What Kinship With The World?

What kinship do we have with the world, asks Kabir, haman duniya se yari kya?

 

Kabir’s sufi Ghazal: Haman hai ishq mastana, haman ko hoshiyari kya explained.

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“Is there room for another person here?” a new boy was peering over into the room and asking them.

“Yea, there is. Why?” Mukesh asked.

“What kind of boys are living here?” he asked again, instead of answering them.

“Our kind,” Mukesh answered. What a strange question this was?

“What’s it got to do with you?” Inder growled at him from his bed. “Piss Off!”

“Actually, I want to change my room,” the new boy explained to the flaring Inder. “Would be better if I settle down with boys my kind, isn’t it? That’s why I am asking.”

“What kind of boys are living,” Rosh asked him, “in the room where you are at the moment?”

“Don’t ask mate,” the boy said. “Wicked, bad boys have come and settled there!”
“We’re exactly like that too,” Rosh explained. “Dodgy, wicked, bad … You won’t be happy if you come here.”

“Really?” the boy asked Rosh in amazement. “You’re kidding me? Who calls themselves dodgy? Don’t you want to take me?”

“If you want to give yourself to us, moron,” Inder grumbled, “why would we deny you the pleasure?”

The boy looked pitifully at Rosh and Mukesh. He hadn’t expected such indifference from Inder.

“Honestly, mate,” Rosh explained, “I was expelled from school for cheating. Was good for nothing, couldn’t enroll anywhere on merit, so here I came after being tossed around.”

“You’ve seen Inder. How he bosses everyone around in the room. Is rude. On top of that, he’s an alcoholic. Polishes off a bottle every day.”

“Some like entertainment from girls. He likes to be entertained by the bottle. You look like a decent chap. You’ll be intoxicated just by smelling the lid. Got it, or should I reveal more about everyone?”

The boy shook his head and moved on.

“What were you saying?” Inder objected on his character-assassination. “What crap were you talking about me? If I have a drop or two sometimes, why should you be defaming me?”

“Why worry, mate?” Rosh laughed and said, “You buy your own drink. You don’t beg, borrow or steal for it. Nothing is hidden from the Lord. Why try hiding it from men then?”

“Stop caring about the world. The world is not your mate. And you aren’t its friend ... ”

Haman hai ishq mastana, haman ko hoshiyari kya?
Rahen azad ya jag mein, haman duniya se yari kya?

Jo bichude hain piyare se, bhatakte dar-ba-dar firte,
Hamara yaar hai humme, haman ko intzaari kya?

Khalak sab naam apne ko, bahut kar sar patakte hain,
Haman gurnaam saancha hai, haman duniya se yari kya?

Na pal bichude piya hamse, na hum bichuden piyare se,
Unhi se neh laaga hai, haman ko bekaraari kya?

Kabira, ishq ka naata, dui ko duur ka dil se,
Jo chalna raah naazuk hai, haman ko bojh bhaari kya?

“Meaning?” Mukesh asked, “Your Hindi went over my head. Never heard that gazal before. Whose is it?”

“Kabir’s!” said Rosh. “Maybe he was Hindi’s first Ghazal writer. No wonder you haven’t heard it. Cos the world has been too busy leering at the half-naked Mandakini.”

“It means friend, that when He is within me as carefree love, why be careful? Whether you wander around unfettered or live in the world interdependently, what kinship do you really have with the world?”

“Life is like a train compartment. Whether you have companions or are travelling alone in the bogey, the train will continue to move. It is moving.”

“You might develop a fellowship with fellow-passengers, but what kinship can exist between you? When their destination arrives, they will depart. When yours arrives, you will alight.”

“No one stays with others forever, no one goes with anyone else. Then what kinship can there be?”

“Beautiful!” said Mukesh. “And the meaning of the rest of the lines?”

“Those who are separated from their beloved, wander. Those who forget Him, are lost in life. What is the purpose of their life, their destination? They know not.”

“My beloved lives within me. My Lord is within me, like the fragrance is within the flower. I need no quest. I don’t need to seek. I have already arrived.”

“The musk that the deer seeks, vests within him. Kabir says elsewhere:"

Tera Sai tujjh mei, jyun puhupan mei baas. Kasturi ka mirag jyon, fir-fir soonghe ghaas.

“Life is short. We live our lives, focused too much on what others will say? But do others really care? They are too busy with themselves.”

“We go to such great lengths for our honor. But only He is Absolute Truth. So, why the bondage to this world? Why such effort for what is only fleeting?”

“Whatever the world giveth, it taketh away. The flower it calls pure today, and considers fit to offer to the Gods, is consigned to the dustbin tomorrow, and treated as garbage.”

“Do you think the world cares about you? If you must aspire, pine never to be separated from Him. Yearn, that He never be parted from you, even momentarily. Loving Him, why would you be perturbed?"

“Kabeera, your bond is of love. Shun duality from your heart. Come closer. You are not isolated from Him, nor is He separated from you.”

“Our weaver friend has shared this same insight in different ways at many different places:"

Jaise til mei tail hai, jyon chakmak mei aag. Tera sai tujjh mei, tu jag sakey to jag.

“Like the sesame seeds have oil in them, and Flintstone has fire, Kabir says, your Lord lives in you. Recognize this, if you can."

"Kabeer ends his gazal by asking, that if one is to walk a delicate path, why carry a heavy burden?”

“You need nothing of this world to reach Him. He needs nothing of this world from you. So, in your journey of life, travel light…”

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