The Soaked Salt - Gratitude to the Path
जिस-जिस से पथ पर स्नेह मिला - श्री शिवमंगल सिंह सुमन
जिस-जिस से पथ पर स्नेह मिला, उस-उस राही को धन्यवाद।
जीवन अस्थिर अनजाने ही,
हो जाता पथ पर मेल कहीं,
सीमित पग-डग, लम्बी मंज़िल,
तय कर लेना कुछ खेल नहीं।
दाएँ-बाएँ सुख-दुख चलते,
सम्मुख चलता पथ का प्रमाद....
जिस-जिस से पथ पर स्नेह मिला, उस-उस राही को धन्यवाद।
साँसों पर अवलम्बित काया,
जब चलते-चलते चूर हुई,
दो स्नेह-शब्द मिल गए,
मिली नव स्फूर्ति, थकावट दूर हुई।
पथ के पहचाने छूट गए,
पर साथ-साथ चल रही याद ....
जिस-जिस से पथ पर स्नेह मिला, उस-उस राही को धन्यवाद।
जो साथ न मेरा दे पाए,
उनसे कब सूनी हुई डगर?
मैं भी न चलूँ यदि तो भी क्या,
राही मर लेकिन राह अमर।
इस पथ पर वे ही चलते हैं,
जो चलने का पा गए स्वाद ......
जिस-जिस से पथ पर स्नेह मिला, उस-उस राही को धन्यवाद।
कैसे चल पाता
यदि न मिला होता, मुझको आकुल अन्तर?
कैसे चल पाता
यदि मिलते, चिर-तृप्ति अमरता-पूर्ण प्रहर।
आभारी हूँ मैं उन सबका,
दे गए व्यथा का जो प्रसाद .......
जिस-जिस से पथ पर स्नेह मिला, उस-उस राही को धन्यवाद।
At the very outset I would like to convey my immense gratitude to my friend Girish Bhandari who walked with us on the Dandi Path. Each one of us brings something to make our lives so much more worth living and Girish did just that - by introducing me to the world of Hindi poetry. During the walk, he kept us engaged with verses from many renowned poets — not just reciting them, but opening up the meanings and the quiet philosophical currents flowing beneath the words. And just a couple of days back he sent this poem as a Thank You note in the group. I took time to read it and then I had to read it over and over again soaking in the essence. I just could not resist the temptation to connect it with my lived experience of the Dandi March. It was not just a walk but I feel deep inside it was a lived metaphor for life itself and this poem Jis Jis se Pathh par sneh mila by Shri Shiv Mangal Suman is so piercingly accurate.
At the heart of the poem lies this quiet but firm belief: Life is a Path, Not a Destination.
The poet accepts the truth that life comprises limited steps representing human finitude, a distant destination full of meaning, purpose, truth and that completing the journey is not a game to be played and won. The poem clearly showcases a rejection of shortcuts, grand promises, or instant enlightenment in life. It also highlights the fact that growth happens only in motion, not in arrival.
In life’s journey, companionship is accidental and sacred (“अनजाने ही… पथ पर मेल”) Connections are not planned; they happen unknowingly. Imagine that I got to meet friends, some after more than 40 years. What brought us together? The poem so lovingly explains this. People come into our lives briefly, unexpectedly and without contracts or guarantees. Yet the poet treats each such meeting as worthy of gratitude, not possession. And this learning life drilled into me throughout my walk.
Meaningful relationships are gifts, not entitlements. They do not have to last forever to matter deeply.
Indian and Buddhist philosophy have long reminded us of pain being an integral part of life which helps us understand the concept of life itself. Joy and sorrow are not opposites fighting each other; they are parallel companions. Neither can be excluded from the journey. Suffering walks beside us not against us (“दाएँ-बाएँ सुख-दुख चलते”) And exhaustion is not cured by rest alone, it is cured by a few kind words and simple human warmth. At every step of our journey together, we felt the anguish of blisters, the ache of a tired muscle and fatigue of a long walk but someone sharing some chikki they have carried all the way from home, an arm around your shoulder when you seem to slow down or even an inspiring poem on a quiet stretch lifted up the spirits.
Pain is a key ingredient in life’s design; it is part of its nourishment.
Many of us started the walk together, some left en-route, some more joined us later, the walk ended. But what about the Dandi Path itself. It still remains where it was. This is one of the poem’s strongest ideas - individuals may stop walking but the path continues. “राही मर लेकिन राह अमर” People may leave, but the path is eternal. The road does not depend on any one traveler. Many like us have travelled this path and many will do after we have all gone. The thought is both humbling and comforting. It dissolves ego beautifully.
You matter — but the journey of life is larger than you.
I have talked about the emptiness which seemed to occupy my mind after the walk. It gnawed at me. The mind telling me that I was doing nothing now. And the void was filled with restlessness. “आकुल अन्तर” (a restless inner core). This is where the poet says something radical: If I had been given eternal satisfaction, I could not have walked. Can I now rest contented or would that quietly turn into complacency? Contentment or complacency freezes movement while a longing and desire to do something keeps curiosity, seeking, and growth alive.
Restlessness is not a flaw, it is not a lack of something. It is actually a fuel, an invitation - to move ahead.
Calling suffering a prasād is so profoundly Indian. “व्यथा का जो प्रसाद”. Here pain is not glorified but it is given a place of respect because it deepens sensitivity, sharpens awareness, and prevents complacency. It may sound so self aggrandising but this is a truth which revealed itself during our walk. Lying down on a lumpy bed resting a sore back and pains emanating from different corners of the body told me something extremely illuminating - I was alive. I was human. I was doing something. I was grateful for it. And talking to fellow walkers this seemed to be something that echoed in their voices too. Friedrich Nietzsche had said “What does not kill me makes me stronger.” It is a crude but philosophically adjacent statement to what this poem and what Bhagavad Gita has said obliquely:
What challenges you also consecrates you.
This poem has opened my eyes to so many things human in us - the journey of our life. The poem if understood deeply, quietly proposes a way of living:
• Walk honestly.
• Accept fatigue.
• Receive people without clinging.
• Let memories walk with you, not weigh you down.
• Keep your inner restlessness alive.
• Thank even those who hurt you — for they kept you moving.
An ethic for every walker of life.
My Closing Thought
This poem doesn’t ask us to become saints or heroes. It asks us to become grateful walkers. Humble walkers.
Not those who reached somewhere extraordinary, but those who noticed who walked beside them, even for a while.
Kiya baat hai
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