Can an atheist attain the highest Truth?
Ya ghat bheetar anhad garje
Ya hi mein uthhat phuvaara
Kahe Kabira, suno bhai saadho
Ya hi mein guru hai hamaara
Dhhoondhhe re dhhoondhhe andhiyaara
Yeh waqt kya hai?
yeh kya hain aakhir ki joh musalsal guzar raha hai.
yeh jab na guzara thaa, tab kahan tha? kahin to hoga?
guzar gaya hain, to ab kahan hain, kahi to hoga?
kahan se aaya kidhar gaya hai? yeh kab se kab tak ka silsila hai?
yeh waqt kya hain?
What is Time? What is this thing that goes on ceaselessly?
When it was not here, then where was it? It must have been somewhere.
It has passed away, so where is it now? It must be somewhere.
Where did it come from? Where did it go? Where does this process start and end?
Time! What is it?
woh zakhm ka dard ho ki wo lams ka ho jaadu, khud apni aavaz ho ki mahol ki sadayein,
yeh zehen main banti aur bigadti hui fizaye, wo fikr main aaye zalzale hon ki dil ki halchal,
tamaam ahesaas, sare jazbey, ye jaise patte hain, bahte paani ki satah par jaise tairte hain,
dikhai deta nahi hai lekin ye kuchh to hain jo ki beh raha hai,
ye kaisa dariya hai? kin pahado se aa raha hai? ye kis samandar ko jaa raha hai?
yeh waqt kya hain?
These events, incidents, conflicts, every grief, every joy, every torment, every pleasure,
every smile, every tear, every song, every scent,
It may be the pain of a wound or the magic of a tender touch, your own lonely voice or cries from the external world;
The winds of success and failure assailing the mind, the upheavals of worry, the tumult of the heart.
All feelings, all emotions, are like leaves floating on the surface of the water.
Now here, now there, and now they disappear,
It’s not visible but there is something that is flowing,
What is this river? From which mountain is it coming? To which ocean is it going?
Time! What is it?
kabhi kabhi main ye sochta hoon, ki chalti gaadi se ped dekho,
to eisa lagta hai doosri samt ja rahe hain,
magar haqikat main ped apni jagah khade hain,
to kya yeh mumkin hai, saari sadiyaan, katar andar katar apni jagah khadi hon,
Sometimes I think, when one looks at the trees from a moving train,
It seems that they are moving in the opposite direction.
But in reality, the trees are standing still.
So can it be, that all the centuries, row upon row, are standing still?
Can it be that time is frozen and we alone are in motion?
na ko aainda, na gujishta,
jo ho chuka hain woh ho raha hai, jo hone waala hain, ho raha hai,
main sochta hoon ki kya ye mumkin hai, sacch ye ho ki safar mein hum hai, guzarate hum hain,
jise samajte hain hum guzarata hai, woh thama hai,
guzarta hai ya thama hua hain, ikai hai ya bataa hua hai
hai munjimid, ya pighal raha hain, kise khabar hai? kise pata hai?
Can it be that in this one moment, all moments, all centuries are hidden?
No future! No past!
Past is happening now. Future is happening now.
I think, can it be possible, that this be true that WE are in motion? that WE pass by?
And what we think is moving, is actually motionless.
Moving or not moving? Indivisible or divided? Is it frozen or is it melting?
Who knows? Who can guess?
What is time?
ye kainaate azim, lagta hain aapni ajmat se, aaj bhi mutmain nahi hai
ki lamha lamha, vasiitar aur vasiitar, hoti jaa rahi hai
yeh apni baahen pasaarti hain, ye kehkashao ki ungliyon se naye khalao ko chhu rahi hai
agar ye such hai to har tasvvur ki had se bahar, magar kahi par yakinan, eisa koi khala hai
ki jis ko in kehkashao ki ungliyo ne ab tak chua nahi hai
khala jahan kuch hua nahi hai, khala ki jisne kisi se bhi ‘kun’ nahi suna hai
jahan abhi tak khuda nahi hai, vahin koi waqt bhi na ho
At every moment, it expands more and more.
If this is true, outside the bounds of all we can imagine, somewhere there will certainly be a part of space, which so far has not been touched with its fingers,
agar jamam hain to maut bhi hain
main sochta hoon, ye such nahi hai, ki waqt ki koi ibtida hai, na intaha hai,
ye dor lambi bahut hain lekin, kahi to is dor ka sira hai
abhi ye insan ulajh raha hai, ki waqt ke is kafs mai
paida hua, yahi voh pala badha hai
magar uses elm ho gaya hai, ki waqt ke is kaft ke bahar bhi ek fiza hai,
to sochta hain, puchhta hai, yeh waqt kya hain?
And then with its whole existence, it will cry, ‘Be!’ Then Time will be born there.
If there is birth, then there is death.
I think this is not true, that time has no end and no beginning.
The thread is very long but somewhere the thread will have an end.
Now mankind is confused because it was born in this cage of time and raised here.
But now man has discovered that outside the cage of time, there lies another part of space.
So he ponders and questions; what is time?
[Viveka]: What am I?
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