Essence 7 – Her Story

We attended several more singing sessions – each one was more beautiful than the last.

One day, I came in from the fields and found my wife sleeping, her head was down on the table, and there were some papers in her hand. Without disturbing her I gently removed them and read what she had written.

She wrote,

Everything has been changing so suddenly, I don’t know who to tell, there is no one to tell, but I must tell someone, so I am just writing this to myself to try to organize my thoughts, to try to find some sense, to all the changes, recently in my life.

My husband had been acting so strangely, weeping and talking about sleep and death. Then he met this unusual man, Sat Kartar Singh. This man is a Sikh. He wears a beard, and has uncut hair which he keeps bound in a turban. After this meeting my husband was much calmer, less disturbed, and happy even, but still nothing has ever been normal again in the usual sense.

We went for Sat Kartar Singh’s home. The music was very beautiful. It wrenched my heart, and made me want to weep, I didn’t say anything, because I felt so strange, and the children’s father seemed so happy I didn’t want to break the spell.

A few days ago, we went to a Sikh gathering and it had the most unusual effect on me. It is hard to describe, but I must try. It has changed my whole life...

I met a very unusual woman there. She was a Sikh. I think she was the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life. Her face was radiant and glowed with such light. Her eyes had such depth, when I looked into them it was as though the universe opened up its mysteries to me.

This woman, Bibi ji, was unlike other woman. She sat quietly and greeted me quietly and softly. From the very first I was drawn to her. So many were staying at that gathering, she asked me to come and sleep with her and the other ladies. My husband joined the men, and children went off with others their own age.

Bibi ji slept completely covered with a black shawl. Or I was never sure that she was sleeping, she was so still. I found myself yearning to be like her. Like the Sikh men, she also kept her hair bound in a turban. I thought of all the women in my village, with their jewelry, makeup lipstick, and nail polish, none were as beautiful as Bibi ji. She had only 2 changes of clothes, very simple, one blue, and one white, and the ever present black shawl.

In the morning everyone began getting up very early, I heard strange sounds, as though there were many lovers, I was frightened and covered my face with my blanket. I slept very late. No one disturbed me.

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