Learning Begins with Unlearning

-

Portrait sketch of the 17th-century Punjabi Sufi poet Bulleh Shah
Bulleh Shah (1680–1757), the Punjabi Sufi poet whose verses question identity and the nature of the self

One of the first steps in learning is unlearning.

For a life of continuous learning, as Sir suggests, one must first empty oneself of pretenses and prejudices. Only then does the ground become ready for real learning.

In this context, I am reminded of a beautiful Sufi song written by Bulleh Shah, the 17th century Sufi poet from Punjab. The poem is written in the second person, and therefore reads as if Bulleh Shah is addressing himself: “Bulleya, I know not who I am.”

The song “Bulleya Ki Jaana” is sung by Rabbi Shergill. In spirit, it reflects something similar to the neti-neti approach in Indian philosophy — the path of negation. By denying every identity and label, one gradually strips away false notions of the self, until only the pure awareness of one's true nature remains.

Below is a translation of the song:

Bulleya, I know not who I am.

Neither am I a believer in the mosque,
Nor am I among the rituals of non-believers.

Neither pure among the impure,
Nor do I exist in the Vedas.

Neither in opium nor in liquor,
Nor in the intoxication of the drunkard.

Neither in happiness nor in sorrow.

Neither clean nor a muddy mire,
Neither of water nor of land,
Neither of fire nor of air.

Bulleya, I know not who I am.

Neither am I Arabic nor from Lahore,
Neither from the Indian city of Nagaur.

Neither a Hindu nor a Turk of Peshawar,
Nor have I discovered the secrets of religion.

Nor was I born of Adam and Eve,
I am not the name I assume.

From beginning to end I tried to understand myself,
Yet none other have I ever known.

I am not simply another wise man.

Bulleh Shah asks,
Who is this man standing here?

Bulleya, I know not who I am.

Neither Moses nor the Pharaoh,
Neither awake nor lost in sleep.

Neither of fire nor of air,
Nor do I dwell in the city of innocents.

Neither in stillness nor in movement.

Bulleh Shah asks again,
Who is this man standing here?

Bulleya, I know not who I am.



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

Weekend Musings: What One Life Taught Me About Peace

-
Image
  Remembering Albert Schweitzer For reasons I cannot fully explain, Albert Schweitzer came back to me recently. My first encounter with him was in childhood, when I was barely ten or twelve. I remember a book — blue in colour — far beyond my reading ability at that age. I remember his photograph inside. I remember that it spoke of peace and of service to humanity. I understood neither in any meaningful way, yet something stayed. Perhaps children recognise sincerity before they understand ideas. Life moved on. Over five decades, his name would surface now and then — in passing references, in conversations, in lists of Nobel Peace Prize winners — but I never found the time, or perhaps the inner readiness, to go deeper. And yet, the impression never faded. Today, that unfinished encounter seems to ask for closure. Albert Schweitzer was many things: theologian, philosopher, musician, doctor. But what sets him apart is not achievement; it is choice. At a time when intellectual recognit...
Read more

Weekend Musings: The Female Gaze

-
Image
The Enigmatic Look Women Give One Another I have often wondered what women think when they look at one another. It is usually a silent assessment—nothing said aloud—only a quick scanning with the eyes, absorbing little details. That look is intriguing, and I have never quite understood what goes on in their minds in those brief moments. The other day, at the all-ladies branch of my bank, a woman was standing in front of me—businesslike, with two thick pay-in slip books, sorting out some issue with her account. At the next counter, another woman kept watching her intently. I assumed she was connected to the matter, but the nature of her gaze was different. It even made the customer conscious; she suddenly behaved more “official,” as if putting on an armour. The atmosphere felt slightly uncomfortable. And then, almost casually, the woman at the counter remarked on the customer’s earrings—fish-shaped, unique, and beautiful. That broke the tension immediately. But it left me even more puzz...
Read more

Weekend Musings: The Leap of the Frog — A Moment in Haiku

-
Image
 An old silent pond— a frog jumps into the pond, splash! Silence again. This weekend’s Musings arose from an invitation to reflect on these lines by Matsuo Bashō. What began as an invitation soon turned into a gentle challenge, as it became clear that the poem invites many ways of seeing. It can even invite silence, as we honour the stillness of the pond. The image is simple, almost bare. A still pond. A sudden leap. A brief splash. And then silence again. Nothing is explained, nothing is concluded. What is offered is a moment, complete in itself. Yet, being a Musing, I must still arrive at my own reading. In these lines, Bashō draws us into a world where there is no past or future — both constructs of the mind, or the ego. He lives entirely moment to moment, in full awareness of it. The past becomes nothing more than memory, a storehouse of conditioning, biases, and habits. The future is merely the drama projected from that past. In such a state of awareness, action is no longer ...
Read more

Weekend Story: When Meaning Outweighs Medals

-
Image
Yusra and Sarah Mardini — swimmers, sisters, survivors From the Aegean Night to the Olympic Light There are stories that win medals, and there are stories that win something far rarer — our quiet admiration for what human beings can rise to when life strips them to the barest essentials. The story of Yusra and Sarah Mardini — two young sisters from Syria — belongs to the second kind. Long before the world knew their names, they were just teenagers in Damascus, daughters, students, swimmers. Then the war came, as wars always do — without warning, without reason, without mercy. When they fled their shattered city in 2015, they carried almost nothing except a skill they had learned in childhood: the ability to stay afloat. They were not fleeing a camp. They were fleeing a collapsing homeland. The sisters first escaped from Damascus to Lebanon, and from there made their way to Turkey — the staging point for many refugees trying to reach Europe. From Turkey, they boarded an overcrowded rubb...
Read more

Weekend Musings: The Harmony of Body, Mind, and Air

-
Image
She fell twice, the third time made history. A move so dangerous even the World's trapeze artists rarely attempt it: Anna Gosudareva. The more I saw this video, with the caption above, the more I felt that there is something much more to it than a successful attempt after two failed ones. The young acrobat, Anna Gosudareva, has achieved something extraordinary and rarely performed — a quadruple somersault on a Russian bar. The video actually led me to read more, and the more I learned, the more I realised how exceptional this feat is — a genuine peak of human capability, combining strength, timing, mind control, trust, and fearlessness. A Russian bar is a long, slightly flexible pole held on the shoulders of two base performers. The flyer stands on this bar and uses it like a launchpad. When Anna attempts her somersaults, three bodies — hers and the two bases — must move with perfect synchrony. A tiny mistiming of a fraction of a second can send her off-axis. Even a slight tremor ...
Read more