kabir

I've been having dinner parties again at my place. I love it. I invite my friends over every week for dinner and kirtan and we have fun. I make a couple of things--last week it was macaroni and cheese, and then some apple crisp--then people bring whatever they want to add to it. We had spinach and strawberry salad, a mixed vegetable salad, apple chutney, coconut chutney, sweet rice, and different juices to drink. Then a sweet little kirtan. But, mostly it's us sitting around the table talking, playing with the babies, seeing what everyone's been doing, how far the basement renovations have gotten, the newest healthy drinks, laughing, crying, and, for me, being thankful to be with such nice people. In our hustle bustle world, it's important to sit with friends and share some time with them. Ours is a personal philosophy in more ways than one.

Next week there's a Kabir Festival at Princeton University. Starts off with a film festival on Tuesday. On Wednesday, it's Prahlad Singh Tipanya, Musical Concert in Folk, Sufi, and Classical Styles. The films are on Tuesday, our regular dinner party night. So, I'm making chocolate cake to go! We think there will be food there, but, if not, I'll make brown bag dinners for anyone who want to meet us. I was surprised that some of my friends didn't know about Kabir. His poetry is so wonderful.

I was recently writing about poetry the other day to a devotee. For me, poetry often captures thoughts and feelings better than explanations. It's a lot like Sanskrit--writing about things that can't be explained, feelings that can't be transmitted, people you can't see, in a language that has multiple meanings. If it transports you, you've found it. If you don't get it, you don't get it. Our words aren't the thing, they're explanations used to capture that thing we're trying to express. Except, of course, words brought to us from Krsna, words that are Him--Radhe Syama!

I can't find my Bijak of Kabir, translated by Linda Hess--must still be in a box somewhere--but here are a couple of his poems I've gleaned from the Internet. These are from Poet Seekers.

My body and my mind...

My body and my mind are in depression because
You are not with me.
How much I love you and want you in my house!
When I hear people describe me as your bride
I look sideways ashamed,
because I know that far inside us we have never met.
Then what is this love of mine?
I don’t really care about food, I don’t really care about sleep,
I am restless indoors and outdoors.
The bride wants her lover as much as a thirsty man wants water.
And how will I find someone who will take a message
to the Guest from me?
How restless Kabir is all the time!
How much he wants to see the Guest!

The Bhakti Path

The bhakti path winds in a delicate way.
On this path there is no asking and no not asking.
The ego simply disappears the moment you touch him.
The joy of looking for him is so immense that you just dive in,
and coast around like a fish in the water.
If anyone needs a head, the lover leaps up to offer his.

Earthen Vessel

Within this earthen vessel are bowers and groves, and within it is the Creator:
Within this vessel are the seven oceans and the unnumbered stars.
The touchstone and the jewel-appraiser are within;
and within this vessel the Eternal soundeth, and the spring wells up.
Kabir says: "Listen to me, my Friend! My beloved Lord is within."

Secret

O HOW may I ever express that secret word?
O how can I say He is not like this, and He is like that?
If I say that He is within me, the universe is ashamed:
If I say that He is without me, it is falsehood.
He makes the inner and the outer worlds to be indivisibly one;
The conscious and the unconscious, both are His footstools.
He is neither manifest nor hidden, He is neither revealed nor unrevealed:
There are no words to tell that which He is.

Wake Up

Friends wake up
why do you go on sleeping?
The night is over--do you want to lose the day the same way?
Other women who managed to get up early
have already found an elephant or a jewel...
so much was lost already while you slept...
and that was so unnecessary.

The one who loves you understood, but you did not.
You forgot to make a place in your bed next to you.
Instead you spent your life playing.
In your twenties you did not grow
because you did not know who your Lord was.
Wake up! Wake up! There's no one in your bed--
He left you during the long night.

Kabir says: The only woman awake
is the woman who has heard the flute.

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