The Book of Nanak

by Navtej Sarna

  Kartarpur

  At Kartarpur, Nanak took off his travel garb and wore the ordinary clothes of a householder. He had travelled for more than two decades in all directions. He had met and talked to all kinds of people and dispelled as he went along the forces of darkness, the mists of superstition and the overpowering confines of ritual. He had spread far his message of true love, equality and compassion, truth and truthful living. He had explained through his discourses the all-pervasive, timeless nature of the creator. Now it was time to show in practical terms that renunciation and asceticism were not the answer to life’s challenge. True religious discipline had to be forged while living in the world, amidst all its challenges and temptations, troubles and joys.

  The community at Kartarpur grew steadily. Men of all callings and faiths—householders and ascetics, destitute mendicants and wealthy merchants, Brahmins and dervishes, Hindus and Muslims, came there, drawn by the message of piety and humanity. A number of traditions were started at Kartarpur, in particular the traditions of kirtan and langar.

  Mardana, who had played his rabab in tune with the Guru’s hymns in faraway places, played the rabab at Kartarpur too. Prayers from the Guru’s compositions were recited at different hours of the day—the Japji and the Asa di Var in the early hours of the morning, the Sodar in the evenings, and the Sohila before retiring. The Guru’s shabads, or hymns, were sung in chorus. Thus was born the tradition of kirtan, the singing of divine compositions usually by a congregation of devotees (sangat) that induces a mood of contemplation of God’s name.

  The Kartarpur community started the great Sikh tradition of langar, the community kitchen where the rich and poor eat the same food together, irrespective of social standing or caste or rank. Langar symbolizes brotherhood and encourages humility. Men and women vie with each other in its preparation, be it the cutting of vegetables, making chapattis, serving the food or cleaning up the leaf platters. All the tasks are considered sewa, or voluntary physical service for the good of the community.

  But the idea of langar was initially not accepted readily by everyone. The Puratan janamsakhi tells the tale of a Brahmin who came to visit the Guru but refused to eat food cooked in the common kitchen. He wanted to dig up the earth, make his own hearth, clean his firewood and consecrate his kitchen before cooking his food. Unfortunately for him, no matter where he began to dig, he found only bones. Finally, tired and hungry, he came back to Guru Nanak and requested that he be given food. The Guru’s bani captures it as follows:

  The hearth may be paved with gold,

  Of gold be the pots and pans,

  And the vast square be marked with silver lines,

  The water be from the Ganges,

  The firewood from the yajnas,

  And the food fine rice boiled in milk;

  These are all of no account, my soul

  If the True Name does not absorb thee.

  —Raga Basant

  A number of close and faithful disciples gathered around the Guru at Kartarpur. Some of their names are mentioned by Bhai Gurdas in one of his vars: Bhai Budda, Taru Popat and Moola Keer. Taru Popat was but a child of ten when he came to Guru Nanak and sought his blessings. Nanak observed that he was young and wondered how he had learnt the right way so early in life. Popat replied that he had once seen a fire being lit by his mother. He had noticed that the smaller logs always caught fire before the big logs. So it would be easier for him, as a child, to find a Guru and seek the path to salvation. Guru Nanak gave him the name of Taru, meaning a swimmer who would carry himself and his followers across the troubled waters of existence.

  Moola Keer was another disciple who gained the Guru’s love by his belief in the honour of his faith. He treated all who came to his house with love, and offered them food and a bed to rest. One day a Sikh who knew much of the scriptures but had not absorbed the message came to his house. When Moola and his wife had retired for the night, the guest picked up the wife’s gold ornaments. In the morning, Moola opened the door to bid his guest goodbye, but as the man was leaving the house, the bag of the ornaments dropped and the gold bangles fell on the ground. Moola picked them up, put them in the bag, gave the bag to the guest and bade him farewell. When his wife could not find her ornaments, Moola told her that a thief must have broken into the house and taken the ornaments away. Then he had new ornaments made for his wife. He resorted to all this simply because he did not wish that anyone who called himself a Sikh should be associated with such a deed.

  Baba Budda, who lived up to the age of 125 years, was only a twelve-year-old boy called Bura when Guru Nanak found him in a field, grazing his cattle. He brought the Guru a bowl of milk and requested him, ‘I am fortunate to have seen you. Deliver me now from the endless circuit of life and death.’ The Guru told him that he was but a child and asked him the source of his wisdom. Bura replied that he had once seen a group of soldiers mowing down ripe as well as unripe crops with their swords. He had then thought that the hand of death could also deliver the young and the old alike. Why not then seek salvation when young? The Guru was impressed that Bura spoke not as a child but as a wise old man. That is how Bura acquired the name of Budda, the old man. Baba Budda lived to see five Sikh Gurus and became one of the most respected members of the community. When the Granth Sahib was first installed in the Hari Mandir Sahib at Amritsar in 1604, Bhai Budda was appointed the first Granthi, or custodian of the book.

  It was at Kartarpur that Lehna, who was to later become the second Sikh Guru, Angad Dev, came to Nanak. Lehna, who belonged to Khadur village, was a worshipper of the goddess Durga and used to lead an annual procession to the Jawalamukhi temple. In his village lived a man called Jodha who was a follower of Guru Nanak. One day Lehna heard the Sikh sing the Guru’s hymns. He was deeply touched by the hymns and yearned to meet Guru Nanak. On his next trip to Jawalamukhi, Lehna stopped at Kartarpur for a meeting with the Guru.

  The Guru asked him his name.

  ‘Lehna,’ he replied.

  ‘You had to receive your debt from here. That is why you have come.’ (In Punjabi, Lehna means the credit that one has to receive.)

  Lehna did not go to Jawalamukhi temple to worship the goddess but stayed on at Kartarpur. He became an obedient and humble disciple who ceaselessly performed all the service that he could for the community. After three years, having attained tranquillity and peace, he went back to his village where he was greeted with reverence by his kinsman. Lehna, however, was soon to return to Kartarpur and once there, he went to meet Guru Nanak in the fields. There he volunteered to pick up a load of grass on his head. The mud dripped from the grass on to his fine clothes. Bebe Sulakhani asked Guru Nanak, ‘Why is it that one from such a good family, with such nice clothes should carry a load of wet grass on his head?’

  ‘This is not wet grass,’ replied Nanak. ‘It is the tiara of sovereignty.’

  When Guru Nanak had reached the age of sixty-one, he, along with some disciples including Bhai Lehna, made a short trip across the Ravi to Achal near Batala on the occasion of Shivratri. They met a large gathering of holy men, acrobats, musicians, yogis and Siddhas. When the devotees who had gathered on the occasion heard of Guru Nanak’s arrival, they surged forward to meet him. Angry at this, the Siddhas began to question and taunt Guru Nanak.

  One of them, Bhangar Nath, questioned his apparent worldliness. ‘Why did you give up your religious clothes and wear those of the world? Your action is like adding vinegar to milk and souring it.’ Nanak replied that in their case, the butter had gone rancid since the churning vessels had been dirty. They had turned into ascetics and yet went begging to households for food. This only angered the Siddhas further. According to the janamsakhis, in their anger, some Siddhas became lions, others flew like birds, some turned into serpents while others brought down
a rain of fire. Guru Nanak sat through this demonstration calmly and proclaimed the power of the word over all such acts. Ultimately the Siddhas gave up and acknowledged that it was the supreme god who was the true force and could not be comprehended by performing miracles. The name of God was the only true miracle.

  Meanwhile Mardana, the companion of Guru Nanak for forty-seven years, was becoming ill and weak. As his last moments drew near, the Guru asked Mardana what should be done with his mortal remains. Should his body be entombed? Mardana said that he had overcome the pride of his body. If the Guru was releasing his soul from the cage of his body, then why enclose the body itself in stone? Mardana then fixed his mind on God, the creator, and just before dawn the next day, passed from this world. Guru Nanak consigned his body to the Ravi river to the singing of hymns and prayers. Guru Nanak then asked Mardana’s son Shahzada to take his father’s place and accompany him as a musician thenceforth.

  Guru Nanak knew that the time would soon come for him too to depart from the mortal world. But before that there was the need to anoint a successor, so that the message of God’s name would not end with his own mortal life. Nanak’s choice fell not on either of his sons but on Lehna, the devoted and humble disciple. In a simple ceremony, Guru Nanak put five copper coins and a coconut before Lehna and gave him the name of Angad, part of his own limb. Baba Budda put the saffron tilak on Lehna’s forehead. This established that Guruship among the Sikhs would not necessarily be hereditary; the torch would pass to the one most akin in spirit and not in blood. Secondly, the community of Sikhs would not be a community of ascetics or those who had renounced the world, like Sri Chand, Guru Nanak’s elder son. It would be a community of householders, a religion that sought to live in the real world, on its own terms.

  When finally the time came for the Guru to depart from this mortal world, he went and sat under an acacia tree. The withered tree was touched by sudden spring, sprouting new leaves and flowers. The Guru’s disciples, both Hindu and Muslim, gathered around him. Guru Nanak asked them not to despair or weep. He reminded them that this was the way of all flesh:

  O brethren, remember the Lord,

  For all have to pass this way.

  —Raga Wadhans

  As he lay down to prepare for eternal repose, the sangat sang the Kirtan Sohila:

  Where the Lord’s praise is sung,

  And where men contemplate on Him,

  Sing there the song of praise

  And remember the Maker.

  Praise then thou my Fearless Lord,

  I sacrifice myself for the song that brings

  Eternal comfort.

  Day after day, the Great Giver

  Watches over His Creation,

  Cares for one and all.

  The gifts of the Lord are priceless;

  How then can we estimate the Giver?

  The date and year of marriage is written;

  Together pour, the oil of welcome

  At the threshold

  Give me your blessings, O friends,

  That I may unite with my Master

  The writ goes from house to house,

  The summons arrive everyday,

  Remember then the One who calls,

  Nanak, the day is not far away.

  The Guru then covered himself with a sheet and his soul departed its mortal confines. His Muslim and Hindu disciples began to argue over the manner of disposal of his remains. The Muslims said that he had been their pir so he should be buried; the Hindus, on the other hand, claimed his body for cremation. It was then decided by the wise men of both religions that flowers be kept besides his body by both groups, and the group whose flowers remained fresh in the morning may claim him. But when morning came, the flowers offered by the Hindus were as fresh as those offered by the Muslims, and when they removed the sheet that covered the body, they found only flowers. Even in his act of departing his mortal form, the messenger had left his message. Truly it is said:

  Nanak the pious

  Guru to the Hindu, Pir to the Mussalman.

  The Teachings

  Every year, when the birthday of Guru Nanak is celebrated in countless gurdwaras on Kartik Purnima, the congregations inevitably sing the shabad contained in the first var of Bhai Gurdas:

  When Guru Nanak appeared in this world

  The mists lifted, there was light everywhere,

  Like, with the rising of the sun

  Stars hide and darkness retreats,

  Like, at the roaring of a lion

  The deer flee . . .

  —Var 1, 27

  Bhai Gurdas’s verse contains two important pointers regarding Guru Nanak’s mission on earth. First, the society into which Nanak was born, the world that he inherited, was in dire need of redemption. There was much that was wrong. There was ignorance and sin, corruption and oppression. Men had forgotten the way to salvation; the eternal truths had been lost in empty ritualism and blind superstition. External manifestations of religion were all that mattered; caste and sect ruled the life of men; the guardians of faith had become the oppressors. Those who tired of the world looked for a way out in its renunciation.

  Secondly, Guru Nanak arrived in such a world as a redeemer. He was armed with a divine mission and he spoke as a divine witness, ‘As the Lord sends his Word, so do I deliver it, O Lalo.’ He was sensitive to the prevailing situation, the chaos and the confusion. He was unsparing in his criticism, often laced with sarcasm and humour, of the moral decay that had set in and of those who were responsible for it—kings and officials, godmen and yogis, Brahmins and Qazis. His mission was to dispel ignorance, contradict falsehood and impart a practical and ethical direction to religion. His audience did not belong to one particular religion or sect; the world was his canvas and his message was for all mankind. For in his view, all men were truly equal. His teachings were not a condemnation of any religion; rather, they were intended to underline the verities of tolerance and humanism inherent in each religion and remove the distortions. Guru Nanak’s philosophy advocated an approach to life that seamlessly combines belief, thought and action. He put forward this philosophy in a myriad ways—through his own example, through his tireless travels, through his discourses with the learned men of all faiths, through the community that evolved around him at Kartarpur and perhaps, most of all, through his hymns, sung in praise of the supreme reality.

  To try and encapsulate this philosophy in a few pages would be an overly ambitious task and one doomed to be incomplete. A focus on some of the cardinal principles may provide a better alternative.

  The Mul Mantra, or the opening stanza of the Japji, encapsulates Guru Nanak’s idea of the supreme reality. Here Nanak says that there is but one God and true is his name. He is the all-pervading creator, fearless, without any enemy, timeless, without birth, and self-existent. He can be realized only through God’s own grace. In this fundamental creed, the Guru captures the sublime essentials of God, doing away with all that may come in the way of enlightenment.

  The creator created all existence. When He did it or how is not known, nor can the human mind know the extent of the creation. But this creation, this universe, this world is no dream. It is real. It changes, decays, dies and renews. God, the cherisher, sustains his creation through the ages.

  The spiritual evolution of the soul is possible in this world itself, salvation can be found in life. The various khands or stages of this evolution are: Dharma (righteousness), Jnana (knowledge), Saram (effort), Karm (grace) and Sach (truth). Man need not wait for heaven to seek deliverance or moksha. The jivanmukta is one who finds deliverance in this world itself by good deeds or by God’s grace. His grace can be attai
ned through contemplation of his name, and the five evils that persist in man—lust, anger, greed, attachment and ego—can be overcome.

  The spirit of affirmation is an essential aspect of Guru Nanak’s teachings. The world is real, it is a part of God’s creation. It has to be accepted as a reflection of divine purpose. Man’s duty is to live in it in such a way that he lives above the impurities, that he improves the condition of fellow human beings by love and compassion, by service and devotion. Renunciation is emphatically rejected. The answer does not lie in withdrawal from this world, in wandering in jungles with the body smeared in ash or meditating in isolation in snowy retreats. Guru Nanak supported institutions like marriage, family and society, and brought them within the ambit of religion.

  The concept of the Guru finds frequent mention in the Sikh scriptures. It stands as much for the human preceptor as for God. The Guru acts as a guide who places the seeker on the right path to salvation, but the disciple must walk the hard way himself.

  Practical virtue is stressed rather than abstract piety. The exhortations are remarkable in their simplicity: Kirt karo (do work), Nam japo (meditate on his name) and Vand chako (share in charity). Service, love and devotion are the essentials. In the words of Dr Radhakrishnan, Guru Nanak believed in ‘religion as realization, anubhava’.

  It follows naturally that Guru Nanak rejected formalism and orthodoxy in religion. Man’s journey had to be inwards rather than in the form of ceremonial pilgrimages. He questioned the hypocritical cant that passed for religion and the hidebound practices that the ordinary populace endured from birth to death without thinking of the essential ethical issues involved. He stressed the uselessness of charms and mantras, idolatory and ceremony. His purpose was to liberate the human spirit from the clutches of the priestly classes and the various monastic orders whose vested interest lay in making religion abstruse. Naturally he drew the ire of the orthodoxy—the Brahmins, the Qazis, the Siddhas and hathayogis. His message, however, was aimed at the common masses, both Hindu as well as the Muslim populace.