The
saloks of Sheikh Farid
Ji guide the seeker towards life’s true purpose, the devotion to the one absolute Divine, IkOankar. In these saloks, he reminds us that our time in this world is finite; therefore, one must turn to IkOankar without delay. Yet, attachment to transient possessions and relationships causes many to forget this truth, becoming entangled in vices that lead to restlessness and inner turmoil. In contrast, those who cultivate virtues such as love, humility, patience, contentment, selfless service, and righteousness experience the bliss of connection with IkOankar even while living a householder’s life. Their life becomes serene and suffused with inner joy.
pharīdā mai bholāvā pag dā matu mailī hoi jāi.
gahilā rūhu na jāṇaī siru bhī miṭī khāi.26.
-Guru Granth Sahib 1379
Commentary
Literal Translation
Interpretive Transcreation
Poetical Dimension
Calligraphy
In the twenty-sixth stanza, Sheikh Farid says, I had a delusion about my turban, lest it get dirty.
Sheikh Farid points us to the cultural and religious significance of the turban here. In Islam, there are two kinds of religious turbans one might wear—one for regular occasions, and one to denote humility on special occasions. In Islam, maintaining the turban is to maintain a sense of wholeness and dignity, as well as to distinguish the learned and pious Muslims. Sheikh Farid expresses concern about his turban, and by extension, worries about his externally perceived sense of honor and dignity. We all worry about this. How are we being perceived? What is the reputation we have made and continue to make for ourselves? Sheikh Farid fixates on this external perception of his honor and dignity through the physical turban. We, too, maintain particular markers of honor and dignity for others to take note of.
But, Sheikh Farid continues, the crazy ruh does not know, the dirt devours even the head. Ruh is the spirit or the soul in Islam—the essence of being. In our most internal sense, at the core of our very being, we do not understand that this external fixation is foolish. We have not realized or thought about the reality that in the end, the dirt will devour our entire heads, including the turban. Our fixation and worry over the external is fruitless. In our concern with external garbs and protocols, with other people’s assessments of our honor, dignity, and religiosity, we actually set ourselves up to be dishonored—we do not cultivate internal virtues and honor; we do not maintain our wholeness. We might look the part, clean on the outside, but are we clean on the inside? What are our virtues? What are our behaviors? What are our inner selves doing?
