Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa
The One who keeps the whole world alive showed me kindness. The Guru's teaching came and made a home inside my mind. The Maker claimed me as its very own — and the moment that happened, the whole city of sorrow I'd been living in was torn down to the ground.
The striking image here is "dukh kaa dayraa dhaahiaa" — the encampment of sorrow was demolished. Not just a passing sadness pushed aside, but a whole settled city of suffering knocked flat. Think about how sorrow actually works: it doesn't visit for a moment, it moves in. It builds streets and houses in us — a habit of worry here, a wound that won't heal there, a fear we've lived with so long it feels like home. Guru Arjan says grace doesn't just sweep one room; it demolishes the entire city.
And notice the order of events, which is the whole teaching of this opening line. First "keenee daiaa" — mercy came. Then "gur ke charan vase man maahee" — the Guru's teaching took up residence in the mind. Then the sorrow-city fell. The demolition is not something the person did by willpower. They didn't fight sorrow street by street. They let something better move in — the teaching, the One — and the sorrow simply lost its lease. This is the qMonk pattern again: you don't defeat darkness by attacking it; you let in light, and the darkness has nowhere to stay.
"Angeekaar kee-aa" — the One claimed me, made me its own. To be claimed is to belong, and belonging is the opposite of the loneliness that builds sorrow's city in the first place. The Rahao-line sets up the rest of the shabad: once the One has claimed you and the sorrow-city is gone, everything looks different.
Is there a worry or sadness that has "moved in" and started to feel permanent? What good thing, if you let it in, might give it less room?
Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa·How we use AI