The Lions of Punjab

This article appeared in the Time magazine on November 12, 1984.

Dera Sacha Sauda and I

As I keep track of the coverage, in newspapers and on television, of the Dera Sacha Sauda controversy, there are a few things that strike me as strange.

Firstly, the Dera has been described as a 'Sikh sect' in certain sections of the news media, whereas it has nothing to do with Sikhism (or any other religious faith, as for that matter).

Secondly, something that has been part of conversations in urban drawing-rooms and rural baithhaks in Punjab i.e. the Dera head issued an edict to his followers to vote for Congress (I) in the recent state assembly elections, only because that party offered to help 'dispose off' the criminal cases filed against the Baba and his followers (the charges include murder and sexual abuse), in case it was able to form the government, does not appear to have been mentioned in any newspaper or on any television channel.

Thirdly, most media reports seem to imply that the Sikhs have been outraged merely by the fact that the Baba appeared dressed like Guru Gobind Singh, whereas, the truth is that he not only dressed like the Guru, but also attempted to replicate, to a large extent, what the Guru did on the day of the foundation of the Khalsa (in spite of the counter-claims made in the latest press statement put out by the Dera). He tried to do a 'role play', in which he put himself in the place of the Tenth Master.

I have had an inkling that the Baba harboured such ambitions, for a long time. For several years now, the Dera has been publishing calenders with photographs of his, in which he can be seen on a white horse or in other poses imitating the way, in which Guru Gobind Singh has often been depicted in paintings. Perhaps others, too, have noticed all that and at least some of what has happened over the past few days has been the culmination of events that have taken place over the past few years.

I think, however, that the media is right about the Shromani Akali Dal (the ruling party) versus Congress (I) angle to the violence. The hukam-naama calling for complete boycott of the Dera and its followers, in my opinion, would have put the message across clearly enough and the violence was unnecessary. Incidentally, though, the violence began when the Dera's supporters attacked a bunch of peaceful Akali protestors on May 14.

On a more personal note, the whole episode brought back memories of my own connection with the Dera.

Even as news media have been reporting that the Dera's followers comprise Sikhs mainly from the so-called backward castes (I believe they are among some of the most privileged people in Punjab today, but that is another story altogether.), there are some who are Jatt Sikhs also, as in the case of one such unfortunate example from my family. My paternal great-grandfather had five brothers, the youngest of whom became an ardent follower of the Dera Sacha Sauda. A few years later, the elder of his two sons followed in his footsteps. He, in fact, went a few steps farther than his father in terms of his devotion to the cult and got involved with its management and administration. Hard-working and honest as he was, he soon rose among the ranks and was widely billed as a likely candidate for a high-ranking position in the Dera hierarchy (Some of my elders tell me that he was expected to be made the head of the Dera, although I am not absolutely sure about this.).

Then, one day, while he was at the Dera premises, he was poisoned and his corpse delivered home in a tractor-trolley on the next. The father, the devout follower that he was, refused to file a case of murder with the police and also forbade the rest of the family from doing so.

This happened many years ago (in the early 1980's), much before Baba Gurmeet Ram Rahim took over as chief, but has been proof enough, at least for me, that sleaze has always been an integral part of this cult.

I wonder if there have been other cases, as well, when unnatural deaths at the Dera have gone unreported.

A friend indeed

I have known him for several years now. He is an old friend of my brother's and that is how we got introduced, when I returned to live with my family, after completing my post-graduate degree. We seemed to hit it off rather well from the first meeting onwards and have been good friends ever since.

My mother has named him Zakhmi (the injured one) and the name has stuck, because he tends to get into fights every now and then and, in which, often, he is out-numbered many to one. The injuries sustained are serious at times and he has almost moved on to the 'happy hunting grounds' on more than one occasion. It took a really long time for a particularly deep wound on his neck, which was the result of a rather nasty confrontation, I suppose, to heal. My brother and I washed it with anti-septic solution every day and a kind gentleman down the street fed him anti-biotics.

Coming from a clan of warrriors, myself, I can perfectly understand his compulsion to stand up for what he believes is right, even though the prospect of losing a dear friend is certainly not a good one.

By the grace of the Almighty, he is doing fine till now and bears the scars of battle with pride.

When Zakhmi was younger, my brother had bestowed upon him the title of 'the playful one', for whenever he would spot my brother or I, he would come running and repeatedly raise one of his front-paws, in a gesture that sought to communicate the fact that he wanted to play with us.

Though born on the street and still living there, he is smarter than most dogs I have known. He seems to understand perfectly whatever my mother says to him in chaste Punjabi and acts accordingly. On the other hand, if he has something to say to any of us, he is, generally, able to convey that through his actions, without much difficulty.

The colour of his coat is the same as that of a lion and he has a very regal bearing. He walks or trots in a fashion, which seems to suggest that he was either a member of a royal family or a soldier of high rank, in a previous birth. Even in this life, I think he would have made an excellent police or military dog, had he been given the chance, and marched smartly in parades, with his unit or battalion .

He does not pick up food thrown in front of him and eats only when fed by hand. His self-respect, obviously, is of paramount importance to him.

Being the large-hearted 'gentleman' (or should I say 'gentledog'?) that he is, he cares a lot for his friends. He amply demonstrated this quality of his, when my beloved Tinkoo died and he was the first to offer me a shoulder to cry upon.

More recently, I developed a huge boil on my left knee that became septic, causing it to fill up with a lot of pus. The resultant pain made it difficult for me to stand up or even sit straight for an extended period of time. The three or four steps required to be taken to go to the toilet adjacent to my room seemed to be one of the longest journies I have ever embarked upon. So, I was unable to venture outside for several days and this must have caused Zakmi to become worried, for he decided to visit me to ask after my health.

One evening, he came to our front door and started scratching it with his nails. When my mother opened the door, he simply rushed past her and came straight to my bed-side. After getting his ears scratched and head patted for a while, he went away, as quickly as he had come. This sequence continued to be repeated daily, over the next few days, until I had recovered fully.

His visits were the highlight of my day and I looked forward to seeing him.

I feel blessed to have him as a friend!

Saanjha Virsa PunjabiaaN Da (The Shared Heritage of Punjabis)

A magazine is to be published in the Punjabi language, every quarter, simultaneously from Lahore, Punjab, Pakistan and Ludhiana, Punjab, India. The Lahore edition is to be printed in the Shahmukhi script and the Ludhiana edition in Gurmukhi. The content of both editions, obviously, is to be exactly the same.

This is the first such experiment that I am aware of and I sincerely hope that it would not only be successful in terms of the magazine becoming immensely popular, but also achieve its larger goal of bringing Punjabis, wherever in the world they might reside, closer to each other.

I came to know about it when the Academy of the Punjab in North America asked permission to include, in the first issue, my blog-posts about my Pakistan trip, granting which, was, of course, a great honour for me. They even had it all translated into Punjabi, on their own.

The magazine is to be called Sanjh, which is very appropriate as it seeks to preserve and promote the glorious language, culture and heritage that all Punjabis share.