Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa
Listen, my dear friend — I have just one prayer to make.
I have been wandering everywhere, searching for that sweet, enchanting Beloved.
Whoever leads me to my Beloved — I would give them anything, even for a single instant's sight of the One.
My eyes are soaked with love for my Beloved; without the One I have no peace even for a moment.
My mind clings to the One like a fish to water, like the rainbird thirsting for the raindrop.
Servant Nanak has found the perfect teacher; my thirst is completely quenched.
The first Chhant verse pours out the longing in full flood. "I would cut off my head and offer it" to whoever leads her to the Beloved — the extravagant language of love, meaning: there is nothing I would not give. And the love-similes return, the raag's signature: the fish and water, the rainbird and raindrop — love as vital necessity, not preference (as in Shabad 21). Then the turn: "Servant Nanak has found the Perfect Guru; his thirst is totally quenched." The wandering search ends not by the seeker finding the Beloved but by finding the teacher, who opens the door. The thirst that felt endless is, at last, satisfied.
Have you ever wanted something so much you'd give anything for even a glimpse of it? What would it feel like to finally have that thirst quenched?
Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa·How we use AI