- Five Stories -

[Guru Fatha Singh Khalsa]

Dear reader,

Sat Nam.  It is Yogi Bhajan's birthday today and while I am still gathering stories and the perfect opportunity for publishing everything has not yet appeared, here are some "new " stories you might enjoy as you think of our great teacher today and through the year.

Love to all!  Peace to all!  Life to all!

Humbly yours,

Guru Fatha Singh Khalsa


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THE PRECOCIOUS "BHAI SAHIB"

There is a strain of Sikh Dharma which is youthful and very wise. It is a fact not generally known or appreciated that, from Guru Nanak to Guru Gobind Singh, six times out of ten, the leadership of the Sikhs was bestowed on their Guru while he was yet a teenager or a child.   In this spirit, Yogi Bhajan, the Siri Singh Sahib for the West, bestowed the title "Bhai Sahib", the highest religious designation next to his own, on one distinguished young man while he was still seventeen years old, at the 1973 Summer Solstice Sadhana.

Dale Sklar, who was soon to be Dayal Singh, had first met the Siri Singh Sahib when he came as Yogi Bhajan to give a lecture on kundalini yoga at his high school, near Los Angeles. He was fifteen years old at the time. From that time on, he adopted Yogi Bhajan as his spiritual teacher, and tried to apply every word of truth he heard him speak.

Dayal Singh showed himself to be possessed by a rare sense of dedication and an infectious love of the details of the Sikh way of life. Early on, he had immersed himself in the study of the sacred language of Siri Guru Granth Sahib. He was genuinely delighted whenever there was an opportunity of doing sewa. Blessed with a brilliant mind and a pleasing disposition, Dayal Singh was one of the more popular teachers of Kundalini Yoga in Los Angeles.

Dayal Singh had been quick to take the opportunity of visiting the ancestral land of his Guru with Bibiji. Once there, he had amazed everyone by scrubbing the floors of the Baba Deep Singh Shaheedee Gurudwara and the Golden Temple from before midnight until two-thirty a.m.. When they toured the Gurudwaras, and the women performed kirtan, it was young Dayal Singh who stood to address the congregations with the help of an interpreter.

When Dayal Singh returned, the Siri Singh Sahib gave him assigned him the duty of minding the Gurudwara at Guru Ram Das Estate. It was a task he cheerfully discharged, walking the three miles from his home to the Estate before sunrise and after sunset, and back again.

The new Bhai Sahib had a firm grasp of Sikh history, Sikh rites, and the language of the Songs of Guru Nanak. He also set an inspiring example. If anyone spoke against another in his presence, he would say, "I don't want to hear it," and change the topic to something more uplifting. Bhai Sahib Dayal Singh was never sanctimonious though, and cherished a lively sense of humour. People two and three times his age came to share the knowledge and enthusiasm of this jewel, this bright light of Guru Nanak.

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ATTACK AT BANGLA SAHIB

During the 1974 India tour the Siri Singh Sahib forged ahead, on to the busy Indian capital, New Delhi.   At the Bangla Sahib Gurdwara, he spoke bluntly and forcefully against the destructive forces at work within the Sikh Nation, against apostates and those whose political agenda would divide the Panth into "secular" Sikhs and "religious" Sikhs, "Congress Party" Sikhs and "Akali Party" Sikhs, to serve their own personal ends. It was a courageous attack aimed at some disturbing trends and personalities who were attempting to subvert the original intention, the Mission, of Guru Nanak.

To some, what he said was shocking and offensive. He had broken the conspiracy of silence which had surrounded the underside of Sikh polity, masked in bravado and self-deception. There were no affirming calls of "Bolay So Nihaal!" from the congregation after he had finished speaking.

A palpable tension hung in the air as the Siri Singh Sahib made his way out of the Gurudwara with the venerable Sardar Hukam Singh and his entourage of Sikhs from the West. Suddenly, in a narrow hall, a door swung open just behind everyone, and a man brandishing a naked sword leapt in the direction of Siri Singh Sahib ji, landing forcefully on the group. From another direction, a second armed attacker gained momentum.

While the first struggled with the human wall surrounding the Siri Singh Sahib, his accomplice was seized by a very new Sikh from America, who just happened to be tall and agile, and a practiced swordswoman. She grabbed the second assailant and threw him onto the crowd which surrounded them.

In no time, guided by her trained reflexes, she had clasped both her hands with a man assigned to the Siri Singh Sahib's security, and mown a swathe through the pressing crowd. The entourage from the West was then able to take its bearings, while the outside of the Bangla Sahib Gurudwara was secured.

Two would-be assassins had failed once more in executing the murderous intention of the Baba of Gobind Sadan who had a relentless enmity for Yogi Bhajan. God's protecting hand, and the courage and quick reflexes of a few, reduced to a minor scuffle what might have been a major tragedy. Even the frailness and small physical stature of Sardar Hukam Singh did not keep him from gallantry. The only wound sustained in the attack was a small cut on the chin of the martial artist who one day would serve as Secretary General of the Sikh Dharma of the Western Hemisphere, Sardarni Guru Amrit Kaur Khalsa.

Afterwards, the Siri Singh Sahib addressed a press conference in a defiant tone. "Let not opposition stand in the way of our mission in life. In fact, we welcome it, feel grateful for it, as it only makes us fight harder for a cause that will create peace and harmony. Spiritualism was hatched in the East, but as Guru Teg Bahadur meditated facing the West, and just as Guru Gobind Singh pointed to the West, there is now a stirring happening there.

"These young people have the insides of a saint and the outsides of a soldier, and they will not rest until they see the rightful destiny of joy and happiness shining on the faces of all their brothers and sisters. Behold their example!"

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"WHY NOT?"

In Toronto, Canada a student of Yogi Bhajan's humbly followed his teacher's directive to help the youth of immigrant Sikhs find inspiration and strength in their spiritual heritage. North America and Europe were abysmally racist in the 1970s and 80s. The best many brown-complexioned immigrant children hoped for was not to be teased or harassed overly.

Running against the social grain, but with the Guru's will, this student joined with some teen immigrant Sikhs and began to plan a camp for young Sikhs all over Ontario and beyond to allow them to meet, learn their heritage, and have fun together. With that end in mind, starting in December of 1983, they went from Gurudwara to Gurudwara, doing keertan and raising money for the proposed camp.

It is not that there had never been a Sikh youth camp in Ontario. A group from outside Canada had held one the previous summer. Hundreds of children from hundreds of miles around had come, but it had also been a catastrophe. Participants had complained that the program was boring and the food terrible. Some campers had been so put off that they had hitchhiked back home. This was going to be a good camp with fun programming and pizza!

When Yogi Bhajan's student phoned the Secretariat about the work he was doing and asking for a name for the project, he aptly dubbed it “Khalsa Youth of North America.” The Master wanted his student to think big picture, it seemed. After a few minutes, it also sunk in that in Punjabi, the acronym “KYO NA” meant “Why not?” and so “Why not?” became the group's slogan as well.

With trips to Montreal and Windsor, Ottawa, and London, Ontario, the group raised awareness of their aims and money for the coming camp, and found volunteers to help, and youngsters eager to come. A perfect location was found just outside of Toronto. A date in March was set. The program started to be put together.

Knowing the Siri Singh Sahib's busy schedule, the young people were hesitant to call and ask him to come. After all, by the time the camp had been booked and paid for, it was just three weeks to go. They called anyway. Everyone was of one mind, that it would the greatest blessing if he would come – and sure enough, Yogi Bhajan must have put aside his regularly scheduled commitments to come to the camp. His coming at such short notice spoke volumes of how he valued work to help Punjabi youth in particular, and over all, to bring together Sikhs of east and west.

It was a fun camp. The Siri Singh Sahib also brought his Secretary of Religion who was a master of the martial art of gatka. Between them, they gave great classes. The camp was enjoyable, the food was great. They even had pizza a couple of times in the course of the week.  Afterwards, the organizers immediately they began to plan and raise money for a bigger camp in August.

By July, brochures had been printed, a big camp site had been booked, and the program was being set. But overhanging the whole enterprise was the spectre of events in Punjab. On June 6^th, the Indian army had attacked Harimandir Sahib. Hundreds of Sikhs had been killed, thousands more imprisoned. Punjab was cordoned off from the rest of the world by the rule of martial law.

Outside Punjab, Sikh families grieved and worried about who might next be killed, imprisoned, tortured or dishonoured. Many wanted revenge, “blood for blood.” When Yogi Bhajan spoke words of conciliation and peace, most Sikhs vehemently opposed him, calling him a traitor of the Sikh nation.

It was in this light that one day, Yogi Bhajan's student received a telephone call, his first direct communication from the Master. “In order not to divide Sikhs, we must cancel this camp. It is important that Sikhs remain as one, undivided.” Once again, Yogi Bhajan had shown his heart, had expressed his deep prayer that the Panth be unbroken regardless of anyone's personal loss or gain, and so it was that, with a heavy heart, the KYONA summer camp was cancelled in the summer of 1984.

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FAITH

Trinidad, as a former British colony, carries with it a proud and tormented history of colonial rule. Many of the original Trinidadians's ancestors came as slaves from Africa to work the sugar plantations. Others were indentured servants from British India. Generations later, Indian and African traditions are still practiced and celebrated.

When Yogi Bhajan first came to Trinidad, he stayed at the Hilton Hotel, but his food – traditional Caribbean rotee and curries – was provided by devoted Hindu families. Meaning to preserve Yogiji's health, Sat Simran Kaur told him, “Sir, you're not supposed to eat this. It's too spicy.”

Yogiji replied, “When in Trinidad, I am not on a diet. I will eat whatever they bring.” The Master was also mindful of the Indian tradition that those are served food by their disciples should leave some on their plate to then be eaten by their devotees as blessed food. He always left some of the delicious food on his plate.

In Trinidad, the yoga students and other guests brought all kinds of tasty local food, tropical fruits, curries, beverages and sweetbreads. A can of grapefruit juice caught Sat Simran`s attention. Canned juices were not supposed to be good for his health. Yogi Bhajan ate and drank everything with gusto.

Aftab Singh was Yogi Bhajan`s main teacher and contact in the island nation of Trinidad and Tobago. Yogiji insisted that his student should also serve as his driver whenever he visited. In 1984, Aftab Singh was able, through a government connection, to arrange a red carpet reception at the airport when the Master arrived. With all formalities dispensed with, Yogi Bhajan sat as was his habit, in the front seat with Aftab across from him at the wheel, his secretary behind them. It was late. It was eleven o'clock.

Yogi Bhajan said to his student, “Do you remember that grapefruit juice somebody brought me last time I came, the one in the can? I would like another one like that.”

Aftab Singh thought. Most of the grocery stores in the city were already closed, the rest would soon be closing. He drove quickly to nearest food store and went in. They did not have it. He went to another. That store did not have it either. A couple of stores later, Aftab entered a large supermarket and asked the grocery manager about the drink. The manager told him that the company did not make that juice any more. Aftab went back to the car and told his teacher. Yogi Bhajan was unfazed, “Don't come back till you have it.”

Aftab kept up his effort. He went to another store and another, just as they were closing. It was past midnight by now. The shopkeepers were eager to go home. At one little shop, the owner was dumping the water and remaining ice from his simple refrigeration system into the street. When Aftab Singh asked if he had the canned grapefruit juice, the man said, “I might,” and went inside to check. A couple of minutes later, he returned with a rusty can of the juice which he gave to Aftab, graciously refusing payment.

With the rusty old can of juice, Aftab Singh felt like he was in heaven, some Trinidadian juice heaven anyway. At last, he had the satisfaction of delivering the can of grapefruit juice to the Master, who received it with a wink. Aftab Singh also felt the satisfaction of having not questioned his teacher, the one who had told him to never doubt the power of his own mind.

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TEACHER TO THE STARS

Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa was a yoga teacher to the stars. By association, she was famous too. The money was fabulous. The publicity was great. The work was easy.

Gurmukh would visit the stars in their Beverly Hills mansions. Very impressive indeed. Sometimes she would lead the famous movie stars, musicians, and celebrities through exercises and meditations she had learned from Yogi Bhajan.

A couple of her clients would like to push their limits and do hard yoga. Others she had to be careful with, not to push them too hard. After all, they were paying her a lot of money to do this easy work.

Now and again, it would be eleven o’clock in the morning and the celeb she had come to instruct would not even want to get out of bed. All she wanted to do was eat toast. So that’s what they would do. Gurmukh and the celeb would eat toast and chat that day – and that would be the class.

One day, Yogi Bhajan said to Gurmukh, “I am going to New Mexico tomorrow and you are coming with me,”

“Yes, sir,” she managed to say, and packed her things to go.

Once they had arrived at the Ashram at Espanola, New Mexico, Yogi Bhajan introduced Gurmukh to the head gardener of the Guru Ram Das estate. He told the head gardener to put Gurmukh to work on the grounds, which is what he did.

Day after day, Gurmukh Kaur found herself confronting a vast yard of weeds needing picking, plants needing watering, gardens needing hoeing. It was simple, sobering, humble work.

Many a time, she wished to be back home in Los Angeles. Life was easy there. There were no weeds to pick or rows to hoe. There was no backbreaking work in the scorching sun. All she had to do was go out and visit with beautiful, famous people. Of course, they could be neurotic and there weren’t really very good students…

Then she thought of her life with Yogi Bhajan. The things she had been through with him as her teacher. She thought of his majesty, his kindness, his purpose in bringing her here – whatever it was.

One day, it rained. As Gurmukh had not packed a raincoat, a raincoat was improvised with a garbage bag and three holes – one for her head and two for her arms at the sides.

Yogi Bhajan came by that day to inspect the gardens with a guest. With a broad expansive gesture, the Master indicated the domain of the Guru’s estate. Then he paused and indicated toward Gurmukh stooped among the weeds in her garbage bag smock. “And she,” spoke Yogi Bhajan, “is a yoga teacher to the stars.”

Gurmukh blushed. She was embarrassed now, very embarrassed. The Master had done what masters had been known to do all the ages through. He had cut her down to size. Like an out-of-control shrub, her ego with its delusions of fame and fortune had taken over her life. Yogi Bhajan had trimmed it back so that she might yet serve some useful purpose.

A few days later, the Master released Gurmukh Kaur and gave her permission to return home. When she arrived back in Los Angeles, Gurmukh was a star, but never again a yoga teacher to the stars.

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