Gurmat Stories - 2010

8/9/2019 Gurmat Stories - 2010

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Sunday Night:

Priceless Name

I looked at her. She was so beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. Nay, she was beauty

itself. She was wearing a bluish garment sparkling with light. Her face radiated peace andcomposure I had yet to experience on Earth. She was standing besides a river. The sun

was rising and the river reflected the dawn's beauty in all it's glory. The whole sceneraptured me and filled me with awe.

She had a big bag which seemed to be half filled with stones. It was only when she pulled

out one of the stones that I realized it was no ordinary stone. No, it was a beautiful gem.

I had never seen such a beautiful gem, surpassing the brilliance and the elegance of anygem on Earth.

Then she did a rather peculiar thing. She threw the gem into the river. Before I could say

anything she did the same thing again. And again. And again. It was beyond me howsuch beautiful gems could be so easily discarded by her. Couldn't she see how precious,

how valuable these gems were?

Once in a while, she would put a gem into her pocket. But then she would go right back

to dropping those beautiful gems, one after another, into the river.

Finally I broke out of my spell and said, "Who are you?"

She looked at me and her eyes sparkling with life and mirth, said, "I am you".

It completely shocked me to think that I could be that beautiful. "But", I stumbled, "I amugly and dirty, you are pure...?"

I could feel her laughter inside. "I am your soul."

Like a flash of lightening, I completely understood her. I saw her and me as one. My dirt

and ugliness were the false and fleeting me. She was the true me. Like a jewel wrapped

in rags, I had hidden her from the world. Nay, I had hidden her from me.

There was complete understanding.

I didn't have to ask her about her curious behaviour of throwing gems. The gems were thepriceless suaas (breaths) given to me. The ones I had spent on simran, she had put in her

pocket and had became part of her treasure. The rest were uselessly thrown away.

I wept deeply for the time spent in pursuit of the world.

I looked at her. She was so beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. Nay, she was beauty

itself. She was wearing a bluish garment sparkling with light. Her face radiated peace and


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composure I had yet to experience on Earth. She was standing besides a river. The sunwas rising and the river reflected the dawn's beauty in all it's glory. The whole scene

raptured me and filled me with awe.

She had a big bag which seemed to be half filled with stones. It was only when she pulled

out one of the stones that I realized it was no ordinary stone. No, it was a beautiful gem.I had never seen such a beautiful gem, surpassing the brilliance and the elegance of anygem on Earth.

Then she did a rather peculiar thing. She threw the gem into the river. Before I could say

anything she did the same thing again. And again. And again. It was beyond me howsuch beautiful gems could be so easily discarded by her. Couldn't she see how precious,

how valuable these gems were?

Once in a while, she would put a gem into her pocket. But then she would go right back

to dropping those beautiful gems, one after another, into the river.

Finally I broke out of my spell and said, "Who are you?".

She looked at me and her eyes sparkling with life and mirth, said, "I am you".

It completely shocked me to think that I could be that beautiful. "But", I stumbled, "I am

ugly and dirty, you are pure...?"

I could feel her laughter inside. "I am your soul."

Like a flash of lightening, I completely understood her. I saw her and me as one. My dirt

and ugliness were the false and fleeting me. She was the true me. Like a jewel wrapped

in rags, I had hidden her from the world. Nay, I had hidden her from me.

There was complete understanding.

I didn't have to ask her about her curious behaviour of throwing gems. The gems were the

priceless suaas (breaths) given to me. The ones I had spent on simran, she had put in her

pocket and had became part of her treasure. The rest were uselessly thrown away.

I wept deeply for the time spent in pursuit of the world.

Awsw mhlw 5 ]Aasaa, Fifth Mehl:

hir hir nwm Amolw ]Har Har Naam Amolaa.

The Name of the Lord, Har, Har, is priceless.


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Ehu shij suhylw ]1] rhwau ]Ouho Sahaj Suheylaa.1.Rahaa-ou.

It brings peace and poise. ||1||Pause||

sMig shweI Coif n jweI Eh Agh Aqlw ]1]Sa(n)g Sahaa-ee Chhodd Na Jaa-ee Ouho Agah Atolaa.1.The Lord is my Companion and Helper;He shall not forsake me or leave me.

He is unfathomable and unequalled. ||1||

pRIqmu BweI bwpu moro mweI Bgqn kw El@w ]2]Preetam Bhaa-ee Baap Moro Maa-ee Bhagtan Kaa Oolaa.2.He is my Beloved, my brother, father and mother;

He is the Support of His devotees. ||2||

AlKu lKwieAw gur qy pwieAw nwnk iehu hir kw col@w ]3]5]145]Alakh Lakhaa-ye-aa Gur Tey Paaye-aa NaanakEh Har Kaa Cholaa.3.5.145.The Invisible Lord is seen through the Guru;

O Nanak, this is the wondrous play of the Lord. ||3||5||145||


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Monday Night:

LionessBy: Harjit Singh

As found in The Warrior Princess 1

The wild animals were howling in the nearby jungle. The wind was biting Ranjit Kaurs

face as she wrapped her midnight-blue shawl around a little tighter. Nothing to be afraidof, she quietly carried on repeating Gods name, Waheguru, Waheguru in time to hersteps. It protected her in a glove of spiritual love.

She looked through the trees at the magnificent setting sun, for a moment she forgot all

about the war and was lost in the magic and mystery of the Creator. She felt as beautifulas a blossoming flower radiating love and life in all directions.

Sister! Sister!

Ranjit Kaur quickly turned around and saw a young boy in the uniform of the Khalsa

warrior. He was wearing the blue battledress. A long curved sword hung down his leftside, chain-mail armour across his chest and three metal discuses around his blue pointed

turban. Ranjit Kaur greeted him, Waheguru Jee Ka Khalsa, Waheguru Jee Kee Fateh!

Gurmukh Singh. Why are you out so late?

I was about to ask you the same thing sister. Dont you know how dangerous it is for a

woman to be out here alone while there are Mughal soldiers patrolling the area? You

better have a good excuse, otherwise Im marching you right back to the camp.

Gurmukh Singh, dont worry about me. Our leader, the Jathedar, has asked me to fetchsome important news from the village chief.

But you know the war for our independence is at its peak and theres trouble around

every corner. Look, Ive got an idea its safer for you to go back to the lake and rejointhe Khalsa Army and I will go in your place.

Why do you think its any safer for you to go, Gurmukh Singh?

It will be dark soon and I dont think its right for a woman to go anywhere alone. I am a

Khalsa warrior, I carry five weapons and I am prepared to die fighting. I want people to

remember me by telling stories about how brave I was.

Just then a bat came flying out of the dark trees directly towards Gurmukh Singh. He

didnt know what was attacking him and, screaming loudly, he covered his face with hishands!

Ranjit Kaur burst out laughing, Youre not so brave now little brother! You should

remember that I too have been blessed with the Gurus amrit-nectar. I too carry a long


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sword over my blue battledress and wear a warriors turban. God is always with me. Butyou my younger brother have much to learn about showing off and are probably at more

risk than me!

I insist on going with you sister.

Look brother you are wasting valuable time. Ill give you five seconds to turn aroundand run all the way home.

Gurmukh Singh stood defiantly looking Ranjit Kaur directly in the eye.

Im going to grab you by the ear, drag you home and after the Khalsa has finished their

evening prayers, Im going to tell them the story of the great Gurmukh Singh and the

black bat!

OK,OK Im going, but be careful.

Gurmukh Singh ran down the path towards the lake while Ranjit Kaur continued her

journey towards the village.

Gurmukh Singhs fears were not unfounded. Small bands of Mughal soldiers werewandering around the lake seeking information about the Sikhs. Every Sikh was aware of

this. However, it did not deter Ranjit Kaur. She fearlessly went on her way to the village.

She had absolute faith in God and her blessed sword. She reached the village chiefshouse. His mother and wife came out and hugged her, O Ranjit Kaur its so good to see

you again, God keeps you well.

It was getting late and they insisted that she spent the night with them. But before any

arrangements were made the Chief entered the room and handed over the scroll. Hisgrave expression brought total silence to the room. What she read spelled disaster for the

Khalsa. A large number of Ahmed Shah Abdalis troops were on their way to seize the

Kahnuwaan Lake and the scroll contained orders to the Chief to help the troops.

I must leave at once to warn the others. The Khalsa is at your service Chief you are a

brave man to have helped us.

Securing the scroll inside her pouch, she covered herself with her shawl and headed back

to the Kahnuwaan Lake. One of the women tried to make her stay saying, Its too late

for your Khalsa, just save yourself Ranjit dont go back. But to Ranjit Kaur, life wasnot worth anything without her Khalsa family.

By now it as midnight. The skies were clear and the moonlight lit up the earth. In thiscalm and still atmosphere, Ranjit Kaur reached the outskirts of the quiet village and

walked as fast as possible towards the lake. She had about three miles to cover. She

increased her pace and marched with determination through the sounds of howling


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animals. She quietly carried on repeating Gods Name, Waheguru, Waheguru in timeto her footsteps and felt protected.

Two Mughal soldiers with swords in their waistbands, rode past her left side.

The heavenly moonlight glowed from Ranjit Kaurs angelic face and intensified herbeauty. The horses suddenly pulled their horses across her path and quickly dismountingthey tried to grab her hands. She darted away with lightning speed and threatened them,

There will be trouble if you touch me!

She fearlessly looked at the soldiers and underneath her shawl she grabbed the handle ofher sword, just in case, Who are you soldiers and what do you want?

We are commanders of the royal forces young lady.

The what business do you have with me?

Without answering, the second soldier shouted, Who are you? And where are you

wandering to at this time of night?

Whoever I may be, you have no right to question me.

Saying this Ranjit Kaur tried to walk briskly past them. The first soldier quickly moved to

block her way once again, We have orders to find out where the Sikhs are hiding. Youlook like a Sikh so until you explain what you are doing we arent going to let you go

anywhere.

Thats right, I am a Sikh, what are you going to do about it?

Then consider yourself under arrest! said the first soldier.

He looked at the other one and loudly said, I think you better grab her and put her onyour horse, because I dont know what Ill do if I get too close to her.

Both looked at Ranjit Kaurs face and then looked at each other and started laughing.

Ranjit Kaur looked at them like a hungry lioness at a couple of sheep. Her eyes were redwith anger.

There was a brief silence before the first soldier calmly spoke again, Pretty lady, wehave been sent to find the Sikhs. However we are not animals. We are human. We too

have pumping hearts in our chest. What kind of heart would it be that does not worship a

beautiful angel like you.

Both men were intoxicated with Ranjit Kaurs beauty. A mere glimpse of her face had

injected lustful insanity into them. Ranjit Kaur stared at their faces but remained silent.The other soldier continued, What are you going to get from living on the run and hiding


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in the jungles with the Sikhs. Come with us. You can wear fine silk and live like a Queen.You can even choose which one of us you want to marry!

Ranjit Kaur silently stared at the soldiers. She had made her decision to continue or to diefighting. But her silence was misinterpreted. The first soldier lunged forward trying in

vain to grab her wrist, Come, sit on my horse. It is getting late my love.

Ranjit Kaur moved swiftly, taking two steps backward she drew her sword from under

her shawl. It flashed like lightning under the moonlight.

COME ANY CLOSER AND I WILL NOT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHATHAPPENS!

The soldiers burst out laughing.

An angel drawing a sword! Thats a first!

The other soldier added, Isnt she beautiful when shes angry?

The first soldier had never seen a woman protect her honor like a lioness, but she was still

only a woman. He tried to grab her with his outstretched arms. A flashing sword dazzledhim and he screamed in agony as his left hand dropped to the ground.

Having been bitten by the lioness both soldiers drew their swords and charged towardsher. Ranjit Kaur lunged forward at the first soldier again and cut off his sword hand. He

retreated squirming in pain. The other soldier was a skilled swordsman. His continuousattacks inflicted several wounds to Ranjit Kaur. Blood covered her whole face.

Exhaustion was setting in.

Suddenly, the strength of the Gurus amrit-nectar injected so much courage into her, that

she forgot all about her wounds and pains.

Yelling the battle cry, BOLAY SO NIHAL, SAT SREE AKAL, her sword moved with

such force that the soldiers head dropped to the ground and landed with a thud. His body

fell in a heap next to it.

Ranjit Kaur quickly looked around for the first soldier, but he had escaped without trace.

Totally exhausted she still managed to search the heaped body and found several papers

in the dead soldiers pockets. Seizing them, she mounted his horse and rode home to theKahnuwaan Lake.

As she approached the camp she mustered up every last ounce of energy and yelled,JATHEDAR! JATHEDAR!


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The Jathedar, several Khalsa, warriors and little Gurmukh Singh came running out tomeet her. Seeing her blood red face and exhausted condition they carried her inside. Little

Gurmukh Singh started crying.

Ranjit Kaurs sisters wiped her face and cleaned her wounds while she searched her

pouch and handed the papers over to the Jathedar. He was amazed to find full details ofthe Mughals battle plans.

Ranjit Kaur was honored greatly by the Khalsa, Gods kindness had given her the

courage to fight her attackers and to save her Khalsa family from a bloody massacre.

News of Ranjit Kaurs courage spread through out the Khalsa Panth the Sikh Nation.

She became known as the Brave Daughter of the Guru


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Tuesday Night:

The Village Of Children

Something about the village graveyard set it apart. During my travels I had seen literally

hundreds of graveyards. Usually graveyards are somber and somewhat resigned underthe weight of death. But this one was different: besides been well-kept - which in itself

was not unusual - it was designed more like a garden of life than a cradle of death.

What set it truly apart was the cheerfulness of its structure. Its' shady trees and sunny

flowers seductively invited me in. Graveyards were my favourite resting places. It

seemed that as soon as one exited a womb, Maya (worldy attractions) became a human's

sole companion until the gates of a graveyard. Perhaps it was the absence of Maya insuch places that kept my hopes of enlightenment alive.

I had left home when I had turned twenty. Although I didn't know it then, I had set out to

find a place free of illusions. I had travelled to majestic temples, sober ashrams, holyrivers, renowned sadhus and any other religious place I had been told about, yet my mind

was as restless as it was when I had first started. The holy places and the holy people atthese places were among the most devout followers of Maya. After more than twelve

years of searching, I had given up hope and had reluctantly decided to return home and

begin a worldly life. It was on my journey home that I came upon this unusual village

graveyard.

Although it was only mid-morning, I gave in to the cry of my aching muscles and

entered the graveyard through a small wooden door. I put down my knapsack and lookedat some of the tombstones. The tombstones entries always reminded me of my transitory

place on earth. But this graveyard was full of surprises. There were three entries on eachstone: name of the deceased person, the year of birth and instead of the usual 'death ofyear' the third entry was 'years of life'. Even more peculiar was that the 'years of life'

entries were usually well under twenty. Although it took me all morning, I visited each

and every tombstone; and to my utter astonishment, I could not find any 'years of life'over thirty. The most common entry was between ten and twelve. And there were quite a

few with zero years of life. I was a curious person by nature (otherwise I would not have

been here) and I had seen my share of amazing places. But this place truly mystified me.

I decided to look up this "village of children".

I walked about a mile to the village gate. I was surprised to see people of all ages in the

village courtyard. The villagers were extremely friendly. They came and not unlikechildren, touched and greeted me, and offered me all sorts of refreshments and foods. I

was quite overwhelmed by their attention and love. Almost all of the villager's manners

resembled the innocent nature of children. Even their faces were quite smooth andsomewhat glowed with purity.

There was a group of elders sitting around an old banyan tree. I decided to ask them

about this heavenly place. I approached the men. They greeted me warmly and at an


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appropriate time I asked: "Respected sirs, I have seen many places and many people. Buteven at the most holiest of these places I could not find the life and love that pervades this

place. Perhaps I am in a dream...", I trailed off. They all smiled. I hurriedly continued,

"I would very much like it if you would kindly explain this rather peculiar place. I wasalso very intrigued by the graveyard at the entrance of the village. Is it where you bury

your young ones?"

After a short pause, the most elderly man spoke: "Traveller, you look like a man who

would benefit much from the story I will tell you. Listen carefully and it will change your

life." All the men around sat attentively. All the villagers within earshot came and sat to

hear the old man speak.

He began, "My grandfather was the Kazi of this village. Each morning, well before

sunrise, he would call out to the people and to the heavens with his namaaz (muslim callto prayer). One such morning he was in midst of his prayer when he heard music from

the outskirts of the village. He was a devout muslim and was quite horrified to hear

music at such a holy hour. He immediately sent some of his followers to put an end tothis paganism. But to his surprise, none of them came back. The music meanwhile

continued. After a long wait he himself decided to put an end to this unholy activity. So,

quite angrily, he strode towards the music. But the closer he got, the more he realized

that it wasn't his anger that was responsible for his hurried strides, rather it was theexquisite beauty in the music. Finally when he got close enough to see the music makers,

not only did his body lose the ability to move, his mind too stopped the madman's dance

it had been doing since his birth. He literally stood rooted to a spot for the duration of therecital. The music cast a spell on him. He travelled inwards to subtle places he had read

about only in the scriptures. He would often look back at that moment and dreamilyacclaimed, "I drank life to the fullest during those hours".

There was a long pause during which the story teller and the story listeners let thestillness of the story enter the depths of their beings. The elderly man continued: "The

music makers were the great Guru Nanak and his companion Mardana jee. I am sure

you have heard of him." I meekly nodded and mumbled, "I have, but haven't had thegrace of meeting any of his followers".

"That is perhaps why, my friend, you are here," the man prophetically said. "At the end

of the recital, my grandfather and all the others present simply surrendered themselves tothe Guru. This was largely just a symbolic act because the moment each of them had

seen the Guru they had lost themselves to him. Guru Nanak graced this village for three

days and three nights. My grandfather named those days the "stillness days" because hesaid it was during those days that he and others learnt about the One found only within

the stillness of the mind. We observe those days like others observe their birthdays.

Indeed those days were the birthday of the village's inner life." He chuckled, "If you areimpressed with the village now, you should see the love of the villagers in those fine

days."


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"But, as is the nature of the human mind," the elder soberly continued, "it wasn't longafter Guru Nanak's departure that the village started returning to its normal numb and

dark existence. This greatly troubled my grandfather and others like him who become

Guru Nanak's and Guru Nanak's only. They tried very hard, through teaching andpreaching, to keep the message of the Guru alive. Finally, after all normal means failed

they came up with the following village tradition: Each villager keeps a diary. It ismandatory that each night before sleep, each person make an entry in the diary. Evenchildren and people who cannot read or write have to get this entry made. The entry is

simply the amount of time during the day that was spent in simran or in seva. At the end

of the person's life, the entries are accumulated and that, my dear traveller, is the 'years of

life' entry you see on the tombstones."

The story teller paused to let the magnitude of what he had told me to sink into me. He

continued, "It is perhaps that which allows us to be free with our love. We are remindedeach and every day what real life is. The time spent in simran or seva is the only life we

consider as been worthy of been called life."

I travelled and searched no more. This indeed was the illusion-less place I was seeking.

sriT mhlw 5 ]jnm jnm ky dUK invwrY sUkw mnu swDwrY ]Janam Janam Key Dookh Nivaarai Sookaa Man Sadhaarai

He dispels the pains of countless incarnations,and lends support to the dry and shrivelled mind.drsnu Bytq hoq inhwlw hir kw nwmu bIcwrY ]1]Darshan Beyttth Hoyt Nihaalaa Har Kaa Naam Beechaarai.1.

Beholding the Blessed Vision of His Darshan, one is enraptured,

contemplating the Name of the Lord. ||1||myrw bYdu gurU goivMdw ]Meyraa Baid Guroo Govind(n)daa.My physician is the Guru, the Lord of the Universe.hir hir nwmu AauKDu muiK dyvY kwtY jm kI PMDw ]1] rhwau ]Har Har Naam Aoukhdh Mukh Deyvai Kaattai Jam Kee Pha(n)dhaa.1.Rahaa-ou,He places the medicine of the Naam into my mouth,and cuts away the noose of Death. ||1||Pause||


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smrQ purK pUrn ibDwqy Awpy krxYhwrw ]Samrath Purakh Pooran Bidhaatey Aapai Karneyhaaraaa

He is the all-powerful, Perfect Lord, the Architect of Destiny;He Himself is the Doer of deeds.

Apnw dws hir Awip aubwirAw nwnk nwm ADwrw ]2]6]34]Aapnaa Daas Har Aap Oubaari-aa Naanak Naam Adhaaraa2.6.34The Lord Himself saves His slave; Nanak takes theSupport of the Naam. ||2||6||34||


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Wednesday Night:

Daughter of the GuruBy: Harjit Singh


Arent you afraid Deep Kaur?

Afraid of what Sunita?

Afraid your husband might not come back?

Deep Kaurs hands stopped packing the hot chapattis into the white cloth. She looked

over the bundle of firewood next to the clay oven she had been cooking at. Sunitas head

was peeping over the muddy-brown wall. She wore a grass green scarf, to match her

flowery patterned Punjabi suit. It was well worn, even torn in places.

Sunita you ask too many questions. Everything is in Wahegurus hands.

Yes, I know you Sikhs believe in accepting Gods will. But, as a woman you must

worry your husband may not return from battle. I mean when I get married to Ram Im

not going to let him out of my sight.

Sunita, I think you have talked enough for one day. Cant you see Im busy?

Why are you packing your food today? Are you going somewhere?

Deep Kaur ignored Sunita and finished tying a knot with the corners of the cloth to closethe bundle of food.

You are going somewhere! O tell me please! Where are you going?

Sunita, Ill only tell you if you promise to keep it a secret.

You can trust me.

Today, I am going to have the sacred vision of Guru Gobind Singh. I have been praying

for a long time for this moment. Last night I received a message from my husband in mydream. He said his group of Sikh soldiers will be passing this way on their journey to

Anandpur. I am going to go and meet my husband and meet the beloved Sikhs of my

Guru. I am going to serve them this food and then go with them to meet Guru GobindSingh. Sunita, today is a very, very happy day.


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O thats so exciting Deep Kaur. I wish I had a Guru. I wish I could come with you. Butyou know my parents wont even let me out of the house. Not after what happened to my

cousin.

What happened to her?

Yesterday, she had just gone to get a pot of water from the river, when my Uncle heardher screaming. He saw a Mughal soldier riding off with her on the back of his horse.

Thats terrible!

Then my Uncle chased them through the fields, some of the villagers heard him and they

managed to scare the horse. My cousin fell off and the Mughal rode away.

Is she OK?

She got away with a few cuts and bruises. But shes having nightmares about theMughals face. He had a huge scar from his lip to his ear and he kept trying to kiss her

with his yellow teeth and dog breath. Shes really worried that the Mughal will come

back with more soldiers to get revenge. You know what theyre like and they seem to

have hundreds of soldiers roaming this area nowadays.

Sunita, before I go, I want to give you something. You have to promise me youll keep it

with you at all times.

Deep Kaur went inside and returned with a folded piece of gold cloth. She handed it toSunita.

Go on, open it.

Sunita carefully unwrapped the cloth to find a beautiful curved piece of wood with a

handle coming out of it.

Thank you Deep Kaur, but I really cant take your knife.

Call it a kirpan Sunita, a knife is what you cut cucumbers with! This kirpan is a giftfrom Guru Gobind Singh. With this kirpan you can protect your honor and you can

defend your cousin.

O I cant take a kirpan Deep Kaur. Women arent supposed to carry things like that.

What would have happened to your cousin if your Uncle hadnt rescued her?

Sunitas eyes filled with tears.


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Dont you think it would have been better if your cousin had a kirpan at least shecould have defended herself?

Sunita took the kirpan and Deep Kaur showed her how to put it on.

Deep Kaur gave Sunita a quick lesson on how to use it. First, Deep Kaur would draw herown kirpan, then Sunita would copy pulling out hers.

One more thing Sunita, dont think Guru Gobind Singh is just for Sikhs. No, Guru

Gobind Singh is there for everyone. So if anything happens to you, just pray to Guru

Gobind Singh and he will help you. Thats what I do.

Deep Kaur stepped forward and hugged Sunita. You will always be my little sister, but

now I have to go. Practice using the kirpan and teach the other girls too. They have toprotect themselves.

Deep Kaur wrapped her shawl around a little tighter and strapped the bundle of food andclothes to her back. She walked proud and strong out of the village. She waited where her

husband had told to her to, by the biggest tree on the main road. Most of the day had

passed. It was gradually getting darker and she was wondering what had happened to the

Sikh soldiers.

As the sun set, she began reciting her evening prayer, Rehras Sahib, off by heart. On

completing it she felt refreshed and in tune with wonderful Waheguru. Then her heartleapt with joy.

In the distance, she saw the silhouettes of six soldiers on horses riding towards her. She

got up and ran forward to meet them.

As they approached she caught a glint of their green uniforms. GREEN uniforms! They

were not Sikhs. They were Mughals!

Deep Kaur darted off the road into the field and hid behind a tree. Her heart was

pounding like a drum. She heard the trotting horses going by and the loud voices of the

Mughals slowly faded as they passed by. One of the soldiers stopped and shouted to the

others he had to go to the toilet. He got off his horse and headed towards the trees. Theother soldiers carried on riding forward. Deep Kaur held her breath. She could not run as

she would give herself away. The Mughal approached her tree and she saw his face he

had a scar from his lip to his ear. He was the same soldier who tried to kidnap Sunitascousin.

Deep Kaurs blood started boiling at what he had done. She decided to teach him alesson. When he took off his sword and squatted down she was going to leap out and

severely beat him. She calmed herself down saying Waheguru, Waheguru under her

breath. Standing up with her back pressed against the tree trunk, she waited for him to


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settle down. Suddenly an arm came swinging around from the side of the tree. Deep Kaurtried to shout, but a hand was pinning her throat against the tree trunk.

Next, she saw Scarfaces yellow teeth lunging at her. She tried to kick back, but it wastoo late; his full body weight was pressing down on her. With one hand she tried to push

back his face, while the other hand pulled out her kirpan. She couldnt move her arm toswing the kirpan and now started feeling dizzy. Everything was going black. As she triedto give him one last push, they both tumbled to the ground. He landed on top of her and

let out a grunt. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth, and his body went limp.

Deep Kaur pushed him off and looked at her kirpan it was sticking out of his chest. He

had fallen on it.

The sun had set. It was almost pitch black. She heard the other Mughal soldiers calling

out for Scarface, Khan! Khan! Where are you?

Deep Kaur pulled out her kirpan and cleaned off the blood. She scrambled through the

bushes back to the road. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of more horsesheading down the road. Behind her, she could hear the soldiers searching. Where could

she go? One of the soldiers spotted her and all five came scrambling up the roadside

verge. Deep Kaur looked death in the face and charged at them with her kirpan. In her

mind, she remembered Guru Gobind Singhs words, may I die fighting

From behind her she heard the Sikh battle cry Bolay So Nihal Sat Sree Akal! It gave

her a new burst of life. She looked back and the Sikh soldiers had arrived waving theflag, wearing the blue uniform and tall turban. She looked forward and the Mughals had

mounted their horses and raced away. Bibi Deep Kaur fell to the ground totallyexhausted.

When she woke up, her husband was giving her sips of water. He greeted her and told herthey had brought her to the city of the Guru, Anandpur.

From behind him, a beautiful voice was heard asking, Where is she? Her husbandstepped aside and the handsome warrior Guru Gobind Singh stepped forward.

His radiant face showered love and blessings on Deep Kaur. She humbly looked down at

her Gurus feet. She tried to speak, but her throat was too sore. Guru Gobind Singhsmiled, This is my Daughter. My brave daughter! With warriors like you, the Khalsa

will remain in high spirits.

I am honored

because of the Khalsa

The Khalsa is

My brave friend

- Guru Gobind Singh


17/23

Thursday Night:

The Flowers of Guru Jee

It had been 3 days, long hot summer days. Sukh Nidhaan Singh was close to dying, as he

lay there in a wooden cage on a cart drawn by two horses.

He had been captured by the mughal forces near the jungles of Afghan. He hadn't slept oreaten properly for days so he was weak when he was pounced upon by the mughalsoldiers. He had put up a good fight and even killed a few of them, but he was injured

and he was overpowered and captured. The mughal soldiers had tied him upside down

from a tree and beaten him severely. The mughal Soldiers thought that instead of killing

him they would take him to their Nawaab, he would be pleased with the fine specimen ofSikh warrior they had caught. They thought it would be a good challenge to try and

convert this Kafir.

It had been 5 months of traveling since Sukh Nidhaan had seen another Sikh. The lasttime was 5 months ago he met a Sikh messenger traveling to take news to Baba Deep

Singh Ji. When he met the gursikh he fell to the floor and cried at the gursikhs feet. Thegursikh embraced him and comforted him. The gursikh had to leave immediately as his

message was of great urgency. Sukh Nidhaan Singh told him that he was traveling

towards Amritsar to meet his brothers once again. They both said there Fateh! and

departed. And that was five months ago... And how he longed to be with his family ofSikhs once again.

He remembered the times when he was together with his band of fellow Sikh Warriors.They were a band of Sikh warriors who had been given the duty to uproot certain mughal

bases And strongholds to damage the great mughal force. They were given the task ofalso rescuing any kidnapped women taken as slaves by the Mughals And returning themto their villages. He was now the last of his Jatha And now, even he had been caught And

was being taken to the Nawaab of this District.

He lay in the small cage barely big enough to sit in And he was dyeing slowly. The

energy had been sucked from him by The beatings And The immense sun. Suddenly he

was awoken as water splashed onto his face. A mughal Soldier on horseback trotting

alongside The carriage laughed And drank some water form his pouch And spat at SukhNidhaan Singh once again.

"Not long to go now.... you DOG!" The mughal laughed again at Sukh Nidhaan Singh.

Another mughal ahead shouted "We're almost there I can see The tower from here"

Two other mughal soldiers pulled up alongside The moving carriage on horseback from

behind And They mocked Sukh Nidhaan Singh;

"HaHa! you'd better be ready, soon, you will have The honour of becoming one of US!


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And not a dog like your kind"

Sukh Nidhaan Singh stared at The soldier fiercely, And as he struggled "Never...ever.. I

will die... first"

The Mughals continued to mock him...

"Yes we've caught many of your kind, And most of them chose The wealth And The

riches. After a few beatings They always come round to OUR way of thinking"

"Yes! even last month there was that big one, one of your Sikhs, he was beaten in publicAnd After he was begging to be accepted by us."

"Yes countless Sikh have changed, And They now live in luxury with good homes Andwomen, a big reward awaits you if you make The right decision.

Sukh Nidhaan Singh was hurt at The thought of his Sikh brothers giving up Andbetraying their Guru And The Khalsa. It seriously damaged his esteem And he started to

wonder.. If he had The strength to keep his love for Gurujee until death... if so many had

given up.. Then what would become of him.. Who was he? was he any different....He

pondered on his situation And The anxiety he felt deeply as he heard The Mughalslaughing And telling stories of how many Sikhs had been converted And now served The

mughal empire.

As he looked into The distance along The long rough road, he saw fields And field of

flowers in The distance, he wondered what place this was. His eyes were to weak Anddamaged to see properly. But he could make out The many fields stretching into The vast

horizon. He lay back in The cage And wondered about His Sikh brothers And what

would become of him And He made a plea to Satguru...

"Oh Guru! teacher of truth. Great warrior from The heavens.. I know now that my end is

near. Please Gurujee, PLEASE! Bless me with The courage to uphold justice Anddharam to The end. May I Die but never let go of your hand. You are my mighty

guardian And now Satguru I ask of you, please bless me with The strength And valour to

persevere to The end And die a noble death but never give up my beloved Sikhi And the

hair on my head. And Satgurujee Dyaal! Please bless me with The darshan of Gursikhsonce again, my eyes are thirsting for The vision of my beloved Khalsa warriors, my

family The Khalsa"

And at that He lay back lifeless in His cage. With Gods name on His Mind... He repeated

again And again... Vaaahegrooohhh.... vaaaahegroohhh... Vaaahegroohh.....

vaaahegroohhh...."

...A few minutes And He lost himself in meditation.

Suddenly!! The cart jolted And Sukh Nidhaan Singh Ji was awoken from His lazy


19/23

meditation. He looked out into The fields And saw The Flowers. He couldn't believe Hiseyes... He sat upright and He looked in amazement!He could not contain the emotion

And The tears started to pour from His eyes.... every single pore on His body stood to

attention...and He felt them shiver..... through His soul....

THE FLOWERS.. He had seen were not flowers... but They were fields And fields ofSpears stuck into The ground....and on each spear He saw The head of a Khalsa warrior.Some scalped, some beaten, some without The eyes, some burnt, some boiled.. And some

He recognized.... alas. He had The darshan of The Khalsa once again.. And The sight was

too beautiful.... there ware fields And fields of Gursikhs heads on spears as far as He

could see into The distance... The tears He could not contain....

The Mughals thought that this site would break Sukh Nidhaan Singh down... but Sukh

Nidhaan Singh sat upright in the cage with a firm look of strength and nobility on Hisface... He thought He should show a brave face to His Sikh brothers.... The emotion

powerful... He felt His spirits rise to The skies.. His strength came back.

He was so proud of these great warriors, His brothers The, KHALSA, They had dies but

not given up their Love for Sikhi, truth and justice. They had not wavered in The face of

torture... And had kept their faith till The end.

This gave him strength And courage And He thought to himself. "I was a fool to even

doubt for a second, that my true Khalsa would give up And lose. They fought till The end

And maintained there principles." He smiled And wiped away The tears And out of joyHe let out The war cry of The Khalsa, to pay homage to The great martyrs.

"SAT SREEEE AKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLL!!!!!!!"

GUR BAR AKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!

DEGH TEGH FATEH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sukh Nidhaan Singh over The few coming days was offered many pleasures And riches

And He was also tortured And beaten terribly. But at every moment He remembered Theflowers in the fields... IT gave him Strength.

He was tortured severely And on The third day when The Mughals had given up , They

left him to die a painful slow death as They tied him to a tree And left him to die in Thesunlight overlooking The fields.

Bruised, battered And barely alive, Sukh Nidhaan Singh lifted His head And again Hesaw The fields. He smiled and welcomed death. The pain was immense but He knew that

it was worth it, as He had beaten the Mughals They could kill him But They could not

take away His faith.

As hours went by Sukh Nidhaan Singh continued to meditate on The lords name. He

looked out into the fields to His Khalsa one last time...and He saw in The distance afigure walking through fields. He saw that it was a Khalsa Warrior in blue dress decked


20/23

with weapons. As the figure slowly came closer He saw that The warrior wasapproaching each spear And kissing The forehead of each shaheed. As He came closer

Sukh Nidhaan Singh Ji saw from a distance that it was Guru Gobind Singh Ji himself.

He remembered that The Sikhs were like flowers And when They reached their most

beautiful form, Gurujee would come to pick The flowers As shaheeds - martyrs.

As He lost consciousness His head fell As He no longer had The strength to hold it up..

And He wondered was it a dream? Was it real?

And then As slowly faded away He felt a hand on His face, And he felt a beard on hisnose, and then he felt a KISS on his forehead, And he knew Gurujee had come. The tears

flowed from His eyes As He felt The embrace of The Guru.

He had never thought that He would one day become

....one of Gurujee's beautiful flowers.....

And He would come to take me HOME!

jau qau pm Kylx kw cwau ]Jou Tou Preym Kheylan Kaa Chaa-ouIf you desire to play this game of love with Me,

isr Dir qlI glI mrI Awau ]Sir Dhar Talee Galee Meyree Aa-outhen step onto My Path with your head in hand.

iequ mwrig pr DrIjY ]It Maarag Pair DhareejaiWhen you place your feet on this Path,

isr dIj kwix n kIj ]20]Sir Deejai Kaana Na Keejai.20.give Me your head, and do not pay any attention to public opinion. ||20||


21/23

Friday Night:

Heroic NurseBy: Harjit Singh


The green hills were soaked in blood. The powerful Afghan Army defended the hill top

against a small troop of fearless Akali soldiers. The Afghan Army heavily outnumberedthe Akalis the bravest battalion of the Khalsa Army. But, these warrior lions of GuruGobind Singh did not lose faith. They were united, like the waves in the ocean, by their

deep blue battledress and turbans. They fought against the odds and faced the rain of

enemy bullets, stones and arrows. Hacking their way through treacherous terrain, they

hammered their way up the hill.

Time was running out for the Akalis. Maharaja Ranjit Singh had not arrived with

reinforcements. The Afghans had won the support of thousands of local Muslims by

distributing pamphlets that declared this battle as a holy war against Islam. The Akalisbelonged to Akal, the Immortal God, and with Akal on their side who should they be

afraid of? Being outnumbered did not scare them. Guru Gobind Singh had transformedthem with his amrit the initiation nectar prepared in the indestructible iron bowl and

stirred by the most awesome of weapons the double-edged Khanda sword.

The words of their Guru father rang in their ears, I will make one fight against 125,000,then and only then can I be called Gobind Singh! The Akalis belonged to Akal, they

fought for their Gurus honor and their only hope in life was to die fighting courageously

on the battlefield.

The future of the Sikh Kingdom, the Khalsa Raj, depended on this battle. The Akalismarched forward led by the courageous warrior Akali Phoola Singh. The sun reflectedlike bolts of lightning from the sharp blades going around his mountain peaked turban.

Raising his sword his thundering voice gave power to the battle cry, BOLEH SO

NIHAL. Every single Khalsa lion roared the response, SAT SREE AKAL.The Akalis spirits rose, new life was injected into them with each battle cry. They faced

the Afghans with rejuvenated spirits, just seeing the fire in Akali Phoola Singhs eyes

was enough to send the Afghans running in all directions. Advancing into an almost

deserted battlefield the Akalis had captured the hill top.

But then, from out of nowhere, bullets and arrows started raining down on the Akalis, the

Afghans had hidden in hill caves and now charged out. Surrounding the Akalis theybombarded them with bullets and arrows. Akali Phoola Singh took a bullet in the chest

and the mighty lion fell. The great warrior Karnail Singh Bania also fell wounded by

another bullet. The Akalis wanted to die fighting, but seeing their leaders seriouscondition they decided it was wiser to retreat. They Afghans chased them down to the

foothills.


22/23

The wounded were carried for about a mile, they marched past their ammunition depotand reached the camp hospital. A few young Khalsa women busily nursed the wounded

lions. Looking towards the hill they saw the enemy forces charging down like an

avalanche. The Khalsa nurses, along with the remaining Akali warriors, gathered theirwounded and once again retreated to a safer location.

The Afghans were exhilarated by the fact that victory was almost in their ruthless hands.They marched triumphantly towards the deserted Akali camp. Reaching the undefended

depot they desperately needed to find a mountain load of ammunition. Most of their army

did not have rifles and without them they knew they stood no chance against the Khalsa

Army reinforcements that were rapidly riding to the battle scene. On finding thousands ofrifles, their joy had no bounds and the skies reverberated with their war cries.

Each soldier eagerly seized a weapon, but their hearts sunk down to the lowest depths ofhell when they realized there were no bullets. Searching frantically, they ripped apart

every storage tent and overturned every stack of crates. Like thirsty men in the desert

they ran in all directions looking for even a tiny clue as to where the metal messengers ofdeath could be. Finally, they located crated after crate full to the brim with the finest

bullets stuffed full of gunpowder. Once again their joy had no bounds and the valleys

echoed with their cheers.

Surrounded by a sea of ammunition the Afghan Army danced like drunken men waving

their new found guns in the air. Without warning, an incredible explosion suddenly

shocked the sky and shook the mountains. Flames shot up hundreds of feet into the sky,like an erupting volcano spewing out its insides with all the force and fury of then

thousand angry gods. Bodies went flying in all directions like fragile rag dolls. Within ablink of an eye, the Afghanss dancing heaven had turned them into black logs of

charcoal feeding the flames of hell on earth.

By now, the Lion Of Punjab Shera Punjab, Maharaja Ranjit Singh, had crossed the

Attock river. He appeared on the horizon like the light of the rising sun after a dark and

stormy night. The rays of hope reached out in all directions in the form of Khalsa warriorafter Khalsa warrior. Whether riding on horseback or marching on foot, each battalion

was led by the flag bearers waving the Khalsa flags high in the sky.

They whispered Waheguru, Waheguru with each breath, their secret power given tothem when they were blessed with Amrit.

General Hari Singh Naluwa commanded them and they rode like the wind. The Khalsaattacked the remaining Afghans with so much power that they ran for their lives like

headless chickens. The Khalsa claimed complete control of the battlefield. The skies

echoed with the battle cry BOLEH SO NIHAL. Every single Khalsa Lion roared theresponse SAT SREE AKAL.

Maharaja Ranjit Singh and General Hari Singh Naluwa looked around at the site of deathand destruction, smoke was still emanating from burning crates and bodies. The Akalis


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told Maharaja Ranjit Singh that by some miracle Guru Gobind Singh himself had causedthe explosion. They all knew that they would have suffered a total wipe out against a

fanatical Afghan Army on a religious war, armed to the teeth with guns and bullets.

As they wandered around what used to be the camp, Maharaja Ranjit Singh noticed

something. Quickly dashing to the outskirts he kneeled down. The others followed himand they congregated around the dead body of a young Khalsa woman. She was lyingface down on the ground less than fifty feet from the depot and away from the bodies of

the Afghans. In her hand, she was tightly clutching a fire torch!

It was the head nurse, Bibi Prem Kaur. This brave lioness, this daughter in spirit of GuruGobind Singh had given up her life to save the Khalsa Army from a humiliating defeat.

While the other nurses retreated with the wounded Akalis, she had secretly gone to the

depot and hidden near the bullet storage. Lighting the ammunition, the blast had blownher body away from the dead Afghans, as if to protect her innocence and honor her

sacrifice.

This scene deeply moved Maharaja Ranjit Singh and his eyes were filling with tears.

Addressing her as his daughter, he gently raised her head onto his lap and tenderly wiped

her face with his handkerchief.

The Khalsa warriors witnessed these scenes with tears rolling down their cheeks. Bibi

Prem Kaur had sacrificed her own life so that her brothers would be saved. At her funeral

the Khalsa Army band played on and the cannons fired in a continuous salute. MaharajaRanjit Singh and other officers carried her coffin in a royal procession. Every Khalsa

warrior felt Bibi Prem Kaurs eternal love for Guru Gobind Singh wash over them. Withtheir heads bowed low, they said great, truly great is our father Guru Gobind Singh Jee.

The amrit-nectar that Guru Gobind Singh had used to transform the sparrows into hawks,jackals into lions, cowards into Khalsa, had now enabled Bibi Prem Kaur to make the

ultimate selfless sacrifice. The Khalsa would never forget her. By the Gurus kindness

she had single-handedly overturned a sure defeat for the Khalsa into an overwhelmingvictory.

Documents

Gurmat Stories - 2010