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Translated Discourses on Dariya:* Sanskrit Words Defined * 1 * 2 * 3 * 4&5 * 6 * 7 * 8 * 9 * 10 * 11

Strength Lies in the Trust for Divine Song

The third discourse: 23rd January 1979: Osho Commune International, Pune

Meeting with 'bevaha', the eyes became elated.

Heart and mind became exhilarated and intoxicated, like mute had nectar.

Trust in divine song is one strength, a hope and a confidence.

Love and conviction on that one name: that saint is wise and devotee.

The fragrance is very close, hence it is not obvious.

Misunderstanding makes one wander to pilgrimages and do penance.

Yogis and sevdas are struggling, would all fall into death.

Only the ones with truth would dodge destruction, Dariya says.

Water is fathomless, water is boundless, How across it.

Unless one finds master who can row, one parishes amidst whirlpool.

Dariya speaks of nirvana.

The fragrance of nirvana can only emanate from words of those who have effaced themselves totally; the ones who are not. The ones who have eradicated their ego. The ones who have void established within them. From their void rises music of nirvana. As long as there is speaker, the fragrance of nirvana would not rise. When speaker became silent then the real speech sprout. As long as flute is filled with something, notes do not rise. Flute should be hollow, completely hollow, only then can it be the carrier of notes.

Dariya is a hollow bamboo. Words of nirvana are flowing from him - these are not his, they belong to divine. Because who else but divine would speak the words of nirvana? No one else can speak. And wherever you hear the resonance of nirvana, bow down there. Then you let go your own expectations. People keep entertaining expectations, that is why they remain deprived of Satgurus. Satguru would not be in accord with any of your expectations. Your expectations have arisen from your ignorance. Your expectations are nothing but a portion of your ignorance. But every person seeks a guru in according to his expectations. Guru is ever-present - the earth has never been so unfortunate that a guru would not be present - but our expectations ...

Now, for example, if you regarded Al-Hillaj Mansur as your guru and you set out to seek. Then you would not consider someone a guru until his hands and legs are not chopped off, his tongue is not cut out and he has not been beheaded - until then you would not consider anyone your guru. If you considered Jesus as your guru then until someone is not crucified you would not regard him as guru. But the one who has been crucified, what use would one be to you? You create your expectations from the bygone gurus. So, someone is searching for Mahaveera - he will not find gurus. Mahaveera happens once, that is all. Someone is searching for Buddha - he will not find gurus. Buddha happens once, that is all. Nothing ever repeats in this universe. This universe provides unique personality to every one.

Guru is always present, and it is not that there are no seekers, but the search becomes somewhat incorrect from the beginning.

A sword may be drawn or may not be drawn, but

The one who says word of truth, you regard him as Mansur.

Whether he is hanging or not, the one who says words of nirvana, the one who speaks truth, the one who has ring of truth, the one in whose proximity the wine of truth starts to make your body and being intoxicated - consider him to be Mansur.

A sword may be drawn or may not be drawn, but

The one who says word of truth, you regard him as Mansur.

Wherever you hear this proclamation - I am Brahman - go there a little alertt, dropping expectations, being peaceful, silent, without thoughts and bridge a connection, join a connection, sit in satsang, because satsang is the only bridge. Dariya speaks of nirvana! But will you listen. The question is of your listening. Satgurus speak, they have always been speaking, but on most of the stone deaf ears, the words fall and get lost.

Jesus has said, 'It is like someone spreads seeds, if some fall upon pavement then they will never sprout. People walk on the pavement day and night, when would the seed find opportunity to sprout? Some seed would fall upon the hedge. They will sprout for sure but would soon die out.

Because through hedges people pass, they pass through once in a while, not like pavements, but even so they do pass. Some seed may fall upon rocks, from there no one walks through. But, have seed ever sprouted on rocks? Yes, some seeds that fall on the appropriate soil, on damp soil, they will sprout, they will grow, they will become big trees, their branches will spread through the skies, their heads would caress moons and stars, they will have flowers blossoming, they will have flowers cascading.

Satgurus spread the seeds in the form of sayings, but where will you receive them? If you received in your head then that is a much traversed pavement. So much of crowd of thoughts is traveling there, the traffic is such that no seed can sprout there. Until you receive the seeds in the damp soil of your heart, you would be deprived of crop. And the life is so sad. And the reason life is so sad is only because the seeds with which your life would have become green, blossomed, flowered; you never accepted those seeds. And even if you worship, you worship corpses. If you make offering of flowers, it is in front of stones. If you go on pilgrimages, you go on the pilgrimages outside. There is but one pilgrimage, it is called inner-journey. And Satguru is only meaningful if he is alive.

You would not ride a boat with a corpse as a boatman! And, no matter how big a boatman he might have been while alive but now the oars in his hands have no meaning. He would not be able to row the boat.

As far I can see, all I see is smoke,

Nowhere is the water, only the desert croon,

Nowhere can one mistake for echo of the dancing-bell,

Terrified of dying, life does not wail here,

From here, of course, from here the life begins!

If only you could remember that you were born to be spring and what has become of you? The burning hot mid-day of hot summer! The sweet sound of cuckoo was to resonate within you, or the coel's song was to have arisen out of you. And what have you become? This crowd of barren thoughts, this crowd of worthless thoughts, this trash and dirt! With these you have filled the container of your inner core in which you could have filled the nectar of immortality. You were born to be a grove and you have ended up being a desert - if you can recall that - from that very point, from here begins the life! With that remembrance begins the life. Because from that remembrence the search for Satguru starts. So to search the one whose sayings would befall upon your heart like seeds ... Dariya speaks of nirvana ... whose juiciness of nirvana can arrest you also, whose cry for nirvana can call you also - it becomes a challenge - you too can be with him on the journey to infinite - journey to unknown, search for divinity becomes your search.

As far I can see, all I see is smoke,

Nowhere is the water, only the desert croon,

Nowhere can one mistake for echo of the dancing-bell,

Terrified of dying, life does not wail here,

From here, of course, from here the life begins!

Immovable rocks are standing with open arms,

Sand storms pass by with bows stretched,

Some wondrous quiet, not even a leaf waves,

Not even verbal support of a weak straw is heard,

Sometimes madness guffaws, sometimes hope cries.

Name of madness lives, name of madness dies,

Broken dreams pass before the drowsy eyes,

The partition from light is never lifted,

Morning may or may not arrive, can’t shake loose night,

Somberness walks together, somberness sleeps together.

For the sake of making, we have made destiny ourselves,

Failure is a capital, hopelessness is an earning,

Friendship is with jealousy, love affair is with entanglements,

If there is fight, the fight is our with existence,

Oar itself sinks boat at the shore.

Happiness often calls us from crematorium,

Hurdle always become limitations and surrounds us.

At times an exposition persists of imaginations, thoughts,

At times an answer does not come of innocent queries,

Our hands are empty, only the eye has a pearl.

Night always laughs finding us awake,

Fire comes down from sky on winter night with full moon,

Whichever star we look, it shoots,

If we catch water-flow, we come off of the bank,

Flower bud smiles and then pricks our eye.

At times a threat from cemetery, sometimes abuse from storm,

Our cup of life is never empty of sorrows,

Clouds shower from morning to evening in desert,

We suffer for water even though live amidst ocean,

The death comes and wets our lips with kiss!

If we drown in a whirlpool, we float,

We have ourselves died just to make picture come alive,

Our heart is never in to joining a marriage procession,

No end of our path becomes our destination,

The vermilion of understanding adorn pain in our parting.

As far I can see, all I see is smoke,

Nowhere is the water, only the desert croon,

Nowhere can one mistake for echo of the dancing-bell,

Terrified of dying, life does not wail here,

From here, of course, from here the life begins.

The moment you recall the fact that you are becoming worthless without cause, missing out on the supreme opportunity in life just like that, much could have happened here, everything could have happened here and nothing is happening, here the divine could have happened and you, who had come empty handed and you will simply be gone empty handed! What ignorance! What childishness! What stupidity! Break it! Dariya speaks of nirvana. Listen to Dariya's words, these words can become boats for you. This words will startle you, awaken you, shake you. These words can also get you to other shore. Even if you just recall nirvana, even if a little dream of the other shore arise in your mind - then this shore can’t keep you tied for too long. The shackles from this shore will begin to shatter.

Meeting with 'bevaha', the eyes became elated.

'Bevaha' is the name given to 'Omkar' (the soundless sound) by Dariya's devotees. Like Nanak says: 'Ek Omkar Satnam' (only the soundless sound is truth), as he called Omkar as truth. Like Hindus declare 'Ram', Moslem 'Allah', Jainas 'Namokar', Buddhists 'Go to the feet of the awakened one' as mantras; or like Gayatri or Japuji. There are short mantras and long mantras, but all the mantras have the same purpose: the music that lays dormant in you may be activated. Whether it is activated with 'Namokar' or 'Gayatri' or some verse from Koran, it does not make a difference.

Veena is within you, that veena is to be caressed. With which finger would you caress, whether the finger would be adorned with a diamond ring or a gold ring or no ring at all - does not make a difference. The finger would be white or dark, long or short, that does not make a difference. Just so that the strings within get activated, a resonance arise - you become bathed in that resonance.

Followers of Dariya call their supreme mantra as bevaha. Bevaha is dormant within you. You have brought it with you at birth, it is permeated in every one of your tissue. But until you awaken, you will remain deprived of light, deprived of significance, deprived of bliss. Dariya says: Meeting with 'bevaha', and the one who has met with that supreme music, that soundless sound, the one who has dived into that Omkar ... Meeting with 'bevaha', the eyes became elated ... his eyes become blissful. Understand this way:

My tongue talk about you, eyes have a yearning

That is the only ablution, that is called prayer.

What is the name, it does not make a difference. Whether it is Ram or Allah; Krishna or Buddha; any name you can call him. Name is just an excuse to be aware of him. Name is like this, you leave home to go to bazaar to buy something. Lest you forget, you tie a string around your finger. There is no value of the knot. And whether you tie the know this way or that too does not make a difference. Whether you started from the left or from the right, that too does not make a difference. The knot, in itself, has no value whatsoever. But the know does have a purpose. The knot will keep reminding you. You will walk on the street and it would remind you. If you forget it, others would remind you - why have you tied string around your finger? It would keep you reminded that something has to be purchase before returning home. You have come to bazaar to buy something - there is a purpose that has to be fulfilled. So, whether it is Ram's tie or Krishna's tie, or Gayatri's, or Namokar's or Bevaha - it does not make any difference. Some tie is needed that can keep reminding. For twenty-four hours, it should keep reminding.

My tongue talk about you, eyes have a yearning

Just that your name be on my tongue and in the eyes there may just be one yearning that I have to see you. Tongue may keep reminding eyes that I have to see, eyes may keep reminding tongue that his glory may continue.

My tongue talk about you, eyes have a yearning

That is the only ablution, that is called prayer.

That is prayer, that is worship, that is namaaz. And the one whose eyes have yearning to see him and on whose tongue his remembrance became intensified, then the revolution happens.

Full are the eyes with intense desire of beauty.

How is it possible that spring be not there where I am!

The one in whose eyes the intense desire to see divine has arisen, the begins to dance all around one. The blossom time has arrived! Then there is spring all the time! The one who is drowned into the awareness of divine knows of only one season: spring. His seasons does not change. For him the season becomes stand still. For him the changes in time become non-existent. For him the changes in time take leave. In his inner core the unchangeable existence begins to hum. He has only one season: spring. Flowers shower during it. He only drinks honey.

Full are the eyes with intense desire of beauty ...

And in his eyes you can catch reflection of beauty of the beloved. His eyes always remain overwhelmed with beauty. His eyes always remain moist with beauty.

Full are the eyes with intense desire of beauty.

How is it possible that spring be not there where I am!

There is blossom time wherever such person sits, there is temple of intoxicants wherever he sits. Pilgrimages are formed where he stand and walk - where his feet touch.

And you want to see divine, just want to see divine and the thing happens - because divine is already seeing you. Its eyes are imbedded on you. That is why we say that it has thousand eyes because its eyes are on every one. It is just that you are averting your eyes. You look here and there. If you remember him, your eye would meet its eye too. And wherever eyes meet, miracle happens.

As the curtain from heart lifted, eyes became shiny.

I did not know, that modest behind veil was in heart!

And the day that you would see it, you would be surprised. You would laugh and cry too. That is why people thought of devotees as crazy. Because laughing and crying together only happens to crazy people. A sane man laughs when there is a need and cries when there is a need. But this never happens that someone cries and laughs also, together. Lips laugh and eyes cry or one eye laughs and the other cries. These are symptoms of madness.

That is why people thought the devotees were crazy. But do understand devotees. If devotees are mad then madness only is something to acquire. And the ones who are not devotees and therefore same, then sanity is not worth two clams, get rid of it. The craziness of devotees compared to sanity of your so-called sane people is million times more valuable.

But why does it happen that devotee laughs and cries too?. He laughs: "This is too much, this was quite a joke that you were sitting within and I, god know where, kept looking for you. You were within here and even to walk was not necessary, a step had not to be taken and you would have been revealed. And how many journeys have I undertaken. How much dust, how much dirt have I tolerated! All the way to suns and moons have I gone and you were seated within me." So, he laughs that it was too much, it was an ultimate joke. And he cries also, cries because, "How long have I live without you!" He cries, "How many bad days have I seen without you." He cries, "Till now, the entire life has been nothing but an accident."

Meeting with 'bevaha', the eyes became elated.

Do understand this thing. This thing is valuable. the eyes became elated. You have seen articles that give bliss, but you do not have an eye that pours bliss. Yes, you saw the sun rise in some morning and exclaimed, "It is very beautiful." And some time saw a blossoming rose and exclaimed, "It is very beautiful." And some times saw some beautiful face and exclaimed, "It is very beautiful." But all this is beautiful outside. Your eyes have not yet become so skilful that they render things beautiful - that whatsoever you look at, becomes beautiful. At present something seem beautiful when it is beautiful. Your eye is blank, empty. It only communicates. Your eye is not yet creative. Your eye only captures the image, it tells as it is. Your eye is passive. Your eye's function is negative - it tells what is. But your eye has not yet the capability to create, that whatever it sees becomes beautiful, wherever your eye-sight befalls music is born, the one you look at becomes dignified, becomes glorified. That is the specialty of the eyes of saints.

Baijid has noted, "I stayed with my master for twelve years. For three years he did not even talk to me. I just kept sitting by him, kept sitting by him - as if I am not even there. He used to speak to others, talk to them. He would neither look toward me nor talk to me. After three years he looked toward me. And in that look I was born. Just as soon as his eye-sight fell upon me and I was born. Everything changed in that very moment.

Then three more years went by and one day he spoke to me. And that speech, and such sweetness permeated through body and being; such taste, such intoxication - that can’t possibly be in any wines. Then three years went by and one day he put his hand on my shoulder and petted my back. And that touch, as if iron transforms to gold! Three more years went by and one day he embraced me and said, "Baijid! Now you are ready. Now you go, awaken the asleep! Now you go and peep in people's eye, pet their back, speak to them, embrace them! And the discipline became fulfilled. It became fulfilled just while sitting.

In whoever's direction Satguru glances ... the moment he looks at you, all your trash and dirt within you turn to ashes, your darkness withers away.

There is an eye also that has a nature to create bliss. And you are familiar with another kind of eye, one opposite to it. That is why you will understand this thing: there are eyes which would look toward you and you immediately become worm or insect. Your so-called sadhus and saints, the ones you worship, the ones you respect - go near them and see! Their eyes look at you in such a way - with such criticism, such scorn that the moment they look at you, you wish that the earth may split and you sink into it. There eyes see you as worms from hell. In there eyes is visible your future, that you will rot in hell, that you will be fried in vats with boiling oil. There is hell in their eyes, and that is the hell they see in you. And there is scorn in their eyes, not respect, not invitation. These are not marks of true saints.

True saints have heaven in their eyes. A magic is there. The worst sinner when stands before a saint becomes virtuous. Just by standing in front - he becomes virtuous. He has to do nothing else. His sight is enough - what else is needed? The magic of his sight is enough - what else is needed. The alchemy of his sight is enough - what else is needed? Should Satguru take your hand in his hand then it is much too much, the ultimate thing has happened.

Satguru does not reproach. That is the beauty of Satguru, he transforms your wrong also into auspicious. He transforms your sensual desire into desire for Ram, your anger into compassion, your greed into charitable nature. He declares your body, which is made with flash, blood, clay - as temple. 'O love-sick beloved, light lamp in your temple ...', Yaaree says it right, your body is temple, your human form is temple. Why do you cry, light lamps in this temple! Be a host, call the guest, he will come in this temple, in this body. Do not deny this body by calling it clay, because it is the home for immortality. Immortality has chosen it for its abode. In that choosing the clay became immortal, clay no longer remained clay.

The sign of a saint is this: you go to him as a sinner and you come back as a virtuous being, you go to him crying and come back laughing, you go to him as if burdened with mountains and come back as if you have wings. Wherever such incidence takes place, do not miss! Then you cling to his feet, then get hold of his arm, then the moment has arrive for you to surrender.

Meeting with 'bevaha', the eyes became elated.

But these eyes only develop when a union with the inner sound happens. When someone becomes drenched with Omkar, only then those eyes are attained - those magical eyes would make anyone feel like someone from a different world, when it caresses one. Its touch is like the touch of philosopher's stone.

This incident happened.

Vivekananda was a guest in one of the royal families in Rajasthan, maharajah of Khetri; before he left for the United States. Now a maharajah is a maharajah. Now how to receive Vivekananda? And a sannyasin going to America, the first sannyasin, the send off must be with reception! Now, everyone has his own language, his own way of thinking. Maharajah, what else would he do, he sent for the most well known courtesan of the country. A great celebration was organized. The courtesan's dance was scheduled. For whom was this welcome celebration being arranged, he totally forgot. For Vivekananda!

And at the last moment when Vivekananda found out - all the musical instruments were fine-tuned, courtesan was ready to commence her dance, the court was filled with people, then Vivekananda was asked to arrive - then he found that a courtesan's dance is to take place in his reception! You can guess Vivekananda's condition! He was hurt, what kind of a thing to do! A courtesan at the reception of a sannyasin! He refused to participate. This is a typical reaction of an ordinary Indian sannyasin. He felt insulted. This is disrespectful!

The courtesan had come with elaborate preparation. She had to receive a sannyasin, she had never danced or sung at a reception of a sannyasin; she had come well prepared, she had come having memorized many hymns- Kabir's, Meera's, Narsi Mehta's. She was much disappointed that the sannyasin would not attend. But she sang a song of Narsi Mehta - with all her heart, with lots of tears. She sang while crying her heart out. The music of her divine song became audible at Vivekananda's guest room. And Vivekanada's heart was impacted like the ocean waves striking the shore, falling upon it. Then he had much remorse.

Narsi Mehta has this divine song: a piece of iron is kept in the worship room, and there is a piece of iron at a butcher's house. But a philosopher's stone does not really have any discrimination. You may bring an iron from a butcher's place, with which he might have been slaughtering animals, or you may bring an iron from worship-house where it is used for worshipping, philosopher's stone would transform both into gold by touch. This incidence had a great impact, it wounded him. This was a revolutionizing incidence in the life of Vivekananda.

The way I see it, what Ramkrishna could not do, the courtesan did it. Vivekananda could not contain himself, tears started to roll from eyes - this impact became quite strong! If you are a philosopher's stone, then why this discrimination? Would a philosopher's stone be able to see a prostitute or a faithful wife? What difference does it make to a philosopher's stone - who is faithful wife, who is prostitute! Where does the iron come from, what difference does it make - with a mere touch with philosopher's stone all irons transform to gold.

He could not contain himself, he arrived at the court. The emperor too was surprised. People also were surprise, that first he declined and not he arrived! Tears were rolling down his cheeks. And he said, forgive me. He said to the courtesan, "Forgive me, I am yet weak. That is why I was afraid to come. Otherwise what was the need to fear? But you have done the right thing, your voice has roused me, awakened me.

Vivekananda used to remember that incidence quite frequently that a prostitute imparted him spiritual instruction. These distinction, a true knower would have none of them. A sinner may go, a virtuous person may go, he touches them both. He transforms both to gold. This is the kind of magic he has in his eyes. This is the kind of magic he has in his heart.

But this is only possible when soundless sound within has been heard. Meeting with 'bevaha', the eyes became elated. Eyes not only become intoxicated they also become ones that impart intoxication. And only then you shall know that eyes have become intoxicated when they also impart intoxication.

Which cloud does this tear-drop comes from

The one that has rolled onto my lip:

The dormant day-dreams that were indifferent

From childhood, began to have fragrance.

I am exhausted having looked all around

Never could find one like me,

Heaven knows where all have I wandered

Like a self-hypnotized quiet dream.

From what ankle-bells come musical-notes

The one that is humming from my throat

The songs that were silent for years

Have begun to chirp like cuckoo.

Which cloud does this tear-drop comes from

The one that has rolled onto my lip:

The dormant day-dreams that were indifferent

From childhood, began to have fragrance.

A single drop of soundless sound when falls on one can make one's life transform. The world is the same but you do not remain the same. And when you are not the same then how can the world be the same? The moment your way of looking at things changes, all the visible things change. Change the glance, change the globe. When the eye changes, the earth changes. The same tree when you would see later with the eye-sight drenched in the soundless sound and you would be astonished, these trees are not just trees, they are the longing of the earth to reach the sky. These trees too are advancing in search of truth toward sky just like you are. They have their own way. The flowers are blossoming on the trees just like prayers are arising within you. Flowers are their prayers.

And these birds who are chirping in the early morning, that too is the song of his invocation that is going on. These all are part of his great celebration. This whole world is engrossed in his prayer, in his worship. These mountains that are stooping are all bowing in namaaz for him. And these oceans that are agitated are agitated in his longing.

Once you become aware of the music within you, you would feel the entire universe reverberating with his music. You would hear his tune on every veena. On every flute you would hear his song. Every flute player would become little Krishna. And until that does not happen, do know that you just kept missing and just kept losing.

Which way is my heart drawn, what does my mind.

How can I say what cause and why I missed my namaaz.

Insignificant namaaz drops off when the big namaaz happens. When his mindfulness happens, who cares whether you went to temple, gurudwara, church or wherever ... who cares. Whether you even went or not, who cares for that too?

A sufi fakir kept going to mosque to do his namaaz all five times a day. He never missed. He never left town thinking, "if I go to a different town and what if there is no mosque there." Seventy years. Town folks became used to him being at the mosque. Even if he were ill, he would still go. Once he was so ill that the village people had to carry him - he could not even walk. But one morning he did not get to the mosque; so the conclusion was obvious, the village people thought that the old man had died the night before. Nothing else was possible, if he were alive he was bound to come. He must have died! So all the people went to his hut. Do you know what he was doing? He was not dead. The truth is that such liveliness no one had ever seen in him, that is how much alive he was. He was playing his tambourine - sitting under a tree - the sun was rising, birds were chirping and he was playing his tambourine, as if he was giving beat to the songs of birds. And he was so overwhelmed and he was undulating so, and the tears of joy were flowing. The village folks said, "You have become infidel near your death! What kind of paganism is this? Why have you not come to the mosque, why have you missed namaaz?" He replied, "I used to come to the mosque as long as I did not know how to do namaaz. Now that I have come to know namaaz, what is the benefit of coming there? Now that I have gotten education, why go to educational institute? I tell you the truth", said that old fakir, "the namaaz has blossomed today!

Today the prayer has been born! Now there is nowhere to go, nowhere to come. Now mosque is wherever I am."

Which way is my heart drawn, what does my mind.

How can I say what cause and why I missed my namaaz.

Why did namaaz got dropped off, how can I describe its reason? Who will understand? It got dropped off because namaaz became complete. When meditation becomes total, it drops off. Only the totality of meditation is superconsciousness. Superconsciousness is when there remains no need for meditation. When love becomes total then it becomes silence. Nothing remains to be said. And what is is inexpressible, indescribable.

Meeting with 'bevaha', the eyes became elated.

Heart and mind became exhilarated and intoxicated, like mute had nectar.

Dariya says, not only heart became exhilarated, even mind became exhilarated. Mind becomes exhilarated rather with difficulty! To be exhilarated is not mind's habit. But mind too has to be exhilarated when heart becomes exhilarated. Mind means brain. It is easy for heart to become exhilarated. It is difficult for mind to become exhilarated, because brain is mathematics, logic, thinking, the world of figuring. Heart does become exhilarated rather easily. But Dariya says it right: until mind also does not become exhilarated along with the heart, you must know that the feeling of exhilaration is still incomplete, broken. Only a half has happen. A part has still remained untouched, has not been drenched. The rain has not happened totally. The process of drenching ought to become complete. And it happens. If heart becomes fully drowned in the exhilaration then heart's exhilaration overflows, exhilarates mind also. This is an unprecedented revolution when mind also becomes exhilarated. When mind also sings songs of exhilaration. When mathematics and logic of mind too becomes engaged in the service of feeling of exhilaration. Heart and mind became exhilarated and intoxicated ... it became intoxicated. Your totality became a kind of intoxication. ... like mute had nectar ... and experienced such taste, drank such wine that the condition has become like a mute person's. Can’t say what he drank? Can’t say what he walked? Can’t say what has happened? Like mute had nectar. Much nectar has occurred but much depth of muteness has happen, words do not come out.

Love! every now and then our sweet music goes into unfathomable ecstasy.

Sing darling! be overwhelmed with this deep depth.

A flame came from somewhere and became part of my eyes

The pupils learnt to discern everything between me and my lover

When the golden sun arose, I took flight and sat upon a tree-branch;

You simpleton! may shiver with cold lying in the deep dark.

Should you pluck flowers from jungle to jungle, who then will suffer prickly thorns?

O my beloved! do know this thus rather than be in stupor, in confusion.

Hoarding straws from tall grass, I sat down to enumerate my pleasures and pains,

My beak was wide open, so I got to the peak note of 'G' in the very beginning.

In a very brief moment it can happen that a drop transforms to ocean.

My beak was wide open, so I got to the peak note of 'G' in the very beginning.

Love! every now and then our sweet music goes into unfathomable ecstasy.

Sing darling! be overwhelmed with this deep depth.

A flame came from somewhere and became part of my eyes

The pupils learnt to discern everything between me and my lover

The showering of sweet nectar is such, how can you ever say it? How can you ever tell? The ones who have known, have gone around getting hold of others' hands and saying, 'Come with me. You also find out, you also imbibe it. There is no other way.' This relationship is called 'disciplehood.' The one who has known catches hold of your hand and takes you in the direction that is indescribable, inexpressible. That is why disciplehood can’t happen without trust.

Do you know the meaning of trust?

Someone has known, and the one who has known can’t even tell what he has known, can’t even say what he has known, can’t even prove what he has known. To get hold of a man like that can only be done by ecstatic people, by intoxicated people. And to be with such a man, leaving aside a known path starting on an unknown journey, to leave shore that is well know and getting onto his boat not knowing whether or not the other shore even exist, can only be the work or a courageous person, an irrational person! Religion is not an undertaking of cowards.

And most of the time the opposite is happening. You will see cowards gathering together in temples, in mosques. Religion is an undertaking of courageous, irrational people. Religion does not grow out of fear. And your so called god is nothing but an offshoot of fear. The real god does not grow out of fear, the real god is an experiencing of a journey to fearlessness.

In this universe there is no person more fearless than a trusting person. Because he starts walking on untrodden paths, by trusting some one. And it is trusting such a person who is totally mute. Who does make signs but says nothing. To have the courage to follow such person is possible for only those who peek in his eyes, who come closer to him, who learn to pulsate in the aura around him. Only his aura can explain it. Only his existence can give an invocation within you.

The moonlight is fresh this time, the sweetness is fresh!

The candle lights are lit with music, O! the city shines in love!

On this day, Love! cuckoo chirps in every house!

A sweet flute sounded afar, a lonely wanders jungle to jungle!

What a strange evening is it, seem like it is morning!

Now this is an incredible night, when the candle lights, it is morning!

O! shall I be a rose, or a nightingale, or a cuckoo, or a partridge?

O black bee! this cloudy morning, my peacock of heart dances!

This night, such intoxication, 'Meera' walks her own way!

Henna has brought color, there may be little craving, a little loving.

It's a different ball game when ascetic is busy!

'Kabeer' is engrossed to himself when the universe rises or falls!

The spring comes a little early and the rain, my Love! falls gently!

The full moon happens this way, fruits fall off trees in autumn!

This splendorous full moon, what isn't it capable of doing!

This splashing water pot, what isn't it capable of containing!

What wondrous colors, black bee, flowers blossoming on roadside!

What manner, to say, is just dirt off one's feet!

Even dirt is something else, it's pride of gems!

Female ascetic is innocent, she hasn't seen her beauty yet!

Disciple is innocent. He does not know anything. And guru's utterances are garbled. It is paradoxical. Because what he wants to say is something that belongs to a different world. It can’t be contained in the language of this world, it does not fit. It is of such a world that by the time you bring it with pull and push to this world, it dies out.

It is as if you can’t enclose winds within boxes. And nor can you enclose sun beams inside satchels. It is a similar thing. You can’t clasp sky into your fists, it is a similar thing. And when the event takes place, the man becomes completely mute on one hand, and a great hum is generated on the other. But the hum too is incomprehensible. O! shall I be a rose, or a nightingale, or a cuckoo, or a partridge? ... You do not know what to do? Shall I express by becoming a flower, shall I sing by becoming a nightingale, shall I become a cuckoo - if I coo, perhaps the message may be delivered, or shall I become a partridge?

O! shall I be a rose, or a nightingale, or a cuckoo, or a partridge?

O black bee! this cloudy morning, my peacock of heart dances!

This night, such intoxication, 'Meera' walks her own way!

Henna has brought color, there may be little craving, a little loving.

Marvelous has happened. Is Meera to dance? Should she tell by dancing? Should she tell by singing? And Meera has danced much, and Meera has sung also much. Even then what was unsaid, is unsaid.

Dariya says, Dariya speaks of nirvana, but he isn't really able to say! They are just signing of a mute person.

It's a different ball game when ascetic is busy!

'Kabeer' is engrossed to himself when the universe rises or falls!

The spring comes a little early and the rain, my Love! falls gently!

The full moon happens this way, fruits fall off trees in autumn!

Everything becomes topsy-turvy. The laws of this world are contrary to the laws of that world. Laws of that world, mathematics of that world, logic of that world is contrary to this world's. Therefore translation is not possible, transfer of language is not possible. It is easy to do it from Hindi to English, it is easy to do from English to Japanese, it is easy to do from Japanese to Russian - translations can be done, although even in these much difficulties arise. But, to translate the experiences of that world of intoxication into this humble and poor man's psychology is very difficult. To translate that world of light into the language of blind men is very difficult. Not only difficult, it is impossible.

On this day, Love! cuckoo chirps in every house!

A sweet flute sounded afar, a lonely wanders jungle to jungle!

What a strange evening is it, seem like it is morning!

Now this is an incredible night, when the candle lights, it is morning!

But when it happens ... albeit the one to whom it happens becomes mute, there is much verbosity in his muteness. He dances, sings, calls, shouts. And the ones who have the slightest intelligence, the ones who even have an iota of wisdom can see for sure that he has found something, a diamond which he is not able to express.

This splendorous full moon, what isn't it capable of doing!

This splashing water pot, what isn't it capable of containing!

What wondrous colors, black bee, flowers blossoming on roadside!

What manner, to say, is just dirt off one's feet!

And even then, all this intoxication, this entire ocean that is descending, this honey of passion is nothing. It is dirt of the feet of that supreme beloved. But even the dirt from that world is more precious than the diamonds and pearls of this world.

Even dirt is something else, it's pride of gems!

Female ascetic is innocent, she hasn't seen her beauty yet!

He who is disciple has not yet seen beauty, how can he understand things about beauty? That is why trust. That is why confidence. When you feel trust for someone, follow him. Do not worry even if you have to wander around, and do not fret even if mistakes become committed; no one has ever reached the door of truth without mistakes. Do not be cunning. People come to me and ask, "How should we recognize Satguru?" I tell them to go ...to go after the one they fall in love with. If he is Satguru then good, if he is not Satguru then you would find ways to recognize Satguru or you will understand when one is not Satguru. If you sit down to think beforehand trying to decide who is Satguru and who is not then you will never find out. These are the things to know. The one you fall in love with, is the one to walk with. If he turns out to be not Satguru then do be thankful, well at least this much you came to know who is not Satguru! That too is enough. Fifty percent of your job is finished. When you come to recognize one who is not a Satguru, then the recognition of Satguru is not too far. The one who has known darkness as darkness, has taken step toward light. And the one who has recognized non-truth as non-truth, now truth is not too far.

Trust in divine song is one strength, a hope and a confidence.

Love and conviction on that one name: that saint is wise and devotee.

These are the things of intoxication - only one thing can become useful: trust. Trust in divine song is one strength. This is only one strength that to dance with dancing Kabeer, to sing with singing Meera, to hum with humming Dariya. Trust in divine song is one strength, This awareness my keep getting hold of you again and again, you keep drowning and drowning and drowning; such that only this will become your strength, because only that will become your experience. While dancing with Meera again and again, you too will know one day as to which flute's melody drives Meera to dancing. That flute's melody would be heard when you too would dance like Meera. Being intoxicated with Kabeer again and again, you would come to understand as to what source Kabeer has found which drives him to such intoxication. And you too have that source within you. It is just a matter of awareness.

Trust in divine song is one strength, a hope and a confidence.

Trust is the only hope in search of that supreme truth. And the ones who do not have trust in their lives - the total outcome of their life would be disappointment and nothing else. They would spend their life in collecting worthless objects.

What all great revolutions have taken place in the world.

The sky has changed, the earth has changed, not changed is the supreme lover.

In this world every thing has been changing, only the ways of that supreme beloved have not changed. That loving friend's habits have not changed. He still becomes delighted with divine song. He still begins to dance with dancers.

What all great revolutions have taken place in the world ...

How many revolutions have taken place upon the earth, how many things have changed, everything has changed. Nowadays neither the people are the same, nor their ways are the same nor the methods are the same? Where have the bullock-carts gotten to: they have become spaceships traveling to moons and stars. Where have plain old tools of stone gotten to: they have become atom and hydrogen bombs. Man has changed everything else; there is nothing in life as it used to be in the days of Buddha, or in the days of Mahaveera, or in the days of Krishna, or in the days of Zarthustra, or in the days of Lao Tse; there is nothing like that. Lao Tse has written, "A river flows close to my home town, beyond the river there is some village, we know about that. Because we could hear the dogs in that village bark in the silence of the night. And some evenings when the hearths would be lit and the smoke would rise in the sky then we knew about that. But from our home town no man ever crossed the river to go see that village." There was an era like that.

Now the era is such that the earth has become small - you can go around it in twenty-four hours! Now the era is such that man has his one foot on moons and stars. Everything has changed.

What all great revolutions have taken place in the world.

The sky has changed, the earth has changed, not changed is the supreme lover.

Only the nature of that supreme beloved friend has not changed. So, even today if you tie bells around your ankles - 'O! Meera danced with bells tied around her ankles' - you can even now charm him. Even now if you would play Krishna's flute, he would come along bound with your love. Even now he comes along bound with a fragile yarn of love.

In the changing flow of this universe only divinity is unchanging, eternal and as before.

The skeptics would just sit aside with their skepticism, says Shaad.

I would get glimpse of my friend's face one day with these very eyes.

And the ones who are into doubt will stay behind with their doubts. The skeptics would just sit aside with their skepticism, says Shaad ... Those who pretend to be very wise and are submerged into great doubts and the ones who have adorned their being with big question marks will just drown in their wisdom. They will die on the very shore. They will not be able to delight in drowning in to whirlpools. And keep in mind, the one who dies on the shore dies a horrible death. He dies like a dog. The one who dies in whirlpools does not ever die, he attain to deathlessness.

The skeptics would just sit aside with their skepticism, says Shaad.

I would get glimpse of my friend's face one day with these very eyes.

But the ones who have the eyes of trust, they definitely peruse that divine one day. This is the law eternal. Trust is the door through which to see him. Apply trust in your eyes like collyrium, make lampblack out of trust.

Trust in divine song is one strength, a hope and a confidence.

Love and conviction on that one name: that saint is wise and devotee.

Dariya says, "I only call him wise, I only call him intelligent who has understood this fact: Love and conviction on that one name, whose love is for that 'one' - only soundless sound of Om is true name - and whose conviction is only seeking for the 'one', and whose experiencing ... only him I call that saint is wise and devotee." Only he is saint, only he has attained to wisdom.

O Shaad! When could not find anything to make offering to his eyes.

Proceeded with 'shame' to his court.

What else do we have that we can offer to divine?

O Shaad! When could not find anything to make offering to his eyes.

When could not find anything to offer to god ... what else is there? Our arguments are weak, our calculations worthless, our pursuits only enhance complications, nothing gets resolved.

O Shaad! When could not find anything to make offering to his eyes.

Proceeded with 'shame' to his court.

Then to his temple, what can we take to temple of divine? Our helplessness, our shame, our impoverishment, our nothingness; let us take our empty container itself. This kind of courage can only be taken by a trusting person that he goes with his empty container. Otherwise people go with their knowledge, they go with their scriptures. Trusting person goes with his empty container. And what else do we have? An empty container of our being. And the one who has put down empty container of his being in his feet has become fulfilled, has been fulfilled. All else have changed in this world -

What all great revolutions have taken place in the world.

The sky has changed, the earth has changed, not changed is the supreme lover.

Just that his nature has not changed. The one who is happy to become empty in his trust, becomes complete.

The fragrance is very close, hence it is not obvious.

And the interesting thing is, the frustration is this that the one we are seeking is very close. The fragrance that which we are searching is within us - the musk lies within deer - and the deer goes mad. And it keep searching in the jungle, runs after it like insane - the musk which is in its navel and the smell is coming out of it.

Beauty lies within you. Truth lies within you. Truth, eternity, bliss lie within you. You have come from him, you are his part, he is hiding within you even today. As much. Just the seed is to break, just ego has to break. But this is an experience-proven fact the thing that is the closest is the most forgotten thing. Things afar come to memory.

Have you understood man's mind?

The one that is close does not come to mind. The one that goes far comes to mind. The one you have is not the one you relish. The one that belongs to some one else arouses tremendous desire in you. And it is not that if you get it you will be overjoyed. You would have fever for a couple-three days for getting something new and then it all becomes dull. The most beautiful woman becomes dull once she becomes your wife. The most beautiful man becomes dull once he become your husband. The largest mansion becomes worthless the moment to own it.

The fragrance is very close, hence it is not obvious.

Divine is so close, that is why it is not comprehensible.

Human ill-luck is beyond imagination.

The rascal is god yet looks like a slave.

Misunderstanding makes one wander to pilgrimages and do penance.

And there is but one misunderstanding in the world that the one we have set out to search is within us. We are all musks. Musk deer. The fragrance is within and setting out to search outside. There is only one misunderstanding in the universe, there is only one illusion that what is within, you have gone to search outside. What you have already found, you have set out to search. What you have already found, how will you find it? No matter how much you search. If the search stops, meeting may happen. If the race stops, meeting may happen. If you sit still it may be found. Close you eyes and get it.

Yogis and sevdas are struggling, would all fall into death.

Only the ones with truth would dodge destruction, Dariya says.

And how much search is going on! Hathayogis are burning their bodies, scorching them. They are lying on beds of thorn, standing on top of their heads. There are some who are just standing for years. Some have taken vow not to close eyes - they have ripped off their eyelids. Some have pierced spears through their mouths. What idiocy people are performing! You call it yoga! Ego is even more fulfilled with these, becomes intensified, the distance becomes even longer.

Yogis and sevdas are struggling ...

Jaina-monks are referred to as sevdas. Many vows and fasts. Much torture decaying of body. Dariya says, Yogis and sevdas are struggling, would all fall into death ... they will all fall in the company of death. All what they have done is going to be of no use, because anything that is done only strengthens ego. "I am the doer!" So the 'I' becomes stronger. I, the doer. I have done so many days of fast. Do you know, each year the diaries of Jaina-monks is published as to how many days of fasting they have done, who has done how many? An account! You are keeping an account of even the days of fasting?! The trader-mentality never leaves. These gentlemen might have kept books of accounting in earlier days, now they have become monks - still keep books of accounting. If they happen to meet god someday, they will sit down and open their books of accounting and say, "See! I have done this much and this much and this much. I need profit margin on this - I need profit with interest! Are these ways to unite with divinity?

This is not path of love, love does not keep books of accounting. And love does not even give credence to its act. Love only knows surrender. Love says: "Whatever you do, will happen. What can happen with my doing? And if ever did I fast, it was you who made me do it." And keep in mind, love has the courage, love says, "the good deeds as well as the sinful ones are yours! Whatever you made me do, I did. There is no one other than you. I do not even exist. You want me to do evil, then so be it. You want me do good, then so be it. You are the master." But people are busy in their acts, in their own acts. Varieties of actions! Variety of efforts. Some intense disciplines! And the outcome? The same little ego.

May Allah curse this sleep, what a nasty sleep is this?

When did the eye open? When the caravan set out on its journey.

Their slumber would vanish at the time of death. But by then it would be too late. When death will grab hold of their necks then would they realize that they are done for. All those fasts, all those vows, all those disciplines, all those yoga, contemplation and penance have gone to waste! At that time only surrender would be of any use, surrender was never done for the whole life!

May Allah curse this sleep, what a nasty sleep is this?

When did the eye open? When the caravan set out on its journey.

Awaken! Awaken before the caravan leaves! Get ready before death knocks on door. Have a little taste of the eternity, that is all the preparation there is.

Do not ask my condition, I feel like a stick in dry desert.

And caravan left having set me on fire.

Otherwise, your condition will be like - when a caravan makes a stop some in the way in a jungle, and the people of the group collect fire-wood and start a fire to cook food - and then leave. The wood is left behind, the pile of ash is left behind. Do not let this happen that your life may also be left behind like the charred wood in jungle and caravan departs.

Do not ask my condition, I feel like a stick in dry desert.

I am totally charred wood from jungle.

Do not ask my condition, I feel like a stick in dry desert.

And caravan left having set me on fire.

This caravan of life will keep on going forward, it will stop in other jungles, stay in other buildings, enter into other bodies, take birth through other wombs and your corpse will left be behind right here. And what you have done with this body will also remain behind - done by the body will remain with the body. You had stood on top of your head, you had done shirsasana, granted, but the body of the one who did shirsasana will remain behind here and the body of one who walked on legs too will remain behind here. The body of the one who slept on posh, soft beds will remain behind here and the body of the one who lied on thorns will also remain here. If body itself will remain behind, then all deeds that are done with body have all gone to waste! Do some thing that is within your innermost. Do some thing that shines forth your consciousness. Because the body will remain, deeds done by body will remain, the bird of conscious will fly away. If you awaken this swan that is within you, then it is of some use! And that awakens in only one way, by the yearning of divine, by prayer.

Trust in divine song is one strength, a hope and a confidence.

Love and conviction on that one name: that saint is wise and devotee.

Yogis and sevdas are struggling, would all fall into death.

Only the ones with truth would dodge destruction, Dariya says.

Why are you engaged in worthless discussions! Your situation is just like the one:

Gafil says: they are always dusting off their garments.

Without realizing there is also dust beneath their garments.

There are some people who are busy only in dusting off their garments, brushing dirt off their garments and totally forget that this body that is inside their garments is also dust. Some people are busy only in it - to drink filtered water or to cook food a certain way or to eat this or not eat that, or to not eat at night, or to eat during day, or to eat by begging. You are just dusting off your garments. And you are busy in outer deeds.

And they have invented very interesting things!

A Jaina-monk eats food standing up, not sitting down. Have you gone mad! A sky-wearer Jaina-monk eats food standing up. Whether you take food standing up or sitting down ... and I also know such gentlemen who take food lying in swing - it makes not difference! All you will take is food - it is just food. How you took it - whether standing, sitting or lying - it makes no difference.

Zen fakirs have this very common joke.

A Zen fakir was near death, he opened his eyes and asked his disciples, "Brothers, let m ask you a question. My hour of death is near. Have you heard of any man who died while sitting up?" The disciples said, "While sitting up! We have not seen it but we have heard that some fakirs have died sitting up in lotus posture." He said, "Forget it. This idea will not work. Have you heard that some man has died while standing up?" They said, "This is rather treacherous, difficult thing; but we have heard that once in a while it has happened that fakirs died standing up." He said, "Forget this too. I ask you this. Have you known or ever heard that some one died while in head-stand?"

The disciples were flabbergasted! Not only they never heard, they never thought that some one dies in a head-stand! They said, "No, neither have we heard nor thought - not even imagined." He, then, said, "This will be perfect. Well if I have to die, the death might as well be with style."

He stood on top of his head. Now the disciples would not know whether he is dead or alive. A man standing on his head. Their idea was that if he dies, he would fall down, but he was simply standing. They also looked carefully, his breath did not seem like it was flowing. But dead body, and they also got scared a little, what if he transformed into a ghost or a spirit. What is the matter? A man may die and keep standing in shirsasana!

So they ... his sister was just nearby - she was also a nun in a nearby monastery; an older sister. They sent her the message. The big sister arrived and said, "You ill-mannered nin-cum-poof! You did nonsensical deeds all your life and now you don't have peace and quiet even when dead? Behave!" As soon as the fakir heard her speak, he came out of the pose and grumbled, "Who called my sister here? She won't even let me die in peace. What is your idea? How shall I die?" She replied, "Just lie on bed. Die in the usual manner." He lied down and died.

This is a joke of Zen fakirs. They are poking fun on all those who are engaged in all those meaningless things. All this can happen. Die standing up, sitting down or in a head-stand pose. But dying is just dying. Learn some such thing that you do not even die. Body may die but you set on a journey to immortality.

Gafil says: they are always dusting off their garments.

Ignorant, unconscious people keep dusting off their clothes and they never realize -

Without realizing there is also dust beneath their garments.

Beneath clothes there is just dust.

And while playing these games outside you may do anything, but in reality nothing will be accomplished. There would be an illusion of accomplishment, but the explosion would not happen.

Even if you demolished the elements of four walls.

The facade is the same, there the curtain remains.

You may torture this body, burn it, distress it, lay it atop bed of thorns, whip you, poke your eyes, amputate your ears, puncture your ear drums, whatever you want to do you can do it - nothing will happen. You are getting in games with dust. 'The facade is the same, there the curtain remains.' Ego will not vanish, the facade of ego will not vanish, the membrane of ego will not vanish. That vanishes only one way:

Dariya says, only he survives ...

Dariya says the only who survives would be the one who is with the divine. The one who unites with divinity, the one who gets onto his its boat. The one who says, 'I am not the doer, you are the doer, I am just witness." With just that his name is added to the divine, his hand falls into the hands of divine.

Just without You, O my love of love!

My breath resembled sobbing the whole life!

The note that strayed off the flute,

The empty sky absorbed within its throat,

Tree-branch which became widow in autumn,

Enchanted spring decorated parting with vermilion.

The shore that became cross with boat,

Got loved from a whirlpool,

The candle that extinguished in morn like a pauper,

At night became dark night's emperor.

The one who was pauper in the morn became king in evening,

The one who was once looted became established again,

Only it was me, under whose feet, the earth kept sinking,

Grain by grain, for the whole life!

Just without You, O my love of love!

My breath resembled sobbing the whole life!

Loved so intensely your whole life, that

the static-silence of cemetery became verbose,

Looks and beauty were so generously given away, that

You placed a moon at every beggar's palm.

Love and devotion was bestowed so much, that

Every face became like mine,

. It turned into night whenever I shut my eyes,

It turned into morning when I open them.

But on this path of love and emotions,

I do not know but some gem was lost,

The age that I sought one time from afar,

Kept passing me by for the whole life!

Just without You, O my love of love!

My breath resembled sobbing the whole life!

I know not what appearance you like the best

Hence I kept changing clothes every day,

Where, when or what place you may grasp my hand

Hence I kept falling and getting up every day,

Which tune may charm your heart

Hence I sang songs in all ragas,

Long ago did I started my song of tears

Long ago did I blew the conch of revolution, of fire,

What kind of play, what play might I find you playing

Hence I played all games of the entire world

I know not when you might think of me

Hence some memory kept lurking the whole life!

Just without You, O my love of love!

My breath resembled sobbing the whole life!

Every day night came and went, every day

The eyes blinked with drowsiness but got no sleep

Every morning, every bud, every morning

Did blossom, but did not smile,

The moon organized raas celebration every day in brij

But the little flute of Krishna did not sound

The Ayodhya of heart was prospering every way

But no Rama was ever forgotten

Every place in life I found some thing missing

Every smile I found immersed in tears,

Every time, every hour - from earth to paradise

Some fire kept blazing whole life!

Just without You, O my love of love!

My breath resembled sobbing the whole life!

I wandered all around seeking you but not yet

Found any address of yours anywhere

I asked the awareness, the wisdom replied

'That is "truth" but don't you try,"

When I approached religions I discovered this

It is still enclosed in temples and mosques,

Yogis pointed out that to enchant is the yoga

Heard from pleasure-seekers that pleasure is bliss,

But when love was questioned its name

It embraced the earth and burst out crying,

Since then, having seen the anguish of the world

My eyes kept getting moist the whole life.

Just without You, O my love of love!

My breath resembled sobbing the whole life!

Until such time that you unite with the love of love, the breathing happens in vain. Until then, the breathing is just like a black smith's bellow. It is blowing wind but without any purpose. It is blowing but without any meaning.

Just without You, O my love of love!

My breath resembled sobbing the whole life!

And we are living just that way. Our living is only a marginal living. Our living not really an authentic living; it is shallow, it is hollow. If the little flute of Krishna plays in it, if the Ayodhya of Rama prospers in it, then perhaps something may happen!

Dariya got it right when he says -

Yogis and sevdas are struggling, would all fall into death.

Only the ones with truth would dodge destruction, Dariya says.

Only he would survive who has surrendered his hand to divine and who has clasped the divine hand in his own. There is no one other than divinity who will protect you from drowning. There is no one other than divinity who will row your boat. But where to seek divine? His hands can’t be seen. There is no idea of his boat's whereabouts. Temples and mosques are empty. Scholars and priests are making idle talk, they are quoting scriptures - they have turned into parrots. Where to seek Him. Where shall we look for him?

Dariya says:

Water is fathomless, water is boundless ...

Ocean is deep, ocean is large, Water is fathomless, water is boundless, water is such that the bottom can’t be found.

How would one get across it. And if you do not find an appropriate boat, or ship how would one get across it?

Unless one finds master who can row, one parishes amidst whirlpool.

Unless you find master who knows how to row, somewhere along the line you will have to drown amidst a whirlpool - as they are drowning all along. Divine hand is not visible but the hands of some Satguru can become visible. There is a rest stop between divine and an unaware human, that of Satguru. Satguru is such that he has one foot on the earth and the other in the sky. Satguru is such that he has one hand in your hand and the other in hands of divine. Satguru becomes the bridge. The ones who set out in search of divine would become atheist. Because he would not be found and there would not be any proof. The ones who set out to search divine with guru, atheism is their destiny.

The West has become atheist, and the reason is simple: a bridge was never formed of Satguru. The East is still a flickering theistic. It can’t be foretold when this lamp will extinguish. The winds are strong, a storm is formulating. China has immersed into atheism. Atheism is rising at India's door like storms and whirlwinds. This country too will become atheistic some day. Majority of people have already gone the route of atheism - it is just that they do not know it. Majority of people are atheistic - religion is just a formality for them. But even then a little lamp is still flickering. When will that go off too, it can’t be foretold. It needs oil it needs wick. And this lamp is flickering - you may or may not believe it - because once in a while some Kabir comes along, some Nanak comes along, some Dariya comes along, some Meera comes along. That is why this lamp is flickering just a little. You may believe it, you may not believe it, you may hold gurus' hand, you may not - but this country is fortunate, here the bright sun beam of Satguru has always been shining. The few that are courageous get hold of those sun beams and set out in search of the supreme Sun.

Divine can’t be found directly. Where is the eye that can see it directly? Where is the eye that can see the invisible? Divine should be such that it is somewhat visible and somewhat invisible also. With Satguru this impossible happens. Satguru is a little visible toward you and a little invisible. When you unite with Satguru, you first unite with the visible. You will hear his words, they will sound lovely, you would unite. Pretty soon, he would gradually give you the wordless in the guise of words. Be would bestow the wordless in the guise of words. You would unite first having seen the visible; but if you do unite you would not be divided from the invisible for too long. You will first unite with his music, and then soon you would be joined with his void also. First you would fall in love with his body, and then soon you would be shrouded with his very essence - atman.

Water is fathomless, water is boundless, How would one get across it.

The ocean is bottomless, boundless - without ship there is not getting acrooss. A ship named Nanak ... Should you meet a person like Nanak, he would become your ship.

Unless one finds master who can row, one parishes amidst whirlpool.

Seek one ... seek one. Do not drown - you have drowned many times, do not drown this time. You have come without consciousness and then left, this time become conscious. "Be conscious right now, idiot."

You can do it. You have the capability. Just integrate your capability.

This is winding alley of love, you will wobble a little, but only after much wobbling one learns to walk! When a small child stands up for the first time, he does not immediately proceed to Olympics to race ... to compete in an Olympian race. He does not immediately becomes a great runner. He takes one step and falls down, be hurts his knees, falls again and again. But more he falls down, more he accepts the challenge - and gets up and walks.

Similarly, you will fall many a time, you will hold up many a time, you will break down many a time, you will spill many a time. You will have to collect yourself many a time. But if you kept at it, did not get afraid of falling, did not escape from making mistakes, then you too will be able to walk. This path of love is very peculiar. But the one who sets out on the path of love, does get there. And there is no path other than the path of love.

A strike-like got to me at heart, arose a new apprehension-like;

A sand-storm-like arose, a cloud-like spread, igniting golden Ceylon-like.

Come to me doubt-like concealed as a dagger-like, speak to me crazy death-like;

How could now, the water sealed in containers quench thirst of mine?

Wounded heart, tortured soul would not byte a thing;

Tenderness may sprout, but heart has no seed.

Shattered dreams, pleasure vanished, henna replaced with blister;

Occasion like this - does heart wishes for dark clouds here and there.

Neither bright day nor a moon-lit night, this tonight is deep dark night;

Bother me not beloved, fetch not Krishna, love backfired to hefty strike.

Many destinations, many paths but my path is unique;

The world is so holier 'n thou, the pang of heart is unique.

The path of love is unique, the sigh of love is unique. Embrace love.

Trust in divine song is one strength, a hope and a confidence.

Love and conviction on that one name: that saint is wise and devotee.

Yogis and sevdas are struggling, would all fall into death.

Only the ones with truth would dodge destruction, Dariya says.

Water is fathomless, water is boundless, How across it.

Unless one finds master who can row, one parishes amidst whirlpool.

Enough for today.

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Translated Discourses on Dariya:* Sanskrit Words Defined * 1 * 2 * 3 * 4&5 * 6 * 7 * 8 * 9 * 10 * 11