Traveler’s Life
I have been away from my home in California for 3 months now and entering the last month of my current stay in Pune, India. If I have to be honest my mind has been somewhat restless with the thought. Thought of transition. I have to start wrapping up on many fronts. Planning on finishing the perishable foods here, not bringing in new food, figuring out what grains, spices and such other longer lasting food items to leave behind for a few months, whether to unplug the refrigerator, what clothes to leave behind, do some pending shopping for family, pack the bags, weigh them, complete any pending official work, plan for the departure day etc etc… Simultaneously the brain is trying to gauge the things that await me in the USA. Whether I will be able to handle it all like before?
As I walked to work today brooding about the imminent transition, a thought crossed my mind. Where do I really belong? Here in India or back there in the USA? Then I laughed at my own stupidity. A finite life I have and I am entertaining thoughts of belonging to a place. Mother Earth has been ever so kind to provide me a home wherever I go physically but I seem to forget that I am a guest here.
कुणा साठी उतरावे तंबू ठोकून?
For whom should I settle in one place and set up tent there?
A whole lot of people are nice and worth living for. But none of them are going to be here forever. Their lives are all just as finite as mine.
Musafir hoon yaaron
Na ghar hai na thikana
Muze chalte jaana hai
Bas chalte jaana
I am a traveler who has no home nor permanent address.
I have to keep walking.
Just keep walking.
Zindagi ka safar hai ye kaisa safar
Koi samjha nahi koi jaana nahi
Hai ye kaisi dagar chalte hai sab magar
Koi samjha nahi koi jaana nahi
The journey of Life, what kind of journey is it?
No one has been able to figure out. No one knows the answer.
What kind of road is this? Though everybody walks on it no one has been able to understand. No one knows.
Zindagi ko bahut pyaar humne diya
Maut se bhi mohabbat nibhaayenge hum
Rote rote zamaane mein aaye magar
Hanste hanste zamaane se jaayenge hum
I have shown immense love towards Life.
I am determined to show the same love to Death.
Though at birth I arrived crying
I will take leave of this world with a smile.
Jaayenge par kidhar hai kisay yeh khabar
Koi samjha nahi koi jaana nahi
But where will I go after Death, who knows? Who has figured it out?
After a reasonable study and reflection on spiritual literature I think I have a better understanding of that last part. Where will I go ? It is not a question mark anymore.
But before the mind could slip into a state of vacuum or emptiness the next thing that came to mind was that quadruplet from Samarth Ramdas’ Manaache Shlok.
Dehe tyaagita keerti maage uraavi
Manaa sajjana hechi kriya dharavi
Manaa chandanaache pari twaa jhijaave
Pari antari sajjana neevavaave
When you abandon your mortal body
May your good deeds leave a good name behind
Oh my mind, like sandalwood, learn to strive for the benefit of others.
Within yourself try to keep the good person happy and content.
I couldn’t help appreciating all over again how skillfully our saints have shown the purpose and way of life. Not only do they enlighten us to understand what is finite and what is not, lest our mind feel lost and disillusioned with the realization of mortality of the physical body, they enrich it with a sense of purpose and hope. Yes, the physical body is not permanent but while it lasts it can be employed for a larger good that will outlive the body.
No wonder Tukaram Maharaj extols the virtues of the saints over and over again.
Kaay Sango aata santanche upkar
Maj nirantar jaagaviti
Kaay dyaave tyaasi vhaave utaraayi
Thevitaa haa paayi jeeva thodaa
Sahaj bolaNe hita upadesh
Karuni saayaas shikaviti
Tuka mhane vatsa dhenu veche chitti
Taise maj yeti sambhaLit
What more do I say about the favors of the saints?
They constantly keep me awakened to spiritual reality.
How can I ever repay their kindness?
Offering them my entire life and service would prove inadequate.
Even a casual word from them proves to be precious advice.
They spare no efforts to make me wiser.
Just like its calf remains in the thoughts of the cow,
these saints watch out for me.
Saree is a repeat handloom weave from West Bengal. The body has stripes of silk ghicha mix while the pallu has jamdani work on muslin silk.
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