“I think we were always meant to be nomads.”
These are the words of a friend who I met up with for dinner a few weeks ago, shared when we were discussing the current state of affairs of our community.
This sentence has stuck in my head ever since.
Looking back at our history, it begins with the founder of our way of life, Guru Nanak. In the 1500’s he left his home and family in Punjab with his trusted companion Mardana not once, not twice, but five different times, travelling far and wide. He visited countless places, sharing his message of Oneness with all those who were willing to listen, all while winning hearts and minds along the way.
He spent decades doing this, and when he returned home for the final time, he settled not in his hometown, but in a new location, continuing to spread his message to his growing congregation until his final breath.
Generations after Guru Nanak, in the early 1700’s, Guru Gobind Singh too left Punjab, albeit for different reasons. Having to make the decision to leave Anandpur after an extended siege and several heartbreaking incidents which followed, Guru Gobind Singh spent his final days in Maharashtra, over 900 kilometres from Punjab on today’s modern roads.
After Guru Gobind Singh, Sikhs were hunted relentlessly by Mughal forces for decades, being forced to leave their homes and take up abode in forests, mounting a resistance first against the aforementioned Mughals hellbent on destroying them, and later against invaders from Afghanistan.
In the 1800’s, when the British imposed their rule in Punjab, many began to leave their ancestral lands for places such as Britain, Canada, and the United States.
In 1947, Punjab was recklessly butchered into two based on outdated maps by a man who had no knowledge of the land or its people. As a result, places of supreme importance to Sikhs ended up on different sides of a newly formed border, and families who had lived in places for generations were now forced to make the perilous journey to a new town, city or village.
For a multitude of reasons, the decades that followed witnessed exodus from Punjab, one which continues to this day. Countless men, women and children have left their homes in search of new beginnings, and the overwhelming majority of these people have been and continue to be Sikhs. Each had their own reasons, and each of those reasons carried within not only the hope of a better life, but also the pain of leaving the land of one’s ancestors.
Coincidentally, many of those who will read this are the children and grandchildren of these people.
How does all this relate back to my friend’s statement about us being meant to be nomads?
The answer to that goes back to Guru Nanak’s travels. He once entered a village and was treated with great hostility by its inhabitants. They were cold rude, unwelcoming and self centred, treating Guru Nanak and Mardana with great disrespect. Despite his mistreatment at their hands, Guru Nanak blessed them by saying, “vasde raho”, translating to “stay put and prosper” as he left.
Guru Nanak and Mardana then travelled to another village close by, and received a warm welcome. This village’s inhabitants were selfless, full of love, and eager to ensure the weary travellers were comfortable. To Mardana’s great surprise, Guru Nanak appeared to curse the villagers when he departed, stating “ujhar jao”, meaning “may you be uprooted and dispersed.”
When asked why he blessed the people who treated him with such distain and used words which could only be interpreted as a curse on those who showed him the utmost hospitality, it is said he explained it as follows:
The world is already full of people with bad intentions. They care for nobody but themselves, and when the opportunity to help their fellow humans presents itself, they look at it not as a blessing, but as a burden and a task they would rather avoid. The toxicity these people carry within is contagious, and the only way to prevent it from spreading is to contain it. In other words, it was best for them to stay put.
On the other hand, the world also has people in it who are selfless, kind and always willing to do the right thing. These people will put the needs of others before their own, and see the opportunity to help their fellow humans as an opportunity to serve the highest of powers, be it God, the Universe, or whatever name they decide to give it. There are very few of these people in the world, which is why they need to spread far and wide. Like the decay the selfish carry, the humanity they carry is also contagious, and humanity needs that love to spread and flourish in all corners of the earth.
The philosophy of Sikhi is a beautiful gift to the world. When one peels back the layers we as a society have buried its true essence under, it is a light as bright as the sun. It teaches love and acceptance while embracing courage and resilience. Both the pen and sword hold significance, but most significant of all is the concept of equality and connectedness.
As our people have been dispersed from Punjab for various reasons, they have taken with them these core teachings and shared them with the world. Despite our collective and individual shortcomings, our community always rises to the occasion when people need help, from organizations based on Guru Nanak’s teachings feeding the downtrodden to coming together to help the victims of natural disasters, accidents and other twists and turns life throws in people’s ways. Our community is always wanting, willing and readily jumping in to help in any way possible.
Despite how much we have complicated, politicized and misinterpreted what Guru Nanak’s message was, when the opportunity presents itself, we let his teachings shine through our actions.
The Punjab Guru Nanak shared this philosophy with is long gone. The land he travelled so freely across sits divided into two nations which, as recent events have reminded us, have great animosity for each other. The Punjab of our ancestors, our grandparents, and even our parents has changed and continues to change quite drastically, and not often for the best. The people of Guru Nanak’s land are now spread across the world, and many don’t recognize the new shape their homeland has taken, even if it has only been a few decades since they left.
The land of our forefathers has transformed, and there can be an endless debate as to whether the migration of our people was the product of choice or that of inevitability and circumstance. Perhaps both are true in their own right to a certain degree, but to debate that is a fruitless endeavour.
The bottom line is that it’s happened, and you and I and the lives we lead are the result of it.
Perhaps a more meaningful way of understanding it begins to appear when looking at the following words of Ocean Vuong:
“We are the embers no ocean could drown.”
No truer words could apply to the followers of Guru Nanak. We have been persecuted, ridiculed, ostracized and even vilified at times, but the ocean which has carried us so far from our homeland and its unforgiving waves have never been able to fully extinguish our flame. Perhaps it is a coincidence that this quote came to mind on the 111th anniversary of the arrival of the Komagata Maru on the shores of Vancouver.
As ordained by Guru Nanak centuries ago, those who deeply believe in his teachings are blessed, and this blessing comes in the form of being destined to leave the place where we originated. Like the seeds of a magnificent plant, we were meant to be spread across the globe, taking his message with us and helping our fellow humans as best we can along the way.
We were always meant to be nomads.
“We are the children of Guru Nanak – no land is foreign to us, yet no land can claim us fully.”
– Pashaura Singh Dhillon
Photo – Sikh Gurdwara Kitsalano, 1908 (SFU Library, via CBC)
