Reading at Katha Kathan's Open Mic

Nothing could have made this weekend more special than discovering Jameel Gulrays sir's Katha Kathan.

After having planned for several months to attend at least one of their events, I finally happened to be at their Baithak on Teacher.

Katha Kathan is an initiative by Jameel Gulrays sir and his team to revive the Indian language literature.

Here's the poem I read along with the translation.

तूच तुझा गुरू हो

कोण शिष्य कोण गुरू

आभासाच्या बाजारी मांडलेले

तू आणि मी, मातीची फक्त बोलके घट

घडवणारा, विकणारा आणि विकत घेणारा एकच

सर्वत्र तूच आहेस हे जाण आणि तूच तुझा गुरू हो

पण त्या आधी

या बाजारात वावरताना थोडा सावध हो

जी रिकामी मडकी शेंदूर फासून देव झालीयेत

ती फुटून जाऊ देत स्वतःच, पोकळ असण्याच्या जाणिवेने

मग उरेल फक्त माती आणि ती पुन्हा एकच सत्य सांगेल

सर्वत्र तूच आहेस हे जाण आणि तूच तुझा गुरू हो

पण अखंडाच्या जाणिवेत विरघळण्याधी जरा थांब

त्या फुटलेल्या घटातून ध्वनित होणारा नाद नीट ऐक

त्या नादातही तुझ्याच असण्याचं गाणं आहे

तुला सतत पडणाऱ्या सुखाच्या भुकेच्या प्रश्नांना उत्तराची गरजच काय?

हे प्रश्न तुझ्या त्याच विस्मरणातून निर्माण होतायत

सर्वत्र तू आणि फक्त तूच आहेस हे जाण आणि तूच तुझा गुरू हो

मला वाटलंच होतं, तू अजून इथेच रेंगाळणार

पण पुन्हा नवीन घट होण्याची आस कशाला?

आणि माती होण्याची भीतीही का?

तुला एक क्षणही नसण्याचं पुसटसं स्मरण तरी आहे का?

तू आणि फक्त तूच आहेस, हे आता तरी जाण आणि तूच तुझा गुरू हो

[Translation]

Be your own teacher

Who can tell the difference between a student and a teacher?

Arranged in the market of illusion

You and me, are speaking pots of clay

The maker, seller, and buyer are the same

Realise that you are everywhere and be your own guru

But wait

Be careful when treading the streets of this market

Let the empty pots, coloured in vermilion, which have become gods

Break after realising their own emptiness

And all that will be left is the soil, speaking the only truth

Realise that you are everywhere and be your own guru

Wait a moment before dissolving in the realisation of the unbound

Listen carefully to the sound coming from the broken pots

In that sound is the song of your being

What is the need to find solutions to the questions of hunger for happiness that hound you all the time?

These questions are born from your same forgetfulness

Realise that you are everywhere and be your own guru

I was certain, that you'll still be loitering here

Why the desire to become a new pot?

And why dread of becoming the soil?

Do you even have a faint memory of non-existence?

It's time you realise that it's only you who are everywhere and be your own guru

- The Last Nomad