I came in from the fields and found my wife sleeping, her head was down on the
table, and there was some papers in her hand. Without
disturbing her I gently removed them and read what she had written.
"Everything has been changing so suddenly, I don't know who to tell, there is no one to tell, but
I must tell someone, so I am just writing this to myself to try to organize my thoughts, to try to find some sense,
to all the changes, recently, in my life.
My husband had been acting so strangely, weeping and talking about
sleep and death.
Then he met this unusual man, Sat Kartar Singh. This man is a Sikh. He wears a beard,
and has uncut hair which he keeps bound in a
turban. After this meeting my husband was much calmer, less disturbed, happy
even, but still nothing has ever been normal again in the usual sense.
We went for keertan, to this Singhs home.
The music was very beautiful,
It wrenched my heart, and made me want to weep, I didn't say anything, because I felt
so strange, and the children's father seemed so happy I didn't want to break the spell.
Then a few mornings later
he went running from the house. When he returned he seemed calmer, he told me we were going to a Sikh gathering.
smagham had the most unusual effect on me. It is hard to describe, but I must try. It has changed my whole life...
met a very unusual woman there. She was a Singhni. I think she was the most beautiful woman I have
ever met in my life. Her face
was radiant and glowed with sach light. Her eyes had sach depth, when
I looked into them it was as though the universe opened up its
mysteries to me.
This woman Bibi ji, was unlike
other woman. Her face was covered with hair like a young man, soft black and curly. She sat quietly and greeted
me quietly and softly.
From the very first I was drawn to her. So many were staying at that gathering, she asked
me to come and sleep with her and the other ladies.
My husband joined the men, and children went off with others their
Bibi ji slept completely covered with a black lo-ee. Or I was never sure that she was sleeping, she was so
still. I found myself
yearning to be like her.
Like the Singhs she also kept her hair bound in a turban.
I thought of all the women in my village, with their jewelry, make up lipstick, and nail polish, silk dresses, and artificial
finery, none were so beautiful as Bibi ji. She had only 2 changes of clothes, very simple, one blue, and one white,
and the ever present black lo-ee.
In the morning everyone began getting up very early, I heard strange sounds,
as though there were many lovers, I was frightened and covered my face with my blanket. I slept very late. No
one disturbed me.
Later Bibi ji came to take me to the langer. I saw my husband there. He greeted me "Waheguru
ji ka Khalsa Waheguru ji ki Fateh." I had never heard these words spoken before. I smiled and nodded.
I asked Bibi
ji what the words meant. She said "This is how Singhs greet each other." She told me when Guru Gobind Singh, the
of the Khalsa, gave AMrit, he told Singhs to greet each other in this manner. I was even more curious. She
explained about Guru Gobind Singh and Guru Nanak.
I asked her "How does one become a Singh?"
She said "They
must be given Guru jis AMrit, that is baptized "
Just then a very fierce looking Singh, carrying weapons, entered the
langer. I must have looked alarmed, She said not to be afraid. He was our protector. Then she explained about the Siri
Guru Granth Sahib. There was so much to learn. But I was so thirsty to hear everything. I can't explain even now,
to my self what was
happening to me. It was so bewildering. I just knew I did not want to leave Bibi jis side.
said "Lets go to the keertan." She did keertan for one hour, the same 4 lines over and over,
aa-e mil, main chireen vichhunnay raam raajay.
Mayraa man tan bahut bairaage-aa, har nain ras bhinnay.
Main har prabh
pi-aaraa das gur, mil har man mannay
Haon moorakh kaarai laa-ee-aa, naanak har kammay
"I am unworthy. I am unworthy
of your love."
She was weeping. I was weeping. A beautiful young girl wiped the tears from her face as she sang.
I wondered where her children and husband were. It was obvious to me that she was in some sort of deep mourning. I thought
she must have lost a child. I learned later
that this mourning was called "vairaag" by the Sikhs. It
meant deep and urgent longing for the Guru. I felt so much love for her.
That evening when we went for sleep.
I asked her if she would wake me too, in the morning. She agreed, then, disappeared beneath her
I was sleeping face down, I heard "waheguru waheguru" just as I turned,
she touched me, I gasped. An electrical current shot though
my body shocking me. "Are you ok ?" she asked. I replied
only that I had been startled. How could I explain?
She led me to the showers, "isnaan", she said. During
her bath she kept on some of her clothing. I was surprised, she said these are
kachara, and kirpan, they are a part of
me given to me at baptism I can never be separated from them... She explained more about the
baptism, how one never removes
hair and must keep a comb, and kara also, with one at all times. Her hair, kesh, fell to her knees
gleaming as she
washed, oiled, and combed it.
Beside her I felt utterly filthy, to my soul. I started weeping, I couldn't stop
my self, "No amount of water can ever clean me," I sobbed. She put her arms around me, lovingly and said, "Guru
can wash you clean in an instant, when you receive His AMrit."
We went to join the others. "Waheguru Waheguru
waheguru waheguru waheguru" Every one together, in once voice was calling "waheguru"; it was very comforting.
I met my husband again , I said," I want to take the AMrit." He looked deeply into my eyes and smiled. It felt
as though he touched my soul.
The thing is since baptism I have undergoing so many changes. Nothing has been easy, everything
has been very difficult, and sometimes a real struggle. Those three hairs, I had plucked from my chin before, have turned
to fifty. All my facial hair has gotten darker and much heavier. I don't know what to do. I feel so hideous, and
yet there is my Masters face looking back at me when ever I look in the mirror.
Some of my closest former friends are
shunning me. I know it is not because they do not love me., They are uncomfortable, and so am I. But my farmer comes
in from the fields happy now. He looks at me and says, "I feel so alive." He tells me I am beautiful and the daughter
of Guru Gobind Singh, but it doesn't stop the shame. The Singhs give me so much love and treat me as their sister. But inside
I see the beautiful smooth faces of other women, and I feel disfigured.
Bibi ji was special, she had courage, I am
not like her. I want to cover my face in shame. I weep into the ramalas and plead with Guru ji, for what? To make
me like other women rather than like Him. I can't ask for that, and so I just weep and feel ashamed. I feel like I am
being punished for all my past misdeeds. Sometimes, I don't know how I can bear it.
We went to another smagham.
A young girl was washing feet. I heard her say, "Who is she she? She is so beautiful." Later she met me
said, "They say you practice a different kind of Sikhism." I said, "There is only one Waheguru, What is
different? We both love
Him. Sikhism is Sikhism." I wanted to tell her , "Yes, do AMrit vela, do waheguru waheguru waheguru
waheguru waheguru. Do naAM simran." But I couldn't say anything.
I felt beautiful, but I know that I am not. It's just
vanity , this body is corruption, and it is rotting away. Nothing matters to me
any more but naAM and my Kakars
and Paath. I can't be separated from them, it would kill me. Literally I would die. Slip back into a
not fit to be called human, consumed in pain, always trying to anesthetize myself with fruitless activities.
a struggle to wake up and do Paath. Sometimes we are so sleepy, we want to go for the bed, but we look at each other and
how it was before, that is enough to wake us up again. I envy those born to this path, so pure and innocent,
feel the traces of dirt..."
I put the papers down, and woke my wife, I pulled her into my arms,
and looked in to her eyes, *HE* looked back at me.
"I didn't know, you should have told me. I have been so selfish,
thinking everything was me all this time. I thought you just did this for me. Forgive me."
We both started weeping
in to each others arms. "It will be ok, we'll get through this with waheguru waheguru waheguru waheguru waheguru." Then we
were weeping and laughing together.
The children came in and found us. They just looked at us like we were
crazy, "What's for langer?" the little one asked.
to be continued...