Reader discretion advised - some of the battle scenes are quite bloody.
Mulling over the situation as they retreated, the Moghuls quickly realized that the main force of the Khalsa lay beyond the pass. They understood that the barrage of arrows had come from just a few in an effort to tire them out and slow them down. They sent out two scouts to get an assessment of the Khalsa's size and positions with instructions to report back as quickly as possible. The Khalsa, expert in this type of war tactics, easily intercepted the scouts.
After about an hour or so, the Moghuls realized the scouts would only be reporting to their maker, and would not be coming back. Frustrated, they needed water quickly otherwise their mission would miserably fail. An extremely impatient young Moghul captain told the chief commanding officer of the assault, an old Moghul general, "Sir, we should charge them. By my estimate they are no more than 50 men strong."
The old Moghul General, who had done his share of fighting with the Khalsa, sighed stating, "That's too many!"
The captain stared at him in disbelief, "Sir, fifty men is too many?!"
The General replied insisting, "50 of them are too many!"
The captain sneered disrespectfully and moved away. The General looked after him with distaste. The General had become more and more disillusioned with his men and with his superiors, who broke promise after promise to the Khalsa. Indeed it had been only a few days ago that the Guru had been promised a safe passage from the besieged Fort. But soon after his departure, the General had been ordered to pursue the Guru. Disgusted with such dishonorable behavior, he wished that he was somewhere else, fighting for a just cause.
The Moghuls capitulated, figuring each minute they lost, the Khalsa up ahead gained to rest and plan their defense around the lake (although in truth each minute took the Khalsa further and further from the reach of Moghul forces). They decided that they couldn't afford to give ground and would overwhelm the Khalsa by sheer brute force of numbers. The eager young captain was given the task of eliminating the small rogue band of Singhs no matter how high the cost of lives to his men.
The captain set fire to the brush along the pass to provide a smoke screen, flush out any Khalsa Scouts and force the others higher into the hills. He decided that the Singhs had to run out of arrows sooner or later. Since he had to lose men until they did, he figured he might as well sacrifice the inexperienced soldiers. He ordered two hundred young recruits to charge through the pass. He assumed the Khalsa wouldn't dare come out in the open to fight this large a force since it would be suicide for them.
The Moghuls forces charged through the pass without a single loss; cheering as they reached the other side. Thinking the smoke had given them all the protection they needed, they broke rank, riding in circles kicking up dust, whooping and hollering in relief.
The Khalsa anticipating this behavior, had mounted their horses and waited just out of sight. Almost out of arrows, they used up their remaining arrows ones taking careful aim. After knocking some sense into the foolhardy Moghuls, they charged the somber soldiers. The captain feeling very foolish for not predicting such a possibility hotly commanded a few dozen more men to join the fight. But there was yet another thing he hadn't predicted - the smoke had cleared making it a lot easier for the Singhs to use their arrows.
Seething, the enraged Captain sent yet a few dozen more men to root out the remaining Singhs from the trees. He needn't have bothered - the Singhs, their arrows spent and the cover of tree no longer of any use, came charging out on horseback.
The Singhs fought courageously but within two hours, more than half the Singhs and most of their horses had fallen.
So, as previously planned by Mai Bhago Jee, they banded into groups of five fighting hand-to-hand. They hoped to engage the enemy long enough for the Guru to get completely out harm's way. For another ninety minutes of relentless combat, the enemy's swords, arrows and spears whittled away at the valiant Khalsa. At last there remained only a small brave band of three Singhs, my husband one of them.
An arrow had struck his right shoulder and his bleeding arm hung uselessly at his side. Obviously in pain, he held his shield with his left hand. He and the other two Singhs crouched back to back; their shields blocking arrows which flew fast and furious from the Moghul hoard surrounding them.
The Moghul captain held up his hand to signal the archers to stop shooting. Quite clearly there could be no escape for the badly injured Singhs. The greedy captain's eyes squinted in anticipation of the glory he should receive could he capture the Khalsa. A feat so exceedingly rare, that it would undoubtedly catapult his career and his monetary worth to unknown heights. He called out to the Singhs, "The game is over for you! Throw away your shields. You have fought honorably, do not resist and you shall live!"
When no response or movement came from the Khalsa, a nerve-wracking silence pervaded the scene. The young Moghuls nervously shuffled their feet. This was the first time that the majority of them had seen the Khalsa up close. Deep within themselves a lot of them questioned their role in this "holy" war. The Khalsa did not look at all like the demons they had been described as. On the contrary, the Khalsa appeared noble, honorable and wholesome. The strength and the endurance of the Khalsa greatly inspired yet terrified them!
The Captain tried another tactic, "Now, now, we are all reasonable men here. I personally give you my word that I will let no harm befall you if you give up the fight. You may live to see many a fine day yet!"
Still, the three huddled Khalsa made no move to surrender. The impatient young captain worried that his precious prize might be slipping through his fingers. Perhaps the Singhs had already perished. Wondering what to do to break the stalemate, he unsheathed his sword and moved a little closer to take a look - an extremely fatal move for his career and his men!
The three surrounded Khalsa sprang up like tornadoes and several logic-defying events occurred instantaneously.
My husband threw his shield at the Captain with all his might bellowing "gurrrrrWAH!" - the motion made him lose his balance and he began to fall. The shield meanwhile hurtled spinning towards the Captain. He ducked, but it cut into his forehead with a loud "thud" snapping his neck with a sound clearly audible (as was the gulping of several young Moghul throats!) As he fell, the sword slipped out of his hand and landed in my falling husband's outstretched left hand!
In the meantime, the second Singh swung his shield towards a nearby Moghul on horseback who held an arrow in his right hand and a long spear in his left. The second Singh tripped over a fallen body and undershot his mark. The spinning shield ripped into the horse's neck, breaking it instantly. The beast stumbled, falling head-first jerking the Moghul forwards. He grabbed the horse's mane with his right hand to steady himself. When it hit the ground, the horses head bounced upwards so that the Moghul leader fell heavily onto his own arrow. It pierced his throat so swiftly that he did not even scream but crumbled silently. The spear bounced on the ground flying towards the Singh who grabbed it in midair!
The third Singh, virtually blind from blood streaming into his eyes, hurled his shield aimlessly. A Moghul saw it spinning towards him and dived onto the ground. It flew over his head. He breathed a sigh of relief rolling over to see where it went. Just as he turned to look, it struck a horse just behind him. The velocity of spinning shield had subsided somewhat. It bruised the beast but spooked it causing it to rear up in surprise. It jumped forward, its flailing hooves striking the surrounding men. The horse came down heavily stamping the ribs of fallen Moghul smashing them to bits. The Moghul's horrifying screams filled the air. He thrashed about waving his sword wildly before passing out and further terrifying the animal. Nostrils flaring, it reared up again. Loosing its balance it stumbled and fell backwards crashing heavily on its rider crushing him. His blood curdling cries further unnerved the surrounding soldiers. The blinded Singh staggered about groping with outstretched hands. Finding his very own sword thrust into a fallen Moghul, he pulled it free, and whirled it menacingly.
Everything occurred simultaneously; so swiftly and with such perfection that it even surprised the Singhs. They stood stunned for a split second not believing what had befallen them. In acting to avoid being captured alive, preferring death, life had been granted them.
The astonished young Moghuls, looked on open-mouthed, bewildered beyond action! They too could not believe what they had witnessed. Their leader had fallen. The Singhs who had been weaponless and all but finished a moment before, now ominously faced them brandishing weapons.
Dread and wonder descended on the troops silencing them. The second in command raised his sword to rally them.
They heard the "whoosh" of a gold-tipped arrow from Guru Gobind Singh jee. They watched it fly past hitting their new leader squarely in the chest. He dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. Completely unnerved, the Moghuls screamed in terror. "These are Gods, not men," they shouted. Running blindly in panic, they stumbled, clambering over each other rushing to get away from these immortal beings!
Revitalized, the three Singhs shouted energetically. "Dhan Guru! Dhan Guru!" Maybe, they hoped fervently, they had a chance to see the Guru after all and ask personally for his forgiveness. Perhaps they might even live to fight with him another day!
Wiping the blood from his eyes with his sleeve, the nearly blind Singh shouted at the other two to run for the cover of the trees. He chased after the fleeing Moghuls, stumbling and falling over dead humans and beasts. But the young Moghuls didn't look back to check on his progress. Hearts in their mouths, they wanted only to escape the baffling madness! They cursed the day they had joined the Moghul army and cursed their leaders for pitting them against such supernatural deathless creatures!
The Moghuls not directly engaged in the fight, had at first thought when the captain stopped the arrows that the ensuing quiet meant the Khalsa had been destroyed. They had turned their attention to other matters, such as counting their dead and planning their next move. When hearing the vocal outburst of jaikara, they assumed it to be the final battle cry of the defeated Khalsa. This proved to be only partially true. For there is no such thing as a "defeated Khalsa"! How could there be when? …
WaheGuru Ji Ka Khalsa, WaheGuru Ji Ki Fateh (The Khalsa belongs to WaheGuru, Victory belongs to WaheGuru)!
Observing a hundred or so of their comrades running away from a blinded Singh, they shook their heads wondering what went in the amrit that the Guru fed his Singhs!
I could see my husband and the other Singh nearing safety as they made their way to closer towards the cover of trees. I could not believe this change of fortune. I cheered them on, shouting with all my might, "Come on! Come on! Only a few feet more!" (I realized fully well that they couldn't hear me but I couldn't keep my excitement bottled up any longer!)
The old General quickly put together a team of expert archers and almost with regret gave them the orders to shoot down the Singhs. He thought to himself, "If only I had one of those Singhs on my side, I would have won all wars!" He wondered what the Guru of such lions would be like. He decided there and then that he was done with this barbaric war in which he had to shoot down such noble warriors. He resolved at the very least to go and meet the Guru as soon as he could. He'd heard of the Guru enemies who after going to see him out of curiosity ending up swearing their allegiance to him. Secretly, he hoped that he might be one of these.
Several arrows struck each Singh before they fell just inches from the shelter of the trees. Besides the arrows piercing my husband's body, he had received numerous cuts at every conceivable place which bled profusely. I felt sad and yet a kind of peace came over me that he had fought so valiantly. He had made the enemy pay dearly. He'd bought precious time for the Khalsa with his life. The thought that my Singh had gone down fighting with such valor lifted my spirits immensely. Mortal bodies must perish sometime - this is exactly how this one had always wanted to go! One against 125,000!
As I looked on, a light-form similar to mine, but much more brilliant, rose and departed from my husband's physical body. He checked out this new dimension of himself, grinning ecstatically! Then he noticed me and winked, "Woman, do you have to follow me everywhere?!" He came close to me, our lights merging.
After embracing me with his luminous form, he ascended, disappearing from my sight. Quite suddenly he returned, still in his brilliant form, but very definitely less ecstatic. He explained he had not been able go any higher because a Guru-less person cannot enter the finer realms! We looked around and we saw all of his party of Singhs in a similar state of dejection.
Down below, the Moghuls forces, after rejoicing in their "victory", moved on towards the lake bed gathering up their dead as they went. They left the Singh's bodies behind lying in the field. This time they proceeded with more caution, sending scouts on ahead to check for ambushes. The scouts soon came galloping back, "It's a trick! The lake is dry!" they shouted.
The remaining Moghul leaders huddled together. They decided to pull out. The Khalsa would have to be eliminated and their Guru captured or killed, another day, and by another group of Moghuls. They had run out of water; and supplies had dwindled. They had suffered humiliating losses. The soldiers' morale already dangerously low, continued to erode with each passing moment. The late hour of day meant darkness would be upon them. No sensible Moghul wanted to face the Khalsa at night! Their legendary uncanny ability to attack and seriously damage Moghul forces had been proven beyond a doubt by the afternoon events! No Moghul leader in his rightful mind wanted the responsibility spending a night even remotely close to a Khalsa encampment. So the old general gave the order to retreat.
The Singhs spirit bodies glowed brightly as they rejoiced realizing what an amazing feat they had helped to accomplish. Against all odds, because of the Singh's selfless sacrifice, the main body of Khalsa, had survived to live another day and fight another battle.
Somewhat uncertain about what would happen next my husband commented, "All is in WaheGuru's will." He used to passionately describe to me how he imagined it would be like in Sach Khand (The Realm of Truth); freedom from worldly care, continual keertan being sung in the presence of naam-imbued souls. Not impatient the least little bit; he knew that only ones who had been fully graced by a perfect Guru could go there. I understood how much he had been hoping to be one of those Sikhs. So we waited... I prayed silently for intervention. Somehow I knew something great would happen...
Miraculously we saw Guru Gobind Singh jee riding into the battlefield where our fallen warriors' bodies lay. I had seen the gloriously and incomparably beautiful Guru many times in my life. But in that moment he seemed perhaps a million times more beautiful.
In addition to viewing his earthly body, we also were blessed with a glimpse of his immaculate inner-self. I believed what I saw to be his soul; although I am ignorant of such matters and unable to distinguish between a soul and light-forms such as we had become. Absolutely stunning to behold, the Guru emanated pure light white as milk. My husband had told me of seeing light within during meditation, brighter than a thousand yellow suns. But his description paled beside the True Guru's radiance.
Around the Guru's brilliance, revolved the living luminosity of millions beings who had chosen to serve the Guru. At a subtle level they circled the Guru twinkling in ecstasy and in awe. Outside the immediate radius of light orbited the glow of beings in human form. These seemed to be naami Sikhs, who after their physical deaths retained their Earthly shapes to stay and watch over the Guru. No worldly words could do justice to the luster of the light illuminating their Naam-imbued faces.
I silently bowed to the Guru and thanked him profusely for allowing me to view him in this way. Stunned, all of the Singhs bowed deeply to the Guru's luminous brilliance. I might have only imagined it but it seemed as though the Guru also gave a slight nod in our direction. I *wanted* a face like the naami sikhs surrounding the Guru. The importance of my previous existence diminished. I knew from that point on, everything would be different. My remaining life's goal would be to get immersed in the light of Naam.
Surveying the battlefield where his fallen ones lay, the Guru jumped down from his horse. He strode quickly to Mai Bhago jee and knelt by her side. Badly wounded but alive, we could hear her moaning "Dhan Guru, Dhan Guru" softly. He gave her water. She opened her eyes to look up at him with wonder. She, like most of us, had never seen him so close before. I could tell from her eyes that she found him breathtakingly beautiful.
His lips drew back in a gentle smile and he exclaimed, "Wah! Khalsa Jee! Wah! You have surpassed my expectations! Ask Guru Nanak for anything and you shall receive it!"
Mai Jee humbly joined her hands, "Sire, I wish to spend the remaining breaths that you have bestowed upon me to serve you and you only."
The Guru's put his hand on her head and blessed her, "Like the moon lights up the way for lost night-travelers, your name will guide and inspire generations to come in this dark age of Kalyug!" He instructed the Sevadaar accompanying him to tend to her wounds and needs.
He then walked to one of the Singh's body. He tenderly turned the bloodied lifeless Singh's face towards him and wiped it with his hand saying, "Wah Singh jee! Wah! You are my 5 hazari! – Honour, Tribulation, Exaltation, Accepted Servant and Dearest Companion." Immediately, the Singh's luminous floating body immensely brightened by maybe five thousand times.
One by one, the Guru took all the fallen Singh's faces in his blessed hands and graced them with gifts that our minds could not comprehend. My husband too received his blessing. Not only did he brighten up but the intensity of my luminous body also increased.
At last he walked over to a body and sat down. Gently he raised the Jathedaar's head and pillowed it on his lap. He turned the Jathedaar's face towards his and wiped it lovingly with his hand; clearing off the dried blood and debris. To all our surprise, the Jathedaar opened his eyes and looked at the Guru's face. He spoke in wonder, "My love! I have found you once more. How beautiful you look in Sach Khand!"
He lifted his hand and touched the Guru's face, stroking it gently with immense love. "Never will I leave you again; you just watch! There is no escape for you now!"
The Guru smiled and kissed the Jathedaar's hand. The Guru's kiss made the Jathedaar aware of his Earthly surroundings. He realized that he was touching the face of the One who is the Lord of this and the unseen world. Quickly he withdrew his hand, thinking he had been too forward with his brash behavior.
Looking at him with love, the Guru lifted the Jathedaar's hand back to his face and held it there pressed against him. The Guru spoke, "You have done well, my precious son! Guru Nanak is pleased with your Sikhi - ask for anything and you shall receive it!"
A tear formed in the Jathedaar's eyes. His voice quivered as he pleaded, "I ask for one thing only, my Sire. Please oh please, tear up the decree! And tell me that I am yours and that you are mine again."
The Guru removed the decree from his waist band. As I watched from above, a great lump arose in my throat. An ache crept over me, I wanted to weep profusely in sorrow and cry aloud with joy all at once. The Singhs moved beyond words, looked on in wonder. The Guru had held on to this dastardly piece of paper and kept it safe even in the battlefield where one keeps only what is most precious.
An immense longing took hold of me and then relief flooded my being as he tore it up into several pieces and threw it into the wind. The Gurus engaged the Jethadaar's eyes with his compassionate gaze as the pieces lazily floated away.
The Jathedaar smiled. He tried to join his two hands to say thank you, or perhaps to say Fateh, for at that very moment, his head fell backwards. We watched his immensely brilliant soul take leave of his body.
My husband turned to me. He smiled, and then disappeared. My heart told me that he had been finally accepted into the dimension that Guru Nanak calls the Realm of Truth.
Mulling over the situation as they retreated, the Moghuls quickly realized that the main force of the Khalsa lay beyond the pass. They understood that the barrage of arrows had come from just a few in an effort to tire them out and slow them down. They sent out two scouts to get an assessment of the Khalsa's size and positions with instructions to report back as quickly as possible. The Khalsa, expert in this type of war tactics, easily intercepted the scouts.
After about an hour or so, the Moghuls realized the scouts would only be reporting to their maker, and would not be coming back. Frustrated, they needed water quickly otherwise their mission would miserably fail. An extremely impatient young Moghul captain told the chief commanding officer of the assault, an old Moghul general, "Sir, we should charge them. By my estimate they are no more than 50 men strong."
The old Moghul General, who had done his share of fighting with the Khalsa, sighed stating, "That's too many!"
The captain stared at him in disbelief, "Sir, fifty men is too many?!"
The General replied insisting, "50 of them are too many!"
The captain sneered disrespectfully and moved away. The General looked after him with distaste. The General had become more and more disillusioned with his men and with his superiors, who broke promise after promise to the Khalsa. Indeed it had been only a few days ago that the Guru had been promised a safe passage from the besieged Fort. But soon after his departure, the General had been ordered to pursue the Guru. Disgusted with such dishonorable behavior, he wished that he was somewhere else, fighting for a just cause.
The Moghuls capitulated, figuring each minute they lost, the Khalsa up ahead gained to rest and plan their defense around the lake (although in truth each minute took the Khalsa further and further from the reach of Moghul forces). They decided that they couldn't afford to give ground and would overwhelm the Khalsa by sheer brute force of numbers. The eager young captain was given the task of eliminating the small rogue band of Singhs no matter how high the cost of lives to his men.
The captain set fire to the brush along the pass to provide a smoke screen, flush out any Khalsa Scouts and force the others higher into the hills. He decided that the Singhs had to run out of arrows sooner or later. Since he had to lose men until they did, he figured he might as well sacrifice the inexperienced soldiers. He ordered two hundred young recruits to charge through the pass. He assumed the Khalsa wouldn't dare come out in the open to fight this large a force since it would be suicide for them.
The Moghuls forces charged through the pass without a single loss; cheering as they reached the other side. Thinking the smoke had given them all the protection they needed, they broke rank, riding in circles kicking up dust, whooping and hollering in relief.
The Khalsa anticipating this behavior, had mounted their horses and waited just out of sight. Almost out of arrows, they used up their remaining arrows ones taking careful aim. After knocking some sense into the foolhardy Moghuls, they charged the somber soldiers. The captain feeling very foolish for not predicting such a possibility hotly commanded a few dozen more men to join the fight. But there was yet another thing he hadn't predicted - the smoke had cleared making it a lot easier for the Singhs to use their arrows.
Seething, the enraged Captain sent yet a few dozen more men to root out the remaining Singhs from the trees. He needn't have bothered - the Singhs, their arrows spent and the cover of tree no longer of any use, came charging out on horseback.
The Singhs fought courageously but within two hours, more than half the Singhs and most of their horses had fallen.
So, as previously planned by Mai Bhago Jee, they banded into groups of five fighting hand-to-hand. They hoped to engage the enemy long enough for the Guru to get completely out harm's way. For another ninety minutes of relentless combat, the enemy's swords, arrows and spears whittled away at the valiant Khalsa. At last there remained only a small brave band of three Singhs, my husband one of them.
An arrow had struck his right shoulder and his bleeding arm hung uselessly at his side. Obviously in pain, he held his shield with his left hand. He and the other two Singhs crouched back to back; their shields blocking arrows which flew fast and furious from the Moghul hoard surrounding them.
The Moghul captain held up his hand to signal the archers to stop shooting. Quite clearly there could be no escape for the badly injured Singhs. The greedy captain's eyes squinted in anticipation of the glory he should receive could he capture the Khalsa. A feat so exceedingly rare, that it would undoubtedly catapult his career and his monetary worth to unknown heights. He called out to the Singhs, "The game is over for you! Throw away your shields. You have fought honorably, do not resist and you shall live!"
When no response or movement came from the Khalsa, a nerve-wracking silence pervaded the scene. The young Moghuls nervously shuffled their feet. This was the first time that the majority of them had seen the Khalsa up close. Deep within themselves a lot of them questioned their role in this "holy" war. The Khalsa did not look at all like the demons they had been described as. On the contrary, the Khalsa appeared noble, honorable and wholesome. The strength and the endurance of the Khalsa greatly inspired yet terrified them!
The Captain tried another tactic, "Now, now, we are all reasonable men here. I personally give you my word that I will let no harm befall you if you give up the fight. You may live to see many a fine day yet!"
Still, the three huddled Khalsa made no move to surrender. The impatient young captain worried that his precious prize might be slipping through his fingers. Perhaps the Singhs had already perished. Wondering what to do to break the stalemate, he unsheathed his sword and moved a little closer to take a look - an extremely fatal move for his career and his men!
The three surrounded Khalsa sprang up like tornadoes and several logic-defying events occurred instantaneously.
My husband threw his shield at the Captain with all his might bellowing "gurrrrrWAH!" - the motion made him lose his balance and he began to fall. The shield meanwhile hurtled spinning towards the Captain. He ducked, but it cut into his forehead with a loud "thud" snapping his neck with a sound clearly audible (as was the gulping of several young Moghul throats!) As he fell, the sword slipped out of his hand and landed in my falling husband's outstretched left hand!
In the meantime, the second Singh swung his shield towards a nearby Moghul on horseback who held an arrow in his right hand and a long spear in his left. The second Singh tripped over a fallen body and undershot his mark. The spinning shield ripped into the horse's neck, breaking it instantly. The beast stumbled, falling head-first jerking the Moghul forwards. He grabbed the horse's mane with his right hand to steady himself. When it hit the ground, the horses head bounced upwards so that the Moghul leader fell heavily onto his own arrow. It pierced his throat so swiftly that he did not even scream but crumbled silently. The spear bounced on the ground flying towards the Singh who grabbed it in midair!
The third Singh, virtually blind from blood streaming into his eyes, hurled his shield aimlessly. A Moghul saw it spinning towards him and dived onto the ground. It flew over his head. He breathed a sigh of relief rolling over to see where it went. Just as he turned to look, it struck a horse just behind him. The velocity of spinning shield had subsided somewhat. It bruised the beast but spooked it causing it to rear up in surprise. It jumped forward, its flailing hooves striking the surrounding men. The horse came down heavily stamping the ribs of fallen Moghul smashing them to bits. The Moghul's horrifying screams filled the air. He thrashed about waving his sword wildly before passing out and further terrifying the animal. Nostrils flaring, it reared up again. Loosing its balance it stumbled and fell backwards crashing heavily on its rider crushing him. His blood curdling cries further unnerved the surrounding soldiers. The blinded Singh staggered about groping with outstretched hands. Finding his very own sword thrust into a fallen Moghul, he pulled it free, and whirled it menacingly.
Everything occurred simultaneously; so swiftly and with such perfection that it even surprised the Singhs. They stood stunned for a split second not believing what had befallen them. In acting to avoid being captured alive, preferring death, life had been granted them.
The astonished young Moghuls, looked on open-mouthed, bewildered beyond action! They too could not believe what they had witnessed. Their leader had fallen. The Singhs who had been weaponless and all but finished a moment before, now ominously faced them brandishing weapons.
Dread and wonder descended on the troops silencing them. The second in command raised his sword to rally them.
They heard the "whoosh" of a gold-tipped arrow from Guru Gobind Singh jee. They watched it fly past hitting their new leader squarely in the chest. He dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. Completely unnerved, the Moghuls screamed in terror. "These are Gods, not men," they shouted. Running blindly in panic, they stumbled, clambering over each other rushing to get away from these immortal beings!
Revitalized, the three Singhs shouted energetically. "Dhan Guru! Dhan Guru!" Maybe, they hoped fervently, they had a chance to see the Guru after all and ask personally for his forgiveness. Perhaps they might even live to fight with him another day!
Wiping the blood from his eyes with his sleeve, the nearly blind Singh shouted at the other two to run for the cover of the trees. He chased after the fleeing Moghuls, stumbling and falling over dead humans and beasts. But the young Moghuls didn't look back to check on his progress. Hearts in their mouths, they wanted only to escape the baffling madness! They cursed the day they had joined the Moghul army and cursed their leaders for pitting them against such supernatural deathless creatures!
The Moghuls not directly engaged in the fight, had at first thought when the captain stopped the arrows that the ensuing quiet meant the Khalsa had been destroyed. They had turned their attention to other matters, such as counting their dead and planning their next move. When hearing the vocal outburst of jaikara, they assumed it to be the final battle cry of the defeated Khalsa. This proved to be only partially true. For there is no such thing as a "defeated Khalsa"! How could there be when? …
WaheGuru Ji Ka Khalsa, WaheGuru Ji Ki Fateh (The Khalsa belongs to WaheGuru, Victory belongs to WaheGuru)!
Observing a hundred or so of their comrades running away from a blinded Singh, they shook their heads wondering what went in the amrit that the Guru fed his Singhs!
I could see my husband and the other Singh nearing safety as they made their way to closer towards the cover of trees. I could not believe this change of fortune. I cheered them on, shouting with all my might, "Come on! Come on! Only a few feet more!" (I realized fully well that they couldn't hear me but I couldn't keep my excitement bottled up any longer!)
The old General quickly put together a team of expert archers and almost with regret gave them the orders to shoot down the Singhs. He thought to himself, "If only I had one of those Singhs on my side, I would have won all wars!" He wondered what the Guru of such lions would be like. He decided there and then that he was done with this barbaric war in which he had to shoot down such noble warriors. He resolved at the very least to go and meet the Guru as soon as he could. He'd heard of the Guru enemies who after going to see him out of curiosity ending up swearing their allegiance to him. Secretly, he hoped that he might be one of these.
Several arrows struck each Singh before they fell just inches from the shelter of the trees. Besides the arrows piercing my husband's body, he had received numerous cuts at every conceivable place which bled profusely. I felt sad and yet a kind of peace came over me that he had fought so valiantly. He had made the enemy pay dearly. He'd bought precious time for the Khalsa with his life. The thought that my Singh had gone down fighting with such valor lifted my spirits immensely. Mortal bodies must perish sometime - this is exactly how this one had always wanted to go! One against 125,000!
As I looked on, a light-form similar to mine, but much more brilliant, rose and departed from my husband's physical body. He checked out this new dimension of himself, grinning ecstatically! Then he noticed me and winked, "Woman, do you have to follow me everywhere?!" He came close to me, our lights merging.
After embracing me with his luminous form, he ascended, disappearing from my sight. Quite suddenly he returned, still in his brilliant form, but very definitely less ecstatic. He explained he had not been able go any higher because a Guru-less person cannot enter the finer realms! We looked around and we saw all of his party of Singhs in a similar state of dejection.
Down below, the Moghuls forces, after rejoicing in their "victory", moved on towards the lake bed gathering up their dead as they went. They left the Singh's bodies behind lying in the field. This time they proceeded with more caution, sending scouts on ahead to check for ambushes. The scouts soon came galloping back, "It's a trick! The lake is dry!" they shouted.
The remaining Moghul leaders huddled together. They decided to pull out. The Khalsa would have to be eliminated and their Guru captured or killed, another day, and by another group of Moghuls. They had run out of water; and supplies had dwindled. They had suffered humiliating losses. The soldiers' morale already dangerously low, continued to erode with each passing moment. The late hour of day meant darkness would be upon them. No sensible Moghul wanted to face the Khalsa at night! Their legendary uncanny ability to attack and seriously damage Moghul forces had been proven beyond a doubt by the afternoon events! No Moghul leader in his rightful mind wanted the responsibility spending a night even remotely close to a Khalsa encampment. So the old general gave the order to retreat.
The Singhs spirit bodies glowed brightly as they rejoiced realizing what an amazing feat they had helped to accomplish. Against all odds, because of the Singh's selfless sacrifice, the main body of Khalsa, had survived to live another day and fight another battle.
Somewhat uncertain about what would happen next my husband commented, "All is in WaheGuru's will." He used to passionately describe to me how he imagined it would be like in Sach Khand (The Realm of Truth); freedom from worldly care, continual keertan being sung in the presence of naam-imbued souls. Not impatient the least little bit; he knew that only ones who had been fully graced by a perfect Guru could go there. I understood how much he had been hoping to be one of those Sikhs. So we waited... I prayed silently for intervention. Somehow I knew something great would happen...
Miraculously we saw Guru Gobind Singh jee riding into the battlefield where our fallen warriors' bodies lay. I had seen the gloriously and incomparably beautiful Guru many times in my life. But in that moment he seemed perhaps a million times more beautiful.
In addition to viewing his earthly body, we also were blessed with a glimpse of his immaculate inner-self. I believed what I saw to be his soul; although I am ignorant of such matters and unable to distinguish between a soul and light-forms such as we had become. Absolutely stunning to behold, the Guru emanated pure light white as milk. My husband had told me of seeing light within during meditation, brighter than a thousand yellow suns. But his description paled beside the True Guru's radiance.
Around the Guru's brilliance, revolved the living luminosity of millions beings who had chosen to serve the Guru. At a subtle level they circled the Guru twinkling in ecstasy and in awe. Outside the immediate radius of light orbited the glow of beings in human form. These seemed to be naami Sikhs, who after their physical deaths retained their Earthly shapes to stay and watch over the Guru. No worldly words could do justice to the luster of the light illuminating their Naam-imbued faces.
I silently bowed to the Guru and thanked him profusely for allowing me to view him in this way. Stunned, all of the Singhs bowed deeply to the Guru's luminous brilliance. I might have only imagined it but it seemed as though the Guru also gave a slight nod in our direction. I *wanted* a face like the naami sikhs surrounding the Guru. The importance of my previous existence diminished. I knew from that point on, everything would be different. My remaining life's goal would be to get immersed in the light of Naam.
Surveying the battlefield where his fallen ones lay, the Guru jumped down from his horse. He strode quickly to Mai Bhago jee and knelt by her side. Badly wounded but alive, we could hear her moaning "Dhan Guru, Dhan Guru" softly. He gave her water. She opened her eyes to look up at him with wonder. She, like most of us, had never seen him so close before. I could tell from her eyes that she found him breathtakingly beautiful.
His lips drew back in a gentle smile and he exclaimed, "Wah! Khalsa Jee! Wah! You have surpassed my expectations! Ask Guru Nanak for anything and you shall receive it!"
Mai Jee humbly joined her hands, "Sire, I wish to spend the remaining breaths that you have bestowed upon me to serve you and you only."
The Guru's put his hand on her head and blessed her, "Like the moon lights up the way for lost night-travelers, your name will guide and inspire generations to come in this dark age of Kalyug!" He instructed the Sevadaar accompanying him to tend to her wounds and needs.
He then walked to one of the Singh's body. He tenderly turned the bloodied lifeless Singh's face towards him and wiped it with his hand saying, "Wah Singh jee! Wah! You are my 5 hazari! – Honour, Tribulation, Exaltation, Accepted Servant and Dearest Companion." Immediately, the Singh's luminous floating body immensely brightened by maybe five thousand times.
One by one, the Guru took all the fallen Singh's faces in his blessed hands and graced them with gifts that our minds could not comprehend. My husband too received his blessing. Not only did he brighten up but the intensity of my luminous body also increased.
At last he walked over to a body and sat down. Gently he raised the Jathedaar's head and pillowed it on his lap. He turned the Jathedaar's face towards his and wiped it lovingly with his hand; clearing off the dried blood and debris. To all our surprise, the Jathedaar opened his eyes and looked at the Guru's face. He spoke in wonder, "My love! I have found you once more. How beautiful you look in Sach Khand!"
He lifted his hand and touched the Guru's face, stroking it gently with immense love. "Never will I leave you again; you just watch! There is no escape for you now!"
The Guru smiled and kissed the Jathedaar's hand. The Guru's kiss made the Jathedaar aware of his Earthly surroundings. He realized that he was touching the face of the One who is the Lord of this and the unseen world. Quickly he withdrew his hand, thinking he had been too forward with his brash behavior.
Looking at him with love, the Guru lifted the Jathedaar's hand back to his face and held it there pressed against him. The Guru spoke, "You have done well, my precious son! Guru Nanak is pleased with your Sikhi - ask for anything and you shall receive it!"
A tear formed in the Jathedaar's eyes. His voice quivered as he pleaded, "I ask for one thing only, my Sire. Please oh please, tear up the decree! And tell me that I am yours and that you are mine again."
The Guru removed the decree from his waist band. As I watched from above, a great lump arose in my throat. An ache crept over me, I wanted to weep profusely in sorrow and cry aloud with joy all at once. The Singhs moved beyond words, looked on in wonder. The Guru had held on to this dastardly piece of paper and kept it safe even in the battlefield where one keeps only what is most precious.
An immense longing took hold of me and then relief flooded my being as he tore it up into several pieces and threw it into the wind. The Gurus engaged the Jethadaar's eyes with his compassionate gaze as the pieces lazily floated away.
The Jathedaar smiled. He tried to join his two hands to say thank you, or perhaps to say Fateh, for at that very moment, his head fell backwards. We watched his immensely brilliant soul take leave of his body.
My husband turned to me. He smiled, and then disappeared. My heart told me that he had been finally accepted into the dimension that Guru Nanak calls the Realm of Truth.
