More than four fifths of Meera bai’s songs have the thread of VIRAHA woven through them. This condition as reflected in Bhakti yoga may be defined as – “ a state in which the devotee who has already undergone peak divine experiences finds himself at a loss, due to a feeling of separation from proximity to the divine. He thus experiences anguish due to discontentment and an intense longing for union.

The joy of possessing her giridhar nagar is revealed in mere tho giridhara gopala

Purab janam ki preeti hamari indicates to us that her connection with her savariyan has been made long ago, through previous births. Boldly she declares that, this connection was severed by none other than her piya. Surely she would not break this relationship – jo tum todo piya ,mai nahin todun. In her view there was none else to be attached to ! What did Krishna do to her before he left her? In the song dekhyo koi nanda ke lala she says

“ Oh heli, have you seen the flute player, son of Nanda ? He has taken off with my mind, and sealed my body with the lock of loneliness. He has filled my ears with his message and has removed the lining from my bed. He has maimed me with the arrow of separation and torn my heart. Without him my life is shattered, the eyes shed copious tears. Where is he? Fulfill me with his presence. I have abandoned food and drink, yet my affliction abandons me not. I keep calling out to the beautiful coiffured one- Mohan! Mohan! Gardens and woods Have I searched in vain for I have not found life’s dearest one. Oh heli, unite Hari to me and thus save Meera’s life .”

Tan man dhan sab arpan kinun, chadi che kul ki laj. Meera ‘s involvement with her antaryamin has made her give up all royal comforts , all womanly decorations and ornaments that sustain that the body- mind equipment of a human being. On top of it all she has cast aside her family’s and her Rajput traditions, thereby incurring shame.

The exposure to many sampradayas serves only to design her own upasana. She describes her sadhana as intense as the dhyan of the chakor bird on the moon, as skillful as the natva on the dori, (the dancer on the tightrope) as persistent and repetitious as the sant chanting ramnam and as obsessive as the murakh(fool) with thoughts of meri, meri ( mine, mine). Inspite of it all the lack of the continuous presence of her prabhu is intolerable to her. Having given me ambrosia, why give me poison she says –amrit payi kai vish kyon dijai. Which village’s tradition do you observe? Certainly you are Selfishness’s Friend – kun gavun ki reet, ap garaj ki meet.

Her agonizing condition is often compared to that of a fish without water, a moth singed by the flame and like a yellow leaf that has fallen to the ground. Pana jyun peeli bhayi, log kahe pind rog- People think that she has contracted jaundice judging by her withered pale looks. This pining continues into her middle age where she describes herself as a termite infested wood with no sap- lakdi ko dhun kha jata hai. Searching for Krishna, traveling from place to place, visiting all his holy haunts she no longer has any vital strength. She is a ripped boat and Krishna alone can fasten her, or else she would drown. Nav phati prabhu, pal bandho- she cries.

A threatening posture is taken on by Meera when she throws a challenge to bhakti. She threatens to let her hair get matted, smear her body with ashes, and wearing the mala of white bones, thus she will beg for alms from place to place, in search of the nirguna Brahman. Bina syam sakhi,mai jatadhari, seyli anjan rekh, suved varan angkanta raje, bhisha mangun des, karungi alakh alekh. Further she shaves her head and wears the ochre robes, all for his sake! Khor kiya siru kes, bhagva bhekh dharyan te karan, dudya charyon des.

She has given up her honour as a noble Rajput princess yet she considers herself as the chaste wife of Krishna. She has subjected herself to ridicule, hatred and anger yet where is her husband she asks? Mai patibarata nari, kahn te na pati jown. Where can she go in respect without him by her side?

In the songs where she identifies with the gopis, her virah shows sometimes in the form of jealousy. She figures that Krishna is busy with other gopis. During the month of Chaitra she feels despondent and says “ as my beloved has gone to a foreign land with whom shall I play Holi? Kon sang khelun holi, piya gaye pardes.

When virah intensifies , Meera herself proclaims that she has a malady or disease which no one can diagnose or cure. Only Hari the cause of this can understand- Ko virahini ko dukh jane ho. Jo ghat viraha soi lakh hai, ke koi harijan maney ho. Her unbearable condition has destabilized her sensory systems- Panch indri bas nahi mori, katin virah ki peed. None of the physicians that her family arranges for her can do any good. The physicians are foolish as they cannot diagnose her turbulent heart- i>Bhavel baid bulayiyan ri, mhari banh dikhaya. Murakhi baid maram nahin jane, karak kalej mahi. Meera begs the physician to go home for she alone knows the severity of her state.- tum ghari javo baid, mere pir bhari hai. Only the one in whose hand life and death is , he alone understands Meera’s malady- miran pida soi janai maran jivan jin hath.

From sorrow to frustration her condition turns to a madness. She no longer can take advise from well wishers. She develops an allergy as it were to sights and sounds that most love. The sight of the rain clouds, the pelting rain, the blooming of flowers, the drone of the bees, the cooing of the papiha and kokil are all abhorrent to her. She feels cruel to the papiha that utters ‘ piya, piya’ reminding her of her absent beloved. She threatens to snip its beak and rub salt on its wounds- chanch katavun papiha rey, oopar kalo re lun. Her unpredictable mind is described as an elephant in rut. Ultimately she resigns her condition where having promised he returns not, as due to fate. Bereft of knowledge, and respect with only the bag of attachment, determined never to abandon Hari, it is karma alone that remains. She has to exhaust her karma no matter how she feels

A sense of being tapped and abandoned overwhelms her. Gali tho charo band huin, mai hari se milun kaise jaun. Uncha nicha mahal piya ka, mhasun chadyo na jai. “ All four roads are blocked, she says. How shall I meet hari? The mansion of my beloved has such ups and downs, I can no longer climb.” We get the picture of a solitary woman of determination, navigating the boat of love all alone in the vast unfathomable ocean of virah. Virah samudra chadi gayo piv, neh ki nav chalaya. Chod math jajyoji maharaj, mai abala, bal nahin gusai.

An interesting twist is seen in her attitude when she calls Krishna a yogi unfit for a relationship. Her warning is that one would only incur sorrow if one were to bond with a yogi. Yogis do not follow any tradition, law or custom. When they are with you their familiarity is not to be trusted. Their walking away from you is as easy as plucking a chameli flower. Ath na dase, jat na dase, jogiya se preeti kiya dukh hoi. Hil mil bat banavat, chameli ke phula todat. To this same yogi she pleads- jogi mat ja, mat ja-yogi don’t go, don’t go! Tey bina deh udeh- indicates that she is dead to the world anyway and now she is practically dead without Him. She says “ Build my funeral pyre with sandal wood, Krishna and kindle it yourself. When my mortal frame is consumed, may you smear your body with those very same ashes”.

Is He not the saviour who rescued Draupadi and Gajendra rescuing them from calamities? Then certainly he will fulfill his role as the saviour of mankind. Indeed he will save that Meera who from childhood cared only for her Gopala, the reservoir of bhakti, from Merata, that beacon of light for all women, the dasi who lies at His feet in total surrender. Through her songs we shall all be saved! In chalan wahi des she beckons us all to join her in her final journey.

“ Let us all go to that land where we shall have our Beloved. It matters not how we get there. We may be in colorful silken clothes, or dressed in ochre robes. The parting of our hair may be lined with pearls. We may let our hair form matted locks. It matters not how we get there. Listen oh Ruler, this Shri Giridhar Nagar is Meera’s Lord.”

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