Food meets faith

The Golden Temple at Amritsar is to be visited for various reasons; firstly the scale and immensity. Secondly, it is the ultimate destination for the Sikhs, much like Varanasi, Mecca and the Vatican for other religions.

Thirdly, the historical aspect and its involvement in politics, and lastly, the phenomenon that still startles the world, the fact that about 50,000 pilgrims are fed there every day. Numbers vary from 15,000 to 1,00,000, and the truth, as usual, lies somewhere in-between. Reminds me of the efficiency, and in this case, the selflessness of the devotees and volunteers that goes into the dabbawala phenomenon in Mumbai.

We had an enthusiastic guide, actually a chef who had worked in Cyprus who was visiting with his mother. He articulated with wonderful clarity, and his opinions were delivered with great sincerity and elan.

In the name of God

Our one-day visit did not start on too pleasant a note. It was a wet blustery day and our plane from Delhi was delayed by an hour, so that we missed the Wagah border theatricals. The temple was in the middle of a set of radiating small lanes which were clustered with ramshackle dwellings and shops. We had to get out of the car to engage some vehicles, bigger than our Bengaluru autos which, although roofed in, allowed for rain to come in at the sides and drench us anyway. So it was a dishevelled drenched foursome who got into the temple. It is a huge complex, the highlight being the Harmandir. We got a breathtaking view of the Golden Temple in the rain, reflected in the large body of water, quiet and peaceful, with the rain making slight ripples in which the temple wavered, stilled and wavered again.

Its gilded domes and minarets glowed in the subtle shades of the dying sun. We walked through the ornate marble hallways, heads discreetly covered, in the midst of a concourse of people who had come despite the sheeting rain, intoning their prayers and when they caught sight of us greeting us with a ‘sat sri akal’ (meaning that anybody who takes God’s name is pure) yet all moving within their own space. It was spotlessly clean, as everyone cleanses their feet in the numerous water channels. And so serene — no clanging of bells, no loud chanting, no detritus of flowers or ash, no animals wandering through the sacred spaces.

Devotion and religion do not necessarily mean only rituals or disciplines. It includes the spiritual aspect and its enforcement. The story goes that the father of Guru Nanak, the first Sikh Guru, gave his son Rs 20 to teach him about hard work, discipline and start a business. Guru Nanak, deeply anxious about the fate of the poor and destitute, decided to use this money to give food to the poor and the needy, at no cost. Thus was started the concept of langar. It is a labour of love and compassion. And to me, the langar or the totally free daily feeding of visitors to the temple, regardless of caste, creed or religion, uninfluenced by riches or education or achievement, is one of the pillars of Sikhism and a glowing example of humanity.

When I walked through the vast eating places, I could see some people eating on the steps, some with their families seated on the floor in a line with their plates before them, even though it was not mealtime. The daily army of volunteers were peeling and chopping onions, or washing about 40,000 steel thalis five times at five different stations. Huge cauldrons were simmering and being stirred, wheat flour was being kneaded and handrolled into chapathis. Sometimes the dough balls went through a conveyor belt of an imported pita machine to be flattened and then gathered from off them!

A quest to serve

A group of women, most of them amply endowed, cheerful and silver haired, sat on the ground stacking the chapathis. They invited me to join in with welcoming gestures, and I would have loved to join, if I had not been operating on such a tight schedule. They were obviously having a good time, laughing while with their hands like automatons they continued with their chosen duties. 

A friend, a Sikh doctor, told me that in her childhood she was often taken to the langar, in order to observe and slowly imbibe this sense of service or seva and participate of her own free will herself. She says that at the age of two or three, she would, motivated by her parents, take a broom and sweep an area. She also talked of the spirit of langar and how pervasive it is all over Punjab.

There are numerous gurudwaras on the Delhi-Lahore highway. On their pilgrimages to the ancient city of Sirhind where Guru Gobind’s two young sons were walled up at the orders of their fauzdar, there were langars almost at hourly intervals. So her family could have had, if they so wished, langar at all of them, almost a meal every hour!

Sikhs believe that doing seva is a blessed service. So by getting involved in the service of the kitchens, either in the running of the langar, or rolling chapathis, serving prasad or washing dishes, this self sacrifice for the common good will destroy ego and give a sense of true humility. In a way, Guru Nanak was initiating what we could now call “social change” through the simple humble way of sharing a meal without cost, which is therefore priceless.

In contrast to the quietitude in the praying areas, the communal kitchens resound with cooking noises: noises of stirring huge cauldrons of dal, clanging of vessels as they are cleaned, chopping sounds, and cheerful gossiping.

I was told by a friend that a certain ritual precedes the mealtimes. One Sikh walks down between the rows of people sitting down on the floor for the meal saying “Satnam wahe guru (O Lord, your name is true.) Bole so nihal,” and everyone responds with “sat sri akal.” And then they eat.

The statistics are mind-boggling. At any given time, the langar has enough provisions to last for three months. I was told that it fed 70,000 people every day and on Sundays and festive days, the number could jump to maybe even two lakh! Each meal would consist of two vegetable dishes, dal, rice, chapathis and a sweet dish. And each day, 220 lbs of rice, 3,500 lbs of lentils, 2,200 lbs of wheat flour, 7,700 lbs of vegetables and 450 litres of pure ghee are consumed during the langar. A miracle to be able to offer this on a daily basis, with love, respect, compassion and humility.