‘Whatever My Hands Did Was Worship’

The Way

Everyone pierces the hide of cattle
With awareness.
Everyone pierces the hide of cattle
In forgetfulness.
But I pierce the hide
Of dead cattle.
I cut away the hide
And the truthful ones put sandals on
I expect them to show me
Emptiness.
Take your paths, all of you
Mine is the path
Of the master of lust, dust and smoke.
That is enough for me.

(Dhoolaiah, the cobbler: H. S. Shivaprakash)

Here I come, a ferryman without a body
To the great flowing river
If you pay the price—
Your mind
That grasps and lets go,
I shall take you across
The great stream
To the end,
To the village
Without words or limits,
Says Chowdaiah, the ferryman.

(Chowdaiah, the ferryman: H. S. Shivaprakash)

Plow the field with true faith.
Sow the seed of love, water it with patience,
and pull out falsehood’s weeds.
Look into yourself,
build a fence with virtue.
Stand rooted in the right path —
Harvest the state of Siva!

(Appar: Indira Viswanathan Peterson)

I’ve never known how to tan or sew,
though people come to me for shoes.
I haven’t the needle to make the holes
or even the tool to cut the thread.
Others stitch and know, and tie themselves in knots
while I, who do not knot, break free.
I keep saying Ram and Ram, says Ravidas,
and Death keeps his business to himself.

(Ravidas: John Stratton Hawley and Mark Juergensmeyer)

Until you wake up to what you really are
You’ll be like the man who searches the whole jungle
for a jewel that hangs at his throat.
Oil, wick and fire: until they mingle in a cruse
they scarcely produce any light,
So how can you expect to dissipate the darkness
simply by talking about lamps?
You’re the sort of fool who sees your face
in a mirror, befouled by inky filth,
And proceeds to try to erase the blackness
by cleaning the reflection to a shine.
Surdas says, it’s only now the mind can see—
now that so countless many days are lost and gone—
For who has ever recognized the brilliance of the sun
but by seeing it through eyes gone blind?

(Surdas: John Stratton Hawley and Mark Juergensmeyer)

Your waist slender,
swathed in soft vermilion silk
your breasts heavy
with streaming garlands of pearl
your dark tresses woven
with fragrant jasmine, pursued
by clouds
of maddened bees.

It’s enough
to sit alone
and gaze at you
three-eyed Goddess.
Who needs to go meditate?

(Abhirami Bhattar: Arundhathi Subramaniam)

The Master Weaver

You haven’t puzzled out
any of the Weaver’s secrets:
it took Him
a mere moment
to stretch out the whole universe
on His loom.

While you were there,
listening
to the Vedas and Puranas,
I was here,
spreading out
the threads for my warp.

He fashioned His loom
out of earth and sky:
He plied the sun and moon
simultaneously
as his twin shuttles.

When He worked the pair
of treadles in the pit below
in tandem,
I acknowledged Him
in my mind
as a master weaver.

I found His signs,
The signs of a weaver,
inside my house:
in a flash
I recognized Him
as Rama.

Kabir says, I’ve smashed
my loom:
only the Weaver
can mesh
thread with thread.

(Kabir: Vinay Dharwadker)

Whatever my hands did was worship,
whatever my tongue shaped was prayer.
That was Shiva’s secret teaching:
I wore it and it became my skin

(Lal Ded: Ranjit Hoskote)

Whirl around yourself
And the world
Seems to whirl
Around you

Stand still
And everything
Is stilled
Within a vast stillness

Yell
And echoes will ring
Says Tuka —
When clouds race
The moon seems to run

(Tukaram: Dilip Chitre)