आग जलनी चाहिए — The Fire Must Burn

A post from a friend about a Malayalam movie, Amma Ariyan, forced me to confront what I had been trying to avoid for quite some time.

Like so many of us who live for the simple रोटी, कपड़ा, मकान and don’t want to be न किसी की तीन, न तेरह — ignorance, at times feigned, is an amazing cloak. It wraps you into a stupefaction, a sense of disbelief that even if “all izz not well,” it might just eventually be — and that when it does end well, all will automatically be well.

It is this meekness within you that covers your vision — rendering you unable to see things the way they are, or to come to terms with reality as it is.

Over time we tend to become so much like the courtiers in the Emperor’s New Clothes — muffling our conscience for a little bit of peace.

And then, when the curtain over our eyes is jerked out suddenly, you are ashamed of your wretchedness, of your own weakness. The world suddenly seems so raw and unvarnished — you now have to confront the sheer wantonness that is so ubiquitous, the squalor, the putrefaction of values, the sheer morbidness.

It is suffocating — how could one buy peace in such conditions? How can one come to terms with it?

It is disgusting, infuriating — you hate what’s around you, and also what you have become, buying scraps of peace with conscience as the currency. But now the price seems just too high.

And just when you are sort of drowning in this slough of despondency, Dushyant Kumar appears like an apparition — speaking words of revolution, of change. His words give warmth, they give hope, and most importantly, they give you a roadmap of how things could shift.

हो गई है पीर पर्वत-सी पिघलनी चाहिए,
इस हिमालय से कोई गंगा निकलनी चाहिए।

His short poem — ho gayi hai peer parvat-si… — is an anthem of revolution, of courage, of standing up, of not giving up.

आज यह दीवार, परदों की तरह हिलने लगी,
शर्त लेकिन थी कि ये बुनियाद हिलनी चाहिए।

This does not imply making a compromise with either the system or its stooges — maggots that have grown fat feeding off the lard of corruption, even as they dress up nobly and act saintly. The system needs to be dismantled. It needs to be overhauled.

हर सड़क पर, हर गली में, हर नगर, हर गाँव में,
हाथ लहराते हुए हर लाश चलनी चाहिए।

We need deep-seated change — a shift away from all the encumbrances that bind us down: caste, creed, language, religion. These compartmentalizations must be eviscerated. A system plagued by rampant inequity and steeped in corruption cannot, and must not, be allowed to beguile or misguide us any longer.

सिर्फ़ हंगामा खड़ा करना मेरा मक़सद नहीं,
मेरी कोशिश है कि ये सूरत बदलनी चाहिए।

Many times in the past there have been moments when people rose, only to retreat when confronted by the state. Silence is the price the system demands. And ironically, disquiet is the only way the system can be jolted. Whether it will change or shift, one can’t say — but that should not deter us from the objective.

मेरे सीने में नहीं तो तेरे सीने में सही,
हो कहीं भी आग, लेकिन आग जलनी चाहिए।

The only regret is that the bravado that comes with youth is often amiss elsewhere. Experience is a lousy teacher — it teaches only profit, ROI, benefit, survival. It does not concern itself with society, nation, or state; it prioritizes only self-preservation.

Little wonder, then, that it is the young who are at the front, leading the call for change — getting whacked, getting beaten, and yet persisting. It is they who give us hope of a possible breakthrough.

हो कहीं भी आग, लेकिन आग जलनी चाहिए।

Indeed, the fire must keep burning and consume all — so that something new can be created from the rubble. Something that belongs to all of us, and to which we, in turn, belong.

Here is the full poem – without break

हो गई है पीर पर्वत-सी पिघलनी चाहिए,
इस हिमालय से कोई गंगा निकलनी चाहिए।

आज यह दीवार, परदों की तरह हिलने लगी,
शर्त लेकिन थी कि ये बुनियाद हिलनी चाहिए।

हर सड़क पर, हर गली में, हर नगर, हर गाँव में,
हाथ लहराते हुए हर लाश चलनी चाहिए।

सिर्फ़ हंगामा खड़ा करना मेरा मक़सद नहीं,
मेरी कोशिश है कि ये सूरत बदलनी चाहिए।

मेरे सीने में नहीं तो तेरे सीने में सही,
हो कहीं भी आग, लेकिन आग जलनी चाहिए।

— Dushyant Kumar

The Guru’s Arrow – by Kabir

सतगुर लई कमाँण करि,
बाँहण लागा तीर।
एक जु बह्या प्रीति सूँ,
भीतरि रह्या सरीर।।

The satguru took up the bow, and let the arrows fly. But the one shot with love — that one stayed lodged within the body.

Finding a guru — or someone who opens up our inner consciousness — is a theme that repeats quite often in Kabir’s words. A life that has been untouched by the master almost seems worthless.

The ability to surrender abjectly in front of a person — to trust his words, his actions, his commands — to follow him — is a thought that seems so absurdly impossible. How can one surrender? How can the rational mind take a backseat? It seems impossible and implausible.

Yet, I have read about so many such accounts — of Narendranath Datta meeting Ramakrishna Paramhansa and surrendering before him and becoming Vivekananda. And then, of course, there is the mythic Neem Karoli Baba, and so many of his followers who were touched by him. Not to mention the stories of Sai Baba, who has become a deity from a person.

Coming back to Kabir — the doha talks about how when an accomplished teacher comes into our lives, it undergoes a complete transformation.

सतगुर लई कमाँण करि,

As soon as the teacher picks up the bow, this is also symbolic of how the teacher accepts the pupil — he decides to invest his actions in transforming the shishya. This act of acceptance is itself the first threshold. The moment we cross that —

बाँहण लागा तीर।

the arrows start flying. The process is on, and in certain ways, relentless. The guru is not looking at compartmentalisation — he will not solely focus on one aspect, say, like Dronacharya taught Arjun the skill of warfare. But he will go beyond. Everything is under the range of his bows and arrows; everything that he does will bring that change.

एक जु बह्या प्रीति सूँ,

But even in his quiver, there is this one specific arrow that truly stands out — that is love, or devotion. Whatever else one might do in life — in terms of learning, acquiring skills, gaining experience — it is only when one is touched by that sensation of divine, cosmic love that one truly understands the real meaning of existence, the purpose of life itself, the real concept of Brahman — the universal force. It is only through love and devotion that we can realise the god.

In short, a guru can be a transformative person — guiding you when you fail or falter — like Krishna, right in the middle of the battlefield, spelling out the course of action that must be undertaken, dispelling the doubts. But Krishna is unique. He is celestial, divine, friend, and also the guru — he is the arbiter, and the one to whom all our actions accumulate. When he declares — अहं ब्रह्मास्मि, “I am the universe” — it doesn’t seem like a claim, but merely an attestation of fact.

भीतरि रह्या सरीर।।

And now, when that arrow of love and devotion pierces through us, it embeds itself. It transforms. It does not leave us. This is the arrow that takes us down the road of realisation — toward union with the Brahman.

Every other arrow the guru shoots — knowledge, skill, discipline — does its work and is spent. Only this one stays lodged. Only this one keeps working on us after the guru has stopped teaching, after the lesson is long over.

Because this arrow does not just point outward, toward the Brahman. It turns us inward, first. We meet ourselves. And it is only by that route — through ourselves — that we meet our maker.