Sat for my music evening a day late today. The song of choice for this evening was a poem written by Obaidullah Aleem. Born in Bhopal, India, the poet emigrated to Pakistan early in his life when his family moved and eventually died in Karachi, Pakistan. The rendition for this evening was by Ghulam Ali.

“Kuch din to baso meri aankhon mein
Phir khwab agar ho jao to kya

Jab dekhne wala koi nai
Bujh jao to kya jal jao to kya”

Roughly translated…

“Stay in my eyes for a few more precious moments,
Then if you turn out to be a dream, who really cares?

Give me some (red) color in my cheeks with your presence
Then if it turns to be blood from your hurt, who really cares?

There was a mirror we had (of love), now it is all broken
Now if you blush at your own self, who really cares?

I was lonely then and I am lonely now
You may come. You may not. Who really cares?

When I am myself not there in the garden to enjoy it,
You can blow like the fresh morning breeze, who really cares?

When there is nobody around to see it,
You can glow in love or be dark, who really cares?”

“Bhalobesey sakhi nibhritey jotoney
Aamar naam-ti likho, tomar monero mondir-e
Amaro poran-e je gaan baajhichhe
Tahar taal-ti sikho, tomar chorono monjeer-e”

“Out of old affection, gently and quietly
Do inscribe my name in the temple of your soul
Of that song that invariably sways my heart
Do teach your anklets how to dance to the rhythm”

Now reading Taoism in that book Religions of Man. I had very little understanding of Taoism before this. One of the key learnings I had was Taoism’s focus on “creative quietude” (wu wei). In chapter 78 in the book Tao Te Ching (by founder Lao Tzu), is a great poem comparing the virtues of water – infinitely supple yet incomparably strong – to wu wei. (in the context of water eroding away rocks)

“What is more fluid, more yielding than water?
Yet back it comes again, wearing down the tough strength
Which cannot move to withstand it.
So it is that the strong yield to the weak,
The haughty, to the humble.
This we know.
But never learn.”

There is another poem in Chapter 17, that I had read before but never realized that the source is the original book of Taoism.

“A leader is best
When people barely know that he exists
… Of a good leader, who talks little
When is work is done, his aim fulfilled,
They will all say, ‘We did this ourselves’ ”

I am reading this book called “Religions of Man”. It is a fascinating book and I will write the review later. I just finished up with Hinduism and Buddhism. Have another six religions to go.

This poem is by Seng Ts’an. As I was reading up about him in Wikipedia, found this amazing story of how he – well into his forties – met the monk who eventually became his teacher and gave him the name Seng Ts’an (gem monk). Their interaction (like many koans in Zen Buddhism) went something like this:

Seng Ts’an: I am riddled with sickness. Please absolve me of my sin.
Huike: Bring your sin here and I will absolve you.
Seng Ts’an (after a long pause): When I look for my sin, I cannot find it.
Huike: I have absolved you. You should live by the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha

Any way, the poem called “Trust in the Heart” goes the following way:

The Perfect Way is only difficult for those who pick and choose
Do not like, do not dislike, all will then be clear,
Make a hairbreadth difference, and Heaven and Earth are set apart;
If you want the truth to stand clear before you, never be for or against.
The struggle between “for” and “against” is the mind’s worst disease.
Do not try to drive pain away by pretending that it is not real;
Pain, if you seek serenity in Oneness, will vanish of its own accord.
Thoughts that are fettered turn from Truth,
Sink into the unwise habit of “not liking.”
“Not liking” brings weariness of spirit; estrangements serve no purpose.
The One is non other than the A;;. the All none other than the One.
Take your stand on this, and the rest will follow of its accord;
To trust in the Heart is the “Not Two”, the “Not Two’ is to trust in the Heart
I have spoken, but in vain; for what can words tell
Of things that have no yesterday, tomorrow or today.

This is a classic from 1888, I believe.

“Amaro porano jaha chaay
Tumi tai, tumi tai go
Toma chhara aar e jogotey
Mor keho nai, kichu nai go

Tumi sukho jodi nahi pao
Jao sukhero sondhaney jao
Ami tomarey peyechhi hridoyo majhe
Aaro kichu nahi chai go

Aami tomaro birohey rohibo bilino
Tomatey koribo bash.
Dirgho diboso dirgho rojoni
Dirgho borosho maash.

Jodi aaro kaarey bhalobaso
Jodi aaro phirey nahi aaso
Tobey tumi jaha chao tai jano pao
Aami joto dukhho pai go…”

My scholarly Bengali friends can do a better job in translating this for non-Bengali readers, but here is a shot…

“What my heart has always sought
You are just that, veritably so
Bereft of you, in this world
I have no one; truly, I have nothing

If (however) you don’t find happiness here
Go forth, seek your happiness elsewhere
I have found you in my heart
I do not need anything else

Yes, I will be forlorn in your absence
But I know I will live within you
Every single long day and night
Every single long month and year

If you find love in somebody else
If you never come back again to me
Then be it that you get all you have sought
No matter how much I hurt here”

It describes the vagaries of life and the futility of one’s sense of ego.

Most of the song has references to Hindu mythological epics of Ramayana and Mahabharata. But the first few words are fairly generic…

“Chiradon kaharo
Soman nahi jaay
Aajkey je raajadhiraj
Kaal se bhiksha chaay”

Everyday is never going
To be the same for anybody
One who is the emperor today
Will someday be reduced to begging

“Usne poocha sabse kya pasand hai tumhe
Main bohot der tak dekhta raha usey
Bas ye sochkar ki
Khud javab hokar usne savaal kyun ki”

She asked what I cherished the most
For a long time I kept staring at her
All the time wondering to myself
Why would an answer to a question ask the question?

Poet: Rajendra Krishan

“Murjha chuka hain dil bhi, Yeh dil phool hi to hain
Ab aapki khushi ise, Kaaton mein toliye
Khud dil se dil ki baat kahi, Aur ro liye
Yun hasraton ke daag, Muhobbat mein dho liye”

Roughly translated…
Wilted as it is, my heart is still a delicate flower
I leave it to you whether you treat it as a flower or a thorn
Had a heart to heart with my own heart; and tears rolled away
The stains of my own desires… I washed them out with my love.

“Aag Daman Mein Lag Jayeegi…”

Tera pyar hai meri zindagi
Teri yaad hai meri bandagi
Jo teri khushi woh meri khushi
Ye mere junoon ka hai mojza
Jahan apne sar ko jhuka diya
Wahan mein ne kaaba bana diya

“Your love is my life
Your remembrance is my prayer
Whatever is your wish is my wish
Such is the miracle of my craze for you
That wherever I put my head down for you
They built a mosque there”