The sky is a billowing mass of contorted form. Immense, restless, and majestic. Birds appear as insects against the swirling vortex of blue-grey cloud. The early evening is almost upon us, yet the influence of the sun''''s power refuses to relinquish. The warm afterglow seduces everything. Every branch, leaf, flower, and petal, is bathed in the golden lifeforce. Nothing is exempt.
Guru Ram Das sits under a large Persian Chenar tree, a favourite among scholars and saints for centuries. Behind the guru stands an attendant, wafting the scented air with a yak tail fan. Flowers, bursting with colour and nectar, are in magnificent and glorious bloom. The winged beats of jewelled butterflies and the gentle hum and drone of countless insects, are the only sounds that break the otherwise perfection of silence. The guru does not mind. He welcomes this.
As the guru meditates, a scribe kneels down and prepares to write down the thoughts and verse of the guru. The scribe waits patiently and with reverence. As the guru speaks, each word is precious and must be captured on parchment, for eternity. The words are squeezed out of the scribes'''' pen, and manifest themselves on the prepared parchment. Thus the words become verse, and the verse becomes immortal.
In his life time, Guru Ram Das did compose some six hundred and eighty-eight hymns. This forms part of ''''The Guru Granth Sahib'''', the holy book of Sikhism. He also founded Ramdaspur, this became the site of the glorious city of Amritsar.
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