>b>“The srutis—such as "That thou art" prove to thee thou art indeed That, devoid of adjuncts and the same in all. Why dost thou, who art the identity in all, grieve in thy heart?”
Simply know this: we are not body-mind
All manifestations are unreal
Simply be with pulse of bliss beats aligned
Ambling through life with boundless zest and zeal
As light that lights all lights, whose touch does heal
To get to this knowing simply be still
All voids within will in timeless time fill
What if on a pedestal tall?
As if date trees that tall are,
Shade to no travelling soul,
And hard to fetch, fruits grow far.
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Bada hua to kya hua, jaise lambi khajur,
Panthi ko chaya nahin, phala lage ati dur.
Forget, name and fame and rising tall. Lame adjuncts indeed, Kabeer says. How useful are you to others? That should be the aim in life. He gives an example of a date tree to substantiate his point. The tall and scanty foliage tree hardly gives any shade to the travelers, and the fruits when come they grow too high, and out of reach.
Business adjuncts realities curve
the agitation resting on pure nerve
so downcast that the rule of faith's un swerve
whereas but cowardice, the vestige serve!
As so the storing of the time's abrade
self-centered, the reliance follows trade
that backing off relents to corporate made
and humankind becomes the instrument's blade!
So propitious in its dealing's staid
the future, waft of trial, becomes enslave,
buying grandeur, exclusively on parade
with world control, commensurate with aid!
This timeless art, chicanery's mistrust brave
that warning's deafened forecast, rules the grave!
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