I feel guilty.
In the morning before leaving my home, I opened my siblings' room door and saw them, 9 and 5 years of age, sleeping under warm duvets admist the cold air-con. I remembered the chotey sahibzade who had to cross the treacherous river, separated from their mothers, brothers and father, who had to endure sleeplessness, hunger and danger, with mata gujar kaur Ji.
While I'm wearing warm clothes in the rainy season I remember gurudev, his family and his singh's who endured the harshest of colds, getting wet in the sirsa river only made it worse.
While I have gourmet cuisine for lunch and besan burfi, I remember they only had a handful of chickpeas for nourishment.
While I type this with an iPhone in my hand, I remember them holding khandas and teghas and barshey in their hand, ready to face death and rewrite history.
I feel guilty.
For not being a good sikh, for not following gurudev's instructions.
Don't you?