Metamorphosis: Episode 9
Gurudwara
Megan adjusted her chunni as she stood outside the main entrance to the Gurudwara with Sidhak. She kept fidgeting with it, turning it this way and that, trying to keep it in place as it kept slipping off her head.
"I'm not getting the hang of this," she finally said, looking to Sidhak for help.
"You're fine," Sidhak laughed and placed the chunni neatly on her head in one swift movement, casually flipping one end over her shoulder. And it stayed perfectly neat and settled.
"Wow, I'm impressed!" said Megan, amazed at how well the chunni suddenly fit her.
"The important thing is that our heads must be covered," Sidhak smiled, "shall we go in?"
Megan took a deep breath and nodded. When Sidhak opened the ornately decorated double-doors, the view inside was even more spectacular than Megan had imagined. She had seen photographs and even watched some YouTube videos which displayed the interior of a Gurudwara. But it had not prepared her for the breathtaking sight now before her eyes. There were bright colors, soulful strains of music, a serene atmosphere, and she got the very real sense and feeling of being in a royal court.
Sidhak leaned down and touched the floor with her fingers and then touched her forehead. Then she stepped inside and walked reverently to the front of the main hall, where the Guru Granth Sahib was resting upon a dais, covered in a sparkling purple rumalla with intricate and delicate designs. Sidhak and Megan were standing at the end of a short line of people, all waiting to pay their respects to the great Guru of the Sikhs. Behind the platform sat a man with a white beard and saffron turban, waving a chaur gently and slowly over the scriptures. Overhead, a large canopy, the chandoa sahib, covered the platform. To their right, Megan observed the ragi jatha (musicians) playing traditional Indian musical instruments, the harmonium and tabla, and another stringed instrument that she thought looked like a mandolin. All around her, people were dressed in vibrant colors and exotic dresses. She felt that the blue jeans and white blouse she was wearing seemed drab compared to all the vibrant colors and designs all around her. The red chunni that Sidhak had given her seemed to be the most colorful thing she had on.
But her self-consciousness was short lived. She noticed the two large screens in each front corner of the main hall. There, projected for all to see, was the shabad that the ragi jatha was performing, complete with a transliteration to aid pronunciation, and the English translation. Megan read the line that was being displayed and was transfixed.
When they reached the front of the line, Sidhak pressed the palms of her hands together, closed her eyes and bowed her head. She stood silently for a few moments like this. Then she knelt down, placed an offering in the golak, and performed matha tek, placing her forehead on the ground and bowing before the Guru. Megan followed suit, and then they both rose together and found a place to sit among the gathered sangat. Megan was noticing every detail, taking it all in and processing it in her mind. She noticed that all the women sat on one side of the hall, and all the men on the other side. She felt more comfortable with Sidhak sitting right next to her, and also having women and girls surrounding them, as there were a lot of people and it was close quarters for everyone.
Sidhak sat very straight and still, her attention and focus completely on the shabad. Megan looked up at the screen and as soon as she started reading the English translations, she was immersed in the shabad and she lost track of time.
Eventually the service ended. Everyone stood for the concluding prayer, which was followed by a reading from the Guru Granth Sahib and the distribution of karah parshad, a sort of sweet pudding. Afterward, Sidhak led Megan to the langar hall where they sat down for a hot meal. It was a lively atmosphere, filled with sounds of people talking, children playing, and the clamor of plates and spoons. On the other side was the large kitchen, where sevadaars (volunteers), were cooking food, washing dishes, making fresh tea, and cleaning. Some were hurrying out with clean plates, others with pots full of hot daal or fresh roti's. Megan watched all of this in awe.
"This is all free?" she asked Sidhak incredulously.
"Yes," Sidhak smiled warmly, "the food is free, and everyone here is volunteering."
"Why is everyone sitting on the floor?" she asked curiously.
"It's to drive home a point," Sidhak replied, "No one is higher or lower than anyone else. We're all equal. The emperor and the beggar, all sit on the same level to eat Guru's langar."
After they had eaten, Sidhak asked, "Would you like to come help? I'm going to distribute some food and then help with cleaning up in the kitchen."
"Sure, just tell me what I can do."
"Take a look around, see what you feel like doing."
"I think I'll just do what you do," Megan laughed.
She walked behind Sidhak as they walked down the line offering daal and sabzi to the seated sangat members.
Megan thought it was quite interesting how the other sevadaar's walked the line with the fresh roti's asking "Parshada, ji?" to everyone, and offering the fresh hot roti to anyone who needed it. They seemed very keen and were delighted whenever someone asked for roti. Their countenance changed and great big smiles came upon their features.
As she walked up and down the rows of people seated, offering hot daal to whoever asked for it, she realized how everyone was different. All different shapes and sizes and ages. But in the end, they all seemed to be the same, somehow. All humans, all people, with the same hopes and dreams and desires, and the same problems and difficulties and challenges.
They spent some time in the kitchen after that, washing the dishes. This was something familiar to Megan, although the large sink and the amount of steel plates was not something she had dealt with before. But after a few minutes, she was comfortable with it and found that she was even enjoying herself. When they had finished, Sidhak took her to meet some of the sangat.
"Come, I want you to meet someone," Sidhak took her by the arm and guided her to an elderly couple who were seated in the corner, just finishing up their food.
"Uncleji, Auntieji," Sidhak said, "Sat Sri Akal. How are you?"
Dhillon Aunty looked up and smiled, "Sat Sri Akal beti, we're doing just fine. You tell us, how is everything?"
"Really good Auntieji," Sidhak replied, "I have a friend who is coming to Gurudwara for the first time. This is Megan."
Megan smiled, "Hello," she said.
"Oh hello," Dhillon Aunty seemed genuinely pleased to see Megan. Her husband, Dhillon Uncle also smiled, nodding his head several times, "Hello, hello," he said, "Welcome, it is nice that you came."
"Oh, it's nice to be here. Thanks to Sidhak, I'm learning a lot, it's really wonderful," Megan finally felt like she was able to express her gratitude.
"Oh, it's wonderful that you came," Dhillon Uncle said emphatically, "you know, coming to Gurudwara is a very, very good thing. All blessings are obtained from here. All of them."
"Is Gurpreet here?" Sidhak asked.
The smile left Dhillon Aunty's face and she seemed to be downcast.
"No," she sighed, "he doesn't seem to have the time anymore. Maybe, one day, with Guru's kirpa, he will return."
"He surely will Auntieji," Sidhak said, reassuring her.
They sat and talked for a few more minutes. They both seemed to be delighted with Megan, and talked merrily with her, laughing and joking and generally congratulating her for having attended the Gurudwara. Just as they were getting up to leave, Dhillon Aunty reached into her purse.
"Before you go," she said, motioning to Megan, "I have something I want to give you."
Megan was surprised. She had no idea what it could be, considering they had just met.
Dhillon Aunty pulled out a small gutka that was wrapped in a soft light pink cloth cover.
"It's a Nitnem gutka," she explained, as she handed it to Megan, who received it with both hands. "You know Nitnem?"
Megan nodded. "Yes, Sidhak explained it to me. It's the daily prayers."
"Right!" Dhillon Aunty was very impressed. "This gutka has all the daily prayers, morning and evening. It has English translations too, and it has the pronunciation in English to help you to learn to read Gurmukhi. I have been keeping it in my purse, thinking I would give it to my son Gurpreet one day. But, I think maybe he is not ready for it just yet. But you are. So you should have it."
"Oh, I couldn't—" she began, unsure of whether she should accept the gift.
"No, no, no," Dhillon Aunty seemed adamant. "Is anything a coincidence in life? No, it is not. It may not have been meant for Gurpreet, who knows? But I do know it was meant for you. You are ready for it."
"Well, in that case, thank you," Megan smiled, "I will read it every day."
Before they left the Gurudwara, Sidhak introduced Megan to several other members of the local sangat. She received a warm welcome from everyone, and that made Megan feel very comfortable and at ease. She felt that the first visit would certainly not be her last.
Lee was sitting in Gurpreet's apartment, staring out the window.
"Not really a great view here," he observed, "just the street and more run-down old houses."
"You can see the girls walking to class in the morning," Gurpreet offered.
"Well, I suppose that's something," Lee replied. "Hey, how did your Church visit go? Are you all converted to your new religion now?"
"It went really good," said Gurpreet, becoming thoughtful, "It was a good experience, you know. Everyone there is really nice, and you get to feel that you're part of something bigger, and you're not alone. Pastor Levin really has a great way of communicating, he's a really great speaker."
"You gotta hear me on this one," Lee said emphatically, "All religion is brainwashing. All religion. You can get that feel-good vibe anywhere. All the religious stuff with the cross and the jingles and the rituals and the big man in the sky, all of that stuff is just a fairy tale. The first man, the garden of Eden, all of it."
Gurpreet was not prepared for Lee's vehement response. He felt a little uncomfortable engaging in a persuasive argument when he wasn't sure of anything himself. So he decided to change the conversation to a neutral topic.
"Is there a party tonight at Milton's?" he said casually.
"Yea, 7 O'clock. You coming?"
"Yes, of course! We can grab a few beers before. I don't have anything going on."
"Now you're talking!" Lee was happy.