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Metamorphosis

by RAVINDER SINGH

 

Author's Note: This personal account was written a few weeks after the Vaisakhi of 1996. It captures my enthusiastic and fervent embrace of the Khalsa Path/Panth and its Rehat. In the twelve years since I first embarked on this path, the way of the Khalsa has shaped me in ways that I could not have imagined  -  and undoubtedly will continue to reshape me as I continue on this journey. I share the original with a retrospective that follows, entitled, "In Retrospect".

 

After almost twenty years of sporting a "clean shaven" look, I was prepared for the daily challenge of wearing a turban. After all, I had worn one before.

Managing a beard that was now fully grown, adapting to the knickers (I like to call them brakeAn wala kachera) and wearing a kirpan would be breaking new ground.

But I was all geared up.  I was also alert to the fact that my changed appearance would take friends, relatives and colleagues at work some getting used to, not to mention the fact that it would also invite attention on the streets of New York.

What I did not anticipate was the transforming and hypnotic effect that wearing the Five K's would have on my demeanor and outlook.

For starters, the mornings are noticeably longer. Dressing for work used to be routine and humdrum. Now, however, each task, though similar, is laden with meaning and suggestion because of the symbolism inherent in the Five K's. There is now an undertone associated with the grooming process that was absent earlier. I am beginning to appreciate the Khalsa symbols as carriers of subliminal messages. 

As I run the wooden comb, or kanga, to untangle the knots in my (as yet unmanageable) hair, it also reminds me to undo the knots of spiritual ignorance with the comb of Gurmat.  

Nothing quite matches the feel of wearing a "brakeAn wala kachera".  With each step, I can feel its gentle tug at the knee, telling me to remain established in modesty and self restraint. Finding the right length kachera was a challenge. The gurdwara supplied us with some ill fitting, badly stitched pieces that were nowhere near the variety that I was eagerly looking forward to.

The kirpan reinforces my resolve to embody the qualities of a Sant-Sipahi.  A Khalsa is a soldier of God (Akal Purukh Ki Fauj), always alert and ready to do battle: the one inside one's head and outside. I wear the kirpan inside my shirt (like most Amritdharis I know) but wonder why we need to conceal its presence. 

For now, I don't have the answer. 

Tying the turban has become a daily formality and one that I invest with the same ceremony and courtesy that befits a crown. Indeed, the turban is a Khalsa's crown and the centerpiece of a Sikh's identity. Turban tying is central to my morning routine and I approach it with the utmost reverence.

Turban color, material, fold and style were major considerations. Like a zealous convert, I wanted to wear all white, an idea that was quickly shot down by my wife with a curt "You are not an old Baba yet!"

The point was hammered home in chaste Punjabi. Understood.  

To lose interest in colors is akin to losing interest in life. I have learnt to match my turban color with the rest of my outfit and that draws compliments for my sense of color coordination! I am not that fashion conscious, but enjoy the compliments, nonetheless.

Patiala-style turbans with their "double width" are just too challenging for a novice like me. Besides, I prefer the regular width and smaller turban. Just appears more chic to me.  Then, there is the question of "to starch or not to starch". I am still working on this one, although I think nothing quite compares to the regal starched look.

Like a crown, my turban is not worn or removed casually. Unlike donning a hat, I wrap my turban daily with delicate attention to any wrinkles that must be ironed out. On occasion, a stubborn fold, or laR, will defy me. That is when I practice the virtue of patience (not always successfully) and redo the fold until it meets expectations. Of course, that causes me to miss my regular train on the Long Island Railroad. But I know my priorities: a Khalsa is not to give in to an errant "laR" or leave home with a sloppily-tied turban. There will always be another train. The end result is almost always gratifying.

I must confess that I do have "bad turban" days, not unlike the bad hair days that women experience.  On such days, I reassure myself that it was not meant to be: Aj Hukam nahin hoya.

My Khalsa appearance has had some delightfully unexpected reactions. The Monday after the ceremony, as I made my way through rush hour commuters at Penn Station, I was warmly greeted by Iqbal, who manages a newsstand. Iqbal happens to be from Sialkot, Pakistan, where my father is from, so we have struck up a friendship of sorts. As I approach him, I can see that he is pleased with my new appearance. "Way to go, now you can stand tall like a Sardar", he says in Punjabi: "Eh gal hoyi Na! Uche Sirr SardaraN de!" and congratulates me with a hug.

My boss at Lehman Brothers, a British expatriate, knows the Sikhs quite well.  He sends the word out, cautioning everyone: "Don't mess with Ravi. He is on the warpath. He is an authentic Singh now". He meant that in the most complimentary way, of course.

Many of my associates at work have approached me to say how my decision has caused them to look again at their own faith commitment. This is most gratifying.

As I catch that last look in the mirror before leaving home, I am overcome with a keen sense of connection to a noble faith and tradition, a deep feeling of gratitude and obligation to the Guru for investing me as "Sant-Sipah". My new look is electrifying. I am quite unrecognizable, and yet, in my new incarnation, very recognizable. There is no confusion as to who I am and what I stand for.

I leave the house with praise for the Guru on my lips, a swagger in my gait and a new challenge in my eyes. I am proud to be a Khalsa.

 

IN RETROSPECT

The one persistent question I have faced from friends (Sikh and non-Sikh) is WHY?  Some wondered if it was an identity crisis or a religious awakening. Or was I trying to get attention? My family really did not care much about my inner motivation. What mattered most to them was to celebrate the return of a prodigal son.

There may be an element of truth in all these reactions and observations, but even if taken together, they miss the point. The only way I can describe my motivation is that I wanted to eschew half measures and adopt a total way of life, namely that of a Khalsa. This required the cultivation of a certain moral, social, political and aesthetic attitude; an attachment to a certain liturgy and appreciation for certain kinds of feelings associated with the religion. What spurred me on remains a bit of a mystery and I can only explain it as the Guru's Grace (Nadar).

The adoption of the Khalsa insignia, while indispensable, is only one dimension of the Khalsa Rehat. It must be anchored in an equally important - if not more - internal Rehat, or Atam Ki Rehat, as it is referred to in Gurbani. The inner Rehat provides the framework and basis for authentic and radical transformation through an apprenticeship to the Guru.

I have come to appreciate the deep and symbiotic relationship between these two dimensions of the Rehat. Each influences, instructs and sheds light on the other through a dialectic that is not readily apparent, but must imbue the life of a Khalsa.  

In 2001, a breakthrough experience caused me to develop an even a keener appreciation of the mind-altering power of religious symbols. While I had read about the unconscious and wider meanings of religious symbols, I never experienced firsthand how they can lead the mind to experience Reality in fundamentally different ways. 

In the aftermath of 9/11, like other recognizable Sikhs, I was subjected to some unwanted  -  and unwelcome  -  attention. In a moment of self-doubt and fear, I questioned the Guru's rationale for prescribing such a visible external identity and deliberately putting us (read "me") in harm's way.

As if the Guru were responding, events in Sikh history began to race through my mind: I recalled the refusal of Sikhs to recognize and claim Guru Tegh Bahadar's body for fear of meeting a similar fate and hiding behind the mask of anonymity. In contrast, the boldness with which Sikhs like Bhai Taru Singh asserted their identity in the face of certain death, stood out. Both fear and defiance mixed in a strange amalgamation within me.

I wanted to be anonymous so people would not notice me, and yet, I felt challenged to stand out.

Gradually, I recognized that my outer appearance had forced me to confront and come to grips with that most primal of fears, death. I had no choice but to meet that fear head-on and in so doing, resolve that fear. I am much better prepared for death. This was a most powerful and liberating experience. I cannot think of a more effective therapy for our neurosis.

The incident taught me that the Guru does not teach directly, but instructs through the use of symbol, metaphor and poetry.

The decision to become a Khalsa must remain an intensely private one. It requires an unflinching commitment to be a spiritual warrior, a lion of the spirit, fearless, ready to walk beyond the margins of belief into uncharted territory.  The Khalsa way places a premium on visibility and is a constant reminder that a Khalsa marches to the beat of a different drummer. I tell my non-Sikh friends that one look at me should tell you that a Khalsa is a non-conformist who is unafraid to stand out; in short, very unlikely to follow the herd.

Truly, a Khalsa is "Nirala".

 

March 16, 2008

Conversation about this article

1: I.J. Singh (New York, U.S.A.), March 16, 2008, 6:44 PM.

A wonderful tale exquisitely rendered, of stepping on the path less traveled. The Khalsa way does what it is meant to do - put one on the path of introspection, that remains a lifelong but primary process towards self-realization.

2: Jessi Kaur (California, U.S.A.), March 17, 2008, 12:00 AM.

Congratulations, Ravinder. There is no doubt that it is only Guruâ??s â??nadarâ?? that puts us on the path of Sikhi. For those that have unraveled the mystery, there is no dichotomy between the internal and external commitment. For each one of us, the journey continues. I see my beloved Guruâ??s love as all-embracing as he awaits our coming home to him. Thanks for sharing your inspirational story. It would have been great to see a â??beforeâ?? and â??afterâ?? photograph.

3: Tejwant (U.S.A.), March 17, 2008, 11:03 AM.

Ravinder: That is what the Sikhi journey based on Gurmat ideals is all about. It morphs us from a caterpillar to a butterfly. Now, it would be much easier for your out-standings to stand out.

4: Chintan Singh (San Jose, U.S.A.), March 17, 2008, 1:53 PM.

A wonderful personal account describing one's spiritual transformation. I must confess that two days after the tragic events of 9/11, I wore a baseball cap over my patka to my evening college class instead of my full turban. Wearing a cap that day made me look at myself in shame in the mirror and I asked myself as to what kind of Khalsa I was. I also want to express pride in the fact that I too enjoy matching my turban as closely as possible with my daily wardrobe and I have received so many compliments from colleagues for being so well color coordinated. The other day, the V.P. of Sales in our company met me in the hallway and was jokingly suggesting that we can open a business of turbans to meet my needs! Furthermore, many non-Sikhs at work and outside have expressed admiration to me for making a commitment to my faith. In fact, during potential job interviews, I have received this kind of admiration. My previous employer in fact picked my resume for the interview because he thought the position would require someone with high moral character and values, and my last name "Singh" conveyed to him that I was a Sikh. It turned out that he had immense respect for Sikhs due to their commitment to justice for all, for being able to stand out in a crowd of thousands and be willing to put their life on the line to help others. Based on the above experiences, I try to remind me of how blessed I am for being picked up by the Guru to be his Sikh. I have had lengthy discussions with my family and friends in India and tried to clear their myth of Sikhs not being treated appropriately in the West. I think it is in fact the opposite.

5: Darashpreet Singh (Los Angeles, CA, U.S.A.), March 17, 2008, 4:11 PM.

This article is nothing short of inspirational. "Uche Sirr Sardaran De!"

6: Satvir Kaur (Boston, MA, U.S.A.), March 18, 2008, 8:07 AM.

What an inspiration! People ask me that question too ... about why I chose to ... and for some reason I don't have an answer. It is strange that I can't think of a reason why I so wanted to. I fought with half of my family over this. They were worried about finding a husband for an amritdhari girl. It's been about a year now ... I'm working on my inner and outer rehat. Everyday brings new changes. I'm thankful for this mehr of the Guru. I feel blessed.

7: Bhupinder Singh Ghai (New Delhi, India), March 18, 2008, 8:44 AM.

Sikh saroop gives you instant recongnition and well deserved respect. Remember, we are called Sardars and Sardarnis by the non-Sikhs. All the westerners I've had dealings with respect us. I have a buyer from NY who only deals with Sikhs in India becuase he believes they uniquely honor their commitments. It also acts as a restraint in doing things we should not be doing ... like smoking, for example. A friend of my brother went to NY and came back w/o his turban. The same excuse of being bullied, etc., but when I questioned him why he started smoking, he had no answer. He would have never thought of smoking if he had had his turban.

8: H.Kaur (U.S.A.), March 18, 2008, 3:49 PM.

Beautiful article. Truly inspirational. To take it a step further and provide more insight into why the five K's are not merely symbols, I recommend visiting this site: www.sikhs.org/nosymbol.htm

9: Poonam Kaur (Columbus, Ohio, U.S.A.), March 18, 2008, 8:48 PM.

Dear Ravinder: Having known you now for ten years, I can only say that you are a great source of inspiration for all your friends. And your beautiful dastar, as mentioned in the article, is always well-tied and color coordinated! You are truly blessed in so many ways ...

10: Harpreet Singh (Cambridge, MA, U.S.A.), March 22, 2008, 9:25 PM.

An inspiring personal journey that takes seriously the different dimensions of the Rehat. As Guru Nanak describes this attitude: mane ki gat kahi na jaye (The potency of faith is beyond the descriptive power of words).

11: Sahej (Ludhiana, India), March 25, 2008, 1:21 PM.

I really wish that people in Punjab could also find the real meaning of Khalsa just as you did. Or maybe, should I say, the "real self"? Anyway, congratulations to you on your rebirth ... GurFateh!

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