The
saloks of Sheikh Farid
Ji guide the seeker toward the devotion of the one absolute IkOankar (the Divine), which is the true purpose of life. In these saloks, Farid Ji shares that our time in this world is finite, and thus, one should immediately turn to the devotion of IkOankar without delay. However, due to attachment to transient things and relationships, many forget this truth and become entangled in vices, leading to a perpetually restless and uneasy life. However, the being who embraces virtues such as remembrance of IkOankar, love, humility, tolerance, patience, contentment, selfless service, and righteous living, experiences the bliss of connection with IkOankar even while leading a householder’s life. Their life becomes comfortable and peaceful.
dekhu pharīdā ju thīā dāṛī hoī bhūr.
agahu neṛā āiā pichā rahiā dūri.9.
-Guru Granth Sahib 1378
Commentary
Literal Translation
Interpretive Transcreation
Poetical Dimension
In the twenty-eighth stanza, Sheikh Farid says, My roti is of roasted barley and my hunger is its seasoning! Those who have eaten buttered roti will endure many sufferings. It is important to know that the five pillars of Islam all deal in some way with the body and the larger disciplines of life. There is, in some way, an emphasis on physical discipline in tandem with spiritual or internal discipline. Among the Sufis, there are various understandings of how one ought to consume food, but largely the idea is that consuming less and less indulgently is more spiritually beneficial. Some of the understanding around Ramadan and the fasting period also involves a more mindful approach to consumption and being less indulgent. It is almost as if Sheikh Farid encourages this approach every day, all year long. What he eats has become as hard as wood. There is no indulgence in his consumption.
What if we emulated this to some degree? When we are really hungry, we just eat what we have. We have no other option or desire—we do not seek particular flavors, and we end up better off, appreciating the food we have for its ability to sustain and nourish us. When we indulge too much, when we pursue the richness of certain flavors, we can become both internally and externally ill. We can become physically sick and also spiritually sick, unable to find satiation or satisfaction, and caught up in a snowballing pursuit of bigger and better tastes. This is true when we pursue delicacies, luxury, or any form of richness—we ultimately end up exploiting others and suffering. Will we begin to emulate Sheikh Farid’s approach to all things? Will we disentangle ourselves from our indulgence? Will we stop pursuing rich flavors, luxury, and delicacy? Will we find discipline and detachment, mindfulness and satiation?
