कोई रोये कोई गए

Some laugh while some cry. Why is the world like this? O Master, no one can understand your work. How is your mysterious world in operation, O Master?

When we lose all our possessions, we hold our heads and cry. No one knows anyone else’s pain, everyone is lost in ‘I’ and ‘mine’. Tears flow from above like leaves falling from a tree and the earth shouts in agony (as we fight over our possessions).

Along with day (O Lord), you have made the night. With the flowers, there are pimples. Where can I sit to understand and share (the meaning of) this good and bad (good and bad follow each other as day follows night)? With disappointment, I sit and cry.

Some people go on pilgrimage to find you – and even the pilgrimages are many. O Master, how can I understand your mysterious creation while I face both happiness and sorrow?