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 e visu gandalā dharīāṁ khanḍu livāṛi.
iki rāhede rahi gae iki rādhī gae ujāṛi.37.
-Guru Granth Sahib 1379
Commentary
Literal Translation
Interpretive Transcreation
Poetical Dimension
Calligraphy
In the thirty-seventh stanza, Sheikh Farid addresses himself and says O Farid! These sprouts of poison are placed, having been coated with sugar. All the things we engage with in this world—the material, our relationships, things we accumulate that are tangible and intangible, power and authority, and influence—all these things are like tiny seeds that we plant. We hope that when we engage with them and tend to them, they will blossom into something sweet. Often, however, these seeds are poisonous. They sprout only poison. They seem sweet at first, but that sweetness is surface-level. What does it mean for something to be poisonous? That which is poisonous is that which causes us to forget IkOankar (One Creative and Pervasive Force, 1Force, the One). That seed is poisonous, which was not sown honestly, through honest labor and means.
Sheikh Farid continues to speak about these seeds and sprouts and says, some become exhausted while sowing them; some, having uprooted the sown, went away. Some of us are so tied to this “field,” to the material world, that we cannot stop sowing these seeds of attachment. We think we have to do this to live—to find sweetness—but all this sowing only leaves us exhausted and dissatisfied. Others abandon the field altogether, choosing renunciation in hopes that it will bring us a different kind of sweetness, but this too does not bring us what we seek. Both the people who accumulate ceaselessly and the people who renounce worldly living end up in misery. We live in extremes, and we end up losing caught between polarities. We sow poison and we expect sweetness. Without remembrance, without devotion to IkOankar, we all waste our lives in vain. What are we reaping? What have we sown?
