The Strummer
On the way back, while the sky moved away from the sun and reached out to the stars, I felt like a guitar string being strummed between what I needed and what I deserved, leaving behind a trail of thoughts and silence, and no footmarks for there is no snow, I walked as I talked, scared of being followed, still afriad of expressing the joy of a moment not yet there, clinging to an explanation where none is sought, like a no status update since long on your FB while your life is lost in the sinusoidal frenzy of rhetorical revelations, I see it all and believe, yes this is indeed better than verbal diarrhea!
Chardi Kala
In all of these cases, I am sharing my story, whether through a melody, in a classroom, or on a blog. And as I share my post-9/11/01 story here in 2011 with these words, I feel a profound sense of hope that may not be rooted in a logical, physical reality, but perhaps in a deeper reality that connects us all and is a foundation for our belief in liberation and justice. Even in the worst of circumstances, remaining hopeful is a necessity to our survival as people traumatized by oppression. We Sikhs call this chardi kala—a spirit of revolutionary eternal optimism. Our collective struggles for dignity and social justice are not only necessary to tear down systemic inequalities, but also to heal our own personal wounds as oppressed people, always remaining in the chardi kala spirit.
Source - http://www.leftturn.org/Sonny-Sept11-testimony
Sunn Sunn Naam Tumhara Preetam
ਨਉ ਨਿਧਿ ਅੰਮ੍ਰਿਤੁ ਪ੍ਰਭ ਕਾ ਨਾਮੁ ॥
ਦੇਹੀ ਮਹਿ ਇਸ ਕਾ ਬਿਸ੍ਰਾਮੁ ॥
ਮੇਰੇ ਮਨ ਹਰਿ ਕਾ ਨਾਮੁ ਧਿਆਇ ॥ ਸਾਚੀ ਭਗਤਿ ਤਾ ਥੀਐ ਜਾ ਹਰਿ ਵਸੈ ਮਨਿ ਆਇ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
ਹਰਿ ਹਰਿ ਮੁਖ ਤੇ ਬੋਲਨਾ ਮਨਿ ਵੂਠੈ ਸੁਖੁ ਹੋਇ ॥
ਮਨ ਮਹਿ ਰਾਮ ਨਾਮਾ ਜਾਪਿ ॥ ਕਰਿ ਕਿਰਪਾ ਵਸਹੁ ਮੇਰੈ ਹਿਰਦੈ ਹੋਇ ਸਹਾਈ ਆਪਿ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
ਨਾਮੁ ਅਮੋਲਕੁ ਰਤਨੁ ਹੈ ਪੂਰੇ ਸਤਿਗੁਰ ਪਾਸਿ ॥ ਸਤਿਗੁਰ ਸੇਵੈ ਲਗਿਆ ਕਢਿ ਰਤਨੁ ਦੇਵੈ ਪਰਗਾਸਿ ॥
ਸਾਧੂ ਸੰਗਿ ਸਿਖਾਇਓ ਨਾਮੁ ॥
ਝਾਲਾਘੇ ਉਠਿ ਨਾਮੁ ਜਪਿ ਨਿਸਿ ਬਾਸੁਰ ਆਰਾਧਿ ॥
ਨਾਮ ਬਿਨਾ ਜੋ ਪਹਿਰੈ ਖਾਇ ॥ ਜਿਉ ਕੂਕਰੁ ਜੂਠਨ ਮਹਿ ਪਾਇ ॥੧॥
ਨਾਮ ਬਿਨਾ ਜੇਤਾ ਬਿਉਹਾਰੁ ॥ ਜਿਉ ਮਿਰਤਕ ਮਿਥਿਆ ਸੀਗਾਰੁ ॥੨॥
ਨਾਮੁ ਬਿਸਾਰਿ ਕਰੇ ਰਸ ਭੋਗ ॥ਸੁਖੁ ਸੁਪਨੈ ਨਹੀ ਤਨ ਮਹਿ ਰੋਗ ॥੩॥
ਨਾਮੁ ਤਿਆਗਿ ਕਰੇ ਅਨ ਕਾਜ ॥ਬਿਨਸਿ ਜਾਇ ਝੂਠੇ ਸਭਿ ਪਾਜ ॥੪॥
ਨਾਮ ਸੰਗਿ ਮਨਿ ਪ੍ਰੀਤਿ ਨ ਲਾਵੈ ॥ ਕੋਟਿ ਕਰਮ ਕਰਤੋ ਨਰਕਿ ਜਾਵੈ ॥੫॥
ਨਾਨਕ ਬਿਨੁ ਨਾਵੈ ਜੋਗੁ ਕਦੇ ਨ ਹੋਵੈ ਦੇਖਹੁ ਰਿਦੈ ਬੀਚਾਰੇ ॥੬੮॥
ਕੋਈ ਕਰੈ ਉਪਾਵ ਅਨੇਕ ਬਹੁਤੇਰੇ ਬਿਨੁ ਕਿਰਪਾ ਨਾਮੁ ਨ ਪਾਵੈ ॥
Waheguru Waheguru Waheguru Waheguru Waheguru
Jan Naanak Ko Gur Kirpaa Dhaari Mat Gurmat Naam Driraave ||
Mat Gurmat Naam Driraave || Waahegurroo
ਮੇਰੇ ਮਨ ਨਾਮੁ ਹਿਰਦੈ ਧਾਰਿ ॥
ਕਰਿ ਪ੍ਰੀਤਿ ਮਨੁ ਤਨੁ ਲਾਇ ਹਰਿ ਸਿਉ ਅਵਰ ਸਗਲ ਵਿਸਾਰਿ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
Why I Didn’t Want To Blog Lately
Death would detach us from everything and there would be nothing left of ‘me’ to reincarnate. My thoughts, my memories, my feelings, my disappointments will be all gone. Everything within me would break into pieces, smaller and smaller and be flown away with the wind and rain.
We are like computer programs in a memory, as long as we work on finding our solution, we can solve the problem and reach the next level of execution (as a process). If not, we run out of laptop battery, we shut down and all things in the memory (not hard disk, that could be DNA) would be lost. After some time, if we get a power source, we might ‘restart’ but there would be no trace of the process running before. A new process would be started and it would again try to find the solution.
And the complexity of reaching a solution is infinite in terms of time and space!
PS: Don’t mind my philosophical outburst and computer science lingo!
Lost Archive
This post has been taken from an unspecified Tumblr account:
He loved her in a distant kind of way, the same way the sun heats the Earth. If she were to disappear completely, he knew through pure logic that it would have no great, disastrous effect on him. He would not cease to be; he would not stop breathing; his heart would not stop beating; the world would not stop spinning. The sun would keep shining, radiating heat, if the Earth were not there. On a certain, purely physical level, her absence would have absolutely zero effect on his person. And yet…
He loved her in an abstract kind of way, the way a bee loves honey. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to love her, but he wanted to love her just the same. Maybe somebody told him once that he should be in love with somebody, so he felt a need to pick somebody and it just so happened to be her. Maybe. Being in love was nice, sure, but he didn’t need to be.
And yet…
He loved her in a removed kind of way, the way a butterfly’s wings can start a tsunami halfway around the world. He knew that it had an effect on her, but he wasn’t sure how great. On a certain level he was aware that if he were to stop, if he were to disappear, it would have a drastic effect. For him it would be one less flap of his wings, in a manner of speaking, if such a thing were possible without him falling from the sky.
And yet…
He loved her in a subtle kind of way. It wasn’t the kind of love you see in movies, with swelling music and giant gestures and running through the streets to catch a departing train. It wasn’t the kind of love that Byron or Shakespeare wrote about, with flowery language and hyperbole and iambic pentameter. It was still and deep, like water that you might mistake for shallow if you just watched the surface. It was entirely his, not dependent on her own feelings for him, and it would still be there whether she, or him, or everyone else on the world disappeared. It was a subtle kind of love, but it was true.
And she loved him just the same.
People Ask
I have been meeting people asking me that repeated set of questions:
Where have you come from?
Where will you go when you are done?
I answer in a way that makes sense to them… but not to me. I am lost in the answers I know. And I don’t tell them, or they will say I take things too seriously.
I wasted much part of the evening just because I couldn’t say no. But someone also ended it on a good note by saying I am smart. It was like a cruel joke, outcome of the sum of all uncertainties, trying to justify my meaningless existence.
The walk back, it was windy out there. Not too cold thought the roads were icy and slippery. And that walk to the campus was like the most beautiful thing I had experienced in a long time. The infinite sky enveloped in a darkness no one can explain. People going by, but you don’t feel alone for the first time. No one is in rush and there is peace.
And very slowly, I sing these lines to those present:
ਸਤਿਗੁਰੁ ਸਿਖ ਕਉ ਨਾਮ ਧਨੁ ਦੇਇ ॥ ਗੁਰ ਕਾ ਸਿਖੁ ਵਡਭਾਗੀ ਹੇ ॥
The True Guru gives His Sikh the wealth of the Naam. The Sikh of the Guru is very fortunate.
PS: I think the first question can be answered the way Ishna ji of SPN puts it -
I am just a billion year old carbon.
Ganga
Ganga (and its waves) are metaphor to the swelling of knowledge and wisdom within the soul as it breaks the chains of the mind. Hope you enjoy the Shabad below.
ਗੰਗ ਗੁਸਾਇਨਿ ਗਹਿਰ ਗੰਭੀਰ ॥
The Lord of Ganges is deep and profound.
ਜੰਜੀਰ ਬਾਂਧਿ ਕਰਿ ਖਰੇ ਕਬੀਰ ॥੧॥
Tied up in chains, they took Kabeer there. ||1||
ਮਨੁ ਨ ਡਿਗੈ ਤਨੁ ਕਾਹੇ ਕਉ ਡਰਾਇ ॥
My mind was not shaken; why should my body be afraid?
ਚਰਨ ਕਮਲ ਚਿਤੁ ਰਹਿਓ ਸਮਾਇ ॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
My consciousness remained immersed in the Lotus Feet of the Lord. ||1||Pause||
ਗੰਗਾ ਕੀ ਲਹਰਿ ਮੇਰੀ ਟੁਟੀ ਜੰਜੀਰ ॥
The waves of the Ganges broke the chains,
ਮ੍ਰਿਗਛਾਲਾ ਪਰ ਬੈਠੇ ਕਬੀਰ ॥੨॥
and Kabeer was seated on a deer skin. ||2||
ਕਹਿ ਕੰਬੀਰ ਕੋਊ ਸੰਗ ਨ ਸਾਥ ॥
Says Kabeer, I have no friend or companion.
ਜਲ ਥਲ ਰਾਖਨ ਹੈ ਰਘੁਨਾਥ ॥੩॥੧੦॥੧੮॥
On the water, and on the land, the Lord is my Protector.
