By Dr Jasbiante Kaur | Experience |
I am a Sabah-born Sikh woman with a Panjabi-Dusun-Kadazan mix parentage. I am currently the fourth generation of mix Panjabi-Sabah ethnic mix descent from my ancestors who came from India during World World Two (WW2).
Waheguruji gave me a Christian (Dusun) mother and a Sikh (Panjabi-Kadazan) father.
Brought up in a mixed environment, I am blessed to be introduced to both Christianity and Sikhism at an early age. Church and Gurdwara visits were a norm as both my parents were staunch in their faiths.
It wasn’t until the age of 11 that one day I sat down and read an illustrated colour comic version of the children’s Bible. I sat from 8pm to 11pm reading the Bible. By the time of the cruxifiction of Christ, my heart was pounding in pain and the sacrifice of Christ brought me to tears with unknown heartache.
Just before heading to bed, I thought to myself , let’s read about Sikhism, for I am Kaur after all. I knew little but enough to identify myself. I picked up the colour illustrated comic English version of the 10 Sikh Gurus. Reading through Sri Guru Nanak Sahib Ji and his teachings, the questions came up in my mind:
Who is God? Why does everyone love Him so much that they would sacrifice themselves for Him? Where is God ? How can we find Him?
Guru ji’s teachings intrigued me. It led me to read Sri Guru Angad Dev Ji and the next sakhis (stories) until Sri Guru Arjan Dev Ji came.
The shaheed (martyrs) and sacrifice of my Guru pierced my heart. By this time, Love of God had welled up within me and tears flowed. My pain continued to Sri Guru Tegh Bahadur Ji, Chaar Sahibzadey and Sri Guru Gobind Singh Ji. By now, my eyes were swollen. I had cried and cried for hours. As I finished reading about Maharaj Ranjit Singh, it was sunrise.
The journey of learning Gurmukhi, Rehraas, Japji and Keertan began at the age of 12.
Waheguruji would give me Bairaag (Love of God) at times and would leave me wondering where it all went to at times. Thus began the journey of learning to find Waheguruji from within.
PART 1: You will never walk alone
PART 2: “Don’t trust too easily, especially men”
PART 3: Some eyes refused to meet mine
At 15, I wished to get 7A’s in the PMR examination. My Jijaji, Pritam Singh, was the brother of Dr. Jasbir Singh, lovingly known as Fatherji to so many. Fatherji had passed a message through Jijaji to tell me: Recite the full bani “Keeta Lorhia Kamn, So Har Peh Aakheeay, Karaj Deh Savaar, Satgur Sach Saakheay” and Mool Mantar five times before you sleep and when you wake up in the morning. Then make your wish to Waheguruji.
I did so that entire year, not missing a single day, and studied hard. My results came out in December. My heart was pounding as I received the result slip. Upon glancing, Waheguruji had given me 7As. I fell to the ground in tears.
Waheguruji then gave me another gift. My father had purchased flights for us siblings to go for our first Annual Gurmat Parchaar Samelan (Sikh camps run by the Sikh Naujawan Sabha Malaysia, a Kuala Lumpur Sikh-youth based body) in the Peninsular Malaysia. We were overjoyed! It was the theSeremban 2002 samelan with the theme “Aavoh Sikh Satgur ke Pyariho, Gaavoh Sachee Banee.”
Through the thrilling adventure of the samelan, the inspiration sessions (IPS) before the last day awakened something within me. The story of the blind Gursikh so in love with wanting to see Sri Guru Hargobind Sahib ji that after Guru ji healed his eyes and he was able to see Guruji, he wished to be blind again so he would live only seeing Gurujis darshan (vision).
The shabad “Tu Meri Patt, Tu Hai Mera gehnaa, Tujh Bin Nimakh na Jaee Rehnaa” was sung in the darbar. Unable to control my pain, I ran to the washroom, wailing in tears.
Waheguruji blessed me with Khande ke Pahul Guru Amrit (Sikh initiation) the next day.
At 17, I attended my third Samelan. I felt blessed to have meet Veerji Sukhinderpal Singh. He invited me up on the stage in samelan one day, and supported me through reading my first Hukumnama in the presence of the sanggat (congregation). He also supported the Sabahan team to participate in Keertan competition that year. And we did.
One day, he sat down with me as I asked about how to recieve Guruji’s Darshan (seeing the vision of Guru). He patted my back, saying in a high spirited voice: “Don’t be so obsessed with wanting to see Waheguru. If He wishes, He will meet you! Even if we have been blessed to see Him, then what? You will still have to battle Kaam, Krodh, Lobh, Moh, Ahangkaar even more than usual. Guru’s Darshan is everywhere, I look at you and I see Him!”
He waved his Liverpool wallet, and with a smile, he said: “Remember! You will never walk alone! Guru Mere Sang Sadaa Hai Naaley!”
At another Annual Samelan, I met with Bhenji Joginder Kaur who happen to be my jatha facilitator. One day, I saw Bhenji in one of the dorms. Her face had a halo like glow, as I saw her ironing the beautiful shining yellow Bana of the Panj Pyare for Amrit Sanchaar ceremony. She was rapt in the seva, reciting Japji Sahib with so much of love in her eyes.
The next day, I saw her marching forth as one of the Panj Pyare, wearing a wonderous dastaar, with a huge talwaar (sword) in her hands. She was the first woman Panj Pyare I ever saw. Love and awe welled up in my heart, tears rolled down my eyes as she walked past. I was extremely proud of her and she always stayed in my heart.
The journey of practicing Sikhi involved learning Gurmukhi, reading Gurmat and books written by Gursikhs like Sant Niranjan Singh — Miracle of Ardaas and From Manmukh to Gurmukh — and Bhai Randheer Singh and many more. Inspired by Snatam Kaur, Miri Piri Academy and meeting many Gursikh women, at the age of 18, Guru Maharaj inspired me to don a Dastaar.
Being the only female teen in Sabah wearing a Dastaar to high school was a shock to the entire community, including my own Sikh community in Sabah. I received some positives feedbacks. But most were largely negative, with katha being told against women wearing dastaar to being mocked in school or wherever I go. Not looking like a typical Panjaban, more like a Malay mix girl, I even got angry looks and mocks from Muslims.
Through this, my father stood by me, shutting everyone down, sending letters to school and meeting with the principal. He would support my amritvela (dawn prayter), parkaash and sukhaasan seva in Gurdwara. When there was no Granthiji/care taker at the Gurdwara, he would sleep in front of the locked Darbaar door on the cold floor, his backpack as a pillow, holding a huge talwaar under his shawl, guarding the Gurdwara for many months until a replacement Gianiji came. My father is, and always will be, my Hero.
I remember the first day I wore dastaar to high school. I did ardaas and asked for strength to walk through this. I kept repeating to myself “GURU Meray Sang Sada Hai Naaley! You will never walk alone!” And I didn’t walk alone. Guru Gobind Singh Ji held my hand and Shaheedis stood around me wherever I went.
PART TWO, CLICK HERE.
RELATED STORY:
Navigating Traditions: The Journey of a British-born Sikh (Asia Samachar, 5 Oct 2023)
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