The Sonic Spectrum

If I had my way,
If I had my way,
If I had my way,
I would tear this 'ole building down!
-Rev. Gary Davis
  

Dear Friends:

The next spiritual giant I want to talk about is Kabir. Kabir lived in Banaras, India, in the 15th & 16th Centuries. There are a number of accounts regarding his actual date of birth, ranging from 1398 to 1440. Of these, the latter is more likely. However, most people agree that he died in 1518. Unlike Rumi, who grew up in an essentially Moslem country, Kabir's homeland was divided. It was predominantly Hindu, but the Moslem invasions - which essentially took place in the 11th - 16th Centuries, culminating in the conquest of Delhi by Zakir-un-din ("Babur") in 1526 - installed an Islamic ruling class which governed until the mid-19th Century.

The influence of Islam on India, Kabir and the formation of contemporary Shabd Yoga theory cannot be overemphasized. It countered a diffused, pantheistic Hindu socio-religious structure with a very intense conviction of monotheism. It also rejected the Indian caste system and idol worship in favor of all souls being equal, and personal salvation being achieved through one who is directly connected with the Divine Power.

Moreover, the merchant caravans running from Persia and Turkey to India brought with them Sufi mystics, some of whom were undoubtedly spiritual descendants (successors?) of Jellaluddin Rumi. The Sufi emphasis on soul transcendence and direct personal mergence with the Divine through the agency of the Holy Word and a Living Adept were to have a revolutionary impact on Indian thought, culture and spirituality. By the time of Kabir's birth - a century-and-a-half after Mulana Rumi's death in 1273 - India, especially the Brahmin culture, had become very much saturated in the dye of Sufi thought. Indeed, there are reports (one mentioned in Annemarie Schimmel's classic treatise on Rumi, I Am Wind, You Are Fire, that Brahmins in Bengal had memorized much of the Mathnawi and recited it often.

There are so many things to say about Kabir. I'm not sure where to begin. He was definitely an iconoclast. As I noted above, growing up in a divided - Hindu and Moslem - culture which was often at odds with itself, he didn't have the luxury Rumi had of teaching the way of the Eternal to an essentially homogenous society. As a result, his poetry - while very bit as profound and transcendental - is quite different from Rumi's. It lacks some of the grace and overt beauty - the almost cosmically romantic intoxication with the Divine, the Beloved and the Friend - of Rumi's masterworks. It is more didactic, angular and stern, in a mode of lecturing both Hindu and Moslem society about the nature of real truth. It is a sword that cleaves through the nearly countless veils of illusion to allow the Pure Light and Sound of the True Reality to shine through.

In writing this it occurs to me that both Rumi and Kabir composed their poetry while spinning. In Rumi's case, it was while doing the Dervish twirl. In Kabir's, it was while working at his spinning wheel and weaver's loom.

Lord, I am the weaver of Thy Name;
I weave and reap the profit 
Of inner rapport with Thee.
I weave the cloth of Thy Name, O Lord.
I have firmly strung my loom 
With ten hundred threads;
The sun and moon
I hold as my witness.
Endlessly I count Thy Nam
And take it as my wages;
I gently deposit it
Within the lotus of my heart.
I am the weaver of Thy Name.
Surat and nirat are the two pegs
That hold the frame of my loom;
Thus I weave with care and discernment
The cloth of Thy name.
  

Kabir's low caste, Moslem background undoubtedly influenced his way of expressing the spiritual path. For starters, he had to use trickery in order to be initiated into the Holy Path of Naam. Even though he was essentially born a Sant Satguru, Kabir knew he had to supplicate himself to another guru in order to have the inner door to Sat Lok and beyond open. So he sought an audience with the highly respected local sage, Ramanand (a bhakti saint who laid stress upon the name of Ram). Ramanand, who was a Brahmin by birth, would have nothing to do with a young man (Kabir was still in his teens) who was not only a Moslem, but a low caste one - a weaver! - at that.

Kabir gave this situation some thought, and came up with a plan. He had noticed that Ramanand took a certain path from his house to the Ganges River to bathe in the early morning. One morning, Kabir hid himself by the path with only his head exposed (apocryphal stories say he turned himself into a small child). As Ramanand was walking down the path he accidentally kicked Kabir in the head with his bare feet and jumped up and down shouting "Ram! Ram!" Kabir waited until he disappeared from site and then made his way back home. That afternoon, when Ramanand was giving satsang, Kabir showed up to join the other satsangis. When Ramanand demanded to know what he was doing there - hadn't he already been banned? - Kabir replied that the sage had given him holy initiation that very morning, that he had given him the name "Ram" as his mantra. Though he had been tricked, Ramanand couldn't argue with this, and (begrudgingly at first, no doubt) welcomed him as a chela.

This was just a taste of things to come, for Kabir was a champion button-pusher. He would often combine the garb of both Hindu and Moslem societies, say the traditional peasant weaver wardrobe mixed with the third eye tilich and sacred thread of the Brahmins. Needless to say, such actions didn't exactly endear him with members of either society. Even more incendiary was his classic statement, "I am neither Hindu nor Moslem." Such outspokenness put his life in jeopardy more than once, not unlike Jesus' taunting of the Sadducees and Pharisees, and overturning of the moneychangers' tables in the Jerusalem temple.

The pundits are deluded
Through reading and studying the Vedas;
They know not the secret
Of their own self

Evening prayers, chanting
And the six deeds of piety
They perform and preach,
And consider them the essence
Of true religion.

During each of the four ages,
O Pundit, men kept chanting
The prescribed holy mantras;
Go and ask them, who
Has earned liberation this way?

If touches by others
You rush to wash your body,
But tell me, pray,
Who is lower than you?

Of your holy and pious acts
You are vain and boastful;
But pride opens the doors to doom.
The One who loves the humble,
How will He tolerate your pride, O Pundit?

Those who give up pride of status and lineage
And search for the abode of the Pure One,
They destroy the shoot, even the seed, of karma,
And while yet in the body, transcend its bounds.
  

Kabir, like Jesus, had no use for outward shows of piety. They were just manifestations of spiritual vanity as far as he was concerned, possibly the worst of the five passions due to its subtlety and propensity for seducing otherwise sincere people. Using the arrow of his pen, he constantly popped the inflated egos of the local religious bigwigs, Hindu and Moslem both.

It would be a mistake here, however, to attribute Kabir's attacks on the caste system and religious bigotry as being the work of one trying to reform Indian society. Though millions of Indians today venerate him as being one of the shining lights of inspiration for a caste-free society (he is also one of the most widely recited poets in that country), social reform - temporal utopia, if you will - was not his primary objective. He knew - and stated often - that this world, and all of the regions from the mental plane down, was in the domain of Kal and Maya, as it had always been and would always be.

In every home burns a lamp,
But you do not see it, you are blind.
Keep trying to see;
By and by you will behold it
And be free of Yama's noose.
In every home burns a lamp.
It is not a matter of eloquence,
Nor of listening, or of ritual acts;
In order to behold it
You have to die while living,
And then you'll never die again.
In every home burns a lam.
The yogis suffer separation,
For they imagine the Lord lives
Far off, in some remote land;
The Lord is close by, O yogi,
Yet you climb a date palm
In search of Him.
In every home burns a lamp.
The priests roam from door to door
Initiating men into their faith;

The panacea is within
But they teach men to nurture stones.
In every home burns a lamp.
Neither yoga, nor chanting,
Neither piety, nor vice
Is the way to win his heart;
Says Kabir the slave,
Such is my winsome Lord.
  

In fact, he frequently directed his arrows at those who promoted themselves as avatars promising terrestrial, astral or causal paradise. These beings, he said, even if they actually were incarnations of Brahma, Vishnu or Shiva, were also blinded by the illusion of the Negative Power. In his epic work, the Anaurag Sagar (Ocean of Love), he goes on at length describing how Kal petitioned Sat Naam for a domain of his own, how he was given the consort, Maya, with whom to co-rule the lower worlds, and how they had three children - Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva - who themselves were under the illusion that their father was the Supreme Reality and unknowable. Thus, he stated, anyone promising cosmic consciousness, unity with the Brahman, etc., was also under the illusion of Kal and Maya.

In order to attain the Lord
Men, like clowns, adopt different garbs;
They wear ochre robes,
They smear their body with ash.
A frog living in the holy river Ganges
Will not attain salvation.
Without himself realizing the Lord.
Man can never be liberated.

O deluded one, give up your base cravings,
Repeat the Lord's Name - 
This is my counsel, good friend.
Kabir the weaver submits:
The Lord's Name alone will lead you 
To the high state,
Free from fear,
Full of bliss.
  

Kabir said that it is only through the agency of a Satguru - one who is united with Sat Purush - who can link the individual with the Shabd (the single Light and Sound Current emanating from the Pure Spiritual Regions) that one can transcend the illusions of mind and achieve spiritual liberation. His poems are replete with invocations to hold fast to the rope of Naam, to have total faith and trust in the Satguru. In Anaurag Sagar, Kal beseeches Sat Naam to give him a way of countering the overwhelming power of the Satguru - here personified by Kabir. Sat Naam grants Kal the boon of being able to manifest himself as a myriad of teachers, healers, prophets, messiahs etc. - to, in effect, use his house of mirrors to create a thousand reflections of the True Light, so that people here wouldn't know where to turn.

The first wise (Kal) is not the Wise One;
The second wise (Brahma) no one knows;
The third wise (mind) preys on the Wise (Soul);
The fourth wise (karma) drives the Soul from place to place;
The fifth wise (Soul) none is aware of;
The sixth wise (Maya) beguiles one and all.
If you know the seventh Wise
You will see Him in the entire creation;
You will know the One
All Vedas and scriptures point towards.

As the treasure map leads
To the secret of hidden treasure,
So does Shabd reveal the Lord;
But only a rare one knows it.
  

This is the primary reason for Kabir's repeated attacks on brahmins and fakirs, and religious dogma of all sorts. Anticipating Sant Kirpal Singh Ji Maharaj centuries later, Kabir also stated, in effect, that God made man, and man made religion. All religious quarrels and dogma are not only silly, they are also counter productive. The only real religion is that of God, Soul and Divine Spirit - Father, Son & Holy Ghost - Creator, Created and Creative Power. It's all the same thing.

Apply yourself, O friend,
To the practice of Shabd - 
The Shabd from which even
The creator came into being;
Imprint that Shabd
In your heart, O friend.

The Vedas and scriptures
Extol the merits of Shabd -
The Shabd that sustains
All shabds in the world.
Men, sages and gods
Sing its praises
Yet its mystery they know not.
Imprint that Shabd
In your heart, O friend.

Shabd is the Master,
And listening to Shabd
One becomes a disciple;
But rare are they who know
The true meaning of Shabd.
Shabd is the real Master,
Shabd is the disciple's soul too;
One he knows this 
Who goes within
And realizes the Shabd.
Imprint that Shabd
In your heart, O friend.

Between Shabd and shabd
There is a vast difference;
Churn the primal Shabd
And realize the Truth, O friend.
Who does not taste
This true Shabd,
His life, O Kabir,
His achievements,
Are all a waste.
and
The six philosophies elaborate on Shabd
But he who hears Shabd itself
Becomes truly desireless.
  

Each of us is endowed by our Eternal Creator with the capacity for self-realization, God-realization and spiritual freedom within this lifetime. It doesn't require belonging to a particular church or spiritual path. It doesn't require a particular diet, wardrobe, penances, yogic postures, pilgrimages to holy places, etc. All which is required is finding a living human being who is an open, conscious, loving instrument for the expression the Divine Shabd Power, who can link us with that Power, and teach us how to harmonize our attention with It. Then we just take time every day - regardless of our country, job, home, etc. - to sit and place our attention at the seat of the Soul (the Tisra Til or Third Eye), awaken to the Inner Sound and Light, and follow It back to Its - and our - Source: Sat Naam and the Ocean of Love and Mercy, Anami Lok.

That's all for now. Next month we will take a look at Kabir's contemporary - and, some say, successor - Guru Nanak. Until then...

Baraka Bashad!

I have found the true Name,
It is always with me
Like a string of pearls around my neck.
I now repose in the narrow litter of the palanquin
Whose five bearers have become feeble.
My Master has given me the key to the unyielding lock;
Whenever I like I open the door:
Dressed in the dancing costume of love,
I enter the inner regions whenever I please
And I dance, and dance in ecstasy.
Says Kabir: Listen, friends,
I'll not come to this city again.
  

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This page was last updated at 1:55 pm on April 2, 1996

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