Longing, the Royal Path

Kabir describes longing as a sultan or emperor, because longing is the royal road to the Lord's home. The path to the Beloved is paved with sighs and tears. No one can keep indulging in worldly pleasures, clinging to material possessions and desires, and still hope to meet the Lord. The path to God-realization is a path of one-pointed love, and if there is such a love in the devotee's heart he will continue to suffer the pangs of separation till union is attained. In these couplets Kabir praises virah or longing, which is the precursor of the Beloved's grace and the steppingstone to ultimate union with Him.

 

Do not blame love's agony,
It is the sultan of all paths;
The heart not stirred with longing
Is a heart forever dead —
A burial ground.

 

K.G., p. 7:21

 

Kabir, shun worldly rejoicings,
Let your heart pine for Him and weep;
Without weeping how can you obtain
Union with your Love,
Your beloved Friend?

 

K.G., p. 7:27

 

Through laughing and rejoicing
You will not find
Your long-lost Husband —
Whoever found Him,
Found Him through tears and sighs;
If through merry-making
The Lord could be met,
Then who would remain
A luckless, lonely wife?

 

K.S.S., p. 37:19

 

You crave for union
With the Beloved,
And also covet
Comforts and joys;
Without the pain of labour
How can the wife
Ever experience
The transport
Of holding in her arms
A son?

 

K.S.S., p. 38:29

 

The pain of separation
Whispered to me:
Hold onto me with all your might
And I'll carry you to the bliss
Of the Beloved's lotus feet.

 

K.S.S., p. 40:53

 

The Father's beloved son
Tried to run and be with Him;
He put the sweets of greed
Into the son's hands —
The Father faded from his mind
As he became absorbed
In the sweets.

When he hurled the sweets away
He developed the deep pain
Of longing in his heart;
With tears, sobs and cries
He followed the Father's trail —
The son attained bliss
In the beloved Father's lap.

 

K.G., p. 8:31,32

 

If your longing were true
How could you stay alive
And for the Beloved not die?
Cease, O foolish one,
Cease to complain of your pain,
Do not put love to shame.

 

K.G., p. 8:36

 

The sky is on fire,
Raining embers live:
Kabir is burned
And turned into gold,
But as dead as lead
Remains the world.

 

K.S.S., p. 43:84

 

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