Raag Aasaa, Birharray (Songs of Separation), Mehl 5 (Guru Arjan)
The third Song of Separation — longing resolved into complete, restful surrender. Closes the Aasaa Ashtapadee section.
The Arc
The last of the three Birharray, and the seal of the whole Ashtapadee block (its closing tally ||8||3||22||15||2||42|| counts up the entire set). Each verse is one line sealed with pi-aaray, and the movement is longing dissolving into trust so complete it becomes rest. Verse 1 opens on the relief of being fully known: sabh bidh tum hee jaante — You know my condition in every way; kis peh kaha-o, who else would I tell? Verse 2 grounds all existence in one open hand: too daataa jee-aa sabhnaa kaa — Giver of all beings, who eat and wear what You give. Verse 3 places joy and pain at the same trusted source: sukh dukh tayree aagi-aa — both by Your order, no other source. Verse 4 sets down the burden of self-authorship: jo too karaaveh so karee — whatever You cause, I do — release, not fatalism. Verse 5 declares that remembrance makes all days and nights beautiful (din rain sabh suhaavane). Verse 6 names life's given shape — the work written on the brow — comfort, not weight. Verse 7 widens to the vision that dissolves separation itself: eko aap varatdaa, ghat ghat — the One alone at work, dwelling in every heart. And verse 8 closes the section on the humblest reach of all: sansaar koop tay udhar lai — lift me from the deep pit of the world — har sarnaae, I have taken Your Sanctuary.
Key Vocabulary
Sabh bidh tum hee jaante (v.1) — You know my every condition: the relief of being fully known, with no one else needing to be told.
Daataa (v.2) — the Giver: the whole world as one household fed and clothed from a single open hand.
Sukh dukh tayree aagi-aa (v.3) — pleasure and pain by Your Will: both from one trusted source; no rival power, no second door for trouble.
Jo too karaaveh so karee (v.4) — whatever You cause, I do: the burden of self-authorship set down; release, not resignation.
Din rain sabh suhaavane (v.5) — all days and nights made beautiful: remembrance transforms every hour, not only the happy ones.
Dhur mastak lekh (v.6) — the writ on the brow: life's given shape — a thread to follow, not a blank page to fill under pressure.
Ghat ghat rahi-aa samaae (v.7) — pervading every heart: the vision that dissolves separation — the Beloved never actually absent from any heart.
Sansaar koop / sarnaae (v.8) — the world's deep pit / Sanctuary: the closing posture — reach up, hold on, take refuge.
Translation Notes
Verse 6 — dhur mastak lekh likhaae. SSK: "the deeds pre-ordained and inscribed upon his forehead." The 'writ on the brow' is a stock Gurbani image for destiny; in this context of trust it functions as reassurance (your life has a given shape) rather than grim determinism. The children's section renders it as "the work that was written for us from the very start" — keeping the given-ness without the fatalistic chill.
Verse 3 — jo too karaaveh so karee. Faithful to SSK. Worth noting that Gurbani's "I can do nothing" verses are not denials of moral effort but affirmations of dependence — the ego's claim to sole authorship is what's set down. The children's section frames this as relief ("setting down the belief that everything depends only on you"), which is the verse's devotional intent.
Closing tally ||8||3||22||15||2||42||. These numerals are the scribal count sealing not just the shabad but the whole Ashtapadee grouping (42 compositions in the tally) — a bookkeeping signature, not part of the sung text.
Themes and Cross-Connections
This song completes the bhaanaa (glad acceptance of the Will) thread that runs through the neighboring hymns — jo tudh bhaavai so bhalaa in B00C928 (v.7) and B00C930 (v.6) becomes here an entire song about resting in the Will. Verse 7's ghat ghat (the One in every heart) ties the intimate Songs of Separation back to the raag's great non-dual verses — Nanak's "Light in all" (B00C662), the "same color" union-logic (B00C808), Mehl 3's "never think Him far — always watching" (B00C924) — resolving the very premise of separation: the Beloved longed-for is discovered to have been present in every heart all along. And the closing sarnaae (Sanctuary) is the raag's, and the whole tradition's, final posture — the same refuge that seals countless hymns and the daily Ardaas: not achievement but taking-shelter. As the last verse of the Ashtapadee section, "lift me from the pit — I have taken Your Sanctuary" is a fitting rest-point before the raag turns to the great acrostic Patti (B00C932) and, beyond it, Aasaa ki Vaar.
For Raag Aasaa
The three Songs of Separation end not in yearning but in homecoming-by-trust. This final song hands a child the deepest form of hope Aasaa has to offer: you are fully known, fully provided for, held through both the good days and the hard ones, following a life with a given shape, and never — it turns out — actually separated at all, because the One you long for lives inside every heart, including your own. And when it all feels like too much, the truest and simplest thing remains: reach up, hold on, and ask to be lifted. That reach is not weakness. In the raag of hope, it is the whole of wisdom.
The third Song of Separation — longing resolved into complete, restful surrender. Closes the Aasaa Ashtapadee section.
The Arc
The last of the three Birharray, and the seal of the whole Ashtapadee block (its closing tally ||8||3||22||15||2||42|| counts up the entire set). Each verse is one line sealed with pi-aaray, and the movement is longing dissolving into trust so complete it becomes rest. Verse 1 opens on the relief of being fully known: sabh bidh tum hee jaante — You know my condition in every way; kis peh kaha-o, who else would I tell? Verse 2 grounds all existence in one open hand: too daataa jee-aa sabhnaa kaa — Giver of all beings, who eat and wear what You give. Verse 3 places joy and pain at the same trusted source: sukh dukh tayree aagi-aa — both by Your order, no other source. Verse 4 sets down the burden of self-authorship: jo too karaaveh so karee — whatever You cause, I do — release, not fatalism. Verse 5 declares that remembrance makes all days and nights beautiful (din rain sabh suhaavane). Verse 6 names life's given shape — the work written on the brow — comfort, not weight. Verse 7 widens to the vision that dissolves separation itself: eko aap varatdaa, ghat ghat — the One alone at work, dwelling in every heart. And verse 8 closes the section on the humblest reach of all: sansaar koop tay udhar lai — lift me from the deep pit of the world — har sarnaae, I have taken Your Sanctuary.
Key Vocabulary
Translation Notes
Themes and Cross-Connections
This song completes the bhaanaa (glad acceptance of the Will) thread that runs through the neighboring hymns — jo tudh bhaavai so bhalaa in B00C928 (v.7) and B00C930 (v.6) becomes here an entire song about resting in the Will. Verse 7's ghat ghat (the One in every heart) ties the intimate Songs of Separation back to the raag's great non-dual verses — Nanak's "Light in all" (B00C662), the "same color" union-logic (B00C808), Mehl 3's "never think Him far — always watching" (B00C924) — resolving the very premise of separation: the Beloved longed-for is discovered to have been present in every heart all along. And the closing sarnaae (Sanctuary) is the raag's, and the whole tradition's, final posture — the same refuge that seals countless hymns and the daily Ardaas: not achievement but taking-shelter. As the last verse of the Ashtapadee section, "lift me from the pit — I have taken Your Sanctuary" is a fitting rest-point before the raag turns to the great acrostic Patti (B00C932) and, beyond it, Aasaa ki Vaar.
For Raag Aasaa
The three Songs of Separation end not in yearning but in homecoming-by-trust. This final song hands a child the deepest form of hope Aasaa has to offer: you are fully known, fully provided for, held through both the good days and the hard ones, following a life with a given shape, and never — it turns out — actually separated at all, because the One you long for lives inside every heart, including your own. And when it all feels like too much, the truest and simplest thing remains: reach up, hold on, and ask to be lifted. That reach is not weakness. In the raag of hope, it is the whole of wisdom.
Last updated: 2026-07-05