On the eve of Guru Nanak's 552nd birthday, I have been listening to his mantra. If you ask Bhai Gurdas what his mantra is, he would say Satnam. He begins the story of Guru Nanak with Satnam as the mantra, and concludes the story with Satnam Waheguru.
I am also viewing this art about a beautiful frozen moment in time: the guru coming out as an enlightened luminary. Encircling his serene countenance are two halos, one that is white, the other of radiant yellow, each an embodiment of his divine wisdom and boundless compassion.
And this light is affecting everything. Isn't it wonderful that the kali bein, the dark rivulet has turned sky blue, I imagine that the light from Nanak is impacting everything around him. And everything around him is enveloping him fluidly. Very aptly he wears a cloak of the river's own making. Satnam has even also made his beard white at the age of 30.
We can imagine him walking out of the river after an absence of 3 days. Equally perplexed by the miracle of his disappearance, then appearance, but most of all by his new countenance: thoroughly drenched in the truest of all true names, satnaam: ekonkar.
John Keats, in his 'Ode on a Grecian Urn,' writes, "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter." This line resonates deeply as I gaze upon this piece of art. The unheard melodies here are the silent revelations of Guru Nanak, the subtle ripples of enlightenment coursing through his being, the quiet hum of the universe whispering the mantra of "Ek Onkaar" - "All is One," into his awakened soul.
The stillness of the painting, much like the frozen scenes on Keats' Grecian Urn, holds a dynamic truth. Keats muses, "What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? What pipes and timbrels?" He is drawn into the stories etched onto the urn, the characters frozen in their pursuits. Similarly, the painting invites us to partake in Guru Nanak's spiritual journey, a journey that begins in the depths of the river and ascends towards the realm of oneness.
This piece of art, like the ancient Grecian urn, is a silent form that teems with eloquent tales. The unfinished melody of Guru Nanak's enlightenment is a composition that inspires me to create music. The final notes might be unheard, but they echo within the chambers of the heart.
The beauty of Guru Nanak's enlightenment and Keats' Grecian urn lies not in their physicality but in their profound ability to inspire, to incite a quest for knowledge, and to draw out the unheard melodies from the silence. They both unravel the mystery of beauty in their own unique ways – one through the spiritual enlightenment that acknowledges the oneness of existence and the other through art that captures the frozen moments of life.
Just as Guru Nanak emerged from the river, enlightened and ready to disseminate the ambrosial nectar of wisdom that he had discovered, so too does the music I intend to create. It will emerge, inspired by the Guru's grace, to sing of the oneness that he so profoundly perceived, becoming another way to see, feel, and appreciate the beauty inherent in the truth of oneness.
Thus, frozen pieces of art, like the painting of Guru Nanak, and finished compositions of music, inspired by his divine grace, become bridges that connect us to the beauty that the Guru beheld in oneness. They serve as profound reminders of the eternal truth of 'Ek Onkaar', encapsulating the essence of life and existence in their silent eloquence.
As this contemplative journey draws to a close, I am struck by a profound realization: a recording of a shabad, a holy hymn, is much like a painting. It is static, unchanging, frozen in time. Yet it is not the recording that embodies the Guru, nor does the painting embody the beauty. The beauty, the true essence, is awakened in the act of sensory perception.
The painting of Guru Nanak remains motionless, yet it stirs upon our gaze. It is not the canvas that moves, but our hearts and minds. The visual engagement awakens the Guru within us, the dormant wisdom, the latent understanding of the divine. It is the perception, the interaction, that breathes life into the static image, transforming it into a dynamic spiritual experience.
Much in the same vein, the recording of a shabad is not the Guru itself. It is but an echo of divine wisdom, a reverberation of spiritual enlightenment. Yet, when we listen to it with emotion, with an openness of heart and mind, it stirs something within us. It awakens the Guru within, the spiritual guide that leads us towards the path of enlightenment. It is this act of listening, this deep engagement with the hymn, that uncovers its true beauty.
And then, in that fleeting moment, we feel a glimpse of the oneness that the Guru experiences. The boundaries of self and the universe blur, and we feel interconnected with all that is around us. The Guru's wisdom, echoed in the shabad, resonates within us, connecting us to the divine oneness.
There is nothing truer than what we feel. Our emotions, our experiences, are the most honest reflections of our inner selves. And in this transcendental experience of perceiving the Guru's wisdom, of feeling the oneness, there is nothing more beautiful. The beauty is not in the painting or the recording, but in our interaction with them, in the emotions they stir, and in the spiritual enlightenment they invoke.
Thus, we find that the beauty of Guru Nanak's enlightenment, the essence of the oneness he perceived, is not confined to static forms of art or recorded hymns. It lives within us, waiting to be awakened by our sensory engagement, by listening to a shabad or gazing upon a painting. It is this awakening, this realization of oneness, that is the true beauty of enlightenment.
Singing oneness!
