Bulleh Shah of Kasur in Central Punjab is another towering voice that provided a mystical message beyond caste, institutionalized religion and ideologies of power. Born in 1860 in a Syed family, he found a Murshid (spiritual master) in Shah Inayat who was an Arain (a lower caste). This enraged his family and they almost disowned him. However, intoxicated with the love for his master and driven by ideas of Unity of existence and equality of humans, he rejected such notions and stuck to his humanism.

Bulleh’s poetry reflected his rejection of orthodox hold of mullahs over Islam, the nexus between the clergy and the rulers and all the trappings of formal religion that created a gulf between man and his Creator. A common theme of his poetry is the pursuit of self-knowledge that is essential for the mystical union with the Beloved.

The yearning for anonymity and connecting with the Beloved requires that there are no distractions, no priorities and no illusions of attachment. Bulleh Shah’s verse and its translation say it so directly and passionately -(thanks again to Shahidain for sharing the translations by Muzaffar Ghafar):

Chal Way Bullehya Chal O’thay Chaliyay
Jithay Saaray Annay
Na Koi Saadee Zaat PichHanay
Tay Na Koi Saanu Mannay
O’ Bulleh Shah let’s go there
Where everyone is blind
Where no one recognizes our caste (or race, or family name)
And where no one believes in us

Ab to jaag Musaffir pyare
Raeen gayi latke taare
Kar le aj karni da weera
Mod na ho si aawen tera…

Awake, dear traveller, you’ve got to move on.
Trailing its stars, the night is gone.
Do what you have to do, do it today.
You will never be back this way.

Your companions are calling.
“Let us go.”
Awake, dear traveller, you’ve got to move on.
Trailing its stars, the night is gone.

A pearl, a ruby, the touchstone and dice…
With all that you thirst by the waterside.
Awake, dear traveller, you’ve got to move on.
Trailing its stars, the night is gone. (more…)

“Main NeevaaN Mera Murshid Uccha…
Main UcchiyaaN naal sang laayee”

I am lowly my spiritual guide is lofty!
I have tied my fate to such lofty ones!

“Bulleh naaloN chullaah changaa
jis te ann pakaaee daa
ral faqeera majlas keetee
bhora bhora khaaee daa”

A stove is better than Bulleh
because at least you can cook food on it
Saints sit together to eat
and share their food with each other

“Bulleh Pi sharaab tey kha kabab,
par baal haddaan di ag,
Chooree kartay bhan ghar rab da,
ais thuggan de thug noo thug.”

O Bulleha, Drench yourself in wine and feast
ignite the fires flaming out of the bones.
stealing, break into the house of God
and swindle the cheat of cheats.

“Mulla tay mashaalchi dohaan ikko chit
Loukan karday chananan, aap anhairae vich”

Mullah and the torch-bearer, both from the same flock
Guiding others; themselves in the dark

am here, this moment, inside the beauty,
the gift God has given,
our love:

this gold and circular sign
means we are free of any duty:

out of eternity
I turn my face to you, and into
eternity:

we have been in
love that long.

Rumi
Version by Coleman Barks, with Nevit Ergin
“The Glance”
Viking-Penguin, 1999

A friend, for the lack of a better term (why are we always hankering after labels and identities for some associations that lie beyond the act of defining), wrote this piece for Jahane Rumi. She is a follower of the Sufi creed and this is what created a bond between us that refuses to go away despite the different paths and lives we have led. The connection has stood the winds of time. There is an audio-link at the end as well.

Recently while going through some of my late grandfather’s books, I was struck by a feeble looking Deewan of Khowaja Fareed. Feeble because it bore the date of 1964 for its inclusion in his impressive book collection. Expressing the thrill of holding a book which had travelled 44 years in time to reach me is beyond words. Needless to say with what intensity the book’s contents kept me immersed in them for almost two hours with un -interrupted focus which is a rare event in an ever-reaching-out-to-meet-a-target kind of life style we are used to. (more…)

rocking and rolling
what have you been drinking
please let me know

you must be drunk
going house to house
wandering from street to street

who have you been with
who have you kissed
who’s face have you been fondling

you are my soul
you are my life
i swear my life and love is yours (more…)

I had earlier posted a video of Abida Parveen singing Bulleh Shah. While that is an all time favourite, the global voice of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan has also rendered Bulleh Shah with great ease and soulfulness. I am grateful to Cubano for opening the doors into this magical world of music. No words can capture the sheer beauty of this music. Videos are posted below (more…)

Sana’i ! If you don’t find a friend, be your own
friend! In this world of every kind of man and every kind of
task, be a man for your own task!*
Each member of this caravan is stealing his own
baggage — place your own self behind and sit before your
baggage!
People sell ephemeral beauty and buy
ephemeral love — pass beyond those two dry riverbeds and be
your own river!
These friends of yours keep on pulling you by
the hand toward nonexistence — steal back your hand and be
your own helper!
These beauties painted on canvas veil the
beauties of the heart-lift up the veil and enter: Be with your
own Beloved!
Be with your own Beloved and be a well-thinking,
good man! Be more than two worlds — dwell in your own
domain!
Go, do not become drunk with the wine that
increase arrogance — behold the brightness of that Face and be
soberly aware of your own Self!

Rumi

Translation by William C. Chittick
“The Sufi Path of Love”
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983

* Rumi refers to Sana’i’s discussion of good and evil companions
in his Hadiqat al-haqiqat.

Source.

Sur Suhni

This story dates back to the time when the Moghul Emperor, Shah Jahan ruled over Delhi. There was a wealthy potter named Tala, in Gujarat (a village in the Punjab), who had a beautiful daughter named Mahi (Suhni – the beautiful). About that time a handsome youth named Izzat Beg (Mehar), son of a merchant of Bukhara, had started on his Indian tour, and visited Lahore and Delhi, buying and selling merchandise. He chanced to pass through the village of Gujarat and fell madly in love with the potter’s daughter. So he stayed back indefinitely and forgot his home and profession.

He used to visit the potter’s house constantly on the pretext of buying the pots, and so oblivious was he of his financial state that in a short time he converted all his wealth into pottery. His home was now full of pots of all sized and shapes. Very soon he was obliged to open a shop and turn potseller to support himself.

But his heart being with Suhni, he could not attend to retailing earthenware and shop was closed and Izzat Beg came under the employment of Tala, whose daughter he loved. First they put him to knead the clay.

Then they gave him a herd of buffaloes to graze, which he did as a labour of love. At last one evening chance brought him face to face with the beloved, to whom he then confessed his feelings. Suhni was struck with his devotion towards her, and she gave her heart to her father’s servant. They met secretly thereafter but not for long. (more…)

I am grateful to Shahidain for introducing me to another majestic poem of Bulleh Shah with the translation and a preamble:

Ever since the soul has been seperated from its source, it has been pining to go back to it. The feeling of loneliness by man will not end till the soul unites back with the Lord. When God had not manifested himelf, all the the souls were united with Him. When they were seperated , there was a covenant between them, that He would reunite those with Him, who were really desirous to do so. So the Lord is as keen to end the period of seperation as is the yearning soul.

O Maid! Who is this well clad Person?
O Maid! Offer Him a seat and enquire Him sincerely

He has a staff in hand, a blanket on His shoulder
He has glowing eyes
He is not aservant but some one ecstatic
Ask Him politely and sincerely

Do not call Him a servant or a herdman
He is not without any deep secret
He seems seperated (from his Beloved) on the very first night of Union
He has come here looking for his Beloved, O Maid

O Maid! Who is this well clad Person?
O Maid! Offer Him a seat and enquire Him sincerely

He is neither a servant
nor has He any interest in tending buffaloes
He is neither fong of milk nor yoghurt
Neither He feels hungry nor thirsty, O Maid

O Maid! Who is this well clad Person?
O Maid! Offer Him a seat and enquire Him sincerely

Bulleh, the Beloved is hidden and sits aside
Neither He speaks nor reveals any secrets
My father is trying to find a fiance from Kheras
O Maid, whereas my Fiance is with me

O Maid! Who is this well clad Person?
O Maid! Offer Him a seat and enquire Him sincerely

(translated by Saeed Ahmad)

The original Punjabi version is posted below: (more…)