The Book of Nanak

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The Book of Nanak Page 9

by Navtej Sarna


  And repeating His Name, we cross the terrible ocean of the world.

  He who lives detached, enshrining the Lord in his mind

  Without desire in the midst of desire,

  Sees and shows the Inaccessible and Incomprehensible

  Of him Nanak is a slave.

  Say the Yogis:

  Who is unmanifest? Who is emancipated?

  Who is united within and without?

  Who is he who comes and goes?

  Who is he who pervades the three worlds?

  Says Nanak:

  The all pervasive is unmanifest

  The spiritual man is free

  He too is united within and without with the Name

  The self-centred man comes and goes

  Nanak, His follower knows that He pervades the three worlds.

  Say the Yogis:

  What is the origin of life? What faith predominates the time?

  Who is thy Guru, whose disciple are you?

  Uttering whose discourse do you remain unique?

  Listen to what we say, O Nanak child.

  Tell us of this discourse. How does the Lord ferry man across the terrible ocean?

  Says Nanak:

  The breath is the beginning; the True Lord hold’s sway

  The Lord my Guru, I his disciple love his meditation

  The discourse of the Ineffable One makes me unique

  O Nanak, the Cherisher of the world through the ages is my Guru.

  Unique is the Lord and meditating on His discourse

  His follower crosses the terrible ocean

  And quenches the fire of his ego.

  Listen O Yogi, to the quintessence of Divine discourse

  Without the Name, there is no yoga.

  Those touched by the Name are intoxicated day and night

  Through the Name, they find peace.

  Through the Name is all revealed

  Through the Name comes understanding

  Without the Name, many disguise themselves

  Misled by the Lord himself.

  From the True Lord is the Name attained

  And then one knows the true yoga.

  O Nanak, reflect in thy mind and see

  There is no salvation without the Name.

  You alone know Your size and estimation

  What can anyone else explain?

  You Yourself are hidden, and revealed

  And Yours are all the joys

  Many seekers, accomplished ones, spiritual teachers,

  And many disciples wander in Thy search, by Thy command

  Beseech thee for thy Name, and are granted;

  O Lord, for thy vision I sacrifice myself.

  The imperishable One has staged this play

  His true follower understands

  O Nanak, He alone pervades all worlds

  There is no other.

  Babar Vani

  Guru Nanak’s Babar Vani is the composition of protest at the invasion of Babar and the suffering inflicted on innocent citizens, particularly the womenfolk. In four shabads, three of which are set to the Raga Asa and the fourth to Raga Tilang, Nanak pours forth the reaction of not just an eyewitness but also of a philosophical sage, a visionary and a poet. The suffering of humankind, the shortcomings of that age, the profligacy of India’s rulers at that time, the nature of the divine will and the suffering that mankind has to endure when the cosmic principles on which the world rests are ignored, are all brought out in these compositions renowned for their truth, spiritual insight and literary beauty.

  As God’s Word comes to me

  So I speak, O Lalo.

  He (Babar) has charged from Kabul

  With the wedding party of sin

  And demands gifts by force, O Lalo.

  Modesty and righteousness

  Are in hiding

  Falsehood is in command, O Lalo.

  The Qazis and Brahmins

  Have had their day,

  Satan reads the marriage vows, O Lalo.

  Muslim women read the Quran

  In suffering

  Call on God, O Lalo.

  And Hindu women

  Of caste high and low

  Suffer the same fate, O Lalo.

  O Nanak, paeans of blood are sung

  And anointment is not by saffron

  But blood, O Lalo.

  Nanak sings the virtues of the Lord

  In this city of corpses

  And utters this truth:

  The One who created men

  And gave them joys

  Beholds them in His solitude.

  He is True,

  True His verdict

  And true His justice

  —Raga Tilang

  They with the beautiful tresses

  Sacred vermillion in their partings,

  Their heads are now shorn with scissors

  And dust chokes their throats

  They who lived in palaces

  No longer can even sit outside

  Praise to thee O Lord, praise,

  O Primal Lord, none knows your li
mits,

  Endlessly, You behold Yourself in diverse forms.

  When they were married,

  Their bridegrooms handsome beside them,

  They came seated in palanquins,

  And adorned in ornaments of ivory,

  Welcoming waters greeted them

  And glittering fans comforted them from close,

  Riches were gifted as they sat

  And riches when they stood,

  They ate coconuts and dates

  And took pleasure on comfortable beds;

  Ropes now are around their necks

  Their pearl strings are broken.

  The wealth and youthful beauty

  That gave them joy, are now their enemy;

  The soldiers have been ordered, and

  Dishonouring them, they take them away.

  —Raga Asa

 

 

 


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