The Lion walks alone! - A Passionate Idiot's story Part - 3

How an angry young man labelled as an enthusiastic fool by most, turned the
tables and bought himself 'near salvation'! The story of Jasbir Singh Sahni, 
who today is a pillar of Sewa for The Kalgidhar Trust, Baru Sahib. 

1981-1983

A young Jasbir blossomed into a teenage, with dynamic, non-worldly and sometimes maverick thoughts on how to help others to alleviate their pain. The angry young man’s exterior was cushioned with sharing the pain, anguish of others and being sensitive to the needy. This compassionate aspect of his personality generally landed him in many unsavoury situations just because people around him never saw the reason of him trying to help a downtrodden or even somebody who was passing through bad times. Plodding on gradually with his own learning of every aspect of life seen through the words of wisdom of Guru Granth Sahib ji, Jasbir started spending more and more time in the company of the Spiritual Compilations of the Gurus which lead him to he started realizing the third dimension in most day to day affairs. Most of the time he was absorbed in self-contemplation in search of inner peace, trying to find the ‘purpose’ in life. 

In the back of his mind he kept on searching for that elusive proverbial divine rainbow. The question hankering his mind looped in and out while he tried to share this with many, to seek his answers, but was mostly laughed away as being whimsical.

With that purpose to search, he was always attracted to Saints and so-called learned people to find a simple reason for his life. Some told him that he would enjoy the highest of wealth; some of them said that he would have a long life but a few of them never talked about these things. One fine day while cycling to his father’s shop, he overheard a neighbor ‘Duggal Uncle’, talking about the visit of some Baba ji from Baru Sahib. Curious as usual, Jasbir decided to switch his day’s errands and move on to an audience with the holy man.

A baffling sight awaited him there, when he saw an bespectacled elder dressed in achkan (a buttoned Indian dress with a high band collar) with a white turban and equally white beard. There was an ‘out of the ordinary’ peace radiating on his face but he looked more like a well educated senior officer rather than a Baba as he was being addressed. Jasbir’s thoughts got more compounded when he heard the old man speak. With a deep throat baritone voice, Baba Iqbal Singh was discussing excitedly about developing a unique project on the land of Baru sahib, Himachal Pradesh, that his own spiritual guide and teacher Sant Teja Singh, (MA Llb, A.M. Harvard) had founded in 1956. Jasbir sat with rapt attention and heard out Baba Iqbal Singh narrating his own experiences as a youth and the inspiration that Sant Teja Singh had instilled within him when he had first met him at Khalsa College, Amritsar in his student days.

The saintly person’s face reflected divine radiance with his eyes brimming with energy, boring through furrowed white brows. The youngster was amazed to know that Babaji was working as Director Agriculture in Himachal Pradesh Government, a highly respected post and he was celebate after a decision that he took when he was only 14, much younger than Jasbir was during that time.

With both hands cupping his face, Jasbir hunched with his elbows on his knees listening to Babaji; “Life is worthless without a purpose” he heard Babaji say and a strange feeling arose in him since this exactly was the question that was hankering him. The next words shook him thoroughly; Babaji was gazing lovingly at him and asked “What is your aim in life young man?” Jasbir could hardly mumble anything before Babaji continued “Life is meant for a purpose. And without sacrifices no purpose can be achieved”. Leaving the young man saddled with lot of thoughts, Babaji left for Himachal in a few moments.

Tossing and turning around on his bed that night, the words kept on resounding in his ears; purpose, sacrifice, achieve!. It seemed to him that there was more than a message in these words and he could not agree any less that these were the most practical and simple words that he had heard since a long time. The composed face of Babaji had left a deep impact on his fickle mind. He had heard Babaji speak emotionally about Sant Teja Singh’s experiences with Sant Attar Singh; who showed him the true path of sacrifices and trained him to develop a humble mind despite being Harvard educated. This unpretentious humble old man seemed to be different from most of the others that Jasbir had come across since long. 

Contd..... (wait for part 4)

The Lion walks alone! - A Passionate Idiot's story Part - 2

How an angry young man labelled as an enthusiastic fool by most, turned the tables and bought himself 'near salvation'! The story of Jasbir Singh Sahni, who today is a pillar of Sewa for The Kalgidhar Trust, Baru Sahib. 

Part-2 


One hot summer on a Sunday afternoon, as usual Darji took Jasbir in his lap and related him a Saakhi of Guru Gobind Singh, the tenth master and how he himself dressed up his two sons Sahibzaadey Ajit Singh and Jhujhar Singh; preparing to send them to martyrdom in the battle of Chamkaur.

The impact of the reality hit young Jasbir like a cannon. He was dumbfounded and could not fathom the reason as to how a father could send his two adolescents towards a sure painful death in the hands of a one million army.

Darji looked into Jasbir’s eyes lifting his chin, “this does not end here, young man”. He added “The tenth master saw with his own eyes, his elder lad valiantly fighting and slaying hundreds before attaining martyrdom. To the shock of everybody, Guru Gobind Singh shouted in triumph with cheer on his face – Bole so Nihal – Sat Sri Akal (whoever utters the phrase following shall be happy, shall be fulfilled, Eternal is the Great Timeless Lord)”.

Jasbir could not believe his ears; but the next part of the true story made him miss a heartbeat. “Beta, the valiant master was asked by five Singhs to leave Chamkaur Fort in the dead of the night” said Darji with a hint of a glisten in his eyes “Guru ji having no choice started barefoot in dark with a few trusted lieutenants. He struck upon some heavy mass in the dark and asked Dya Singh to see what it was?” Tears welled up in the old man’s eyes “Dya Singh told his master that it was Sahibzaada Jhujhar Singh’s blood ridden body”.

“My son, this still does not end here. Do you know, what your Guru did?” Jasbir sat up; all eyes for his Master’s true-story. “He did not allow Dya Singh to put a shroud over the warrior son’s body” Darji was choking when he uttered Guru Gobind Singh’s resounding words “How many shrouds do you have Dya Singh, are the others lying here not my sons? Jasbir was jolted out of his stupor, as Darji said “His other two younger sons Sahibzaadey Zoravar singh and Fateh Singh chose to defy the Muslim Sultanate and embrace martyrdom by getting bricked alive in Sirhind despite being given the offer of freedom in return of converting to Islam.”

 “Jasbir putar (son), thus spake our Father when he was broken the news of the martyrdom of all four sons”. “In putran ke sees par waar diye sut chaar. Chaar muhe to kya hua jiwat kayi hazaar (It’s for your sake that, I have sacrificed my sons. What if four are dead, there are thousands who are still alive)” Darji broke down sobbing and held his little one tight in his embrace. The little boy clutched on stoically to his grandfather and tried hard to hold back his tears.

Rocking back and forth both souls were entwined in a tight clasp as if it was a divine cradle that was subduing their pain. That one moment Little Jasbir cried, and cried copiously as if it was not a story but an incident out of his own life.

Confused and shaken up with the impact of the unheard sacrifices hitting him hard, Jasbir lay down that night lost in deep thoughts. The innocent mind wove around a thread that looped in and out with varied thoughts, most that he could not reason with.

Feeling heavily burdened, his shiny perspiring forehead knotted with a hundred wrinkles that left his young unblemished skin strained and crinkled with a pinkish hue, the young boy left his wretched world behind as he drifted away to his dreams. This time he was floating over what looked like a battlefield, hundreds of bodies strewn around but as he swooped down, the blurred faces which now looked familiar, seemed beckoning to him with their arms swaying.

Jolted out of his dreams, the troubled boy suddenly awakened to a new stronger reason to live, a hope to fulfill and a desire to achieve, to become extraordinary, to rise above the customary and be known for that. The young impressionable mind had decided to move on and create his own path of exceptional sacrifice.

He felt as if just this thought, had melted away all the accumulated acrimonious anger pent up inside him, for the actions of the world which he could not understand. His face reflected an eerie calmness, something that he had not experienced for a long time now.

 As he trundled back from school the next day, he could see a crowd gathered around his house with groups in hushed voices exchanging glances at him. He walked in to a scene of commotion with his grandmother sobbing, lying at the feet of Darji and the ladies around her wailing in strange undecipherable voices.

Seeing his grandfather lying on the floor with his eyes closed, Jasbir sat down cross legged next to him. Confused, he could not make out the reason for the discomposure around him. Slowly his hands inched at the lifeless hand next to him to pinch it sharply. As a reflex, he expected Darji to say “Thehar jaa Baandar” (Stop you monkey), so that the serious state of affairs would turn lighter.

But Jasbir was even more confused when Darji did not respond and the touch of the skin felt cold and unnatural. His bewildered thoughts narrowed down when he realized hazily that this may be what they call ‘death’.

Darji had gone to the Gurdwara in the morning as usual and folded up at its gate after the morning Hukamnama (historical order of the Masters). The young kid felt orphaned today as he pined for his grandfather to cradle him and whisper him those inspirational stories. Jasbir felt as if a divine thread had broken and released him from the binds of the known and unkown.

What he could never imagine was that the old man had gathered up all of his young one’s pains and sorrows, in his arms to fly away to eternal bliss.

Contd. (wait for Part - 3)

The Lion walks alone! - A Passionate Idiot's story Part - 1

How an angry young man labelled as an enthusiastic fool by most, turned the tables and bought himself 'near salvation'! The story of Jasbir Singh Sahni, who today is a pillar of Sewa for The Kalgidhar Trust, Baru Sahib.

Part-1 

1971-1981 

It was a chilly winter night of December 1971. India was at war with its unrestrained neighbour and in the cacophony of Rajouri Garden market, a 7 year old kid looked wide eyed at the chaos all around, as the siren sounded. His thoughts were torn between imaginary scenes of fighter planes blazing overhead and the inner turmoil staring him at home where an unfathomable discord was shattering its peace.

Silent and confused, young Jasbir cuddled up in his grandfather’s lap and found some solace in the warmth and serenity in the gentle prayer that he was muttering. He looked up at his inscrutable face to see if he could unravel his perplexity. Darji silently cradled him and turned his face away from the commotion and prepared to put him to sleep. The innocent boy soon wafted into his dreams of flying fighter planes; dropping bombs on the enemy, forgetting the pain of his separation from someone that loved him the most.

Startled by the sudden turn of events at home and the turbulence all around, the kid started looking for answers to his unsettled thoughts, while his mates were lost in the merriment and so-called small joys of boyhood. Soon, this young boy developed severe mood swings and a confused and brittle temperament. But he always found comfort in the incoherent prayers and mumblings of his affable grandfather whom he lovingly called 'Darji'.

Darji was a source of soothing charm that mothered and somehow always alleviated the pains of Jasbir. He started teaching him the daily prayers 'Nitnem' and most afternoons were spent intently listening to mystical 'Saakhis' about the lives and teachings of the Sikh Gurus. The experienced eyes of the wizened old man sensed the young soul's desires and sympathetically started offering him 'boondi parshad' after the midday sojourn ended in 'samapti'.

Unknowingly, the young lad got hooked to the sweet partaking and along with it; he also lapped up the enchanting divine stories of his religious masters. While others were lost in the fascinating allure of Tintin and Phantom comics, this boy started fantasizing and living his own world of mythological spiritual beings.

Never a brilliant student, a disinterested Jasbir found schooling to be an agonizing experience. Getting teased by other students, just because he was ordinary disarranged dressed, made him go deeper into his shell; his uncommon behavior contributing copiously to aggravate this problem. But none around him realized that the young lad, although feeling angry brooded over the idea of some day joining a ‘Gurukul’ school that he was told; never discriminated between the rich and the poor; the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’.

Unknowingly the innocent withdrawn child developed a passion for day dreaming things and situations that were conducive to peace and happiness in the world around him although most of the time he found that he was surrounded by angry, sad and miserable people. In the midst of these chaotic and depressing scenes, he started chasing an elusive rainbow of permanent peace that would make this world a happy place to live in.

While coming back from school, he always used to stop by at the Church that was on its path. He could feel the warmth and love of Mother Mary’s statue holding Jesus in her lap. The serenity and sheer calmness of her countenance held him stupefied in his tracks for hours every day. His friends never realized that the young brat longed for the same love, affection and care that the child Jesus got in Mary’s arms.

From a distance, he could momentarily feel his sadness vanishing and getting filled up with a cold soothing draft leaving him assuaged and tranquilized. This scene haunted him for hours together and Jasbir, instead of crying, used to fantasize of being a Phantom who could paste a smile on every child that was motherless. Somehow at this age he resolved that crying made him a lesser man and he desired to be like his religious masters.

............Contd. (see Part - 2)

Anthem of the Passionate Idiots - I am a soldier in the army of my Waheguru!

I am a soldier in the army of my 

Waheguru!

         Guru Nanak is my Commanding Officer.
        The Guru Granth Sahib Ji is my code of conduct.
        Faith, prayer and the Words are my weapons of Warfare.

         I have been taught by the Holy Spirit,trained by experience,
         tried by adversity, and tested by fire.

                          I am a volunteer in this army,
                          and I am enlisted for eternity    

                                                                         

         I will either retire in this army at the rapture or die in this Army;
         but I will not get out,sell out, be talked out, or pushed out.
      

                            I am faithful, reliable,capable, and dependable.
                            If my Waheguru needs me, I am there.
          
         I am a soldier. I am not a baby. I do not need to be pampered,
         petted,primed up,pumped up, picked up, or pepped up.
    
                            I am a soldier. No one has to call me.
                            remind me, write me, visit me, entice me, or lure me.
    

         I am a soldier. No one has to send me flowers,
         gifts, food, cards, candy, or give me handouts.

                                                      

                       I do not need to be cuddled, cradled,
                       cared for, or catered to.
    
     I am committed,I cannot have my feelings hurt bad enough.
     I cannot be discouraged enough to turn me aside.
     I cannot lose enough to cause me to quit.      
  

                       When Guru Nanak called me into this army,
                       I had nothing. If I end up with nothing, I will still come out even.
    
     I will win. My Waheguru will supply all my needs.
     I am more than a conqueror. I will always triumph 

     I can do all things through HIM.

    
                       I am a soldier,Devils cannot defeat me
                       People cannot disillusion me. Weather cannot weary me
                                                                                             

     Sickness cannot stop me, Battles cannot beat me.                                                                                             

     Money cannot buy me. Governments cannot silence me

                       and hell cannot handle me!
                       I am a soldier. Even death cannot destroy me.
   

     For when my Waheguru calls me from this battlefield,
     He will promote me to a captain and then bring me back       

     to rule this world with HIM.
    
                       I am a soldier, in the army.
                       and I’m marching, claiming victory.
                                                                                      

                             I am a soldier, marching heaven bound. 

                             Here I stand!

                             Will you stand with me?