“Jaljit Singh Khalsa, of Beaverton, sets the beat during the procession during annual Sikh celebration honoring Guru Arjan Dev Ji at it leaves the Dasmesh Darbar Sikh Temple, in South Salem [Oregon], on Sunday, June 16, 2013.” (Photo: Timothy J. Gonzalez | Statesman Journal)

The Dasmesh Darbar Sikh Temple organizes the event yearly to commemorate the martyrdom of Guru Arjan Dev Ji. And while the Salem Sikh community is small — a few hundred families — the event is among the largest in the Pacific Northwest, attendees said. Sikhs from across the West Coast participate, ensuring that the annual celebration does not go unnoticed.

Read more and see additional photos and video at The Statesman Journal.

Typical tray of food served during langar (Sikh community kitchen). (Source: PunjabiPortal)

In 2011, an article in TIME magazine discussed a study that correlated a person’s risk of obesity with their attendance of religious services, finding that “…people who went to church or church activities at least once a week were more than twice as likely as people with no religious involvement to become obese.”

While the results of the study was not specific to Sikhs or Sikh Americans, I considered the Sikh context — particularly as it relates to the Sikh practice of langar, the community kitchen attached to every Gurdwara (Sikh house of worship) in which everyone participates in an expression of humility and equality. However, as langar is regularly and enthusiastically prepared today:

Often, the food that is prepared is so heavy – having been made using heavy cream, butter and oil – that an afternoon nap is part of the worship process. In my family, we’ve gone so far as to diagnose the condition as “PLS” – post-langar syndrome.

A recent study out of the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA) has now shed more light on the obesity epidemic specifically among Sikh Americans, by exploring the connection between “religiosity” and obesity among immigrant Sikh, Hindu and Muslim populations in California:

…the researchers found that those Indians who were highly religious were more likely (1.53 greater odds) to be overweight or obese than those who were less religious. This relationship — or increased odds — persisted for Hindus and Sikhs but not Muslims.

The study, based on the results of a 2004 telephone survey of 3,200 individuals in California, clearly demonstrates the negative impact of the way in which we are engaging in our religious traditions. The researchers of the study, while surprised by the results, theorized about the reasons behind the different obesity rates between the Muslim versus the Hindu and Sikh populations:

First, there were fewer Muslims in the dataset, so there may have been too few to see an impact. Second, there are differences in religious practices: Hindus and Sikhs may adhere to a vegetarian diet but drink alcohol heavily or eat food high in saturated fat or refined sugar at frequent religious and social gatherings, while Muslims abstain from alcohol and practice 30 days of daytime fasting during Ramadan, which may decrease their risk for weight gain.

The results of the study reinforces what we commonly recognize about our practices around langar, especially in the west: the trend towards offering rich, fatty, and otherwise unhealthy food is negatively affecting the health of our population, while offering less in the way of expressing the intent of langar. One does not need to look far, as typically, those who are residents of Gurdwaras in the west (musicians or those who are tasked with performing services), become obese themselves. Certainly, this harmful result is antithetical to the motivation behind langar.

However, what this study also highlights is the impact that Gurdwara- and Sikh-religious practices have on our physical health as it pertains to diet and nutrition. Instead of the negative impact on our health, how our religious practices around food influence our behavior can be leveraged more positively to bring awareness about health and nutrition.

The UCLA study is published in the journal Preventative Medicine, which can be accessed online (for a fee) here. UCLA also issued a press release summarizing the findings from the study, which is available here.

“Expansive God.” (Source: Art for God’s Sake)

On Patheos, Deborah W. Dykes questions the use of masculine pronouns when referring to God, and the implications this has for young girls:

Questioning the use of male pronouns to refer to God is unimaginable for some people. Male language about God so permeates our thinking and our conversation we don’t even hear or recognize it.

Obviously, none of us sets out to harm our children, anyone’s children. But, harm them we do.

Today, most of us do not intend to preserve a religion that excludes women and girls. In fact, many of us are horrified at such an idea. But when we perpetuate images and language that identify God with “male,” we are in fact, as Joan Chittister, OSB, tells us, excluding 50 percent of the human population.

Sikhs believe that God is a nameless, formless and genderless entity. Yet, we often also speak of God in the masculine form as well, not realizing how this affects girls and women.

Read more at Patheos.

“How Do You Tie A Patka?” brochure from Little Sikhs and the Sikh Coalition. (Source: Sikh Coalition)

Little Sikhs and the Sikh Coalition have released a new brochure with instructions on how to tie a patka, a typical turban for young Sikh boys. This would have been helpful for my kindergarten teacher, who, when my patka once came off while playing in class, had no idea how to retie it on my head.

My mother later gave a modified head covering to my teacher in case such an instance happened to me again, but I would imagine that such a brochure as above would have been much more useful to both my teacher and me.

Also, see the video “How to tie a patka” from Saffron Press and artist Keerat Kaur.

Demonstrators protest against violence towards women. (Source: Washington Post)

By coincidence, an article in The Washington Post by Satpal Singh of the World Sikh Council offers a corollary to the recent post about contextualizing God using male-oriented pronouns. Satpal Singh discusses the issue of the status of women and the role that faith must play in promoting gender quality:

As a first step, we must stop accusing God of misogyny and of creating women as inferior to men. We must stress in our religious services that God does not look kindly upon the abuse of his daughters. In most faiths, women are as much children of God as men. We all agree that God is compassionate and loves all of its children, whether men or women. The same Divine light dwells in women as in men.

It is interesting that Satpal Singh uses “his” and “its” when referring to God. Nonetheless, his point is very well taken. Read more at The Washington Post.

“We are all Sikhs” t-shirt. (Source: Rootsgear Clothing)

On The Jewish Journal, Rabbi Jeffrey K. Salkin considers his Sikh American neighbors a year after the Oak Creek, Wisconsin mass shooting:

Maybe they should consider modifying the turban requirement, and just make it optional? How American of me to think that. Sikh men simply know that they have to be at the airport that much earlier. That’s the price they choose to pay for walking a religious road with one foot, and keeping the other foot grounded in Western society.

Thank you, my Sikh friends, for teaching me the lesson of religious integrity.

Read more at The Jewish Journal.

A 1,000-year-old coin from Pakistan in the collection of the father of Ravleen Kaur. (Source: Slant of Light)

On Slant of Light, Ravleen Kaur, a college student in Oregon, reflects about her father’s passion for collecting coins, particularly those struck during the era of Sikh rule in Punjab, India, and other historic relics:

“You know, you know, legend goes,” Papa says, his cheekbones rising and nostrils flaring as they do when he shares oddball knowledge and fun facts, “that when the Sikhs took power in Punjab, they sometimes stamped their seal over old coins instead of minting new ones.” He peers closely through his thin spectacles at the clean, insect-sized stamp smack-dab in the middle of the design.

“That’s an old coin,” I say.

The article is a well-written and intriguing read, bringing to mind the relics of history that lay guarded in private collections, and the wonder stirred by these rare antiquities. Such coins have an intrinsic value more than their stated currency.

Read more here.

“What does a Kaur look like?” (Source: A Kaur’s Thoughts.)

On A Kaur’s Thoughts, blogger Lakhpreet Kaur considers the physical identity that defines or describes the Sikh woman, asking: what does a Kaur look like?

…since the Kaur’s physical identity is in constant flux and not universally consistent, it is difficult to say Kaurs are visually different from non-Kaurs. The social category of “Kaur,” is not as solidified as “Singh,” because it is impossible to define what  Kaur physically looks like. What is she not? How is a Kaur visually different from non-Kaurs? Her 5Ks? But those are very subtle and not as visually impactful as her male counterparts.  Her 5Ks and her long hair? Her chuni? Her dastar? Her braid?

While the prototypical physical identity of the Sikh man is comparatively well-defined (which is often taken for granted to include the turban and beard, but this is not always the case, either), Lakhpreet Kaur contrasts that of Sikh men with the lack of clarity around what physically characterizes a Sikh woman.

Read more of this thought-provoking piece at A Kaur’s Thoughts.

Depiction of the execution of Bhai Mani Singh in 1737.

There has been significant conversation from and within the Sikh community in regard to the recent hate attack on Dr. Prabhjot Singh a few weeks ago, of the response, and about what is needed to prevent future attacks and discrimination.

Citing the story of Bhai Mani Singh (who was brutally executed in 1737), Simran Jeet Singh discusses the concept of victimhood (or lack therof) in the Sikh faith to provide context around the reaction by many Sikhs to the attack on Dr. Singh (including that of his own):

Even today Sikhs do not grieve Bhai Mani Singh as a victim of oppression. Sikhs celebrate his service and contribution and remember the price he paid in the Ardās, a prayer that includes the words “band band katāe (dismembered joint-by-joint).” The story of Bhai Mani Singh symbolizes the Sikh commitment to battle oppression and to celebrate those who have made sacrifices to stand against injustice. Sikhs do not remember him as a helpless victim but as a heroic activist.

The history we celebrate today demonstrates the ideals we must continue to carry tomorrow. Read more, particularly in how these ideals relate to the attack on Dr. Singh, in Religion Dispatches.

2012 Nagar Kirtan festivities at the Sikh Temple Yuba City in Yuba City, California. (Photo: Karaminder Ghuman)

The largest of its kind in America, the 34th annual Yuba City Nagar Kirtan (Sikh religious procession) is taking place this weekend, centered at the Sikh Temple Yuba City in Yuba City, California. The festivities begin on Friday, November 1, and culminates in the religious procession on Sunday, November 3:

Yuba City Annual Sikh Inauguration Festival Events Schedule:

Friday:
8 pm Kirtan Darbar followed by fireworks.

Saturday:
9am Raising of Nishan Sahib Sikh flag followed by kirtan.
2 pm Open house, tour of gurdwara grounds.
6pm – Midnight Rainsabaee kirtan.

Sunday:
11 am Gur Gadee Divas Nagar Kirtan/Annual Sikh Parade. Floats and devotees led by Guru Granth Sahib parade along a 4 1/2 mile loop through the the streets of Yuba City.

It is estimated that 75,000 people attended last year’s event, which is held annually to commemorate the installation of the Guru Granth Sahib — the Sikh scriptures — as the Sikhs’ living Guru by Guru Gobind Singh in 1708, the position it still occupies till this day.

See the full schedule of events at the Sikh Temple Yuba City website, or on the Yuba City Nagar Kirtan Facebook page.

“Guru Gobind Singh (with bird) encounters Guru Nanak Dev. An 18th century painting of an imaginary meeting.” (Source: Wikipedia)

Last week, the Sikh community around the world celebrated the birth anniversary of Guru Gobind Singh, the tenth Sikh Guru (and last in human form) who was born on January 5, 1666. The specific date of the anniversary has been clouded with (almost ridiculous) confusion as various elements within the community debate the use of various Sikh calendar constructs. According to the Nanakshahi calendar, the anniversary of Guru Gobind Singh’s birth was on January 5.

The actual date on which we celebrate Guru Gobind Singh’s birth — the ninth successor to the Sikh faith’s founding Guru, Guru Nanak –  is somewhat trivial. It is the celebration and commemoration of his legacy that retains the most significance. In that vein, a friend sent to me excerpts from the book The Spirit of the Sikh by noted Sikh writer and philosopher Professor Puran Singh (1888-1931). The passages struck me in a most profound way in connecting Guru Gobind Singh to Guru Nanak (who was born almost two centuries prior) in describing the realization of the first Guru’s vision. The excerpts follow below.

As usual, the world is too inert, too late, to welcome its prophets who bring an altogether new message. So it has been with the Sikh Gurus. The Hindus just condescended with a superior air to say that the Sikhs are of them- ‘born out of them’.

Culturally and academically and even racially this was not wrong, but inspirationally, it was an attempt to thwart all the potentialities of the Guru’s universal message.

After Buddha, it was Guru Nanak who for the first time championed the cause of the masses in caste-ridden India. The rich aristocracy and the degraded priests of Hindus and Muslims did not listen to the Guru, but the oppressed people followed him with joy. He made a whole people throb with love and life. For more than a century and half his message was secretly flaming in the bosom of the people when the genius of Guru Gobind Singh gave them the eternal shape of the Disciples, the Khalsa.

Guru Gobind Singh is the Guru of the modern times.

Assuredly, the slaves of India have not understood him so far and are not capable of understanding his genius. The shadow of his large personality falls far away above the head of centuries, and the so-called best intellectuals of India, when they spread out their mind to understand the Guru, get bruised by mere thorns and give him up as something not as spiritual as Guru Nanak. If they cannot see Guru Gobind Singh as the highest, brightest culmination of Guru Nanak, assuredly they do not understand that King of revolution of religious thought, the great Guru Nanak.

The world of thought has yet to understand the Ten Gurus in the splendour of their thought which has been misunderstood due to the Brahmanical language they had to employ to express themselves and to the Brahmanical environment which always has been inimical to the true progress of man.

Guru Granth of the Sikhs is the most authentic account of the Guru’s soul. It is a pity that some Sikh enthusiasts and half-baked scholars, perverted by the thought of the age, have tampered with the meanings they themselves wish to give it. But the authentic word of Guru Granth can never be lost to the world. And as the Bible is translated into different languages, so Guru Granth will have to be put by poets of different nations into their own language direct from their own souls. Life alone can translate life.

The Guru Granth is the history of the Sikh soul, and it’s translation is to come through the great figure of the social reconstruction of human society as the Khalsa, where shall reign love, and not hatred. It is society founded on the highest verity of love of man, inspired by the inspiration of God-like men who symbolize truth as personalities of love, grace and mercy, such personalities are images of the personalities in the unseen. Giving ourselves in infinite self-sacrifice in the name of God, washing away the selfishness of man in the supreme love of the Guru, is the simple, but extremely difficult path of discipleship. Without the Word of the Guru, and the ideal, the Khalsa, which stands for the sovereign society, there is no key to the heart of Guru Nanak and his anthems for the liberation of man. The destruction by the Guru of the Brahmanical citadels of superstition (as in Guru Nanak’s Asa- Ki-Var or in the great Kabits and Sawayyas of the Tenth Master, Guru Gobind Singh, or in the Vars of Bhai Gurdas, the great exponent of Sikh ideals), is symbolic of the destruction of all lies on which human society might be wrongly founded and misguided. Guru Nanak is universal, but he is mostly the Prophet of the future. Freedom of the human mind and soul is the Guru’s passion.

The Guru did not eschew politics-in fact he made the liberation of the people the cause of the assertion of his heroism; but surely, if the Sikh lives on the surface only, like the Englishman, for mere politics, votes and such inanities, one straying from the Guru’s path forthwith becomes a traitor to his cause. All freedom is but a spiritual tradition of the life of the Khalsa: if the Khalsa spirit is dead, all freedom fails. The Khalsa is the son of the Guru who brings everywhere his Heaven and its delectable freedoms.

The following words were addressed by Guru Gobind Singh to the Sikhs at Nander on the day of his departure from this world; “I have entrusted you to the Immortal God. Ever remain under His protection, and trust none besides. Wherever there are five Sikhs assembled who abide by the Guru’s teachings, know, that I am in the midst of them. He who serveth them shall obtain the reward thereof-the fulfillment of all his heart’s desires”.

“Read the history of your Gurus from the time of Guru Nanak. Henceforth the Guru shall be the Khalsa and the Khalsa the Guru. I have infused my mental and bodily spirit into the Granth Sahib and the Khalsa..

Then uttering ‘Wah Guruji Ka Khalsa, Wah Guruji Ki Fateh” he circumambulated the sacred volume and said, “O Beloved Khalsa, let him who desireth to behold me, behold the Granth Sahib.

Obey the Granth Sahib. It is the visible body of the Guru, and let him who desireth to meet me diligently search its hymns. And lastly keep my kitchen ever open and receive offerings for its maintenance”.

2. The Sikh People

The Sikh people, unlike other people of India, are a race of straight forward men of action, whose simple minds, informed of the Eternal by the Guru, shrinks from the idle speculation of the Brahminical mind, and also shrinks from the too theological law of the Muslim, and lives the simple, austere life of incessant labour that characterises the tiller of soil everywhere. They have an inventive genius and love the practical persuits of life – agriculture, tool-making and engineering. They are, as a people, fond of colonisation. Given opportunities and modern education, this nation has potentialities of progress which no other set of people in India possesses in so remarkable a degree.

Four hundred years ago, the inhabitants of the Punjab were all slaves. The invaders that came by the Khyber pass destroyed by the sword all Indian hopes of ever becoming a self- governing nation. What could the invaders have achieved if the will to die for freedom were there in the soul of India?

Out of the downtrodden, oppressed, lifeless slaves of the Punjab, Guru Gobind Singh moulded a nation which has in it the potentialities of a progressive nation of men. In the whole of India, the Sikh nation is the brightest spot still which has an inexhaustible will to die for the love of its ideals. When they are called upon, the Sikhs seek death as moths seek light. Guru Gobind Singh cut the moorings of this nation from its racial past and a nation wholly modern in spirit and mind sprang up out of the Guru’s mind, with a highly inspiring and most deeply reactive tradition and history of it own.

The Sikh was made to be a feast-giver on the roadside, to spend as the day ended, all he earned daily: and it is his self degeneration if he accumulates and thinks of the morrow.

The thought of the morrow for a Sikh is irreligious. To a true Sikh, death is better than security earned with dishonesty. His giving away of his labour and love is like the lamp distributing light, like the rose distributing its fragrance. A Sikh’s spontaneous and natural function of life is such; otherwise he is not a true Sikh.

The Culture created by the Guru is in one word, the all-mind divine culture. The Sikh, like the Guru, like sunlight and air and water belongs to all: he is culture-embodied, love- incarnate, sweet fragrance of humanity that kindles dead souls. Men are very rare and the Sikh still more so.

If you wish to know the Sikh, love him. There is a gleam under the stack of hay, such as Moses beheld at Sinai. The Sikh body politic is a heap of immense matter in which still scintillates the spirit. The hair of the Sikh distinguishes him and his unique love. In Brahmanical India, the spirit itself would have died without those who have worn this rather unkempt exterior. And those of Brahmanical India who might desire life, and having got the life spark to maintain it, have similarly to isolate themselves.

Religious fanaticism was that the Guru never allowed to enter his court. Religious superstition was eradicated from the very blood of the Sikh. The Guru cleaned with his sword the darkness that clung and clings still to the endless philosophical hair splitting of the Hindu and the Jain. The liberation of the human mind was the first and foremost thought of the Guru. He liberated man from the slavery of the Devas, the Vedas, and put him to work.

If the Sikh, as he was born, had ever been afforded opportunities of spiritual isolation from the rest of world, to develop his powers of self-realisation, and his instincts of art and agriculture and colonisation, his would have been by now, one of the best societies of divinely inspired labourers, of saints living by the sweat of their brow.

But Brahminism was there to engulf it from within.

His political temper, the result of his complete mental liberation and his passionate love of liberty pitched him against the Moghuls from the time of its birth. Out of the jaws of death, if the Khasla has still come out, there is much hope for it yet. All is not yet lost.

3. The Khalsa Ideal – State and Democracy

The Khalsa is the ideal future international state of man: it is an absolute monarchy of the kingdom of heaven for each and every man, the absolute democracy, distribution of bread and raiment of the kingdom of labour on this earth – all in one. It is democracy of feeling all on this physical plane of life, where most misery is due to man’s callousness to man. It is brotherhood of the souls where intensity of feeling burns out all differences.

In the realms of the soul, each is to have his own measure of the Guru’s joy and sorrow and love and feeling and spiritual delight, according to his individual capacity. This will constitute the measure of the real aristocracy of each one’s genius; but bread and raiment, the barest necessities of the physical body shall, in this kingdom of love for the Guru, never be denied to any one. If the Guru’s ideal state, or even an approach to it, is ever made by man, no one will thenceforward die of hunger or go naked.

Death cannot be prevented, innate differences cannot be destroyed; but physical privation will be prevented here on this earth by man himself. Let mountains be high, flowers small and grass low, but all shall be clothed with the beauty of God and fed with His abundance. The true vindication of the Khalsa commonwealth and its ideals as announced by Guru Gobind Singh, have yet to appear in terms of the practice of those ideals by those having faith in the Guru. The modern world is, however, busy evolving its version of the Guru’s Khalsa state out of social chaos. This much be said at once, that the Khalsa is more than a mere republic of votes of little men who must be influenced to give votes. It is more than the Soviet, which aims at the change of political environment and law, to bring the Heaven of equal distribution on earth because without the transmutation of the animal substance of man, of selfishness into sympathy, there can be no true socialism.

The Guru Khalsa state is based on the essential goodness of humanity, which longs to share the mystery and secret of the Creator, and longs to love the Beautiful one living in His creation. The Guru thus admits man to an inner kingdom of the soul, where each and every person receives such abundance of pleasure and the beauty of His Love, that selfishness dies of itself.

Inspiration to the higher life drives out the lower. Each one, according to his worth and capacity to contain, has enough of the inner rapture of the beauty of God in him, so that he lives quite happy and contented without interfering in anyone’s affairs or robbing any of his rightful freedom to increase his own pleasure.

This endless self-sacrifice in utter gladness of a new realization is the sign and symptom of the true ‘Nam’ culture of the Guru. No one can be man of truly human society, who has not obtained this divine spark which puts the self at rest, which thereby imbibes a nobility from God to leave everything along and gaze at Him with unending rapture and renunciation. Man need to be truly and inwardly a divine aristocrat to be truly democratic in this world..

In the constitution of the Khalsa commonwealth, the greatest act of genius of Guru Gobind Singh was when he transferred the divine sovereignty vested in him to the God-inspired people, the Khalsa. When speaking of the people, the Guru speaks of the people whose personality is transmuted into the divine personality of selfless being. As the chemist talks of pure elements just as they occur in nature, the Guru refers to the ‘Pure’ of the Cosmic Spirit and not as they are found with their blind animal instincts. In this one act lies our history and the future history of human progress. At Chamkaur when all was lost, he made His Five Disciples representative of the Guru, and gave them his insignia of Guruship and saluted them. The constitution of the Khalsa was thus built on the heartshrines of humanity inspired with love of God, on the God-consciousness of Disciples, and not on law- books. Guru Gobind Singh would have died fighting on the battlefield even, as a while before, his two young sons had obtained the glory of martyrdom. But these ‘Five Enthroned’ asked him to go from the scene, and to do for the Khalsa, what only he, Guru Gobind Singh, could do. So, he went, herein the Guru’s benign submission to the will of the Khalsa was complete and unconditional. To obey, to continue to live instead of fighting and dying, even in that great personal affliction of having seen his sons and his dear disciple soldiers dying before him, overwhelmed by odds, yet to go and live for them, as bidden by them, is the supreme self-sacrifice of God for man, out of whose red flames of blood is born this Khalsa with the mysterious destiny.

In the Khalsa constitution, the people inspired by the natural goodness of humanity, by the spontaneous Divinity of God, by the Guru’s mystic presence in all beings, are made supreme.

They are the embodiment of Law and Justice fulfilled for ever in the love of Man. This state has but the Guru as Personal God. In this state, the Khalsa, the law of man’s natural goodness is the only law.

Guru Gobind Singh was neither a Caesar nor an Aurangzeb. He was the true king of the people and a comrade of the people, in the truest representative spirit. Guru Gobind Singh founded the true democracy of the people in which there were no dead votes or votes won by mental persuasion or interested coercion.

Democracy was a feeling in the bosom of the Khalsa and it gave an organic cohesion to the people who founded both society and state on the law of love, on Justice and Truth, not an impersonal system of the will of the blinded mob-representation by sympathy and not by dead votes. The Khalsa-State is an Ideal; Sikhs may die, it does not. It is immortal.

See the full set of excerpts on esikhs.com.

The Sikh prayer called Ardaas (link) is an address before the All-Pervasive Immortal that is offered regularly by Sikhs in congregation. It concludes every service and is often offered ahead of an undertaking of a task by Sikhs to seek the Divine’s blessings and protection.  The prayer is a defined set of verses that recounts Sikh history: the Gurus, those who sacrificed themselves, and custom verse at the end by the congregation specific to the context of the occasion. The Ardaas places what we do in the context of our Guru’s teachings and in the legacy of those who came before us. What we do today is a continuation of their legacy.

One line of Ardaas has stood out in my mind in recent weeks:

ਪੰਜਾਂ ਪਿਆਰਿਆਂ, ਚੌਹਾਂ ਸਾਹਿਬਜ਼ਾਦਿਆਂ, ਚਾਲ੍ਹੀਆਂ ਮੁਕਤਿਆਂ, ਹਠੀਆਂ ਜਪੀਆਂ, ਤਪੀਆਂ, ਜਿਹਨਾਂ ਨਾਮ ਜਪਿਆ, ਵੰਡ ਛਕਿਆ, ਦੇਗ ਚਲਾਈ, ਤੇਗ ਵਾਹੀ, ਦੇਖ ਕੇ ਅਣਡਿੱਠ ਕੀਤਾ, ਤਿਨ੍ਹਾਂ ਪਿਆਰਿਆਂ, ਸਚਿਆਰਿਆਂ ਦੀ ਕਮਾਈ ਦਾ ਧਿਆਨ ਧਰ ਕੇ, ਖਾਲਸਾ ਜੀ । ਬੋਲੋ ਜੀ ਵਾਹਿਗੁਰੂ॥

Panja Pyaaraae, Chauhaa Sahibzadiyae, Chaliya Mukhtyae, Huthiyae, Jupiyae, Tupiyae, Jina Nam Jupiyae, Vand Shakiyae, Deg Chalaaee, Teg Vaahee, Dekh Ke Andhith Keetaa, Tinhaa Pyariyaae, Sachiaariyaa Dee Kamaaee, Da Dhiyaan Dhar Ke Bolo Ji Waheguru ||

Think of the deeds of the Five Beloved Ones, of the four sons (of Guru Gobind Singh); of the Forty Martyrs; of the brave Sikhs of indomitable determination; of the devotees steeped in the colour of the Name; of those who were absorbed in the Name; of those who remembered the Name and shared their food in companionship; of those who started free kitchens; of those who wielded their swords (for preserving truth); of those who overlooked others shortcomings; All the aforesaid were pure and truly devoted ones; Utter Waheguru (Wondrous God)!

The verse commemorates the four sons of the tenth Guru, Guru Gobind Singh (his sons are collectively known as the Sahibzade). The boys were martyred in 1705 during the conflicts with the Mughal Emperor of India and the Hindu hill rajas. The two elder sons died in battle against the Mughals. In escaping the fighting, the two younger sons —  Sahibzada Zorawar Singh (age 9) and Sahibzada Fateh Singh (age 7) — and their grandmother, Mata Gujari, were betrayed by their attendant and brought to the Mughal governor, Wazir Khan.

The imprisoned younger sons of Guru Gobind Singh refused overtures by the Mughal governor to convert to Islam. 

Wazir Khan, who sought to bring an end to Guru Gobind Singh and the Sikhs, imprisoned the Guru’s mother and two sons at the top of an open tower with few provisions in the middle of winter. To deliver a blow to the Guru, Wazir Khan attempted to cause the boys to renounce the Sikh faith and convert to Islam. Over several days, he attempted the lure the boys by offering comforts and riches as an escape from their torturous imprisonment, but the two boys adamantly refused. Each evening, they returned to the comforts of their grandmother’s lap in the tower. Finally, when these tactics didn’t work, the Governor threatened the children with death, but they still refused to renounce their faith.

Despite attempts by local Muslims to intercede, Wazir Khan ordered the boys’ execution. The means of execution — to be bricked alive — was designed to terrorize the children once more into renouncing their faith. As the walls were built up around them, they remained steadfast in their determination. Ultimately, the boys were sealed alive in the bricked enclosure and breathed their last. On hearing this news, Mata Gujari also passed away in the cold tower.

A Gurdwara, Fatehgarh Sahib, now stands at the spot of this travesty in Sirhind, Punjab. The spots where the boys were martyred, the tower where the three were imprisoned, and where their bodies were ultimately cremated are all commemorated, and their story, as evidenced by Ardaas, inspires Sikhs of all ages until this day.

I recount this story because the images of imprisoned migrant children sleeping on floors, locked in cages, being separated by government officials from their parents and the sounds of their cries in detention serve as a stark reminder of events in our own history. The abuse of children as a means to a political end by oppressive governments is not acceptable nor new, but Sikhs have an intimate connection with this in our history. I find it difficult as a human being and as a Sikh to stand by and watch this travesty continue. If we Sikhs truly remember our history as we invoke in Ardaas, we must also take a stand.

As in last line of Ardaas:

ਨਾਨਕ ਨਾਮ ਚੜ੍ਹਦੀ ਕਲਾ
ਤੇਰੇ ਭਾਣੇ ਸਰਬੱਤ ਦਾ ਭਲਾ॥

Nanak Naam Chardi Kala
Tere Bhaaney Sarbat Daa Bhalaa ||

Nanak, in Naam may we remain in high spirits
By Your Will, may the entire world prosper.

This month, Sikhs celebrated the appointment of Guru Hargobind as the sixth Guru of the Sikhs in 1606, following the execution of the preceding Guru, Guru Arjun, by the Mughal emperor Jehangir for refusing to convert to Islam. Born to a prophecy that he would crush tyranny, Guru Hargobind represented a metamorphosis for the Sikh people — manifesting more than just spiritual practice but worldly practice as well. The commemoration of his ascension as Guru is a timely coincidence, for many of Guru Hargobind’s legacies are very relevant to our current times in the United States.

In November of each year, Sikhs around the world celebrate Bandi Chorrh Diwas (“Day of Release of Prisoners”), commemorating the release of Guru Hargobind from imprisonment by the Mughal emperor at the fort in Gwalior in India. His father already executed by the emperor, the Guru was imprisoned for several years due to growing concerns of the Guru’s popularity and of his declaration of temporal sovereignty of the Sikh people (indeed, the Sikhs referred to Guru Hargobind as Saccha Patshah — their “true king”).

When Jehangir was finally compelled to release him, the Guru only accepted on the condition that 52 imprisoned kings also be freed. Jehangir agreed, only allowing as many princes who could hold on to the Guru’s cloak to be released. Legend recounts that Guru Hargobind had a cloak with 52 trailing strands made, and with each prisoner taking a strand, the Guru walked out of the prison with all of the kings. Because of this act, Guru Hargobind, among several legacies, became known among Sikhs as the great liberator.

I have written about Bandi Chorrh Diwas several times throughout the years, and always around the date that it is commemorated in November. The event is celebrated at the same time that Hindus celebrate Diwali (the festival of lights; the Sikh commemoration of Bandi Chorrh Diwas is unique among Sikh celebrations in that it takes much in the same form as Diwali, but this came to be is not what I seek to address in this post). However, here at the end of June, I find myself considering Bandi Chorrh Diwas and its meaning for American Sikhs today due to recent events in this country.

This reflection is brought about by the detaining and imprisonment of innocent migrant children, women and men by the United States government, and the heinous separation of thousands of these children from their parents. The government has openly stated that this is to act as a deterrent to those who are arriving at the US border, and appears to be a negotiating ploy to further political agendas. As I wrote about last week, Sikhs have seen such a travesty occur in our history — one we have invoked for hundreds of years daily to this very day — to break the spirit of the Gurus and their followers, and as such, there is a personal investment in this cause. We are seeing our history repeat before us.

The history of Bandi Chorrh Diwas resonates with this imprisonment of thousands upon thousands of people (with a not insignificant number whom are actually migrant Sikhs) by the US government over, in effect, paperwork issues. We are observing a severe lack of compassion and empathy for those fleeing violence and persecution and instead we are seeing condemning and vitriolic rhetoric used for people of colour. These actions by this US government seems more political and a means to consolidate power, much — in certain respects — like the Mughal government in the 1600s.

Centuries later, one wonders where Guru Hargobind’s legacy as a liberator and as a revolutionary against tyrants sits in the present day: are those who count themselves among Guru Hargobind’s followers content to relegate his history to a one-day nominal acknowledgement (and as a reason to justify partaking in Diwali celebrations), or are we, as a “spirit-born people” (a phrase popularized by the Sikh author Professor Puran Singh), carrying forward the revolutionary spirit of our Guru?

If the latter, we should not quietly sit on the sidelines while innocent people are being subjected to oppressive policies and tactics: imprisonment, separation and loss of their children without any accountability or moral responsibility around the sanctity of family, and the demonizing of those who seek help and freedom. How we can address these policies is another question, but there are no shortages of ways to begin to help today — with our pocketbooks to supporting nonprofits, with our voices, and with our votes.

On Guru Hargobind’s seating as Guru of the Sikhs, he donned two swords, one representing miri (spiritual power) and one representing piri (temporal power), furthering the mission of the preceding five Gurus. Often, the two swords in the Sikh’s Nishan Sahib — the Sikh standard that flies outside every Gurdwara — is associated with these. Dr. Tarlochan Singh, in his essay “Miri and Piri: Religion and Politics in Sikhism with Special Reference to the Sikh Struggle,” writes:

The spirit of Miri and Piri (Bhakti and Shakti), the celestial and the worldly the spiritual and the secular, was evident in the lives and teachings of the previous Gurus. Though they did not launch a violent conflict, Miri-Piri manifested itself in the form of fearlessness and non-conformity against oppression and cruelty.

Today, may we Sikhs in the United States look upon the legacy of Guru Hargobind not as a keepsake, but as empowerment to aid innocent people who are being detained, imprisoned and subjected to oppressive and terrorizing policies in this country.

Seva, or selfless service, has always been a core Sikh practice, but while for the benefit of all, it has largely remained within the confines of the Sikh community until recently. In this United States, extending seva to beyond our community spaces has become more commonplace — to provide service to those less fortunate to those outside of our community, and during our COVID-19 crisis this has become increasingly so. Langar, the practice of seva in the form of a community kitchen, has also sometimes become a means of engagement, whereby langar is provided to facilitate relationships and advocacy with politicians, communities and large groups. Stories in media, formal and social, are increasingly about Sikhs providing food to those in need across this country and around the world — whether based on individual efforts or more large scale efforts driven by Gurdwaras.

For Sikhs, the act of seva mandates the abdication of any attachment, pride or ego in the act. Instead, it is to be ascribed to and practiced through the connection with the Divine. Yet, when langar and seva is often discussed in media, it is often described as “giving back” to the community.

While a legitimate conversation can be had around how “selfless” langar has become (particularly when langar is provided in an externally-facing way outside of the Gurdwara space) among Sikhs in this country, I offer that the “giving back” framing is a disservice in two respects: first, that it is not precisely reflective of Sikh teachings, and second, it feeds the idea of the immigrant community as a “lesser” while also engaging in the model minority myth.

Accordingly, it might be worth some collective revisiting around the intentions behind what langar is and what our relationship is with it. After all, the language used to define also has feedback implications that shape us.

Gurbani (Sikh scripture) frames the practice of langar as extending the Guru’s blessings. The practice of providing langar is specifically mentioned in the Guru Granth Sahib, Ang (page) 967, relating to the time of the second Guru:

Note that in this excerpt, there is no implication that langar is intended to return anything that was taken, and that langar is not done as an obligation. Instead, the perspective is more akin to extending the blessings from the Divine and Guru — the source of all that is in this world. It is, in effect, an act of love. And, it resonates with the closing invocation in Ardaas, a Sikh prayer, which (with a loose translation) states:

ਨਾਨਕ ਨਾਮ ਚੜ੍ਹਦੀ ਕਲਾ ॥ ਤੇਰੇ ਭਾਣੇ ਸਰਬੱਤ ਦਾ ਭਲਾ ॥
Nanak, in the Divine Presence may we remain in high spirits. May Your Blessings bring peace to all.

Seva, langar and community service, then, are rooted in the Divine. According to Sikhi, everything is has manifested from the Creator, belongs to the Creator and flows from the Creator according to Its Will. The only ownership suggested is directly tied to the Divine and not to any physical entity.

At the risk of delineating too fine a distinction, “giving back” implies that something was taken and is now being returned. Further, in ascribing this framing to community identity (i.e. “Sikhs believe that we should give back”, “this is what we are taught”), the community is obliging itself to the majority around it. Ownership is assigned to the people we supposedly took from.

Conversely, the Guru-inspired perspective of distributing the Divine’s blessings is more true to our ethos invoked in our Ardaas and in other Sikh invocations. There is no giving back because it is all owned by the Divine. Recall the closing lines of the excerpt provided above, wherein the references to the faces of the Guru Sikh’s are described as radiant, whereas those who exhibit pride and ego — elements of self will — are described in lackluster terms. In effect, those who serve langar as a service of Guru are praised more glowingly than those who are engaged in ego-driven pursuits.

This clarity around langar is especially important because as a community, we are actively engaging in and promoting langar during these difficult times, but often there’s inserted a public relations flavor that is tinged with promoting us as a model community or minority. Through the lens of charitable values, this framing of langar is feeding the model minority myth, setting unjust standards for the Sikh community and other minorities around validating our existence according to majority-applauded standards. At the very worst, when we are marketing ourselves as a charitable community, we are pitting ourselves against other minorities.

Accordingly, Sikhs, particularly in the diaspora, should be intentional about how we frame langar. I propose that the language we have defaulted to in the west is conferring a meaning that detracts from the original intention of langar, and as such, some re-alignment is valuable. The implications of the vocabulary we are using not only signal incongruent and uncomfortable notions in relation to Sikhi, it also educates and establishes definitions that will redefine our intentions going forward.

Instead, we should be deliberate about rooting our practice of langar as described in the Guru Granth Sahib to ensure that this practice provides explicit and direct connections with the Divine. The more intentional and explicit we can be about this, the more we will bring ourselves closer to our Guru’s teachings.