One sunny morning on a very cold winter, our Tenth Master, Guru Gobind Singh ji, was seated majestically in his resplendent Durbar. He was listening to his followers individually, who had come from afar, to seek his blessings. The wishes of all of them were granted by their Master and they expressed their gratitude for his divine favors. The atmosphere was exuded with celestial fervor and Guru’s kind ness was visible and sparkled from every face. All of a sudden an old lady entered the Durbar, shrieking and crying bitterly. She was brought before the Master, who consoled her and enquired as to what was wrong and why was she so upset?
The lady stood remorsefully for a short while. Then she fell on her knees in front of the Guru and said, “Other Master of my soul and body! My beloved husband was your devout Sikh, He had dedicated himself to you and when a chance arose for him, he gave up his life while fighting in your army of Saint Soldiers. He met his death bravely for a righteous cause of fighting against tyranny, on his death I did not weep at all, nor was L upset. Rather I rejoiced and thanked the Almighty for accepting him at his altar.
Guru who was listening to her with rapt attention and asked the lady if she was now in some difficulty and if he could help her in any manner? The lady very courteously ad dressed the Master and said, “My Master! Permit me to finish my narration and kindly defer your commands till then, if you please.”
The Guru expressed his willing ness. The lady then said, “My eldest son went to the battlefield too, following the footsteps of his illustrious father and in obedience to your orders, He was killed and I prayed for him in the Same manner as I did ‘on the death of my husband. Ah! How great is Akal Purkh!”
Some men and women present in the congregation exclaimed Waheguru” number of times. A calm prevailed all around signifying that every heart had sympathy for the lady and they wished to hear her further. Master’s face bore a glow of wisdom. The lady by now recomposed to some extent and said, “Sir, my second son, though very young, was also keen to join your army. He sought my permission to go and fight and I could not withhold it. I cheerfully allowed him to fulfil his desire to attain martyrdom, I was given to know by those who survived that he fought with God’s name in his heart and, like a valiant soldier. He did more than my husband and the eldest $on. He had specialized in sword wielding and no tyrant was any match to him on the field. They faced him one by one and he killed perhaps a score of them, His famished sword danced from left to right, and right to left at ease and it bore clots of blood on it. As he was in the thick of the battle Alas! his sword broke. The enemy laughed loudly at him, considering that now they could kill him. But with a jerk, he had pulled out a spear from the waist belt of a slain Mughal, and raising it high, roared like a hungry lion to challenge them once again. He was certain about his end. So he had determined to do maximum loss to the tyrants, He moved at a reckless speed. Whereas the Mughal soldiers were fighting as mercenaries, the Sikh soldiers were achieving martyrdom. He played havoc wherever he stood. Sir, then a dozen of them pounced upon him from all sides simultaneously with a variety of weapons. They had swords, spears and draggers, My $n was battered into pieces but before he fell he had slain many. I was told his body lay on heap of the dead. May Akal Purkh be with him!” She was shedding tears of thank fullness. People were spellbound. Many had closed their eyes and were praying for the glorious warrior. Others had folded their hands and were reciting “Satnam Waheguru.” Some had tears in their eyes while a few were biting the tips of their fingers. The Master was calm, he said, “O noble mother! Blessed are you and blessed are your sons and husband. They have gone to heaven and will never enter into the cycle of trans migration. They have achieved salvation, Those who have laid down their lives for righteousness, are dear to me as my sons. So you needn’t grieve. Instead you should feel happy as you have an honor able place in the Khalsa brother hood. Now do tell me what can I do for you that will make you happy at heart? The lady fell on the feet of the Master and weeping she washed his feet with her tears. The Guru lifted her head and consoled her as well as he repeated his earlier question:
The lady said, “O merciful Master! You hold both worlds in your command, T humbly beg of you to grant me a boon but only, if you think, I deserve it.” Guru answered. “You deserve all, you may ask for anything and assure you that your wishes shall be granted,” ‘The lady stood up on her feet. She wrapped her dupatia around her neck folded her hands and said, “Kind and loving Master, | have the youngest son. He is seriously ill, have tried many medicines but none could cure him. He is nearing his death and I cannot see him die like that. “She was weeping bitterly,
The Guru exclaimed,” Mother Dear, His life shall be prolonged and he will live many more years to serve you. You need have no fear on this account.” “No, Sir, that is not I wish for, please withdraw your words lest | shall be cursed,” lamented the old woman. Everybody was wonder struck. The Master had inquisitive eyes too. But she was in a meditative mood Hands folded, head bowed, standing still like a statue, she said that what she had not said for a long time, “Do cure my son Sir, but not 10 serve me but the Khalsa, Grant that my son after regaining his health should go to the battle field under Thy banner, to shed his blue blood for the sake of Dharma. Make him feel sufficiently strong to face the heaviest odds and die fighting to uphold righteousness and de story the villainous tyrants, If you arc kind my Master, give me this much and I shall be truly grateful to you, my Lord.” Master’s eyes were damp, his voice choked and he .aid, “O Brave Mother they wish shall be granted!” by:
Jai Dev Singh
Article extracted from this publication >> July 9, 1993
