So Didi, my fav naami aunt, and my 5-year-old cousin brother Tornado (more about his name shortly) from hell (more about his origin shortly) were relaxing at the beach. Well, I was trying to relax - it's not that easy to relax with a 5 year-old cousin brother named Tornado from Hell terrorizing the seagulls and all other species on this planet (seen and unseen).
Didi care-freely meditating, suddenly opened her eyes, turned to me and asked me to recite the 3rd stanza of Guru Nanak's Jap Ji. I had just rubbed suntan lotion all over my 12-year-old fab bod and was ready to impress some female members of the human species. But when Didi asked you to do something, you basically did it because ... because .. come to think of it, I'm not sure why - but you just did.
So she read the gurmukhi part, while I translated best as I could:
gaavai ko thaan hovai kisai thaan The True One's praises are sung with the amount of strength that the True One bestows upon the singer (and usually the inner strength is reciprocally proportional [who said middle-school mathematics won't help you in real life] to the amount of outer strength - you know - book-thumping, foot-stomping, such-and-such-is-the-lord-ing).
gaavai ko dhaath jaanai neesaan Some sing of the One's gifts using these as a sure sign that the True One is around (and listening, so more gifts would be on the way).
gaavai ko gun vaddiaaeeaa chaar gaavai ko vidhiaa vikham veechaar Some sing of the True One by discussing the True One's virtues (you know, Ek-Ong-Kaar, Sat Naam, Karta... wow!Guru! WaheGuru) while other take the more scholarly approach (you know, Ek-Ong-Kaar, Sat Naam, Karta... wow!Guru! WaheGuru).
gaavai ko saaj karae than khaeh gaavai ko jeea lai fir dhaeh
Some sing that the True One creates the bods (like my fab one), and then again reduces it to dust (ouch!). Some sing that the One takes life away, and then again restores it (somehow this reminds me of the movie "The Sixth Sense" - if you haven't seen it - oh, you are missing a fabulous one, dearies).
gaavai ko jaapai dhisai dhoor gaavai ko vaekhai haadharaa hadhoor
Some sing that the One is infinitely far away, while others see the True One all over the place.
kathhanaa kathhee n aavai thott kathh kathh kathhee kottee kott kott
There is no shortage of words uttered in the One's praise. Millions upon millions of sermons and stories have been delivered (to millions of millions of sleepy ears).
dhaedhaa dhae laidhae thhak paahi jugaa juga(n)thar khaahee khaahi
The Great Giver keeps on giving, so much so that the receivers grow weary of receiving. Throughout the ages, consumers consume (entire economies of nations depend on consuming - hope they don't take it away).
hukamee hukam chalaaeae raahu naanak vigasai vaeparavaahu (3)
All walk on the path of the True One's will. O Nanak, while the True One watches blissfully, carefree and untroubled.
"Thank you!" Didi said and promptly got up and left! Pretty unusual - she usually had a story or something after we read the Guru's words. I stared lazily at her for a while, shrugged my fab shoulders and decided the Sun and some fab females members of the human species needed some fab attention.
The next thing I know, Tornado was shaking my fab elbow and grinning (his grin usually meant calamity for some species), "What comes after 99?" asked he.
I told him after deciding it's not worth the effort to find out why he wants to know. He grinned again - showing his yellow teeth. "Tornado, when was the last time you brushed your teeth?!" He was thoughtful for a while and asked, "What year is it?" I let it go and waved him away - sometimes ignorance is bliss.
You probably already have an idea why his name is Tornado and why he's from hell. But let me divulge into it a bit more...
Well, just suppose you have a sister who really annoys you and sometimes even embarrasses you in front of others and just suppose you want to get back at her and you want to leave no traces whatsoever and just suppose Tornado is visiting you (from hell) and your sis happens to be at a slumber party with her dorky friends - please note this is all just suppositions - nothing like this ever happened.
So this is what you would do - hide a can of Coke (or any caffeine-fueled beverage) and a bunch of candies in sis's neat, manicured room. Then take Tornado to her room; tell him where the can of Coke is; slowly back out of the room (keeping your eyes on him while you leave) and GET AWAY (after locking the door from the outside) as far as you can (having an alibi is highly recommended). Within minutes, her room would be unrecognizable. There, that's how he got his name.
Of course, some of you smart ones are saying, "Well, didn't Tornado simply tell on you?"
Well, dear smarty ones, Tornado, by my calculations, is coherent only 18% of the time - and he was in the 82% mode when the interrogation happened (I mean *would* happen - once again, no such thing happened).
Anyway, let's get back to my fab bod on the beach...
So I'm hanging out when I felt someone sitting next to me - thinking maybe Didi had come back, when I turned around to see... (I'm not sure how to stay politically correct here) .. the hottest young female member of the human species I have ever set my eyes on sitting next to me. I mean sizzling hot! (No, I am not falling for the "How hot was she?" routine this time).
All my ten bodies (yes, we have 10 of those) went into high red alert. My spine involuntarily elongated. And I turned to her (all puffed and macho) and said, "You come here..."
"Often?!" she completed my sentence, "Oh Pluuuease! Is that the best you could come up with, kiddo?"
Five of my fab bods deflated. But there were still 5 left (including the outer fab one), "I am not a kiddo! I am actually ..."
"12 years, 5 months, 2 days, 14 hours, 23 minutes and 57 seconds old. Yes, I know! ... And please deflate the rest of your bodies, I know the actual true puny dimensions of all of them!"
I stared at her and unconsciously covered my fab (now in non-fab flab mode) bod.
"Who are you?!!" I managed to ask through my bewilderement.
"I am the One!"
I stared at her, "The One?!"
"Yes, the One who pervades all!"
"But you are so..."
"Hot?! Yes, I know."
"But I thought you would be ..."
".. an old-ish man with a gray-ish beard pointing my old-ish gray-ish judgemental-ish finger at you?! That is soooo Piscean-ish... This is the new age, kiddo - get used to it!"
read next part...
Didi care-freely meditating, suddenly opened her eyes, turned to me and asked me to recite the 3rd stanza of Guru Nanak's Jap Ji. I had just rubbed suntan lotion all over my 12-year-old fab bod and was ready to impress some female members of the human species. But when Didi asked you to do something, you basically did it because ... because .. come to think of it, I'm not sure why - but you just did.
So she read the gurmukhi part, while I translated best as I could:
gaavai ko thaan hovai kisai thaan The True One's praises are sung with the amount of strength that the True One bestows upon the singer (and usually the inner strength is reciprocally proportional [who said middle-school mathematics won't help you in real life] to the amount of outer strength - you know - book-thumping, foot-stomping, such-and-such-is-the-lord-ing).
gaavai ko dhaath jaanai neesaan Some sing of the One's gifts using these as a sure sign that the True One is around (and listening, so more gifts would be on the way).
gaavai ko gun vaddiaaeeaa chaar gaavai ko vidhiaa vikham veechaar Some sing of the True One by discussing the True One's virtues (you know, Ek-Ong-Kaar, Sat Naam, Karta... wow!Guru! WaheGuru) while other take the more scholarly approach (you know, Ek-Ong-Kaar, Sat Naam, Karta... wow!Guru! WaheGuru).
gaavai ko saaj karae than khaeh gaavai ko jeea lai fir dhaeh
Some sing that the True One creates the bods (like my fab one), and then again reduces it to dust (ouch!). Some sing that the One takes life away, and then again restores it (somehow this reminds me of the movie "The Sixth Sense" - if you haven't seen it - oh, you are missing a fabulous one, dearies).
gaavai ko jaapai dhisai dhoor gaavai ko vaekhai haadharaa hadhoor
Some sing that the One is infinitely far away, while others see the True One all over the place.
kathhanaa kathhee n aavai thott kathh kathh kathhee kottee kott kott
There is no shortage of words uttered in the One's praise. Millions upon millions of sermons and stories have been delivered (to millions of millions of sleepy ears).
dhaedhaa dhae laidhae thhak paahi jugaa juga(n)thar khaahee khaahi
The Great Giver keeps on giving, so much so that the receivers grow weary of receiving. Throughout the ages, consumers consume (entire economies of nations depend on consuming - hope they don't take it away).
hukamee hukam chalaaeae raahu naanak vigasai vaeparavaahu (3)
All walk on the path of the True One's will. O Nanak, while the True One watches blissfully, carefree and untroubled.
"Thank you!" Didi said and promptly got up and left! Pretty unusual - she usually had a story or something after we read the Guru's words. I stared lazily at her for a while, shrugged my fab shoulders and decided the Sun and some fab females members of the human species needed some fab attention.
The next thing I know, Tornado was shaking my fab elbow and grinning (his grin usually meant calamity for some species), "What comes after 99?" asked he.
I told him after deciding it's not worth the effort to find out why he wants to know. He grinned again - showing his yellow teeth. "Tornado, when was the last time you brushed your teeth?!" He was thoughtful for a while and asked, "What year is it?" I let it go and waved him away - sometimes ignorance is bliss.
You probably already have an idea why his name is Tornado and why he's from hell. But let me divulge into it a bit more...
Well, just suppose you have a sister who really annoys you and sometimes even embarrasses you in front of others and just suppose you want to get back at her and you want to leave no traces whatsoever and just suppose Tornado is visiting you (from hell) and your sis happens to be at a slumber party with her dorky friends - please note this is all just suppositions - nothing like this ever happened.
So this is what you would do - hide a can of Coke (or any caffeine-fueled beverage) and a bunch of candies in sis's neat, manicured room. Then take Tornado to her room; tell him where the can of Coke is; slowly back out of the room (keeping your eyes on him while you leave) and GET AWAY (after locking the door from the outside) as far as you can (having an alibi is highly recommended). Within minutes, her room would be unrecognizable. There, that's how he got his name.
Of course, some of you smart ones are saying, "Well, didn't Tornado simply tell on you?"
Well, dear smarty ones, Tornado, by my calculations, is coherent only 18% of the time - and he was in the 82% mode when the interrogation happened (I mean *would* happen - once again, no such thing happened).
Anyway, let's get back to my fab bod on the beach...
So I'm hanging out when I felt someone sitting next to me - thinking maybe Didi had come back, when I turned around to see... (I'm not sure how to stay politically correct here) .. the hottest young female member of the human species I have ever set my eyes on sitting next to me. I mean sizzling hot! (No, I am not falling for the "How hot was she?" routine this time).
All my ten bodies (yes, we have 10 of those) went into high red alert. My spine involuntarily elongated. And I turned to her (all puffed and macho) and said, "You come here..."
"Often?!" she completed my sentence, "Oh Pluuuease! Is that the best you could come up with, kiddo?"
Five of my fab bods deflated. But there were still 5 left (including the outer fab one), "I am not a kiddo! I am actually ..."
"12 years, 5 months, 2 days, 14 hours, 23 minutes and 57 seconds old. Yes, I know! ... And please deflate the rest of your bodies, I know the actual true puny dimensions of all of them!"
I stared at her and unconsciously covered my fab (now in non-fab flab mode) bod.
"Who are you?!!" I managed to ask through my bewilderement.
"I am the One!"
I stared at her, "The One?!"
"Yes, the One who pervades all!"
"But you are so..."
"Hot?! Yes, I know."
"But I thought you would be ..."
".. an old-ish man with a gray-ish beard pointing my old-ish gray-ish judgemental-ish finger at you?! That is soooo Piscean-ish... This is the new age, kiddo - get used to it!"
read next part...
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