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Bulleh Shah | Neither am I virtuous nor a sinner.

Well Arain's are mostly zameendars, agriculturists. That's why they are thought of inferiors. me and @RazPaK are both arains
I know @RazPaK is Arain, well I'm a rajput known to be a warrior class , many many people in my family do belong to the Armed forces..
I don't realy believe that any caste is superior to another they are just a way of recognizing eachother
 
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and people mocked him by saying that Arain was inferior caste to Syeds.. Unfortunate thinking of somepeople!

Not much has changed though.

Idk if anyone posted this yet but this is my favorite Bulleh Shah poem. :)

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Chaudhary is a title though, Who got large agri lands, he is chahudhary

Was that always the case though? I think now in modern times anyone who has enough land calls himself a chaudry.
 
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Chaudhary is a title though, Who got large agri lands, he is chahudhary

Yup.

Lots of land.

They say Gujjars and Jats are higher in caste than us, but we've always had Gujjars milk our cows and Jats watch over the livestock.

Back in the day, people who used to own a horse were considered rich.

We used to have 12, 15 horses.
 
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Was that always the case though? I think now in modern times anyone who has enough land calls himself a chaudry.

IMHO, It is the case, Chaudhary is not a caste, rather a title, it's equivalent is Wadera Sayeen in Sindh

But Most of chaudhary's would be gujjar or arain or Jatts in my observation
 
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Nice piece. I've loved his work, although I only understand translations.

There was a thread a while back about Kabir and I was really surprised hardly any Pakistanis knew about him. He is one of my favorite poets too.
 
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Bulleh Shah’s poetry addresses most maladies that we face in this day and age.

HiNdu na naheeN musalmaan,
Baheeye tiranjan taj abhimaan.
Sunni na naheeN ham sheeya
Sulha kuhl ka maarag leeya.
Bhookhe na naheeN ham rahje,
NaNge na naheeN ham kahje.
RoNde na naheeN ham hasde
UjaRe na naheeN ham vasde.
Paapi na sudharmi na,
Paap pun ki raah na jaanaaN.
Bulhe Shah jo hari chit laage,
Hindu turak doojan tiyaage

Neither Hindu nor Muslim,
Sacrificing pride, let us sit together.
Neither Sunni nor Shia,
Let us walk the road of peace.
We are neither hungry nor replete,
Neither naked nor covered up.
Neither weeping nor laughing,
Neither ruined nor settled,
We are not sinners or pure and virtuous,
What is sin and what is virtue, this I do not know.
Says Bulhe Shah, one who attaches his self with the lord.
Gives up both hindu and muslim.
 
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Bulleh Shah’s poetry addresses most maladies that we face in this day and age.

HiNdu na naheeN musalmaan,
Baheeye tiranjan taj abhimaan.
Sunni na naheeN ham sheeya
Sulha kuhl ka maarag leeya.
Bhookhe na naheeN ham rahje,
NaNge na naheeN ham kahje.
RoNde na naheeN ham hasde
UjaRe na naheeN ham vasde.
Paapi na sudharmi na,
Paap pun ki raah na jaanaaN.
Bulhe Shah jo hari chit laage,
Hindu turak doojan tiyaage

Neither Hindu nor Muslim,
Sacrificing pride, let us sit together.
Neither Sunni nor Shia,
Let us walk the road of peace.
We are neither hungry nor replete,
Neither naked nor covered up.
Neither weeping nor laughing,
Neither ruined nor settled,
We are not sinners or pure and virtuous,
What is sin and what is virtue, this I do not know.
Says Bulhe Shah, one who attaches his self with the lord.
Gives up both hindu and muslim.

Too bad Bulleh Shah isn't around to see the baniyas of today.
 
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In Bengal we had Lalon Fakir (1774–1890), a sufi / mystic poet, whose mausoleum is in Kushtia. Lalon and his works influenced Nobel Laurette Tagore much. Like Bulle Shah, Lalon Sain is also celebrated by his followers like a saint. See the similarity between the two great sufi poets of SA:

Everyone asks, "What Jāt does Lalon belong to in this world?"
Lalon answers, "What does Jāt look like?"
I've never laid eyes upon it.
Some use Malas (Hindu rosaries),
others Tasbis (Muslim rosaries), and so people say
they belong to different Jāts.
But do you bear the sign of your Jāt
when you come (to this world) or when you leave (this world)?
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How does the Unknown bird go,
into the cage and out again,
Could I but seize it,
I would put the fetters of my heart,
around its feet.
The cage has eight rooms and nine closed doors;
From time to time fire flares out;.
Above there is a main room,
The mirror-chamber
O my heart, you are set on the affaires
of the cage;
(Yet) the cage was made by you,
made with green bamboo;
The cage may fall apart any day.
Lalon says,
The bird may work its way out
and fly off somewhere.
 
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