{"id":5665,"date":"2016-06-26T02:25:54","date_gmt":"2016-06-25T20:55:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/13.201.39.237\/?p=5665"},"modified":"2016-06-26T02:25:54","modified_gmt":"2016-06-25T20:55:54","slug":"gur-purab-childhood-langar-guru-nanak-jayanti","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/13.207.105.184\/?p=5665","title":{"rendered":"Gurpurab of My Childhood: Langar, Mul Mantar, and My Dadi\u2019s History Lessons"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\u201cS<\/span>at Sri Akaal, beta.\u201d I hear my dadi\u2019s voice on the line.\n\n\u201cSat Sri Akaal, dadi.\u201d My patent greeting for her. \u201cKi haal,\u201d she asks.\n\nShit. Years of casual Hinglish being thrown around in my metropolitan upbringing had led to the demise of my already broken Punjabi<\/span><\/a>. I switch over to English. A little chitter-chatter ensues, where Dadi excitedly informs me about how her day went. She\u2019s been watching the live telecast of the Golden Temple on PTC Punjabi. \u201cIt\u2019s decked up beautifully with lanterns and lights for Gurpurab. A heavenly sight.\u201d<\/span>\n\nGurpurab<\/span><\/a>. Oh yes. Guru Nanak\u2019s birthday. When is that again? I scratch my head and ask sheepishly. Patiently, as always, she replies, \u201cNovember 12th.\u201d\n\nUnlike my grandparents, my pro-activeness toward practising <\/span>Sikhism<\/span><\/a> has been perpetually non-existent. I wear the kara, and don\u2019t rebel when my father wants me to accompany him to a gurdwara when I go home on vacation, but that\u2019s about it. My stint in Punjab was a short-lived one. With father being in the forces, we were transferred around a lot. Chandigarh visits were limited to vacationing at Dadi\u2019s house, and a few years of senior high school.\n\n\u201cFor Gurpurab I remember all of us going to the <\/span>Golden Temple<\/span><\/a> when you were younger.\u00a0 And even to the one in Sector 34. You loved the kadha prasad,\u201d her voice wavers. Yes Dadi. Yes, I did really love it. I remember clutching my father\u2019s finger with my tiny hand as we made our way through the crowd, my head covered with mother\u2019s red dupatta, clenching onto a \u20b9100 note for dear life until I managed to \u201cmatha tekna\u201d and slip it inside the donation box. That was always my \u201cduty\u201d and I would take it very seriously. \n\n\u201cSo what are you doing for Gurpurab this year,\u201d I ask her. \u201cWe\u2019ll go and have langar. Now we\u2019re older, so we can\u2019t sit for the kirtan for too long. Our knees ache.\u201d A hearty laugh. \u201cBut back in the day, your Dadu would go to the gurdwara at 4 am every day for 10 days straight, and sing the kirtan. He had such a melodic voice. Still does.\u201d I do remember grandpa singing beautiful hymns at numerous occasions. Something tugs at my heart. I should have been around for more family events.\n\nAlthough I believe that God is energy, and energy is omnipresent, I also feel guilty for not going to the gurdwara at all now, in spite of my father\u2019s quarterly reminders. I cross many on numerous occasions, but I\u2019m always rushing to someplace. Work. Home. A party. Somebody\u2019s <\/span>birthday<\/span><\/a>. The thought of life keeps me busy enough to console myself for never stopping for even five minutes, and\u2026 saying hello, I guess. The need to solve the intricacies of the present somewhat precedes the wish to preserve some dying memories. \u201cNext time,\u201d I tell myself.\n\n\u201cDo you remember the teachings of Guru Nanak that I had taught you,\u201d <\/span>Dadi<\/span><\/a> finally asks me. I have a blurry memory of her reciting the Mul Mantar to me over and over again until it was engraved in my mind. \u201cIk Onkar, Sat Naam.\u201d I could recite the opening phrase in my sleep. But as Dadi passionately went over the chapters of Sikh history, my young mind started drifting toward the fairy tales that lay outside of that small town. So no, I don\u2019t have a recollection of anything else she taught me. Instinctively, I look down at my inner wrist. A calligraphic symbol of Ik Onkar is tattooed in black ink. I had got it done when life was throwing unanticipated curveballs my way, and the going got tough. In hindsight, I can\u2019t seem to recall why I gravitated toward this symbol.\n\n

Guru Nanak formalised three pillars of Sikhism. One: Naam Japo. Two: Kirat Karo. And three: Va\u1e47\u1e0d Chhak\u014d.<\/p><\/blockquote> \n\nDadi goes on to reacquaint me with what I\u2019m having trouble remembering. \u201cGuru Nanak formalised three pillars of Sikhism. One: Naam Japo. Recite God\u2019s name. Two: Kirat Karo. Earn an honest living with hard work and all that God has bestowed upon you. And three: <\/span>Va\u1e47\u1e0d Chhak\u014d. Share what you have.\u201d\n\nI think hard. I already try to do all those things. Being kind. Compassionate. True. A good human being. Is that what the Guru meant? \u201cI didn\u2019t know these were the three pillars, dadi. But without knowing, I do try to follow them.\u201d I could feel her smiling. \u201cThen,\u201d she tells me, \u201cI guess you were paying a little more attention than you thought you were.\u201d\n\nI cringe. She\u2019s giving me more credit than I deserve. <\/span>My identity as a Sikh only exists on paper now, and through my name. Every now and then, I fear not being able to pass on any traditions to my children. I realise that my <\/span>grandmother<\/span><\/a>\u2019s generation is my last link to a deep-rooted history that I never took the time or effort to understand. What does it mean to be a Sikh?\n\n\u201cSikh simply means a disciple. A student. And as long as you\u2019re practicing the three pillars given by the Guru, you\u2019ll be fine. And anytime you feel lost, or low, just recite the Mul Mantar. Do you remember it?\u201d Yes, I do. That much, I do. Although I can hear her voice getting tired, she starts reciting over the phone. \u201cIk Onkar, Sat Naam, Karta Purakh\u2026\u201d I join in, just like when I was a <\/span>child<\/span><\/a>. I suddenly crave to be there with her. A young girl waking up to the soft sound of Gurbani playing and the smell of fresh kadha prasad. Where did the time go?\n\nIt\u2019s time to say goodbye. \u201cIt would be Guru Nanak\u2019s 550th birthday on November 12. It\u2019s a special one,\u201d she reminds me. \u201cIs there a <\/span>gurdwara<\/span><\/a> around where you stay?\u201d\n\nI don\u2019t know. \u201cYes, there is,\u201d I bluff.\n\n\u201cTry to go, if you have time. And do a little seva, if you can. And have langar. It will remind you of your childhood, beta. Sat Sri Akal.\u201d Click. Goodbyes are done.\n\nIt will remind you of your childhood.\n\nMy mother\u2019s red dupatta. My father\u2019s \u20b9100 note. The loud clanging of the plates at the langar. Kadha prasad. My grandmother\u2019s history lessons. My <\/span>grandfather<\/span><\/a>\u2019s hymns. These were all part of my childhood. All part of my roots. All moments that I forgot to acknowledge as time went by.\n\nI don\u2019t know what it means to be a Sikh yet. I couldn\u2019t even if I wanted to. And that is why it would be so important to go back. To be a student again. I don\u2019t know all of Guru Nanak\u2019s teachings, nor do I understand all the words in the Gurbani. But this time, when the Gurpurab comes around, I\u2019ll go down to a Gurdwara, and maybe just say, \u201cHi.\u201d And that would be a start.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I remember clutching my father\u2019s finger as we made our way through the crowd at the Golden Temple. My head was covered with mother\u2019s red dupatta; I was clenching onto a \u20b9100 note for dear life until I managed to slip it inside the donation box. That was always my \u201cduty\u201d and I would take it very seriously.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":221,"featured_media":5666,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3452],"tags":[382,9583,9584,9585,2125,5539],"class_list":["post-5665","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-culture","tag-golden-temple","tag-guru-purab","tag-gurunanak-jayanti","tag-gurunanak550","tag-punjabi","tag-traditions"],"yoast_head":"\nGurpurab of My Childhood: Langar, Mul Mantar, and My Dadi\u2019s History Lessons<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"I remember clutching my father\u2019s finger as we made our way through the crowd at the Golden Temple. My head was covered with mother\u2019s red dupatta; I was clenching onto a \u20b9100 note for dear life until I managed to slip it inside the donation box. 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