MEDITATION TIMES APRIL 2010

A DOWNLOADABLE E-MAGAZINE Vol III * April 2010 * Issue IV Meditation leads to Ultimate Flowering

Introducing various Masters & Dimensions of Spiritual Sojourn

TM

ENLIGHTENMENT

a quest to be ordinary www.taoshobuddhameditations.com

MEDITATION TIMES A Downloadable Monthly E-Magazine

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A PRODUCTION OF www.taoshobuddhameditations.com Published by: www.taoshobuddhameditations.com Country of Origin: Trinidad & Tobago, West Indies.

Chief Editor/Graphics Layout & Design: Swami Anand Neelambar Editorial Team: Swami Anand Neelambar, Taoshobuddha International Contributors: Hadhrat Maulawi Jalaluddin Ahmad Ar-Rowi, Lars Jensen Assistant Contributors: Ma Prem Sutra, Swami Dhyan Yatri, Sufi Lakshmi Sahai

In This Issue  Editorial  Buddha’s Path of Wisdom  Dhammapada  Golden Chain Naqshbandiyah

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 Book Review - Hanuman Chalisa  Junnaid ibn Mohammed

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 Mulla Nasruddin  Rabindranath Tagore

Also you can check the blog at http://bodhidharmameditation.blogspot.com/

 Mool Mantra of Nanak

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 Zen and Enlightenment

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ENLIGHTENMENT is your very essence

MEDITATION TIMES Published by Taoshobuddha Meditations Trinidad, West indies

EDITORIAL We continue the enlightenment saga. Life is an experience and an opportunity. Enlightenment is when we understand what to do with the opportunity that is given to us. Each of us has a unique song to sing and make the universe a harmony of musical melodies. The orchestra will be left unfulfilled were we not to find our song and sing it. The techniques to re-cover these ancient echoes are varied and multifarious. The sad reality is that we have forgotten the natural rhythms and now dance to robotic beats with mechanical precision. Mind is now master. The heart waits in silence...ever resounding the mystical vibrations that continue to fall on deaf ears.

An inner tuning is needed to hear this silent melody – a still mind. The small voice of the existence is mute when the mind is engaged in the maddening rush to nowhere. The noise and clamour of material pursuits is deaf and immune to the realms of inner calling. The cries from the yonder hills are lost in the busy streets of the market place. Now and again a thunderous lion’s roar awakens one lonely seeker...and he is quickly silence by the crowd that is slumbering for eons.

His message of life eternal is heard as gibberish and he is scoffed and told to go back to sleep. The slumber pains his soul and he moves to solitude to embrace his beloved. His constant companion is the echoes in the pines that carry the eternal songs. The birds sing the praises and the brooks murmur the enchanting rhapsodies.

The flowers display his canvas of beauty while the star studded skies reveal his fathomless secrets in a matrix of intricate tapestry.

The universe in enlightened. Man is enlightened. We are already where we need to be. Our songs are being

sung by the mute gestures of our actions. We need only learn to listen...then listen to learn. Our destinies are here now. We come from here...we live here...and we shall dissolve into the herenow. The coming is the going and the going is the coming.

This issue highlights many episodes in the drama of enlightenment. The world came to formalize enlightenment with the appearance of Buddha; and sang beautiful songs from an enlightenment poet’s heart in Gitanjali – the enlightened songs of Rabindranath Tagore. We smile and laugh at the wit of Mulla Nasruddin – the humorous expression of enlightenment. Guru Nanak sang simple songs of rustic unpolished enlightenment. Junnaid expressed enlightenment with his insights into everyday events.

The drama does not end. It continues erelong with each song...and with each enlightenment, existence is made richer and more beautiful.

We try to cater to as many needs as we possibly can in each issue. And if a particular issue is not to your liking do not give up on account of our misgivings; a future issue shall most likely strike a chord somewhere in the inner recess of your soul. The responses from our readers so far have been most encouraging and rewarding. All the issues are bumper issues and are eagerly awaited by the readers. We encourage your participation and suggestions.

We close with this quotation; “Don’t work for a living and have no time left to live.”

H

uman mind precedes all mental states and situations. Mind is their chief. All states of the mind are wrought by the mind itself. If a person speaks or acts with an impure mind, suffering verily follows him like the wheel that follows the foot of the ox.

Mind precedes all mental states. Mind is their chief. Each action or word is wrought by the mind. If a person speaks or acts with a pure mind happiness then follows him like his never departing shadow.

He abused me, he struck me, he overpowered me, and he robbed me. Those who nurture such thoughts do not still their hatred and thus continue to nourish and nurture it.

He abused me, he struck me, he overpowered me he robbed me. Those who do not harbor such thoughts still their hatred thus hatred does not trouble them anymore.

Hatred is never appeased by hatred in this world.

By non hatred alone is hatred appeased. This is a law eternal.

There are those who do not realize that one day we all must die. But those who do realize this settle their quarrels and thus live a life of bliss and harmony.

Just as a storm uproots a weak tree, so does ‘Mara’ overpower the man who lives for the pursuit of pleasure, and who is controlled in his senses immoderate in eating indolent and dissipated.

Just as storm cannot prevail against a rocky mountain, so too ‘Mara’ can never overpower the

man who lives meditating on the impurities, who is controlled in his senses, moderate in eating and filled with faith and earnest effort.

Whoever being depraved, devoid of self control and truthfulness should not put on the monk’s yellow robe, he surely is not worthy of the yellow robe.

But whoever is purged of depravity, well established in virtues and filled with self – control and truthfulness, he indeed is worthy of yellow robe.

Those who mistake the non-essential to be essential and essential to be non-essential, dwelling in wrong thought never arrive at the essential.

Those who know the essential to be essential and the non-essential to be non-essential dwelling in right thoughts, do arrive at essential.

Just as rain breaks through an ill-thatched house so passion penetrates an undeveloped mind.

Just as rain does not break through a well thatched house so passion never penetrates a well developed mind.

The evil-doer grieves here and hereafter, he grieves in both worlds. He laments and is afflicted, recollecting his own pure deeds.

The doer of good rejoices here and hereafter. He rejoices in both worlds. He rejoices and exults recollecting his own pure deeds.

The evil doer suffers here and here after, he suffers in both worlds. The thought ‘evil have I

done’, torments him, and he suffers even more when gone to realms of woe.

The doer of good deeds delights here and hereafter. He delights in both worlds. The thought good have I done delights him and he delights even more when gone to realms of bliss.

Much though he recites the sacred texts, but acts not accordingly, that heedless man is like a cowherd who only counts the cows of others – he does not partake of blessings of the holy life.

Little though he recites the sacred texts, but puts the Teachings into practice forsaking lust, hatred, and delusion, with true wisdom and emancipated mind, clinging to nothing partakes of blessings of a holy life.

Should one find a man who points out the faults and who reproves, let him follow such a wise and sagacious person as one would a guide to hidden treasure, It is always better, and never worse, to cultivate such an association.

Let him admonish, instruct and shield one from wrong; he indeed, is dear to the good and detestable to the evil.

The good renounce (attachment for) everything.

The virtuous do not prattle with a yearning for pleasures; the wise show no elation or depression when touched by happiness or sorrow.

Enlightenment is falling upwards just as love is falling downwards. But something is similar in both; the falling – unreasonable, unexplainable, inexpressible. Only those to whom it has happened know, and even when it has happened you cannot explain it to anybody to whom it has not happened yet.

Christmas Humphreys calls Zen "Zen Buddhism" That is starting in the wrong direction from the very beginning. Zen is not Buddhism -- the essential core of the heart of Buddha, certainly, but it is the essential core of Moses too, the essential core of Zarathustra too, Lao Tzu too. It is the essential core of all those who have become enlightened, of all those who have awakened from their dream, of all those who have seen that the goose is out, that the goose has never been in, that the problem was not a problem at all in the first place, hence no solution is needed.

Christmas Humphreys says: "There is a method of taking the problem in flank, as it were. It will be nonsense to the rational-minded..."

He himself is rational-minded; otherwise, it is not nonsense. Nonsense is something below sense. Zen is supra-sense, not nonsense; it is above sense. It is something far beyond the reaches of reason. Logic is a very ordinary game; anybody who has a little intelligence can play the game. The moment you go beyond logic then you enter into the world of Zen. It is not nonsense, it is supra-sense. His very use of the word "nonsense" shows a deep-down bias towards rationality.

The Goose is Out - OSHO

D

hammapada is a Buddhist scripture that contains 423 verses in 26 categories.

According to tradition these verses were spoken by Buddha at different times. And most of these deal with ethics.

The Dhammapada, an anthology of 423 verses, has long been recognised as one of the Master pieces of early Buddhist literature. From ancient times to the present, the Dhammapada has been regarded as the most succinct expression of the Buddha's Teaching found in the Theravada Pali Canon of scriptures known as the Khuddaka Nikaya (‘Minor Collection’) of the Sutta Pitaka.

Buddhist tradition has it that shortly after the passing away of the Buddha his disciples met in council at Rajagaha for the purpose of recalling to mind the truths they had received from their beloved Master during the forty-five years of his ministry. Their hope was to implant the principles of his message so firmly in memory that they would become a lasting impetus to moral and spiritual conduct, for themselves, their disciples, and for all future disciples who would seek to follow in the footsteps of the Awakened One. With the Master no longer among them, the monks found themselves with the responsibility of handing on the teaching as faithfully as possible. Having no written texts to rely on, they did as their ancestors had before them and prepared their discourses for recitation, that is, basic themes were repeated with variations in order to impress the ideas on their hearers. At that time, according to the Sinhalese, the Dhammapada was orally assembled from the sayings of Gautama given on some three hundred different occasions. Subsequently, several

renditions of the Dhammapada in the Sanskrit and Chinese languages came into circulation.

Likewise, a number of stanzas are to be found almost verbatim in other texts of the canonical literature, testifying to the esteem in which its content was anciently held. Since first collated, the Dhammapada has become one of the best loved of Buddhist scriptures, recited daily by millions of devotees who chant its verses in Pali or in their native dialect.

It was inevitable that differences in interpretation of teaching as well as of disciplinary practices would arise, with the result that about a century after the First Council was held a second gathering was called to affirm the purity of the doctrine. It was at this Second Council that the Arhats divided into two main streams, namely, the Mahasanghika or ‘Great Assembly’ and the Theravada or ‘Doctrine of Elders.’

These gradually developed into the Mahayana or Northern School of Buddhism espoused chiefly in India, Tibet, China, and later Japan, and the Hinayana or Southern School whose stronghold is Sri Lanka, Burma, and the countries of Southeast Asia.

(From the Dhammapada Foreword of Dr. Harischandra Kaviratna, with minor adaptations, 1980, Theosophical University Press)

TheMan is born only as a potential. If you do not develop your potential, and do not grow spiritually, you are just like an ox. The body will go on becoming bigger and bigger, but that is not growth. Growing old is not growing up, growing physically is not growing spiritually. And unless you grow spiritually you are wasting a precious opportunity.

Man is the only being on the earth who can attain to buddhahood. Elephants and lions and tigers cannot become buddhas. Only man can become a buddha, only man can become a thousand-petal lotus, only man can release the fragrance called God. Never waste a single moment in anything else. Do the essential things, but pour more and more energy into watchfulness, and awareness. Wake up! Unless you become a buddha you have not lived at all, because you will not know the great poetry of life, the great music of existence. You will not know the celestial celebration that goes on and on, you will not know the dance of the stars. It is for you to become part of this celebration. This bliss is for you! All these flowers and all these songs and all these stars are for you.

You are entitled to miracles — but grow up, wake up!

Freedom – the way of Buddha Gautama the Buddha’s whole religion can be reduced to a single word. That word is Freedom.

That is his essential message, his very fragrance.

Nobody else has raised freedom so high. It is the ultimate value in Buddha’s vision, the SUMMUM BONUM; there is nothing higher than that.

And it seems very fundamental to understand why Buddha emphasizes freedom so much.

Neither God is emphasized nor heaven is emphasized nor is love emphasized, but only freedom. There is a reason for it: all that is valuable becomes possible only in the climate of freedom. Love also grows only in the soil of freedom; without freedom, love cannot grow.

Without freedom, what grows in the name of love is nothing but lust. Without freedom there is no God. Without freedom what you think to be God is only your imagination, your fear, your greed.

There is no heaven without freedom: freedom is heaven. And if you think there is some heaven without freedom, then that heaven has no worth, no reality. It is your fancy, it is your dream.

All great values of life grow in the climate of freedom; hence freedom is the most fundamental value and also the highest pinnacle. If you want to understand Buddha you will have to taste something of the freedom he is talking about.

His freedom is not of the outside. It is not social, it is not political, and it is not economic. His freedom is spiritual. By ‘freedom’ he means a state of consciousness unhindered by any desire, greed, and lust for more. By ‘freedom’ he means a consciousness without mind, a state of no-mind.

It is utterly empty, because if there is something, that will hinder freedom; hence its utter emptiness.

This word ‘emptiness’ — SHUNYATA — has been very much misunderstood by people, because the word has a connotation of negativity. Whenever we hear the word ‘empty’ we think of something negative. In Buddha’s language, emptiness is not negative; emptiness is absolutely positive, more positive than your so-called fullness, because emptiness is full of freedom; everything else has been removed. It is spacious; all boundaries have been dropped. It is unbounded — and only in an unbounded space, freedom is possible. His emptiness is not ordinary emptiness; it is not only absence of something, instead it is a presence of something invisible.

For example, when you empty your room: you remove the furniture paintings and the everything else inside, the room becomes empty on the one hand because there is no furniture, paintings, or anything left inside; but on the other hand, something invisible starts filling it. That invisibleness is ‘roominess,’ or spaciousness; and the room becomes bigger. As you remove the things, the room is becoming bigger and bigger.

When everything is removed, even the walls, then the room is as big as the whole sky.

That is the whole process of meditation: removing everything; removing yourself so totally that nothing is left behind — not even you.

In that utter silence is freedom. In this utter stillness grows the one-thousand-petal lotus of freedom. And great fragrance is released. This is the fragrance of peace, compassion, love, and bliss. Or if you want to choose the word ‘God’ you

can choose it. It is not Buddha’s word, but there is no harm in choosing it.

Death the Ultimate Meditation Death has to be meditated upon; otherwise life can go on giving you false hopes. Remember death! Never forget it for a single moment!

Because of this insistence, many people have thought Buddha is death-obsessed; he is not. You may be life-obsessed but he is not deathobsessed. He is simply bringing everything to a balance. Life and death create equilibrium. We have made life an imbalance. Buddha is interested in equilibrium.

He says, as much as you are involved in life you have to remember death too, then there will be a balance, or equilibrium. He used to send his disciples, to watch whenever a dead body was being burned: ‘Just go, sit there, meditate and watch and remember this is going to happen to your body too.’

Death has to be meditated upon; otherwise life can go on giving you false hopes. If you remember death, life cannot deceive you anymore. Death will keep you alert. Buddha is not death-obsessed, but he has come to know one thing: that it is only by becoming aware of death that one gets rid of the obsession with the body, the obsession with food, the obsession with sex, the obsession with money, the obsession with the world. You have to live in life, but let there be a consciousness, constantly, that this life is slipping out of your hands and death is coming closer every moment. That will not allow you to be a victim of false desires and false hopes.

Truth is eternal, and eternal is not a dream Buddha says truth is eternal, and whatsoever is not eternal is a dream. Dreams are non – essential and not eternal therefore beware of the dreams! Remember your mind is also part of your body; that is why he says beware of false

imaginings. Your mind goes on giving you false ideas; it says, ‘Look how healthy I am, how strong I am, look how beautiful I am.’ It goes on deceiving you. It goes on telling you that death always happens to others, not to you. Nobody is an exception. And the mind is such a deceiver, both cunning, and crafty that it can make you believe anything. It can make you believe in money, and you will have to leave all your money when you go. But you cling to money people are ready to die for money.

In fact, that is how many people die: their whole lives are spent accumulating money. They sell their lives just to accumulate a few pieces of gold.

That gold will remain here and you will be gone, and the gold has no attachment to you. It is you who have created so many attachments.

And the mind always goes on creating a future. It goes on saying to you, ‘What has not happened yet is going to happen tomorrow — just wait!’ It keeps you hoping, it keeps you trying in new ways, in new pastures. If this woman has not satisfied you then the mind says, ‘It is because this woman is such — find another!” And this will go on and on. If this man is not satisfactory, the mind says, ‘It is because this man is wrong.’ But the mind never allows you to see the fact that no man, no woman, can ever satisfy anybody.

Satisfaction is not possible in this world.

Contentment is possible only when you move into your state of being, when you become a nomind. Contentment is the flavor of no-mind. And when you can manage, mind gives you fantasies, foolish, stupid, and absurd.

The mind can seduce you into anything, into any stupid thing. And once anything gets into your mind, it tortures and haunts you. You have to do it — it seems that is the only way to get rid of it.

But before you get rid of it, mind gives you another idea. Mind is very inventive as far as imagination is concerned. Mind can go on inexhaustibly creating new ideas for you. But that is what has been happening for lives. You have lived in this world for so many lives repeating the same kinds of things again and again, maybe a little bit different but the things are the same and still you go on hoping. Buddha says beware of

these false imaginings. The body is a shadow, and you have to leave it one day. You are not it.

the inner world it has no utility at all. It is a barrier; it has a negative effect on the inner experience.

Money, power and prestige all make you cunning

You say, “I understand you to say that the intellect is a barrier to self-realization.” The intellect is neither a barrier nor a bridge; intellect is neutral. Get identified with it, it becomes a barrier; remain unidentified with it, it is a bridge.

And without meditation you cannot know your transcendental nature.

Money, power, prestige — they all make you cunning. Seek pleasure and you will lose your innocence. And to lose your innocence is to lose all. Jesus says: be like a small child, only then can you enter into my kingdom of God. And he is right. But the pleasure-seeker cannot be as innocent as a child. He has to be very clever, very cunning, very political; only then can he succeed in this cut-throat competition that surrounds you.

Everybody is at everybody else’s throat. You are not living amongst friends. The world cannot be friendly unless we drop this idea of competitiveness.

From the very beginning we start poisoning every child with the poison of competitiveness.

By the time he will be coming out of the university he will be completely poisoned. We have hypnotized him with the idea that he has to fight with others, that life is a survival of the fittest. Then life can never be a celebration. Then life can never have any kind of religiousness in it.

Then it cannot be pious, and holy. Then it cannot have any quality of sacredness. Then it is all mean, ugly.

Meditation is the only way If you become an intellectual then you will not be a scientist; you will only write histories of science or philosophies of science, but you will not be a scientist, an explorer, an inventor, a discoverer, on your own. You will be simply accumulating information. Yes, that too has a certain use; as far as the outside world is concerned, even information has a certain limited utility, but in

In science, concentration is enough; at the most, contemplation is needed. In religion, meditation is the only way. Concentration is not needed, is not a help; it is a positive hindrance.

Contemplation also is not a help; it is a compensation for not being meditative, it is a poor substitute for it. Meditation alone can bring the inner revolution.

Meditation means getting out of the mind, looking at the mind from the outside. That’s exactly the meaning of the word ‘ecstasy’: to stand out. To stand out of the mind makes you ecstatic, brings bliss to you. And great intelligence is released. When you are identified with the mind you cannot be very intelligent because you become identified with an instrument, you become confined by the instrument and its limitations. And you are unlimited — you are consciousness.

Use the mind, but don’t become it. Use it as you use other machines. Mind is a beautiful machine.

If you can use it, it will serve you; if you cannot use it and it starts using you, it is destructive, it is dangerous. It is bound to take you into some trouble, into some calamity, into some suffering and misery, because a machine is a blind thing. It has no eyes, it has no insight. Mind cannot see; it can only go on repeating that which has been fed into it. It is like a computer; first you have to feed it.

GOLDEN CHAIN NAQSHBANDIYAH – MUJADADIYAH-MAZAHRIA 1. Prophet Huzoor Muhammad-ur-Rasoolullah s.a. (d. 12 Rabbiyul Awwal 11AH) -Medina 2. Hadhrat Abu Bakr Siddique r.a. (d. 22 Jama’dil A'lhar 13AH) - Medina 3. Hadhrat Salman al-faris r.a. (d. 10 Rajjab 35AH) - Madain 4. Hadhrat Imaam Qasim bin Muhammad bin Abu Bakr r.a. (d. 24 Jama'dil ( Awwal/A'khar) 107AH) Medina 5. Hadhrat Imaam Ja’far al-Sadiq r.a. (d. 15 Rajjab Murajjab 148AH) - Medina 6. Hadhrat Bayazid Bastami r.a. (d. 14/17 Sha’ban 261AH) - Bastam 7. Hadhrat Abul Hassan Khurqaani r.a. (d. 15 Ramda’n 425AH) – Khurqan 8. Hadhrat khwaja Abul Quqsim Ghurghani r.a.

9. Hadhrat Abu Ali Farmadi r.a. (d. 4 Rabbiyul Awwal 477AH) - Mashad 10. Hadhrat Yusuf Hamdani r.a. (d. 27 Rajjab 535AH) - Turkistan 11. Hadhrat Abdul Khaliq Gajadwani r.a. (d. 12 Rabbiyul Awwal 575AH) - Bukhara 12. Hadhrat Muhammad Arif Riogri r.a. (d. 1 Shawwa'l 615AH) - Tajikistan 13. Hadhrat Mehmood Injir Faghnavi r.a. (d. 17 Rabbiyul Awwal 715AH) - Bukhara 14. Hadhrat Azizane Ali Raamitni r.a. (d. 718/721AH) - Bukhara 15. Hadhrat Muhammad Baba Samasi r.a. (d. 755AH) - Bukhara 16. Hadhrat Sayyed Amir Kulaal r.a. (d. 772AH) - Bukhara 17. Hadhrat Kwajah Bahauddin Naqshband r.a. (d. 2 Rajab al-Murajjab, 791AH) - Qasr-e-Aarifan (Bukhara) 18. Hadhrat Alaa’uddin Attaar r.a. (d. 20 Rajab 802AH) - Jafaaniyan (Mawralnahar) 19. Hadhrat Ya’qoob Charkhi r.a. (d. 5 Safar, 851AH) - Charkh (Bukhara) 20. Hadhrat Ubeydullah Ahraar r.a. (d. 20/29 Rabi al-Awwal, 895AH) - Samarqand (Mawralnahar) 21. Hadhrat Muhammad Zaahid r.a. (d. 1 Rabi al-Awwal, 936AH) - Wakhsh (Malk Hasaar) 22. Hadhrat Darwesh Muhammad r.a. (d. 19 Muharram, 970AH) - Samarqand (Mawralnahar) 23. Hadhrat Muhammad Waaqif Akanki r.a. (d. 21/22 Sha'baan, 1008AH) - Akang (Bukhara)

From here on the Naqshbandi path enters the Indian Sub – continent via Sheikh baqui Billah through the capital city of New Delhi

24. Hadhrat Khwaja Baaqi Billaah r.a. (d. 25 Jumaad al-Aakhar, 1012AH) - Delhi (India)

25. Huzoor Imam Rabbani, Mujaddid Alf Thani, Hadhrat Shaykh Ahmad Farooqui Sirhandi r.a. (d. 28 Safar, 1034AH) - Sarhand (India) 26. Hadhrat Muhammad Ma’soom Farooqui r.a. (d. 9 Rabi al-Awwal, 1079AH) - Sirhand (India) 27. Hadhrat Sayfuddeen Bin Ma’soom Farooqui r.a. (d. 19 Jumad al-Oola, 10951096AH) - Sirhand (India) 28. Hadhrat Noor Muhammad Badyooni r.a. (d. 11 Dhul Qa’dah, 1135AH) - Dehli (India) 29. Hadhrat Mirza Mazhar Jaan-I-Jaanan r.a. (d. 10 Muharram, 1195AH) - Khanqah Mazharia Dehli (India) 30. Hadhrat Abdullah Shah Naimullah r.a. (d. 22 Safar, 1240AH) - Behraich U.P. (India) 31. Hadhrat Mawla’na Muradullah r.a. (d. Dhul Qa’dah, 1248AH) - Lakhnow U.P.(India) 32. Hadhrat Sayyed Abul Hasan Sa’eed r.a. (d. Sha'ba'n, 1272) - Rai Bareli U.P.(India) 33. Hadhrat Mawla’na Khalifa Ahmad Ali Khan r.a. left on 04.11.1904(AD) Kaimganj, Distt. Farrukhabad (Uttar Pradesh) 34. Hadhrat Mawla’na Shaah Fazl Ahmad Khan r.a. (1857-1907 A D) Qusba- Raipur Distt. Farrukhabad (Uttar Pradesh) 35. Hadhrat Mawla’na Abdul Ghani Khan r.a. (1867-1952 AD) Qusba- Bhogaon, Distt. Mainpuri (Uttar Pradesh)

From here the Hindu influence became predominant in the tariqat and Hadhrath Abdullah Shah Naimullah Shah Bahraichi had predicted the advent of Hindu Influence in the Tariqat.

36. Mahatma Ramchandra (Lalaji) Ji Maharaj (1873-1931 AD) r.a. Fatehgarh (Uttar Pradesh) India 37. Mahatma Raghubar Dayal (Chachchaji) Ji Maharaj (1875-1947 AD) r.a. Kanpur, Uttar Pradesh India 38. Mahatma Brij Mohan Lal (1898-1955 AD) r.a., Lucknow Uttar Pradesh, India 39. Mahatma Onkar Nath (1941-2008 AD) r.a. Fatehgarh, Uttar Pradesh,India

After Shah Bahauddin the tariqat got divided into many sub paths and each considers itself to be the authentic one. These evolved as many new streams arising from the main stream of Shah Bahauddin Naqshband r.a..

Hanuman Chalisa is the journey of transcendence of an aspirant as narrated by an intoxicated overflowing and enchanted Tulsi.

By Swami Anand Neelambar Available as e book From E book Mall.com Michigan Pages: 106

HANUMAN CHALISA – A MYSTICAL DIMENSION

‘H

anuman Chalisa is the journey of transcendence of an aspirant as narrated by an intoxicated, overflowing and enchanted Tulsi.’

Nearly five hundred years ago Saint Tulsi Das composed Hanuman Chalisa as an overflow of his devotion towards Sri Ram. Since then this composition has been inspiring aspirants, and singers worldwide wherever there a Hindu heart as a perennial source of inspiration and transformation. As long as mountains and rivers shall remain the portrayal of Sri Ram will continue to aspire and linger in the hearts of the aspirants like the dissolving notes of a sweet melody.

When Sri Ram was leaving his Leela or life on this earth and returning to His abode He had asked Hanuman to stay on this earth until the end of this creation and infuse the hearts of seekers with love for Sri Ram. Hanuman is that link between you and Sri Ram. Tulsi Das has captured these sentiments through this composition of Hanuman Chalisa.

‘And in this present work Swami Anand Neelambar has been able to revive the spirit of Tulsidas through his mystical insights.’ – TAOSHOBUDDHA ‘INDEED A PRECIOUS COLLECTION OF AN ASPIRING HEART ‘HANUMAN CHALISA – MYSTICAL DIMENSION’ by Swami Anand Neelambar - TAOSHOBUDDHA SWAMI ANAND NEELAMBAR SWAMI ANAND NEELAMBAR IS OFFICIALLY KNOWN AS SAMAROO ANAND AVATAR. HE COMES FROM A HUMBLE FAMILY OF INDENTURED LABORERS IN TRINIDAD, PEOPLE OF INDIAN ORIGIN WHO CAME TO THESE SHORES NEARLY 170 YEARS AGO. IN SPITE OF THE ODDITIES OF LIFE AND CONDITIONS HE MAINTAINED INNER VALUES AND ASPIRATIONS FROM THE CHILDHOOD. DURING HIS EARLY LIFE HE WAS INSPIRED BY HIS GRAND FATHER WHO WAS A HINDU PRIEST. HOWEVER HE WAS NOURISHED AND NURTURED BY THE ETERNAL MASTER INTUITIVELY LATER WHEN HE CAME IN

CONTACT WITH AN ENLIGHTENED SUFI MASTER TAOSHOBUDDHA THE MISSING DIMENSION IN HIS LIFE ATTAINED FULFILLMENT. SWAMI ANAND NEELAMBAR IS THE CHIEF EDITOR OF THE ‘MONTHLY E MAGAZINE’ ‘MEDITATION TIMES’. Meditation Times an E magazine that has assumed new heights of popularity worldwide. The magazine is viewed and downloaded in more than 70 countries worldwide in all the five continents. This is because of the efforts of Anand Neelambar.

HE IS CHIEF EDITOR AND SOUND ENGINEER OF ‘TAOSHOBUDDHA MEDITATIONS’. HE HAS COMPILED AND EDITED THE FOLLOWING WORKS MEDITATION THE WAY TO SELF REALIZATION; THE SECRETS OF BHAKTI MAN OF MANY TALENTS HE IS ‘IT EXPERT’ POET AND YET STILL DOWN TO EARTH. HIS UPCOMING WORKS ARE ‘LOTUS FROM THE MOON’ a collection of his poems which from time to time adorn the pages of Meditation times.

Anand Neelambar writes in Preface to the Book: Hanuman represents the sojourn from mortal consciousness into divine awakening. The Hanuman Chalisa is indeed a mystical treatise on the evolution from mind into no-mind. Hanuman Chalisa shows the way of transformation from ego centricity to becoming a nimitta – an instrument of divinity – thus falling within the cosmic law Tulsidas the composer of this soul stirrin g ‚ song in praise of Hanuman‛ reveals the inner mysteries for climbing the ladder of the chakras – the psycho spiritual centers to attain realization and transformation. As he was also transformed using the same method.

In the mystical dimension Hanuman is sometimes used to represent a seeker on the spiritual sojourn and at other times to represent the guru – enlightened master. This is very symbolic as at the final state of dissolution, the seeker is the master and the master is the seeker. Duality is no more.

The format of this work was inspired by the ‘Wine o f the Mystic’ by Paramahansa Yogananda. The subject matter was revealed through silent communion with the Master – Taoshobuddha.

I wish to offer my eternal salutations to Lord Hanumanji through whose grace this work became possible.

Swami Anand Neelambar Foreword By Taoshobuddha I take pleasure in inviting to the mystical realm of Bhakti through Tulsi and Hanuman. Last year when I began the work on ‘Meditation the way to Self Realization’ and ‘The Secrets of Bhakti as narrated by Sage Narad’, Swami Anand Neelambar asked me to write something on Hanuman Chalisa. I deferred the work until this year because of heavy schedules at hand. When I came back from India I told Swami Anand to undertake this work. He expressed doubts in his capabilities. I assured him to start the work everything will happen mystically. It is the trust in the words of the master that the work began and now the entire work is in your hand to kindle that spark of devotion within each one of you.

I have known Swami Anand for the last fifteen years when he was directed to me for his Interest in Sri Aurobindo and Yoga. The association began.

Every week he would visit my business place where along with worldly business I used to undertake the work of transformation of human consciousness. Each time he came with questions and thus began the process of inner transformation. Then one day when I asked him for the question he had none. Later one day he expressed the desire to be initiated. He got his initiation in the Naqshbandi Sufi order in the name of a Master Sufi Brij Mohan Lal. I gave him a new name Swami Anand Neelamber. It was a new beginning, a complete discontinuity with the past and the beginning of an inward journey. His new name meant one who is the master of bliss or anand which is divine in nature and vast like the blue sky. A new being entered him. He remained in my association both for worldly and the inner transformation. And this process still continues. He edited and compiled some of my talks and

compiled as ‘Meditation the way to self realization’. This drew hi m closer to the source.

The time has arrived.

The words of Hanuman Chalisa as you know, chant, sing, and recite as part of your daily worship and ritual are merely the container. The words are meaningless. It is the writer who arranges the words in a meter and gives the meaning. And the meaning comes from the being of the writer. Tulsi is a saint. He has attained to oneness with that which is. These words are no ordinary words of a simple composer. Therefore you cannot understand the essence of the message of Tulsi unless you attain to the level of consciousness of Tulsi. Hanuman Chalisa is the journey of transcendence of an aspirant as narrated by an intoxicated overflowing and enchanted Tulsi.

SWAMI ANAND NEELAMBAR is a beautiful being.

Out of his aspiration and dedication to inward journey and transformation he has been able to bring the essence of HANUMAN CHALISA and therefore the fragrance of Tulsi Das the original composer.

Now the seed has blossomed into a bud whose fragrance is in your hand as ‘Hanuman Chalisa a Mystical Dimension’. The mystical insights into the Sutras of Hanuman Chalisa, the arrangements of the chapters, life of Tulsi Das, and meeting of Tulsi with Hanuman, Hanuman Ramayana and the Rama Gita are the rare insights that come only through association with the one who not only knows but has experienced as well. Many go on reading and chanting the words like a parrot and are never transformed. Inner journey is an altogether different dimension.

The insights of Swami Anand are myriad. This book is just a drop in the ocean. As his insight gets deeper these will manifest through his forthcoming works! However for the moment drink the elixir that is in your hands now.

Only this much for now! Love! jy jy zr[m hnumt zr[m, TAOSHOBUDDHA

ibn Muhammad Abu al-Qasim al-Khazzaz Junaid al-Baghdadi (830-910 AD) (Persian: ‫ج ن ید‬ ‫ )ب غدادی‬was one of the great early Persian Muslim mystics, or Sufis, of Islam and is a central figure in the golden chain of many Sufi orders. He was born in Baghdad from Persian parents and according to Dehkhoda, his ancestors were from Nahavand.

From childhood Junaid was given to spiritual sorrow, and was an earnest seeker after God, well disciplined, thoughtful and quick of understanding and of a penetrating intuition.

One day he returned home from school to find his father in tears “What happened?” he enquired.

“I took something by way of alms to your uncle Sari,” his father told him. “He would not accept it.

I am weeping because I have given my whole life to save these five dirhams, and then this offering is not meet for one of the friends of God to receive.”

“Give me the money, and I will give it to him. That way he may take it,” said Junaid.

His father gave him the dirhams, and Junaid went off. Coming to his uncle’s house, on reaching he knocked at the door.

“Who is that?” came a voice.

“Junaid,” answered the boy. “Open the door and take this due offering of alms.”

“I will not take it,” cried Sari.

“I beg you to take it, by the God who has dealt so graciously with you and so justly with my father,” cried Junaid.

“Junaid, how did God deal graciously with me and justly with him?” demanded Sari.

“God was gracious to you,” Junaid replied, “in vouchsafing you poverty. To my father God was just in occupying him with worldly affairs. You are at liberty to accept or reject as you please. He whether he likes it or not, must convey the due alms on his possessions to the one deserving of it.”

This answer pleased Sari.

“Child, before I accept these alms, I have accepted you.”

So saying, Sari opened the door and took the alms. He assigned to Junaid a special place in his heart.

Junaid was only seven years old when Sari took him on the pilgrimage. In the Mosque of the Sanctuary the question of thankfulness was being discussed by four hundred Sheikhs. Each Sheikh expounded his own view.

“You also say something,” Sari prompted Junaid.

“Thankfulness,” said Junaid, “means that you should not disobey God by means of the favour which He has bestowed on you, nor make of His favour a source of disobedience.”

“Well said, O consolation of true believers,” cried the four hundred. They were unanimous that a better definition could not be devised.

“Boy,” said Sari, “it will soon come to pass that your special gift from God will be your tongue.”

Junaid wept when he heard his uncle say this.

“Where did you acquire this?” Sari demanded.

“From sitting with you,” Junaid replied.

Junaid then returned to Baghdad, and took up selling glasses. Every day he would go to the shop and draw down the blind and perform four hundred rak’as. After while he abandoned the shop and withdrew him to a room in the porch of Sari’s house, there he busied himself with the guardianship of his heart and lived. He unrolled the prayer rug of meticulous watchfulness that no thought of anything but God should pass through his mind.

Teachings Junaid’s contributions to Sufism are many fold.

His basic ideas deal with a progression that leads one to “annihilate” oneself (fana) so as to be in a closer union with the Divine. People need to “relinquish natural desires, to wipe out human attributes, to discard selfish motives, to cultivate spiritual qualities, to devote oneself to true knowledge, to do what is best in the context of eternity, to wish good for the entire community, to be truly faithful to God, and to follow the Prophet in the matters of the Sharia”.

This starts with the practice of renunciation (zuhd) and continues with withdrawal from society, intensive concentration on devotion (ibadat) & remembrance (dhikr) of God, sincerity (ikhlas), and contemplation (muraqaba) respectively; contemplation produces fana. This type of “semantic struggle “recreates the experience of trial (bala) that is key in Junaid’s writings. This enables people to enter into the state of fana.

Junaid divides up the state of fana into three parts: “1) the passing away from one’s attributes through the effort of constantly opposing one’s ego-self (nafs); 2) Passing away from one’s sense of accomplishment, that is, passing away from ‘one’s share of the sweet deserts and pleasures of obedience’; and 3) Passing away from the vision of the reality ‘of your ecstasies as the sign of the real overpowers you’”.

All of these stages help one to achieve fana. Once that has been attained, a person is in the state of remaining, or baqa. It is through the stage of baqa that one is able to find God – or rather, have God find him / her. Reaching baqa is not an easy thing to do though. Journey through the three stages requires strict discipline and patience. There is even debate amongst scholars as to whether or not the third stage is even possible to reach.

Junaid helped establish the “sober” school of Sufi thought, which meant that he was very logical and scholarly about his definitions of various virtues, Tawhid, etc.

Sufism is characterized by people who “experience fana [and] do not subsist in that state of selfless absorption in God but find themselves returned to their senses by God. Such returnees from the experience of selflessness are thus reconstituted as renewed selves,” just like an intoxicated person sobering up. For example, Junaid is quoted as saying, “The water takes on the color of the cup.”

While this might seem rather confusing at first, ‘Abd al-Hakeem Carney explains it best: “When the water is understood here to refer to the Light of Divine self-disclosure, we are led to the important concept of ‘capacity,’ whereby the Divine epiphany is received by the heart of any person according to that person’s particular receptive capacity and will be ‘colored’ by that person’s nature”. As one can see, such a simple phrase holds such deep meaning; as these brings the reader back to a deeper understanding of God through a more thoughtful metaphor.

S

ufi sheikhs are unique in their approach of transformation techniques. They have used parables and jokes as the device to dissolve ego and correct lower emotions. This is the work on jazb or lower emotion. These parables are based on the saying of the past sheikhs.

As an individual each one of you is caught in this quagmire and this impedes the inward journey. In this process first the sheikh works on lower emotions. While journeying through life without understanding each finite moment situations arise that freezes the emotions and thus the flow of love.

Heart becomes a barren land where nothing can grow. In that case the sheikh may use tears as the process of inner cleansing.

Tales of Mulla nasruddin are such tales, anecdotes and stories that connect to individual unconsciousness. In most of the cases people operate out of unconscious layer. Nasruddin’s new style is fresh and vibrant, says one movie critic, who heard Nasruddin chatting in the grocery checkout line. It is true that his new stories cut a wide swath through traditional spiritual tales of many faiths. Of course, no one knows what his old style was like; it is probable that the present behavior is a continuation of longstanding proclivities.

The Venerable Mulla, may he be prosperous all his days, was never one to hold back from saying the right thing, and he has not changed a bit.

One of his favorite stories, The Sweetest Strawberry the World Has Ever Known, is actually a Nasruddinized version of a beautiful Zen Buddhist tale. In Nasruddin’s hands it is filled with danger, humor, excitement, and absurdity. And the audience is not aware they have just imbibed subtle and valuable esoteric teachings!

Says the Zen monk credited with first telling the classic tale several hundred years ago, ‘We do not mind too much if Nasruddin tells it. As long as his heart is in the right place, we just wince and avert our eyes.’

The myth is that Nasruddin is a fool. The truth is that a fool can be wise at the same time.

In some cultural incarnations of Nasruddin, he is a pure and simple fool whose foolishness gives us something to laugh at, and seeing his folly, become wise by contrast.

Foolishness with a purpose: The fool slips by the mental defenses, and is poised to deliver the dagger blow of wisdom straight to the heart. Warlike phrases for the peace-loving Nasruddin, but his stories have such bite, such punch, they invite violent metaphor!

Take, for instance, the simple story of the Stupid Oaf. This seemingly simple, clever tale of turnabout in verbal sparring carries a hidden treasure: the demonstration that when we label others, we are really identifying ourselves.

Notice it was not a lesson. There was no lecture, no "You see boys and girls..." There was a demonstration of the fact that was itself the subject of the story. The ancient Sufis were skilled at this sort of hidden moral thrust; we might call them diabolically clever, except the result is so wholesome!

Who is Nasruddin?

Nasruddin is an old, old, old, old, much older than is practical to say, Persian storytelling character. He was the subject of many, many such clever tales as the Stupid Oaf for the education and instruction of the folk of the day. In The Way of the Sufi, the eminent Sufi and scholar Idrish Shah mentions that there is a Sufi community in what is now Pakistan in which Nasruddin stories are the only materials for teaching.

Idrish Shah says this about Nasruddin in his book The Sufis: The Nasruddin stories, known throughout the Middle East, constitute one of the strangest achievements in

the history of metaphysics. Superficially, most of the Nasruddin stories may be used as jokes. They are told and retold endlessly in the teahouses and caravanserais, in the homes and on the radio waves, of Asia. But it is inherent in the Nasruddin story that it may be understood at any of many depths. There is the joke, the moral - and the little extra which brings the consciousness of the potential mystic a little further on the way to realization.

Nasruddin has gathered stories from far and wide during his extensive travels. His voyages have taken him from Beijing to Boston, from Delhi to Delaware.

He cannot remember where he was born. It was so long ago, and he has been to so many places, that wherever he is he has a suspicion that it could be his true birthplace.

While Nasruddin Hodja has a designated birthplace and tomb in Turkey, Nasruddin does not claim any such limitations. He is a citizen of the world, and while true to his faith (he does not imbibe any spirituous liquors, for one thing, his spirits being high enough already), he is the very soul of tolerance and acceptance of all points of view.

Nasruddin tells tales of many faiths and cultures. It is in the Sufi tradition to use the materials at hand to fashion a new consciousness. Mulla Nasruddin has gathered Buddhist stories, stories from the early Christian Desert Fathers, stories from the Rabbi Wolf tradition of Jewish wisdom, traditional Persian Sufi tales (with a great debt to the Sufi teacher and collector of Nasruddin tales, Idries Shah), and stories from the spiritual traditions of India. Sometimes he even makes up his own. He has carefully placed these in his own spiritual blender, and set it to "puree." The result may not be recognizable as the original, but it contains all the spiritual vitamins and minerals in a highly digestible form.

Nasruddin’s stories have one thing in common: they make people laugh. Where does such humor come from? Analyses of humor are like dissections of animals: they tend to compromise the life force.

Humor is, of course, absurd contrast. That much is generally accepted! However, there is humor and humor. Slapstick humor, jokes, and funny stories are like checkers. There are defined rules, predictable forms, and accepted conventions (‘A guy walks into a bar’).

Nasruddin’s humor is more like chess. There are infinite varieties, and with a skillful enough strategy, there is no defense. Humor in Nasruddin’s stories has

spiritual fiber. It comes like a natural ingredient of everything, and keeps you regular through laughter.

Nasruddin's stories form a loose narrative, in roughly chronological, or at least causative, order. His sessions usually begin with an amusing anecdote or two, and launch into a sequence of tales whose subjects flow one from another.

In true Sufi fashion, Nasruddin aims to bring joy to all, regardless of age, who care to listen and watch. He bears no personal responsibility for wisdom gained or lessons learned. This disclaimer may be void in certain states. See your purveyor of wisdom for details.

The population of the US has become much more aware of the Islamic faith in recent years. Nasruddin feels it is his duty to encourage understanding and tolerance of all faiths, and to encourage and illustrate the journey toward spiritual awareness.

He is also a living example of peace of mind. Since Nasruddin firmly believes Allah will not send him more trials than he can bear, more bills than he can afford, or more joy than he can stand, he is not upset, no matter what disaster seems to befall him.

Many more people today follow a spiritual path, and even more have an interest in spiritual subjects. The self-help phenomenon has moved beyond psychology and into wider issues of connectedness and the awareness of spirit.

Nasruddin is launching a fund-raising campaign to build a ‘scholarship’ fund for those seeking performances. Nasruddin is quite satisfied that his agent, Richard Merrill, doesn’t intend to get rich quick on the back of Nasruddin’s good graces and popularity. It will probably take a long time.

To inquire about supporting this highly noble and self-sacrificing endeavor, the wonders of modern technology allow you to communicate magically.

Simply rub the lamp.

R

abindranath Tagore is the very heart of India.

He vibrates the hearts of each human being. He is the most contemporary man, and yet the most ancient too. He is the confluence of contemporary man and the ancient one as well. His words are a bridge between the modern mind and the ancient most sages of the world.

Rabindranath has more than 6000 compositions and each of these compositions echo the bliss as inner harmony. He was on his death bed and there were tears in his eyes. Someone said, ‘Kavindra you should be happy that you are leaving with so many compositions.

And each of your songs manifests inner beauty.’

Rabindranath responded, ‘All these days I have been tuning the orchestra and now that the orchestra is tuned it is the time to leave.’

Rabindranath Tagore was born in Calcutta, India into a wealthy Brahmin family. After a brief stay in England (1878) to attempt to study law, he returned to India, and instead pursued a career as a writer, playwright, songwriter, poet, philosopher and educator. During the first 51 years of his life he achieved some success in the Calcutta area of India where he was born and raised with his many stories, songs and plays. His short stories were published monthly in a friend’s magazine and he even played the lead role in a few of the public performances of his plays. Otherwise, he was little known outside of the Calcutta area, and not known at all outside of India.

This suddenly changed in 1912. He then returned to England for the first time since his failed attempt at law school as a teenager. Now a man of 51, his was accompanied by his son. On the way over to England he began translating, for the first time, his latest selections of poems, Gitanjali, into English. Almost all of his work prior to that time had been written in his native tongue of Bengali. He decided to do this just to have something to do, with no expectation at all that his first time translation efforts would be any good. He made the handwritten translations in a little notebook he carried around with him and worked on during the long sea voyage from India. Upon arrival, his son left his father’s brief case with this notebook in the London subway.

Fortunately, an honest person turned in the briefcase and it was recovered the next day. Tagore’s one friend in England, a famous artist he had met in India, Rothenstein, learned of the translation, and asked to see it. Reluctantly, with much persuasion, Tagore let him have the notebook. The painter could not believe

his eyes. The poems were incredible. He called his friend, W.B. Yeats, and finally talked Yeats into looking at the hand scrawled notebook.

The rest, as they say, is history. Yeats was enthralled.

He later wrote the introduction to Gitanjali when it was published in September 1912 in a limited edition by the India Society in London. Thereafter, both the poetry and the man were an instant sensation, first in London literary circles, and soon thereafter in the entire world.

His spiritual presence was awesome. His words evoked great beauty. Nobody had ever read anything like it. A glimpse of the mysticism and sentimental beauty of Indian culture were revealed to the West for the first time. Less than a year later, in 1913, Rabindranath received the Nobel Prize for literature. He was the first non-westerner to be so honored. Overnight he was famous and began world lecture tours promoting intercultural harmony and understanding. In 1915 he was knighted by the British King George V. When not traveling he remained at his family home outside of Calcutta, where he remained very active as a literary, spiritual and social-political force.

In 1919, following the Amritsar massacre of 400 Indian demonstrators by British troops, Sir Tagore renounced his Knighthood. Although, a good friend of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, most of the time Tagore stayed out of politics. He was opposed to nationalism and miltiarism as a matter of principle, and instead promoted spiritual values and the creation of a new world culture founded in multi-culturalism, diversity and tolerance. He served as a spiritual and creative beacon to his countrymen, and indeed, the whole world. He used the funds from his writing and lecturing to expand upon the school he had founded in 1901 now known as Visva Bharati. The alternative to the poor system of education imposed by the British combined the best of traditional Hindu education with Western ideals. Tagore’s multi-cultural educational efforts were an inspiration to many, including his friend, Count Hermann Keyserling of Estonia. Count Keyserling founded his own school in 1920 patterned upon Tagore’s school, and the ancient universities which existed in Northern India under Buddhist rule over 2,000 years ago under the name School of Wisdom.

Rabindranath Tagore led the opening program of the School of Wisdom in 1920, and participated in several of its programs thereafter.

Rabindranath Tagore’s creative output tells you a lot about this Renaissance man. The variety, quality and

quantity are unbelievable. As a writer, Tagore primarily worked in Bengali, but after his success with Gitanjali, he translated many of his other works into English. He wrote over one thousand poems; eight volumes of short stories; almost two dozen plays and play-lets; eight novels; and many books and essays on philosophy, religion, education and social topics. Aside from words and drama, his other great love was music, Bengali style. He composed more than two thousand songs, both the music and lyrics. Two of them became the national anthems of India and Bangladesh. In 1929 he even began painting. Many of his paintings can be found in museums today, especially in India, where he is considered the greatest literary figure of India of all times.

Tagore was not only a creative genius he was a great man and friend to many. For instance, he was also a good friend from childhood to the great Indian Physicist, Jagdish Chandra Bose. He was educated and

quite knowledgeable of Western culture, especially Western poetry and Science. This made him a remarkable person, one of the first of our planet to combine East and West, and ancient and modern knowledge. Tagore had a good grasp of modern - postNewtonian - physics, and was well able to hold his own in a debate with Einstein in 1930 on the newly emerging principles of quantum mechanics and chaos.

His meetings and tape recorded conversations with his contemporaries such Albert Einstein and H.G. Wells, stand as cultural landmarks, and show his brilliance.

Although Tagore is a superb representative of his country - India - the man who wrote its national anthem - his life and works go far beyond his country.

He is truly a man of the whole Earth, a product of the best of both traditional Indian, and modern Western cultures. The School of Wisdom is proud to have him as part of its heritage. He exemplifies the ideals important to us of Goodness, Meaningful Work, and World Culture.

Tagore and Einstein

Both Tagore and Einstein were contemporary. The two belonged to two diverse fields. Yet still it was the brilliance of the two did not create any problem in the dialogue. The following is the discussion between two great men. One can experience the profundity of communication between the two.

Rabindranath’s intelligence and creativity is the reflection of his inner development and outweighs that of any contemporary men even like Gandhi and others.

TAGORE: I was discussing with Dr. Mendel today the new mathematical discoveries which tell us that in the realm of infinitesimal atoms chance has its play; the

drama of existence is not absolutely predestined in character.

EINSTEIN: The facts that make science tend toward this view do not say good-bye to causality.

TAGORE: Maybe not, yet it appears that the idea of causality is not in the elements, but that some other force builds up with them an organized universe.

EINSTEIN: One tries to understand in the higher plane how the order is. The order is there, where the big elements combine and guide existence, but in the minute elements this order is not perceptible.

TAGORE: Thus duality is in the depths of existence, the contradiction of free impulse and the directive will which works upon it and evolves an orderly scheme of things.

EINSTEIN: Modern physics would not say they are contradictory. Clouds look as one from a distance, but if you see them nearby, they show themselves as disorderly drops of water.

TAGORE: I find a parallel in human psychology. Our passions and desires are unruly, but our character subdues these elements into a harmonious whole. Does something similar to this happen in the physical world?

Are the elements rebellious, dynamic with individual impulse? And is there a principle in the physical world which dominates them and puts them into an orderly organization?

EINSTEIN: Even the elements are not without statistical order; elements of radium will always maintain their specific order, now and ever onward, just as they have done all along. There is, then, a statistical order in the elements.

TAGORE: Otherwise, the drama of existence would be too desultory. It is the constant harmony of chance and determination which makes it eternally new and living.

EINSTEIN: I believe that whatever we do or live for has its causality; it is good, however, that we cannot see through to it.

TAGORE: There is in human affairs an element of elasticity also, some freedom within a small range which is for the expression of our personality. It is like the musical system in India, which is not so rigidly fixed as western music. Our composers give a certain definite outline, a system of melody and rhythmic arrangement, and within a certain limit the player can improvise upon it. He must be one with the law of that particular melody, and then he can give spontaneous expression to his musical feeling within the prescribed regulation.

We praise the composer for his genius in creating a foundation along with a superstructure of melodies, but we expect from the player his own skill in the creation of variations of melodic flourish and ornamentation. In creation we follow the central law of existence, but if we do not cut ourselves adrift from it, we can have sufficient freedom within the limits of our personality for the fullest self-expression.

EINSTEIN: That is possible only when there is a strong artistic tradition in music to guide the people’s mind. In Europe, music has come too far away from popular art

and popular feeling and has become something like a secret art with conventions and traditions of its own.

TAGORE: You have to be absolutely obedient to this too complicated music. In India, the measure of a singer’s freedom is in his own creative personality. He can sing the composer’s song as his own, if he has the power creatively to assert himself in his interpretation of the general law of the melody which he is given to interpret.

EINSTEIN: It requires a very high standard of art to realize fully the great idea in the original music, so that one can make variations upon it. In our country, the variations are often prescribed.

TAGORE: If in our conduct we can follow the law of goodness, we can have real liberty of self-expression.

The principle of conduct is there, but the character which makes it true and individual is our own creation.

In our music there is a duality of freedom and prescribed order.

EINSTEIN: Are the words of a song also free? I mean to say, is the singer at liberty to add his own words to the song which he is singing?

TAGORE: Yes. In Bengal we have a kind of song-kirtan, we call it-which gives freedom to the singer to introduce parenthetical comments, phrases not in the original song. This occasions great enthusiasm, since the audience is constantly thrilled by some beautiful, spontaneous sentiment added by the singer.

EINSTEIN: Is the metrical form quite severe?

TAGORE: Yes, quite. You cannot exceed the limits of versification; the singer in all his variations must keep the rhythm and the time, which is fixed. In European music you have a comparative liberty with time, but not with melody.

EINSTEIN: Can the Indian music be sung without words? Can one understand a song without words?

TAGORE: Yes, we have songs with unmeaning words, sounds which just help to act as carriers of the notes. In North India, music is an independent art, not the interpretation of words and thoughts, as in Bengal. The music is very intricate and subtle and is a complete world of melody by itself.

EINSTEIN: Is it not polyphonic?

TAGORE: Instruments are used, not for harmony, but for keeping time and adding to the volume and depth.

Has melody suffered in your music by the imposition of harmony?

consonance and dissonance is natural, or a convention which we accept.

EINSTEIN: Sometimes it does suffer very much.

Sometimes the harmony swallows up the melody altogether.

TAGORE: Somehow the piano confounds me. The violin pleases me much more.

TAGORE: Melody and harmony are like lines and colours in pictures. A simple linear picture may be completely beautiful; the introduction of colour may make it vague and insignificant. Yet colour may, by combination with lines, create great pictures, so long as it does not smother and destroy their value.

EINSTEIN: It is a beautiful comparison; line is also much older than colour. It seems that your melody is much richer in structure than ours. Japanese music also seems to be so.

TAGORE: It is difficult to analyze the effect of eastern and western music on our minds. I am deeply moved by the western music; I feel that it is great, that it is vast in its structure and grand in its composition. Our own music touches me more deeply by its fundamental lyrical appeal. European music is epic in character; it has a broad background and is Gothic in its structure.

EINSTEIN: This is a question we Europeans cannot properly answer we are so used to our own music. We want to know whether our own music is a conventional or a fundamental human feeling, whether to feel

EINSTEIN: It would be interesting to study the effects of European music on an Indian who had never heard it when he was young.

TAGORE: Once I asked an English musician to analyze for me some classical music, and explain to me what elements make for the beauty of the piece.

EINSTEIN: The difficulty is that the really good music, whether of the East or of the West, cannot be analyzed.

TAGORE: Yes, and what deeply affects the hearer is beyond himself.

EINSTEIN: The same uncertainty will always be there about everything fundamental in our experience, in our reaction to art, whether in Europe or in Asia. Even the red flower I see before me on your table may not be the same to you and me.

TAGORE: And yet there is always going on the process of reconciliation between them, the individual taste conforming to the universal standard.

Excerpted from: A Tagore Reader, edited by Amiya Chakravarty.

Tagore and HG Wells

Tagore and H.G. Wells met in Geneva in early June, 1930. Their conversation is reported here.

TAGORE: The tendency in modern civilization is to make the world uniform. Calcutta, Bombay, Hong Kong, and other cities are more or less alike, wearing big masks which represent no country in particular.

WELLS: Yet don’t you think that this very fact is an indication that we are reaching out for a new worldwide human order which refuses to be localized?

TAGORE: Our individual physiognomy need not be the same. Let the mind be universal. The individual should not be sacrificed.

WELLS: We are gradually thinking now of one human civilization on the foundation of which individualities will have great chance of fulfilment. The individual, as we take him, has suffered from the fact that civilization has been split up into separate units, instead of being merged into a universal whole, which seems to be the natural destiny of mankind.

TAGORE: May I add something? I have composed more than three hundred pieces of music. They are all sealed from the West because they cannot properly be given to you in your own notation. Perhaps they would not be intelligible to your people even if I could get them written down in European notation.

WELLS: The West may get used to your music.

TAGORE: I believe the unity of human civilization can be better maintained by linking up in fellowship and cooperation of the different civilizations of the world.

Do you think there is a tendency to have one common language for humanity?

WELLS: One common language will probably be forced upon mankind whether we like it or not. Previously, a community of fine minds created a new dialect. Now it is necessity that will compel us to adopt a universal language.

TAGORE: I quite agree. The time for five-mile dialects is fast vanishing. Rapid communication makes for a common language. Yet, this common language would probably not exclude national languages. There is again the curious fact that just now, along with the growing unities of the human mind, the development of national self-consciousness is leading to the formation or rather the revival of national languages everywhere. Don't you think that in America, in spite of constant touch between America and England, the English language is tending toward a definite modification and change?

WELLS: I wonder if that is the case now. Forty or fifty years ago this would have been the case, but now in literature and in common speech it becomes increasingly difficult to distinguish between English and American. There seems to be much more repercussion in the other direction. Today we are elaborating and perfecting physical methods of transmitting words. Translation is a bother. Take your poems - do they not lose much by that process? If you had a method of making them intelligible to all people at the same time, it would be really wonderful.

TAGORE: Music of different nations has a common psychological foundation, and yet that does not mean that national music should not exist. The same thing is, in my opinion, probably true for literature.

WELLS: Modern music is going from one country to another without loss - from Purcell to Bach, then Brahms, then Russian music, then oriental. Music is of all things in the world most international.

TAGORE: Certain forms of tunes and melodies which move us profoundly seem to baffle Western listeners; yet, as you say, perhaps closer acquaintance with them may gradually lead to their appreciation in the West.

WELLS: Artistic expression in the future will probably be quite different from what it is today; the medium will be the same and comprehensible to all. Take radio, which links together the world. And we cannot prevent further invention. Perhaps in the future, when the present clamor for national languages and dialects in broadcasting subsides, and new discoveries in science are made, we shall be conversing with one another through a common medium of speech yet undreamed of.

TAGORE: We have to create the new psychology needed for this age. We have to adjust ourselves to the new necessities and conditions of civilization.

WELLS: Adjustments, terrible adjustments!

TAGORE: Do you think there are any fundamental racial difficulties?

WELLS: No. New races are appearing and reappearing, perpetual fluctuations. There have been race mixtures from the earliest times; India is the supreme example of this. In Bengal, for instance, there has been an amazing mixture of races in spite of caste and other barriers.

TAGORE: Then there is the question of racial pride. Can the West fully acknowledge the East? If mutual acceptance is not possible, then I shall be very sorry for that country which rejects another's culture. Study can bring no harm, though men like Dr. Haas and Henri Matisse seem to think that the eastern mind should not go outside eastern countries, and then everything will be all right.

WELLS: I hope you disagree. So do I! TAGORE: It is regrettable that any race or nation should claim divine favouritism and assume inherent superiority to all others in the scheme of creation.

WELLS: The supremacy of the West is only a question of probably the past hundred years. Before the battle of Lepanto the Turks were dominating the West; the voyage of Columbus was undertaken to avoid the Turks. Elizabethan writers and even their successors were struck by the wealth and the high material standards of the East. The history of western ascendancy is very brief indeed.

WELLS: It is a very bad story indeed, because there have been such great opportunities for knowing each other.

TAGORE: Physical science of the nineteenth century probably has created this spirit of race superiority in the West. When the East assimilates this physical science, the tide may turn and take a normal course.

WELLS: I am also a member of a subject race. I am taxed enormously. I have to send my check - so much for military aviation, so much for the diplomatic machinery of the government! You see, we suffer from the same evils. In India, the tradition of officialdom is, of course, more unnatural and has been going on for a long time. The Moguls, before the English came, seem to have been as indiscriminate as our own people.

WELLS: Modern science is not exactly European. A series of accidents and peculiar circumstances prevented some of the eastern countries from applying the discoveries made by humanists in other parts of the world. They themselves had once originated and developed a great many of the sciences that were later taken up by the West and given greater perfection.

Today, Japanese, Chinese and Indian names in the world of science are gaining due recognition.

TAGORE: India has been in a bad situation.

WELLS: When Macaulay imposed a third-rate literature and a poor system of education on India, Indians naturally resented it. No human being can live on Scott's poetry. I believe that things are now changing.

But, remain assured, we English were not better off. We were no less badly educated than the average Indian, probably even worse.

TAGORE: Our difficulty is that our contact with the great civilizations of the West has not been a natural one. Japan has absorbed more of the western culture because she has been free to accept or reject according to her needs.

TAGORE: And then, the channels of education have become dry river beds, the current of our resources having been systematically been diverted along other directions.

TAGORE: And yet, there is a difference! The Mogul government was not scientifically efficient and mechanical to a degree. The Moguls wanted money, and so long as they could live in luxury they did not wish to interfere with the progressive village communities in India. The Muslim emperors did not dictate terms and force the hands of Indian educators and villagers. Now, for instance, the ancient educational systems of India are completely disorganized, and all indigenous educational effort has to depend on official recognition.

WELLS: ‘Recognition’ by the state, and good-bye to education!

TAGORE: I have often been asked what my plans are.

My reply is that I have no scheme. My country, like every other, will evolve its own constitution; it will pass through its experimental phase and settle down into something quite different from what you or I expect.

GITANJALI

Of all the works „GITANJALI‟ is his greatest contribution to human evolution, and human consciousness. It is one of the rarest books that have been composed in this century.

Its rarity is that it belongs to the days of the UPANISHADS – near about five thousand years before GITANJALI came into existence.

It is a miracle in the sense that Rabindranath is not a religious person in the ordinary sense. He is one of the most progressive thinkers who is both untraditional, and unorthodox. But his greatness lies in his childlike innocence. And because of that innocence, perhaps he was

able to become the vehicle of the universal spirit, in the same way as the UPANISHADS of the yore are.

He is a poet of the highest category, and also a mystic.

Such a combination has happened only once or twice before. In Kahlil Gibran, Friedrich Nietzsche, and Rabindranath Tagore both poet and the mystic is merged into one another. With these three persons, the whole category is finished. In the long history of man, it is extraordinary. There have been great poets and there have been great mystics. There have been great poets with a little mysticism in them, and there have been great mystics

who have expressed themselves in poetry but their poetry is not great. Rabindranath is in a strange situation.”

“Rabindranath never went to any temple, never worshiped any God, and was never, in a traditional way, a saint, but to me he is one of the greatest saints the world has known.

His saintliness is expressed in each of his words.”

“Rabindranath Tagore, although belongs to this century, yet he echoes thousands-of-years -old longings and dreams of the East. He belongs to the category of the seers of the

UPANISHADS. He is the only man this century has produced whose words can be compared to the fivethousand-year-old UPANISHADS. Those UPANISHADS were songs of the first seers of humanity, but it is a strange fact that truth remains the same. Everything changes, but the truth is eternal. Five thousand years of distance, but whatever Rabindranath sings, appears to be coming from the days of the UPANISHADS, of those days of humanity's childhood -so innocent and so pure.”

‘Song Offerings’ Translations made by the author from the original Bengali.

Mind Without Fear Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high; Where knowledge is free; Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls; Where words come out from the depth of truth; Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection; Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit; Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action--Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

Little Flute Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.

This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.

At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.

Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine.

Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.

Purity Life of my life, I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowing that thy living touch is upon all my limbs.

I shall ever try to keep all untruths out from my thoughts, knowing that thou art that truth which has kindled the light of reason in my mind.

I shall ever try to drive all evils away from my heart and keep my love in flower, knowing that thou hast thy seat in the inmost shrine of my heart.

And it shall be my endeavour to reveal thee in my actions, knowing it is thy power gives me strength to act.

Moment’s Indulgence I ask for a moment‟s indulgence to sit by thy side. The works that I have in hand I will finish afterwards.

Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite,

and my work becomes an endless toil in a shore less sea of toil.

Today the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove.

Now it is time to sit quite, face to face with thee, and to sing dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure.

Flower Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear lest it droop and drop into the dust.

I may not find a place in thy garland, but honour it with a touch of pain from thy hand and pluck it. I fear lest the day end before I am aware, and the time of offering go by.

Though its colour be not deep and its smell be faint, use this flower in thy service and pluck it while there is time.

Fool O Fool, try to carry thyself upon thy own shoulders!

O beggar, to come beg at thy own door!

Leave all thy burdens on his hands who can bear all, and never look behind in regret.

Thy desire at once puts out the light from the lamp it touches with its breath.

It is unholy---take not thy gifts through its unclean hands.

Accept only what is offered by sacred love.

Leave This Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads!

Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut?

Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee!

He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the pathmaker is breaking stones.

He is with them in sun and in shower, and his garment is covered with dust.

Put off thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil!

Deliverance?

Where is this deliverance to be found?

Our master himself has joyfully taken upon him the bonds of creation; he is bound with us all forever.

Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense!

What harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and stained?

Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow.

Journey Home The time that my journey takes is long and the way of it long.

I came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light, and pursued my voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet.

It is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself, and that training is the most intricate which leads to the utter simplicity of a tune.

The traveler has to knock at every alien door to come to his own, and one has to wander through all the outer worlds to reach the innermost shrine at the end.

My eyes strayed far and wide before I shut them and said `Here art thou!'

The question and the cry `Oh, where?' melt into tears of a thousand streams and deluge the world with the flood of the assurance `I am!'

Song Unsung The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day.

I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument.

The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart.

The blossom has not opened; only the wind is sighing by.

I have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice; only I have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house.

The livelong day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor; but the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house.

I live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not yet.

Strong Mercy My desires are many and my cry is pitiful, but ever didst thou save me by hard refusals; and this strong mercy has been wrought into my life through and through.

Day by day thou art making me worthy of the simple, great gifts that thou gavest to me unasked---this sky and the light, this body and the life and the mind---saving me from perils of overmuch desire.

There are times when I languidly linger and times when I awaken and hurry in search of my goal; but cruelly thou hidest thyself from before me.

Day by day thou art making me worthy of thy full acceptance by refusing me ever and anon, saving me from perils of weak, uncertain desire.

Patience If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it.

I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil and its head bent low with patience.

The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, and thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky.

Then thy words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests, and thy melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves.

Lotus On the day when the lotus bloomed, alas, my mind was straying, and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded.

Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind.

That vague sweetness made my heart ache with longing and it seemed to me that is was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion.

I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and that this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.

Boat I must launch out my boat.

The languid hours pass by on the shore---Alas for me!

The spring has done its flowering and taken leave.

And now with the burden of faded futile flowers I wait and linger.

The waves have become clamorous, and upon the bank in the shady lane the yellow leaves flutter and fall.

What emptiness do you gaze upon!

Do you not feel a thrill passing through the air with the notes of the far-away song floating from the other shore?

Friend Art thou abroad on this stormy night on thy journey of love, my friend?

The sky groans like one in despair.

I have no sleep tonight.

Ever and again I open my door and look out on the darkness, my friend!

I can see nothing before me.

I wonder where lies thy path!

By what dim shore of the ink-black river, by what far edge of the frowning forest, through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading thy course to come to me, my friend?

When Day Is Done If the day is done, if birds sing no more, if the wind has flagged tired, then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me, even as thou hast wrapt the earth with the coverlet of sleep and tenderly closed the petals of the drooping lotus at dusk.

From the traveler, whose sack of provisions is empty before the voyage is ended, whose garment is torn and dust-laden, whose strength is exhausted, remove shame and poverty, and renew his life like a flower under the cover of thy kindly night.

Sleep In the night of weariness let me give myself up to sleep without struggle, resting my trust upon thee.

Let me not force my flagging spirit into a poor preparation for thy worship.

It is thou who drawest the veil of night upon the tired eyes of the day to renew its sight in a fresher gladness of awakening.

Lamp of Love Light, oh where is the light?

Kindle it with the burning fire of desire!

There is the lamp but never a flicker of a flame---is such thy fate, my heart?

Ah, death were better by far for thee!

Misery knocks at thy door, and her message is that thy lord is wakeful, and he calls thee to the love-tryst through the darkness of night.

The sky is overcast with clouds and the rain is ceaseless.

I know not what this is that stirs in me---I know not its meaning.

A moment's flash of lightning drags down a deeper gloom on my sight, and my heart gropes for the path to where the music of the night calls me.

Light, oh where is the light!

Kindle it with the burning fire of desire!

It thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void.

The night is black as a black stone.

Let not the hours pass by in the dark.

Kindle the lamp of love with thy life.

Dungeon He whom I enclose with my name is weeping in this dungeon.

I am ever busy building this wall all around; and as this wall goes up into the sky day by day I lose sight of my true being in its dark shadow.

I take pride in this great wall, and I plaster it with dust and sand lest a least hole should be left in this name; and for all the care I take I lose sight of my true being.

Who is This?

I came out alone on my way to my tryst.

But who is this that follows me in the silent dark?

I move aside to avoid his presence but I escape him not.

He makes the dust rise from the earth with his swagger; he adds his loud voice to every word that I utter.

He is my own little self, my lord, he knows no shame; but I am ashamed to come to thy door in his company.

Prisoner `Prisoner, tell me, who was it that bound you?' `It was my master,' said the prisoner. `I thought I could outdo everybody in the world in wealth and power, and I amassed in my own treasure-house the money due to my king.

When sleep overcame me I lay upon the bed that was for my lord, and on waking up I found I was a prisoner in my own treasure-house.' `Prisoner, tell me, who was it that wrought this unbreakable chain?' `It was I,' said the prisoner, `who forged this chain very carefully.

I thought my invincible power would hold the world captive leaving me in a freedom undisturbed.

Thus night and day I worked at the chain with huge fires and cruel hard strokes.

When at last the work was done and the links were complete and unbreakable, I found that it held me in its grip.'

Free Love By all means they try to hold me secure who love me in this world.

But it is otherwise with thy love which is greater than theirs, and thou keepest me free.

Lest I forget them they never venture to leave me alone.

But day passes by after day and thou art not seen.

If I call not thee in my prayers, if I keep not thee in my heart, thy love for me still waits for my love.

Little of Me Let only that little be left of me whereby I may name thee my all.

Let only that little be left of my will

whereby I may feel thee on every side, and come to thee in everything, and offer to thee my love every moment.

Let only that little be left of me whereby I may never hide thee.

Let only that little of my fetters be left whereby I am bound with thy will, and thy purpose is carried out in my life---and that is the fetter of thy love.

Give Me Strength This is my prayer to thee, my lord---strike, strike at the root of penury in my heart.

Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows.

Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service.

Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before insolent might.

Give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles.

And give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love.

Closed Path I thought that my voyage had come to its end at the last limit of my power,---that the path before me was closed, that provisions were exhausted and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.

But I find that thy will knows no end in me.

And when old words die out on the tongue, new melodies break forth from the heart; and where the old tracks are lost, new country is revealed with its wonders.

Only Thee That I want thee, only thee---let my heart repeat without end.

All desires that distract me, day and night, are false and empty to the core.

As the night keeps hidden in its gloom the petition for light, even thus in the depth of my unconsciousness rings the cry ---`I want thee, only thee'.

As the storm still seeks its end in peace when it strikes against peace with all its might, even thus my rebellion strikes against thy love and still its cry is ---`I want thee, only thee'.

Beggarly Heart When the heart is hard and parched up, come upon me with a shower of mercy.

When grace is lost from life, come with a burst of song.

When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest.

When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner, break open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king.

When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, O thou holy one, thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder.

Sail Away Early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat, only thou and I, and never a soul in the world would know of this our pilgrimage to no country and to no end.

In that shoreless ocean, at thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies, free as waves, free from all bondage of words.

Is the time not come yet?

Are there works still to do?

Lo, the evening has come down upon the shore and in the fading light the seabirds come flying to their nests.

Who knows when the chains will be off, and the boat, like the last glimmer of sunset, vanish into the night?

Signet of Eternity The day was when I did not keep myself in readiness for thee; and entering my heart unbidden even as one of the common crowd, unknown to me, my king, thou didst press the signet of eternity upon many a fleeting moment of my life.

And today when by chance I light upon them and see thy signature, I find they have lain scattered in the dust mixed with the memory of joys and sorrows of my trivial days forgotten.

Thou didst not turn in contempt from my childish play among dust, and the steps that I heard in my playroom are the same that are echoing from star to star.

Where Shadow Chases Light This is my delight, thus to wait and watch at the wayside where shadow chases light and the rain comes in the wake of the summer.

Messengers, with tidings from unknown skies, greet me and speed along the road.

My heart is glad within, and the breath of the passing breeze is sweet.

From dawn till dusk I sit here before my door, and I know that of a sudden the happy moment will arrive when I shall see.

In the meanwhile I smile and I sing all alone.

In the meanwhile the air is filling with the perfume of promise.

Silent Steps Have you not heard his silent steps?

He comes, comes, ever comes.

Every moment and every age, every day and every night he comes, comes, ever comes.

Many a song have I sung in many a mood of mind, but all their notes have always proclaimed, `He comes, comes, ever comes.'

In the fragrant days of sunny April through the forest path he comes,

comes, ever comes.

In the rainy gloom of July nights on the thundering chariot of clouds he comes, comes, ever comes.

In sorrow after sorrow it is his steps that press upon my heart, and it is the golden touch of his feet that makes my joy to shine.

Distant Time I know not from what distant time thou art ever coming nearer to meet me.

Thy sun and stars can never keep thee hidden from me for aye.

In many a morning and eve thy footsteps have been heard and thy messenger has come within my heart and called me in secret.

I know not only why today my life is all astir, and a feeling of tremulous joy is passing through my heart.

It is as if the time were come to wind up my work, and I feel in the air a faint smell of thy sweet presence.

The Journey The morning sea of silence broke into ripples of bird songs; and the flowers were all merry by the roadside; and the wealth of gold was scattered through the rift of the clouds while we busily went on our way and paid no heed.

We sang no glad songs nor played; we went not to the village for barter; we spoke not a word nor smiled; we lingered not on the way.

We quickened our pace more and more as the time sped by.

The sun rose to the mid sky and doves cooed in the shade.

Withered leaves danced and whirled in the hot air of noon.

The shepherd boy drowsed and dreamed in the shadow of the banyan tree, and I laid myself down by the water and stretched my tired limbs on the grass.

My companions laughed at me in scorn; they held their heads high and hurried on; they never looked back nor rested; they vanished in the distant blue haze.

They crossed many meadows and hills, and passed through strange, far-away countries.

All honor to you, heroic host of the interminable path!

Mockery and reproach pricked me to rise, but found no response in me.

I gave myself up for lost in the depth of a glad humiliation ---in the shadow of a dim delight.

The repose of the sun-embroidered green gloom slowly spread over my heart.

I forgot for what I had traveled, and I surrendered my mind without struggle to the maze of shadows and songs.

At last, when I woke from my slumber and opened my eyes, I saw thee standing by me, flooding my sleep with thy smile.

How I had feared that the path was long and wearisome, and the struggle to reach thee was hard!

Light

Light, my light, the world-filling light, the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light!

Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the center of my life; the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth.

The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light.

Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light.

The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling, and it scatters gems in profusion.

Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure.

The heaven's river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad.

Passing Breeze Yes, I know, this is nothing but thy love, O beloved of my heart---this golden light that dances upon the leaves, these idle clouds sailing across the sky, this passing breeze leaving its coolness upon my forehead.

The morning light has flooded my eyes---this is thy message to my heart.

Thy face is bent from above, thy eyes look down on my eyes, and my heart has touched thy feet.

Seashore On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.

The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous.

On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances.

They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells.

With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep.

Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.

They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets.

Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again.

They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.

The sea surges up with laughter and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.

Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle.

The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.

Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships get wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play.

On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.

Coloured Toys When I bring to you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water,

and why flowers are painted in tints ---when I give coloured toys to you, my child.

When I sing to make you dance I truly now why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth ---when I sing to make you dance.

When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands I know why there is honey in the cup of the flowers and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice ---when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands.

When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling, I surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light, and what delight that is that is which the summer breeze brings to my body ---when I kiss you to make you smile.

Old and New Thou hast made me known to friends whom I knew not.

Thou hast given me seats in homes not my own.

Thou hast brought the distant near and made a brother of the stranger.

I am uneasy at heart when I have to leave my accustomed shelter; I forget that there abides the old in the new, and that there also thou abidest.

Through birth and death, in this world or in others, wherever thou leadest me it is thou, the same, the one companion of my endless life who ever linkest my heart with bonds of joy to the unfamiliar.

When one knows thee, then alien there is none, then no door is shut.

Oh, grant me my prayer that I may never lose the bliss of the touch of the one in the play of many.

She She who ever had remained in the depth of my being, in the twilight of gleams and of glimpses; she who never opened her veils in the morning light, will be my last gift to thee, my God, folded in my final song.

Words have wooed yet failed to win her; persuasion has stretched to her its eager arms in vain.

I have roamed from country to country keeping her in the core of my heart, and around her have risen and fallen the growth and decay of my life.

Over my thoughts and actions, my slumbers and dreams, she reigned yet dwelled alone and apart.

Many a man knocked at my door and asked for her and turned away in despair.

There was none in the world who ever saw her face to face, and she remained in her loneliness waiting for thy recognition.

Stream of Life The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.

And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.

Maya That I should make much of myself and turn it on all sides, thus casting colored shadows on thy radiance ---such is thy Maya.

Thou settest a barrier in thine own being and then callest thy severed self in myriad notes.

This thy self-separation has taken body in me.

The poignant song is echoed through all the sky in many-coloued tears and smiles, alarms and hopes; waves rise up and sink again, dreams break and form.

In me is thy own defeat of self.

This screen that thou hast raised is painted with innumerable figures with the brush of the night and the day.

Behind it thy seat is woven in wondrous mysteries of curves, casting away all barren lines of straightness.

The great pageant of thee and me has overspread the sky.

With the tune of thee and me all the air is vibrant, and all ages pass with the hiding and seeking of thee and me.

Innermost One He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches.

He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain.

He it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds his feet, at whose touch I forget myself.

Days come and ages pass, and it is ever he who moves my heart in many a name, in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of sorrow.

Senses Deliverance is not for me in renunciation.

I feel the embrace of freedom in a thousand bonds of delight.

Thou ever pourest for me the fresh draught of thy wine of various colours and fragrance, filling this earthen vessel to the brim.

My world will light its hundred different lamps with thy flame and place them before the altar of thy temple.

No, I will never shut the doors of my senses.

The delights of sight and hearing and touch will bear thy delight.

Yes, all my illusions will burn into illumination of joy, and all my desires ripen into fruits of love.

Face to Face Day after day, O lord of my life, shall I stand before thee face to face.

With folded hands, O lord of all worlds, shall I stand before thee face to face.

Under thy great sky in solitude and silence, with humble heart shall I stand before thee face to face.

In this laborious world of thine, tumultuous with toil and with struggle, among hurrying crowds shall I stand before thee face to face.

And when my work shall be done in this world, O King of kings, alone and speechless shall I stand before thee face to face.

Lost Star When the creation was new and all the stars shone in their first splendor, the gods held their assembly in the sky and sang `Oh, the picture of perfection! the joy unalloyed!'

But one cried of a sudden ---`It seems that somewhere there is a break in the chain of light and one of the stars has been lost.'

The golden string of their harp snapped, their song stopped, and they cried in dismay ---`Yes, that lost star was the best, she was the glory of all heavens!'

From that day the search is unceasing for her, and the cry goes on from one to the other that in her the world has lost its one joy!

Only in the deepest silence of night the stars smile and whisper among themselves ---`Vain is this seeking! unbroken perfection is over all!'

Let Me Not Forget If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight ---let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.

As my days pass in the crowded market of this world and my hands grow full with the daily profits, let me ever feel that I have gained nothing ---let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.

When I sit by the roadside, tired and panting, when I spread my bed low in the dust, let me ever feel that the long journey is still before me ---let me not forget a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.

When my rooms have been decked out and the flutes sound and the laughter there is loud, let me ever feel that I have not invited thee to my house ---let me not forget for a moment, let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams and in my wakeful hours.

Roaming Cloud I am like a remnant of a cloud of autumn uselessly roaming in the sky, O my sun ever-glorious!

Thy touch has not yet melted my vapour, making me one with thy light, and thus I count months and years separated from thee.

If this be thy wish and if this be thy play, then take this fleeting emptiness of mine, paint it with colours, gild it with gold, float it on the wanton wind and spread it in varied wonders.

And again when it shall be thy wish to end this play at night, I shall melt and vanish away in the dark, or it may be in a smile of the white morning, in a coolness of purity transparent.

Lost Time On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time.

But it is never lost, my lord.

Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands.

Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.

I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased.

In the morning I woke up and found my garden full with wonders of flowers.

Endless Time Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.

There is none to count thy minutes.

Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.

Thou knowest how to wait.

Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.

We have no time to lose, and having no time we must scramble for a chance.

We are too poor to be late.

And thus it is that time goes by while I give it to every querulous man who claims it, and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.

At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut; but I find that yet there is time.

Chain of Pearls Mother, I shall weave a chain of pearls for thy neck with my tears of sorrow.

The stars have wrought their anklets of light to deck thy feet, but mine will hang upon thy breast.

Wealth and fame come from thee and it is for thee to give or to withhold them.

But this my sorrow is absolutely mine own, and when I bring it to thee as my offering thou rewardest me with thy grace.

Brink of Eternity In desperate hope I go and search for her in all the corners of my room; I find her not.

My house is small

and what once has gone from it can never be regained.

But infinite is thy mansion, my lord, and seeking her I have to come to thy door.

I stand under the golden canopy of thine evening sky and I lift my eager eyes to thy face.

I have come to the brink of eternity from which nothing can vanish ---no hope, no happiness, no vision of a face seen through tears.

Oh, dip my emptied life into that ocean, plunge it into the deepest fullness.

Let me for once feel that lost sweet touch in the allness of the universe.

Untimely Leave No more noisy, loud words from me---such is my master's will.

Henceforth I deal in whispers.

The speech of my heart will be carried on in murmurings of a song.

Men hasten to the King's market. All the buyers and sellers are there.

But I have my untimely leave in the middle of the day, in the thick of work.

Let then the flowers come out in my garden, though it is not their time; and let the midday bees strike up their lazy hum.

Full many an hour have I spent in the strife of the good and the evil, but now it is the pleasure of my playmate of the empty days to draw my heart on to him; and I know not why is this sudden call to what useless inconsequence!

Death O thou the last fulfilment of life, Death, my death, come and whisper to me!

Day after day I have kept watch for thee; for thee have I borne the joys and pangs of life.

All that I am, that I have, that I hope and all my love have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy.

One final glance from thine eyes and my life will be ever thine own.

The flowers have been woven and the garland is ready for the bridegroom.

After the wedding the bride shall leave her home and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night.

Last Curtain I know that the day will come when my sight of this earth shall be lost, and life will take its leave in silence, drawing the last curtain over my eyes.

Yet stars will watch at night, and morning rise as before, and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains.

When I think of this end of my moments, the barrier of the moments breaks and I see by the light of death thy world with its careless treasures.

Rare is its lowliest seat, rare is its meanest of lives.

Things that I longed for in vain and things that I got ---let them pass.

Let me but truly possess the things that I ever spurned and overlooked.

Farewell I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers!

I bow to you all and take my departure.

Here I give back the keys of my door ---and I give up all claims to my house.

I only ask for last kind words from you.

We were neighbors for long, but I received more than I could give.

Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out.

A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.

Threshold I was not aware of the moment when I first crossed the threshold of this life.

What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery like a bud in the forest at midnight!

When in the morning I looked upon the light I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world, that the inscrutable without name and form had taken me in its arms in the form of my own mother.

Even so, in death the same unknown will appear as ever known to me.

And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well.

The child cries out when from the right breast the mother takes it away, in the very next moment to find in the left one its consolation.

Parting Words When I go from hence let this be my parting word, that what I have seen is unsurpassable.

I have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus that expands on the ocean of light, and thus am I blessed ---let this be my parting word.

In this playhouse of infinite forms I have had my play and here have I caught sight of him that is formless.

My whole body and my limbs have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch; and if the end comes here, let it come ---let this be my parting word.

Still Heart When I give up the helm I know that the time has come for thee to take it.

What there is to do will be instantly done.

Vain is this struggle.

Then take away your hands and silently put up with your defeat, my heart, and think it your good fortune to sit perfectly still where you are placed.

These my lamps are blown out at every little puff of wind, and trying to light them I forget all else again and again.

But I shall be wise this time and wait in the dark, spreading my mat on the floor; and whenever it is thy pleasure, my lord, come silently and take thy seat here.

Ocean of Forms I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms, hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless.

No more sailing from harbor to harbor with this my weather-beaten boat.

The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves.

And now I am eager to die into the deathless.

Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss where swells up the music of toneless strings I shall take this harp of my life.

I shall tune it to the notes of forever, and when it has sobbed out its last utterance, lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent.

Sit Smiling I boasted among men that I had known you.

They see your pictures in all works of mine.

They come and ask me, `Who is he?'

I know not how to answer them. I say, `Indeed, I cannot tell.'

They blame me and they go away in scorn.

And you sit there smiling.

I put my tales of you into lasting songs.

The secret gushes out from my heart.

They come and ask me, `Tell me all your meanings.'

I know not how to answer them.

I say, `Ah, who knows what they mean!'

They smile and go away in utter scorn.

And you sit there smiling.

Salutation In one salutation to thee, my God, let all my senses spread out and touch this world at thy feet.

Like a rain-cloud of July hung low with its burden of unshed showers let all my mind bend down at thy door in one salutation to thee.

Let all my songs gather together their diverse strains into a single current and flow to a sea of silence in one salutation to thee.

Like a flock of homesick cranes flying night and day back to their mountain nests let all my life take its voyage to its eternal home in one salutation to thee.

Songs of Nanak By Taoshobuddha

Published as E Book by E Book Mall.Com, Michigan Year of Publication: 2009 Pages: 106

Jap Ji is the poetry of the soul’s journey and the Mool Mantra is the epitome!

N

anak is unique. And he is unique in many ways. Nanak happened before Tulsi Daas.

Social values were declining. Politically that was the beginning of a new era. The message of the masters was losing its inner fabric. Nanak’s role was to resurrect all these. Nanak came like a fresh breeze.

Look at the earlier scriptures. Valmiki used one meter throughout the entire narration. The meter happened to him during his one early morning bath in river Tamsa. There he saw basic act that we go on overlooking in our day to day life. He saw a pair of birds making love. At one plane this seems an ordinary act for pleasure for man and progeny for the other creatures. What actually happens during this act has lost its meaning. This is the communion or the confluence of two energies. One is young virgin or the feminine energy as symbolized through the female body. The young virgin symbolizes the undeveloped or underdeveloped consciousness. Or the sub consciousness where the entire growth pattern of human consciousness is in code form. Hindus call this energy field as ‘Prakriti’. And the male energy that Hindus call as ‘Purush’ is symbolized as male or soul. Transformation cannot happen until this union between the souls and the undeveloped virgin takes place.

These two male and female principles exist in each individual. With the passage of time a discontinuity came in this understanding. Leaving this here right now I move to the other aspect where I was speaking of the structure of various scriptures and there relevance with the message. Valmiki used one meter with eight quadrants which emerged during his morning bath spontaneously.

So too Bhagwad Gita also uses one meter and each composition is of four quadrants and two lines each this is the meter used throughout the text. All this describes one set pattern. Bhagwad Gita is the path of Yoga although different paths of Yoga are explained. And Ramayana is the story of Rama on the platter of Bhakti.

Nanak has used different meter in each Pauri. The Japji Sahib does not follow any strict meter of poetry and even the rhyming seems, at places, uneven and incoherent. Besides, sometimes the

basic line of thought appears to be intruded upon by verses in between, particularly if one relies solely upon translations and word meanings.

This explains that through each Pauri Nanak goes into in depth message of different systems of transformation used by the masters and paths. For instance in Pauri 27 Nanak explains the role of music, and existential sound as the system of transformation. And in the next Pauri 28 and 29 Nanak completely reviews the path of Tantra.

If I go on speaking like this for each Pauri I will never finish the preface. That is a fact one can spend the entire life explaining Japji still something remains unfinished.

Anyone with linear consciousness or one track mind and understanding cannot understand Nanak. Only a master whose consciousness has reached its pinnacle! Or has merged with the ultimate can explain various systems of transformation of human consciousness as interwoven through various Pauris of Japji.

This present work is such an effort of Taoshobuddha. Beyond dualities, conditionings, and your beliefs lays the realm of Buddhas. Nanak is a Buddha - one who has not only attained to this Oneness with that which is, instead has harnessed this energy field for the transformation of human consciousness. Japji is the expression of Truth as envisaged by Nanak. Japji occupies a foremost place in Sikh religion. The entire Sikh religion revolves around Japji and Nanak. Both Nanak and Japji are inseparable. Both are the two sides of the same coin. Japji is the fragrance of Nanak. @k bar jae tUne pukara wa muHe tajISt mere mn bjtI rhI zhna$, taAbd mere mn me bjtI rhI zhna$.

AaEr hm fUb ke tU)anae me th la@ smuNdr kI.

EK BAR JO TOONE PURARA THA MUJHE TAZEEST MERE MN ME BAJTI RAHI SHAHNAI TAABAD MERE MN ME BAJTI RAHI SAHNAI AUR HAM DOOB KE TOOFANO ME TAH LAYE SAMUNDER KI!

Once you had called me so lovingly Erelong its music echoes in my ears Like the dissolving notes of a sweet melody!

And I dived deep within the ocean to bring forth the inner treasures from the realm of the Being!

Today I invite you to this mystical realm and the energy field of Nanak through Japji. Japji is my being, my life my living. The words of Nanak resonate in my mind. And this work on Japji is the echo of that resonance that continues to linger in my being like the dissolving notes of an enchanting melody.

Allow a few drops of this nectar to ooze into your being. Allow this fragrance to sanctify and waft an aura of bliss in your inner being. Life will attain a new meaning.

Words are failing to express the ecstasy of my being. The orchestra is mute yet still melody overflows. I can speak no more for now. Now only the overflow is there. Drink it to your heart’s content.

Like a mad, intoxicated one, Nanak goes on speaking in His praise. These are not the words of a learned one. These are the words of someone who has drunk the mystical wine of Saqui (God).

Like a drunkard he goes on repeating the same thing again and again. These words are the outcome of ecstasy. If you can understand the situation of a drunkard you will understand the words of Nanak. The only difference between an ordinary drunkard and Nanak is that Nanak drank the pristine mystical wine to his heart’s content.

And now he is drowned in the ocean of oneness with God. This is the beauty of Nanak. Nanak is the poet of the inner. Japji is the poetry of the soul’s journey as narrated by a drunkard.

Birth of Japji Sahib: The first experience of Samadhi or Satori Nanak had when he was sixteen or seventeen years of age. He was working for a grocer.

Nanak went missing for three days. Legend says that he was believed to have drowned after going for a regular morning bath in a stream called

Humber Bain. After the three days, he reappeared, and when anyone asked him a question he uttered the same response in his native Punjabi tongue: There is no Hindu; there is no Muslim. From this moment, he began to spread the teachings of Sikhism.

While bathing in the river Bain, Nanak had a spiritual experience, which he described as a message from God. After three days of visions, he re-emerged, and Japji was his message. Then Nanak was thirty six years six month and fifteen days old. Nanak gave away all of his possessions, and became a wandering preacher. He took his message, throughout India and the Middle East, meeting with Hindu and Muslim religious leaders.

His message of fraternity and universalism was well received, and his following grew rapidly.

He eventually settled in Kartarpur, where he and his devotees practiced a daily routine of bathing, prayer, and communal meals. Among these was Angad, who succeeded him as the second Sikh Guru, in a line of succession that continued until 1708, ending with Guru Gobind Singh the tenth guru.

Nanak's teachings were recorded in the Adi Granth, which formed the basis of Sikh theology.

Among the teachings, a unique synthesis of Hindu and Muslim theology is observed. Nanak stressed that Caste was irrelevant, that only inner purity mattered. He admonished practitioners of idol worship and encouraged charity. One of his most influential teachings was the admonishment to his followers to oppose tyranny and oppression.

The Adi Granth, a Sikh Holy Book, transcribed by Nanak's disciple Bhai Gurdas, contains nearly one thousand hymns, many of which are sung daily during worship. It is written mainly in Punjabi, a language not considered acceptable by the religious elite of the time, an intentional move by Nanak to underscore his insistence that God favors no caste.

Many contend that Nanak was influenced by the sannyasin and Hindu religious thought. But one look at the life of Nanak makes it obvious that he lived amongst Muslims, was employed by a Muslim, visited and prayed at Muslim shrines

sometimes spending as long as forty days in contemplation (culminating in his visit to Mecca) and that his religious thoughts were deeply influenced by the Islamic teachings. A reading of the Janam Sakhis also makes it clear that Nanak spent more time with the Sheikhs and Sufi Masters of his time and his teachings and practices were nearer to the Islamic faith.

It was a period of comparative peace and security under the reign of Sultan Bahlol Lodhi (1451-89) and the formative years of Nanak coincided with the period of Lodhi ascendancy under Bahlol and his son Sikandar. It seems that Nanak was born into a favored period of peace, law and order and economic prosperity. He grew up in his father's village. At some time in his early manhood he moved to Sultanpur where he worked in the employment of Daulat Khan Lodhi, Governor of Punjab. From Sultanpur he began a period of travels to places such as Mount Sumeru, Mecca, Medina, Baghdad and Bokhara at the shrine of Naqshbandi master Naqshband Bahauddin.

In India he visited Sheikh Sharaf at Panipat, Delhi (Sultan Ibrahim Lodhi), Pak Pattan (Sheikh Farid Ibrahim), Saidpur (Babur) and Pir Bahauddin of Multan besides other places in Ceylon, Kashmir and the south of India. On his journeys he was usually accompanied by his close companions variously named as Mardana, Saido, Gheho, Hasu Lohar and Sihan Chhimba.

The word GURU needs some explanation. It has two components, GU meaning one who dispels ignorance and darkness, and RU meaning one who brings enlightenment. When one reads the Janam Sakhis of Guru Nanak, it is possible to argue that Guru Nanak was a reformer speaking and acting against the caste system and trying to improve the status of women. Equally one can say that he was a religious synthesizer who attempted a blend of Hinduism and Islam in his own way. Beyond superstitions Nanak was a defender of pure religion. A more satisfactory evaluation of Guru Nanak is as a mystic and a Sufi who had realized the ultimate Unity in existence, and one who always spoke of God as 'The One without a second'.

DEATH: On 22 September 1539, at age 69, Nanak met with his demise, after he had requested his disciples to sing the Sohila (hymn in the praise of God).

When Nanak left this finite world the words that were on his lips are very precious. Nanak said flowers have blossomed. Spring has come. Birds on the trees are filling the aura with an eternal song.

The entire existence echoes with the existential sound. And thus vibrates the inner strings.

What is that Nanak is talking about? People around Nanak thought Nanak is remembering his village where he was born. And that was the spring season. Nanak is speaking of that alone. All the people who wrote on Nanak are mistaken on this account. This I am saying to you, at the time of his dissolution with the whole Nanak is not remembering his village. The narration of Nanak has nothing to do with the spring season or the village. Nanak is no more with the past. Really indeed it was spring season. Certainly new petals and flowers would have blossomed in the village. It is just a coincidence. Certainly at such an occasion Nanak is not remembering his birth. He has to use the symbols from your world. This is symbolic Nanak is now entering the ultimate beauty where flowers blossom never to wither! Where birds chirp the perennial song from eternity’s sphere!

And touched by the warning fingers of swift love where eternity thrills again to an immortal joy.

When an individual lives life meditatively, then death is not the end. Instead it is fulfilment. Then death is not end. Instead it is the ultimate flowering. Death is the ultimate experience of life.

Such a person does not lose anything. Death is not loss. It is a gain. Door closes from one side. And the door from the other side opens into infinite possibilities. Singing, dancing and rejoicing he enters death. As you are so will be your experience of life. Death is therefore the test of his life and living and also his awareness. If a person enters death joyful, peaceful full of gratitude then the life was precious. Then death is the final offering in the Yagna. Then the mystic echoes:

This is Total! That is total! Totality alone is! Out of this Totality evolves the entire existence! And to this ultimate Totality everything dissolves one day!

It is said some of his followers wanted to cremate him, while others wanted to bury him. When they lifted the sheet from the body, they found flowers, some of which they cremated, and other were buried. Although not known for being a feminist, he is wide known for promoting human equality and helped thousands.

Teachings of Nanak: The main teachings of Nanak included faith in one true God, worship and recital of his name and the necessity of Guru in pursuing the path to God. God, according to him, is imminent and transcendent.

Nobody knows the limits of God. God alone knows how great he is. Nanak compares God to the beloved and says God is in the heart of every individual. Nanak had belief in a personal and merciful god. Nanak denounced the worship of idols. He put emphasis on the worship of true name. Nanak endeavored to remove the cloud of ignorance and superstitions from the minds of people. He emphasized: 1. Naam Japan: Chanting the Holy Name and thus remembering God at all times (often meditation).

2. Kirat Karō: Earning livelihood.

3. Vaṇḍ Chakkō: Sharing with others. These were some of basic teachings of Nanak Nanak placed great emphasis on the worship of True Name. Repetition of the True Name ‘Satnam Vāhigurū’ was to be done with greatest devotion.

Nanak says ‘The name is the God, the God of all Gods. Some propitiate Durga, some Shiva, some Ganesh and some other Gods but the Guru's Sikhs worship the True Name and thus remove all obstacles to salvation’. Nanak put emphasis on the importance of Guru for the realization of God. Nanak says ‘Without the Guru, no one can obtain God, however long the matter is debated’. With the help of guru, man enjoys divine pleasure; he does not know any sorrow. Guru is the raft or the ladder of the Sikhs. Guru is found through divine grace.

For this an inner preparation is needed.

Nanak in Sikhism: Nanak says: ‘If you are fond of playing with love of God, then come to me with your head on your palm; And once you set your foot on this path, do not hesitate if it is taken ‘.

The basic foundation of Sikhism is laid on the teachings of Guru Nanak. He is considered by the Sikhs to have extricated them from the accumulated errors of ages and left them erect and free, unbiased in mind and unfettered by rules, to become an increasing body of truthful worshippers. The religious movement started by Nanak continued to gather momentum under his successors. Its stern ethical tone and singularity of object were elements which distinguished it from similar movements in India. Its spirit of noncompromise carried within it possibilities of martyrdoms and the seeds of an organized community. The unsettled political conditions of the later period of the Moughal Empire created situations which inevitably transformed the Sikhs into an armed military order. But although the Sikhs changed their organization, their religion retained almost unaltered the impress of the teachings of Nanak.

The Mool Mantra #k Aae<mkar sitnamu krta puruo inr_av inrbEr Akal mUrit AjUnI sE_a<g guru prsad jp Ek‐omkār saṯ nām karṯā purakẖ nirbẖa‐o nirvair akāl mūraṯ ajūnī saibẖaʼn guru parsāḏ!

PURPORT: One Universal Creator God! Thy Name Is Truth! Creative Being Personified! No Fear! No Hatred! Beyond death! And beyond Birth too! Self-Existent - cause of His own existence! How one can attain! Certainly by Guru's Grace alone!!!

THE MOOL MANTRA – THE INVOCATION: The mool mantra has two parts the Invocation and the Explanation of the attributes. As is the customary etiquette before one begins the message there is invocation. Invocation comes first. ‘Ek Omkar Satnam’ is the Invocation. This is the essence. The entire Sikh religion is condensed in these three words. After this all that Nanak spoke is the explanation. Not everyone is at the same plain as Nanak is. And if that has been the case then there was no need for Nanak. The explanation is therefore needed. This is the methodology or Tariqat or the Way of Nanak to bring transformation in you. This is the way for the transformation of human consciousness. ‘EK OMKAR SATNAM’ is the remembrance and salutation of that which is. And there can be no better way than remembering the attributes of that which is. There is a significant difference between the invocation you do and the invocation of Nanak. The words Nanak is using as attribute are his experience.

These are the words of the one who has known.

When a master uses certain words there is certainly a difference. In fact it is the master who gives his fragrance to these words. Each word that Nanak has used echoes his fragrance and his being.

Nanak experienced his beloved and out of that experience these words overflow.

Before I go into the actual text it is important to know something of the birth of Jap Ji. Only then we will be able to enter the being of Nanak through the message of Japji.

One dark rainy night in the month of Bhadaun (The Indian Name for the rainy month)! Thunder! In between lightening! Periodic pangs of rain. The entire village was asleep. Only the lamp is lit in Nanak’s room. Thunder! Lightening! In between the sound of rain drops falling on the roof breaks the stillness of the night. An indrawn Stillness continues! Total silence! Only the melody of Nanak echoes. Until late that night Nanak continues singing. Night entered the third quarter. Nanak’s

mother feared. She gave a gentle knock at the door.

Mother Tripta said, ‘Son, go to sleep now. The night is about to disappear. It is almost day break, son go to sleep now.’

Nanak got silent. Same time amidst the dark stillness of the night a bird papeeha echoed the sound PIHU PIHU…. Nanak drew the attention of his mother towards this sound, and said, ‘mother are you listening to the sound of this bird. This bird is not asleep as yet. Its song – the Clarian call continues. The bird continued the lament of separation with its beloved. I am in competition with this bird. It is calling to its beloved. Then how can I be silent. I will continue to sing as long as this bird continues to call. Its beloved is close by. But my beloved is far. Even if I continue for lives only then I can reach. In love one does not count days.’

And thus Nanak continued singing. Nanak reached to the Ultimate through singing.

Nanak’s path is full of songs. Nanak’s search is unique. Remember Nanak did no Yoga! No Tap! No Dhyana! Nanak simply sang. And thus attained to oneness with the Ultimate! Nanak sang with so much totality that his song became ‘dhyana’ (meditation). Song became Yoga! Also song became tap or austerities. An ecstatic Kabir sings: surt klarI mtvarI mxuva pI GayI ibn taEle, SURAT KALARI MATVARI MADHWA PEE GAYEE BIN TAULE! Nanak is the one who drank the mystical wine to immesurable quantum!

Nanak continued to sing the rest of the life. Such songs are not the songs of an ordinary singer.

These are the songs of one who has known Truth.

These songs echo the ultimate experience of Truth or Oneness. These songs reflect the very Being of Parmatma or God or ‘Rab’ as Nanak calls Him. Having drunk Nanak is now overflowing that which cannot be put into words. Only an enchanting heart can feel Nanak and His ENERGY FIELD. The energy of Nanak cannot be destroyed by any means. Only an Enchanting heart can become a medium of communion.

Enlightenment is the ultimate experience. Yet still it is experience, because the experiencer is there.

Going beyond it, the experiencer too disappears.

Eastern psychology accepts mind as the lowest layer of human consciousness. It is dismal and dark.

You have to go beyond it. And the process of going beyond mind is ENLIGHTENMENT. Enlightenment is not an escape from pain, instead an understanding of pain, anguish, and your misery as well. It is neither cover-up, nor a substitute, instead a deep insight: ‘Why am I miserable, why is there so much anxiety, why is there so much anguish, and what are the causes in me that are creating it?’ And to see those causes clearly is to be free from them. Just an insight into your misery brings a freedom from misery.

And what remains is enlightenment. Enlightenment is not something that comes to you. Enlightenment is when pain and misery and anguish and anxiety have been understood perfectly well and they have evaporated because now they have no cause to exist in you. Know this state as Enlightenment.

‘Enlightenment’ belongs to the path of meditation. And ‘Self Realization’ belongs to the path of Bhakti. In enlightenment there is beyondness however there is nothing beyond Self Realization. The meditator says, ‘Enough is enough. For long have I suffered. Now let me be totally free.’ However he cannot ask. He tries, but he cannot pray because to the man on the path of meditation, even prayer is bondage. Mahabir never prayed, Buddha never prayed. Prayer was meaningless for Buddha; he made all efforts to get out of it.

A deep gratitude must be shown towards the whole just for the opportunity that you are, that you can meditate, that you can be silent, that you can laugh.

Zen believes in sudden enlightenment. According to Zen you are already enlightened. Only a certain situation is needed which can wake you up. Just a little alarm may do the work. If you are a little alert, then just a little alarm is enough to wake you suddenly. And the entire dream with all its long desires, journeys, kingdoms, mountains, oceans have all disappeared in a single instant. A leaf falls from the tree and tossing and turning it settles on the ground so too something settles in Lau Tzu and he is enlightened. A clatter of the broken tile as it strikes against the bamboo tree and Chickenzenji becomes enlightened. A simple situation and enlightenment happens.

An enlightened person is one who has no barrier between him and existence. And knowledge is a barrier.

Knowledge divides you from existence. Knowledge keeps you separate. Not knowing unites you. Love is a way of innocence. Innocence is a bridge. Knowledge is a wall. Who has ever heard of knowledgeable people becoming enlightened? They are the farthest away from enlightenment. Enlightenment grows only in the soil of innocence.

Your enlightenment is perfect only when silence has come to be a celebration. Hence I emphasize that after meditation you must celebrate. After you have been silent you must enjoy it, you must have a thanksgiving.

Enlightenment is always sudden because it is not an achievement; it is already the case. It is only a remembrance. It is only a reminding. It is only recognition. You are already enlightened but you are just not aware of it. It is awareness of that which is already the case.

Enlightenment means to live life without any hankering for meaning. Then whatsoever is is good, and whatsoever is not, that too is good. Whatsoever happens is good and all that does not is good too. Then each moment becomes so radiant, so luminous, so full of fragrance, and still there is no meaning. You are not in mind because mind seeks meaning in everything.

That which is is indeed meaningless. This is why Hindus call this world a play or Leela.

Nirvan implies enlightenment, the state of ultimate realization, the experience of one’s innermost core, the actualization of all the potential that one has carried all along, the seed turning into the flower.

The ultimate enlightenment means the ultimate dissolution of the ego, the ultimate disappearance of the individual. Sufism uses two words ‘Fana’ and ‘Baka’.

Fana is used as the methodology to attain various stages of fana or dissolution.

Try to be so wakeful that you do not fall asleep again.

Remain so alert that the future does not deceive you again as it had before. What has become past is nothing, but once it is your future then you get deceived by it.

Now it is past; and another future is arriving. Every moment future is arriving, and future can deceive you only if you are asleep. Then again it will become past.

The process of future becoming past continues.

Between these two these is a precise moment of NOW – NESS. Now let me tell you one thing: if you remain alert and you do not allow the future to deceive you in the present, the past disappears as well. Then there is no memory left of it, or trace of it. Then one is just a clean slate, a sky without any clouds, a flame without smoke.

This state of awareness is ENLIGHTENMENT. That is what the state of enlightenment is. It is so alert that only the Witness is real and everything else is nothing but ripples on the surface of the water.

Everything is passing, or is just a flux. Only one thing remains, and that is your Consciousness, or Awareness. This cannot be destroyed. Vedanta calls this as soul – the indestructible. Bhagvad Gita proclaims:

After enlightenment, you have to disappear. The world is left behind, the body is left behind, and the mind too is left behind; just your Consciousness, as individuality, is still there. To go beyond enlightenment is to go beyond Individuality and to become Universal or Cosmic. This way, each

individual will go on moving into nothingness. And one day, the whole existence moves into nothingness and a great peace, a great night, a deep, dark womb, a great waiting for the dawn happens. And it has been happening always, because each time you are born it is always on a higher level of consciousness.

Enlightenment is the goal of human beings. But those who are enlightened cannot remain static; they will have to move, they will have to change. And now they have only one thing to lose themselves. They have enjoyed everything. They have enjoyed the purity of individuality; now they have to enjoy the disappearing of individuality. This purity of individuality and its disappearance are two shores of enlightenment. The consciousness has to go beyond these. They have seen the beauty of individuality. Now they have to see the disappearance and its beauty, and the silence that follows, and that abysmal serenity too that follows.

The experience of enlightenment is also beyond description, but it has been described by all who have experienced it. They all say it is beyond description and still they describe it. It is full of light, joy, and the ultimate in blissfulness. If this is not description then what is description? I am saying it for the first time: for thousands of years the people who have become enlightened have been saying that it cannot be described, and at the same time have been describing it, and have been singing it entire life. But beyond enlightenment you certainly enter into a world which is indescribable. Because in enlightenment you still are; otherwise who is feeling the blissfulness, and seeing the light? Kabir says, ‘... as if thousands of suns have risen.’

Who is seeing it? Enlightenment is the ultimate experience. Yet still it is experience, because the experiencer is there. Going beyond it, the experience too disappears.

You have to understand one thing: that enlightenment is not an escape from pain instead an understanding of pain, an understanding of your anguish, an understanding of your misery -- not a cover-up, not a substitute, but a deep insight: ‘Why am I miserable, why is there so much anxiety, why is there so much anguish, what are the causes in me that are creating it?’

And to see those causes clearly is to be free from them.

Just an insight into your misery brings a freedom from misery. And what remains is enlightenment.

Enlightenment is not something that comes to you.

Enlightenment is when pain and misery and anguish and anxiety have been understood perfectly well and they have evaporated because now they have no cause to exist in you. Know this state as Enlightenment.

Nirvana means utter cessation, everything disappears.

There is simple emptiness. In that emptiness there is tremendous consciousness, fulfillment, but no centre to be fulfilled. To know it, it has to be experiencedâ&#x20AC;Ś.

Enlightenment is not a desire, a goal, and also is not an ambition. It is a dropping of all goals, desires, and ambitions. It is just being natural. That is what is exactly meant by flowing.

Enlightenment is the ultimate peak of sanity. When one becomes perfectly sane, one has come to a point where silence, serenity, consciousness are twenty-four hours his, waking or sleeping. There runs a current of tranquility, blissfulness, and benediction which is nourishment, or food from the beyond. Individuality is still like two banks of a river. The moment the river moves into the ocean, all banks disappear, all boundaries are annihilated. You have gone beyond enlightenment.

This is one of the most basic insights to be understood -- that mind is not one.

Hence, whatsoever you see through the mind becomes two. It is just like a white ray entering a prism; it is immediately divided into seven colours and the rainbow is created. Before it entered the prism it was one, through the prism it is divided. and the white colour disappears into the seven colours of the rainbow. The world is a rainbow, the mind is a prism, and the being is the white ray.

Ancient Music in the Pines - OSHO