There are moments when a single word or a single phrase holds you still. It interrupts the mind’s motion, demands pause, and begins to shift something quietly within. A few weeks ago, listening to the discourse from the Manji Sahib Gurdwara in Amritsar, I encountered such a moment. The Hukam (Command) was being explained, each line unfolding gently, yet one segment reached out and captured me completely.

The Hukam, from Guru Arjan Sahib in Rag Todi musical measure offered this rahau—the invitation to pause:

 ਮਾਗਉ ਦਾਨੁ ਠਾਕੁਰ ਨਾਮੁ ॥
ਅਵਰੁ ਕਛੂ ਮੇਰੈ ਸੰਗਿ ਨ ਚਾਲੈ ਮਿਲੈ ਕ੍ਰਿਪਾ ਗੁਣ ਗਾਮ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
O! Master-Sovereign, I ask for the gift of Nam.
Nothing else will go with me; grace me to sing Your virtues.1 Pause.

     Guru Granth Sahib 713

The simplicity of this ask—ਮਾਗਉ ਦਾਨੁ ਠਾਕੁਰ ਨਾਮੁ—pierced through the many distractions that accompany thought. The appeal was so bare, so essential, that it stripped away the weight of desires one by one, leaving only the truth of what actually matters.

The giani (scholar) began the discourse:

“The revered Guru teaches that we seek the gift of Nam—Identification with IkOankar, the One. Even in our daily ardas (supplication), we ask: ‘Grant the Sikhs the gift of Sikhi, the gift of wisdom, the gift of discipline, the gift of discernment, the gift of faith, the gift of trust.’ And at the end, we ask for the supreme treasure—Nam. This is the highest blessing the Sovereign bestows.”

And then came the sakhi, not as a story from the past, but as something that stepped forward with breath, carrying the Guru’s wisdom into the present.

“Once,” the giani narrated, “a disciple named Murari came to Guru Arjan Sahib. He had traveled from Ruhtas with deep longing in his heart. Bowing before the Guru, he confessed:

‘O True Sovereign, my mind is burdened with countless impurities accumulated over lifetimes. No amount of ritual cleanses me. The grime of the past clings, and I remain the same. What must I do to be freed? How can I wash away the stains of my mind?’”

Guru Arjan Sahib listened with compassion and explained that the human mind carries filth gathered over countless cycles of existence. The giani recited Guru Amardas Sahib’s words:

ਜਨਮ ਜਨਮ ਕੀ ਇਸੁ ਮਨ ਕਉ ਮਲੁ ਲਾਗੀ ॥
ਕਾਲਾ ਹੂਆ ਸਿਆਹ ਦੁਰਮਤਿ ਛਾਗੀ ॥
ਤਉ ਊਜਲੁ ਹੋਵੈ ਸਤਿਗੁਰ ਸੰਗੀ ॥
ਜਲ ਕਾ ਮਲੁ ਜੈਸੇ ਨਿਰਮਲ ਭੰਗੀ ॥੧॥

The filth of countless lifetimes clings to this mind;
It has become blackened, darkened by corrupt thinking.
It becomes pure only in the company of the Eternal Guru,
Just as water cleanses dirt.

     Guru Granth Sahib 651

The giani explained: “The grime of the mind cannot be washed by water. Ritual baths, even countless ones, cannot cleanse it. Only Nam, the subtle, transformative force, can purify. Until the mind is dyed in Nam, true cleansing is impossible.”

As I listened, Murari’s longing did not feel distant. It surfaced unexpectedly within me, taking the shape of a whispered truth: There is darkness within me. You don’t see it.

I know that ache.
I know that honesty.
And I know that even to recognize one’s own darkness is grace.
That naming is the first glimmer of light.

Murari, humbled and yearning, pleaded again:

“O True Sovereign, bless me with the gift of Nam, so my mind may be cleansed and adorned with grace.”

Seeing his sincerity, Guru Arjan Sahib bestowed Nam upon him and instructed him to chant it with unwavering devotion. As Murari immersed himself in Nam, the weight of karmas lifted, and his heart grew radiant.

This was no longer a story. It felt like an inheritance, an ember meant for me.

Guru Amardas Sahib says:

ਬਾਬਾਣੀਆ ਕਹਾਣੀਆ ਪੁਤ ਸਪੁਤ ਕਰੇਨਿ ॥
Tell those stories of the wise that turn progenies into able inheritors.

     Guru Granth Sahib 951

These are not stories to be archived.
They are inheritances—
carried as whispers,
as seeds planted in the heart,
as quiet shapings of who we become.

Murari’s longing joined my own.
His plea began to guide my own ask.

The giani then quoted Bhai Sahib Bhai Vir Singh. I paraphrase his teaching: “Nam first acts like soap, washing away the mind of accumulated lifetimes of filth. Then it becomes the dye that colors the being in divine love. First, it removes impurities; then, it transforms the being. Without this process, no external washing can cleanse the stains of ego and illusion. Nam purifies, then Nam transforms. However, if one seeks Nam only for worldly relief rather than true union, they have misunderstood its purpose.”

Hearing Bhai Sahib’s words filled me with warmth. He is the one I call my spiritual grandfather. I never met him, yet his presence has walked with me through storms, held me in uncertainty, and carried me back toward the Guru.
Will I ever develop the intimacy he had? Perhaps the longing itself is part of the inheritance.

As the discourse returned to its core, its simplicity stayed with me:

“Guru Sahib teaches us what to ask for. Ask only for Nam. Nothing else accompanies us; only Nam unites us with the One.”

And so, I found myself returning again and again to that single phrase:

ਮਾਗਉ ਦਾਨੁ ਠਾਕੁਰ ਨਾਮੁ ॥
Ask for the Nam of the Sovereign.

The sakhi, the wisdom, the poetry, the Gurbani all point toward the same truth:
Purification is not of the body.
Transformation is not external.
Everything begins with Nam.

I sit with this.
I let it work within me.
Quietly. Persistently.

Perhaps this is the true inheritance:
not just stories,
but the longing they awaken;
not just words,
but the grace they carry.

What else is there to ask for?
Nothing else will go with me.

And so, I ask again:‍

Grant me the gift of Nam, for only Your grace can unite me with the One.