A visit to Harmandir Sahib

I don't know how but Madhuri took it in her head that we would start our northern travels with a visit to the Golden Temple, i.e., Har Mandir Sahib. After fiddling with the website of Indian Railways to the point of frustration, I took the name of the Guru and lo and behold, everything went through smoothly. We got our reservations done for the to and fro journeys and I even got the hotel reservations done from the website. Madhuri was surprised and sent me a special SMS, the kind I haven't received ever since we started on SMS.

The actual journey was comfortable and we got used to the free spirited behaviour of the Punjabis much faster than we had expected. Before the train started, a boy came with his mother to claim our seats. One look at the ticket in his hand and I could tell him that the coach and the seat numbers were right but the train was different. The surd sitting next to me appreciated my quick eye. We got talking. It turned out that he was a Vet Surgeon, head of the Dept and now a Registrar of the new Vet University at Ludhiana. He had done his Ph D from UK. He had several opportunities to move abroad to US and Canada, but had declined. He said all the comforts abroad could not substitute the feeling of NOT belonging there.

He talked of how his father, a non-believer, had uttered the name of God when his fever rose to a delirious level. He told us why he never took a dip in the Holy Waters of HMSahib. I enjoyed the conversation with him and wished him bon voyage for his impending US trip. The Shatabdi service was very good, they kept us feeding every now and then. It was quite a lot of food.
At Amritsar station, the hotel cabbie was waiting for us. That was a sign that things were going to be smooth. At the hotel counter, the boy told us that the best time to visit would be at 5 am. We could then see the lighting in the shrine. But that for us was an unearthly hour.
The next morning breakfast took a little long in coming. The fried egg wasn't any particular shape, while the parathas were perfect circles. The cabbie took us to HM Sahib. We loaded fresh batteries in our digicam. I bought a head scarf and wore it in the traditional style.
At the entrance we saw respectable people taking our footwear in their hands and keeping them on the shelves. The shallow in the pavement was used for washing the feet. We were directed by a young boy to start on the parikrama. It was getting hot under the blazing June sun. Crowds were coming into the precincts continuously. But there was no hustle and bustle. We dipped our feet at the appointed place and kept moving on. That's when a small sikh boy came and asked me, Which Country YOU? I was taken aback and said India. He vanished instanteneously. Madhuri could not control her laughter.

I realised we did look different from the rest of the crowd. Twice we were asked of the place we came from by friendly strangers. Slowly we made our way into the entry paths. There were no queues, but throngs of people awaited their turn in predetermined pathways, which were being opened alternately. So we made our way to the sanctum sanctorum, listening to the Gurubani being sung inside. The scorching sun, the heavy rush and the waiting lines did not bother us one bit. Such was the serenity and energy in the people and the place there.

Once a young girl in our part of the throng turned back and said something angrily to a man standing behind her. An elderly gentleman quickly asked the man to move away and he himself parked behing the girl. It happened swiftly. Nobody realised what had happened. I appreciated the wisdom of the old man. Men and women stood close together, but barring the peeve of the girl I didn't see anything remotely approaching indecent behaviour.

Volunteers kept coming with bowls of water for children and every time they said, water for children, they would end it by uttering the holy name, wahe guru. We finally reached the sanctum sanctorum, there was no ritual to be performed. People showed their reverence in their own ways. We did it by touching the ground with our forehead. On the way back we carried some prasad. We sat down in the promenade and ate it, savouring every bit of it.
As we made our way round, an elderly Sikh gentleman appeared from nowhere and asked me where I was from. He gave me a booklet describing Harmandirsahib and its history in brief. He said that this holy place is the best place in the world for him. He came there daily and at 85 was still hale and hearty, thanks to the practice of daily visiting HMSahib. He insisted that we must partake of Langar. We did that and then also bought the books that he suggested.

The Langar again was well organised. There were several dining halls which were being opened to the Jathas as they came. Makka di Roti - the Registrar informed us of machines making the roties - and some green dal were served in abundant quantity. The notice prominently displayed urged everyone to finish the food and not leave anything over in the plate. There were volunteers all around ending every sentence with Wahe Guru.

Outside in the shop selling the bracelets I realised I was duped. I quietly returned the bracelets and took back the money to buy them at half the price from another shop. That was the only jarring note. But it happens to all places of worship where crowds of devotees become gullible customers.

The lasting impressions though were of the openness, equal treatment to Sikhs and others, the spirit of service present in each one there and above all, no demand for money for any kind of rituals. One realises in actual experience the simple, direct and democratic nature of Sikhism and with it of the Bhakti movement which liberated the masses from the tyranny of the priestly classes. It is no wonder the Sikh gurus were seen as challengers of the rule by the emperors and persecuted. The Har Mandir Sahib has withstood countless assaults and has been built over and over again. Operation Blue Star (1984)was also seen as an assault of the same genre as those of the Mughals. Indira Gandhi perhaps failed to factor in the history of the Har Mandir Sahib. If she had, her approach could have been markedly different.

First written June 2006