After the horrific execution of Guru Gobind Singh’s two youngest sons in December of 1705 on the orders of the Mughal ruler of Sirhind, a man named Todar Mal took possession of the bodies of the six and nine year old children, along with that of their grandmother.
It is said that landowners of Sirhind refused to allow him space to cremate their bodies, perhaps out of fear of retribution from the authorities. If they were willing to brick two young children alive after torturing them and their elderly grandmother, it was clear they were capable of anything.
Finally, a landowner agreed to sell Todar Mal the land for the cremation. The seller declared the final selling price would be the amount of coins it took to cover the land Todar Mal needed to perform the cremation. It is said that 7800 coins were required to complete the transaction.
It remains to date, one of the most expensive land purchases in history.
Todar Mal agreed to pay this ridiculously high amount without hesitation, and purchased the land after stacking gold coins vertically (rather than flat, which would have used less), as per the conditions which had been laid out by the seller out of a combination of sheer greed and lack of compassion.
Today, a beautiful Gurdwara called Jyoti Saroop has been erected at the location of the cremation, marking this very sombre moment in both Sikh and Punjabi history.
Todar Mal was a wealthy businessman. He lived in a magnificent haveli (mansion), one with a massive courtyard and even a swimming pool. Although he was well-off, the price he paid for the land was crippling. He was left in financial ruin, and perhaps worse, he now faced the wrath of Wazir Khan, the ruler of Sirhind, who was furious when he found out that the bodies had been cremated. Wazir Khan and his advisors had wanted to set an example for anyone who dared to even consider speaking up against the barbarity of the Mughal rulers at the time.
What happened to Todar Mal is unknown, but what we do know is that he was forced to leave Sirhind with his family, leaving his beautiful haveli abandoned.
Wazir Khan and his administrators were brought to justice in 1710 by Banda Singh Bahadur and his army. In a bloody battle, Sirhind was captured by the Sikh forces, and in their anger at what had happened to the children of Guru Gobind Singh and his mother, they razed the town to the ground. While many buildings were destroyed during the siege, the haveli of Todar Mal was left untouched, out of respect for the kindness and humanity he displayed towards the children and mother of the tenth Guru.
Unfortunately time and neglect have done what Banda Singh Bahadur’s army did not. The once awe-inspiring haveli is now in ruins. Although there were clearly some sort of restoration efforts underway, there was no work happening when I visited. A lone security guard was posted at the site, along with signs warning visitors not to damage the ruins, but both did little to prevent people from touching things and moving about as they pleased. During my time there, at least three vehicles drove straight into the courtyard, where Todar Mal once greeted important guests.
I am fully aware that perhaps I am being overly critical of what is happening in terms of conservation of this site and others I’ve seen. Some may argue that I have no right, as I am a Canadian and don’t know what it’s like here. I counter that by saying that I have every right to do so because as a Sikh and as someone who traces his ancestors back to Punjab, this is a part of my history as much as it is that of any Indian or native-born Punjabi’s.
Todar Mal gave up everything to do what was right. His sacrifice and selflessness sets an example of what the definition of humanity is, not just for Sikhs, but the entire world. What he did reminds me of the following words of Kahlil Gibran:
“You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.”
In walking through the ruins of Todar Mal’s haveli, I realized he went even further than what Gibran has said, for he gave not only of himself by risking his own safety by carrying out the cremation, but also of his possessions, by leveraging his wealth to purchase the land. He gave completely and freely from the heart, and that is what pure giving is all about.
As I’ve shared before, visiting places with a rich history is like travelling back in time. If you go to these places and free yourself of distraction and let them tell you their stories, you will be amazed at what you will experience. As I walked around Todar Mal’s haveli and inside it, I asked it to tell me its story, and it did so without hesitation.
I watched Todar Mal returning to his haveli after the cremation, knowing he was broke. I pictured him knowing he would incur the wrath of Wazir Khan, and telling his family they would need to leave. I watched as they packed their belongings and loaded their carts, and finally I bore witness to Todar Mal standing in the entrance to his courtyard, looking back at the haveli he had worked so hard to build, knowing he would never see it again.
We as a community have done a grave disservice to this selfless man by letting his home fall into the state that it is now in. Todar Mal didn’t do what he did for recognition or fame – it cost him everything. He did it because he knew what he was doing was the right thing to do.
I challenge each and every person who has read this far to examine how freely they give. Before I give to a cause, I think about how much I can “afford”, because I have “other expenses”. Activities for my kids, bills, and the day-to-day costs that come with the lifestyle I live.
I give where I can, but if I am to be completely honest with myself and those who read this, I know I can probably give more, not just in dollars, but also in time. I have no hesitation spending time on social media and money on a night out, but when it comes to giving to a good cause, I hesitate and think about what I can “afford” to spare.
As I walked out of where the once splendid gates of Todar Mal’s haveli once greeted visitors, I found myself comparing my giving to that of Todar Mal’s. He too had “other expenses”, and he too was a busy man, yet he gave it all up without a second thought. I don’t have the ability to be as selfless as Todar Mal – none of us do, but we do have the ability to appreciate his sacrifice and draw inspiration from it.
I know buildings are just that – buildings, but as previously mentioned, they contain stories. The emotions we experience when we visit such places are unparalleled. I don’t think Todar Mal would care about what happened to his haveli, but I think for people like you and I who need physical reminders of what true giving and humanity are, we need to ramp up our efforts to save it from disappearing forever, taking along with it the story of sacrifice it contains within its walls.
