I was having one of those days, and so wrote this. It's funny how we are quick to talk, advice, convince others around us when they are in a particular situation. Yet we can't stand upto our own words when Akaal Purakh slaps those situations on us. This poem is written as a slap to my own weak and hypocritical nature, which may show some a reflection of what we really are.
How easy it seems to talk about Him And then make a face when life gets grim How cool it is to talk about death Yet you freak out when you are out of breath
How convenient it is to talk and preach Telling people about a God they need to reach Yet when the moment of your test comes You shiver with fear and grind your gums
It is so easy tell an inspiring story To talk about history, wars and glory Living up to that dignity is in fact the real deal Unless you can do that, who cares what you feel
The real challenge is not to talk merely big words And have people follow you in huge and massive herds It is to be ready to give it all up at any cost Unconcerned whether you win, or if you have lost
We talk about the Singhs who faced a merciless slaughter Didn't care to lose every son and daughter Yet today people like me who are quick to slip away Who are empty within, yet have a lot to say
When times are good and life is smooth I won't stop talking in spite of pain in my tooth And then comes the storm of misery and sorrow That's when I realize that I am totally hollow
The real challenge is not giving advice to others And then weep on losing your sisters and brothers The real challenge is to stand firm like a rock Not caring if you face insults or mock
Talking big all these years is all I have done Check if I have anything inside, the answer is none The real challenge is not useless arguing and debating But putting up a smile when the world is degrading
It was so easy to cut, copy and paste Now I think, how much time did I waste Pointless arguing and meaningless debates Led me away from the Lord's blessed gates
Gurmukhs are like babies, carefree and content They rely on Vaheguru alone, and are happily dependant They trust Him for everything, He provides for all their needs They serve him forever, in their thoughts, words and deeds
Manmukhs such as me are like some people who are old Dependant unwillingly, unhappily, and can be cold We may talk about Hukam and bhaana day and night But that's because we feel helpless and can't put up a fight
We fake being Gurmukhs, we fake being satisfied We pretend to be bhagats, yet are always petrified We talk about how life ought to be spent Yet we couldn't figure out, what life even meant
The real challenge is not in what all you say Nor in your actions when you pretend to pray It is not in what you claim to think in your brain Rather facing situations head on, come loss or gain
I admit myself, that I am just all talk The real challenge however, is to walk the walk I know I have no idea whats gonna pull me through Now I ask you, "do you have it in you?"
~ Mehtab Singh Wednesday, August 19, 2009
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string(3479) "I was having one of those days, and so wrote this. It's funny how we are quick to talk, advice, convince others around us when they are in a particular situation. Yet we can't stand upto our own words when Akaal Purakh slaps those situations on us. This poem is written as a slap to my own weak and hypocritical nature, which may show some a reflection of what we really are.
How easy it seems to talk about Him And then make a face when life gets grim How cool it is to talk about death Yet you freak out when you are out of breath
How convenient it is to talk and preach Telling people about a God they need to reach Yet when the moment of your test comes You shiver with fear and grind your gums
It is so easy tell an inspiring story To talk about history, wars and glory Living up to that dignity is in fact the real deal Unless you can do that, who cares what you feel
The real challenge is not to talk merely big words And have people follow you in huge and massive herds It is to be ready to give it all up at any cost Unconcerned whether you win, or if you have lost
We talk about the Singhs who faced a merciless slaughter Didn't care to lose every son and daughter Yet today people like me who are quick to slip away Who are empty within, yet have a lot to say
When times are good and life is smooth I won't stop talking in spite of pain in my tooth And then comes the storm of misery and sorrow That's when I realize that I am totally hollow
The real challenge is not giving advice to others And then weep on losing your sisters and brothers The real challenge is to stand firm like a rock Not caring if you face insults or mock
Talking big all these years is all I have done Check if I have anything inside, the answer is none The real challenge is not useless arguing and debating But putting up a smile when the world is degrading
It was so easy to cut, copy and paste Now I think, how much time did I waste Pointless arguing and meaningless debates Led me away from the Lord's blessed gates
Gurmukhs are like babies, carefree and content They rely on Vaheguru alone, and are happily dependant They trust Him for everything, He provides for all their needs They serve him forever, in their thoughts, words and deeds
Manmukhs such as me are like some people who are old Dependant unwillingly, unhappily, and can be cold We may talk about Hukam and bhaana day and night But that's because we feel helpless and can't put up a fight
We fake being Gurmukhs, we fake being satisfied We pretend to be bhagats, yet are always petrified We talk about how life ought to be spent Yet we couldn't figure out, what life even meant
The real challenge is not in what all you say Nor in your actions when you pretend to pray It is not in what you claim to think in your brain Rather facing situations head on, come loss or gain
I admit myself, that I am just all talk The real challenge however, is to walk the walk I know I have no idea whats gonna pull me through Now I ask you, "do you have it in you?"
