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puzzled last won the day on July 4

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  1. I had read that gandhi had called Guru Gobind Singh ji a "misguided patriot" but i thought it was false, but professor Puran Singh mentions it in his article and he was a contemporary of gandhi, gandhi really was a egoistical little man who believed he was on a divine mission and that his way was the only way. Anyway really beautiful article.
  2. GURU GOBIND SINGH JI : BY PROF. PURAN SINGH Author/Source: Prof. Puran Singh Ji SAHIB-E-KAMAAL This article is a poetic meditation on the ‘Rider of the Blue Steed,’ the Tenth Guru. The special feature of Puran Singh’s articulation is that it is a free intermix of the conceptual and emotional, distinguished from the cerebral hermeneutic of the West. Guru Gobind Singh emerges from the dimension in which an unusual integrity of the antahkaran (mind, soul, conscience, heart,and understanding) begins to envision everything in real and symbolic terms, simultaneously. On a cautionary note, one shall not commit a literalistic fallacy that occurs due to one’s being naïve about the symbolic and phenomenological operations of the mind. The punctuations and spellings have been amended to reflect the contemporary parlance; NO word is added or omitted. The original rendition of the article is not known; this version is adapted from a journal titled Puran Singh Studies, Vol. 1-2, Jan-Apr 1981, Panjabi University, Patiala.] Guru Gobind Singh Ji They of India have not understood Him. Gandhi calls him a "misguided patriot." Men of this world, who wish to comprehend Truth by their own intellectual measures, are forever incapable of understanding the true nature of Inspiration, which is the life-breath of the really great. Whenever they approach such inscrutable personalities, they make but grotesque estimates. After centuries of intellectual advancement, they stand still exactly on the same spot, utterly incapable. In one age to them, Joan of Arc is but a witch and the end of the intellectual justice is to case her in fire. Today the ghost of non-violence is let loose and Guru Gobind Singh is a "misguided patriot." Christ says, "Judge not." Because we are not omniscient nor seers of all the three times – past, present, and future – it is impossible for us to judge truly even common fellowmen like ourselves, in spite of an intimate contact and even identity of our natures and motives. Much more difficult becomes our forming opinions about beings who have in their inner nature, transcended our plane of existence. The intellectuals who are great, who are famous these days, at best, are but synthetic personalities, the mere laboratory products of the systems of the schools of man-made, mind-born Ethics, and are but toy replicas of the great, whose conduct is spontaneous, whose character is the radiation of the sun. They are the products of those mysterious cosmic processes, which make the sun and the moon. For the dead toy replicas of the great it becomes physically impossible to analyze the inner motives of the beings of immortal inspiration. All opinions expressed by such lower men about those who live, move and have their being in acceptance of the cosmic inspiration, are as false as the opinion of the clergy who declared Joan of Arc a witch and sentenced her to be burnt alive. Sword is the symbol of the creative processes of that mysterious incomprehensible Creator-Complex of nature. Nature is not Creation they say, it is spontaneous evolution they say; it is not Being they say, it is Eternal Becoming they say; it is not spiritual they say, it is material and mechanical they say; it is all electrical substance they say; it is not soul they say; but only the insane doubt now that it is a complex. No one view can define it accurately. Guru Gobind Singh sees the flash of the sword in this dark mystery complex. He sings his "Song of Sword" and by its cadence transmutes the miserable wretched people of Punjab, not into temporal kings, a miracle, which even an ordinary worldly man of empire carving ambitions like Sivaji, could perform in transmuting his mercenary soldiers into Peshwas, but into Phula Singh Akalis. Cut these disciples of Guru Gobind Singh as they did cut Bhai Mani Singh, instead of blood, the nectar of inspiration flows from their veins. The name of the Eternal resounds in their bones and as they of the world sawed them asunder, only that glorious cadence (Sat Nam) was in response to the axe strokes. His disciples rose all of a sudden from nowhere, as Superman, who were, as the same time, like the clouds of the sky, raining as they were bidden to rain, and striking down like the bolt of heaven as they were bidden. Not protest but obedience was their creed. Their protest was one with the protest of the Divine Creator complex, called Hukam by Guru Nanak in Japji, and it shone in the Image of Sword seen by Guru Gobind Singh. The Khalsa came ready made from Him … that blue-wearing Superman, armed from head to foot wholly dedicated, ready to die – the historian says, as Minerva from Jupiter – a highly explosive personality, showering both nectar and thunder, as the merest tool of the Cosmic Complex. In human history there is no example of such transcendent inspiration, unless we go and see the personalities imbued with the Bushido spirit of Japan, as transmuted by the spirit of the great Tathagata. I have often said that Guru Gobind Singh created a spiritual Japan in the Punjab out of His spirit and he can be sympathetically understood only by the Bushido spirit of Japan as informed of Buddhism. Riding His Blue Horse, clad in the robe of the whole starry Heaven, and followed by His Five Horsemen, he goes riding by the doors of His lowly disciples still and as the horses strike the rocks, the sleeping ones awaken still and sing: O King of Purple eternity, who loves us, Who comes and lies with us at, Night unknown to us, Comforting us in our distress, O Weaver of the Crest Jewel of all-Godliness, all-Humanity, Come and meet us the peasants of the Punjab. O Glorious Guru Gobind Singh! Come ride through our hearts, Come ride through our eyes. Guru Gobind Singh is the Indweller of Souls. He is the vision that vitalizes the decaying the finite centers of life with the touch of the Infinite. Name Him and you are transported. Name Him and you ride very death to His Door. Woe be for the day, who, surrendering their soul to the false brilliance of any intellect, the disciples of the Glorious Guru would turn their back on Him – once before in history, they did so. The disciples left Him at Anandpur. But they found no place to go to. Wives denied their husbands, mothers their sons, sisters their brothers – for the Punjabi Sikh woman truly saw there is no life but with Him. What is the world without Him? So they died. So they lived. Said Khan the Moghul General doubted. All have intellects, not only the modern subtle-minded Hindu. Guru Gobind Singh came riding His Horse to him in his camp. Sayeed Khan leveled his gun at Him. It missed the Guru. He was asked to try again. Said Khan put his head on the Guru’s feet. He was informed. The camp lay where it was. The armies of the Moghul still besieged Anandpur. But Sayeed Khan went up to the hills singing Him, as a maiden, falling in love with her man, renounces all and sink into the depths of life. But the Guru does not show Himself to those who have not entered the shrine of Acceptance, who have not understood Reverence, who have no wonder in their eyes, and who love not the spiritual Beauty, which transmutes man into angels in an instant. Perfection is in His Glance. There is no standard in the East or in the West by which these intellectuals can form an idea of the inspiration of the Infinite. It was a stream that flowed to Him, which He received within Himself. "I was," said he, "Reluctant to come here on this earth. But I came." My soul is still engulfed in that current of Inspiration-Infinite. He came and he went. Only the trail of his garment, still shines, the sound of the hoofs of His steed is still audible. Wrapped in that shining garment, listening to that sound, we go daily where He is. This is the religion of His Disciples. Our eyes are red with the glory that He has shed on our paths. And we go on. His sword waves the lightning flashes in the cloud-filled sky, but it rains after the centuries of oppressing heat. "Man is the Temple, Let this flame burn within there, As the Lamp of the Eternal, They are my Khalsa, In whose hearts burns this Inspiration Of the Infinite, day and night. The story undimmed, He is the pure." (Prof. Puran Singh)
  3. Its difficult to become humble as these great sants of the past It's so easy to get wound up and start arguing with someone, its so hard not to react when someone says something to you and just stand there and ignore it. While these sants were so humble and took whatever people called them. I'v lost count the number of times i'v had a row with people in public over silly little things! its a egoistical thing isn't, standing there quite just feels like defeat, which is just your ego basically. It's like the story of a sant trying to save a scorpion that was drowning in the river and every time he went in to save the scorpion it would sting his hand and he would let go, and then he went in to save it again and it stung him again, and then he did it again.
  4. Bhagat Puran Singh - My Mother painting of Bhagat Puran Singh with Piara Singh - "the garland around my neck" My Mother An article by Bagat Puran Singh While studying in Khanna, Punjab, India once I went to meet my mother in Lahore (now in Pakistan). At this time she was working in Sir Ganga Ram Hospital. When I reached there, my mother only thought was that she should take me to pay obeisance at the Shiv Mandir (Hindu temple) of the locality and Gurdwara Dera Sahib. At this time I was a Hindu boy named Ramjidas. I was a follower of Shiv Mandir and was not a Sikh. In the Shiv Mandir I saw no personal service being done. There was no devotional singing in praise of deity, no place for the travellers to stay, no free kitchen, and hardly anyone came to pay obeisance. There was a priest sitting quietly in a small house. No religious book was being read. Gurdwara Dera Sahib is one of the most important pilgrimage center of the Sikhs. When I reached Gurdwara Dera Sahib I was surprised to see the gaiety and environment of that place. In the early morning Asa di War was recited and in the evening Rehras. Every morning and evening many people would come to listen to the Words of the Gurus. This Gurdwara is situated on the G T Road running from Peshawar to Calcutta. Devotees kept coming throughout the day. Many travellers would also come to take food from the common kitchen (Langar) or to pay obeisance at the Gurdwara. The common kitchen opened at about 10 or 11 o'clock and remained open at night also. Every night 25-30 travellers would come to the Gurdwara to stay; they were all served food from the common kitchen. This culture of the Gurdwaras deeply affected me. My Mother's instructions From my childhood, my mother had asked me to do personal service to all the creations of God. This tender and distinct feelings of virtuous tasks was ingrained in my mind. My mother had taught me to provide water for the animals, plant trees and water newly planted saplings, offer feed to the sparrows, crows and mynahs, pick up thorns from the paths, and remove the stones from cart tracks. This had embedded the Name of the Almighty in my heart. She had entrusted me to the custody of Gurdwara Dera Sahib and started me on a path of virtuous living; by following this path your mind can never waver. For five years she did not spend anything on herself. She would send her entire monthly earning of Rs.10 (which converts to 25 cents or 12.5 pence) to me each month. The servants in the house sometimes have to eat stale or left-over chapattis; my mother used to eat whatever was given to her. She also used to get old and used clothes from the house where she was working, so she would save her entire income of ten rupees and send it all to me by money order. Memory of my hard working Mother While at home in the month of Kartrik, my mother used to get up early in the morning and go for a bath at the village pond. This pond was constructed by my father. Thereafter, she would recite Japji Sahib, churn the curds, then prepare the breakfast. Throughout the day she would sit at her spinning wheel or gin the cotton seeds. A mother, who would draw water from the village well throughout the day during summer months for the travellers and the animals; never sit idle; always keep the Name of the Almighty in her heart; recite Japji Sahib in the morning; had to put in my heart fear and respect for God. God has really blessed me that till today I have been able to keep my vow taken before my mother of remaining a bachelor with full purity of heart. If I were not to fulfil my vow it would have been a matter of great dishonour for my life. Curse of God would have remained over me always. I am thankful to God that the vow taken before my mother is always in my mind and keeps me alert. It keeps me engrossed in His name throughout the day. It keeps reminding me some of the most of the virtuous Sikhs like:- Akali Kaur Singh Nihang, Sant Kishan Singh, Sant Attar Singh Mastooana, Sant Harbhajan Singh Raj of Bani Amrit Parchar Sangat. It keeps me busy in various tasks of service and devotion and urges me to pray, "Oh God! Keep alive my Cripple" who has a mind like that of a child. His childlike antics keep me happy. His activities and my care for him keeps me in contact with God and makes me pray that I should continue to look after the Cripple, keep him healthy and happy. Watching his antics also helps me in leading a happy and contended life. To do all this I should keep my life pious and virtuous and should not allow even a single evil thought to enter my mind.
  5. I reckon this alcohol problem go'es back to the times of the Islamic invasions. Punjab faced the worst of these invasions and i guess the men took to alcohol as an escape from reality. It would be interesting to know about alcohol consumption in Punjab during the invasions. Punjabi people have been a very depressed and defeated people for a very long time, constant fear and anxiety so it would be no surprise if they took to alcohol until it became a part of the "culture" Punjabis on the other side of the border have very bad reputation with alcohol has well in their own country. Paki Punjabi man that used to live opposite our house was a heavy drinker and back in the 90s he drove his car right into the house and they ended up with a hole in their house, this behavior happens a lot among them back in their country. So it would interesting to see where this obsession came from. Its so deeply rooted in people. makes you think if it will ever go away. Families really need to star putting their foot down because otherwise it will just spill into the next generation, i mean have people not had enough of it ?
  6. I worked in retail but like in the warehouse part and the ladies who worked on the shop floor had to let men dressed as women into the female changing rooms! One of my friends worked on the shopfloor and she saw a man with a beard wearing a dress and he wanted to try a dress on and she was so disturbed she rang the manager and asked the manager a man wants to try a dress on in the female changing room and the manager said you have to let him! Even men with c0cks who identify as women are sent to female prisons and then they rape the women inmates in there.
  7. I'v seen the men in my family do some terrible things to their wives when they are drunk, and call their daughters degrading names It so bad. My nana drank a lot and gave my nani grief, but then he stopped, and then his sons started drinking like fish and then their sons my cousins drink heavily now, my cousin has a 2 yr old boy and my mum was having a go at my cousin on the phone and saying when is this behaviour going to stop in our family, generation after generation it's just continuing, she said to him you've got a son now and you need to make sure you end the alcohol there and not pass it down. Its destroyed so many lives and families.
  8. The women in my family are sick and tired of this, it's sad, they did everything they could but even some of there own sons have started drinking like their fathers. When is this going to end?
  9. How many people are there that can actually control their alcohol intake? Very very few. I remember going to kabbadi matches with my dad as a kid in west london and the audience would be prancing around like monkeys after a few drinks. I remember this one guy laying flat on the ground and then he started rolling across the park like a log. This stuff should be kept away as much as possible. If you think about it a lot us have seen some stuff that kids shouldn't even see because of alcohol! Yet we became to desentitised to it! When I was in primary school my white friend came around our house and my dad started drinking alcohol in front of us and started getting tipsy! The boy even asked me why my dad is drinking. This is some really fcked up stuff.
  10. I also despise the word "apne" that's disgusting. I'v never used that word, I just refer to them as punjabi. Someone is not my "apna" just coz we come from the same part of the world! The word apna is as horrible as the word desi! My apna are my sangat, people in rehit following maryada people who I look up to! The rest of them are just whatever they are, they are not bound by any maryada or religious discipline and are free to do whatever they want. Need to stop dragging them around with us! Draw a clear line.
  11. People are muddling punjabi issues with sikh issues, this female going missing really wasnt a sikh issue and nothing to do with sikhs! , is she even sikh! No shes punjabi! Why are these issues being dragged into sikh problems is beyond my understanding. That's why people like her and the rest whatever they do dating, fcking, breaking up, has got nothing to do with us!! They can do whatever they like! They are just your average punjabis, why link it to sikhs! Dragging their issues into sikh problems is dragging extra baggage around that has got nothing to do with us!
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