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Based on the weekly JUST BE IT blog talk radio show each saturday 6pm AZ time, Exploring our Inner Being, What is consciousness, writings of mystics and seekers from ancient and modern times

Archive for the category “Kabir”

Writings from Kabir

From

Beloved May I Enter: Kabir dohas and other poems, Translated by Sushil Rao

Kabir

hiding in this cage
of visible matter

is the invisible lifebird
pay attention to her
she is singing your song

lift the veil
that obscures the heart

and there you will find
what you are looking for

The next two poems are

from The Kabir Book: Forty-Four fo the Ecstatic Poems of Kabir,

Translated by Robert Bly

 Hey brother, why do you want me to talk?
Talk and talk and the real things get lost.

Talk and talk and things get out of hand.
Why not stop talking and think?

If you meet someone good, listen a little, speak;
If you meet someone bad, clench up like a fist.

Talking with a wise man is a great reward.
Talking with a fool? A waste.

Kabir says: A pot makes noise if it’s half full,
But fill it to the brim — no sound.

The Guest is inside you, and also inside me;
you know the sprout is hidden inside the seed.
We are all struggling; none of us has gone far.
Let your arrogance go, and look around inside.

The blue sky opens out further and farther,
the daily sense of failure goes away,
the damage I have done to myself fades,
a million suns come forward with light,
when I sit firmly in that world.

I hear bells ringing that no one has shaken,
inside “love” there is more joy than we know of,
rain pours down, although the sky is clear of clouds,
there are whole rivers of light.
The universe is shot through in all parts by a single sort of love.
How hard it is to feel that joy in all our four bodies!

Those who hope to be reasonable about it fail.
The arrogance of reason has separated us from that love.
With the word “reason” you already feel miles away.

How lucky Kabir is, that surrounded by all this joy
he sings inside his own little boat.
His poems amount to one soul meeting another.
These songs are about forgetting dying and loss.
They rise above both coming in and going out.

Kabir is…

His name is Kabir born as a Muslim in 1440.  Yet he is loved by Muslims, Hindu and Sikhs.

There is a  story is told how Kabir found his teacher who was a Hindu saint.

There was one particular day of the year, anyone can become a disciple by having a master speak the name of God over him.  The saint Ramananda took his bath as he did and all lived near the holy river Ganges every day, by arising before dawn. On this special day, Ramananda as he was walking down the steps to the sacred waters of the river Ganges, a little hand reached out  and grabbed the saint’s big toe. Ramananda was taken by surprise and he expressed his shock by calling out the name of God. Looking down he saw in the early morning light the hand of the young Kabir. After his bath in the early light he noticed that on the back of the little one’s hand was written in Arabic the name Kabir. He adopted him as son and disciple and brought him back to his ashram, much to the disturbance of his Hindu students, some of whom left in protest.

It is said that what really made this meeting the most special is that in this case it, was only after Kabir’s enlightenment that Ramananda, his teacher, became enlightened.

Kabir never abandoned worldly life, choosing instead to live the balanced life of a householder and mystic, tradesman . Kabir was married, had children, and lived the simple life of a weaver.

Kabir worked on bringing peace to the often clashing religious cultures of Islam and Hinduism. He was known for not liking any form of professional piety. Nearing age 60, he was persecuted by the religious authorities and denounced before the king. He had to leave his hometown and  lived a life of exile, traveling through northern India with a group of disciples and passed over  In 1518.

Kabir’s disciples disputed over his body, the Muslims wanting to claim the body for burial, the Hindus wanting to cremate the body. Kabir appeared to the arguing disciples and told them to lift the burial shroud. When they did so, they found fragrant flowers where the body had rested. The flowers were divided, and the Muslims buried the flowers while the Hindus  committed them to fire.

O’ the wandering mind ~Kabir

Blind to Bounds

Kabir has hardly spared any animate and inanimate examples to ridicule the bigots who have great illusions about their self image and through their beliefs repeatedly,  make a fool of themselves.
In the same spirit, I came across yet another simple yet interest verses.

Poem 1: 

Apanpo aap hi bisaro.
Says Kabir, they  fall prey to their  own illusions and forget the essence of our existence.

Jaise sonha kaanch mandir me, bharamat bhunki paro.
Just as dog who enters the house of mirrors, goes crazy barking at the images, considering them different. This is a very curious satire on those bigots who bark at other bigots, thinking they are different, but in essence are reflections of each other.

Jyo kehari bapu nirakhi koop jal, pratima dekhi paro.
A lion looks deep into the well, and mistakes his own reflection as another lion, and jumps into it. This also satires on…

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I burst into laughter Kabir

I burst into laughter
whenever I hear
that the fish is thirsty in water.

Without the knowledge of Self
people just wander to Mathura or to Kashi
like the musk-deer unaware
of the scent in his navel,
goes on running forest to forest.

In water is the lotus plant
and the plant bears flowers
and on the flowers are the bees buzzing.
Likewise all yogis and mendicants
and all those who have renounced comforts,
are on here and hereafter and the nether world —
contemplating.

Friend, the Supreme Indestructible Being,
on whom thousands of sages meditate
and even Brahma, Vishnu and Mahesh,
really resides within one’s self.

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