This poem deals with manmukhs or men who follow the dictates of their own mind and are deeply engrossed in the affairs of the world. They plan their own methods of devotion or seek the guidance of scholars and intellectuals, who involve them in outward practices and promise heaven after death. But, says Kabir, disillusionment awaits them at the time of their death because the practices they undertake cannot dispel the fear and suffering at death nor what they have to face thereafter. Had they sought the company of Saints and adopted the inner path of spiritual practice under their guidance, they would have saved themselves from the misery of further births and deaths. Kabir declares that without the help of a perfect Master they can never gain liberation.

Those who put their trust
In paths laid down
By their own mind
Go to hell
And make hell their home;
They get no respite
From coming and going,
Morning and evening
They are the prey
Of the ruthless hunter, Kal.

They become proficient
In letters and sciences
But are not aware
Of their own impending death.
For others they draw rosy pictures
Of a happy afterlife;
When themselves faced with death
They shudder
With dread of the unknown.

They avoided the company of Saints
And took to vain pursuits;
Now on their heads
They carry a heavy load
And march towards hell.
Let all men and women know:

Averse to the Master,
Slaves of their own mind,
They'll revolve in the whirligig
Till the sun and moon
Cease to shine.

Bijak, Ramaini 43
Jin jiv keenha