As usual, I poked Prashad Maker to wake him up after the meditation. I wish I knew a politically correct way to say this, but Prashad Maker was fat; very, very fat! As his name applied, he made the Prashad (the good Lard only knows how much of it he kept for himself). While he was waking up from his slumber, a Singh came running and prostrated himself in front of Guru Gobind Singh jee.
"There is bad news, Sire!" he began, "We have just heard that the Moghuls have devised a weapon to break down our Fort's door. They have a very big bull elephant with enormously long tusks. They plan to feed it gallons of liquor all night until it gets reeling drunk and then send him crashing through our gate. Our spies tell us that they plan to attack in the morning!"
Some of us laughed because a drunken elephant seemed so absurd. But seeing the concern on the Jathedaar's (group leader) face, we sobered up realizing this indeed to be a serious situation. We fell silent and looked towards the Guru - he smiled. Something about the Guru's smile made everything worldly seem trivial and we all relaxed, confident things would be ok.
Guru looked around. His eyes rested on Prashad Maker, who shifted a little nervously. Then the Guru spoke, "We will send our elephant to fight theirs!"
All eyes fell enviously on Prashad Maker. For most, to be chosen by the Guru was the greatest honor a Sikh could hope for. But Prashad Maker didn't seem to think so. He nodded slightly. As soon as the Guru left the room, the amply endowed Prasad Maker ambled over to our leader and said, "Jathedaar Jee, it is an honor to serve the Khalsa but I think there has been a terrible, terrible mistake – as you know I am not a fighter and…"
The Jathedaar smiled replying, "The Guru makes no mistakes. Consider yourself blessed that you have been chosen personally by the celestial King!"
"Yes, of course," Prashad Maker continued, "But if I go and WaheGuru forbid, I don't come back; who is going to make the Prashad? You personally have told me on many occasions that no one else knows how to make it as deliciously as I do."
The Jathedaar grew a little impatient and said, "That, my portly petulant perfectionist, can be arranged. You still have the remainder of the night; perhaps you can teach someone your finer prashad-making tricks."
"But," the Prashad Maker continued, "Who will do the prashad distribution if I am gone?" The Jathedaar answered, "I will do it!"
There was silence for a moment before the dismal postulator implored desperately, "But who will eat the left-over prashad, Jathedaar Jee? ... Please save me from this ordeal, please!"
The Jathedaar patted him on the back and said, "Don't worry. The Guru saves everyone!"
~~~~~
The next morning, after Sadhana (early morning meditation) we all looked around for Prashad Maker. His usual leaning-against-the-wall-snoring behind the-ones-performing-keertan station had been abandoned. We soon discovered that he had escaped during the night by tying himself to a rope and lowering himself along the back wall. Alas, the rope could not sustain such an assault and broke before Prashad Maker had finished his descent. His friends hauled him home; his hulk sustaining a dislocated haunch; and hung hamstring, but happy to be not fighting elephants!
Once again we looked at the Guru for guidance. This time his eyes rested on a tall and lean Singh by the name of Bachitar Singh. The Guru spoke, "We will send our tiger to fight their elephant!"
Bachitar Singh, at first, too stunned to react, straightened up; the color of his already Naam-drenched face deepened with joy and bliss. He then stood with folded hands affirming, "Your grace, Sire, can make an ant defeat an army. It is an honor to be chosen …" his voice quivered emotionally and he stopped, lest he break down with joyous gratitude.
The Guru signaled him to come closer – Bachitar Singh knelt down in front of Him. The Guru put his eternal-life-giving hand on the Singh's shoulder saying, "WaheGuru is with you! Bliss, Singh, Bliss!"
I swear Bachitar Singh's sprits rose so high that his feet didn't touch ground as he prepared for battle. Tears freely flowed from his eyes as he sang shabads upon shabads about the greatness of the Guru and the gift of Naam.
At mid-morning, the Jathedaar summoned us stating, "Today, yet again, we are being attacked by an enemy who knows only hatred. But as our Guru has taught us, we fight back – oh boy, do we ever fight back – when the enemy refuses to negotiate, understanding nothing but the sharp edge of a sword!" Saying that he unsheathed his sword which reflected the sunlight into eyes.
A Singh called out a spontaneous jaikaraa (Sikh war cry), "Joo Boooole Sooo Nihaaaal!" (the one who utters the Timeless Truth's name/naam becomes blissful).
And we answered "Saaaaaat Sri Akaaaaal!"
We were ready to face any bloody enemy in the world!
~~~~~
Soon enough, we heard the Moghul forces coming towards us, chanting something or the other and waving their customary green flags. Right up in front, staggered the enemy's drunken elephant almost out of control. Heavily armored, the elephant bore seven iron plates layered on its head for protection. Two sharp spears were tied on the end of its trunk, which he whipped about madly. The heavily shielded driver appeared also intoxicated. He stood atop the elephant, madly bellowing the sorts of crazed things drunks (or men about to die) are known to yell!
The Jathedaar instructed us mount our horses inside the Fort. He then signaled Bachitar Singh to go out through a side-door. It opened just wide enough to let Bachitar Singh charge out. His steed, a dark brown horse, had seen plenty of battles. As it bolted out the door, it seemed surely destined to become a Khalsa in its next life for it had no knowledge that the letters f, e, a, r could be used as a word! Nor it seemed did Bachitar Singh. He rushed towards destiny the way a man rushes home to his newly wedded wife!
The pernicious pachyderms driver sobered up a little bit and sat down when he saw the Singh flying towards him. This was not at all what he expected; one Singh against an army of ten thousand?! He thought the Singh must be mad! No matter; he hid behind his shield. His enemy would know that he, the driver, would be the weak link in the attack. He followed instructions to take utmost care against flying arrows and soaring spears.
But the Khalsa is unlike others! They do not go for the weakest link but strike against the strongest link! And so too in this battle; Bachitar Singh, singing a shabad that we could no longer hear, charged the elephant. The enemy forces shouting slogans proceeded slowly towards our fort. They had either not seen the Singh coming towards them or simply didn't take him to be a serious threat - in reality that proved to be their weakest link and ultimately their undoing! To ignore a naam-drenched Singh flying at you with a long spear with a spiral end (nagini) in one hand, a meter-long sword close to the other, Guru's Words on his tongue and Guru Gobind Singh jee's blessing on the head; is a fatal mistake!!
Bachitar Singh got so close to the elephant that his horse suffered a slight cut from the elephant's sword. Raising his nagini and shouting "gurrrWAH!!" so that all could hear, Bachitar Singh raised his arm. With careful calculation, he speedily took aim. He threw with all his might and every particle of his devotion.
With the blessing of Naam, his force drove the spear so that it split the seams of the seven iron plates. The nagini dug through the leathery skin deep into the beasts' alcohol-addled brain. Not done yet; as he flew past the elephant, Bachitar Singh swiftly stuck his sword stabbing the elephant's right eye. The Elephant reeled up nearly knocking the driver off it's back. It plunged about wildly stomping soldiers on either side. The Singh spun on his limping horse, spurning it on. Coming at the elephant from the left he thrust again. Half blind, drunk, a nagini stuck into its face, the frightened elephant turned attempting to flee from the approaching Singh.
The enemy forces had just begun to catch on to what had happened. Disoriented, they looked back towards their battle leaders for directions; unprepared to deal with this sudden storm of a Singh. Our Jathedaar let out a Jaikaraa war cry. Our Fort doors flew open and we galloped out in force. Like the wind, naam on our lips, and Guru Gobind Singh jee's graceful eyes on our backs; we hurled towards the enemy. Swords slashing, we fought like there was no tomorrow (for them!).
Guru Gobind Singh jee unleashed three gold-tipped arrows. They struck into the enemy generals. The leaders fell with loud thuds - their troupes echoed their cries of fear.
The incoherent Elephant trying to avoid further injury turned, crashing into the enemy forces. Bachitar Singh approached him from behind. Diving into the air, his sword's naked blade in one hand; he grabbed the elephant's tail and climbed up onto his back. The driver, trying to regain his balance saw the tiger of a Singh's red naam-blissed-out face. The sun reflecting off the Singh's armory blinded him momentarily. He put up his shield to block the light and the Singh. The Singh's sword smashed into the driver's shield, knocking it out of his stunned hands.
The driver knew he was no match for the fury of the Singh. He threw his sword down. He knelt on his right knee and lowered his head, indicating defeat. He pleaded for the Khalsa's legendary mercy. The Singh lowered his sword motioning the driver to jump off.
The treacherous driver pulled out a dagger from his belt and raised it to strike. Yes, the Khalsa are merciful but they are not fools! The Singh anticipating this parry gave a hard swift kick behind the driver's left knee. The driver's right leg buckled as he tumbled down head first, screaming in pain and surprise.
As we fell upon the enemy forces, their leaders lay in the dust. The Khalsa controlled their chief weapon which they had so confidently groomed. The crazed elephant stampeded through their ranks. Trunk slashing, tusks thrusting wildly, it tossed and slung them about.
Victoriously we cheered our spirits rising as we sang out in a single voice ...
WAHEGURU JI KA KHALSA
WAHEGURU JI KI FATEH!!!!
"There is bad news, Sire!" he began, "We have just heard that the Moghuls have devised a weapon to break down our Fort's door. They have a very big bull elephant with enormously long tusks. They plan to feed it gallons of liquor all night until it gets reeling drunk and then send him crashing through our gate. Our spies tell us that they plan to attack in the morning!"
Some of us laughed because a drunken elephant seemed so absurd. But seeing the concern on the Jathedaar's (group leader) face, we sobered up realizing this indeed to be a serious situation. We fell silent and looked towards the Guru - he smiled. Something about the Guru's smile made everything worldly seem trivial and we all relaxed, confident things would be ok.
Guru looked around. His eyes rested on Prashad Maker, who shifted a little nervously. Then the Guru spoke, "We will send our elephant to fight theirs!"
All eyes fell enviously on Prashad Maker. For most, to be chosen by the Guru was the greatest honor a Sikh could hope for. But Prashad Maker didn't seem to think so. He nodded slightly. As soon as the Guru left the room, the amply endowed Prasad Maker ambled over to our leader and said, "Jathedaar Jee, it is an honor to serve the Khalsa but I think there has been a terrible, terrible mistake – as you know I am not a fighter and…"
The Jathedaar smiled replying, "The Guru makes no mistakes. Consider yourself blessed that you have been chosen personally by the celestial King!"
"Yes, of course," Prashad Maker continued, "But if I go and WaheGuru forbid, I don't come back; who is going to make the Prashad? You personally have told me on many occasions that no one else knows how to make it as deliciously as I do."
The Jathedaar grew a little impatient and said, "That, my portly petulant perfectionist, can be arranged. You still have the remainder of the night; perhaps you can teach someone your finer prashad-making tricks."
"But," the Prashad Maker continued, "Who will do the prashad distribution if I am gone?" The Jathedaar answered, "I will do it!"
There was silence for a moment before the dismal postulator implored desperately, "But who will eat the left-over prashad, Jathedaar Jee? ... Please save me from this ordeal, please!"
The Jathedaar patted him on the back and said, "Don't worry. The Guru saves everyone!"
~~~~~
The next morning, after Sadhana (early morning meditation) we all looked around for Prashad Maker. His usual leaning-against-the-wall-snoring behind the-ones-performing-keertan station had been abandoned. We soon discovered that he had escaped during the night by tying himself to a rope and lowering himself along the back wall. Alas, the rope could not sustain such an assault and broke before Prashad Maker had finished his descent. His friends hauled him home; his hulk sustaining a dislocated haunch; and hung hamstring, but happy to be not fighting elephants!
Once again we looked at the Guru for guidance. This time his eyes rested on a tall and lean Singh by the name of Bachitar Singh. The Guru spoke, "We will send our tiger to fight their elephant!"
Bachitar Singh, at first, too stunned to react, straightened up; the color of his already Naam-drenched face deepened with joy and bliss. He then stood with folded hands affirming, "Your grace, Sire, can make an ant defeat an army. It is an honor to be chosen …" his voice quivered emotionally and he stopped, lest he break down with joyous gratitude.
The Guru signaled him to come closer – Bachitar Singh knelt down in front of Him. The Guru put his eternal-life-giving hand on the Singh's shoulder saying, "WaheGuru is with you! Bliss, Singh, Bliss!"
I swear Bachitar Singh's sprits rose so high that his feet didn't touch ground as he prepared for battle. Tears freely flowed from his eyes as he sang shabads upon shabads about the greatness of the Guru and the gift of Naam.
At mid-morning, the Jathedaar summoned us stating, "Today, yet again, we are being attacked by an enemy who knows only hatred. But as our Guru has taught us, we fight back – oh boy, do we ever fight back – when the enemy refuses to negotiate, understanding nothing but the sharp edge of a sword!" Saying that he unsheathed his sword which reflected the sunlight into eyes.
A Singh called out a spontaneous jaikaraa (Sikh war cry), "Joo Boooole Sooo Nihaaaal!" (the one who utters the Timeless Truth's name/naam becomes blissful).
And we answered "Saaaaaat Sri Akaaaaal!"
We were ready to face any bloody enemy in the world!
~~~~~
Soon enough, we heard the Moghul forces coming towards us, chanting something or the other and waving their customary green flags. Right up in front, staggered the enemy's drunken elephant almost out of control. Heavily armored, the elephant bore seven iron plates layered on its head for protection. Two sharp spears were tied on the end of its trunk, which he whipped about madly. The heavily shielded driver appeared also intoxicated. He stood atop the elephant, madly bellowing the sorts of crazed things drunks (or men about to die) are known to yell!
The Jathedaar instructed us mount our horses inside the Fort. He then signaled Bachitar Singh to go out through a side-door. It opened just wide enough to let Bachitar Singh charge out. His steed, a dark brown horse, had seen plenty of battles. As it bolted out the door, it seemed surely destined to become a Khalsa in its next life for it had no knowledge that the letters f, e, a, r could be used as a word! Nor it seemed did Bachitar Singh. He rushed towards destiny the way a man rushes home to his newly wedded wife!
The pernicious pachyderms driver sobered up a little bit and sat down when he saw the Singh flying towards him. This was not at all what he expected; one Singh against an army of ten thousand?! He thought the Singh must be mad! No matter; he hid behind his shield. His enemy would know that he, the driver, would be the weak link in the attack. He followed instructions to take utmost care against flying arrows and soaring spears.
But the Khalsa is unlike others! They do not go for the weakest link but strike against the strongest link! And so too in this battle; Bachitar Singh, singing a shabad that we could no longer hear, charged the elephant. The enemy forces shouting slogans proceeded slowly towards our fort. They had either not seen the Singh coming towards them or simply didn't take him to be a serious threat - in reality that proved to be their weakest link and ultimately their undoing! To ignore a naam-drenched Singh flying at you with a long spear with a spiral end (nagini) in one hand, a meter-long sword close to the other, Guru's Words on his tongue and Guru Gobind Singh jee's blessing on the head; is a fatal mistake!!
Bachitar Singh got so close to the elephant that his horse suffered a slight cut from the elephant's sword. Raising his nagini and shouting "gurrrWAH!!" so that all could hear, Bachitar Singh raised his arm. With careful calculation, he speedily took aim. He threw with all his might and every particle of his devotion.
With the blessing of Naam, his force drove the spear so that it split the seams of the seven iron plates. The nagini dug through the leathery skin deep into the beasts' alcohol-addled brain. Not done yet; as he flew past the elephant, Bachitar Singh swiftly stuck his sword stabbing the elephant's right eye. The Elephant reeled up nearly knocking the driver off it's back. It plunged about wildly stomping soldiers on either side. The Singh spun on his limping horse, spurning it on. Coming at the elephant from the left he thrust again. Half blind, drunk, a nagini stuck into its face, the frightened elephant turned attempting to flee from the approaching Singh.
The enemy forces had just begun to catch on to what had happened. Disoriented, they looked back towards their battle leaders for directions; unprepared to deal with this sudden storm of a Singh. Our Jathedaar let out a Jaikaraa war cry. Our Fort doors flew open and we galloped out in force. Like the wind, naam on our lips, and Guru Gobind Singh jee's graceful eyes on our backs; we hurled towards the enemy. Swords slashing, we fought like there was no tomorrow (for them!).
Guru Gobind Singh jee unleashed three gold-tipped arrows
The incoherent Elephant trying to avoid further injury turned, crashing into the enemy forces. Bachitar Singh approached him from behind. Diving into the air, his sword's naked blade in one hand; he grabbed the elephant's tail and climbed up onto his back. The driver, trying to regain his balance saw the tiger of a Singh's red naam-blissed-out face. The sun reflecting off the Singh's armory blinded him momentarily. He put up his shield to block the light and the Singh. The Singh's sword smashed into the driver's shield, knocking it out of his stunned hands.
The driver knew he was no match for the fury of the Singh. He threw his sword down. He knelt on his right knee and lowered his head, indicating defeat. He pleaded for the Khalsa's legendary mercy. The Singh lowered his sword motioning the driver to jump off.
The treacherous driver pulled out a dagger from his belt and raised it to strike. Yes, the Khalsa are merciful but they are not fools! The Singh anticipating this parry gave a hard swift kick behind the driver's left knee. The driver's right leg buckled as he tumbled down head first, screaming in pain and surprise.
As we fell upon the enemy forces, their leaders lay in the dust. The Khalsa controlled their chief weapon which they had so confidently groomed. The crazed elephant stampeded through their ranks. Trunk slashing, tusks thrusting wildly, it tossed and slung them about.
Victoriously we cheered our spirits rising as we sang out in a single voice ...
WAHEGURU JI KA KHALSA
WAHEGURU JI KI FATEH!!!!
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
