Through the month of
Vaisakh (mid-April to mid-May), Guru Arjan brings our attention to the deep and unspoken pain of disconnection from the One.
Message through the month of Vaisakh: How may the separated ones find patience, within whom is the separation of love? Guru Arjan, in the backdrop of a festive season, paints the condition of those who are unaware of their separation from the
Hari, a synonymous divine name highlighting the all-pervasive nature of
IkOankar (One Creative and Pervasive Force, 1Force, the One). Although the world around them celebrates the harvesting season, the hearts of the separated ones are in constant turmoil: impatience and unfulfillment ache within their hearts. The word used symbolizes the state of those who are separated—like a crop that has been harvested, cut off from its roots, leaving only the deep yearning for union. This separation leaves us feeling disconnected, wandering in search of the return of what seems to be lost. The joy of the season and the excitement in the air all hold little meaning for the heart that is separated from its true Source, IkOankar. In this state, perhaps in our desperation, we ground ourselves in
Maya (the allure to transient things and relationships). Material things make us temporarily oblivious to the pain, unaware that such an ache even exists. Caught up in the cycles of worldly life, we continue without ever even recognizing the barren land in which we have sown our lives. Our lives may seem to flow on in ignorance, and though we might catch fleeting glimpses of joy, it is temporary. We remain unaware of the deeper longing that stirs the hearts of those aware of the separation. We spend our time overly focused on the perishable, on things not within our control—on friends, family, and worldly attachments. We are surrounded by the fleeting joys of life, but the awareness of the imperishable One is nowhere in our consciousness. Bringing our focus back to the deeds, we are reminded that it is only the
Nam (Identification with IkOankar) that can cleanse and end this longing. Without it, we are robbed of our true purpose. We learn that it is not enough to engage in worldly actions that distract us from the One. Our deeds, when aligned with the One, are meant to bring us closer to the union, but when performed without remembrance of the One, they only deepen our forgetfulness. In the duality of this world, we are caught in the illusion of separation, but the solution lies in humbly submitting ourselves to the One. Guru Arjan invokes the synonymous divine name
Prabhu here, highlighting the sovereign and protective nature of the One. When we long for the sovereign One, through the Identification, we plead for a union that will uproot our misery from within. It is in this humble and whole submission—turning to the One with love and devotion—that our unsteadiness and reliance on temporary things withers away. In this way, the joy of Vaisakh is not merely a surface-level celebration but a true resonance of the inner union with the imperishable One. To make Vaisakh truly beautiful, it is not enough to engage in the external festivities. The true beauty of the season and of life lies in union with the One. Rituals, though may be important, hold no sway unless they are connected to the Identification. Social desirability, worldly status, and external practices are fleeting and cannot accompany us when we leave this world. What truly matters is the connection to the One who is eternal. Vaisakh, like every moment, is only truly beautiful when it is experienced in the presence of the creative and sovereign One. Guru Arjan teaches us that while the world around us celebrates, the longing of the separated ones remains, and it is only through union with the One that true joy can be found.
If our hearts seek this lasting celebration, what must we change within ourselves to align with that truth? In seeking the Beloved, are we willing to let go of what does not resonate on this journey? Can we trust that release is not a loss but an opening—an invitation for something deeper to take root? How do we discern what is essential and what is merely comfortable?