About Sahar

I call him Lord

I call him God
I call him beloved too

They call me sage
They call me saint
They call me crooked too!!

(Translated from my collection of poems in Punjabi, ‘Acchoh Ehsaas’ (Untouched Emotions)

This is my complete story. For me, my beloved has been of foremost importance. I loved him, adored him, dedicated myself to him, but only in my heart; pain of unrequited love never left me alone. I did not have the right to hold his hands, never to say how much I loved him. Yet, in my deepest meditations, he was my idol. Aching, I asked the wisest of all,

Read my destiny O hermit
And tell me
When do I find my Love?

Love is the grace of God
And is found by Grace
Had I found my Love
    Why would I become a sage?  

I am in stranglehold of tradition
I can’t be a hermit even
If I do not find my Love
I won’t live a second

My relationship with his image (not a photograph), gave me a deep sense of peace. Sometimes he seemed to me Lord Shiva, sometimes Christ and sometimes Buddha! He made me one with myself.

TatvamAsi!

Thou are That!

I am That!

 

 

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