On an Island, a few weeks after the mouth-to-mouth sabjee incident…

Bibi Saloni walked along the road leading down to the seashore. The Jap Ji Sahib’s discussion group had grown in size beyond the capacity of the Island’s only Community Hall and had begun meeting at the beach. It seemed somehow appropriate, for lately discussions had taken a turn, comparing the many similarities of WaheGuru and sand (but that’s a different Story albeit a fascinating one ;)

An old man, who Bibi Saloni recognized as the x-Judge sauntered towards her, absorbed in singing.  Although he used a walking stick, he strode with the carefree gait of a much younger young man.  As he came closer, Bibi Saloni made out the words of his song

mY min cwau Gxw swic ivgwsI rwm] mohI pRym ipry pRiB AibnwsI rwm]

mai man chaao ghanaa saach vigaasee raam|| mohee praem pirae prabh abinaasee raam||

My mind is filled with such a great joy; I have blossomed forth in Truth. I am enticed by the love of my Eternal and Imperishable Lord.

When the x-Judge got closer, he broke into a little dance and tipping his head sang, “A blissful and a fine afternoon to you, O Crazy Flower Lady.” 

The gorgeous day lifted her spirits. Even if someone had called her a Mad Witch (as had happened once or twice before), she would still have laughed and tipped her head in return. 

“Crazy Flower Lady, eh?” she thought, “Never heard that one before!” She had been called many names (most of them beautiful) but she preferred to be called, “Saloni”. She had been given this name by her mami because, (as her mami put it) of her “spiritually deep” eyes. In those long ago days young Saloni had been more interested in eating sweet dates from the trees in her village than in contemplating spirituality.  But a chance encounter changed all that…

~~ <> vwihgurU ~~

On that particular day, young Saloni had to sit for an exam.  As usual, she walked to the edge of the sugar cane fields and waited for her friends to show up at their regular meeting place.

Normally they would walk together along the path through the spider and snake-infested fields. They would chatter loudly to bolster their courage, hoping the sound of their voices would scare off the critters inhabiting the fields and keep them from getting too close.  Quickly skirting past any strangers they should chance to encounter, they would make their way to the school in the nearby town. 

Unbeknownst to Solani, the other girls had gone on without her (no doubt due to some misunderstanding - you know how fickle teenage girls can be).  She waited and waited, growing more and anxious with each passing minute… I hear a “What’s the big deal about missing a shoddy exam?” from reader 2 of 2.  Good question, young reader, glad to see you awake!  You see back in those days, missing an exam without a good enough excuse (“Preeto had a fight with me, so didn’t pick me up” is not nearly good enough) could mean redoing the entire school year over.

After a long and fretful wait, the young Saloni decided to brave it out and walk to school alone. Reciting Chaupai Sahib, she ventured cautiously forward. It seemed certain she would be late. That by itself would have been enough to make her feel anxious. Known for punctuality, the instructor had a number of ways of inspiring late-comers never to be late again such as keeping students after school. That meant Solani would have to face walking home alone again in the gathering gloom of evening shadows. A chill crept up her spine.

Hurrying through the fields, she kept a sharp eye on the look-out for frogs, toads, salamanders, spiders, snakes, serpents, scorpions and other skittery, slippery, slimy, slithery, stinging, stinking, strange  sorts of creepy, crawly, creatures known to scurry and scutter about, lurking in the cane fields just waiting for young girls to venture in alone… Shuddering, her nerves on edge, and fraught with worry, she feared an impending anxiety attack. Increasingly apprehensive, her mind busily engaged itself in an all-out anxiety fest! 

Hastening along, she saw an old man on a bicycle riding towards her.  Her mami had warned her not to talk to strangers, so she lowered her head and walked on; keeping her eyes on the path ahead of her.  She saw the bicycle come to a stop a few feet in front of her. She heard a rustle behind her as something skittered close by. The anxiety-fest in her mind grew from a simple fest to a mother of all fests.  Then she heard, “Child, what are you doing alone in the fields?” 

The deep, rich, soft voice, filled with concern and caring, calmed her down. She looked up to see an old man with a completely white flowing beard and a very gentle face.  Although a complete stranger, he somehow seemed very familiar to her.  He spoke again, “Child, I am taking this sack of wheat home.”  He pointed to a big bag on the back rack of his bicycle. “Please tell me if I may be of help to you in any way?” The young Bibi Jee told him all that had occurred, her words tumbling out in a rush of relief.

Without another word, the old man dropped the sack from his rack to the ground and motioned her to get on behind him.  He turned around and began pedaling towards the town as quickly as his aged legs would allow.  He asked her name; upon hearing ‘Solani’ he started singing the shabad,

“jwgu slonVIey bolY gurbwxI rwm] ijin suix mMinAVI AkQ khwxI rwm]

jaag salonarreeeae bolai gurabaanee raam|| jin sun manniarree akathh kehaanee raam||”

He sang in a beautiful, powerful voice. The young Saloni, almost forgetting about her shoddy exams, sang along as best as she could.  When he dropped her outside the school, he told her that she had a wonderful voice and asked her if she would be interested in singing with him. .  She nodded and thanked him before running into the exam hall, and nearly bumping into her teacher in her haste.

The teacher had seen the old man and began questioning Solani while informing her of his musical achievements. He turned out to be a talented and accomplished musician. Overcome with excitement, the teacher completely over-looked the fact that Solani had come in late and she scooted into her seat just as the exam began. (To this day Bibi ji does not remember exactly what marks she got on her exam; but she will always remember the look on that churRhaiL (Subtitles: Witch) Preeto’s face when she got through telling her off on the way back home after class).

The young Saloni had never been very interested in gurbani before (except to ward off the snakes and evil spirits who dwelt in the fields). The encounter with the old man spurred her curiosity so she looked up the meaning of the shabad the Naami Musician had sung to her.  What she read astounded her. (O one with splendorous eyes, awake and chant the Guru's Bani. The ones who (chant), listen and believe in this bani realize the un-realizable Lord). She felt just as though the writer spoke directly to her!  Remembering the gentleness of the Naami Musician she shyly sought him out and began spending more and more time with him learning keertan and the meaning of gurbani. 

The Naami Musician led a simple life. Passionate only about Naam and singing gurbani, he would fall sick when he couldn’t get either of them in large enough doses!  Unconcerned about money, he contented himself with whatever he had. Should an unplanned expense, arise he would admonish, “The Guru will send it all back another way!”

Extremely humble and loving to all living creatures, The Naami Musician, wouldn’t even kill snakes. Instead he would carefully carry them off to the Forest (at the insistence of young Solani that he not return them to the cane field “PLEASE!”)

He treated young Saloni like one of his daughters and she loved him like the father she’d grown up without.  Besides teaching her keertan, he told her about the hidden gems of Naam and shared some of his mind-blowing Naam experiences with her.  Slowly her love for Naam blossomed as she sat beside him Singing shabads, lovingly and with deep affection. Bibi Saloni considered such times the most precious and wonder-filled period of her life, feeling blessed to have had been graced with ‘bani’-fide Naami sangat. 

As time passed, the young Saloni’s love for gurbani, Naam and the Naami Musician (not necessarily in that order) grew daily. She planned, once she had graduated from school, to learn more difficult shabads from the Naami Musician. But WaheGuru (as always) had other plans. The Naami Musician began to grow frail and weak. The doctor diagnosed a fatal disease.  Because her studies had centered on health care, Solani obtained permission and under took his complete care with all her heart and soul. She served him around the clock practically living at his house.  He came to trust her above anyone (even the nurses) and always asked for her before making any decision.  Their father-daughter relationship blossomed into an even deeper spiritual love for each other.

 A few months before the Naami Musician departed this world for the light of the spiritual realm, he told Solani, “You know, when I first met you, I thought of you as my daughter and cared for you as such. But now you care for me in such a way that I consider you my mother!  I feel the depth of your love. When I am gone, start loving WaheGuru with the same intensity as you love me – WaheGuru, unlike any other love, will never leave you!”

Solani held his hand as he took his last breath. She bent near murmuring Waheguru in to his ear he took leave of his human body.  Til the present day Solanis heart contracts when she remembers how he left his body uttering as his very last word “Guru”.

One wonderful thing had happened; before the Naami Musician departed this existence he had agreed to record his life-story on an audio machine on the condition that the tape should remain sealed until after he had passed on. Bibi Saloni considered the tape one of her most precious possessions and gained immense spiritual love, wisdom and encouragement each time she listened to it.

As she walked alongside the x-judge towards the beach, the idea came to her that she should bring the tape to one of her future discussions and let the discussion group members listen to it. She regretted that she didn’t have it with her because the pauree they planned to discuss perfectly described the Naami Musician’s life.

When she arrived at the beach, her discussion group members were waiting and gave her big warm hugs. After they got settled into a big circle one of them read the 28^th pauree of Jap Ji Sahib…

muMdw sMqoKu srmu pqu JolI iDAwn kI krih ibBUiq] iKMQw kwlu kuAwrI kwieAw jugiq fMfw prqIiq] AweI pMQI sgl jmwqI min jIqY jgu jIqu]

mundhaa santhokh saram path jholee dhhiaan kee karehi bibhooth|| khinthhaa kaal kuaaree kaaeiaa jugath ddanddaa paratheeth|| aaee panthhee sagal jamaathee man jeethai jag jeeth||

Bibi Saloni instructed, “This shabad describes the essential qualities needed bu a successful yogi. Yoga means “union”; as in joining with WaheGuru. Dhan Guru Nanak’s advises souls who are interested in joining with WaheGuru telling them that outer religious symbols alone are not enough; inner spiritual values need to be cultivated too. Guru Jee, though speaking directly to yogis about their religious symbols, is actually speaking to all aspiring “unionists”.

Guru Sahib says a true yogi wears the ear-rings of contentment and carries the begging bowl of humility. The dust on a true yogi’s body is meditation of WaheGuru and the hand’s staff is purity and faith. A true yogi considers all living beings as family.

A yogi with the above qualities conquers the mind and thus the whole world!”

Awdysu iqsY Awdysu] Awid AnIlu Anwid Anwhiq jugu jugu eyko vysu]28]

aadhaes thisai aadhaes|| aadh aneel anaadh anaahath jug jug eaeko vaes||

Bibi Saloni continued, “Then Dhan Guru Nanak bows to and calls the Formless WaheGuru the primal One, the pure One, One without beginning and without end; and One who is unchanged throughout eternity.”

~~ <> vwihgurU ~~

That night, Bibi Saloni and her husband sat on their porch overlooking the Ocean.  As usual they talked, did simran and recited gurbani together for a few minutes while the breezy moonless night muffled the sound of the waves. After a while they both fell silent; she lost in Jap Ji Sahib next pauree’s meanings and he in his good fortune in having someone like Bibi Saloni as his partner. 

Their musings came to an abrupt halt when sparkles shooting out of Bibi Jee’s bag caught their attention.

They looked at each other excitedly, “I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed, “It’s my sakhee’s letter!  About time too!”  He got up to get the letter, but before he had taken even one step, it rose from the bag and came floating towards them!  “Ooooh, this is new!” she squealed delightedly, clapping her hands like a 3-year-old.

It had been sometime since she had sent the Amrit Vela Rose letter. She had been waiting for a reply with mounting anticipation knowing the longer it took for her sakhee to reply, the better the letter would be.  It had been their tradition in writing to each other to discover that each letter exceeded the previous one – and this one did not disappoint.

Triangular in shape, the letter stopped in midair about 2 feet from them and slowly unfolded to reveal a pure white rose bud shaped from purest white light. 

She looked around and seeing them, shyly hid again.  After few moments, she raised her head and this time, waved to them as she fully emerged from the white rose.  She seemed to be made of mellow sunlight and had 2 transparent bluish wings. She fluttered these about until she rose about a foot above the petals. Watching the awe-struck couple she hovered in midair and cleared her throat. A lighted musical note came out of it and hung suspended in the air. A light sea breeze blew gently. The note struck a pillar of their porch and popped a D major sound. 

Another angel of a light green hue came out shyly and flitted up to join the first one.  Soon five angels hovered in midair - each had cleared their throat and different musical note had been released.  All of the notes popped pinging like strings plucked on a banjo. Completely dumbstruck Bib ji and her husband held their breath unable to tear their eyes away from the spectacle unfolding in front of them.

And then to top it all, a sitar with wings emerged! 

Completely overcome the couple broke from their trance and clapped their hands gleefully.  The angels and the sitar bowed towards them.  The sitar began playing the most mesmerizing music that their ears had ever heard.  The angels began singing the Shabad, each gurbani tukk coming out of their mouths in different lighted colors …

iBMnVI rYix BlI idns suhwey rwm] inj Gir sUqVIey iprmu jgwey rwm ]

bhinnarree rain bhalee dhinas suhaaeae raam|| nij ghar sootharreeae piram jagaaeae raam||

The night is beautiful, drenched with dew, and the day is delightful, when her Husband Lord wakes the sleeping soul-bride, in the home of the self.

Total silence descended when the Shabad ended.  Even the waves and the wind seemed to have been too wonderstruck to make any sounds.  Musical notes and gurbani tukks lit up the porch.

The notes like musical bubbles popped whenever one of them touched anything. The neon colored tukks however bounced around ricocheting off of whatever they happened to come into contact with (kind of like 3 dimensional screen savers) then after a while, the gurbani tukks streaked out towards the sea still  fully intact. 

The angels and the sitar bowed took a final bow then re-entered the rose. Its petals folded inwardly as the rose closed and the letter floated to the ground and slowly dimming out.

Bibi Solani pulled up the beach blanket lying at her feet.  She snuggled up to her husband’s shoulder, a sure sign that their bed would remain empty that night, for she could not bear to  break the vismad rang spell the shabad had cast upon her with either speech or a change of location. She closed her eyes diving deep into Naam and its glories.

Sometime later they dozed off for a while, waking shortly after midnight.  The moon had risen casting a dim glow over the porch. Slightly chilled they snuggled closer gazing at each other in the moonlight. They held hands in the silence. In the distance they could make out tiny lights reflecting over the ocean. Could they be the gurbani tukks still shimmering they wondered.

Without uttering a single word, they sat up. Still clasping hands, they began doing simran in the exquisite hours of early morning. They had been lulled to sleep drenched in Naam, and had spent the entire night immersed in Naam. The mind already imbued in Naam luxuriated in its absolute exquisiteness. 

They sat there for an hour or so, then each one took a quick shower before hurrying back, not wanting to miss out on any of the precious Naam-permeated moments of that morning.  As the Sun began its glorious ascent, its Orange flames streaking the dark sky, reflecting in cascading ripples bleeding into reddened waters, they did Nitnem together relishing each bani.

After Nitnem, they lay back to rest dozing off until the Sun had crested over the Ocean.  They woke, stretched and breathed deeply of the fresh sea air feeling as though they could fly.

Bibi Saloni noticed a small hand-written note lying on the spot where the musical letter had dimmed out. She quickly bent over and picked it up to find an “ordinary” letter from her sakhee. She read it aloud,