Moving Forward, Or Sliding Backward
by T. SHER SINGH
I was not surprised to see Rajesh Mehta at the gurdwara. I knew he occasionally attended the Sunday morning services, and sometimes even dropped in at other hours.
After the kirtan, we headed for the langar hall together.
We are close friends and there was a lot to talk about and catch-up this time around. However, during a lull in the conversation - it must have been when I was engrossed in lapping up the heavenly daal - the discussion took an unusual turn.
"You know, Sher, I'm a Hindu but I love coming here because the kirtan and being amidst the sangat brings me peace. But I've often wondered: do you ever go to a mandir? Any Hindu temple?"
"Why do you ask, Raj?" I was doing my lawyer thing, I guess - answering a question with a question, to bide time.
"Oh, it just hit me ... I've never seen you at my mandir. And I've never heard you talk about visiting one, ever. So, just curious ..."
"Well," I said, "You know, I have visited the most famous of them all. At Badrinath, in the upper Himalayas. I was in the vicinity - a mere two days' trek away - when I was in Hemkunt, and took a diversion to Badrinath. Have you been there?"
"No, I haven't. You are lucky you had the opportunity!"
I continued quickly, thinking I was on a roll: "And I've been to Hardwar, and Benares, and Gaya ... all major centres of Hindu pilgrimage. And umpteen ones in Bali and Nepal. You know I love visiting any place of worship!"
"No, no!" piped in Raj. "I didn't mean as a tourist. Like me ... the way I pop in here every time the spirit moves me. I wonder if you EVER go to a Hindu mandir the way I come to a gurdwara."
I went quiet, contemplative quiet, not sure what I should say.
"For example, when was the last time you were in a mandir?"
I thought about it and shrugged my shoulders.
Raj: "H-m-mm. So tell me, have you ever been to a mandir in all the years you've been living in Canada? Thirty years, forty years ...?"
I could see where he was heading, and didn't want to go there. I knew he knew the answer, and I wasn't willing to be drawn into a discussion on the issue.
He looked at me and elbowed me gently. "Never? You haven't gone to a mandir here once, have you?"
I shook my head in agreement.
"How come?" I knew this was coming.
"I don't know, Raj. I really don't know ... No particular reason, I guess."
Mercifully, he dropped the subject. We got up and headed for the door.
I was relieved, because Raj is dear to me and I didn't want to say anything that would turn into an argument over religion. Or hurt his sentiments.
Ever since - and its been several months since that exchange - my thoughts have gone back to his question.
I have searched deep into myself for the answer. I too have wanted to know the answer, because it was true - I do not enjoy going to a mandir, except as a tourist! - and it looks like I've subconsciously avoided going to one. It has no spiritual draw for me.
I've struggled long and hard for an honest answer.
And when I found one, it didn't surprise me - even though it took me a while to be comfortable with it. And accept it as the very part of my being. What shapes me, guides me, directs me ... in all that I do.
I haven't dared to share this discovery of myself with Raj because I fear that he may not welcome it, or it may hurt him a bit. I value our friendship too much for me to risk treading on what is dear to him.
But, if I ever have the courage to give him the answer one day, here's what it'll be:
Well Raj, here's what I think. I think it is easy for you to come to a gurdwara, even though you are a Hindu. Each time you step over the portal of a gurdwara, you step five centuries into the future, and into a world which has peeled off thousands of years of onion layers of ritual and superstition to get to a simple and direct relationship between oneself and one's spiritual needs.
On the other hand, every time I find myself stepping into a mandir, I see myself stepping back half a millennium into the past, leaving behind generations of human and spiritual progress, of all of the shedding of historical baggage that our ancestors have helped to do away with.
Standing in front of the idols and surrounded by the rituals and superstitions, I would feel a stunning sense of betrayal to all that I have inherited and learned since my birth.
I pass no judgement in what you do in a mandir, or as part of your faith and beliefs. But I certainly know for sure that it is not a path that I wish to tread.
It's a choice of moving forward with five hundred years of progress. Or sliding back five hundred years of regression!
And rest assured that though I choose a different path than yours, this path requires me to protect YOUR right to practice YOUR faith as YOU deem fit, within YOUR mandirs and anywhere else you choose, no matter who - I or anyone else! - finds it difficult to understand or follow. To defend your right to the death, as did our Ninth Master in Chandni Chowk in the heart of Delhi, and as countless others have done since then and through the centuries.
It gives me no great pleasure to tell you that my knees simply will not bend, my head will just not bow, before an idol, no matter how beautiful, how tall, how rich ...
I believe that no other entity - man, woman, child or object - can help solve my problems or wash my sins away. There's no prophet or priest, sant or saint, idol or icon, that can bring me prosperity, stave off evil, punish my enemies, get me a promotion, bring me wealth, or guarantee me salvation, etc., etc.
Life doesn't work by proxy for me. There are no interceders for me - not even Guru Nanak or Guru Gobind Singh.
All that I have going for me is the way they have shown, which I have to follow and, if I do what I have to do, I will be able to achieve what they themselves achieved.
Yes, I pray for grace ... but from no flesh or stone or icon.
I need no broker. God - call Him/Her what you will - for me is not hiding behind gimmicks, like the Great and Powerful, Supreme Wizard of the Kingdom of Oz. He is as accessible - as directly and easily - as a father and mother, sister and brother, friend and lover.
It's a very personal relationship. Therefore, I need to walk the walk ... myself! I will pay for my wrongs ... and learn from them. I will benefit from the good that I do.
The gurdwara that I go to - and not all gurdwaras fit that bill - facilitates my journey. A mandir has nothing to offer me on the journey I have chosen.
* * * * *
I am not, and never have been, blessed with the gift of certainty in all the things that I believe in and follow. I know that, more often than not, I'll be wrong and, from time to time, I'll have to regroup with all of my faculties and start all over again.
Accordingly, what I have stated above is how I feel and what I believe in. Honestly.
I shared it all with a Sikh friend the other day to see if it met the test of the light of the day.
He pounced on me as soon as I finished, and instantly accused me of betraying all that Sikhi stood for - by being intolerant of other faiths.
I begged to differ.
Sikhi demands that I be tolerant - and more! Actually respectful! - of other faiths. Which I am. I revel in the devotion and faith and commitment others show, in their respective ways, to their spiritual path. And get inspiration from it.
But Sikhi at no point requires me to delve in those practices as a show of support or empathy.
The passionate verses of the Bhagats Namdev, Ravidas and other great Hindu souls included in the Guru Granth, drench me in joyful tears and inspire me along my own path, but at no point do I then adopt the very rituals they delved in (and overcame).
Moreover, I do not criticize Hindu - or any other - forms of worship. I do not advocate any opposition to it amongst those who practice them. I neither proselytize nor preach.
Yes, I do try to discern for myself and share with my fellow-Sikhs what is true, unadulterated Sikhi and what isn't - and I try to add to the dialogue for those who wish to know about Sikhi.
And yes, I do tear off the veils of pakhand (hypocrisy) and fraud, no matter which mantle the scoundrel throws on his shoulders - Sikh, Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Jew or whatever - but never, NEVER do I give myself or anyone the license to decry another's religion.
Thus, for example, it is no right of mine to question the worship of idols BY Hindus. But I do question when the worship of idols is used as a front for insurance scams by insuring those very idols for millions of dollars.
I do not question the Hindu practice of worshipping a multiplicity of gods and goddesses, but I do take umbrage with charlatans who prey on those very human sentiments to scam millions of dollars from their devotees thus blinded by their devotion.
And so on and so forth.
Someday, I hope, I'll have the courage to tell dear Raj to his face my answer to his question.
In the meantime, I await your judgements ... and continue to hide behind the pseudonym I have assigned him for the purpose of this exercise.
October 19, 2010
http://www.sikhchic.com/columnists/moving_forward_or_sliding_backward
by T. SHER SINGH
I was not surprised to see Rajesh Mehta at the gurdwara. I knew he occasionally attended the Sunday morning services, and sometimes even dropped in at other hours.
After the kirtan, we headed for the langar hall together.
We are close friends and there was a lot to talk about and catch-up this time around. However, during a lull in the conversation - it must have been when I was engrossed in lapping up the heavenly daal - the discussion took an unusual turn.
"You know, Sher, I'm a Hindu but I love coming here because the kirtan and being amidst the sangat brings me peace. But I've often wondered: do you ever go to a mandir? Any Hindu temple?"
"Why do you ask, Raj?" I was doing my lawyer thing, I guess - answering a question with a question, to bide time.
"Oh, it just hit me ... I've never seen you at my mandir. And I've never heard you talk about visiting one, ever. So, just curious ..."
"Well," I said, "You know, I have visited the most famous of them all. At Badrinath, in the upper Himalayas. I was in the vicinity - a mere two days' trek away - when I was in Hemkunt, and took a diversion to Badrinath. Have you been there?"
"No, I haven't. You are lucky you had the opportunity!"
I continued quickly, thinking I was on a roll: "And I've been to Hardwar, and Benares, and Gaya ... all major centres of Hindu pilgrimage. And umpteen ones in Bali and Nepal. You know I love visiting any place of worship!"
"No, no!" piped in Raj. "I didn't mean as a tourist. Like me ... the way I pop in here every time the spirit moves me. I wonder if you EVER go to a Hindu mandir the way I come to a gurdwara."
I went quiet, contemplative quiet, not sure what I should say.
"For example, when was the last time you were in a mandir?"
I thought about it and shrugged my shoulders.
Raj: "H-m-mm. So tell me, have you ever been to a mandir in all the years you've been living in Canada? Thirty years, forty years ...?"
I could see where he was heading, and didn't want to go there. I knew he knew the answer, and I wasn't willing to be drawn into a discussion on the issue.
He looked at me and elbowed me gently. "Never? You haven't gone to a mandir here once, have you?"
I shook my head in agreement.
"How come?" I knew this was coming.
"I don't know, Raj. I really don't know ... No particular reason, I guess."
Mercifully, he dropped the subject. We got up and headed for the door.
I was relieved, because Raj is dear to me and I didn't want to say anything that would turn into an argument over religion. Or hurt his sentiments.
Ever since - and its been several months since that exchange - my thoughts have gone back to his question.
I have searched deep into myself for the answer. I too have wanted to know the answer, because it was true - I do not enjoy going to a mandir, except as a tourist! - and it looks like I've subconsciously avoided going to one. It has no spiritual draw for me.
I've struggled long and hard for an honest answer.
And when I found one, it didn't surprise me - even though it took me a while to be comfortable with it. And accept it as the very part of my being. What shapes me, guides me, directs me ... in all that I do.
I haven't dared to share this discovery of myself with Raj because I fear that he may not welcome it, or it may hurt him a bit. I value our friendship too much for me to risk treading on what is dear to him.
But, if I ever have the courage to give him the answer one day, here's what it'll be:
Well Raj, here's what I think. I think it is easy for you to come to a gurdwara, even though you are a Hindu. Each time you step over the portal of a gurdwara, you step five centuries into the future, and into a world which has peeled off thousands of years of onion layers of ritual and superstition to get to a simple and direct relationship between oneself and one's spiritual needs.
On the other hand, every time I find myself stepping into a mandir, I see myself stepping back half a millennium into the past, leaving behind generations of human and spiritual progress, of all of the shedding of historical baggage that our ancestors have helped to do away with.
Standing in front of the idols and surrounded by the rituals and superstitions, I would feel a stunning sense of betrayal to all that I have inherited and learned since my birth.
I pass no judgement in what you do in a mandir, or as part of your faith and beliefs. But I certainly know for sure that it is not a path that I wish to tread.
It's a choice of moving forward with five hundred years of progress. Or sliding back five hundred years of regression!
And rest assured that though I choose a different path than yours, this path requires me to protect YOUR right to practice YOUR faith as YOU deem fit, within YOUR mandirs and anywhere else you choose, no matter who - I or anyone else! - finds it difficult to understand or follow. To defend your right to the death, as did our Ninth Master in Chandni Chowk in the heart of Delhi, and as countless others have done since then and through the centuries.
It gives me no great pleasure to tell you that my knees simply will not bend, my head will just not bow, before an idol, no matter how beautiful, how tall, how rich ...
I believe that no other entity - man, woman, child or object - can help solve my problems or wash my sins away. There's no prophet or priest, sant or saint, idol or icon, that can bring me prosperity, stave off evil, punish my enemies, get me a promotion, bring me wealth, or guarantee me salvation, etc., etc.
Life doesn't work by proxy for me. There are no interceders for me - not even Guru Nanak or Guru Gobind Singh.
All that I have going for me is the way they have shown, which I have to follow and, if I do what I have to do, I will be able to achieve what they themselves achieved.
Yes, I pray for grace ... but from no flesh or stone or icon.
I need no broker. God - call Him/Her what you will - for me is not hiding behind gimmicks, like the Great and Powerful, Supreme Wizard of the Kingdom of Oz. He is as accessible - as directly and easily - as a father and mother, sister and brother, friend and lover.
It's a very personal relationship. Therefore, I need to walk the walk ... myself! I will pay for my wrongs ... and learn from them. I will benefit from the good that I do.
The gurdwara that I go to - and not all gurdwaras fit that bill - facilitates my journey. A mandir has nothing to offer me on the journey I have chosen.
* * * * *
I am not, and never have been, blessed with the gift of certainty in all the things that I believe in and follow. I know that, more often than not, I'll be wrong and, from time to time, I'll have to regroup with all of my faculties and start all over again.
Accordingly, what I have stated above is how I feel and what I believe in. Honestly.
I shared it all with a Sikh friend the other day to see if it met the test of the light of the day.
He pounced on me as soon as I finished, and instantly accused me of betraying all that Sikhi stood for - by being intolerant of other faiths.
I begged to differ.
Sikhi demands that I be tolerant - and more! Actually respectful! - of other faiths. Which I am. I revel in the devotion and faith and commitment others show, in their respective ways, to their spiritual path. And get inspiration from it.
But Sikhi at no point requires me to delve in those practices as a show of support or empathy.
The passionate verses of the Bhagats Namdev, Ravidas and other great Hindu souls included in the Guru Granth, drench me in joyful tears and inspire me along my own path, but at no point do I then adopt the very rituals they delved in (and overcame).
Moreover, I do not criticize Hindu - or any other - forms of worship. I do not advocate any opposition to it amongst those who practice them. I neither proselytize nor preach.
Yes, I do try to discern for myself and share with my fellow-Sikhs what is true, unadulterated Sikhi and what isn't - and I try to add to the dialogue for those who wish to know about Sikhi.
And yes, I do tear off the veils of pakhand (hypocrisy) and fraud, no matter which mantle the scoundrel throws on his shoulders - Sikh, Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Jew or whatever - but never, NEVER do I give myself or anyone the license to decry another's religion.
Thus, for example, it is no right of mine to question the worship of idols BY Hindus. But I do question when the worship of idols is used as a front for insurance scams by insuring those very idols for millions of dollars.
I do not question the Hindu practice of worshipping a multiplicity of gods and goddesses, but I do take umbrage with charlatans who prey on those very human sentiments to scam millions of dollars from their devotees thus blinded by their devotion.
And so on and so forth.
Someday, I hope, I'll have the courage to tell dear Raj to his face my answer to his question.
In the meantime, I await your judgements ... and continue to hide behind the pseudonym I have assigned him for the purpose of this exercise.
October 19, 2010
http://www.sikhchic.com/columnists/moving_forward_or_sliding_backward