Our sister started her story…

“I woke up as a 10-year-old boy (“eeeoo, gross!” exclaimed the kaRtaal killa kid) in a tent in the Arabian Desert!   At first, as you can imagine, I felt very disoriented and thought that I was dreaming, but then decided that I had been dreaming about the InterStellar Elevator, my dummy brother and his even dummier friends - just kidding, I actually kinda missed you all. 

 

 We lived as nomads. My father, a well-known scholar and writer, lead a caravan of over 100 camels, 40 of them laden with just his collection of books!! (yes a virtual nomad library). A couple of the camels carried books penned by my father.  The books all had topics spiritual in nature. My father had engaged himself in writing another book which discussed interstellar life. He held the pen in his hand dipping it into the inkwell, when my pretty-self ‘popped’ in “there”.  Father believed Earth not to be the only heavenly body which had been graced with intelligent life; and in his book, he presented arguments for this theory.  Feeling naturally close to my father, I told him about my “interstellar dream”. He intently listened to me before shrugging it off as an interesting fantasy. 

 

Life was very good.  I was the darling of the caravan (besides being cute, I was also extremely intelligent … kinda like I am now)”

 

(<Astr-ouch!> “Hey, I haven’t even thought of saying anything”, I grumbled). 

 

 “My father was well-respected and wherever we went, large crowds of people gathered to listen to his ideas; which he would discuss passionately and convincingly. He was my hero and I could not have been prouder of him.

 

But over time, I noticed that he spoke less animatedly when giving his talks as though some spark  inside had gone out.  Oh, he would get the crowds worked up and cheering but I could see his taste for such fares waned and he increasingly found these discussions less palatable. 

 

Each night before putting me to bed, my father spent time with me; asking me questions about what I had learnt that day and also teaching me new things.  Concerned about his growing lassitude, I ventured to ask him one evening “Why are you sad these days?”

 

 He laughed it off that night, but the next evening he remarked, “Son, yesterday you asked me why I am sad – I thought about that all day long and I will tell you why tonight – you might not understand at this tender age, but I have no one else to confide in and perhaps this will help me better understand my sadness too!”  He became quite serious and said, “Over the years, I have become quite well-known and each of my discussions is closely listened to and analyzed by perhaps thousands of people.  I have relished that very much and I always thank Allah for bestowing such luck upon me.  But… but there is no peace within me – my mind is so shallow that I am ashamed of it.  For example, whenever someone praises me, I become happy and replay the praise in my mind for several days – repeating to anyone and everyone who listens.  In fact, I feel ashamed to confess this but, whenever no one comments on my speech, I go and seek comments from people who I know will praise my speech.  And of course they say it was great; and despite knowing they are saying it just to be polite, I still become happy from hearing their words. 

 

On the other hand, when someone criticizes my work, I feel angry and tell people how much of an ignorant and arrogant fool the criticizer is.  Oh, how fickle and vain I am! (he sneered scornfully) It never ceases to surprise me how much a single word can move my mind.  I might be on the top of the world and then someone says a single unkind word about my work and I fall down thinking I am worthless.  I am exhausted with the ups and downs; and I am tired of my vanity.  I want to remain in equipoise but it escapes me no matter how much more I learn.  I am a slave to other people and their words – and this is what makes me sad.”

 

I did not fully understand much of what he said but wrapped my arms around him and said, “For me, you are the greatest and I will pray tonight that you get what you want.”

 

Perhaps my prayers were heard because the very next day, a sense of excitement filled the air as the news spread that the great Scholar Guru Nanak would be coming to the city towards which our caravan headed.  My father was overjoyed (and a little worried) about this. He, along with all the scholars of the time, had heard of this Guru and how his revolutionary ideas affected the thoughts of devotees and scholars alike.  My father confessed to me that he was looking forward to meeting with the Guru for 2 reasons: one good and one bad.  Good being that he might learn something from him; bad because he wanted to defeat the famous Guru in an open debate. 

 

Soon the day came when our caravan arrived at the city.  My father and I walked to the dwelling that housed the Guru.  My father felt quite nervous - I squeezed his hand mentioning that I had heard the Guru to be gentle and kind.  But even I had no idea he would be so amazing. We knocked on the door and a man with beautifully deep eyes and an astonishingly clear radiant face opened the door.  “Ahh, welcome my scholarly friends!” he uttered with utmost sincerity and humility.  He took my hand and led me in.  I could feel my father relaxing, responding to the simplicity in the radiant man’s voice and the soothing atmosphere permeating everything around him.  I could tell that my father was quite taken with this man by his refusal to sit at the same level as our host, choosing instead to sit on the floor.  The man insisted that we sit with him on the divan; but after we did not comply, he came and sat with us.

 

 This radiant man made us feel so comfortable with his familiar way that soon we chattered about little things such as the weather and our travels.   My father told the radiant man about the writing of his current book and asked him for ideas. The man laughed heartily declaring, “I’m just a simple musician ,you should ask the Guru about such things!”

 

My father stared at him open-mouthed and stuttered, “The Guru?  Aren’t you the Guru?” 

 

Mirth bubbled up from the man and he chuckled, “No, no… I am the Guru’s servant.  I am so sorry, I should have introduced myself – I am Mardana, the rabaabi.”

 

Just then the Guru walked in. Wonder-struck, my father completely forgot to get up from the floor.  He just stared at the Guru in amazement repeating, “Dhan Guru Nanak, Dhan Guru Nanak.”  The Guru came and touched his shoulder and my father put his head on the Guru’s feet and started softly sobbing. 

 

 I didn’t know what to think of the situation. I loved the Guru beyond words.  I felt such a delight when  beholding him. However, I failed to understand my father’s bewildering behavior.  Soon though, I too understood. For  after my father’s sobbing subsided, he looked at me and instructed me, “Son, lay on your head here, on Dhan Guru Nanak’s feet – the fountain of all understanding and wisdom!”  I did as I was told. When my head touched the Guru’s feet, a shock went through my body – (the body of me as a young boy - that is akin to what I experienced when I partook amrit a few years ago in this body as your  extremely outstanding sister.)

 

The Guru requested both of us to sit up.  The radiant rabaabi told the Guru about  my father being a scholar (my father silently shook his head – he later told me he wanted to refute that but he felt so inconsequential that he didn’t even want to make a sound) interested in interstellar life. The Guru signaled the radiant rabaabi to start playing his rabaab.  With a clear angelic voice, the Guru sang this shabad  (which I now know to be the 19^th pauree of Jap Ji Sahib). 

 

AsMK nwv AsMK Qwv ] AgMm AgMm AsMK loA ]

asankh naav asankh thhaav || aganm aganm asankh loa ||

There are countless life forms in countless places with countless names that are inaccessible and unapproachable to our mind.

 AsMK khih isir Bwru hoie ]

asankh kehehi sir bhaar hoe ||

There are countless who say they know (all of creation) and are weighed down by this delusion.

 AKrI nwmu AKrI swlwh ] AKrI igAwnu gIq gux gwh ] AKrI ilKxu bolxu bwix ] AKrw isir sMjogu vKwix ]

akharee naam akharee saalaah || akharee giaan geeth gun gaah || akharee likhan bolan baan || akharaa sir sanjog vakhaan ||

(We are bound by words) - we use words to describe Naam and to praise the Creator; we use words to sing and write the glories (of the True One); we use words to describe the destiny on one’s forehead.

ijin eyih ilKy iqsu isir nwih ] ijv Purmwey iqv iqv pwih ] jyqw kIqw qyqw nwau ] ivxu nwvY nwhI ko Qwau ]

jin eaehi likhae this sir naahi || jiv furamaaeae thiv thiv paahi || jaethaa keethaa thaethaa naao || vin naavai naahee ko thhaao ||

But the Creator of words (and destiny) is not bound by anything - as the True One ordains, so do we receive.  (There is one Word which created all other words) - whatever was created was created by this One Word (Naam), thus there is no place without it.

 kudriq kvx khw vIcwru ] vwirAw n jwvw eyk vwr ] jo quDu BwvY sweI BlI kwr ] qU sdw slwmiq inrMkwr ] 19 ]

kudharath kavan kehaa veechaar || vaariaa n jaavaa eaek vaar || jo thudhh bhaavai saaee bhalee kaar || thoo sadhaa salaamath nirankaar ||

How can I describe the Creator’s creation? I cannot even once be a sacrifice to the Creator. O Eternal and Formless One., whatever pleases you is the best (course of action). 

 

Following the recital of the shabad; my father humbly murmered, “O great and wise Guru, I have but one request; these unapproachable worlds you sing about - is there any way that a lowly creature like me can see these?”  

 

The Guru smiled and lo and behold, I left my body through the top of my head!! I was once again disoriented as I found myself hovering about three feet above my body.  I did not understand what was happening but then I heard a subtle voice say, “look at your father’s soul”.  I did and saw the light of my father’s soul covered over with words of all sorts. I comprehended then that my father’s soul had been trapped because of these words.  I also understood my soul to be unhampered and free and that it could go anywhere – just as this thought crossed through my consciousness I felt a jolt, and traveled upwards. 

 

I had no fear - it felt as though I had done this thousand of times before –I felt immense joy as I left Earth very quickly.