Yesterday evening, dear Professor Baljinder Singh--who had previously given us a lecture on Sikhism at the
beautiful Khalsa College--escorted us through the golden temple, where we spent a long time soaking in the incredible glory of it all, taking pictures of the water and the night-lit temple, watching the people bathing in the holy water, prostrating before it, and sitting alongside it. We walked through the eating hall and shared a couple of servings of rice pudding, dal, and chipati, and then waited in line to see the temple itself. The hymns inside, which echo from speakers throughout the area, might have been the most beautiful thing I've heard. This morning, a smaller group of us was fortunate enough to visit the temple a second time and help wash dishes. The entire experience was more than words can express, and even more than my humble heart could fully feel, at least all at once. My attempt at sharing some of it in writing follows:
The Heart of Amritsar
Not because of the splendid white gates or the age-old water into which humble learners dip their bodies and their prayers. Not because of the floating wonder of that glowing edifice, or the hundreds of seekers bent in prostration on the burlap where our watered feet walk or the marble thresholds over which we step. Not even because of that heavenly music-the sweet, sweet voices, the gentle drumming and pumping, singing an endless and most beautiful song: the word of waheguru. No, not because of any or all of these alone. But because of those who give the food, because of those who stoke the fires, because of those who stir the rice in the biggest pots you'll ever see. Because of those who turn the dough, because of those who slice the onions, and because of those who wash the dishes, one after another, again and again, in the long metal troughs frequented by many a pruny finger. And because of the tireless, uplifted souls who spend every day in selfless, nondiscriminatory service to humanity, who dedicate their lives, or any part thereof, to that highest service to God. Because of all of these together, this will remain the most beautiful place I've been.
beautiful Khalsa College--escorted us through the golden temple, where we spent a long time soaking in the incredible glory of it all, taking pictures of the water and the night-lit temple, watching the people bathing in the holy water, prostrating before it, and sitting alongside it. We walked through the eating hall and shared a couple of servings of rice pudding, dal, and chipati, and then waited in line to see the temple itself. The hymns inside, which echo from speakers throughout the area, might have been the most beautiful thing I've heard. This morning, a smaller group of us was fortunate enough to visit the temple a second time and help wash dishes. The entire experience was more than words can express, and even more than my humble heart could fully feel, at least all at once. My attempt at sharing some of it in writing follows:
This is beautiful, Amber-B. I could really feel the place as you were describing it. I'm so grateful you're having this adventure, and that you are so joyously soaking it in.
ReplyDeleteHugs, Mama
Yes! You've captured the essence of this place!
ReplyDeleteThis is excellent:
"long metal troughs frequented by many a pruny finger"