Bullhe Shah’s personal belongings at his Mazār. Qasur.
Photo
by Akram Varraich. September 2007.
Born in 1680, Bullhe
Shah lived mostly in the town of
Qasur
where he had received traditional education before he became affiliated
to Shah Ināyat Qadiri of
Lahore
as his murshid. Bullhe Shah’s mazār in Qasur became
a place of pilgrimage after his death. However, he is better known as a
poet, perhaps the best Sufi poet of the
Punjab
. He wrote in several popular forms of Punjabi poetry, notably the kāfi.
A number of his kāfis are sung even today by qawwāls. His
works reflect his learning, his mystical experience, and something of
the life around him. Apart from the uprising of the Khalsa under the
leadership of Banda Bahadur in the reign of Bahadur Shah and the
political activity of the Khalsa during the governorship of Zakariya
Khan and Muin ul-Mulk, Afghan rule was established over the
Punjab
in the 1750s. The Durrani commanders were ousted from the region by the
Marathas, with the much too willing support of the Sikhs, in 1758, the
year of Bullhe Shah’s death. Living thus in a period of political
turmoil, he appears to allude to an unsettled state of things in his
works.
Bullhe Shah uses the phrase prem nagar (the city of love) at
several places in his works, and at one place he uses the phrase sulh-i
kul. An ideal city of universal peace, suggested by these phrases, can
be appreciated in the context of his entire corpus. In the sections
which follow, we take up first how Bullhe Shah has been viewed recently
by two eminent scholars. Then we turn to his works other than the kāfis.
The dominant ideas, moods and attitudes of Bullhe Shah’s kāfis
are taken up in a separate section before turning to his social comment
in another. In the last section we refer to Bullhe Shah’s popular kāfis.
All these sections are meant to contribute to our appreciation of his
‘ideal city of universal peace’ in relation to his whole thought.
II
In his History of
Panjabi Literature, Sant Singh Sekhon devotes a short but separate
chapter to Bullhe Shah. He refers to Lajwanti Ramkrishna’s observation
that Bullhe Shah’s mysticism passed through three stages. The first
stage was the time of his discipleship with Shah Ināyat. Dominant
in his thought at this stage were the discipline of the shari’at and
the ideas of orthodox Islam. Frequent references to hell and heaven and
the fear of death align him with Shaikh Farid. At this first stage
Bullhe Shah does not accept the doctrine of transmigration. This gives
the wrong impression that he came to accept this doctrine at some later
stage. Sekhon goes on to comment that the first stage was brief and,
therefore, Bullhe Shah’s ideas and attitudes of this phase do not
figure much in his works. 1
Sekhon goes on the second stage in which the influence of the
Indian philosophy of Vedanta is in evidence, and Bullhe Shah seems to
experience the warmth of the Divine but he does not claim a state of
identity with God even at this stage. It is doubtful, however, that
Bullhe Shah’s position can be called Vedantic at any stage. According
to Rama Krishna, Bullhe Shah’s mysticism was at the height of its
beauty in the third stage. He was different now from all the other
Sufis. Punjabi or Indian, and equally different from all the Vaishnava
bhaktas. Claiming complete identity with God, he declares to have
attained to Him in all His mystery. Sekhon notices here a certain degree
of similarity with Shah Husain. It does not occur to Sekhon that Rama
Krishna chees not adduce any evidence
in support of her idea that the three ‘stages’ were
chronological.
Sekhon goes on to point to out that Bullhe Shah did not write
only kāfis; he used also the forms known as the ‘twelve-month’
(baramaha) and the ‘week’ (athwara). The tone and text
of his Athwara is the same as that of his kāfis: a clear
condemnation of established religion, both Islam and Hinduism. Nothing
is said about the Baramaha.
Sekhon observes that the theme of Punjabi Sufi poetry is a
variation on the theme of Indian bhakti ‘as if it were bhakti in the
guise of Islam’. This should not be taken to mean that Indian Sufism
was a product of interaction between Indian bhakti and Islam.
Nevertheless, the influence of Indian bhakti on the Punjabi Sufi poetry
became important later, and it is reflected in Bullhe Shah’s poetry.
Bullhe Shah felt anguish at the conflict between the Sikhs and the
Mughal government which had produced extremely unsettled conditions in
the country. In this connection, Sekhon equates the ‘rug-wearers’ of
Bullhe Shah with the Sikh rulers. Bullhe Shah’s Sufism appears to
betray ‘defeatist tendencies’ perhaps because of ‘the decline of
Muslim Mughal power’. His sympathies were with ‘the losing Muslim
side’ and he regarded this situation as a ‘decline of society’.
However the Sikhs established their rule in the
Punjab
after Bullhe Shah’s death. Ahmad Shah Abdali was apparently dominant
even in the early 1760s. Therefore, the ‘Muslim side’ had not yet
last power.
Sekhon suggests that the symbol for the beloved in Bullhe
Shah’s poetry has three levels. The first is the level of Gurbani in
which the symbol of conjugal love is dominant. The second is the level
of the romantic worldly love in which the ‘spouse’ is replaced by
the ‘friend’. The third is symbolism of Heer and Ranjha, which has
been used by Bullhe Shah even more fully than by Shah Husain. We may
agree with Sekhon that allusions to the love of Heer and Ranjha are very
frequent in Bullhe Shah. This, however, is a difference only of degree.
‘One phenomenon that is found in Bullhe Shah more than in all other
Sufis is the substitution of his personal preceptor for Allah or the
Prophet’. Sekhon can say this because he has not given much serious
attention to Sultan Bahu. For Sekhon, a ‘strange feature’ of Sufi
lore is a constant reference to the ordeals that the prophets of the Old
Testament had to undergo to find acceptance with God. This feature is
only seemingly ‘strange’. These prophets were the prophets of the
Qur’an too, and their ordeals integrated well with Bullhe Shah’s
conception of God and his relationship with human beings. Sekhon points
out that Bullhe Shah used the Hindu symbols of God, especially
Krishna
, quite frequently. Bullhe Shah is by no means exceptional in this
respect.
Denis Matringe has looked at the poetry of Bullhe Shah to
illustrate that transference of themes and symbols from one religious
sphere to another was a common phenomenon in
South Asia
. Accepting W.H. McLeod’s formulation, he cites the example of the
Sikh movement in this connection. He states on his own that some of the
Sufis were inclined to adjust Islam to its Indian environment. They
developed a tradition of Punjabi poetry with deeply rooted in local
culture. This culture included a number of Hindu traditions. Borrowings
from this source are exemplified in the poetry of Bullhe Shah in the
form of Krishnaite and Nath elements in his poetry. Matringe is aware of
the opposing views taken of this issue. Some scholars think that Bullhe
Shah was more of an advaita Vedantist than a Sufi, while others have
given a strict orthodox Muslim interpretation of his works. Therefore,
it was relevant for Matringe to examine how these elements contribute to
the formulation of Bullhe Shah’s mystical message. 3
According to Matringe, some verses of Bullhe Shah advocate
devotion to
Krishna
as opposed to Vedic ritualism, indicating the superiority of inner
faith. However, the line quoted refers to Hari, an epithet for God, and
Matringe tends to assume that this is a reference to
Krishna
. In another verse, however, there is an explicit reference to ‘the
flute of Kahn’. It certainly refers to
Krishna
. However, the flute-player is also the Chak Ranjha. This would equate
Krishna
with Ranjha and suggest that both these are epithets for Bullhe Shah’s
God. Matringe translates ‘chak’ as ‘cowherd’, which is
misleading. The other verses quoted by Matringe do not refer explicitly
to
Krishna
. Nevertheless, Matringe sees parallels between the gopis and the
Punjabi girls who are fetching water in full adornment, whose scandal is
spreading, and who do not care and continue to dance. However, the dance
in abandon was emphasized by Shah Husain, and there is absolutely no
doubt that Bullhe Shah was familiar with the kāfis of Shah Husain.
Bullhe Shah’s God is ‘mischievous’: he hides himself in the way
Krishna
did after dancing with the gopis to be found again. God is a hidden
thief. However, the Sufi idea of veils over the Reality and of God as
the ‘hidden treasure’ are equally relevant here. Matringe takes ‘māhi’
literally to be the ‘cowherd’, but it comments the beloved Bullhe
Shah’s depiction of the pangs of separation appear to be the pangs of
the gopis ‘in Persianized style’. In another verse in the female
voice ‘I shall write letters to Sham’ is perceived by Matringe as
symbolic of the letter which Radha thinks of writing to
Krishna
. 4 Though plausible,
the use of all these verses by Matringe does not make a convincing case
for the concept of transference.
Significantly, the seeker in despair takes the garb of a jogan
(female ascetic). This, according to Matringe, opens the way to
recurrent instance of Nath symbols in Bullhe Shah’s poetry. God is the
supreme jogi for whom the jogan is longing, and she renounces the world
in quest of God: ‘I shall go with the yogi, having put a tilak on my
forehead’. The manifestations of love are described in terms related
to the Persian images of the ‘fire of love’. In such descriptions,
Matringe perceives the terrible powers of the jogis. A similar imagery
is used in this poem for the drastic austerity of the jogan. Then there
are symbols expressing the extreme hardship of the path which leads the
mystic to God. Suffering is the prerequisite of spiritual bliss through
divine grace: ‘Ranjha has come, having made himself a yogi’.
Actually, this verse carries the import that God has come in the form of
Ranjha and Heer has vowed as a jogan to serve him. Matringe himself says
that there is a fundamental difference between the Punjabi Sufi kāfi
and the shabads of Gorakhnath. The loving devotion is present only in
Bullhe Shah’s poetry. All
that concerns the jogi of Bullhe Shah is linked with a relationship of
love that is alien to Nath Shaivism. Matringe himself notices that the
jogi of Bullhe Shah is a manifestation of God: ‘O, this is not a yogi,
but a manifestation of Lord. The garb of a yogi fits him well’. 5
There is hardly any doubt that the Nath elements in Bullhe Shah’s
poetry are mediated largely through the popular tradition of Ranjha as a
jogi.
Matringe goes on to state that, being transcendent and immanent
at the same time, God can be found everywhere and in everybody. He can
be
Krishna
and the jogi, the thief and the banker, the mosque and the temple, the
Muslim and the Hindu, the lover and the beloved, and so on. This
conception of God leads Bullhe Shah to reject the diversity of the
constituted religions: ‘I am neither a Hindu nor a Muslim’. The
difference between a ‘Ramdas’ and a ‘Fateh Muhammad’ vanishes
when the same God is seen within both. The realization of identification
of human beings with God annihilates the individual self and merges it
with Him. Matringe thinks that Bullhe Shah’s position here is similar
to that of the Sants, who attached great importance to loving devotion
and renunciation. Matringe goes on to add that the
Krishna
and Nath traditions provided Bullhe Shah with an imagery from which he
derived symbols to express the various states and emotions of the
mystical experience. No Punjabi Sufi poet before him had integrated
Hindu elements in his poetry to the same extent. Indeed, the synthesis
of Krishnaite and Nath elements his case operated chiefly through his
use of the legend of Heer and Ranjha, which was by far the main source
of his allusions. In the first part of the legend, Ranjha remains a
Krishnaite figure for Matringe. In the second part, he is a wandering
Nath jogi. It is in this sense that, in the story of Heer and Ranjha,
the Krishnaite and Nath elements in Bullhe Shah’s poetry reflect
‘the composite and often syncretic nature of the Panjabi popular
culture’. He paid attention to the cultural universe of the common
people of the
Punjab
whom he addressed through his kāfis. His great originality lies in
his ability to combine these symbols with others taken from Arabic and
Persian culture ‘in order to express his approach to that sublime
point where all religion meet’.6 As we noticed earlier, the Nath
elements were mediated through the legend of Heer and Ranjha which was
brought to the centre of the stage by Shah Husain. The Krishnaite
elements could partly be a reflection of the increasing popularity of
Krishna in the
Punjab
since the time of Shah Husain. In any case, the elements perceived by
Matringe as Krishnaite and Nath can be better appreciated in the context
of a comprehensive interpretation of the poetry of Bullhe Shah.
III
Apart from the kāfi,
the athwara and the baramaha, Bullhe Shah used the popular forms of gandhan,
siharfi and dohra. The Athwara of Bullhe Shah starts with
Saturday and ends with Friday, depicting basically what may be called a
spiritual journey from the state of separation to the state of union. In
the pangs of separation from the dear one (piara) begins the
quest on Saturday. On Sunday, prayer is made to Shah Ināyat
for instructions to end the time of separation. On Monday comes the
realization that the friend (yar) himself is ‘killer of the
dead’: he inflicts suffering on those who are prepared to die for
love. On Tuesday comes the hope that he might respond to console the
lover in her plight. On Wednesday, the acceptance of suffering becomes
the basis of meeting with the friend. On Thursday, she finds the cup
that intoxicates and makes her oblivious of the difference between the
essence and attributes. On Friday, she becomes a sohagan. She
adorns herself to meet the beloved (piya). Friday, thus, is
different. The sight of the beloved shows the futility of the knowledge
of the law, and the tradition, and the obligatory practices of Islam,
and logic. Heer longs for Ranjha, crying ‘māhi, māhi’.
Friday, the day of the large congregational prayer in the mosque for the
faithful, is the day of union is the lover of God. 7
Bullhe Shah’s Baramaha starts with the month of Assu and ends
with the month of Bhadon. The starting point is the state of separation,
marked by suffering and the beginning of quest for the dear one in
‘the city of love’. In Kattak, the forlorn woman prays for union.
She has cultivated love for long and it is hard to live without the
spouse. In Maghar, the demon of love is still eating her bones. She
would be a slave to anyone who brings home the beloved (lal). If
anyone brings the friend (yar) she would get relief from anguish,
like the sati who is asked to get down from the pyre. In Poh, she is
still ‘dead in life’ and waiting for the spouse (shauh). In
Phaggan, tears flow from her eyes due to the wounds of love; her
suffering was preordained and this is how she is celebrating the holi.
In Chet, she has lost her self and yet she is nowhere nearer the friend.
Hard is the day of Baisakhi if the friend is not with her. They
whose spouses are with them are exhilarated but she is downcast without
her spouse. Hot winds blow in Jeth but the spouse is not there. The fire
of love is ablaze in Har, and the messengers have carried letters to
Sham; her dark hair have turned grey now, and it is hard to pass time
without the spouse. The love-bird cries in Sāwan, the young men
play and the young girls sing; God has fulfilled her hopes and she has
found Shah Ināyat.
Bhādon is pleasant if one spends each moment with the spouse. To
her good fortune, the master has come. Shah Ināyat
has shown to her that God is in everyone. She is drenched in love and
God’s will has come to prevail. 8
Love, the pangs of separation, and the bliss of union are the
themes on which Bullhe Shah dwells in his Athwara and Baramaha. In the
genre called gandhan, he takes up the theme of wedding. The term gandhān
was used in Bullhe Shah’s time for invitations sent to relatives for
the occasion. In Bullhe Shah’s composition, the bride herself sends
forty invitations, expressing her feeling or state of mind in each. In
the first gandh she thinks of preparing the dowry but she has no
cash. In the second gandh she says that she cannot spin. In the third,
she regrets that she has no merit. In the fourth, she is afraid that her
father would send her away. Bullhe Shah goes on to say in the gandhs
following that the young girl is afraid of the first night because
little time is left for preparing the dowry. The guests have come and
she is in tears. She wants to know in despair if any friend would
accompany her. She is like the fish out of water. She feels that it
would have been better if her mother had poisoned her at her birth. She
is frightened for her life now. Her friends have gone and it is her turn
to go to the marital home from which no one returns.
The kins have left before her but no one tells her where they
have gone. She has to go the
city of the silent. Human life is like the begging round of a jogi;
ultimately one has to lie in the saline earth. The drums of departure
are being sounded. Tears flow from her eyes like rain from the clouds of
Sāwan. She has to go far with a heavy load on her head. With one
hank in her hand she is thinking of weaving the cloth for dowry. Only
the fortunate ones dye the cloth they have prepared.
At last she thinks of love. The spouse comes closer. Love now has
made her mad. She would feel relieved if the beloved enters her lane;
she has to charm him. She has adorned herself and made herself soft to
the touch. He might embrace her. Auspicious in the moment when he turns
towards her. On meeting him she sings in ecstasy. The thirtyninth gandh
is opened by all her female friends; Shah Ināyat
shall now come to the bridal bed; her whole frame is dyed in love. The
fortieth gandh reveals that the essence of love is to lose
one’s own self. She likes the spouse coming with the marriage party so
that she may become one with him. Say ‘God willing’ now, and pray
for me. She is no more there: only the Beloved is there. 9
The wedding stands for death and union. Good deeds are not adequate as
dowry. What is required for union is the dowry of love, dedication and
sacrifice. Bullhe Shah’s preference for the path of love is loud and
clear in his Gandhan.
In a Siharfi, using letters of the Perso-Arabic alphabet as the
device for expressing his feelings and moods, Bullhe Shah talks of the
refuge at the feet of the Prophet, the only effective intercessor on the
day of judgement. He also refers to the Prophet’s ascension when he
saw God face to face. He is the seal of the prophets. His pure form is
brighter than the sun and the moon. To associate oneself with him is to
follow the right path: ‘there is no god but Allah and Muhammad is His
messenger’. Bullhe Shah refers to the Quranic myth about Adam and
Hawwa and the Satan, and the role of the Prophet Muhammad in redeeming
humankind and interceding on the last day. His grace relieves his
followers from the suffering of the grave and helps them in crossing the
narrow bridge (pul-i sirāt) to have the sight of God in
Paradise
. Bullhe Shah tells people to appropriate the Prophet’s door. However,
even in this Siharfi, Bullhe Shah dwells on the immanence of God who is
the only Lord everywhere; He alone is the refuge, and the murshid shows
the way to Him. This murshid is Shah Ināyat.10
In another Siharfi, Bullhe Shah tells human beings to recognize
their essence: ‘understand yourself first’. All the four Vedas
declare that you are ‘sukh rup, akhand, chetann’. In order to know
this one has to restrain desires and shun pleasures of the senses. The
outside world is like a dream, an illusion. Turn inwards to see that you
are the support of the whole world. Take care of your self, you are
immortal. You are the light of the world and remain the same in essence.
See who is within you: the elephant cannot be concealed by the grass.
The colourful bubble bursts and water mingles with water. They who are
dedicated to the beloved themselves become the beloved. You are yourself
the beloved; whom are you seeking? The world is a palace of smoke;
‘the water of life’ is within you. ‘Not this, not this’ declare
the Vedas; there is no other; when you reflect deeply you realize ‘I
am that’. If you discard khudi, you yourself become the Master. He is
the seed from which sprout the multifarious forms. He meets himself as
man and woman. The eternal ruler watches the dance of creation. He is
dear in every form. He was in the beginning and He shall be in the end.
By right orientation you become the beginning and the end. The friend is
gained by losing oneself. Congradulate Bullhe Shah ten thousand times
now that he has been embraced by the Beloved. 11 This Siharfi is clearly monistic and pantheistic, but it
is punctuated by monotheism. Bullhe Shah’s personal God never becomes
an impersonal Reality.
In yet another Siharfi, Bullhe Shah sings of love, separation and
union. The woman has the fire of love in her heart and suffers the pangs
of separation. Deaf and dumb to everything else, she responds only to
the call of the friend. Whether or not she is liked by him, she longs
for him and is prepared to sacrifice everyone dear to her. She is
totally consumed by love. Without knowing the appropriate mantar,
she tries to the catch the black cobras. She is weaving the thread of
‘I am the Truth’ for the sake of the beloved. She sings the praises
of the friend like a hymn. Without him, she is restless like an addict
without bhang. She can live only if she finds the beloved. She has
become Mansur (al-Hallaj) but she does not reveal the secret. 12
This Siharfi can be placed squarely within the Sufi thought.
Bulhe Shah’s dohrey give trenchant expression to several
of his characteristic ideas and attitudes. Institutionalized religion
has no attraction for him. Plunderers live in dharmsalas and thuggs
in thakurdwaras; in mosques live the practitioners of falsehood;
the lovers of God stay away from all. ‘God cannot be found in the
mosque, not even in the ka‘bah; He is not in the Qur’an or the other
scriptures. ‘I have travelled far and wide and found God at no place
of pilgrimage’. All such trammels snap when you meet the murshid.
The mulla is like a torch-bearer: he shows light to others while he
himself remains in darkness. Bullha has thrown namāz into
the oven and rozāh into the mud; he has smudged the kalma
with black ink. The people do not know that God is found within. If the
inner dirt does not depart there is no use of outward cleanliness; all
worship is in vain without the perfect guide (murshid). The
people advise Bullha to sit in the mosque, but there is no use of prayer
if it is not performed from the heart. The qāzi is happy with
bribery and the mulla over deaths; the lover is happy with singing the
praises of God in complete trust. All but the talk of Allah is small
talk; the learned merely create noise, and the books have created
confusion. 13
God is within all human beings and in every thing. God’s face
is the light and His creation is the veil; He conceals Himself behind
this veil. He has revealed himself in his creation but the creation
conceals him. He shows his face to those who love him, and he meets only
those who are his friends. In multifarious forms, he is close and yet
unknown. They who do not know their physical frame cannot know their
friend; human frames are merely earth, fire, water and air; the Master
is also within, unseen, like salt mixed with flour. God has created
billions of human frames and sits within them; he is the young girl and
the young boy, and he is the father and the mother; he himself is born,
he himself dies, and he himself observes mourning. Only he knows his qudrat.
The goldsmith crafts ornaments of different kinds; what is common
to their multifarious forms is silver. He who has the Qur’an in his
hand and the sacred thread over his neck is your Supreme Friend. The
shape of ‘ain and ghain is the same, with the difference only of the
dot. This small difference has misled the world. The perfect guide (murshid
kāmil) leads to the realization of unity (wahdat). The
visible forms are the ladder that leads toward the reality (haqiqat).
He who becomes aware of the reality needs no more the salutation of
peace. 14
The
doha
form is not meant to give elaborate expression to any theme; each
doha
presents an idea, a mood or a feeling, regarded as important by the
author. There are only 48 dohas of Bullhe Shah, and we have already
taken into account over a score. They indicate the importance attached
by Bullhe Shah to the immanence of God and the futility of
institutionalized religion. Both are relevant for the attitude of
tolerance. Bullhe Shah gives explicit expression to this attitude. The
day before yesterday I was an infidel; yesterday I worshipped idols; now
I have come home and I am silent. Bullha has become a lover of God and
people say that he has become an infidel; all he can say is ‘say
whatever you like’. What matters to Bullhe Shah is love and
dedication. If the woman-discipline of a Musalman is dedicated to a
Hindu, welcome them both and leave the rest to God (Bhagwān).
If you wish to become a ghazi, put on the sword and kill the notional
Muslim (rangharh) first and only then the infidel. The Brahman
who bears the pangs of separation in love becomes a shaikh. Let us go to
the place where the intoxication of love is not forbidden.15
At the centre of life for Bullhe Shah is love. Therefore he talks
of love and things related to love. Burn your pride and throw your false
honour into the well; lose all sense of your body and mind so that you
may meet God. Bullhe Shah regrets that much of the life has passed and
he has not turned to God (Har) in love. The guide (hadi) speaks within
me now and all the sins have been washed away; millet has grown on
mountains and the farvan tree is bearing the mulberry fruit.
Bullha regrets that he came to the world for reciting the name of God
but he has been lured by earthly things like gold, wealth and women. He
tells himself to go to the kitchen of the friend to sacrifice himself,
like a goat. Hijrat in Islam has a special significance; therefore,
Bullha dies every day and comes to life, moving every day from one stage
to another. He has found the reality through search as a lover. 16
Some statements in the dohras of Bullhe Shah are not
interesting for their general import. The spring comes and sparrows
descend for feed; some are eaten by the hawks and others are caught in
the net; some still hope to return and others are roasted for food; they
are all helpless; their fate is determined by someone else. At the gates
of the rich there are watchmen; one can appropriate the door of God;
sorrows end there. In this world there are adepts in talk; they give a
needle in charity and keep the whole block of iron; they return a lost
cowrie but appropriate a whole bag. Let us go to the place where all are
blind who can see no social status, or authority.17
IV
Bullhe Shah gives the
best expression to his ideas, feelings, moods and attitudes in his kāfis.
One is clearly didactic, with the refrain of ‘wake up from slumber’.
You have to leave the world one day and go to the grave where worms eat
your flesh. Therefore, never forget death. The day of wedding (death) is
coming close; prepare the dowry (of good conduct). The wedding would be
followed shortly by muklava. The woman would leave the world for
ever, no more young or beautiful. The way is long and passes through a
wilderness. She should prepare for the voyage now for nothing can be
borrowed on the way. Individuals of much greater importance have
departed: Alexander the Great and other rulers of the world, Sultans, mirs
and maliks, prophets and pirs, Yusuf and Zulekha, and
Sulaiman whose throne was flower by fairies in the air. No flower
remains in bloom when the autumn wind blows. You will cry like a lonely
crane. Walk carefully for you will not come here for the second time.
Without the kalma, there is no escape. 18
There is nothing in this kāfi that may be regarded as
unorthodox. Elsewhere too, Bullhe Shah alludes to the darkness of the
grave, echoing Shah Husain. The whole world goes at last to ‘the city
of the silent’; the angel of death (malik al-maut) takes away
boatfuls of the dead. The shari‘at is our wet nurse, tariqat
our mother, and through haqiqat we gain some knowledge of the
divine. By following the shar‘iat one would get support from the
Prophet Muhammad. Not having prepared adequately for the hereafter,
Bullhe Shah prays for mercy rather than justice. He advises the young
girl to acquire merit: her parents have sent invitations (gandhān)
for her wedding and when she leaves her home (this world) she will never
come back. In another kāfi too, Bullhe Shah underlines the
importance of good deeds, asking the young girl to turn to spinning.
However, there is no explicit insistence on namāz, rozah,
hajj or zakāt. Indeed ‘Pak Rasul Muhammad Sahib
‘is the special means of love. His name leads to Allah and teaches how
to die for him or in him (fana fi-Allah). Talking of the light (nur)
of Muhammad, Bullhe Shah is talking of the Prophet of the Sufi Islam.19
Bullhe Shah gives Sufi signification of some of the ayats and
phrases of the Qur’an. The words ‘kunn’ and ‘fiya kunn’
in Punjabi come from the Qur’an with reference to the creation of the
universe and humankind. Bullhe Shah refers to the ‘face of Allah’,
the ‘hidden treasure’, ‘am I not your Lord?’, ‘it is for your
good’, ‘come near to us’, and ‘fight against your lower self’.
The ‘hidden treasure’ became many through kunn-fiyakunn.
Allah is closer to you than your jugular vein.20
All these ayats and phrases were familiar to the Sufis and were
given mystical interpretation in justification of the concept of
immanence and the idea of love.
Through his kāfis, Bullhe Shah has given the most powerful
expression in Punjabi literature to the unity of existence (wahdat
al-wajud). Like Shaikh Farid and Shah Husain, he uses multiplicity
of epithets for God who is the only one reality. The letter alif, the
first letter of Allah, is the symbol of One. Bullhe Shah’s heart is
dyed in Allah and he does not know the second letter be (anything other
than Allah). Having tasted alif, he fails to understand the meaning of
be. The letters ‘ain (He) and ghain (other than He) did not clarify
the issue but the letter alif has brought perfect understanding. All
that one needs is an understanding of alif, and not cartload of books.
From one became two, three and four, and then thousands upon thousands.
The single seed became a huge tree; when the tree would be no more,
there would still the seed. By learning the alif comes liberation. The
letter ghain has the same shape as the letter ‘ain with a dot; if the
dot is removed from the heart what is left is ‘ain. Our home is now in
unity (wahdat) and wonder (hairat) is our companion;
oblivious of the self, we are no longer concerned with birth or death. 21
The unity of God becomes the unity of existence through His
immanence. The beloved has come in human form. He himself is the deer
and the leopard, the master and the slave; He is the renunciant and the
house holder; He the bāzigar who makes us dance like
puppets. He is the shepherd, the goatherd, the cowherd and the keeper of
buffaloes. He who is beyond space (la-makān) is present in
every form. He himself is the speaker and the listener, the singer and
the musical instrument. He is the thief within. The cotton assumes
numerous forms, each known by its name; the silver assumes the shape of
rings and bangles. The Musalmans are afraid of being cremated and the
Hindus of being buried; this remains the source of contention between
them; one is ‘Ramdas’ and the other ‘Fateh Muhammad’; their
contention ends when they see the same beloved in both. The One changes
forms, reading books as a mulla at one place and offering worship as a
Hindu at another; here a friend and there an enemy; here the guide
(guru) and there the disciple; here Majnun and there Laila; he is within
every one. The namāzi is he and the qazi is he; the bairagi
is he and the shaikh is he. ‘I have discovered now that only you have
changed your form’. 22
For Bullhe Shah, the whole issue of life is resolved by one
point: devotion and dedication to God. Keep no accounts and close the
book of infidelity. Get rid of the misery of the grave and the fear of
hell. Purify your heart of all evil thoughts. The matter ends within
you: that is the whole point. In vain you rub your forehead on the
ground and recite the kalma if there is no understanding within.
Some have returned from pilgrimage as hajis wearing blue cloaks; they
sell their merit for money; God does not like this. Some go into the
wilderness and do not eat even a single grain. They tire their bodies in
vain and fail to reach the goal. They waste their life in austerities.
Take guidance of the murshid and devote yourself to God. Discard
desires and cares, and purify your heart. When the beloved comes,
forgotten are rozah, hajj and namāz. There is no room
for Logic and Poetics. There is no need of the shari‘at. ‘He has
come home and I have forgotten rozah, hajj and namāz.
I have now seen the difference between the shari‘at and love.
On drinking the goblet of love all talk is forgotten; the same Master is
seen in every home and within everyone’. Forgotten are Logic, Tafsir
and Fiqh. He who has drunk the intoxicating cup has nothing to do with
namaz and rozah. The Pandit and the Mulla have failed to know the secret
despite their learning. 23
Bullhe Shah sings mostly of love, separation and union. The Mulla
and the Qazi try to show us the way but lead to illusion. They are great
thuggs who cast the net all around. They tell us that religion (dharm)
consists of the injunctions of the shari‘at to put chains on our feet.
Love knows no caste or mazhab; it is the enemy of shara‘. Love
demands sacrifice. Apart from the examples of Zakariya and Yahiya,
Bullhe Shah refers to Mansur al-Hallaj who kissed the cross to have the
sight (darshan) of the beloved. On his account he drank the cup of love
in perfection. The spark of love obliterates the difference between the
Hindu and the Turk; love wins over God (Har). But the path of love is
hard. The beloved may not care in his be-parwahi. Yusuf was thrown into
the well, and sold as a slave in the market for a hank; you may be sold
for a cowrie. Some were skinned alive and others were sawn; some were
crucified; your head would also be cut off. The wine makers (kalāls)
are your neighbours; you would be tempted to taste the intoxicating
stuff, and you will be dubbed as ‘inebriate’. If you utter ‘I am
the truth’ (ana al-haqq), you would be crucified. They whose
bones are suffused with love die in life. He who is suffused with
perfect love dances even without song and music; when the cup of divine
love is drunk, there is no question and no answer; he sees the beloved
in all his beauty. A single particle of love is weightier than a
mountain; for a single glance of the beloved one discards the whole
world. Love brings ever new springs. ‘When I read the lesson of love,
I became afraid of the mosque and entered the abode of Thakur where
thousands of horns are blown. Wherever I look I see the beloved’. Burn
the prayer mat and smash the water pot, throw away the rosary and the
staff; sijda is forgotten in love. The relationship of love is
eternal; it was there at the beginning and it will be there at the end.24
Separation was involved in creation itself. Its awareness is the
source of pain. Waiting for the friend, the woman is crying like a koil,
and wandering like a jogan. Love has given the ‘call to prayer’ (bāng)
and her forehead is towards the mihrab. But the friend does not
come. The pangs of separation do not decrease with the passage of time;
only he knows who suffers. This suffering comes from love. She can
neither live nor die. There is no peace during the day or the night; the
fire of separation is burning her alive. May someone relieve her of this
pain. It cannot be relieved without the sight (darshan) of the
beloved. Without the beloved she is neither here nor there. The fire of
separation is ablaze and she does not know what to do. In the absence of
Sham, the courtyard is frightening and she cannot pass the night. Her
heart is yearning for the beloved friend. She washed and adorned herself
but the friend did not respond. Let all shingār be burnt.
She longs for the friend. Due to separation from the friend, she has
neither a natal nor a marital home. Friendship with the heartless is a
source of suffering; he has left her, piercing her heart with the spear
of separation; he has forgotten all promises of return; in this
transaction, she has drunk the cup of poison: the bundle of sorrows has
become heavy.25
Bullhe Shah sings of union with abandon. Let the time stop now
that the beloved has come home. The bell reminds of the passage of time;
it should be thrown out. The unstruck music has filled the air; the
singer is adept and the tune is superb. Forgotten are namaz and rozah.
Praise be to the cup-bearer who gives the wine to drink. The pain of the
heart has vanished on seeing the friend’s face. There is no awareness
of self in the union. Through perfect grace the beloved has come home.
‘May I live with him for thousands upon thousands of years’. Bullhe
Shah has been redeemed by the Redeemer. Let the time stop now that my
beloved has come home. 26
Union
with the beloved leads to complete identification with him. Bullhe Shah
does not who he is. He is not a momin in the mosque; he does not
follow the practices of infidelity. He is neither pure nor polluted. He
is not Musa, nor is he Far‘aun. He is not in the Veda or the books. He
is not in the intoxicants; he is not inebriated. He is neither awake nor
asleep. He is neither happy nor sad. He is neither of water nor of
earth, neither of fire nor of air. He is not an Arab, nor a Hindu; he is
not of Lahour nor of Nagaur. He is neither a Hindu nor a Turk of
Peshawar. He does not reside in Nadaun. He has not found the secret of
religion; he is not born of Adam and Hawwa. He has given no name to
himself. He is not sitting at one place, nor is he roaming around. He
regards himself as the beginning and the end; he does not recognize
anyone else. No one is wiser than he. Who else is there then? There is
one Reality.27 This kāfi
is seen superficially as a crisis of identity. It is in fact an
expression of complete identity between the creator and the creation.
More even than Shah Husain, Bullhe Shah uses the symbol of Ranjha
for the divine beloved and of Heer for the devout human being as the
female lover. Since Bullhe Shah adopts the voice of Heer, her name does
not figure everywhere. The terms associated with these symbols are Takht
Hazāra, the river
Chenab
, the Kherhas, buffaloes, the bridal litter, jogi and jogan, and the chāk
(Ranjha). The flute (murli) is associated with Ranjha either
directly or through Kahn. The symbol of the flute is not associated
unambiguously with
Krishna
. In one of the kāfis, Heer indicates that her love is eternal. She
regrets that Ranjha goes with the buffaloes but leaves her behind. There
is none like Ranjha for her; she implores him to come back. She needs
him.28 In another kāfi, Heer invites her friends to congratulate
her on finding her beloved spouse. He has entered her courtyard and the
day has become auspicious. He has come in the form of Ranjha.29 Heer scolds Ranjha but prays for him in her heart. The
outward appearance is meant for the people; otherwise, Heer and Ranjha
are one. 30
In yet another kāfi, Ranjha comes as a jogi. This role suits
the Great Player. His eyes are intoxicating and all sorrows vanish on
seeing his face. With rings in his ears and a cord around his neck, he
looks like Yusuf. Ranjha is the jogi and Heer is a jogiani, she would
serve him for ever.31 The Kherhās figure in another kāfi. They
have forced Heer into the bridal litter to take her away and she
implores Ranjha to come. She tells her mother that if she is fond of the
Kherhas she can send someone else with them.32 Ranjha, the chāk,
has come in search of Heer. He is not a servant, nor is he fond of
buffaloes; he feels no hunger or thirst. Who has come in this garb? 33
By meeting him all sorrows vanish. ‘In the eyes of the people he is a
chak, but for me he is the Merciful Lord’.34
‘Why should I go to Ka‘bah when my heart longs for Takht Hazara?’
Our friend to us is like Ka‘bah to the people. There is none like him
in the whole world. 35
In a longish kāfi, Heer declares that she would put a tilak on her
forehead and go with the jogi. No one can stop her. The jogi is the
friend of her heart; she has lost all sense on seeing him. With sweet
talk he has caught her in the snare of love. If he comes home, all her
affairs would be set right; she will embrace him after a thousand forms
of welcome. There is a jogi at the gate, asking for Heer Sial. This is
perfect grace. He is the divine light; his flute produces heavenly
music.36 There is
complete identification between Heer and Ranjha. ‘Uttering Ranjha,
Ranjha I have myself become Ranjha. Call me Dhido Ranjha. None should
call me Heer. I am in Ranjha and Ranjha is in me; there is no
difference’.37
Bullhe Shah talks of the city of love (prem nagar). The ways of
the city of love are strange. The murderous eyes become the source of
happiness. God allows himself to be caught in the net. Lost in the city
of love, Bullhe Shah is trying to correct himself. By losing himself he
discovers his self and everything is right. He sees God in both the
worlds; there is no other. Strange are the ways of the city of love. He
dies due to the excess of happiness, allowing himself to be caught in
the net and killed. His body and mind are at stake for love. ‘Let us
settle in the city of love where there is our spouse’. In the city of
love, ‘you and I’ are one, there is no other. There is no Hindu and
no Musalman, no Sunni and no Shia. The Hindu and the Turk have lost
their duality in unity. Our minds set on God
(Har), we are no longer concerned with sin or merit. ‘We have
adopted the path of peace with all (sulh-i kul)’. Bullhe Shah’s
ideal city of love is the city of universal peace. 38
For Bullhe Shah, Hindu and Turk are symbolic of cultural
pluralism in the Indian subcontinent. At one level, even Islam in all
its forms is not commendable; at another, even non-Islamic traditions of
India
are appreciable as the manifestation of God. The symbols of the flute
and the dance are of special interest in this connection. The wonderful
flute of the Kahn is meant for all and fascinates those who hear the
divine voice in it; its tune is within all.39
‘Ever since the Kahn has blown his flute I run towards him in madness;
its sound reveals the falsehood of the world; I have forgotten every
thing’.40 Love makes
Bullhe Shah dance; he has drunk the cup of poison; he calls for the
divine tabib to save his life; the beloved friend is his ka‘bah
and qiblah; Bullha dances to the beat of love. 41 The importance given to dance in this kāfi is
not merely a reminder of the practice of dance among the Sufis. The
refrain with ‘thaiya, thaiya’ in particular refers to the Indian
dance, if not exactly of rāslila.
Bullhe Shah makes a reference to the festival of holi. ‘There
is no god but Allah’ plays the flute of ‘I am near you’, and gives
the cry of ‘know your nafs’. ‘You will see the light of God
in the court of the Messenger of Allah’. Gather, therefore, the light
of Muhammad. Make the hori of ‘remembrance’ and please the
beloved by acknowledging his grace. Fill the syringe with ‘the light
of Allah’ and make the praise of Allah its target. See the light of
Muhammad as the light of Allah: ‘There is no god but Allah’. Bullhe
Shah would play the holi in the name of Allah.42
The use of the Quranic phrases with mystical implications make the
metaphor attractive. How holi should be played presupposes the
contextual acceptance of the practice.
The use of the symbols of the flute, the dance and holi is
similar to the use of Indian epithets for God. Apart from Allah, Maula,
Rabb, Khuda, Sattar and Ghaffar, there are Har, Hari, Sham, Kahn,
Kanhiya and Sham-Sundar in the kāfis of Bullhe Shah. A large number
of epithets come from popular lore, love and conjugality, like Ranjha,
dholan, mahi, piya, dilbar, yar, sohna, sjjan, mittar, jani and shauh or
banna. More significantly, Bullhe Shah uses the epithet Sachcha Sahib
which was used in the Sikh tradition too in the early eighteenth
century. He, he uses the term Guru for Allah.
Bullhe Shah’s
preoccupation with things indigenous is quite remarkable. Apart from
what has been noticed already, he refers to Lanka, Kumbh Karan, Dehsir,
Lachhman, gian and dhian, ulti gang, sadhs, Gur ka sewak, amrit mandal,
Satgur, anhad shabad, pad, nam, Pando, Ram, Harnakash, Rāvan, Sita,
Hanuman, Kans, Dhanna, Bidr, Kairon, avagaun, nam dhiao, goil, anhad,
bhana, Jajman, pittar, Brahman, Chandi Mata, Tulsi Mata, salag- ram,
ghar mein ganga, sants, amrit phal, vadbhagi, Gorakh, jatādhāri
and munni. These phrases relate mostly to the religious culture of
India
. It becomes highly significant, therefore, that Bullhe Shah does not
see any difference between momin and kāfir from the viewpoint of
wahdat: ‘in the state of the realization of unity, I see neither the
believer nor the infidel’.43 Even more significant is Bullhe Shah’s
reference to Guru Tegh Bahadur. He is called ghazi. If the term
ghazi refers to his martyrdom, which is most likely, it amounts to
positive appreciation of a non-Islamic tradition.44
V
Bullhe Shah’s works
are not devoid of social comment. The city of
Qasur
has a defect built into its very name: the true are punished here and
the false play in ease. There is no commendable custom in Qasur: there
is no charity, no pious deeds, and no reward for services rendered. The
times are topsy tervy: crows are killing the hawks and sparrows are
killing the falcons; the ‘Iraqi horses are wipped and saddles are put
on donkeys. This, however, is a result of the divine order over which
there is no human control. The comment here is general and moral,
arising out of a sense of unfair dispensation. There is comment on the
heritage of self-aggrandisement. The secret of the greatness of the son
is that his mother and father were thieves, fighting for earthly goods.
The food is eaten by Khaira but Jumma is caught and punished. The tigers
are beaten and killed, and the wolves are in bad shape; the mice are
cutting the ears of the cat. There is a contention between indifferent
and good sweets. There is
conflict everywhere and no one stops. The day of judgement has come.45
A kāfi dwells on those who had suffered in the past: Adam,
Isa, Nuh, Moses, Ismail, Yusuf and Zulekha, Yunas, Sulaiman, Ibrahim,
Sabar, Husain, Mansur, Zakariya, Shah Sharf, Laila and Majnun, Heer and
Ranjha, Sahiban and Mirza, Sassi, Sohni, Roda, Kauravs and Pandavs,
Namrud, Karun, Far‘aun, Ravan, Harnakash, and Kans. Towards the end of
this kāfi, Bullhe Shah refers to the Imam who was made to fight
against Yazid and whose head was exhibited on the point of a spear.
After this comes the statement that the Mughals drank the cup of poison
and the ‘rug-bearers’ were made rulers; the ashraf are silent. In
spite of this explicit reference to the Mughals, the comment is not
exactly political. In any case, Bullhe Shah does not identify himself
with ‘the Muslim’, or any other rulers.46
VI
Bullhe Shah’s kāfis
are sung by qawwāls who are popular among the Punjabi-knowing
peoples of the world irrespective of their religious affiliation. It may
be of interest to know the contents of the most popular kāfis.
We have already referred to some of them: the one that begins
with ‘ik nukte vich gall mukdi ae’, and ‘Bullha ki janan
mein kaun’, the one about the dance to the beat of thaiya, thaiya,
Ranjha coming in the garb of a jogi, Heer’s complete identification
with Ranjha, the blossoming of ever new springs, the throwing out of the
telling bell on meeting the beloved, the thief within, and eloping with
the jogi. There are several other kāfis which are equally popular.
One of these refers to the limitless secrets revealed by the beloved. He
conceals himself behind mim. That is, if you remove the letter mim from
Ahmad, you are left with ahd’ which carries the implication
that God has revealed himself through the Prophet Muhammad. Similarly,
God revealed the secret of ana al-haqq (I am the truth) to Mansur
to crucify himself. The one who crucifies, the one who is crucified and
one who looks on and laughs are the same.47
The pilgrims go to
Mecca
but Heer’s
Mecca
is her beloved Ranjha. She is betrothed to Ranjha but her father is
unjust (to think of another spouse for her). She would go to Takht
Hazara. Her ka‘bah is where the beloved is. This is what all the
scriptures say. 48
The theme of dedication is treated in a forceful manner in one of
the kāfis. Bullhe Shah tells the devotee that he remains awake all
night in devotion to God. But even dogs do that. They bark all the night
and then sleep on the dung-heap. They do not leave the door of their
master even if they are beaten; they score over the devotee. Bullhe Shah
tells the devotee (or himself) to perform better; otherwise the dogs
would win the game. 49
The awareness of alif (Allah) is far preferable to knowledge (‘ilm).
There is no end to learning. With the Qur’an and the books all around,
one remains in darkness amidst light. By learning books one becomes a
shaikh, fills his belly and sleeps to be drowned mid stream. Another
reads books and gives a loud call for prayers and declaims from the
mimbar; goaded and humiliated by greed. One reads books to become a
mulla or a qazi, saying one thing but doing another; outwardly true, he
is false within. They who have eyes do not see; they catch the sadh
instead of the thief. The learned Mian wields the knife for half a paisa,
and the butchers are dear to him.
To learn the lesson of love, one enters the river of unity (wahdat).
Bullha is neither Rafizi nor Sunni; he is not a learned man; his only
acquisition is the knowledge of God (‘ilm ladunni).
One needs only two letters: alif and mim (Allah and Muhammad).50
Bullhe Shah gives playful expression to love in one of his popular kāfis.
‘See what he does? Someone may ask the beloved what he does. Living in
the same house he keeps the veil’. He performs namaz in the mosque and
enters the idol-house for worship. Wherever you look there he is,
associating with everyone. He creates Musa and Far‘aun, and becomes
two to fight. He is present everywhere; who can be thrown into the hell?
Love, the wolf, eats Bullhe Shah’s flesh and drinks his blood.
‘Someone may ask the beloved what he does’.51
‘Lift the veil O’Friend, why do you feel so shy now?’ In
this kāfi, Bullhe Shah refers to the beauty of the beloved and the
pangs of separation, using the similes of cobra for the tresses, arrows
for the eyes, and dagger for separation. ‘You have possessed my heart
through love but never shown your face. I have drunk the cup of poison,
I was devoid of sense. Lift the veil O’ Friend, why do you feel so shy
now?’.52
In another popular kāfi Bullhe Shah talks of remaining
silent after the experience of love. He who discovers the secret of the qalandar
by searching (for the beloved) within himself, attains to the temple of
peace where there is no high or low state. In everyone is the presence
of God; it remains concealed in some but revealed in others. People seek
him outside but he is within. His glimpse acts like a spark of fire in
gun powder. When his light shines, the mountains are reduced to dust.
When one utters the truth, one is crucified like Mansur. ‘If I reveal
the secret, all debate would cease. And then they would kill Bullha. It
is appropriate, therefore, to keep the secret concealed’.53
The experience of God changes his perception of God. ‘My Ranjha is now
someone else’, says Bullhe Shah. The call given in the Luminous Heaven
is heard at the throne of
Lahore
. They who are ‘killed’ by love wander like cattle in the
wilderness. Ranjha, the master of Takht Hazāra, becomes the thief.
Bullhe Shah would never die: he who lies in the grave is someone else.
‘My Ranjha is now someone else’. 54
The popular kāfis of Bullhe Shah dwell on love, separation
and union. The mystical dimension may be somewhat shallow in one and
rather deep in another. Preferable over learning, love leads to the
awareness of unity in which differences of all kinds are obliterated or
minimized. The importance of the Prophet is recognized in a manner that
endears to him to all. The dominant impression created by these popular
kāfis is that of catholicity and peace with all. Whatever is, is
right.
On the whole, Bullhe Shah emerges as the most catholic poet of
Punjabi. Shah Husain is equally liberal, and not even keen to identity
himself with Islam. Bullhe Shah’s catholicity is more significant
precisely because he seldom forgets his Muslim identity. He remains a
Sufi poet. His universal tolerance arises from his faith and
metaphysics.
NOTES
Sant
Singh Sekhon, A History of Panjabi Literature,
Patiala
:
Punjabi
University
, 1996, vol. II, pp. 31-5.
Ibid.,
pp. 45-9.
Denis
Matringe, Krsnaite and Nath elements in the poetry of the
eighteenth-century Panjabi Sufi Bullhe ‘Sah’, Devotional Literature
in South Asia, ed., R.S. McGregor, Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press , 1992,
pp. 190- 1.
Ibid.,
pp. 191-3.
Ibid.,
pp. 193-6.
Ibid.,
pp. 196-8.
Kalām
Bullhe Shah, ed., Gurdev Singh,
Ludhiana
:
Lahore
Book Shop, 1992 (2nd ed.), pp. 73-76.
Ibid.,
pp. 86-94.
Ibid.,
pp. 78-84.
Ibid.,
pp. 102-07.
Ibid.,
pp. 107-16.
Ibid.,
pp. 116-22.
Ibid.,
pp. 96-7, 97, 98, 99, 100.
Ibid.,
pp. 96, 97, 98-99, 9, 100.
Ibid.,
pp. 97, 98, 99, 100.
Ibid.,
pp. 97, 98.
Ibid.,
pp. 96, 97-8, 100.
Ibid.,
pp. 127-30.
Ibid.,
pp. 145, 146, 148, 156, 163-5, 178, 184, 187, 192-4, 249.
Ibid.,
pp. 146, 181, 201, 203, 205.
Ibid.,
pp. 124, 131-2, 157, 230.
Ibid.,
pp. 168, 177, 195, 196, 219.
Ibid.,
pp. 132-3, 171, 236.
Ibid.,
pp. 134, 135, 148-50, 158, 159, 183, 235.
Ibid.,
pp. 124, 125, 126, 130, 145, 167, 177, 201.
Ibid.,
pp. 207-8.
Ibid.,
p. 139.
Ibid.,
p. 131.
Ibid.,
p. 135.
Ibid.,
p. 139.
Ibid.,
pp. 169-70.
Ibid.,
p. 170.
Ibid.,
p. 175.
Ibid.,
pp. 194-5.
Ibid.,
p. 208.
Ibid.,
p. 223.
Ibid.,
pp. 231-3.
Ibid.,
pp. 125, 127, 138, 145, 163-4, 213, 245.
Ibid.,
p. 140.
Ibid.,
pp. 211-12.
Ibid.,
pp. 140-1.
Ibid.,
pp. 249-50.
Ibid.,
p. 209.
Ibid.,
p. 226.
Ibid.,
pp. 96, 133, 134, 188-9.
Ibid.,
p. 173.
Ibid.,
p. 144.
Ibid.,
p. 163.
Ibid.,
pp. 170-1.
Ibid.,
pp. 185-6.
Ibid.,
pp. 197-8.
Ibid.,
p. 206.
Ibid.,
pp. 213-14.
Ibid., p. 220.
<>
Link to Baba
Bullhe Shah’s kāfi sung by Rabbi
Shergill: http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=pTxZy32Fv_0
Jagtār
Singh Grewāl.
University
of
California
at
Santa Barbara
.
Goleta
. 2001.
Photo by Amarjit
Chandan
[About
the author: Historian JS Grewal was Vice Chancellor of Guru
Nanak Dev University, and Director and Chairman of Indian
Institute
of
Advanced Study Shimla
. Now he heads the
Institute
of
Punjab Studies
, and is the Director of the World Punjabi Centre at
Punjabi
University
.
This essay
on Bullhe Shah is taken from his forthcoming book Historical Studies
in Punjabi Literature to be published in 2009 by
Punjabi
University
]