Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa
When you're soaked through with what's real, you start to *love* what's real — it becomes its own reward, not a chore.
And this gift, once the One gives it, never gets snatched back. The One doesn't give and then regret giving. Through the Word, truth becomes something you know for good — and meeting it brings a deep, settled peace.
This stanza answers a quiet fear that anyone on a path feels: what if I lose it? What if the clarity, the peace, the closeness fades? Guru Amar Das addresses it directly. Aapay day-ay na pachhotaavai — the One bestows this gift Himself, and does not regret it. There is no taking-back, no probation, no fine print. A gift given by grace is given for keeps.
The first line states the self-reinforcing nature of the real life: jo sach ratay tin sacho bhaavai — those dyed in truth come to love truth. Once the color has soaked in, you no longer have to discipline yourself toward it; you are drawn to it. The earlier stanza made truth pleasing; this one shows that pleasure deepening into love, and love making the whole thing self-sustaining. You don't white-knuckle your way to the One. You fall for it, and then it carries you.
Notice again the grammar of grace. The human verbs are all receptive — attuned, given to, knowing, meeting. The active giver is the One: "the Lord Himself bestows." And the fruit is sukh, peace — the settled ease of someone who has met what is real and discovered it cannot be lost. This is the opposite of the manmukh's circling pain: a stillness that holds.
Have you ever loved something so much that doing the right thing stopped feeling like effort?
Translation by Dr. Sant Singh Khalsa·How we use AI