Gurunaam

To call it a sabbatical would be incorrect. A muted retirement would probably be more appropriate a phrase, a flaccid exit even more apt. But after returning from India i have ceased to write anything on my blog. I guess writing about India from the comforts of my Sydney home doesn’t mimic the feel i was attempting to replicate, but there was one post left in me which i had been avoiding, rationalising my laziness to write under the very human trait of vanity. I firmly believe writing from a place inspired by ego can only lead to trouble and can very easily infect the quality of what one is attempting to communicate. I say this because believe it or not this blog is rather popular and the little ticks of my blog odometer can very easily be interpreted as small massages to my rather large ego. So i will try and avoid the pitfalls, briskly side stepping any opportunities to exercise my more narcissistic tendencies (of which i am constantly reminded i have many) and will write what will probably be my last post on the subcontinent. But for that i will have to travel back in time and bait my memory to get off the couch and jump on the treadmill, something only Brotha Gin Seng can do, so excuse me as i rendezvous with my kettle, the paragraph under this will be written approximately 20 minutes from now.

Wait…..give me another 20.

My journalistic ability extends about as far as 2 hours of news and current affairs per week. Not an awful lot admittedly, but when i went to meet young Gurunaam i was primed with an objective, a single minded focus and the unhindered will of Thor to find answers to something i thought was particularly interesting. A rather simple question that i thought i would be able to extract with relative ease….. candy from a baby. But as our conversation progressed i could see my ego changing shade to an unhealthy purple, and my bruising became more and more apparent to myself- I have the journalistic prowess of a cactus, and i assure you it will show.

So let’s set the scene shall we? It’s the morning of my last day in Amritsar. Already profoundly smitten by all that i have witnessed at Harmandir Sahib, i have managed to score a bit of a meeting with Gurunaam, a Sikh from New Mexico in the USA. It was a meeting arranged haphazardly the night before, after dinner at the local dhaba, intoxicated by lassi, ghee and a parantha or three i asked young Gurunaam if it was ok to have a chat the next morning, just a nice way to end my time here in Amritsar i rationalised. My real reason for the chat was more covert, i wanted to know what would make an average American Joe a non-birth Sikh convert to Sikhism and follow a religion that some would say seems so extremist in appearance. How does one decide that from this day forth they will never cut their hair again, that they would always wear a turban whenever in public and that they would henceforth profess their allegiance to a religion stemming from a culture so separate from their own? These questions riddled my mind as i tried to place myself in the same situation. Is my dedication to an ideal so intense that i would change my life so drastically? Even with my cultural upbringing, that of a Hindu Pakistani who’s grown up exclusively in the west, a jump to Sikhism would not be considered a vast chasm to cross due to the cultural similarities we share, this coupled with my own rather unique genealogy would some say make me an ideal candidate for the jump. But even then it seems like something i could not do, so i must profess admiration for one who does, and does so with a very genuine commitment to his cause.

Gurunaam was there early, the local dhaba we had chosen to meet at had not opened as yet, so very briskly he directed us towards another dhaba further away that he had assured us made the best Kulcha’s in all Amritsar. As we sat ourselves down and ordered, i readied my mental quill to probe the young Sikh as to how and when his decision was made. It was obvious Gurunaam had been asked this question several times before and he answered very politely, stating that after years of being a disciple of Yogi Bhajan (a prominent spiritual scholar in the United States) he found himself employing many of the practices of a Sikh spiritual aspirant, the only natural step was to make it more official with the adoption of the more prominent Sikh ordinances. The depth of my journalistic skill started and stopped at that very instance, Gurunaam began to speak to us about all things spiritual and the conversation became far more intriguing than any hidden agenda i may have had up my kurta sleeve. It was an enlightening hour or so, and what impressed me most was how dedicated this young man was, who in his early thirties (and after more than 10 years of being Sikh) had decided to make his first pilgrimage to Amritsar where he would spend a year learning from the local scholars not only the intricacies of his religion but also learning how to speak Punjabi, the language of Sikhism and the region. Gurunaam spoke of the community of Sikhs that lived in New Mexico where most of the Sikhs there were of non Indian ancestry, he spoke of his father’s reaction to his wanting to move into the ashram (funnily enough his father warned him to “not become like one of those Sikhs down there”), his work in a company that produces spiritual texts, and his budding career as a writer and performer of spiritual music.

As our conversation clopped along my curiosity was piqued by the more aesthetic components of Sikhism and how readily Gurunaam was able to adopt them from his previous life as a non-Sikh. This brought on an even more interesting conversation as to the science of the infamous “five K’s” or “panj kakaar” as they are known. Namely Kesh (uncut hair and beard), Kanga (wooden comb for hygiene), Kara (iron bracelet), Kachera (specially designed under garments) and Kirpan (a strapped sword). Apart from the symbolic meanings of all 5 which can be found anywhere, Gurunaam spoke of the science of these practices, stating that the purpose behind Kesh and Kara amongst others was to galvanise the aspirant along the path they had chosen. It was an interesting topic of discussion that brought up such conclusions as the power of iron to electro magnetise ones aura, and the ability of hair to almost act as psychic antennae (following the principle of hairs standing on end when one is frightened). Again something that one doesn’t usually hear! Gurunaam also spoke of the more human things he has had to encounter, dealing with the advances of Sikh girls that find the novelty of a ginger bearded Sikh too hard to resist, dealing with beggars that target him due to his Caucasian features and how he struggles everyday to dip in the icy cold waters surrounding the temple (he’s currently committed to more than 20 dips every morning). But the clincher for me really was the manner in which he was able to see beyond even the paradigms of the religion he had chosen, stating the conflicts people highlight in his practising of yoga alongside his traditional Sikh practices as unfair. The reason for this being that yoga can be seen as the behaviour of more extremist elements of Hindu asceticism something frowned upon by the Sikh movement as it encourages the “middle path” or a more moderate means of spirituality. Even more open minded than this was Gurunaams desire to visit ashrams of other Gurus and to absorb as much as he could in his time in India. This dedication to learning and practising was one i had seldom seen, and for someone like myself who has been lucky enough to be raised in a rather spiritual environment it was refreshing to see someone practising all the theory i had rote learnt as a child, and making with it a living monument to wisdom. Gurunaam was and is a testament to the wide eyed curiosity and purity that should go hand in hand with spiritual practise, at no stage did his enthusiasm for the topic of spirituality wane. This was his life and he had committed to it with the purity required.

And it is here where i fused with an atom of revelation, my questions, my agenda with Gurunaam was pointless, as he didn’t see himself the way i had seen him. By politely not answering my rather ignorant questions i was able to see Gurunaam for more than he really was, not just a ginger bearded Sikh from America who had converted, but as a man walking the path very few do, the path inwards that will lead to a knowledge of self that not many have the privilege of knowing or understanding, and that is bigger and more worthwhile discussing than race, caste, creed or cultural transition. I know now i was in the presence of a wise man indeed, and it is with that gratitude that  i must thank Gurunaam whose friendship opened up windows of understanding in my rather small mind, and allowed me to leave Amritsar with an understanding of the importance of a higher ideal. Good luck on your journey my friend, and if the Guru wills it hopefully we may meet again one day.

-n-

Amritsar….

Sunrise on the Golden Temple (Harmandir Sahib)

I know i whinge an awful lot on this blog, and im sure of the 60 or so people that read this thing ( i have the stats) most of you have rolled your eyes already and are about to switch over to something more interesting, but before you do that let me assure you this entry will not be in that mould at all. It is after all many many years since i’ve been able to cross something off of my “things to do before i die” list, and thankfully i have done exactly that with my recent trip to Amritsar.

For those of you that aren’t aware i have decided to return to Sydney early. There is far too much risk associated with me travelling solo due to my passport details, so im waiting out my last week or so in Mumbai shopping and indulging every gastronomic fantasy i have (next week is rasgulla night, which will be followed by paneer tikka masala night, which will be followed by paneer tikka biryani night). I remember in my last post ending with a sentence that stated i should make the most out of this “nothingness” that i was experiencing, and i guess i did just that when i booked my cousin and myself in to fly to Amritsar for a day or two.

Probably one of the most important things for me to see during this trip was the Golden Temple (or to be precise Harmandir Sahib). I know there is an awful lot to see in India and im sure i will eventually get to see it but this place has always held a special place in my heart and being able to see it, being able even on some level to “feel” it is a memory i will cherish till i breathe my last. I have honestly vowed to visit Amritsar every single time i am in India from this day forth, without a doubt there is a magic there that i am definitely not capable of surmising in words, but that won’t stop me from trying.

We began our journey to Amritsar as guests of Dr Malliya, a quick stop over in Delhi (which was also quite special for me, an entry i will save for later) and we were catching a small, cramped, rickety flight into Amritsar airport. The landing was a borderline calamity and our disgruntled pilot swerved the plane around as if it were his “Baap’s” (a reference that will probably make more sense in Hindi, but Baap refers to father, and Pilot Jose was driving the plane like a spoilt teenager would his fathers Benz). Before i knew it we were in a taxi and on our way to Amritsar City to find a hotel and take our first glimpse of the Temple, i must admit the excitement to see something that only days ago felt like an impossibility was boiling over and after dropping my luggage off and taking a quick shower i was knocking on my cousins door and asking him to accompany me, it was his third trip so my excitement was lost on him but luckily he obliged and we were on our way.

We reached the main entrance to the temple and upon seeing the entrance i was rather disappointed. I had immeasurably high expectations of what i was going to see, and a feeling of dread over came me as i believed at that point anyway that the temple wouldn’t be as beautiful as i had imagined. For some reason i was expecting grandeur from the get go and thought i was in for plummeting disappointment yet again, but as i scarfed my hair washed my feet and raised my head to look through the entrance, i was amazed at just how beautiful the Golden Temple was. We had reached during the afternoon so the domes of the mandir (temple) were catching and reflecting the sunlight, creating an unalloyed gold sheen that was beautifully reflected in the sky blue pond of water (or “Amrit Sarovar” from which the city gets its name) surrounding it. It was perfection, and i don’t mince my words for a second. I would be a fool to say i was not overcome with emotion, a mish mash of awe, reverence, gratitude, and pure joy had entered me, “The Word Sublime” was manifest infront of my very eyes and i ran down the stairs of the entrance and prostrated in complete reverence, my forehead placed on the cold marble for longer than most as i spoke a few silent words to myself. I was in Amritsar, i was seeing the Golden Temple, i was blessed, i knew it, and it was then that i knew this trip no longer was the disaster i had spoken of previously. A definite balance had been brought into the cosmic calamity that was my Indian odyssey, and all the bitterness and resentment of the last few weeks simply melted away, i was at peace with India, and was convinced she no longer hated me.

Lining up to enter the Temple

We began our journey around the Sarovar circling the actual mandir (temple), my cousin a Sikh himself explaining to me the significance of all that we encountered, it was a learning experience even though i had grown up with many Sikhs as a child, and a Gurudwara (Sikh temple) is by no means an alien place to me, I have always for some strange reason felt more at home there than i have a temple. My respect for Sikhism and Sufism for that matter too has been with me since i was eleven and luckily enough for me it was something encouraged by my rather spiritual and open minded parents. I don’t say this in an attempt to paint myself as a spiritual person, Lord knows i am borderline agnostic at times, and that my bitterness with certain established movements that have played a large part in my upbringing have in recent times left me questioning even that. But i can’t deny a belief in the universality of all religions, in a belief of inherent human divinity and in the equality of all in front of a higher power whatever he or she maybe. So when we made the final turn of the Sarovar and entered the line that would lead me to the inner sanctum of the Golden Temple where the Guru Granth (original Sikh holy book) is kept, i felt for the first time in my life a communal oneness with those around me, a single communal focus of reverence, and a congregation so egalitarian that i knew for the first time what true equality is. Amritsar at that point became the culmination of 22 years of spiritual theory that had previously failed to experience true egalitarianism anywhere. For all the theory that had been taught to me i have been unable to digest aristocracy as a side effect of institutionalised spiritual thought. This has never been the fault of those embodying the oneness, to blame are those who in their stupor have mangled instruction to suit their own needs and sadly many of us have quietly accepted it. Perhaps i am too Marxist in my views that i cannot accept hierarchy within the allegedly spiritual, but within Amritsar i felt we were all “red” spiritually at least to some degree, and the disappointment i had felt with a recent pilgrimage to a separate place of worship, mixed with what i believed to be the failure of my trip to India, then spontaneously deciding to go to Amritsar, seeing the Granth, bowing my head in reverence, drinking of the Amrit (the water of the sarovar) and exiting the abode was a mandala of action that when viewed from atop had come full circle and created an experience that has now renewed me and for that i will always love Amritsar. It has filled me with a hope, that had gone brittle, and renewed an idealism that had soured long long ago.

I must confess this post hadn’t gone the way i intended, the plan was to surmise the actual trip and go into its intricate details, breaking down my daily visits to Harmandir Sahib bit by bit, describing the happenings from the western eye, David Attenborough wild life documentary-esque, but i failed. Whilst typing, the images i had described earlier came rushing back, and i couldn’t help but translate what i felt. The finer details of the temple, its historical and political significance are important details that deserve mention, but they can be found elsewhere by someone who is an authority on the issue, i can only write about what i felt, that is the only authority i have and with that i am comfortable, my apologies to those that may have wanted something more informative in design, the post did start out that way and i may have laid the bait for it, but i came to the conclusion midway through the piece that i would be more myself if i wrote what i felt, and what i felt at Amritsar for the entire day and a half i was there was something special, to me anyway. Wether i will take this learning with me from this day forth will be a test of character, one that i can’t say with confidence i will succeed at, but for now i will do what i did at 5am on Thursday morning as i sat just outside the inner sanctum of the temple, listening to the kirtans (devotional hymns) that were being sung as the Granth was revered immediately opposite me, cracklings of the rising sun spiriting the sky… basking simply basking in the magic of one of the few places in the world that holds out on its promise of divine egalitarianism, then closing my eyes and feeling it, my idealism renewed.

-n-