Sikhs and Swords

Harry and I rush, like fools, into the stuff of rebellions. Smack bang, face-first … hurt and angry young men rise from the ground and stop us …

We ride peacefully in the agricultural region of the Punjab. Then out of the blue, clusters of branches lie across the road. They stretch-out and alternate from the left, then from the right, at ten metre intervals. This is no place for cars but other motorbikes (piki-pikis) zigzag along merrily. We follow, albeit double the weight and double the width!

Then branches become trunks become full-on trees. Tall trees, still green with foliage, dropped flat on their backs. Trunks, still moist from axe cuts, double over. Harry and I struggle, on our over-size bikes … over branches, under trunks, around uprooted road edges. It feels wrong. We are no longer part of the local piki-piki passing trade. Bunch after bunch of guys halt Harry, halt me. They shout angry words we don’t understand. We explain, ‘South Africa’, ‘touring India’. Some want us to go back. Others urge us to go on, quickly. All wear turbans and more and more carry swords. It knots our tummies …. but clears our minds. These are all hallmarks of the Sikh Religion! It must be a religious protest. Did hurt, breed anger, fell trees to paralyse this road?

Harry and I haggle our way through what seems like two kilometres. At a makeshift shelter, they order ‘engines off’. We leg-paddle our shit-heavy bikes past this ‘dude in a trance’. My fearless Harry even has the nerve to stop and snap this guru with his helmet camera! A little later, a clear patch, and we see a bridge stretch over a river. On the other side a crowd circles us again.

It seems okay to be curious now. They flood us with questions; about the GPS, the two fuel tanks, top speed, where we come from, where we are going. We tease about the cricket (SA won!). They explain how they find their Sikh Holy Book torn in the streets by ‘old enemies’. This is a peaceful demonstration and their Guru (the ‘dude in a trance’) is here to support them. They speak and we listen, with care. They usher a little boy before us. He sings with the zeal of a warrior. We tell of our visit to the Sikh’s Golden Temple in Amrister two days earlier; of our walk with pilgrims around the Pool of Nectar to the golden Inner Sanctum itself. Two bowls of tea, with buckets of sugar, find us. A turban wraps around Harry’s head and a shawl falls to my shoulders. Solidarity! Swords up and Calls for Justice! For every sword there is a cellphone … and they snap us up! We cry for photos too … and our camera disappears in the crowd and returns with 8 perfect pictures.

We tear ourselves away. And on the road our vital signs return to normal … kind of.

Hey – what is this!

Other bikes manage to get around ….

… so we follow …

… although they are half the size and half the weight!

These guys shout for us to ‘go back’!

This friendlier bunch of guys urge us to ‘go on’!

We crouch down below this one!

Here we are ordered to ‘shut our engines off’. In the far right corner … there seems to be a Holy Man in a meditative state.

On the otherside Harry starts conversing with some guys. He gets to hold a sword while they check out his bike.

Cellphones come out to snap the bike. Harry is snapping back with the helmet camera (without their knowing) … see the swords and sheathes in the foreground.

… cellphones, swords and spears again …

Here they beckon Harry to join me … in the midst of my own interesting encouter.

…

Here come the bowls full of tea.

We sound each other out …

…

… and feel solidarity!

…

Here Harry gets a turban and I get a shawl, with a proud Sikh Sword between us!

The little guy Harry is reaching out to is the singer.

At the next internet spot we pound google to discover ….

Sikhs find a hundred pages of their Holy Book desecrated in the street of a village. Tensions mount and two people die in a police firing. Sikh men block a 2 km stretch of road in angry protest. A Sikh guru, the police commissioner and politicians arrive. And yeah, then Harry and I blunder along ….

We also find out …

It’s a farmer who founds Sikhism in the 15th century. He is against the caste system and the unthinking worship of gods prevalent in India. His followers call him Guru Nanak and they campaign for equality. What’s not to like! Today, Sikhs believe in one god and keep pictures of 10 gurus only as points of focus. Almost 2% of Indians are Sikh and most live in Punjab.

Sikhs don’t always have an easy time of it. In 1984, Prime Minister Indira Gandhi is murdered by her two body guards …. Sikhs. The backlash is disastrous. Mobs turn against Sikhs …. kill thousands, destroy temples, loot properties. Sikhs vanish from the streets, shed their turbans, cut their hair and shave their beards. Tens of thousands flee to hastily put together refugee camps. Reports also pour in of Hindus coming to the rescue of Sikhs, to save neighbours, to save friends.

Harry and I visit the Sikh’s holiest shrine, the Golden Temple in Amritsar. Pilgrims, from across the world, come to bathe in its sacred waters and walk around the temple. We walk and absorb this Pilgrimage of a Sikh.

Harry takes these photos.

This is the Sikh’s holiest shrine … the Golden Temple in Amritser.

The gleaming central Shrine (gilded with 750 kg of gold) is surrounded by the Pool of Nectar (with it’s healing powers).

…

…

… some take a rest along the way …

… to reach the causeway that leads to the Temple.

This is the causeway and it takes us more than an hour to reach the temple. I’m the one with the striped orange shawl.

At the end of the causeway, this dome.

And the inner Sanctum where priests and musicians keep up a continuous chant from the Sikh’s Holy Book.

Here we are on top of the GOLDEN temple.