the ant of little worth to Solomon’s proud stature rise!



Jins-e-Nayaab-e-Mohabbat Ko Phir Arzaan Kar De
Hind Ke Dair Nasheenon Ko Musalman Kar De

Bring You, O Lord, with our grasp that most rare love for which we pray;
To India’s temple‐squatters teach the truth of the Islamic way.


Joo'ay Khoon Mee Chakad Az Hasrat-e-Dairina-e-Maa
Mee Tapd Nala Ba Nashtar Kadah-e-Seena-e-Maa

Our hearts’ desires, long unfulfilled, unceasingly our life‐blood drain;
Our breasts, with thousand daggers pierced, still struggle with their cry of pain!

Stanza (28)

Boo-e-Gul Le Gyi Bairun-e-Chaman Raaz-e-Chaman
Kya Qayamat Hai Ke Khud Phool Hain Ghammaz-e-Chaman !

The fragrance of the rose has borne the garden’s secret far away—
How sad it is, the traitor’s role the garden’s sweetest buds should play!


Ahd-e-Gul Khatam Hua, Tut Gaya Saaz-e-Chaman,
Ur Gaye Dalion Se Zamzama Pardaaz-e-Chaman.

The bloom‐time of the rose is done; the garden‐harp now shattered lies;
And from its perch upon the twig, away each feathered songster flies—


Ek Bulbul Hai Ke Hai Mahw-e-Tarannum Ab Tak,
Us Ke Seene Mein Hai Naghmon Ka Talatam Ab Tak.

But yet there uncompanioned sits A lonely bulbul, all day long;
Its throat a‐throb with music still and pouring out its heart in song.

Stanza (29)

Qumrian Shaakh-e-Sanober Se Gurezaan Bhi Huin,
Pattian Phool Ki Jhar Jhar Ke Pareshan Bhi Huin;

The darkening cypress sways no more; from shadowy nests its doves have fled;
The withered blossoms droop and die, and all around their petals shed;


Who Purani Ravishen Bagh Ki Weeran Bhi Huin,
Daalian Parahan-e-Barg Se Uriaan Bhi Huin.

Those memoried, old garden walks of all their former pride lie shorn,
Despoiled of raiment green, each branch in nakedness now stands forlorn;


Qaid-e-Mausim Se Tabiat Rahi Aazad Uski,
Kaash Gulshan Mein Samjhta Koi Faryaad Uski.

Unmoved by passing seasons’ change, the songster sits and sings alone:
Would there were in this garden some could feel the burden of its moan!

Stanza (30)

Lutf Merne Main Hai Baqi, Na Maza Jeene Mein
Kuch Maza Hai To Yehi Khoon-e-Jigar Peene Mein

This life no more its joy retains, nor even death can bring relief;
‘Tis sweet to sit alone and sigh and eat a sad heart out in grief.


Kitne Betaab Hain Jouhar Mere Aaeene Mein
Kis Qadar Jalwe Tarapte Hain Mere Seene Mein

Out from the mirror of my soul ‘ what gems of thought now strive to shine;
What visions splendid, dreams sublime,


Iss Gulistan Mein Magar Dekhne Wale Hi Nahin
Dagh Jo Seene Mein Rakhte Hun, Woh Lale Hi Nahin

Arise within this breast of mine! but in this garden lives not one to see and hear, to feel and know:
No tulip with its streak of pain, to sense my heart‐blood’s smarting flow.

Stanza (31)

Chaak Iss Bulbul-e-Tanha Ki Nawa Se Dil Hon
Jaagne Wale Issi Bang-e-Dara Se Dil Hon

May this sad bulbuls lonely song to grief each listening soul awake;
The clangour of these rousing bells make drowsy hearts their sleep forsake!


Yani Phir Zinda Naye Ehd-e-Wafa Se Dil Hon
Phir Issi Bada-e-Deerina Ke Pyaase Dil Hon

Let Faithful hearts re‐plight their troth, and forge afresh their bond Divine;
Let in the long‐parched heart of each the old thirst wake for sweet old wine!


Ajami Khum Hai To Kya, Mai To Hijazi Hai Meri
Naghma Hindi Hai To Kya, Lai To Hijazi Hai Meri

The blood of sweet Arabian vine O’erflows this wine‐jar Ajamy,
Although the singer sings in Ind, ff Hijaz is his melody.


Shikva in Hindi

क्यूँ ज़याँ-कार बनूँ सूद-फ़रामोश रहूँ
फ़िक्र-ए-फ़र्दा न करूँ महव-ए-ग़म-ए-दोश रहूँ
नाले बुलबुल के सुनूँ और हमा-तन गोश रहूँ
हम-नवा मैं भी कोई गुल हूँ कि ख़ामोश रहूँ
जुरअत-आमोज़ मिरी ताब-ए-सुख़न है मुझ को
शिकवा अल्लाह से ख़ाकम-ब-दहन है मुझ को
है बजा शेवा-ए-तस्लीम में मशहूर हैं हम
क़िस्सा-ए-दर्द सुनाते हैं कि मजबूर हैं हम
साज़ ख़ामोश हैं फ़रियाद से मामूर हैं हम
नाला आता है अगर लब पे तो माज़ूर हैं हम
ऐ ख़ुदा शिकवा-ए-अर्बाब-ए-वफ़ा भी सुन ले
ख़ूगर-ए-हम्द से थोड़ा सा गिला भी सुन ले
थी तो मौजूद अज़ल से ही तिरी ज़ात-ए-क़दीम
फूल था ज़ेब-ए-चमन पर न परेशाँ थी शमीम
शर्त इंसाफ़ है ऐ साहिब-ए-अल्ताफ़-ए-अमीम
बू-ए-गुल फैलती किस तरह जो होती न नसीम
हम को जमईयत-ए-ख़ातिर ये परेशानी थी
वर्ना उम्मत तिरे महबूब की दीवानी थी
हम से पहले था अजब तेरे जहाँ का मंज़र
कहीं मस्जूद थे पत्थर कहीं माबूद शजर
ख़ूगर-ए-पैकर-ए-महसूस थी इंसाँ की नज़र
मानता फिर कोई अन-देखे ख़ुदा को क्यूँकर
तुझ को मालूम है लेता था कोई नाम तिरा
क़ुव्वत-ए-बाज़ू-ए-मुस्लिम ने किया काम तिरा
बस रहे थे यहीं सल्जूक़ भी तूरानी भी
अहल-ए-चीं चीन में ईरान में सासानी भी
इसी मामूरे में आबाद थे यूनानी भी
इसी दुनिया में यहूदी भी थे नसरानी भी
पर तिरे नाम पे तलवार उठाई किस ने
बात जो बिगड़ी हुई थी वो बनाई किस ने
थे हमीं एक तिरे मारका-आराओं में
ख़ुश्कियों में कभी लड़ते कभी दरियाओं में
दीं अज़ानें कभी यूरोप के कलीसाओं में
कभी अफ़्रीक़ा के तपते हुए सहराओं में
शान आँखों में न जचती थी जहाँ-दारों की
कलमा पढ़ते थे हमीं छाँव में तलवारों की
हम जो जीते थे तो जंगों की मुसीबत के लिए
और मरते थे तिरे नाम की अज़्मत के लिए
थी न कुछ तेग़ज़नी अपनी हुकूमत के लिए
सर-ब-कफ़ फिरते थे क्या दहर में दौलत के लिए
क़ौम अपनी जो ज़र-ओ-माल-ए-जहाँ पर मरती
बुत-फ़रोशीं के एवज़ बुत-शिकनी क्यूँ करती
टल न सकते थे अगर जंग में अड़ जाते थे
पाँव शेरों के भी मैदाँ से उखड़ जाते थे
तुझ से सरकश हुआ कोई तो बिगड़ जाते थे
तेग़ क्या चीज़ है हम तोप से लड़ जाते थे
नक़्श-ए-तौहीद का हर दिल पे बिठाया हम ने
ज़ेर-ए-ख़ंजर भी ये पैग़ाम सुनाया हम ने
तू ही कह दे कि उखाड़ा दर-ए-ख़ैबर किस ने
शहर क़ैसर का जो था उस को किया सर किस ने
तोड़े मख़्लूक़ ख़ुदावंदों के पैकर किस ने
काट कर रख दिए कुफ़्फ़ार के लश्कर किस ने
किस ने ठंडा किया आतिश-कदा-ए-ईराँ को
किस ने फिर ज़िंदा किया तज़्किरा-ए-यज़्दाँ को
कौन सी क़ौम फ़क़त तेरी तलबगार हुई
और तेरे लिए ज़हमत-कश-ए-पैकार हुई
किस की शमशीर जहाँगीर जहाँ-दार हुई
किस की तकबीर से दुनिया तिरी बेदार हुई
किस की हैबत से सनम सहमे हुए रहते थे
मुँह के बल गिर के हू-अल्लाहू-अहद कहते थे
आ गया ऐन लड़ाई में अगर वक़्त-ए-नमाज़
क़िबला-रू हो के ज़मीं-बोस हुई क़ौम-ए-हिजाज़
एक ही सफ़ में खड़े हो गए महमूद ओ अयाज़
न कोई बंदा रहा और न कोई बंदा-नवाज़
बंदा ओ साहब ओ मोहताज ओ ग़नी एक हुए
तेरी सरकार में पहुँचे तो सभी एक हुए
महफ़िल-ए-कौन-ओ-मकाँ में सहर ओ शाम फिरे
मय-ए-तौहीद को ले कर सिफ़त-ए-जाम फिरे
कोह में दश्त में ले कर तिरा पैग़ाम फिरे
और मालूम है तुझ को कभी नाकाम फिरे
दश्त तो दश्त हैं दरिया भी न छोड़े हम ने
बहर-ए-ज़ुल्मात में दौड़ा दिए घोड़े हम ने
सफ़्हा-ए-दहर से बातिल को मिटाया हम ने
नौ-ए-इंसाँ को ग़ुलामी से छुड़ाया हम ने
तेरे काबे को जबीनों से बसाया हम ने
तेरे क़ुरआन को सीनों से लगाया हम ने
फिर भी हम से ये गिला है कि वफ़ादार नहीं
हम वफ़ादार नहीं तू भी तो दिलदार नहीं
उम्मतें और भी हैं उन में गुनहगार भी हैं
इज्ज़ वाले भी हैं मस्त-ए-मय-ए-पिंदार भी हैं
उन में काहिल भी हैं ग़ाफ़िल भी हैं हुश्यार भी हैं
सैकड़ों हैं कि तिरे नाम से बे-ज़ार भी हैं
रहमतें हैं तिरी अग़्यार के काशानों पर
बर्क़ गिरती है तो बेचारे मुसलामानों पर
बुत सनम-ख़ानों में कहते हैं मुसलमान गए
है ख़ुशी उन को कि काबे के निगहबान गए
मंज़िल-ए-दहर से ऊँटों के हुदी-ख़्वान गए
अपनी बग़लों में दबाए हुए क़ुरआन गए
ख़ंदा-ज़न कुफ़्र है एहसास तुझे है कि नहीं
अपनी तौहीद का कुछ पास तुझे है कि नहीं
ये शिकायत नहीं हैं उन के ख़ज़ाने मामूर
नहीं महफ़िल में जिन्हें बात भी करने का शुऊर
क़हर तो ये है कि काफ़िर को मिलें हूर ओ क़ुसूर
और बेचारे मुसलमाँ को फ़क़त वादा-ए-हूर
अब वो अल्ताफ़ नहीं हम पे इनायात नहीं
बात ये क्या है कि पहली सी मुदारात नहीं
क्यूँ मुसलामानों में है दौलत-ए-दुनिया नायाब
तेरी क़ुदरत तो है वो जिस की न हद है न हिसाब
तू जो चाहे तो उठे सीना-ए-सहरा से हबाब
रह-रव-ए-दश्त हो सैली-ज़दा-ए-मौज-ए-सराब
तान-ए-अग़्यार है रुस्वाई है नादारी है
क्या तिरे नाम पे मरने का एवज़ ख़्वारी है
बनी अग़्यार की अब चाहने वाली दुनिया
रह गई अपने लिए एक ख़याली दुनिया
हम तो रुख़्सत हुए औरों ने सँभाली दुनिया
फिर न कहना हुई तौहीद से ख़ाली दुनिया
हम तो जीते हैं कि दुनिया में तिरा नाम रहे
कहीं मुमकिन है कि साक़ी न रहे जाम रहे
तेरी महफ़िल भी गई चाहने वाले भी गए
शब की आहें भी गईं सुब्ह के नाले भी गए
दिल तुझे दे भी गए अपना सिला ले भी गए
आ के बैठे भी न थे और निकाले भी गए
आए उश्शाक़ गए वादा-ए-फ़र्दा ले कर
अब उन्हें ढूँड चराग़-ए-रुख़-ए-ज़ेबा ले कर
दर्द-ए-लैला भी वही क़ैस का पहलू भी वही
नज्द के दश्त ओ जबल में रम-ए-आहू भी वही
इश्क़ का दिल भी वही हुस्न का जादू भी वही
उम्मत-ए-अहमद-ए-मुर्सिल भी वही तू भी वही
फिर ये आज़ुर्दगी-ए-ग़ैर सबब क्या मअ'नी
अपने शैदाओं पे ये चश्म-ए-ग़ज़ब क्या मअ'नी
तुझ को छोड़ा कि रसूल-ए-अरबी को छोड़ा
बुत-गरी पेशा किया बुत-शिकनी को छोड़ा
इश्क़ को इश्क़ की आशुफ़्ता-सरी को छोड़ा
रस्म-ए-सलमान ओ उवैस-ए-क़रनी को छोड़ा
आग तकबीर की सीनों में दबी रखते हैं
ज़िंदगी मिस्ल-ए-बिलाल-ए-हबशी रखते हैं
इश्क़ की ख़ैर वो पहली सी अदा भी न सही
जादा-पैमाई-ए-तस्लीम-ओ-रज़ा भी न सही
मुज़्तरिब दिल सिफ़त-ए-क़िबला-नुमा भी न सही
और पाबंदी-ए-आईन-ए-वफ़ा भी न सही
कभी हम से कभी ग़ैरों से शनासाई है
बात कहने की नहीं तू भी तो हरजाई है
सर-ए-फ़ाराँ पे किया दीन को कामिल तू ने
इक इशारे में हज़ारों के लिए दिल तू ने
आतिश-अंदोज़ किया इश्क़ का हासिल तू ने
फूँक दी गर्मी-ए-रुख़्सार से महफ़िल तू ने
आज क्यूँ सीने हमारे शरर-आबाद नहीं
हम वही सोख़्ता-सामाँ हैं तुझे याद नहीं
वादी-ए-नज्द में वो शोर-ए-सलासिल न रहा
क़ैस दीवाना-ए-नज़्ज़ारा-ए-महमिल न रहा
हौसले वो न रहे हम न रहे दिल न रहा
घर ये उजड़ा है कि तू रौनक़-ए-महफ़िल न रहा
ऐ ख़ुशा आँ रोज़ कि आई ओ ब-सद नाज़ आई
बे-हिजाबाना सू-ए-महफ़िल-ए-मा बाज़ आई
बादा-कश ग़ैर हैं गुलशन में लब-ए-जू बैठे
सुनते हैं जाम-ब-कफ़ नग़्मा-ए-कू-कू बैठे
दौर हंगामा-ए-गुलज़ार से यकसू बैठे
तेरे दीवाने भी हैं मुंतज़िर-ए-हू बैठे
अपने परवानों को फिर ज़ौक़-ए-ख़ुद-अफ़रोज़ी दे
बर्क़-ए-देरीना को फ़रमान-ए-जिगर-सोज़ी दे
क़ौम-ए-आवारा इनाँ-ताब है फिर सू-ए-हिजाज़
ले उड़ा बुलबुल-ए-बे-पर को मज़ाक़-ए-परवाज़
मुज़्तरिब-बाग़ के हर ग़ुंचे में है बू-ए-नियाज़
तू ज़रा छेड़ तो दे तिश्ना-ए-मिज़राब है साज़
नग़्मे बेताब हैं तारों से निकलने के लिए
तूर मुज़्तर है उसी आग में जलने के लिए
मुश्किलें उम्मत-ए-मरहूम की आसाँ कर दे
मोर-ए-बे-माया को हम-दोश-ए-सुलेमाँ कर दे
जींस-ए-ना-याब-ए-मोहब्बत को फिर अर्ज़ां कर दे
हिन्द के दैर-नशीनों को मुसलमाँ कर दे
जू-ए-ख़ूँ मी चकद अज़ हसरत-ए-दैरीना-ए-मा
मी तपद नाला ब-निश्तर कद-ए-सीना-ए-मा
बू-ए-गुल ले गई बैरून-ए-चमन राज़-ए-चमन
क्या क़यामत है कि ख़ुद फूल हैं ग़म्माज़-ए-चमन
अहद-ए-गुल ख़त्म हुआ टूट गया साज़-ए-चमन
उड़ गए डालियों से ज़मज़मा-पर्दाज़-ए-चमन
एक बुलबुल है कि महव-ए-तरन्नुम अब तक
उस के सीने में है नग़्मों का तलातुम अब तक
क़ुमरियाँ शाख़-ए-सनोबर से गुरेज़ाँ भी हुईं
पत्तियाँ फूल की झड़ झड़ के परेशाँ भी हुईं
वो पुरानी रविशें बाग़ की वीराँ भी हुईं
डालियाँ पैरहन-ए-बर्ग से उर्यां भी हुईं
क़ैद-ए-मौसम से तबीअत रही आज़ाद उस की
काश गुलशन में समझता कोई फ़रियाद उस की
लुत्फ़ मरने में है बाक़ी न मज़ा जीने में
कुछ मज़ा है तो यही ख़ून-ए-जिगर पीने में
कितने बेताब हैं जौहर मिरे आईने में
किस क़दर जल्वे तड़पते हैं मिरे सीने में
इस गुलिस्ताँ में मगर देखने वाले ही नहीं
दाग़ जो सीने में रखते हों वो लाले ही नहीं
चाक इस बुलबुल-ए-तन्हा की नवा से दिल हों
जागने वाले इसी बाँग-ए-दिरा से दिल हों
यानी फिर ज़िंदा नए अहद-ए-वफ़ा से दिल हों
फिर इसी बादा-ए-दैरीना के प्यासे दिल हों
अजमी ख़ुम है तो क्या मय तो हिजाज़ी है मिरी
नग़्मा हिन्दी है तो क्या लय तो हिजाज़ी है मिरी





In a world obsessed with asking—asking for more time, for money, for blessings, for escape—we might pause to ask a deeper question: What should we ask of God?

Guru Arjan, in his radiant Shabad Jo Māṅgai Ṭhākur Apne Te, offers a startling invitation:

ਜੋ ਮਾਗੈ ਠਾਕੁਰ ਆਪਣੇ ਤੇ ਸੋਈ ਸੋਈ ਦੇਵੈ ॥
Jo māṅgai ṯẖākur āpṇe ṯe soī soī ḏevai.
Whatever one asks of the Lord, the Lord gives.

This line could easily be mistaken for a divine vending machine theology: just ask and receive. But Guru Arjan does not end there. He continues:

ਨਾਨਕ ਦਾਸੁ ਮੁਖ ਤੇ ਜੋ ਬੋਲੈ ਈਹਾ ਊਹਾ ਸਚੁ ਹੋਵੈ ॥
Nanak dās mukẖ ṯe jo bolai īhā ūhā sacẖ hovai.
Whatever the servant Nanak utters with his mouth becomes true in this world and the next.

Here, asking is not transactional—it is relational. The one who asks is a dās, a servant. A surrendered soul. The gift, then, is not merely in the asking, but in the transformation of the asker.


The Art of Asking: Simplicity Over Sophistication

Guru Nanak simplifies the act of asking even further. In the Prabhaati Shabad beginning with “Gur parsādi vidiaa veechaarai,” he describes the ideal request as something profoundly humble:

ਇਕ ਦਖਿਣਾ ਹਉ ਤੈ ਪਹਿ ਮਾਗਉ ਦੇਹਿ ਆਪਣਾ ਨਾਮੁ ॥
Ik dakhiṇā ha-o ṯai pėh māga-o ḏėh āpṇā nām.
I ask for one offering alone: give me Your Name.

There is no grand petition here for kingdoms, wealth, or miracles. Just Naam—the Divine Name, the intimate remembrance of the Beloved.

This really is a core Gurbani principle.  This idea is echoed in so many shabads. Here is one line from a Shabad by Guru Arjan:

ਜਿ ਵਸਤੁ ਮੰਗੀਐ ਸਾਈ ਪਾਈਐ ਜੇ ਨਾਮਿ ਚਿਤੁ ਲਾਈਐ ॥
Ji vasat mangīai sāī pāīai je nām chit lāīai.
One receives the thing one truly desires—if the mind is focused on the Naam.

The secret lies not in how much we ask, but how we ask. If the desire is rooted in remembrance, in humility, in surrender, then even the act of asking becomes worship.

Beyond Commodities: Asking for Qualities

Guru Nanak reframes prayer entirely by asking not for things, but for virtues, for inner wealth:

ਜਤੁ ਸਤੁ ਚਾਵਲ ਦਇਆ ਕਣਕ ਕਰਿ ਪ੍ਰਾਪਤਿ ਪਾਤੀ ਧਾਨੁ ॥
Make self-discipline and truth the rice; compassion the wheat on the leaf-plate of meditation.

ਦੂਧੁ ਕਰਮੁ ਸੰਤੋਖੁ ਘੀਉ ਕਰਿ ਐਸਾ ਮਾਂਗਉ ਦਾਨੁ ॥
Let milk be good deeds, and ghee be contentment—these are the gifts I beg of You.

ਖਿਮਾ ਧੀਰਜੁ ਕਰਿ ਗਊ ਲਵੇਰੀ ਸਹਜੇ ਬਛਰਾ ਖੀਰੁ ਪੀਐ ॥
Let forgiveness and patience be my milk-cows, from which the calf of the mind gently drinks.

This is a beautiful economy of divine asking: not for what the world values, but for what makes the world meaningful. The entire Shabad turns the daily act of eating into a metaphor for the nourishment of the soul, begging God not for outcomes but for orientation. It does sound like we are in South India with the meals on leaves and the serving of rice. 

A Hidden Conversation with the Guru

But make sure you have a conversation with God. 

ਗੁਹਜ ਗਲ ਜੀਅ ਕੀ ਕੀਚੈ ਸਤਿਗੁਰੂ ਪਾਸਿ
Tell the secrets of your soul to the True Guru.

What we often ask for aloud—success, health, comfort—is rarely the real longing of the soul. The soul’s cry is quieter, more hidden. Guru Arjan encourages us to entrust that deepest yearning to the Satguru, not just as a listener, but as a physician of the spirit. The result?

ਤਾ ਸਰਬ ਸੁਖੁ ਪਾਈਐ ॥
Then, true peace is found.

When we dare to articulate our hidden hunger to the One who knows us better than we know ourselves, the need to ask vanishes. Hunger dissolves into satisfaction. Asking becomes union.

Conclusion: To Ask is to Align

In these Shabads, Guru Nanak and Guru Arjan do not reject asking; they sanctify it. They reorient it. Asking is not a failure of surrender—it is a doorway into it. But the object of asking is not to gain what the ego desires; it is to uncover what the soul already knows it needs.

So what should we ask of God?

We should ask for Naam.

We should ask to lose our inner thieves—lust, anger, greed, attachment, and ego.

We should ask for rice made of self-restraint, wheat made of kindness, and milk made of good actions.

We should ask for the courage to ask less for ourselves and more for the self to be quiet enough to listen.

Because, in the end, the true gift is not what is given.

It is who we become by asking.


The One Who Listens

Most days,
I keep things where no one can find them—
under the socks I never wear,
inside the teapot shaped like a duck,
in the second draft of a breakup poem
that never quite broke anything.

You wouldn’t know
that I worry about disappearing
the way soap does
in the last week of August.

Or that I once lied
to a dying plant,
whispering, you’ll be fine,
as I walked past with a glass of water
meant for myself.

But sometimes,
I sit down with the Shabad
like it’s the old friend
who never asks for small talk.

And I say it—
the thing even I didn’t know
was rattling in the drawer
marked unspoken.

The Shabad doesn’t flinch.
It has never judged. 
It doesn’t correct my grammar
or ask if I’ve tried journaling.

It just listens—
like the inside of a mountain
so still
that when I stop speaking,
I can finally hear
where the wind goes next.


Reference Shabads


Jo Mange - Guru Arjan
Mangna Maangan Neeka
Je Vasst Mangiyeh Sayi 

Je Vasst Mangiyeh

ਪਉੜੀ ॥
पउड़ी ॥
Pa▫oṛī.
Pauree:

ਸਭ ਵਡਿਆਈਆ ਹਰਿ ਨਾਮ ਵਿਚਿ ਹਰਿ ਗੁਰਮੁਖਿ ਧਿਆਈਐ ॥
सभ वडिआईआ हरि नाम विचि हरि गुरमुखि धिआईऐ ॥
Sabẖ vaḏi▫ā▫ī▫ā har nām vicẖ har gurmukẖ ḏẖi▫ā▫ī▫ai.
All glorious greatness is in the Name of the Lord; as Gurmukh, meditate on the Lord.

ਜਿ ਵਸਤੁ ਮੰਗੀਐ ਸਾਈ ਪਾਈਐ ਜੇ ਨਾਮਿ ਚਿਤੁ ਲਾਈਐ ॥
जि वसतु मंगीऐ साई पाईऐ जे नामि चितु लाईऐ ॥
Jė vasaṯ mangī▫ai sā▫ī pā▫ī▫ai je nām cẖiṯ lā▫ī▫ai.
One obtains all that he asks for, if he keeps his consciousness focused on the Lord.

ਗੁਹਜ ਗਲ ਜੀਅ ਕੀ ਕੀਚੈ ਸਤਿਗੁਰੂ ਪਾਸਿ ਤਾ ਸਰਬ ਸੁਖੁ ਪਾਈਐ ॥
गुहज गल जीअ की कीचै सतिगुरू पासि ता सरब सुखु पाईऐ ॥
Guhaj gal jī▫a kī kīcẖai saṯgurū pās ṯā sarab sukẖ pā▫ī▫ai.
If he tells the secrets of his soul to the True Guru, then he finds absolute peace.

ਗੁਰੁ ਪੂਰਾ ਹਰਿ ਉਪਦੇਸੁ ਦੇਇ ਸਭ ਭੁਖ ਲਹਿ ਜਾਈਐ ॥
गुरु पूरा हरि उपदेसु देइ सभ भुख लहि जाईऐ ॥
Gur pūrā har upḏes ḏe▫e sabẖ bẖukẖ lėh jā▫ī▫ai.
When the Perfect Guru bestows the Lord's Teachings, then all hunger departs.

ਜਿਸੁ ਪੂਰਬਿ ਹੋਵੈ ਲਿਖਿਆ ਸੋ ਹਰਿ ਗੁਣ ਗਾਈਐ ॥੩॥
जिसु पूरबि होवै लिखिआ सो हरि गुण गाईऐ ॥३॥
Jis pūrab hovai likẖi▫ā so har guṇ gā▫ī▫ai. ||3||
One who is blessed with such pre-ordained destiny, sings the Glorious Praises of the Lord. ||3||


Guru Nanak -

ਪ੍ਰਭਾਤੀ ਮਹਲਾ ੧ ॥
प्रभाती महला १ ॥
Parbẖāṯī mėhlā 1.
Prabhaatee, First Mehl:

ਗੁਰ ਪਰਸਾਦੀ ਵਿਦਿਆ ਵੀਚਾਰੈ ਪੜਿ ਪੜਿ ਪਾਵੈ ਮਾਨੁ ॥
गुर परसादी विदिआ वीचारै पड़ि पड़ि पावै मानु ॥
Gur parsādī viḏi▫ā vīcẖārai paṛ paṛ pāvai mān.
By Guru's Grace, contemplate spiritual knowledge; read it and study it, and you shall be honored.
ਆਪਾ ਮਧੇ ਆਪੁ ਪਰਗਾਸਿਆ ਪਾਇਆ ਅੰਮ੍ਰਿਤੁ ਨਾਮੁ ॥੧॥
आपा मधे आपु परगासिआ पाइआ अम्रितु नामु ॥१॥
Āpā maḏẖe āp pargāsi▫ā pā▫i▫ā amriṯ nām. ||1||
Within the self, the self is revealed, when one is blessed with the Ambrosial Naam, the Name of the Lord. ||1||

ਕਰਤਾ ਤੂ ਮੇਰਾ ਜਜਮਾਨੁ ॥
करता तू मेरा जजमानु ॥
Karṯā ṯū merā jajmān.
O Creator Lord, You alone are my Benefactor.
ਇਕ ਦਖਿਣਾ ਹਉ ਤੈ ਪਹਿ ਮਾਗਉ ਦੇਹਿ ਆਪਣਾ ਨਾਮੁ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
इक दखिणा हउ तै पहि मागउ देहि आपणा नामु ॥१॥ रहाउ ॥
Ik ḏakẖiṇā ha▫o ṯai pėh māga▫o ḏėh āpṇā nām. ||1|| rahā▫o.
I beg for only one blessing from You: please bless me with Your Name. ||1||Pause||

ਪੰਚ ਤਸਕਰ ਧਾਵਤ ਰਾਖੇ ਚੂਕਾ ਮਨਿ ਅਭਿਮਾਨੁ ॥
पंच तसकर धावत राखे चूका मनि अभिमानु ॥
Pancẖ ṯaskar ḏẖāvaṯ rākẖe cẖūkā man abẖimān.
The five wandering thieves are captured and held, and the egotistical pride of the mind is subdued.
ਦਿਸਟਿ ਬਿਕਾਰੀ ਦੁਰਮਤਿ ਭਾਗੀ ਐਸਾ ਬ੍ਰਹਮ ਗਿਆਨੁ ॥੨॥
दिसटि बिकारी दुरमति भागी ऐसा ब्रहम गिआनु ॥२॥
Ḏisat bikārī ḏurmaṯ bẖāgī aisā barahm gi▫ān. ||2||
Visions of corruption, vice and evil-mindedness run away. Such is the spiritual wisdom of God. ||2||

ਜਤੁ ਸਤੁ ਚਾਵਲ ਦਇਆ ਕਣਕ ਕਰਿ ਪ੍ਰਾਪਤਿ ਪਾਤੀ ਧਾਨੁ ॥
जतु सतु चावल दइआ कणक करि प्रापति पाती धानु ॥
Jaṯ saṯ cẖāval ḏa▫i▫ā kaṇak kar parāpaṯ pāṯī ḏẖān.
Please bless me with the rice of truth and self-restraint, the wheat of compassion, and the leaf-plate of meditation.
ਦੂਧੁ ਕਰਮੁ ਸੰਤੋਖੁ ਘੀਉ ਕਰਿ ਐਸਾ ਮਾਂਗਉ ਦਾਨੁ ॥੩॥
दूधु करमु संतोखु घीउ करि ऐसा मांगउ दानु ॥३॥
Ḏūḏẖ karam sanṯokẖ gẖī▫o kar aisā māʼnga▫o ḏān. ||3||
Bless me with the milk of good karma, and the clarified butter, the ghee, of compassion. Such are the gifts I beg of You, Lord. ||3||

ਖਿਮਾ ਧੀਰਜੁ ਕਰਿ ਗਊ ਲਵੇਰੀ ਸਹਜੇ ਬਛਰਾ ਖੀਰੁ ਪੀਐ ॥
खिमा धीरजु करि गऊ लवेरी सहजे बछरा खीरु पीऐ ॥
Kẖimā ḏẖīraj kar ga▫ū laverī sėhje bacẖẖrā kẖīr pī▫ai.
Let forgiveness and patience be my milk-cows, and let the calf of my mind intuitively drink in this milk.
ਸਿਫਤਿ ਸਰਮ ਕਾ ਕਪੜਾ ਮਾਂਗਉ ਹਰਿ ਗੁਣ ਨਾਨਕ ਰਵਤੁ ਰਹੈ ॥੪॥੭॥
सिफति सरम का कपड़ा मांगउ हरि गुण नानक रवतु रहै ॥४॥७॥
Sifaṯ saram kā kapṛā māʼnga▫o har guṇ Nānak ravaṯ rahai. ||4||7||
I beg for the clothes of modesty and the Lord's Praise; Nanak chants the Glorious Praises of the Lord. ||4||7||
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SHIVPREET SINGH

Singing oneness!
- Shivpreet Singh

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