Imperfect Pasoori

Imperfect, that's who we are, at the most fundamental level. We can all think of imperfect moments from our past - and in our present character, it’s the nature of what it is to be a human being with an apriori truth of higher morality, without which the realization of the idea of imperfect would not exist, matter cannot know imperfection. The only conclusion for why any idea exists, is the reality of the idea of God, absolutely expansive, in giving the gift of imagining, virtually, anything, and based on any given circumstantial reality - created conscious agents - can arrive at an imaginative story for that reality predicated on an enlightened interpretation of the empirical data; the result of any idea is proof of the expansiveness of the conscious human agent’s imagination to comprehend the expansiveness being experienced in its unveiling entirety. It’s absolutely brilliant - the Power of it, we are creatures who constantly reflect on the past to pose ideas about the future, so as to avoid an inevitable feeling, regret - a spiraling self-inflicted misery - the root of imperfection, a feeling absent within the idea of Lucifer. We are being taught - some would say brainwashed - to direct our regrets at others, it’s unfair, and will lead to unraveling chaos. We need to understand the roots of the idea of imperfection, there are many, all unique and predicated, ultimately, on the degree to which conscious agents allow the environment to dictate the terms related to the anchoring fixation on some [external] thing, labeled imperfection - a completely made-up abstraction with no bearing on the real world - it’s just an idea; those who want to provoke bring attention to imperfections without taking into account the context and the scope, so they can watch the chaos unfold - the idea of evil.

There is a secret regarding the inherent imperfections within human beings, it determines if the idea of reason is true - will the reality of the idea of Passori materialize, the harder the anchoring to the idea of imperfection, the worse the [subconscious] regret, the worse the regret the more one tolerates imperfection, whilst at the same time - bizarrely - exposing imperfections in others, the contradictions are becoming extreme, the result is a disorienting and mindless anxiety - unenlightened tribes fighting unenlightened tribes, the opportunity to turn around and not pursue imperfect Pasoori is an ever-available choice - we can walk-away from focusing on the illusory idea of imperfect.

As an idea, Jesus Christ - eternal blessings be upon his eternally blessed soul - is the hero who is careless about his personal power - for all to see - choosing instead to pursue the enlightened path of teaching through eloquent speech - the reality of the idea of the enlightened European intellectual - nearly forgotten and being replaced with bigots who want to divide. Jesus Christ had no awareness of the idea of imperfect, therefore was powerful and knowing - its the only thing that exists as true - to see the world as it absolutely is, thus the idea of a Savior is an ideal present within the idea of the Father - as a character trait, with the Father wanting that feeling within his children - especially his favorite Son - the one he knows would give his life to save the life of his imperfect friends, the sinners - the unknowing ones who are directed by those who believe they are perfect in their anchoring to the circumstantial and illusory notion of excess.

Love endlessly extends to those modest lovers - imperfect in the perfection of privacy, its why those who live thru the idea of the Messiah “the one who saves” are the rightly guided - the leaders of the group, who must sacrifice to maintain harmony and life - they immerse themselves into the ideas of the tradition where the Father weepingly relents to the loving request of the son to save those whom have experienced none - created to test the limits of love - and in doing so proving that love is indeed true and is forever, there is no such thing as imperfection just an anchoring to the idea of it and attempting to change the, circumstantial, nature of existence as a result, totally unnecessarily. The sinner is born, it’s the community that decides the degree to which the sin is unveiled and normalized, the worst sin being the act of evil - the unnecessarily merciless one - going out of one’s way to hurt an innocent.

The idea of the lover and the beloved is a feeling, like cycling on a hot summers day towards the next camp site and - after a hard days slog - then immersing yourself into the freshwater of Lake Kennedy, its absolutely refreshing - it’s like being reborn - the water facilitates the process of understanding the idea of becoming One with that feeling - the root of love, its constantly being aware of an opportunity to be reborn, the feeling of being refreshed and the feeling of good is the same - redemption through imperfection - therefore one can continue and endlessly have the feeling of being reborn - as long as the environment creates such an opportunity, the circumstantial matter can be organized in an infinite number of ways, the key in ingredient is consciousnesses (plural) - there must be more than one. There is no realization of the Talib without the patient Shaykh dropping pearls of refreshing water - sprinkling. The scriptures contextualize the implications of regret and then provide a path to navigate around the evil of those who hijack and manipulate feelings so as to excessively indulge in their own feelings - haha, the greedy Pharisees deluded in their momentary pursuit of power - turning their back on the backdrop of infinity - unable to look up and see the expansive truth of time and space - on a moonless crystal clear night; imperfection is not evil thus will not suffer, except if one chooses the desire of excess.

The gift of the scriptures is like that of a friend who speaks honestly about the consequences related to the feelings of imperfection - excessive want - whilst demonstrating that the ultimate power is with the one who knows they are alive and will be so eternally. There is no actual loneliness, the truth of the beloved showers down on a clear warm night with a full moon. Don’t follow those who want to unsettle the public sphere, imperfections are private, and personal indulgences are a game with those who also don’t want to hurt anyone - shyness is the barometer of the state of the heart, privacy allows one to be as free as one requires with those whom one trustingly prefers.

Our reality is not simple, it’s elegantly expansive, in its Pasoori.

Agg lavaan majboori nu - forget the world and its problems, the conflicts are not of my doing and out of my control - I’m nothing - the alluring zero accountability of atheism a poison I cannot help but say yes to - I want to indulge. Aana si o nai aaya - everything is missed, nothing has value, my heart beats only for the beat of the burning man, under an illusion from the one who talks to the black crow wanting to know the magic of deception, baked into the system, addictively sweet - the grinning grimacing face projecting an illusion that is encircling. I know the truth of the lie, the shimmering illusion of excess undeniable - the only temptress, nothing can stop me, the only love is that of pleasure, I seek the material world everywhere, it’s for me only - temporal and finite - I indulge still wanting more. Aa jaavay dil tera poora vi na hovay - even if the desires of the sensually circumstantial world gave me everything, it wouldn’t be enough, I’d seek more - I want more - at any cost. The opening bars of the song Pasoori is not open, it’s closed with a selfish lover who has been misled - the magic of deception - into the false belief of tribalism related to individuality - my way only, ending up going round in circles, unaware.

I suddenly hear a new sound from a familiar voice, hear the sensual voice of alluring want, I turn and see the face of the beloved - created in the image of the one who can imagine perfection - there she sits. Bhul gayi majboori nu, Dunya di dastoori nu, Saath tera hai bathera, poora kar zaroori nu; I feel the melancholy from the beloved and suddenly realize her distress - the beloved only longs to be seen, it only takes the choice to see with the eye of certainty - above the problems of the world - the face of the shy [modest] woman - the highest metaphor of natural form, an infinite set of forms, all pointing higher still, where just the eyes reveal all that needs to be revealed. Now, I see only the face, wanting to know more intimately the yearning within the beloved - why am I being sought, Aana si o nayi aaya, Raasata na dikhlaya, Dil hamara de sahara, Khaahishaat adhoori nu, The darkness of excessive indulgence deluded me, your distress was due to my choices, the cawing of the black crow is not the nightingale I thought it to be, I will strive to walk the path you choose, I struggle to fulfill your wishes.

The beloved dotes on the lover, calls out to the lover endlessly - Gal saaree taan hovay, its the only way the intimate conversation can happen, the beloved calls for the lover knowing that the lover will be unable to surrender completely “Aa jaavay dil tera poora vi na hovay” - little does the beloved know that the lover now returns the yearning for only a single glance from that face, nothing more, just a glance. The song forces a change in perspective, the actual Pasoori is revealed - to seek the beloved, fully aware - the path suddenly becomes clear.

The lover feels the voice of the beloved- Mere dhol judaiyaan di sandaari na hovay - the lover sees nothing else, the beloved is calling for the lover to return, seeing the light of truth the lover begins to sing in unison with the beloved, they see each other clearly - Aa chalein le ke tujhay - leaving together, Hain jahan silsilay - where there is no male or female - a place where only lovers exist, ever humbly submitting to the others love, endlessly deep. You are the perfectly imperfect - the heart and the needy body - Bana de saja de panah de humain. The lover and the beloved exquisite, nothing becomes nothing, the imagination free for lovers to love, the limits set by the shyness of unrequited love.

The choice to pursue imperfection is a momentary relapse to realize and know more

The song Pasoori exemplifies the reality of imperfection, to see only oneself, then seeing the other, and then becoming one, in feeling, aided by an orchestra that presents the good life, that slowly becomes shallow when it’s only the lover loving the self.

Humans are the only beings who can be taught in knowing that the previous moment necessarily leads to wisdom, the choice to act on wisdom is the distinction between those who pursue the idea of the feeling of balance, or knot. The beautiful struggle pushes one to explore the entire scope within the limitless boundaries of imagination & thought, in the context of any circumstantial reality - with the ability to then share the conclusions of well-thought-out ideas - wonderful, the challenge is when those with influence are under the illusion that they are in control - their lesson is provided to demonstrate the idea of delusion. The truth is simple, experts who focus on their assigned grain of sand have become myopic to the beauty of the expansive desert - in its multiplicity which needs to be accounted for, take a step back be in awe. Our existence is unimaginable.

The roots of the song is undeniably and quintessentially Indian - the most elegant; if the Muslims had only the drum with which to play along with the sound of the Nightingale, then the Vedic tradition introduced the world to beautiful music - meaning upon meaning layered within sound upon sound - epic. The song provides a wonderfully ironic perspective, you want to dance away - who doesn’t like musical sounds - without care, whilst understanding that the song is telling a tale about a balanced imagination - the beloved cares not for excess choosing only the attention of the lover’s eyes, the idea of Brahma is nothing which changes with the realization of the sound from Krishna’s flute, the dance elegant. The second irony of the song, being sung out in the shared open square, is the modesty, the dance appropriate, drawing everybody into the feeling felt in the exchange between lovers, its the feeling the song creates all else is irrelevant, a nice to have - materialism simply cannot be the only objective. The tradition of the continent is being kept beautifully alive, one is both with and then without, whilst also being without and then with - at the very same time - during the delivery of the song, the inflection point is the beloved, the fluctuation of life exists in the direction of one of two polar extremes, the beloved brings balance. The power of Punjabi is undeniable when describing Nirguna and Saguna - I wish I understood it better.

The song ends with Agg lavaan majboori nu. In the end, the state changes in an instant, realization enters, the world can continue in conflict, the face of the beloved is the only desire, now. The fire will overtake those who acted like the idea of fire - disregarding all - unthinking without reason. The idea of Pasoori is rooted in a contradiction, one cannot state there are an infinite set of paths to realize Brahma and then, absolutely unnecessarily, legislating against one path, where there is no objective other than separation, division, mass civil unrest, and chaos. The imperfection of Arjuna was knowledge, the dance of Krishna closed that gap, the Pasoori that remained was a moment where the balance was reset, so all could live and be in life, rather than an anxious and constant unknowing. It’s not productive to alienate and provoke a helpless minority so as to justify even more suppression and tyranny that will impact all, senseless. The Vedic tradition clearly outlines the consequences of allowing a contradiction to consume [Indian] civil society. The Hindu simply cannot lay claims to another’s path, especially in the context of historical time where all that remains are lessons for how to achieve unity. They only win if we let them, this is not time to be silent, it’s a time of reflection and good discourse, to help, assist and realize that imperfect Pasoori is ours, not theirs, all paths ultimately converge upon, you.

I touch the feet of the Brahmins, I am beginning to understand, a little bit more, the idea underpinning it all. My sincere thanks to Pakistan, in maintaining the tradition before the tradition, the one of innocent beautiful geet, that plays out a play - eternal - of the beloved and the lover; Inshallah there are fresh and peaceful elections and Prime Minister Khan can continue playing out his own story of Pasoori, going from a young man who worked hard to experience the world and then - in wisdom - realized his true beloved are those who realize the story of Arjuna - the one faced with the [shameless] injustice of an illegitimate leader and sought to establish the balance, Mr. Khan is for the people of Pakistan and the mechanism of democracy will allow the story to be realized with nothing but peaceful reason.

Our prayers are with you.