Let me assure Nilanjana Roy that Kabir and Lalla would be treated to a rousing reception were they to “miraculously” appear today (“Lalla and Kabir, resurrected,” June 21). And it would not be because of elitist critics like her but because of the much-derided lay Indians who have the ability to differentiate between the attention-grabbing antics of a James Laine or a Joseph Lelyveld and the genuine offence caused by Kabir’s biting sarcasm aimed at reforming Indian society.
Unlike latter-day anarchists or reformists, who use shallow offensive remarks as a shortcut to success and stardom, rebels like Kabir, Rahim Khankhana, Jayasee and Lalla remained rooted in the societies they attempted to deliver from the darkness of ignorance and superstition.
Two dohas from Kabir would suffice to bring out the honesty and clarity of purpose of the poetry of Bhakti Movement’s various exponents:
Patthar pooje hari mile, toh main poojoon pahaar
Tatey toh chakki bhalee, pees khaaye Sansar
(If one can find god by worshipping a stone, I would worship mountains. A flour mill (made of the same stone) is of much more practical use to the common man, it at least fills his belly.)
Again,
Kankar-pathar jori ke, masjid
layee banaaye
Ta charrhi mulla baang de, behera hua khudaya
(Why is the mullah crowing from the rooftop of a mosque made of brick and mortar? Has god turned deaf?)
Kabir’s directness and his oneness with the masses was the reason his criticism of idol-worship was accepted by Hindus and the futility of the ritual of namaaz was acknowledged by Muslims in the medieval ages. Contrast this with today’s cacophony when street-smart faithfuls slug it out with armchair preachers and modernist crusaders over something as innocuous as singing Vandemataram.
Ajay Tyagi, Mumba
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