Imageries and the sounds of "Nirgun Verses"

It was a strange evening, as Mumbai was experiencing an unusual silence devoid of its busy and chaotic life. There was no traffic, and roads were empty. A frightened couple who was speaking the same language as mine, walked hastily on the road and searched for vegetable vendors. They talked about the shut-down and almost concluded that this is liable to happen on the death of such a great leader. I was waiting for my bus to Ahmedabad, feeling stranded in an area very familiar to me, which that day looked completely different than usual. A pet stray dog, named “darling” by the transport labourers, found a sudden affinity in me, and sat near my legs in a cheery way. I fed some biscuits to it, which were apparently for my own consumption during the bus journey, but the thoughts of future possibilities of hunger were long gone in such an eerie environment.

It was such a relief when Kumarji 1 sang into my ears, thanks to the portable music technology. His voice swept away the silence, and created a new landscape around me. That 14th Century verse had some innate strength and power which plunged me into many thoughts. 

A 1825 CE painting depicts Kabir with a disciple 3

अवधूता, गगन घटा गहरानी रे।

पश्चिम दिशा से उलटी बादरी,
रुमझुम बरसे मेघा।
उठो ज्ञानी खेत संभारो,
बह निसरेगा पानी।

निरत सुरत के बेल बनावो,
बीज बोवो निज धानी।
दुविधा दूब जमन नहीं पावे,
बोवो नाम की धानी।

-कबीर

O Unattached One!

Dark clouds are looming over the sky.
The winds have turned back from the west,
Don't miss the rhythmic rain,
Wake up O enlightened, tend to your fields,
Else, all water will drain away in vain.

Let's make a creeper of song and face, (naam aur rupa)
By planting the seed of Self,
Sow the seed of 'Naama',
Don't let the weeds of doubt settle 2

- Kabir

The weather was windy, music was everywhere in my mind while I started observing the people around me. I noticed a couple sitting next to me, tourists from some other country. They were worried about a late bus, and inquired again and again about the whereabouts of their bus to somewhere. The guy seemed much worried and disoriented thinking of a possibility of getting stranded in a city which would pay no heed to him, being closed and utterly busy in cremating a leader. His restlessness increased every going minute. Completely unfazed by his distress, the girl took out a book on an unknown subject. It had a gray intimidating cover, with deep red inscription not written in English language but just the script.

He looked in her eyes, and she opened a page neatly marked by a beautiful yellow floral bookmark. She started reading, and he listened like a disciple sitting next to a guru. Her expressions were serious and contained. I was amazed by a sudden change in the way they talked. His fears took a backseat, attention completely diverted to her. They looked as if, there was nothing else around. I tried understanding their slow and calm lip movements, with music playing into my ears. She continued reading paragraphs after paragraphs, and some portions which felt like poetry. In between, she added many elaborate explanations, contemplating the writing. They went on discussing the book for a while, till the guy’s doubts melted away and he became more relieved. At the end of the chapter they both smiled, with calm faces. A bus came honking and it was their bus. The lady silently closed the book. I would never know, what great words of wisdom she showered. The guy picked up the luggage, and swiftly moved towards the bus, while she followed. 

I smiled at the incident, and unaware “darling” kept searching for the leftovers of biscuit particles on the floor, unintimidated by the shut cityscape. I ended its search by feeding it the last few left in the packet. In the next few minutes, my bus also arrived. I sat on my seat and looked through my window, a barren human-less cityscape. After a while, deep sleep snatched my five senses away. Kumarji was ending his singing, with last lines which always end by the poet’s own name. 

चारों कोने चार रखवाले, 

चुग न जावे मृग धानी।

काट्या खेत मींड़ा घर लावे,

जाकी पूरन किसानी। 

पांच सखी मिल करे रसोई,

जीहमें गुरु और ज्ञानी। 

कहत कबीर सुनो भई साधो,

बोवो नाम की धानी। 

-कबीर

Four guards (truth, detachment, celibacy, naama) on four sides keep watch,

Lest, the deer (senses) graze the crops,

Cut the harvest, and bring it home

And offer it to the Lord.

Five friends (senses) cook together,

Even saints and knowledgable ones are in the soup,

Says Kabir listen O noble ones,

Sow the seed of 'Naama' 2

-Kabir

1. For those who are not well connected to Indian Classical Music, by Kumarji I mean Pt. Kumar Gandharva. His experiments in composing nirgun poetry in classical music is a known legacy. 

2. The credit of translating these verses completely goes to Mr. Parthajeet Das. It is taken from his blog http://maybemay.blogspot.in/2009/04/kabir-avadhuta-gagan-ghata.html, accessed on 20.11.2012. 

3. The picture's rights are with wikipedia, and is being taken from the link http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c8/Kabir004.jpg accessed on 20.11.2012