A Spring in India: Chapter 7

A Spring in India: Chapter 7
Nanaksar


New to the India posts? Catch up by reading the previous chapters, then leave a comment after you read this chapter! Thanks!

Chapter 1: Planes, planes and more planes
Chapter 2: Meeting Mumbai
Chapter 3: Ulhasnagar
Chapter 4: Why Lemonade SUCKS
Chapter 5: Milo Punjab Nu
Chapter 6: Don't Try to Sell Me Potatoes!

One hazy mid-morning a couple days after our arrival in Amritsar, we packed a suitcase of various gifts and goods (candies from America, embroidered, multicolor fabrics, etc) in the back of an taxi. We were about to go on a day trip from Amritsar to Nanaksar, a Gurudwara thath in Kaleran. As the driver (and the adults, for that matter) went inside to drink some water and eat some roti-sabji before the journey, the kids and I sat outside, taking in the steady, earthy warmness beating against our skin. Soon enough we were on our way to Nanaksar - leaving the dusty streets of Amritsar. We were now traveling smooth (for India, at least), wide roads surrounded by fairly verdant jungle. I felt a wide-eyed sense of tranquility as we went on and on, taking in the feel of this freeway - thinking about the thick, dusty breeze that carried the scent of gas, of spices, of all things earthy and whole. This is a view I captured of the endless road:



Soon after, we passed lurking, low rivers that were the channels and tributaries of the Five Rivers that Punjab gets its name from. In all of this land, there was a buzzing silence - the mooing of cows, the churtling of cars, and the faint cries of birds all combining as a hardly audible backdrop to a raw landscape. This, along with car's stereo playing various shabads - added to a feeling of shaanti as we loomed closer and closer to Nanaksar.

So you may be asking yourself what Nanaksar is? It is a gurdwara, far out in the Punjabi countryside, that is almost like a monastery - the sevaadars are the men who have cut off all worldly attachments to live at Nanaksar, take care of the grounds, do the ceremonial practices, and most importantly - keep the constant presence of Gurbani vibrating in the air through paaht and kirtan.

When one approaches Nanaksar, you'll first drive through a marketplace selling all sorts of goods. In the past, it was lively during annual holidays and celebrations. On this particular day, it was a bit asleep in the lazy afternoon sunshine. We purchased some fresh fruit drive-thru, which we planned to give to Nanaksar as a seva.

We parked our car in a lot that was all too familiar. I have been here every 3 years of my life - it was my first foreign destination as a 3-month old. The walls of the corridors in front of us were painted a bright blue, and there was a subtle difference in the air at Nanaksar than there was anywhere else.

First, we took off our shoes and entered a dimly lit room where paht was being done, as it was being done at several locations in Nanaksar. Everytime we visit Nanaksar, we always visit this room first - it has a golden rail where people wait in line to sit in the adjacent room - one that is highly coveted. A heavy but not overpowering scent of jasmine hung in the room, concentrated with the sweetness of both the flower and of the sacred words being spoekn continually.

After bowing to the Guru Granth Sahib in this room, we went to the room where Baba Harbhajan Singh Ji was waiting. He was preceded in the duty of doing the seva of the main prakash by other saints such as Baba Nand Singh Ji and Baba Kundan Singh Ji. Nanaksar and its saints have been a central part of my family's lives for a couple generations. There is a sense of closeness - as if something in my blood stirred at the echo of sounds and sights known in my family for 80 years. We talked with the Babaji - ironically, not about cosmic fate and whatnot, but about daily things, small issues, things on our minds.

Soon after, I, in usual form, started wandering the grounds, which have a rare combination of impressiveness and earthiness. Everything - the corridor walls, the outdoor floors - was marbled. The pitch white sky had a serene, clean silence matching that of the grounds on this particular day. I took in the black birds cluttering along the white marble; the creased, lit faces of the elderly that made up most of the few visitors on this weekday. These old women were often sweeping the grounds of twigs, leaves, dust, and dirt. At one point, I sat against the marble, trying to draw these various sights, but I failed. Luckily, later on, when the sun started to peek through the trees at the other end of Nanaksar, where a long dusty path led to the larger hall where kirtan was being done, I captured a photo of an old man humbly doing seva.




What disappointed me at Nanaksar was that I did not catch sight of the two peacocks I saw on my previous visit. I was 11 then, and get a lot of amusement from chasing them around, until they were finally escape into the gated garden.

There are so many quiet yet memorable sights at Nanaksar, some of which I saw saw in the past but didn't get to experience this time because we only had a day. I could hardly describe them all. As one walks the outdoor corridors, one passes these glass windows facing outside, where a sevadar is reading from the Guru Granth Sahib. There are inscriptions at several locations.

But one sight I must describe is the huge, sprawling, covered outdoor sitting area. On my previous two visits, this location was a sea of people - the air ringing with kirtan. There was a seeming, small "hole" or lower area, where the Babaji used to sit, because he wanted to be lower than everyone else. But today, there was not a soul on in this area. It echoed in the wind with a silence. This was the last thing I took in before my parents summoned me as we prepared to leave Nanaksar to head back to my cousins's house in Amritsar. Albeit a bit tired, I was feeling much better than before, and left with an even more renewed sense of well-being.

Stay tuned for more chapters detailing the rest of my India (and then London!) trip.