Poetry
Fellow Traveler
INNI KAUR
I was early. It's the story of my life. I so hate being late that I always end up early to every appointment.
I was reading a book as I waited at the Delhi Golf Club for friends.
“Is that you, Inni Kaur?”
I looked up and saw a man in his late sixties walking towards me. I didn't know him.
He saw my puzzled look.
“No, you don’t know me. But come and have a drink with me,” he says.
He senses my hesitation.
“I’m pretty harmless.”
I leave a message at the front desk and follow him.
He orders his drink. A single malt with soda and 4 cubes of ice.
“A straight club soda with no ice and no lemon,” I add.
He laughs.
Our drinks arrive.
“Cheers, to your good health,” he says as he raises his glass.
My glass is still on the table.
He looks at it.
“Cheers, to my prison,” he says and gulps down his drink.
I watch in silence.
This is his drama. I'm a mere witness.
“The world sees me as a very successful businessman. And that I am. I should rejoice at my success. But I don’t. I hide my pain behind this very fine single malt. You should try it some time.”
He orders another drink.
He looks me in the eye and says, “I was a Sikh. In 1984, I cut my hair.”
I quiver. My eyes fall.
“My life was not in any real danger. But I thought it was. Maybe the events of 1984 were the excuse that I needed to do what I wanted to do. Faith was never my strong suit. So, why then do I feel like a thief in my own house? Why do I sleep with the lights on?”
His eyes beg for answers.
I have none.
“I am a body drowning in liquor. I don’t think I have any real friends.”
The waiter refills his glass.
I feel his despair.
“Your poem, “The Song of the Nightingale: Love and Wisdom,” touched me deeply. I printed it out and read it every night. The last lines of the poem linger in my sleep – “Find your Beloved within.” Tell me, Inni Kaur, is it possible for me to find my Beloved within?”
My eyes mist. I see a tormented soul.
“The House of Nanak is non-judgmental. It is compassionate. It is abundant. Take the first step and Guru will embrace you.”
My friends have arrived. He sees them too.
“Our meeting was destined. So, Inni Kaur, will you pray for me?” he asks as I get up.
“It is Hukam that we met. You and I are both blessed. Realize it and experience the Beloved within. Look after yourself,” I say as I take my leave.
“Who is that?” ask my friends, as I greet them.
“A fellow-traveler,” I reply.
* * * * *
Dear fellow-traveler:
Bhai Vir Singh’s poem, Hazuri, comes to mind when I think of you.
Know that you are in my prayers.
GurFateh.
Inni Kaur
PRESENCE - HAZURI
Friends, He did not come.
But, His Presence
He, Himself sent.
Himself He
Made me Present.
Tenderly, movingly
Fervently, passionately.
Himself He
Made me Present
Within
The Presence.
Nearer than near
Closer than close.
Distance erased
Distance removed.
See
My Beloved’s greatness.
Distance erased
Distance removed.
[The author serves on the Board of the Sikh Research Institute. She is also the author of a children's book series, Journey with the Gurus – www.journeywiththegurus.com]
December 4, 2012
Conversation about this article
1: S Singh (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia), December 05, 2012, 1:37 AM.
Well met, surely.
2: Parminder Kaur Dhillon (Raleigh, North Carolina, USA), December 05, 2012, 2:25 AM.
Beautiful!
3: Baldev Singh (Bradford, United Kingdom), December 05, 2012, 10:33 AM.
Inni Kaur's encounter here is indeed very special.
4: Gurmeet Kaur (Atlanta, Georgia, USA), December 05, 2012, 12:47 PM.
Fellow Traveler of Inni Kaur | Don't you drown in that malt anymore...| Sorry, I'm serious in my intentions | but, I am working on books for children | so can't help but say all things in a funny way.