ਸੂਹੀ ਮਹਲਾ ੫ ॥
ਗੁਰ ਅਪੁਨੇ ਊਪਰਿ ਬਲਿ ਜਾਈਐ ॥
ਆਠ ਪਹਰ ਹਰਿ ਹਰਿ ਜਸੁ ਗਾਈਐ ॥੧॥
ਸਿਮਰਉ ਸੋ ਪ੍ਰਭੁ ਅਪਨਾ ਸੁਆਮੀ ॥
ਸਗਲ ਘਟਾ ਕਾ ਅੰਤਰਜਾਮੀ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
ਚਰਣ ਕਮਲ ਸਿਉ ਲਾਗੀ ਪ੍ਰੀਤਿ ॥
ਸਾਚੀ ਪੂਰਨ ਨਿਰਮਲ ਰੀਤਿ ॥੨॥
ਸੰਤ ਪ੍ਰਸਾਦਿ ਵਸੈ ਮਨ ਮਾਹੀ ॥
ਜਨਮ ਜਨਮ ਕੇ ਕਿਲਵਿਖ ਜਾਹੀ ॥੩॥
ਕਰਿ ਕਿਰਪਾ ਪ੍ਰਭ ਦੀਨ ਦਇਆਲਾ ॥
ਨਾਨਕੁ ਮਾਗੈ ਸੰਤ ਰਵਾਲਾ ॥੪॥੧੭॥੨੩॥

Suhi, Fifth Embodiment 
May one be sacrificed for the sake of one’s own Guru.
Sing the praise of Hari, of Hari, the All-Pervasive, for eight quarters of the day.1.
Remember that Prabhu, who is one’s own Owner,
The Knower of the hearts of every being.1.Pause-Reflect. 
Having attached in love for the lotus feet, 
One’s way of life is true, complete, filth-free.2.
By the grace of the Wisdom, the One resides in the mind.
Transgressions of each and every birth depart.3.
Bestow Grace, O Prabhu, Benefactor of the weak!
Nanak asks for the dust of the feet of the saintly-beings.¹

     Guru Arjan Sahib in Rag Suhi | Guru Granth Sahib 741

We remember Guru Arjan Sahib as our earliest shahid. But the long history of shahadat (martyrdom) in the Sikh tradition was perhaps originated by Guru Nanak Sahib’s witness of Babar’s atrocities which are rendered in the Bani (composition) popularly known as Babarvani. From the Arabic, the shahid is not only the martyr who sacrifices their own life, but also, as stated in Mahan Kosh, one who witnesses and one whom others witness. 

The martyr bears witness. The martyr sacrifices the self. And the martyr is witnessed by those they leave in their wake. 

Such is the example of Beant Singh, who became shahid on October 31, 1984. His wife Bimal Kaur Khalsa witnessed his transformation in the months between the June Ghallughara²—the invasion of Darbar Sahib and many other Gurduaras—and October 31st. In a November 1989 interview with Paigam magazine, Bimal Kaur Khalsa reflected on the days that led up to her husband’s shahidi. She describes how her husband readied himself to become a shahid, even as she didn’t realize the full extent of his transformation as it was unfolding. While he did tell her in the weeks that immediately followed the June Ghallughara that he would become shahid, she assumed that he was speaking from a place of anger, one that many Sikhs were inhabiting at that time. But in the weeks that followed, she did not see a man consumed by anger. Rather, her husband seemed to be moving with a clarity that she had not observed in him before. Discipline entered his life. He gave away his possessions, he started to eat less, and he received amrit (Immortal Nectar; Initiation into the Khalsa). One day after work, he told her a baz (hawk) had come to the Prime Minister’s residence. The baz remained for two hours. Understanding it to be a sign from Guru Gobind Singh Sahib, all the security guards bowed. 

Revealed by Guru Arjan Sahib, this sabad is in Rag Suhi, a musical mode of deep love. At Sidak this year, we received this sabad as the Hukam (Divine Order) of the day on the morning of August 6th. In the Sikhi 201 track, we spent that day discussing the aftermath of the 1984 Ghallughara in the context of the long history of shahadat in the Sikh tradition. In doing so, we spoke about what it means to engage in the act of sacrifice–bal, a word which appears in the first line of the sabad–what it means to give oneself completely to the Guru. We discussed what it means, as Guru Arjan Sahib describes in the second line, to sing the praises of Hari–the Remover of Suffering–continuously, throughout the twenty-four hours of a day. 

What does it mean to sacrifice oneself and to sing Hari’s praises? Beant Singh perhaps sang Hari’s praises through his discipline, which seemed to come from somewhere deep inside, suddenly and slowly, methodically and intuitively, effortfully and easefully. His discipline was both preparation and continuous singing about Hari, for twenty four hours a day. 

As I reflected on the hukam throughout the day, I was struck by the language of humility that characterizes this sabad. In the rahau lines of the sabad, where we are asked to pause and reflect, Guru Arjan Sahib reminds us to remember the Divine as our Suami, our Master, or Owner, who is Antarjami, Knower of the hearts (ghata) of all. I wonder if this is the kind of remembrance that enables one to commit to shahadat. I wonder if there’s any way to describe that remembrance, of the Owner and Knower of all, other than by singing Hari’s praises. 

As I am beginning to understand it, shahadat is not just about physical death but also about living truthfully. To live truthfully is to live in remembrance. We remember our shahids not as acting in a blind rage or seeking quick revenge, but rather as embodying a kind of disciplined courage. Our shahids do not die selfishly, to escape an unlivable world, but rather to leave in their wake the tools for building a more livable world, to contribute to the unfolding of history in a more just direction. 

What kind of remembrance does this take? In Sikhi 201, we discussed that remembrance–simran–is not only a practice of recitation and repetition, but also a practice that requires effort: effort to live in the world in a way that is Sikh-like, so that we might eventually become more like the Guru, in love with the One, the Owner of all and the Knower of all hearts. Guru Arjan Sahib talks about developing love for the lotus feet of the One. This love emerges from a way of life that is truthful, complete, and free of filth–nirmal. Guru Arjan Sahib asks that we might ask the One to reside within us, to enable us to be rid of the filth of doubt and duality. Harinder Singh Mahboob writes that Banda Singh Bahadar, that eighteenth-century martyr, readied himself for shahadat during the siege at Gurdas Nangal in April 1715. While under capture, his love for Kalgianvale–Adorner of the royal plume, Guru Gobind Singh Sahib–flowed anew, and thus began his journey to shahadat. Mehboob writes that Banda Singh’s shahadat³ represented an expression of the peak of his love for Kalgidhar.⁴ It was free of the filth of doubt and honorable, the result of an unbounded flood of conviction.⁵ His commitment to martyrdom was a commitment to both patience and faith. I wonder if I might ever develop this kind of love, open myself to being inhabited by the One, allow love for the One to grow and peak and become unrestrained and unbounded–to the self, the here, and the now. 

Reflecting on the legacy of Shahid Jaswant Singh Khalra, Santbir Singh writes that our shahids can be likened to “jewels, strung along the necklace of Panthak history, illuminating and beautifying our collective past, and inspiring us forward.” To be part of the beautiful necklace of Panthak history, strung together by the shahids who came and went before us in the example of Guru Nanak Sahib’s witness and Guru Arjan Sahib’s sacrifice, is to be part of a story that is both ongoing and that can be adorned. While a necklace might be worn on the body as adornment, what would it mean to adorn our hearts, to make space for the One, to sing Hari’s praises day and night? How could we live in the world in that remembrance, singing the Guru’s song and listening for the Guru’s call, opening and unfolding our inner selves and opening and unfolding the ongoing story of a sovereignty rooted in the Guru, the Only Sovereign? 

References

¹     Transcreation by Damanpreet Singh.

²    Ghallughara is the indigenous Panjabi-Sikh word, originated in the 18th century, to describe violent episodes of our history, which accounts for all Sikhs who died during 1984: warriors, non-combatants, and activists.

³    In Sahije Racio Khalsa, Mehboob writes of Banda Singh Bahadar: “ਗੁਰਦਾਸ ਨੰਗਲ ਦੇ ਲੰਮੇ ਘੇਰੇ ਸਮੇਂ ਬੰਦਾ ਸਿੰਘ ਵਿਚ 
ਕਲਗੀਆਂ ਵਾਲੇ ਦੀ ਮੁਹੱਬਤ ਦਾ ਚਸ਼ਮਾ ਇਕ ਵਾਰ ਫੇਰ ਫੱਟਿਆ,” 1004.  

⁴    Through shahadat, it became possible that Banda Singh Bahadar “ਆਪਣੇ ਅਨੁਭਵ ਨੂੰ ਕਲਗੀਧਰ ਦੀ ਮਹੱਬਤ ਦੀ ਸਿਖਰ ਵਿਚ ਬਦਲ ਕੇ ਵਿਖਾ ਦੇਵੇ,” 1004.

⁵    Mehboob writes of Banda Singh Bahadar’s commitment to a shahadat that was both “ਅਮਲ” and “ਨਿਰੋਲ”

⁶   Mehboob writes: “ਗੁਰਦਾਸ ਨੰਗਲ ਦੇ ਘੇਰੇ ਨਾਲ ਹੀ ਬੰਦਾ ਸਿੰਘ ਦੀ ਸ਼ਹਾਦਤ ਦਾ ਸਫ਼ਰ ਸ਼ੁਰੂ ਹੋ ਜਾਂਦਾ ਹੈ, ਜਿਹੜਾ ਕਿ ਉਸ ਦੇ ਆਖ਼ਰੀ ਸੁਆਸਾਂ ਤਕ ਸਬਰ ਅਤੇ ਸਿਦਕ ਦੀ ਇਕ ਲੰਮੀ ਦਾਸਤਾਨ ਪੇਸ਼ ਕਰਦਾ ਹੈ,” 1004.