By the sea at Jagan Nath Puri there was a famous temple, and every evening the temple did something beautiful.
It was called aarti. It is a way of saying thank you.
They would bring out a round golden tray with jewels set into it. On the tray stood a little clay lamp with several wicks burning. At one side of it incense smoked. At another side lay sweet sandalwood powder in a dish of silver. A piece of camphor burned with a small white flame.
Then the drums began, and the cymbals, and the strings, and everybody stood up, and the tray was lifted and moved in slow circles in front of the images in the temple, round and round, while the music went on.
Guru Nanak Dev Ji had been in that city for some time, and he had never once come to see it.
So one day the king sent to invite him.
Is it the aarti at Jagan Nath, said Guru Ji. Every day the Lord is being worshipped and we are not there. Yes. Tell the king we will certainly come today.
And that evening he came, and they seated him with great honour, and the preparations began.
The lamps were lit. The incense was lit. The drums started up.
And Guru Nanak Dev Ji got up quietly, and slipped back through the crowd, and went outside, where there was no roof at all, and sat down.
He looked up.
And he stayed there, looking up, while behind him the music went on and the tray went round and round. Now and then a tear came down his face. Nobody inside noticed he had gone.
When it was over, the king looked about him. Where is our guest.
They found him sitting outside under the open sky.
The king came out, half puzzled and half annoyed, with the temple people behind him. And they all stopped a few steps away, because there was something in his face they had not seen before.
After a while Guru Ji said, softly, O Lord, you are great. And he looked round at the king.
You promised to come to the worship, said the king. And you crept out of it.
Come, said Guru Ji. I have been worshipping the Maker. It is you who did not join in.
The king stared. We were all in there worshipping, he said. Ask them.
Yes, said everybody. All of us.
You did not see me, said Guru Ji, because you were looking at something made of stone.
Then let us hear it, said the king. This worship of yours. What is it.
So Bhai Mardana Ji lifted the rabab, and Guru Ji sang.
And when the song was over, he told the king what he had been looking at.
The Lord is everywhere, he said. He is not hiding in a corner of a building. You cannot do this with one small tray and one small lamp.
Look up. The whole sky is the tray.
The sun and the moon are the lamps burning on it, and all the stars are the jewels set into it.
The forests of sandalwood are the incense, and their scent is going up on their own.
The wind is the fan, waving all night long.
Every flower in every garden is laid there as the offering.
And listen, he said. Underneath everything, always, there is music playing.
The king sat down on the ground.
He had a question, and he asked it honestly. Has the Maker got eyes, then, to see all this. Has He a nose to smell it. Has He feet, to come.
He has no eyes as we have eyes, said Guru Ji, and yet nothing is hidden from Him. He has no feet as we have feet, and yet He is quicker than anything that moves. He gives the spark of life to everything alive. Nobody can hold Him in their understanding, and every scrap of understanding anybody has ever had came from Him.
Then how can we ever know Him, said the king.
And Guru Ji answered: He is the great Soul, and His spark is in you. You cannot see that spark. You can feel it.
Where, said the king. Where do I go.
Wherever there is longing, said Guru Ji, and love.
Goodnight. Look out of the window before you sleep. The tray is still going round.