This is the story of Papaji's Bebbe (grandmother), written by Papaji, my father, and cherished and collected for posterity by me, Amrita Bedi Mahapatra. When complete, it will be published as a book. To read it click on comments.
Bebbe in our dialect means mother. She was mother of my father. She was our grandmother but we also called her Bebbe. So for us Bebbe was grandmother. I owe the gift of long life to my Bebbe. She gave this gift to my brothers and sisters too who survived her strange culling technique. It was her prerogative to give gurhti to the new-born babies. Gurhti is a social custom of giving the first food to the child. She chewed some fennel seeds, cardamom, cinnamon, raisins and few other exotic items into a pulp and then gave that liquid to the new-born child. This concoction possibly contained bacteria of almost all the diseases of the world. If one survived that lethal dose one got immunized to at least half the childhood diseases. This benefited me in many ways. I hardly ever felt ill as a child. Till the age of twelve I did not know what headache was though I often heard the word from others. So if I hurt my knee I would cry bebbe I have a headache in my knee. Bebbe was a great doctor besides. She did not go to school but learned her trade through life’s experience. She lost one of her children due to drowning in the village pond. From that day the water became enemy number one. She lost her husband in a plague epidemic. Plague at that time was considered to spread through air. So air became enemy number two. She had seen some children dying of sun stroke. So the sun became enemy number three. When any of us fell ill she did her best to save us from these three enemies. She would draw all the curtains to keep off sunlight and air. She also restricted supply of water to patients to the minimum. I vividly remember one such occasion when I had a fever. Bebbe stayed by my side constantly and kept me warm. I wanted to be cool but she denied me air. I cried out but to no avail. I was also thirsty and wanted the cool lassi (buttermilk) from the kitchen. She considered lassi, in fever, as poison. She gave me a spoon of water and would not leave my side even for a moment. I thought that was going to be the end of me. I closed my eyes and pretended of sleep to put her off guard. It was then that she felt need to go to the bathroom. She asked my father to guard me in her absence. The bathroom was upstairs and I knew she would be away for a while. Father was busy in his accounts and did not pay much attention to me. I found the chance I was waiting for. I rushed to the kitchen, took a glassful of lassi and was at the second helping when Bebbe heard the noise. She immediately rushed below. Seeing me bent over the lassi pot she almost fainted. She was sure I would die and lamented repeating that. But I instinctively knew that I had saved myself. Bebbe was married to my grandfather when she was only five and he was eight years old. Child marriages were the norm at that time but this one was rather earlier than the ordinary norm due to a fortuitous circumstance. The year before her parents had died in plague epidemic, leaving her orphaned. She also had an elder brother and a sister and a younger brother. They lived in a town called Sheikhupura, twelve miles from our village Santpura (both now in Pakistan). My grand-father’s cousin brother - Baba Harnaam Singh - was guru (spirtual adviser) to Bebbe’s family. He took upon himself to settle the two orphan sisters. The elder one was given in marriage to a known family in an adjoining village - Karhial. He brought the younger one along with him to become our Bebbe. The boys (Bebbe’s brothers) were left in the care of relatives. Bebbe was brought up in her parents-in-law’s house like a daughter rather than a daughter-in-law. Later in life she would tell us that she had no memory of her own home and parents. Her husband’s home was the only home and his parents the only parents she knew and loved. She freely played with other daughters of the house as their sister and friend. Ours being a joint family there were a good number of siblings to give company to each other. My grandfather had two elder brothers, both married, and two sisters, also married, but awaiting departure to in-laws. My grandfather being the youngest was darling of the whole family. With the coming of Bebbe, she became the youngest and the new darling of the family. The sisters-in-law envied her as the only permanent daughter who would remain back. The wives of other brothers also envied her as the most favorite daughter-in-law.
We are Bedis, descendents of Guru Nanak - founder of the Sikh Faith. As we grew in numbers at Dera Baba Nanak, the constraints of space obliged some families to move out. During the times of Guru Gobind Singh, one of our ancestors Baba Nand Roop, accompanied by his family and some udasi sadhus - followers of Baba Sri Chand (Guru Nanak’s elder son) - came and setteled in an open space between Sheikhupura and Gujaranwala - two historic towns about forty miles from Dera baba Nanak and thirty miles apart from each other. He settled there on the invitation of local zamindaars who gifted him the adjoining tracts of land in token of their love for the Guru’s children. Due to presence of Udasi sadhus with him the settlement came to be known as Santpura (abode of sadhus). Close to half a century they remained well-knit into a joint family. During the course of next few generations Baba Nand Roop’s progeny grew and extended into three main streets called the East, North and south streets. The West side was left for Shopping center. The three residential streets were founded by his three prominent grandsons – Baba Malroop, Baba Lajyadhari and Baba Ichhyadhari. Each of them had a large following of sikh disciples. Baba Kaladhari, whose grandson Baba Sahib singh Bedi played a prominent part in helping Ranjeet Singh to found the sikh empire, was their cousin brother, though not based in their village. Dr. Gopal Singh in his magnum opus ‘A history of the sikh people’ has this to say about Baba Sahib Singh Bedi.
“Baba Sahib Singh Bedi, grandson of Baba Kaladhari and son of Baba Ajit Singh, claiming a direct descent from Guru Nanak was a formidable spiritual leader of these days, highly venerated by all sections of the sikh society. Besides being a well-known preacher of his faith, he was also a great warrior and conquered considerable territory with his headquarters at Una (in the distt of Hoshiarpur). We shall come across his name later in these pages many times as a wise counsel, conciliator, fighter and a source of great spiritual comfort at the time of stress and crisis”
“ The sikh forces under Ranjit Singh(for the defence of Amritsar) were about ten thousand horse. Baba Sahib Singh Bedi also joined with his 4000 horse … Dismayed the Afgan king, Shah Zaman, made another attempt to conciliate them and sent an agent to Amritsar for talks. But, the sikh spokesman, Baba Sahib Singh Bedi, refused to listen to him, saying “We have taken the country of our forefathers through suffering and sacrifice and mean to keep it free, under our charge, whatever the cost”. Later he stood by Ranjit singh in his battle for paramountcy in Punjab politics.
My father’s great grandfather, Sardar Sahib Singh, was the first generation Singh of the Khalsa created by Guru Gobind Singh. He was a contemporary of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. Ranjit Singh’s official stamp bore the adopted insignia, “Deg o teg o fateh o nusrat bedarang - Yaft uz Nanak Guru Gobind Singh”, which means, I have won empire, victory and glory through the grace of Guru Nanak and Gobind Singh. This shows how deeply he felt indebted to the Gurus and their progeny. On coming to throne he granted a big jagir (gift of land)to Nankana Sahib, the birth place of Guru Nanak. Then he sought the Bedi settlements and bestowed jagirs to each of them. Four villages in jagir came to our village Santpura. The officials of Ranjit Singh informed him that Bedis of Santpura were close relations of Baba Saheb Singh Bedi, his old ally. Maharaja Ranjit Singh was so pleased to hear it that he increased our grant to twelve villages. This meant that the revenue collected from those villages was payable to our village. This grant made our village very famous and prosperous. With the grant of jagir to Nankana Sahib, the overall management of that shrine was also entrusted to us, the Bedis of Santpura. The udasi sadhus settled in our village were persuaded to go to Nanakana Sahib with their leader, called Mahant (title) as the head of the shrine. Subsequently also the new Mahants were selected with the approval of our village elders till Shromani Gurdwara Parbhandak Committee took over their management after gurdwara movement of 1930.The revenue from the twelve villages was sufficient to support more families so some Vedi families, descendents of Guru Nanak’s uncle (chacha), Lalu Rai, were given refuge to come and settle in our village. Earlier they had no place of their own and led a nomadic life hunting deers, rabbits and partridges. They came to our village with their hunting dogs. Our village provided them with suitable plots of land and gradually they took to farming. At the same time they taught hunting to one or two Bedi families also, though it was not liked by the rest of the village. Soon after annexing the Punjab the English administrators made to us a one time payment equal to four years’ revenue and forfeited our jagirs. At the end of our South street, there lived a Brahmin family who had built a temple within their house and had been looking to the religious needs of the people. They also performed ceremonies relating to marriages, births, funerals etc. even when the village folk converted to khalsa panth . For quite some time, the Brahmins remained doing these tasks as there were no equivalent Sikh clergy to look after those needs. There was a Gurudwara in our village which was managed by local families as a group. To look after its daily needs a family man called a bhai was employed who was more of a chowkidar than a priest. He was not educated and could not read the Granth Sahib. The Brahmin family had a daughter of the same age as Bebbe. Quite early in life, during visits to the temple along with other women, Bebbe came into close contact with this girl, Bhagwan Devi -nick-named Bhagwano- and both became friends. At the age of seven or eight Bhagwano was married and a year later she became a widow. She came back to live, for the rest of her life, with her father who was himself a widower. In this lonely period she became even closer to Bebbe. Bebbe’s sisters-in-law (husband’s sisters) had also left for their in-law homes and she herself was lonely too. Both started spending lot of time together. Bhagwano’s father started training her as a priestess and the stories from the Hindu Mythology that he told her were listened to by Bebbe as well. Later in life when we were born Bebbe used to relate these stories to us. Chief among them was the marriage of Shiva and Parvati. It contained all the juicy details about Shiva’s bizarre appearance as a bridegroom with a snake around his neck, a dugdugi in hand, ashes smeared on head and riding a bull. The diverse marriage party included Rahu and Katu. The twin devils gulped away all the food that Parvati’s father King had got prepared for ‘baratis’and asked for more! Hearing these stories we felt transported to ‘Satyug’. When Bebbe and Bhagwano were about twelve years each they carried out a plan which shook the whole village. Guru Nanak’s birth anniversary was celebrated by our village, outside our gurudwara, at a very large scale, as apart from our village, people from all the villages within a radius of twelve miles used to attend the three day long fun and religious discourses. A big fair with diverse shops and stalls of handicrafts was held at the same time. For the first time that year a photographer set up his stall and became a big hit. Many men, including men from our family, got their photos taken which people watched with awe and fascination. The women were not allowed or inclined to get their pictures taken as they observed purdah in the form of ghungat (covering the face with chunni). Even girls were not allowed as they were not to show their face to prospective in-laws. Bebbe and her friend Bhagwano cooked up a scheme to have their photos snapped together. They tied up their hair and wore turbans like all the other boys in the village. Then they dressed up in boys’ clothes and got their photos taken. They were quite sure that no one will be any the wiser about it. But as is the custom with photographers to display the pictures they have taken, their photos also got displayed. It did not take much time for village people to discover that the two rustic urchins in the pictures were in fact Bebbe and Bhagwano. The news spread like wild fire and was the chief topic of gossip among women. For the first time Bebbe felt vulnerable because her husband, our grandfather, also complained to his father about it. He said that he was greatly embarrassed as his friends teased him that he was married to a boy. He complained that this has happened due to the great freedom given to her by his parents. Bebbe even did not observe the customary gunghat, which all married girls were subjected to. To satisfy their son Bebbe’s parents-in-law suitably instructed her to be careful in future and observe gunghat like other daughters-in-law. Bebbe sought exemption from gunghat at least from men in her own house which was graciously granted by her father-in-law. Bebbe’s friend was in greater trouble because such an act was considered unbecoming of a priest’s daughter and a widow at that. Bebbe interceded on her behalf taking all the blame on herself. The traumatized Brahmin was mollified for the moment and his daughter escaped general ostracism. In those times there were no schools for girls. Though they got no formal education, there was ample scope to learn cooking, knitting, sewing etc. from their mothers and other elderly women folk. For entertainment there were spinning-wheel sessions organized in groups. Otherwise they got little freedom of movement and play for security reasons. This was the general practice in most villages. But our village was an island of liberty in this respect. Thus so, perhaps, as it was like an extended joint family - each person being a brother, uncle or grand-uncle - that imparted a sense of comfort and security. Thus on moon-lit nights, while boys played their games at the outskirts of the village, the girls played hide and seek, danced and sang at open spaces in the streets. Bebbe spent her childhood in such congenial atmosphere that she never knew how and when it ended and womanhood took over. Perhaps it didn’t end completely but gradually, little by little, yielding place to the other. So even though she was now sixteen and a few months pregnant, the child and the woman in her overlapped and struggled for existence. Paradoxes abound in nature. They impart variety to the course of life. One such paradox existed in our village. A little way up we have seen how glorious was the life of the girls in our village. It was true for all girls who walked on twos. Those who walked on all fours were in dire risk of infanticide. This evil practice was rampant in those days. In fact it is still widespread in Punjab. In our village it was fuelled by a secret group of women known as KKK. The triple “K” did not mean the well-known “Ku Klux Klan” even though it worked on the same lines as the latter did. Only in our language it stood for (Kurhiyon Ke Katil) ‘killers of the girls’. Its head- Quarter was at the confluence of three residential streets where stood a structure consisting of a big courtyard followed by a big hall known as ‘inner’ gurudwara. Although a copy of Granth Sahib was kept in a small enclosure for those who might like to read, it was gurudwara only in name as all religious rites and functions were performed in the main gurudwara referred to earlier and this place functioned as community centre for the gatherings of women during the day. The KKK clique worked clandestinely among such gatherings. Its targets were expecting mothers and presently Bebbe was their unsuspecting target. She could not help escape whispers, made within her hearing, how such and such had killed her infant girl, followed by a concluding remark in sympathy,”How else would the poor girl have escaped the stigma of very first child being a girl? Then pointing a finger at Bebbe one woman would say,”God forbid if this poor girl has a girl as the first child. What other course is left to her to maintain her place in the family”.At first Bebbe felt aghast. She protested it was not the custom in her family. Both of her sisters-in-law had living daughters. “Yes” retorted the evil women, “Because their first born were boys and they could afford to have daughters later. You also pray your first born happen to be a boy”. So Bebbe prayed day and night for her coming child to be a boy. To her dismay it turned up a girl. There was much excitement in the house before she was born. After her birth a strange kind of silence took over. The boys were regarded as great gifts of God, calling for, thanks to the Lord, congratulations to one and all and much merriment. Girls were merely to fill in the blanks. Expression of any kind of joy on their birth was a taboo - a wrong signal - likely to be mistaken, god forbid, as a want for more of the same. The greatest blessing for a woman was, “May you bathe in milk and beget many sons” and the vilest curse - “May you wash the faces of seven daughters”- This custom was perhaps a remnant of early Aryans’ preference for males to wage wars of aggression. Bebbe was confined to bed. Custom required her to lie there with the child for thirteen days. Thereafter both mother and child would be purified, with suitable rites prescribed by the priests, and rid of the pollution associated with the process of birth - An echo of the ‘original sin’. Only, we called it ‘Sootak’.That is how different religions pick up rampant ideas of each other and weave them into their own customs. During this enforced isolation Bebbe keenly watched the reactions of her family members. Her mother-in-law and sisters-in-law were kind and considerate. They looked after all her needs well. Now and then they also took up her child into their arms and lovingly fondled her. This gave her much comfort. On the other hand, behavior of out-house women seemed reminiscent more of condolence than congratulation. At the end of day it is the response of her husband that will mean most to her. That day arrived at last. After ablutions and some related ceremonies, the mother and child were let into the living room. Bebbe touched the feet of her father-in-law and mother-in-law. They blessed her and her child. Then she touched the feet of her Brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law and they too blessed her and her baby. Her husband was conspicuous by his absence. Early that morning he had yoked his oxen and gone to plough his fields. Since the birth of their child there was no commun ication between the couple. This was normal in those days and Bebbe knew about this custom. But what Bebbe didn’t know was that any interest shown by the (novice) husband in his first-born was considered an impolite act. Bebbe’s husband knew about it and was too shy to break this tradition. Bebbe didn’t and this comedy of error was headed to end into a tragedy.
Bebbe as we have seen was impulsive by nature. She wanted to know promptly her husband’s reaction towards their child. There was no possibility of approaching him during the night. So she decided to confront him early in the morning before he left for his fields. She hardly slept during the night. Early in the morning her mother-in-law got up to churn the curd to make butter and whey (lassi).When lassi was ready she awakened her son and served him a large measure of drink with a chunk of butter floating on top. Bebbe was watching the scene from her bed. She waited for her mother-in-law to leave for some other work so she could rush to her husband when he was alone. But her mother-in law kept sitting, fondly watching her son gobbling butter and drinking lassi. Bebbe panicked that her husband might soon leave putting her plan in jeopardy. Throwing discretion to the wind, she got up with the child in her arms and thrust it at her husband as he rose to leave. He was totally taken aback. Being greatly amused by the situation his mother could hardly suppress her mirth. This embarrassed him all the more. Without looking at the child he waived it away like Vishwamitter of mythology and hastened away. Bebbe was consoled by her mother-in-law. “He would soon get to like his daughter” she said. But the damage was done. The one person whose assurance she so assiduously sought had spurned her child like it did not belong to him! From that time onward the sword of Damocles started hanging on the head of hapless girl child.
Every evening, at the onset of little darkness, women of our street would gather in a group and head towards an ancient mound on the outskirts of village to answer the call of nature. This place was used as an open latrine by the ladies. It was dotted with many bushes which provided needed cover. The place was out of bounds for men who eased in their respective fields. Through successive habit this schedule had got so impressed that normally they would not feel such urge at any other time of the day or night. But emergencies are out of the orbit of normal routine. Force-fed on rich food, one such emergency came upon Bebbe, at noon time. The village folk had provided for such emergencies also. A short distance from the end of south street there was a secluded spot, flanked by the pond in the south and back walls of cow-sheds in the north. The East side had eroded into the pond closing that side and effectively preventing the place being used as a thoroughfare. There was a narrow entry from the west and any woman in need could safely use the space. For a desired cover, a plant (called uk in Punjabi) grew there in abundance. If its leaf or a twig is snapped it oozes thick creamy liquid saturated with alkaloid, a highly potent poison. It is therefore shunned by the cattle and grows unrestrained. It was in these surroundings that fate brought Bebbe and her child to do its bidding. A small girl also accompanied her to carry a pail of water. After original need was over, Bebbe washed her hands and stood beside one of the plants. She had heard about its properties but didn’t have a quaint idea about its effects. Involuntarily she broke a twig and let some oozing drops fall on her tongue. She felt a burning sensation and expectorated the milky liquid. Then she tried the same experiment on her child and when she winced she tried to extract the foreign matter from her mouth. But the child swallowed it and started crying loudly. Greatly panicked she ran towards her house. On the way she felt child’s convulsions. Reaching home she handed over the child to her mother-in-law and started weeping. In between the sobs she told her the whole story. Hearing mother and child crying, some women from neighborhood came running. Meanwhile convulsions stopped but the child seemed to be going into coma. The women tried to revive her but all in vain. Gradually she ceased breathing and was no more. Completely baffled, the women started making searching inquiries. Given to herself, Bebbe’s mother-in-law would have tried to keep the matter under wraps. But the girl who had accompanied Bebbe blurted out the truth. In no time the news spread like fire. Bebbe locked herself in the same room, where she had given birth to her daughter, and would not open the door. Bebbe’s husband, after working in his fields, was half way to his house, when a shepherd from the village gave him the news. He was stunned. On the outskirts of the village, on his way, there was a small pucca shrine called ‘Mata-raani’ (queen mother) consisting of a room and an open courtyard, flanked by pucca walls, in front. In earlier times, an idol of mother goddess was placed in the room. Later on, when roaming ascetics needed the room for a night rest, the idol was placed, under a beri tree in the courtyard. With ravages of time the idol gave way but an enterprising woman placed a stone slab in its place, under the tree. Bebbe used to take us there, to propitiate the goddess, whenever our fever extended the normal limit. She will put a pinch of ‘sandhoor’ over the thick layer of sandhoor already there and make us bow before it. It was believed that she controlled all the diseases. In fat the most dreaded disease – small pox – was named after it and called ‘mata’. It was here that Bebbe’s husband sought temporary refuge. When his parents were informed of it, they rushed to the shrine. On confirmation of the news, he put off his turban and started putting ashes, left by some sadhus, on his head. Now they had two problems on hand – one at home and one here. Meanwhile other members of the family arrived and somehow took him to home. Bebbe was also persuaded to open the door. As soon as she came out, her husband rushed to strike her but was restrained by the relatives. Bebbe’s sister-in-law, who lived at family’s old house, took her there to provide temporary protection. At night Bebbe’s parents-in-law came to console her but she kept on sobbing and refused to touch any food. Traumatised by the turn of events, they sent for their married daughters, who were great friends of Bebbe, from their in-laws at Lahore. On their arrival, after three days, Bebbe was persuaded with great difficulty, to take some food. Bebbe’s sisters-in-law also tried to bring the couple, face to face, but none of them was yet ready for that closeness. During their stay, the sisters were approached by the local school master’s wife, to take her message to her parents in Lahore. It appeared she had some serious complaints against her husband and solicited their help. After the departure of her sisters-in-law, Bebbe again plunged into depression. She didn’t know how long it was to last. But providence intervened in a devious way. Her brother-in-law (Gopal singh) eloped with the school master’s wife. This shifted the focus from bebbe to the new emergency, that demanded single-minded attention of the united family. Bebbe even did not notice, when and how, she got mingled with the rest of the family including her husband. Here we seem to need a short introduction to bebbe’s large family. Bebbe’s father-in-law, sardar Amar singh was a prominent resident of the village and headman of the south street.He possessed a streak of character that makes men legends in their lifetime. By profession he was a money lender, other-wise considered a base occupation, but he lent a human face to it. Throughout his life he never forfeited a residential house or a field, pledged to him as security for the loan. Thus he provided for an essential service that now is rendered by the banks. Famines were a common sight in those days. To provide needed relief in such eventualities, he used to fill up a big godown with grains of wheat, in early season, and release suitable quantities in scarce times, on promise of return in kind by the beneficiaries, at the next season, with some suitable addition. Thus with one time payment, he secured the perpetual supply of grain, together with blessings of the poor. His sense of justice we will learn about a short time later. He had three sons and two daughters. Both the daughters were married into hindu (khatri) families of Lahore. His eldest son was Nihal singh whose chief passion, unlike his father, was land. Whenever he saw a particular piece of land on sale he will buy it. Later on when bebbe managed her father-in-law’s funds, she freely gave him money for this venture. But for him our family wouldn’t have got that much land. The youngest was our grandfather Sunder Singh, the darling of his father, who loved to till his lands and produced the yearly grain for the entire family. The middle and the most colorful son was Gopal Singh. Gopal (protector of cows) is one of the names of Lord Krishna. True to his name-sake, Gopal singh grew into a tall and handsome play-boy of the family, exceedingly given to sports and specializing in long jump. He was credited with a jump of 24 feet which almost equals the Olympic record. Allowing for a possible exaggeration, he could have easily cleared a distance of 22 feet, as the following true story vouchsafes. In those days gypsy groups used to roam villages, entertaining people with extraordinary feats of sports and rope walking. One such group that came to our village had among them a much reputed long jumper, who threw a challenge to one and all, to compete with him. With a view to eliminate all non serious players, he placed a sharp steel blade fixed on a wooden frame at a distance of 18 feet from the starting line. Anyone who could not clear a distance of 20 feet would run the risk of getting a nasty cut. Our grandfather Gopal singh picked up the instrument and replaced it at a distance of 20 feet, daring the gypsy player to jump over it. He balked saying nobody could jump over that distance. On this Gopal singh ran the course and jumped over the blade, clearing it by a distance of almost two feet . The gypsy was so crest-fallen that he did not even attempt a jump and conceded defeat. The village lads carried their hero on their shoulders, around the village, with beat of drums. To take the story further, we need to know more about the schoolmaster and his wife, to whom we have made a passing reference before. In our village there was a govt. primary school for which teachers were sent by the Punjab Education department at Lahore. In the times under reference, a middle aged teacher joined duty in the school. He came with a girl of about 18 years whom people took to be his daughter. They were shocked to learn later that she was his wife. Every strange thing has a story behind it. This one too had one that came in bits. The girl was from a poor family of Lahore. The man was a teacher in a local school. His wife died four years ago, leaving behind a boy and a girl of 14 and 10 years respectively. The teacher approached the family with a proposal. He asked for their 14 year old daughter’s hand for a consideration of one thousand rupees. The girl’s family had never seen that amount in their life. They agreed even with the condition that the girl will never come back to their house and they too will not come to see her more than twice a year. All went well for two years. The girl was quite comfortable and played with his children. In between her people also would come and see her. But the teacher started feeling a little uncomfortable. He was embarrassed to see that all three appeared to be his children. He got his son admitted in a boarding house and sent the daughter to her uncle. He thought the things would now get squared. But they got worse. His wife started going to her parents house, against his direction, and more often than he could ignore. After great deliberation, he contrived to secure his transfer to our village school. At the corner of a by-lane, connecting the south street with the southern end of the bazaar, was a first floor two room house, that remained reserved for the teachers. He came and settled here with his wife. In the beginning some women came to her, when her husband was away, and she also visited them. Women and girls wanted to know more and more about her and her background. Each juicy tale got spread by word of mouth. Some indiscreet inquiry somewhere put the teacher on his guard. He was already suspicious by nature. He surmised that his child wife was spattering the beans. He started putting restrictions on her movements. When this did not improve matters, he started locking her up in the room, while going to school. But he had no antidote to her accompanying the village women in the evening, for a trip to the mound, to answer the call of nature. This was one unchangeable tradition of the village to which there was no alternative. The chief topic of discussion in these assemblies was either Gopal singhs feats or recent entry of school master’s wife. It was in these gatherings that she first met Gopal singh’s sisters from Lahore and sought their help. Perhaps she thought to seek help from Gopal singh directly as he was everybody’s hero. How they met and planned their moves is not known. One evening, on return trip, one girl was found missing. It was schoolmaster’s wife. When all efforts failed to locate her, teams of men and boys were sent to the adjoining fields and wastelands. But there was no trace of her. Late at night it was discovered that Gopal singh was also missing. People put two and two together and came to the obvious conclusion. The school teacher wasted little time in reaching the murid-ke police station (about 8 miles away)to lodge the F.I.R.(first information report). The station house officer decided to visit the spot. By noon inquiry started in the village. The officer wanted two witnesses to support schoolmaster’s version of the incident. None came forward from the village to support him. This caused a stalemate. It was true that Gopal singh was missing. But he might have had some legitimate excuse to be away. Police could not take the risk of charging him without any witnesses. The school master’s junior advised him to approach Gopal Singh’s father, which he did. Our great grand father, Sardar Amar Singh, made inquiries about Gopal singh’s whereabouts. Nobody knew anything about him. On being convinced of his involvement in the case the father offered to be a witness agains his own son. The F.I.R was duly filed and police teams were dispatched in pursuit of the two. The twosome walked throughout night and reached Sheikhupura (a distance of 13 miles) after midnight. They passed the rest of night and next day sleeping in the main gurudwara. Their destination was Lahore, but before leaving, Gopal Singh wanted to see bebbe’s brother at sheikhupara to pass a message through him to his family. He reached there at night and was informed that a policeman was there an hour ago looking for him. He hastened back to the Gurudwara. A major part of the night passed discussing whether they should at all go to one of the sisters of Gopal Singh as they had originally planned. The police seemed to be at their heels. They must have obtained addresses of all his relatives. All of them might be under watch. If they are picked up from the house of his sister, it will be big embarrassment for him. So they decided to go direct to girl’s parents. Early next morning they set out on train and reached Lahore. They had hardly reached the girl’s parents house that they were picked up by the waiting police. The girl’s parents refused to accept their daughter and let the police take both of them. The police made a tight case against Gopal Singh. It charged him with kidnapping a minor girl. The crime was non-bailable and none was allowed. The lower court found him guilty and sentenced him to three years imprisonment. Gopal Singh’s brothers took the case to the high court and engaged a reputed lawyer He submitted to the court that it was one of the strangest cases in which the chief witness against the accused was his own father. It is very unnatural yet it has not been investigated nor explained why a father is giving evidence against his son. He also proved from girl’s school certificate that she was major. It was on record that the girl was mistreated by her husband and had sent a message to her parents in this regard through Gopal Singh’s sisters. On getting no response, she had persuaded Gopal Singh to take her to her parents. The fact that they had been picked up by the police at the house of girl’s parents was the clinching proof of the statement. The high court accepted these submissions and set Gopal Singh free. The school master never came to our village again. Bawa Amar Singh forgave his son and joined in the festivities. He never refused anything to bebbe and she played a major role to mellow him. After tumultuous events that took about a year to settle, the life was again on an even keel. One day Bebbe saw her husband take his brother’s daughter in his arms and hug her fervently. Overcome with emotion she promised herself to place his own daughter in his arms one day. That day took its own time to arrive. She was again in the family way and on course to redeem her pledge. She ardently prayed for her child to be a girl but it was a chubby boy. There was great rejoicing in the family. The boy’s grandfather got two bags of wheat, boiled in big utensils, to make into ‘ghunganias’, a measure of which, topped with a cake of candy (gurh), was sent to each house-hold, including the aadi vaasi’s cluster. Bebbe was slightly put out by the postponement of her pledge, but was soon overwhelmed with all-round congratulations. In due course the child was named Guman singh and for short was called ‘gaanha’. For once his father also, shedding his initial inhibition, often took him into his arms and kissed him. Bebbe almost forgot her past miserable days following the self-inflicted loss. But something at the back of her mind troubled her that all this too good, too soon, may not be all that true. Her misgivings were slowly taking a physical shape in a canvas of the future. ‘Gaanha’ was now about four years of age. So far his mother had never got him out of her sight. This day his friends approached him to play with them In the street. Reluctantly she allowed him to go with a strict warning not to go beyond the street. But children had something more exciting in their mind. A big tree on the bank of village pond had given way in the night storm and fallen with its long thick branches into the water. From its end on the dry land, the children got on it to the farthest branch, where it gave them the maximum spring, up and down. ‘Gaanha’ along-with his friends was enjoying this heady ride when his hold on the branch loosened and he fell down in the water. The water there was not very deep but was enough to drown a small child. The other children, greatly frightened, ran away to their houses, without raising an alarm. Bebbe after some time came out in the street to look after her son. He was nowhere to be found. She went to his friends’ houses but no one admitted to have seen him recently. She panicked and put some men and women to search him out. Further inquiries from his friends revealed that he was playing with them on the fallen tree. A quick search in the water under the tree brought out his lifeless body. Bebbe was stunned and so were the other family members. She instinctively gathered what was troubling her all along. ‘Mata Rani’ had not forgiven her from the sin of infanticide. She had claimed her son by way of punishment. Though her grief was great the time is a greater healer and her life again came on the rails. Once again she was pregnant. Once again she wished for a daughter with renewed vigour. A strong feeling got hold of her that only after she rears a girl child will her sin cease to visit upon her family. But man proposes and God disposes. She was again gifted a healthier and better looking son who became our father. The promise yet remained to be redeemed. This gave her many sleep-less nights and every time she remembered it she gave her son a tight hug as if to protect him from some unseen danger. For two years she never got him out of her sight and presently another small thing was growing in her womb. Perhaps her pledge will get redeemed this time at last to set her at rest. But these small family matters were nothing in comparison with a much greater calamity looming large over India since 1896. It was bubonic plague that started from Bombay and swept towards east and northwest decimating villages and towns on its way. In early 1898 it reached our village. People started dying like flies after a few days high fever. Families fled to safer areas carrying essential supplies with them. Only old persons got left behind to guard their houses. Our great grandfather advised his three sons to leave, along with their families, for their in-laws, who till that time were free from this scourge. His two elder sons left the village but his youngest son refused to leave. He said he had made a pact with his Brahmin friend to stay put, to help cremate the dead, mainly old persons, who alone were left behind. Bebbe refused to go without her husband. Baba Amar Singh got a big problem on hand. Collecting all his experience of sixty odd years he thus spake to his daughter-in-law: “My dear daughter, I appreciate your spirit. It is laudable but it does not go beyond that. Your husband is staying for a much greater cause, that of humanity. We might die by staying back; one day each one of us has to die. But yet we are immortal as we continue to live in the bodies of our children. That is the only transmigration I am aware of and which continues happening before our eyes. I have already ensured my immortality through the children of my sons and daughters. But yours and your husband’s perpetual life is in your hands, in the shape of yours infant son, and the one yet to be born. Your primary duty is to protect them for your husband’s and your own sake”. These words of wisdom had a salutary effect on Bebbe’s mind and she agreed to go to her elder brother at sheikhupura. This was her first visit to her parents house and for that matter to her brother, Tirath Ram. Her two brothers, as described in the earlier part of the story, were left behind when she was brought to our village as a bride. The elder brother grew to be a studious young man and for lack of education got employment as a helper in a cloth shop. The younger one for lack of parental care became a sort of vagabond and sometimes came to our village to seek financial help from his elder sister. But the elder one never came to our village. After a stint at the cloth shop, he started visiting villages, carrying a bundle of choice cloth pieces, to sell to the village folk. On one of these visits, in a village called ‘mullah’- a few miles from our village – he came across a young widow with a small sikh boy. She was a good looking girl but maltreated by her in-laws. On repeated visits both of them came to know each other to such extant that they decided to marry. The girl’s in-laws could not hear of it. So the girl eloped with Bebbe’s brother carrying her son along. They solemnized their marriage in a gurdwara at sheikhupura. Tirath Ram invited both his sisters at his marriage but Bebbe being embroiled in situation, post her daughter’s demise at that time, could not avail of this invitation. Thus it was her first visit to her sister-in-law also. She picked up two ear-rings and two bangles from her extensive stock of jewelry for her brother’s wife Mathra Dei. She used to show these to me, as my grandmother’s gifts, when I stayed with them for two initial years of my education. Sant Singh, her son from her previous marriage, had by then shifted to another house after his marriage. Of her two daughters, from her second marriage, the elder one was married in a sikh family of our village and the younger one was almost of my age. But we have digressed far away from Bebbe’s times. At the time of her departure from village, Bebbe had extracted a promise from her father-in-law that they will continue informing her of their welfare, through a messenger, once a week. An aadi vaasi servant of the family brought her news of the village each week. She learnt that only old people were left back, except her husband and his friend. Daily one or two old persons were dying and cremated by them with help from aadi vaasis and able-bodied olds. She sent the news of her own welfare back through the same messenger. This to and fro system of information continued for nearly two months. Then abruptly it stopped. Bebbe waited for another week. Then she panicked. She asked her brother to take her immediately to her village. As he was making arrangements for their journey, Bebbe’s brother-in-law arrived from the village to fetch her. He said Sunder Singh was ill and they had come back to the village on learning his condition. Bebbe was shell shocked. One thought constantly persisting in her mind was that Mata Rani had not forgiven her for her sin. First she took away her son and now she was after her husband to give her maximum pain. When they reached village her husband was still alive but in coma. As she wiped his face with her hand, he just opened his eyes and then closed them for ever. The plague had now spent itself and our grandfather was its last victim. It was not satisfied till it had felled its most valiant opponent. There was great mourning and much breast beating by women. Bebbe’s mother-in-law took her away from the women and let her weep in her lap. It was the last month of her expectant child and due precaution was called for its safety. Our father, then merely of two years, was made to ignite his father’s pyre, hardly knowing what he was doing. Soon after the last rites of the departed, a girl child was born to Bebbe, who became our ‘bua’ Saraswati – srasti for short. Bebbe heaved a sigh of relief. A girl had finally been sent to her as indication that her sin was forgiven. It was too late for her husband and for her pledge, of placing her daughter in his arms, but at least her son was safe from her curse. She was not worried about her daughter. She had named her after Mata Rani’s own sister goddess. She was dead right in her belief as our ‘bua’ lived for close to hundred years.
Dear Papaji Thankyou for this wonderful gift. I have read it and re-read it and enjoyed it every time. It is great writing and I want you to keep adding to it. Bebbe is becoming so real to me. I wish there was a picture of her somewhere. If you know someone who looks like her you have to tell me. Waiting for the next instalment....With lots of love-Ambi.
Dear Ambi, Though I am not yet ready with the next instalment,I may answer your query regarding Bebbe. No we have no picture of her; nor can I recall her face in any known person. Some of the resemblance can be seen in the face of her son. She had the chiseled features of a gypsy woman. Sometimes I see her face among American indian women in movies. Love Daddy.
An autobiography in fiction. Explanatory theme. Any discerning person on reading this title will exclaim,” It is all humbug. It can either be an autobiography or a fiction. It can’t be both. The two terms are mutually antagonistic – contradicere-dictum.” I asked the same question and made the same observations to myself, yet I let it as it is. Here are my reasons. We often hear critics saying, about a work of fiction, that it has autobiographical touches. Similarly while reviewing an autobiography, they are prone to say, that it smacks of fictional details. The line between the two is extremely thin. An autobiography without fictional touches will be dry as dust. Humor, an essential ingredient of an exciting work, feeds on fiction. A seed compared to a tree looks insignificant. Yet the whole tree lies encased into it. An event or an anecdote in the autobiography might be 99 % fiction and 1 % fact. Yet that 1% is the seed or the soul of that narrative. In a way every written work is an autobiography because it is the outcome of writer’s thought and experience. In order, however, not to leave anything to conjecture or doubt, I solemnly declare that this is purely a work of art – the art of humor – and any resemblance to fact or figure – past or present - may be taken as merely a coincidence. Consequent to this humble explanation, I beg my reader’s permission to start my story.. Birth - Gender I was born on 19th December, 1924 in an obscure village. Immediately after my birth I was proclaimed a male. That is the crux of my story. Because if I had been any other gender than a male, this story would have been vastly different. In that fleeting moment the destiny of my whole life got written. For instance, without my knowledge or consent, I was consigned to the male half of human race. It also got determined that I shall live with a wife or wives but not vice versa. I shall believe in the supremacy of males and in any war of sexes I shall stand by and fight on the side of my gender half. Religion – Community. My fortuitous birth in a sikh family made me a sikh for the rest of my life. Sikhs are a virile, though miniscule, community. Once we were neither virile nor miniscule. Then came Guru Gobind Singh. He created a section of us into ‘Khalsa’ and made it virile. ‘khalsa’ later made us miniscule. Let me explain. ‘khalsa’ is a Persian word. It stands for king’s personal assets, lands, properties and body guards. The word ‘khalis’ is derived from it to have the meaning of ‘pure’ because king’s personal wealth was considered pure or legitimate. The proverb ‘kharhe ka khalsa’ also came from there, meaning royal property lasts till ruler is in power. The Guru created khalsa, from among his Sikhs, so as to have a body of personal warriors around him, to protect his family and mission. He did his best to enlarge their number to become a shield of the Sikhs. Ultimately he envisaged them to play the same role among sikh people as the armed forces do among civilians. The 5 K’s were, to be, the parts of their uniform. The ‘khalsa was very dear to his heart. In his famous invocation,”Sukhi vussay moro parwara – Sevak, sikh, sabbay kartara” ‘sevak stands for the ‘khalsa’. Here Guru prays for the welfare of his people in the following order – Family, Khalsa, Sikhs and God’s other creatures. At another place he says his mission, his glory. his victories are all due to the khalsa. He prophesised,”Raj krega khalsa” (Khalsa will rule) and khalsa did rule, as a sovereign power, over a large empire, consisting of most of present Punjab, Haryana, Himachal Pradesh, Tibet, whole of Pakistan, Jammu, Kashmir, Ladhakh and parts of Afganistan. Long after Guru Gobind Singh, the Sikhs existed in three forms. First of all, the khalsa, who were administered ‘pahul’ (sweetened water called Amrit) by way of initiation and made Amrit dhari Sikhs, to follow all the tenets of Sikhism including 5 K’s.and to append ‘singh to their name. The second section consisted of ‘kesh-dhari’ sikhs who sported full length hair on head, appended ‘singh’ to their name, but were slack on one or more requirements under 5K’s and also did not take ‘pahul’. The third section was of ‘sehej-dhari’ sikhs, who did not keep long hair nor appended ‘Singh’ after their name, but believed in the sikh gurus including guru Granth Sahib and observed sikh reeti (way) in their social customs. In other words they kept on to the same form as was current in the times of first nine Gurus.These three groups were in the ratio of 1:5:25 i.e there were five times as many kesh-dhari Sikhs as the khalsa and five times as many sahej-dhari Sikhs as the kesh-dhari ones. When the ‘khalsa’ lost its empire to the British, It had no territories to rule over. Even the gurudwaras were in the custody of sahej-dhari Sikhs. Warfare and the rule were the only things they knew. Being out of occupation, they thought of ruling over the hearts of Sikhs by capturing the gurudwaras. They called it, liberation of sikh shrines, from outsiders. So around 1930 they started a movement to oust the sahej-dhari Sikhs from the management of sikh shrines. The whole body of Sikhs was like an ocean in which khalsa was like mere salt. The sikhs existed from Dacca to Kabul, and Tibet to cape comorin but khalsa was confined only to some pockets of Punjab. Udasi Sikhs, working on the lines of Budhist bhikshus, were spreading the sikh faith among a large multitude, throughout the land of Hindustan. Gradually the main line India would have turned to Sikhism as it did earlier to Budhism. But such a large body was difficult to control and rule over. The khalsa then decided to cut this behemoth to the size of a lamb . With one stroke of the pen they declared that those without the appendage of ‘singh’ and not sporting long hair were not Sikhs. One difficulty came in their way. None of the gurus had singh after their name, including guru Gobind Singh, who for 34 years out of 42 years of his life, was known as Gobind Rai. They also are not known to have kept long hair on their head. The problem was however hushed and swept under the carpet. The khalsa Sikhs were vociferous and their fiat held the ground.. The shrines were occupied and ‘sahej-dhari Sikhs thrown out of the sikh fold. The Sikhs shrank to 1/5th of their prospective size. In 1950’s the chance to replenish their ranks again arrived. Dr. Ambedkar expressed a desire to embrace Sikhism, along with his numerous Dalit following, spread throughout India, with just one condition, that they be exempted from keeping long hair. Master Tara singh was at the helm of sikh affairs at that time. He was a Brahman convert to Sikhism. Partly due to his caste consciousness and partly due to khalsai abhorrence of ‘sahajdharis’ he spurned the offer and lost this glorious chance. Considering that ‘Dalits’ constitute nearly half of the Hindus, the enormity of our shortsightedness can only be imagined. This is how ‘Khalsa’ hijacked Sikhism for their vested interest. In the words of Bhai Gurdas, the fence ate up the crop. Guru Gobind Singh had warned the ‘Khalsa’:-
“Jub lug khalsa reh nyara - Tub lug bhekh diyon main sara Jub eh gahai biprin ki reet - Main na kroon in ki parteet” (So long as Khalsa remains unique – I shall give it power and physique But if it takes to brahmanical ways That will be our parting of ways)
Disregarding Guru’s warning, the present day khalsai have become priests in gurdwaras like Brahmins in temples, performing almost same rituals as the latter do. Gouging on sacred food and leading sedentary life, they have become flatulent and unfit for Guru’s martial duties. They prefer music and harmonium over fencing and sword-play. The Guru has therefore withdrawn all power from them. In the 1984 pogrom, not a single khalsa dared to protect its protege, placed by the Guru under his guardianship, from maddening mobs.. . I am not a khalsa but a simple sikh, yet I am in the good company of the likes of Harbhajan Singh, Khushwant Singh and Man Mohan singh. Childhood - Family I seem to have finished my story before I began it. The trouble is I am 84 years old. In between the narrative, I am likely to jump places, and delve into some later period, in terms of action or thought. In the first two years of my life, I am told to have done nothing remarkable, except breaking my thigh bone, courtesy my elder sister. So I start from when I was two years old. I remember that milestone because it was then that I made my first weighty statement. When asked by chacha Ram Lal, in jest, what type of wife I would like to have I answered, “One who is weaker than me but stronger than others”. It was not a statement made off the cuff. Lot of un-noticed observation must have preceded it. To tell you the truth I have not made a weightier and more meaningful statement since then. But the period relevant to that statement is a way off. Presently I am in the care of my mother, my grandmother, my father and chacha Ram Lal whenever he happens to be with us. I have written extensively about the last three separately. Here suffice it to say that my father was the type whose command could turn the likes of me into a Casablanca; my grandmother was a Godmother and chacha Ram Lal a kindered soul. But I have not spoken much about my mother. She was a highly educated woman (according to the standards of the time) – academically five grades higher than my father. She was a gentle lady of genial disposition. She never learned how to command us. Perhaps she did not feel the need for it because of an experienced general in the house for that. She possessed a sense of humor of the silent but intellectual type. To cajole, to have our lice picked up from our head, she used to tell us interesting stories. Most of these she made up herself. Let me tell you one of these. “Once a buffalo and a sparrow became great friends. They could not spend a single moment away from each other. The sparrow sat on the back of buffalo the whole day getting down only to pick up some worms. She even released her trickle on the buffalo’s back which the latter washed off with her long tail. One day the sparrow thus spoke to her friend, “Dear friend, friendship is a two way affair, in which there is give and take. You give me a ride and also let me trickle on you. But I give you nothing. I know I can’t give you a ride but I can, at least, let you ease yourself on me.” The buffalo advised her not to get taken up with formalities but the sparrow insisted in the interest of cementing their friendship. At last the buffalo gave in. The sparrow sat on the ground and the buffalo released a cascade of dung on her, submerging her completely. Not seeing her coming to perch on her back, she thought the sparrow had gone for a wash and would return to her later, and so she walked off. A peasant woman collected the dung to make dung cakes. She was glad to find a sparrow in it. She put up a kettle on fire in order to cook it. The sparrow pleaded, “Please Ma, at least wash me before cooking” She washed her. Then she pleaded, “Please Ma dry me up before cooking” The woman agreed and put her under the sun. As sparrow’s wings dried she was able to take a flight and flew to a nearby tree. The peasant woman was distressed and accused the sparrow of faithlessness. The sparrow acknowledged her services and thanked her for these. By way of giving something in return she gave her this advice, which also is motto of this tale.. “Never make friendship with the high and the mighty”. The character of these stories was simplicity itself as they were meant for infants. For those who may find this tale a little frivolous, I may quote Guru Angad’s following couplet:- “Naal iyane dosti vdaru siyon neh Paani under leek jyo tis da thao na theh” (Friendship with a stranger and love with a person of rank Is like a writ on water, no sooner written than it sank) The tale supplies a graphic proof of the Guru’s saying. It is simple in craft but profound in meaning. We will come across more about mother in Bebbe. Roles interchange - Cosequences of. Even at the very young age, I had gathered enough knowledge about the world to ponder on. Life was a relationship in which a man and a woman were partners.; the man being a dominant partner. This was the usual pattern that gave it a smooth running. But it was not universal. Had it been so there would have been no problem. But now and then some woman insisted to wear the pants at home and the man became a butt of people’s jokes. I did never understand why a woman would do any such thing. Throughout ages woman has been praised for humbleness, mildness, submissiveness and man for authority, bravery, and dominance. For instance Sita was an epitome of submissiveness and Rama that of bravery and each was eulogized for respective qualities of opposite nature. Consider for a while that they happened to exchange their respective qualities with each other. Now visualize what Ramayana will be in that circumstance. Here is an extract from the imagined Ramayana. Sita :- “Rama darling, I hurt my finger yesterday while stalking a stag. Could you go today in search of some game.” Rama:- “Sita dear, you know how much I fear the thicket, when all alone. Besides, stag is not my cup of tea. Sita:- “Please; you can at least hunt a rabbit or two. Take Lakshman also with you.” Rama:- “O.K. but please keep your ear towards us in case we get into some trouble” (Taking their bows they proceed to jungle. After some time Ravana enters their abode. Ravana:- “Alakh Nirinjan”. Sita:- “Who is it.” Ravana:- “A hermit, ma; looking for a piece of bread” Sita:- “Welcome your holiness; come in and have some water also.” Ravana:- “Here is some line ma. When I try to cross , it flares up into flames.” Sita:- “Oh! Excuse me. We call it ‘Sita-rekha’. When I go hunting I draw it around the cottage to protect Lakshman and his brother. Today, they have gone hunting and I forgot to wipe it off.” (Sita comes with a broom and obliterates the line. Ravana appears in his royal robes with a golden crown on his head. He tries to hold Sita from behind. Sita shoves him off and strikes him with the broom handle with such force that he gets thrust into the ground up to his knees. Sita is amazed to see him go short by1½ feet. Ravana is dumb-found) Ravana:- “I beg your parden, ma. I lost my balance while changing into my royal dress. I inadvertently happened to touch you and perhaps you misunderstood. I am Ravana, the king of Ceylon. I heard great deeds of your munificence and came to test these in the garb of a hermit. Please excuse me.” Sita:- “Well..well; so you are Sarup Nakha’s brother! I did hear of some tiff between her and Lakshman. Children will be children you know.” Ravana, rubbing his head with his hands, speaks mildly, “ By any chance, ma, were you Durga in your past life?” “To tell you the truth”, says Sita, “ I am Durga in this life too” “ That’s why – That’s why” repeats Ravana ruefully.
( Ravana takes leave of Sita and repairs towards his kingdom. On the way he meets two young lads, carrying small bows and arrows, and a hunted hare between them.) Ravana:- “Excuse me sweet lads: Are you by any chance Rama and Lakshman of Ayodhya”. Lakshman with an air of confidence, “ Of course we are. What business is it of yours.” Ravana:- “None, in fact. But I was wondering why are you carrying small bows and arrows. With these, naturally, you can hunt only hares and rabbits. I happened to pass by your cottage and there I saw a big bow with long and thick arrows. Why don’t you use that”. Lakshman, a little abashed, “Oh! That: That in fact is Sita mayya’s hunting bow. It is too heavy We can’t lift it. Bhabi won bhayya with it in the swayamber.” Ravana to himself, “I am going empty handed. What shall I show to my people as fruits of my labor. These youths seem to be an easy game. Why not take them along.” So he abducted both and kept them at Punch Vati. If you are a Ram bhagat you will not like this narrative – nor did I when I wrote it. I only wanted to show how ridiculous it would look if man and woman stood in each other’s feet. How any one could act contrary to one’s own nature was beyond my comprehension! But that is what life is and in any such contrariety it is the man who is the chief sufferer. Strangely it is not always the lowly and the meek who suffer from this malady. The high and the mighty are equally prone to it. Socrates, we are told, had a shrew for a wife. His long walks in the open, to escape her nagging, led to the development of his philosophy. Shakespere’s drama ‘Taming of the shrew’ is supposed to have autobiographical touch. Napoleon, the great, used to write abject letters to wife Josephine in order to humor her. So, as I grew up, I was always on the look out for a remedy against this impending danger. For this purpose I searched a vast volume of literature in Urdu, English and Persian. At last I found a story in Persian which seemed to answer my need. The title of the story was – “Gurba kushtan rooze awwal” (The cat must be killed on the very first day). It ran like this. Taming of the shrew. “A newly married person invited his friend for dinner. After introductions the host asked his wife to serve them drinks. “Yes my master” answered his wife and within a minute two glasses of wine were on the table. Then he asked for some dry fruits and these too were on the table in no time. After the drinks the food was served which was a great treat. In between, his wife would politely inquire, if the master and his friend needed any other thing, and if they did, it was readily provided. The guest was greatly impressed. When the dinner was over he thanked his host’s wife for her excellent table manners. “No sir” answered the woman politely, “ that was just my sacred duty”. When the host was seeing him off, the friend asked him in wonder, “Dear me; where in the world did you get such a sweet wife. Mine, in comparison, is a bitter gourd grown on a neem tree. She relishes in treating me like dirt”. His friend replied, “Such women don’t come ready made, my friend. They have to be cultivated with shock treatment. On the day mine arrived, I killed a cat, in her presence and out of fright she became docile and obedient”. On homeward journey, he thought over his friend’s method and found it flawless. He decided to try the same plan at home. On the way, he bought a small cat from a pet shop, and brought it home in a bag. Then in the presence of his wife, he let the cat out of the bag, and taking a heavy stick, killed it with one stroke. His wife watched him, for a moment, with consternation and then cried, “What on earth is this? Have you gone mad? You seem to need a psychiatrist”! He was surprised to see his plan go awry. Distressed, he went to his friend and apprised him of his debacle. His friend had a hearty laugh. He told him there was nothing wrong with the experiment. Only it had to be performed on the very first day - “Gurba kushtan rooze awwal” is the prime need. I noted two important things from the story and put them in the closet of my mind. One, the method of taming the wife, and two, the timely execution of experiment. Hunting a wife. As I approached the marriageable age the services of a go-between were needed. In those days, matrimonial services were not available. Relationships were fixed by word of mouth. In such situations an unoccupied person, vagrant by nature, but socially well connected, came handy. A little thinking brought out that chacha Ram Lall perfectly filled the bill. He was sent for and apprised of the problem. He said he already had a girl in view at Lahore. In fact her parents, whom he knew, had asked him to look for some boy for their girl, and he had suggested my name to them. A date and time was fixed, in consultation with the girl’s family. It was decided that I will go to Lahore with chacha Ram Lal to see the girl. On the appointed day we started with this object in view. On the way Chacha again asked me what sort of girl I had in mind. My earlier statement flashed before my mind, but having suitably provided for it in my plan, I did not feel the need to repeat it. Instead I replied that the girl should be educated and good looking. He assured me that I need not worry on those two counts. Some stray thoughts. The last fifteen or so miles of journey was by train To pass time I started ruminating on the changing patterns of matrimony.Till early twentieth century, all marriages were arranged ones. The boy and the girl saw each other only after the marriage was solemnised. It was like lottery – you got the prize or you didn’t. In the second quarter need was felt for some change. Love marriages were yet way off. In fact they were considered highly despicable. A via media was put in place. A meeting of the two families was arranged, usually at the girl’s house. The supposed idea was for the boy and the girl to see each other. For all practical purposes, however, it culminated in the exhibition of the girl, before the family of the boy, in most abject manner. Quite often she was asked to sing or knit. Her approval of the boy was taken for granted. It was the boy’s approval that was eagerly sought. In my view it was a most unfair practice and in this regard my sympathies were entirely with the girl and her people Tables turned. As we reached the girl’s house a crowd of people was present to receive us. After a few formalities and serving of some refreshments, I found myself amidst about a dozen women and girls, sitting in a semi circle, with half a dozen men forming the outer arc. I looked about, among the girls, for the girl in question. In my view, she should be better dressed and made up and look more bashful than others. But unfortunately I did not find any one with such distinguishing features. Any way, I though, she will shortly be introduced. For some embarrassing moments there was complete silence. Every body was looking at me. I felt like a newly arrived zoo specimen exhibited to curious onlookers. Nobody felt the need for introductions. Mercifully some body broke the spell and asked me if I was employed. I did not expect this at all. I thought it was my privilege to ask questions, and those too from the girl, who was not yet even been announced. I was put to bat on a sticky wicket without so much as even a coin having been tossed. However this was not the time to score points and so I began, “..eh..eh..eh (every body laughed). Clearing my throat, I resumed, “No, not at present, but I was employed earlier, first in the Air force and then in a civil office at Simla.” Pinching me from behind, Chacha Ram Lal interjected, “No; he is still employed and has come on leave only. I was in knee deep waters. I hesitatingly explained, “Chacha has been away for long and is not aware of the latest position. I have resigned my post at simla and now am planning to join service in Delhi. This satisfied every body including chacha Ram Lal. Then I was questioned about my pay. I said I was getting Rs 90 a month in my last posting. Even my prospective father-in-law too must have been getting only that much after 20 years of service. So every body was satisfied on that count also except chacha Ram Lal. He insisted that I was getting Rs. 500 a month - Only I did not know that - because, according to him, my pay was collected by my elder brother. This was laughed away by every body, including myself. Then I was asked up to how far I had read. I said I had passed the 12th class in first division. Incidentally, I had the certificate in my pocket. Catching a glimpse of doubt somewhere, I drew the certificate and placed it in the hands of my father-in-law. His brother teased him,” See Gurbaksh Singh; and you are only a third division matriculate.” This caused a big laughter and slightly eased my nerves.All the men were duly impressed and did not ask any other question. Then a lady sitting on my right hand side asked me about my brothers and sisters, their marital status and occupations. I politely answered each and every question and everybody appeared to be satisfied. Then a heavy set man with a booming voice spoke,” Gurbaksh Singh, you can not get a better son-in-law than this. Order some sweets and close the deal.” Nobody asked me how I felt or if I had any questions to ask. My approval was taken for granted even before I had seen, what in the language, visa-vis deal, is called a commodity. The stark realization came upon me that I had been reduced to the same position to which usually the girl is driven and for which a while ago I had expressed my sympathies for her tribe. The tables were turned upon me and I seemed not being able to do anything about it. Taking their leave chacha and I came out. Mightily distressed, soon as we were alone, I asked him tersely, “But Chacha, where in the hades was the girl I supposedly came to see. I have not the foggiest idea about her” Chacha patiently replied, “The one on your right, who was asking you questions about your brothers and sisters……” My heart started sinking. Interrupting him I said, “ Well, she is so so in looks, but chacha don’t you think she is a little too mature and a little too bold.” In a deprecating tone Chacha added, “Let me finnish first. That was not the girl. That was girl’s mother. The girl was not even there because she refused to come for excess of bashfulness”. I was somewhat pacified, but I thought, I was going to be the only man on earth, who was expected to approve of a girl, by looking at her mother. Granted that it had its own advantages. That way you could fore-tell how your wife would look at her mother’s age. Those who overlook it, marry a calf and end up with a buffalo. But this was not the time to gloat over future prospects. There were more important things in the present than that. And one of these was bothering me at the moment without suggesting a way out. The next day my prospective father-in-law arrived with baskets of fruits and packages of sweets and I was duly betrothed, inspite of my lukewarm protests. My chief complaint was that I was not shown the girl. I was not much worried about the level of her education, due to my belief, that the city girls are well – rather too well - educated and I being not yet even a graduate, I feared the latter. Chacha Ram Lal assured us that he had seen the girl; that she was fair, good looking and healthy. But I had no faith in him, when he was not even married himself. So mother promised that she will have a look at the girl when she next visited her brother in Lahore. This finally put me at rest. But something down under still nagged that I had perhaps lost the first round.
Dear Ambi, This is the first installment of promised material. Let me know your take on it. Love, Daddy.
Dear Papaji I thoroughly enjoyed reading this piece. The tale of you going to see Biji is delicious. Write more about it. I am glad you finally wrote the piece about sikh history. You have been talking about it for so long, now we have it in writing. It does not fit your title of 'Humor' though. It is an essay by itself. With time all this is going to become a moot point. The way things are evolving sikhs are going to find their own way out. In America this is already true. The inside out story of Ramayan is interesting but maybe should be left out!! However, continue your own story for sure. I am eagerly waiting for the next instalment. Yours Ambi
Dear Ambi, Thank you for your valuable comments.I appreciate your sensitivity. I had my own doubts concerning points made by you. That's why I was hesitating to put it on your blog. I wouldn't like you to be embarrassed by any of my writing. You are free to edit it in any way you think fit. Love, Daddy.
Dear Ambi, Subsequent to my above post, you may delete all matter starting from.....Consider for a while that they happened to exchange.... upto the....If you are a Ram bhagat.... para. Add in its place as follows:- 'Some people might accuse me of male chauvinism. To them all, I say, "Right from the 'Garden of Eden' down to all the religions of the world, the woman has been assigned its proper place, which is, to play the second fiddle to the man. Any one born into, or believing in any religion, can not raise his finger at me." There after you may trasfer it to some branch line, as it has come in the way of Bebbe. I have seen your comments on 'payal' and would do the needful. Love, Daddy.
Dear Ambi, I have had your take and I fully agree with it. Here are my new fillers for the respective niches of ‘Khalsa’ and ‘Sita’.
Religion – Community. My fortuitous birth in a sikh family made me a sikh for the rest of my life. Sikhs are devout followers of Guru Nanak and his successor gurus. Nothing for us is more important; not even a piece of history, than the edification of our Gurus. So finding our first Guru being born on 15th of April, not a particularly auspicious day, we changed his birthday to the most auspicious day viz. ‘Katak ki puranmashi. We are a virile, though miniscule, community. Once we were neither virile nor miniscule. Then came Guru Gobind Singh. He created a section of us into ‘Khalsa’ and made it virile. ‘khalsa’ later made us miniscule. Minuscule here should not be taken in derogatory sense. Isn’t small beautiful in its own way? Doesn’t small, prevent things from getting unwieldy; make them simple and manageable? We are simple folk and are not afraid to admit it. Besides there were historical reasons for doing so. For one, the ‘Udassis’ whom Guru Nanak had rejected as reactionaries had recanted and come back into the sikh fold. They had been propagating Sikhism all over India and had converted half of it to the sikh way of life. We had become big. But ‘big’ is not always beautiful. See what happened to Budhism! It became big and spread all over India. Hindus said, “Yes we are budhists by religion, but as we live in Hindustan, we are hindus by habitat and culture”. They put Budha’s idol along with their own and all became hindus once again. They would have done the same to us if we had gone as big as the budhists once were in India. Granted that the sikh people had forgiven the ‘udassis’ for their original recalcitrance. Granted that the voice of democracy was on their side. Granted also that an ‘udassi’ was one of the chief warriors of Guru Gobind Singh. But the ‘Khalsa’ was not ready to accept them as Sikhs, especially when they were managing and occupying all our shrines. Earlier we allowed them this privilege as we were pre-occupied, in carving out an empire to rule upon, as prophesied by our Guru. When we lost that empire to the English , we had pretty well nothing much to do. Of course we could try to drive out the English and retake our empire. Hadn’t the Guru taught us (Ek lakh se ek larhaun) for one to stand against one and a quarter lakh enemy? But it was very difficult to drive out the English. And we had got tired of doing difficult things. It was comparatively much easier to drive out ‘Udassis’ from our shrines and this we effectively did. Even the English helped us in this task and we thanked them for it. With this task completed we also drove out ‘Sahej-dhari’sikhs, who did not sport long hair, and trimmed the proper Sikhs to 1/5th of their original size. Numbers is not the criterion – Khalsa or khalis (pure) surely is. If numbers was any consideration, we could have got as many as we needed, when Dr. Ambedkar offered, along with his dalit followers, to embrace Sikhism. But we spurned that offer. All through I have used ‘we’ for the general body of ‘kesh-dhari’Sikhs which includes ‘khalsa’ (Amrit-dhari Sikhs) and plain Sikhs in the ratio of 1:5. Although plain Sikhs command a huge majority, it is the ‘khalsa’ which calls all the shots. Unfortunately I belong to the plain category. So do many other well known Sikhs like Harbhajan Singh, Khushwant Singh and Dr. Man Mohan Singh. We have a lurking fear that we may perhaps be the next target of the ‘khalsa’. May this come out to be an unfounded conjecture. After all Khalsa was created by the Guru to be the fence of the Sikhs. And the fence does not / should not eat up the crop.
Roles interchange – consequences of. Even at the very young age, I had gathered enough knowledge about the world to ponder on. Life was a relationship in which a man and a woman were partners.; the man being a dominant partner. This was the usual pattern that gave it a smooth sailing. But it was not universal. Had it been so there would have been no problem. But now and then some woman insisted to wear the pants at home and the man became a butt of people’s jokes. I did never understand why a woman would do any such thing. Throughout ages woman has been praised for humbleness, mildness, submissiveness and man for authority, bravery, and dominance.For instance Sita was an epitome of submissiveness and Rama that of bravery and each was eulogized for respective qualities of opposite nature. Some people believe that Sita was submissive because she was weak. These people have not read their Ramayana properly. Valmik, the author of Ramayana, tells us that in the home of her father ‘ Raja Janak,’ Sita was the only one who could lift ‘Shiva’s’ bow to wipe the dust from below it. It was for this reason that lifting of this bow by her suitors was made the chief condition in her ‘suamver’. Only Rama, besides Sita, could lift this bow and this way he won her hand. She was not only strong in body but in character too, or how else she would have fended off Ravana for almost a year. If she had yielded, what would have been left for Rama to show his manliness on! Yet when Rama, her husband, asked ‘Agni-prikhsha’ of her to prove her chastity, she meekly walked through the fire. Not that she had no case. She too could have asked her husband to do likewise. But she didn’t because she was a woman and a wife and it was her duty not to question why but to obey him in all respects. Again when under exigency of the state, Rama banished her to the forest, she could have rightfully exclaimed, “I accompanied you in your banishment for fourteen years. Isn’t it your duty now to give company to me?” But no, she did no such thing. She did not even make a plea about her pregnancy. As a woman and a wife she did what the society had prescribed to be her duty. And it was to obey her husband under all circumstances. It is this quality for which we praise and honor Sita the most. And it is this very quality, that exists in our modern woman, in the least. Take for instance, Kiran Bedi of India. After doing her I.A.S she chose I.P.S. as her field of work, which till then was the exclusive preserve of men. Then she started doing unwomanly acts. She started leading her men from the front. She started catching criminals single handedly. She developed a bad knack of whatever men did to do the very same herself a little better. She even started holding ‘darbars’ like maharajas of old to hear people’s complaints. Her superiors hated her, but her subordinates doted on and insulated her from her enemies. She became a real danger to the manliness of men. So she was removed from the field and brought to Delhi office for bureaucratic work. Did you think that was the end of her mischief. No; such persons always create new fields for their annoying habits. She found Delhi roads cluttered with illegal parking. She supplied cranes to all police stations in Delhi, with instructions to lift all such vehicles to their stations and release them only after a hefty fine. Even very high, though offending, officers could not escape her grip.. Ordinary people were happy to find the roads clear of obstructions. But she trod on the toes of the high and the mighty. Again the manly ruse arose and she was shunted out to be in charge of Tihar jail, but not before she got acclaimed from Kiran Bedi to Crane Bedi. In jail also, instead of chastising the prisoners she started reforming them. She started schools for their education and technical institutes to teach them different trades. She also started rehabilitation centers to rid them of liquor and drug addictions. By this time, on her seniority, she was due for the post of Inspector-general of police Delhi. A danger bell started ringing in corridors of power. One voice arose in unison. “Officers of the state unite. You have nothing to lose but the ignominy of suffering a woman’s rule on the road.” So she was bypassed and a manly man was put on the job in her place. Quite un-womanly, she resigned in a jiffy. This is the end of all women who try to be even more than a manlike. If this is taken to be a very ordinary instance, let us take the recent case of prima donna Hillary Clinton. To begin with she received accolades of all and sundry. But very soon she started ruffling the feathers of democrat males. Her excellent work as senator and as mayor of New York was of little avail. For democrats an African American male was good enough but not a woman American. What to talk of presidency. She was not good even for vice-presidency. They would much rather lose the race for presidentship than see a woman as president of America. All hail to great America for showing the woman its proper place!
'Some people might accuse me of male chauvinism. To them all, I say, "Right from the 'Garden of Eden' down to all the religions of the world, the woman has been assigned its proper place, which is, to play the second fiddle to the man. Any one born into, or believing in any religion, can not raise his finger at me." There after you may trasfer it to some branch line, as it has come in the way of Bebbe. I have seen your comments on 'payal' and would do the needful. Love, Daddy
Dear ambi i wanted to add the quoted portion of my post of 11th sept. at the end of new material. Suppy has in- advertently typed the whole portion. you would know how to do it correctly. Love, daddy
Dear Daddy This Blog is becoming so complicated that only you and I will be able to understand it. Right now I am a little busy; When I have the time I will sort it out. I laughed through your last two posts. Very good. Some corrections: Hillary Clinton was never a mayor of any place. Obama won because he got more votes. He energised the younger generation that voted in drones for him. This is called Democracy. My Opinion is that Hillary did not want VP position. She wants to run for President next time and does not want to have to defend Obama's policies which she will have to do if she is his VP. She is very smart. If she wanted to be VP she would have to woe Obama. She only paid lip service to him in order not to seem hostile. Bill Clinton did not do even that. "You are allowed your own opinions. You are not allowed your own facts" What do you think of John Macain's VP pick? Thanks for taking so much interest in American politics. Are others following the election as closely as you are? Love ...Ambi
Dear Ambi, Hillary did have some connection with Newyork! Was she a governor? As for Palin, I do not know much about her, except that she comes from a place just a jump away from Russia but half a globe distant from America. She is the secret weapon of McCain. We have yet to see, if she is the woman standing behind a successful man, whom she pushed two steps forward when he took one step backward, or one behind a loser whom she pulled two steps back when he took one step forward. Love, Daddy.
Dear Ambi You are still very busy! Since your Biji is not ready to accompany us even in Febuary/march what about me making it earlier; say around 8th November. I am quite confident to do it alone. Besides I shall be on spot to watch the hurly burly of American elections. Love, Daddy.
Dear Ambi You are still very busy! Since your Biji is not ready to accompany us even in Febuary/march what about me making it earlier; say around 8th November. I am quite confident to do it alone. Besides I shall be on spot to watch the hurly burly of American elections. Love, Daddy.
On the death anniversary of his son, Bawa Amar Singh thus addressed his other two sons, “Dear sons; don’t for a moment bring this thought in your mind that your brother has died. Instead you believe that your father has died. From now on I absolve myself of all responsibilities towards you and transfer these to the family of my deceased son. I and your mother will live and die for them. I have decided to partition my moving assets into four parts. One each for you two; one for Bishan Dei (Bebbe’s name - it means consort of Lord Vishnu) and one for myself. So long as I and your mother live we shall discharge our responsibilities towards our daughters from it. After we are gone, whatever is left of it shall go to Bishan Dei. If any of you have any objection, let me know of it now”. His sons replied in unison, “No Babaji we have no objection whatsoever in what you propose to do”. Bawa Amar Singh opened his safe and asked his sons to take out all the gold jewelry and pile it on the floor. Then he asked them to make four piles out of it. Bawa Nihal Singh suggested that mother and Bishen Dei are better qualified to ensure that each house gets each type of jewelry currently in use. So they made four equal piles and with the help of a scale made slight alterations where necessary. In the same way Silver wares and jewelry were also distributed. The cash lay hidden under the ground in gharas (pitchers with broad mouth) – Silver rupees five hundred in each, and 10 gharas were allotted to each share. As for land, houses,shops and vacant plots , the distribution in three equal parts was left to be done at some later date. Time moves on and with it every living thing of the world. Bebbe’s son and daughter were two slender threads with which she was to bind posterity to its ancestors. Her son had reached the school going age but she was loath to part him from her. She could not tie him to her apron string for too long. One auspicious day his grandfather ordered for a salver of laddus and took him to the local school. After distribution of sweets among children, he was made to sit with them on a mat, which he reluctantly did after assurance from the grandfather that his mother will bring his lunch at noon and the servant will bring him home in the afternoon. This went on smoothly for nearly three years. Then one day, for making excessive noise, his class was hauled up for corporal punishment. The teacher broke his stick before he was finished with half the class. As he got busy in looking for another stick; father’s seat being near the door, he availed of this opportunity to decamp and escape the punishment. When his mother came with his lunch, he was nowhere to be seen and none knew where he had gone. Bebbe’s persistent questioning got the teacher unnerved and he put the whole class to search him out. They looked for him everywhere without any result. Soon an alarm was raised through out the village. All the village wells and ponds were scurried through without any trace of him. Towards evening, when all hope started dwindling, he was seen coming out of a sugar-cane field, where during the course of hiding, he was overcome by sleep. Bebbe put him to her chest and gave him a tight unending hug. Next day she withdrew him from school and arranged for him a sort of private tuition at home.
Bhabi Bhabi in our dialect is brother’s wife. When we were born and growing up we heard our uncles addressing our mother as bhabi. So we also started calling her by the same name. For us (her children) Bhabi meant mother. The linguistic transformation noted in case of Bebbe was repeated in the next generation also. Close to the time Bebbe withdrew her son from the school, her daughter-in-law (our mother to be) was being admitted in one at sheikhupura town. I am not saying it on benefit of hindsight. In fact they got bound in this relationship long before the time under description. They got informally betrothed to each other when Bhabi was just born and father was only three years old. They were formally betrothed again at the respective ages of five and eight and married quite late (according to the prevailing custom) about eight years hence; the commitment meanwhile having passed through numerous vicissitudes. The weirdest thing about all this affair is that the concerned families were not close, had no direct contact and did not know each other either. This mystery is the topic of our forthcoming narration. Sheikhupura, to which I have made a passing reference before, was the parental home of both my grandmother and mother. It is a historic town, named after emperor Akbar’s only son Salim, who in his childhood was fondly called ‘sheikhu baba.’ It is believed that he was born after Akbar paid his respects at the mausoleum of Sheikh Salim Chishti. Thus sheikhu became his nick name and Salim his formal name. Later when he became emperor he assumed the title of ‘Jahangir’ which means ruler of the world. In his youth he used to come to this place for hunting. About eight miles west of sheikhupura was a striking monument, called ‘Haran minara’ (watch tower for deers), which bore uncanny resemblance to ‘Golden Temple’ both in general plan and basic structure. As both buildings came up at the same time, it is moot point who took the design from whom. The old sheikhupura, where parents of my mother and grandmother lived, must have been the original village from the times of Jahangir. It had a ‘baazar, in the middle, running from east to west and residential streets on both sides in south and north. There were four streets on the south side and six on the north. Starting from east end of the baazar, my mother’s parental house was in the first south street and grandmother’s in the third south street. My mother’s father, Lala Barkat Ram Chopra, was ‘qanoon-go’ which literally means ‘interpreter’ of law’. By profession he supervised the work of about ten ‘patwaris’ who maintained records of agricultural lands. After marriage his first issue happened to be a girl. We have noticed earlier that the birth of a girl usually was a less welcome event. The very first issue being a girl was even lesser so. The worst scenario was the consecutive birth of seven girls which by no means was improbable. In earlier times it was ascribed to hapless parent’s grave sins in past life. Now we know from the theory of probability that chance of such happening is linked to 7 factorial (1x2x3x4x5x6x7) which in mathematical terms means one chance in about 5000 cases. Every body dreaded it. A popular method to break this series spell was naming the daughters on Indian names of week days: Soma, Mangla, Budha, Veeran; the fourth name literally meant ‘brothers.’ It was believed that from there on boys started being born in place of the girls. Our maternal grandfather (to be), as a matter of caution, named his first daughter ‘Soma.’ The second child was also a daughter and should have
been named ‘Mangla’ but he hesitated a moment. “Why not jump a step and name her ‘Budha’ instead” he contemplated. “That way last stage ‘veeran’ will be a step nearer” So he did accordingly but a vague sense of guilt gripped his mind. He sought counsel of his spiritual guru Baba Harnam singh bedi who earlier was instrumental in bringing Bebbe to our house. Babaji had many followers in sheikhupura and Lala Barkat Ram was one of them. He advised him that it was just a matter of self belief to console oneself. He had not broken any spiritual edict and need have no worry. This gave him much comfort; yet the third child who also was a girl was duly named Veeran and the wait with the hope for a male child started. As a further precautionary measure he paid a visit to ‘Vaishno Devi’ along with his wife and sought her forgiveness for his indiscretion. Lo! the miracle, the fourth child was a chubby male and in gratitude to the goddess was named ‘Devi Ditta’ (gift of Goddess) There was much rejoicing and thanks-giving. Not leaving any thing to chance, next year before the birth of his fifth child, he also paid a visit to Amar Nath shrine located in Kashmir, prayed for the birth of another male child and pledged to name him ‘Amar Nath’. A child was duly born but this time it was a girl. The vacant niche in the names of weekly days got filled. A thick gloom enveloped the house. Inconsolable father relapsed into depression. Alarmed by his condition, the family sent an s.o.s to their guru. Baba Harnam Singh arrived post haste and immediately took the situation in his hands. He urged him to stop grieving and accept the God’s will with grace. He assured him, “Your ‘Amar Nath’ yatra will not go waste; your next child will be a male and you will duly name him ‘Amar Nath.’ Lalaji was only half consoled. He wailed, “ I had three daughters already. Now I have the fourth one. How shall I marry all of them. Good grooms are so difficult to come by these days.” Babaji told him, “You need have no worry for your new born. From today onward she will be my responsibility. You shall raise her for my brother’s grandson who is three years old. He is the only son of his late father who has left him a rich inheritance. Currently he is under guardianship of his grandfather who has pledged his own share also to him. Your daughter will rule that house like a queen.” These comforting words had great effect on the grieving father and he paid his reverant obeisance to his guru. On returning home, Baba Harnam Singh told his brother Bawa Amar singh about all what had happened including his commitment made to Lala Barkat Ram concerning his daughter. Bawa Amar Singh promised to honor his word and asked him to speak to Bishan Dei also. Baba Harnam Singh thus spoke to Bebbe, “Dear Bishni beti; do you remember how, twenty five years ago, I brought you to this house under compelling circumstances. Despite your recent loss, I hope you do not regret it. Now under equally compelling circumstances, I have pledged to link your son to a newly born daughter of one of my respected
followers settled at your native place. It will be a fruitful relationship. I hope you will honor my word”. Bebbe was overjoyed to hear this. Overcoming her emotion she spoke, “Babaji, I indeed am fortunate to have your blessings for my orphaned son. You have done me a great favor by removing the burden of his marriage from my heart” In this informal way, the future of two small children was bound together. A little over two years later, the second son was born in the house of ‘chopras’. Baba Harnam Singh was respectfully invited to grace the occasion and bless the child. Chopras wanted to name the child after their guru. But Babaji reminded them the child was the gift, though belated, from their Amarnath yatra and should be named Amar Nath as earlier promised. This was duly done. Moved by the faith and fervor of the chopra house, Babaji volunteered the following blessing, “ May this house be blessed with yet another son; may its residents prosper and lead long and purposeful lives.” Chopra family was elated beyond measure and touched Babaji’s feet one by one. On this occasion, among other relatives, newly-born’s Nana Nani were also present. They were looking for a suitable boy for their youngest daughter and sought Babaji’s advice and help in the matter. After a little contemplation Babaji suggested to them another grandson of his brother who was of marriageable age. This was Bahadar Singh, son of our grandfather’s brother Nihal Singh. After due formalities, this marriage was solemnized in about a year’s time, and long before her own marriage, her mousi got wedded to mother’s elder brother-in-law. Bedis are famous for their blessings and curses turning up to be true. Another event was getting to be added to this long list of true predictions. The chopra family got their third boy, as blessed by Babaji, who was duly named ‘Guran Ditta’(gift from the guru). On this customary visit of Baba Harnam Singh to chopra family, Bebbe sent some jewelry pieces to her daughter-in-law (to be), through him,in order to formalize the relationship. They in return sent to her a turban with twenty rupees placed on it and five sers (kilos) of laddus. The boy and the girl were of 8 and 5 years respectively; the one was leaving the school and the other one was entering it. Free from school work, Bebbe’s son devoted his attention to household duties. At home he learnt his granfather’s occupation and outside he supervised cattle’s feed. Bebbe taught him the art of milking the buffalos. Being ambidextrous his capacity for work and out put was far larger than a normal person. But his main interest was in the land. He would go on long walks marking the family fields. Soon he learnt to read ‘patwari’s maps showing individual holdings. By the time he crossed ten, he knew more about land than his uncles and cousin brothers. One day reading the land map closely and calculating family’s total holding, he discovered that a small enclave of about 1/4th acre in size, on the periphery of the village, that belonged to us, was being cultivated by another family. He brought it to
the notice of his eldest uncle, who also was an expert in land matters, and he acknowledged his find. The ‘Parwari’ was sent for and the enclave got transferred to our land account. This particular strip, being nearest to the village, was eminently suitable to grow vegetables on. He procured seeds of some vegetables and sowed them at that spot. His eldest cousin brother had similar plan in his mind and wanted that strip for his own use. Naturally they got into arguments, and to clinch the issue, his cousin brother pointed out that since the whole land was in the name of his father Nihal Singh, ohers had no claim to talk about. Bebbe’s son was greatly surprised and reported the conversation to his grand- Father. He sent for his two sons and asked the elder one as to who owned the family lands. Bawa Nihal Singh answered, “Babaji, you own the family lands, but a large part that I purchased, with family money of course, is in my name. Besides the land of our Nanaji, who had adopted me as his heir, is also in my name”. His father advised him to distribute all the land in three parts and let each claimant have his share. Bawa Nihal Singh readily agreed and said that since Waryam singh had better knowledge of land than any of them, he might demarcate the three shares. Babaji was only eleven at the time. He confidently and carefully distributed all the land in three equal parts, as according to the rule of the game, he was to get the last share, after the other two had been selected and claimed. Bawa Nihal singh had the first right of selection. But forgoing his right he asked his nephew to have the first pick. Then he asked his younger brother to have the next pick and then kept the last share for himself. His father was so moved with his act of fairness, that removing a diamond studded necklace from his person, he put it on the neck of his son. The same year, Bebbe’s Father-in-law and mother-in-law, after a short illness, died one after another. Bebbe was planning to marry his son around this period. Now she would have to wait for a year. So long as they lived she did not have a moment’s care. Now the responsibility of two children had devolved on her. She also needed to take care of their inheritance. This consisted of nearly ten kilos of gold Jewelry, twice that of silver and about twenty earthen pitchers, containing 500 silver rupees each, hidden under ground at different places. Nearly six months after her parents-in-law’s death, Bebbe sent a message to the ‘chopras’ to fix a date for children’s marriage some time next year. They replied that their daughter had just crossed eighth year, was still studying in primary school and they were not ready to marry her yet. Besides her elder sister had just been married and she was required to look after and teach her younger brothers. Bebbe was greatly dismayed. Anyway she had to wait for six months on her own, would wait about six months more, and then take up the matter again. A year gone, she asked her brother at sheikhupura to go to the chopra’s house personally to fix the date for marriage. He reported back that they did not appear
keen on marriage and wanted another year or two to decide. Mean while Mangla, he added, had joined a private school for further studies. This school was started by the wife of one, Ushnak Rai,a local youth who had gone to U.K. for studying law. It was a boon for those girls who wanted to study beyond the primary stage. Bebbe’s son had entered his teens and she was getting desperate. To her misfortune Baba Harnam Singh had had a stroke and was partially paralysed. Bebbe waited for another year and then sent her nephew’s wife to her sister to press her for early marriage of her daughter. She too returned empty-handed, but what she reported to Bebbe in confidence, shook the ground from under her feet. Devi Ditta, Mangla’s elder brother was deadly against her marriage to a village boy. Her younger brothers were very much attached to her and did not want her to be married yet. The school mistress where she studied, also opposed marriage of girls at tender age and wanted her to continue her studies. Bebbe was beside herself with impotent rage. In a final attempt , Bebbe requested her elder brother-in-law, Bawa Nihal Singh to do something in the matter. Through his daughter-in-law he was related to the chopras and Bebbe felt they would not refuse him. He went and talked to the ‘chopras’. As negotiations proceeded he felt there was no oil in these seeds. So he asked them point-blank whether they were serious on the question of marriage or not. They tried to clothe their answer in mild language, but at the end blurted out, how they could give their daughter to a country lad? Bawa Nihal singh was equally blunt. He hit back, “I do grant our boy is a country lad but is your daughter a european.” With this the matter came to a final close and Chopras were told that was the end of the matter from our side. Bebbe’s son had crossed his fourteenth year and she was in great hurry to find a new bride for him. Messages were sent to all relatives, to suggest a suitable girl of some respectable family. Finally Bebbe selected a girl, whose elder sister was already married in our village. Bebbe desired the marriage to take place without delay. But before the arrangements could be completed, the girl’s mother passed away. Bebbe’s cup of misery was full. She could do nothing but accept inevitable delay. Hardly six months had passed that disturbing news about girl’s own health started leaking. She was reported to be suffering from some strange disease. She was taken to the city hospital where after an operation she died. Bebbe was stone-still. Baba Harnam Singh, after being bed-ridden for more than two years, was of late showing signs of recovery. Now he could walk with some support. Bebbe went to see him. He inquired about her welfare. She could not control her tears and started weeping profusely. “Babaji”, she sobbed, “The sapling you had planted is on the point of withering. My son, whom you had betrothed with the newly born daughter of your follower, is over fifteenth and still unmarried. Chopras are not keeping to their word. We did not inform you earlier
because of your delicate condition.” Babaji went into meditation for an endless minute. Then he spoke in measured tones, “Bishni, you need not worry any more. Your son will be married before this year is out”. Bawa Nihal Singh’s daughter-in-law was the conduit of information about chopra’s household affairs. Chopra had married his first two daughters in good houses. One boy was clerk in a civil office and the other, sub-inspector in police department. Good sons-in-law do not come cheap. He had to spend beyond his means on their dowries. For third one’s marriage he was not yet ready. But an enticing proposal came his way. He could marry her without any dowry and without even other customary expenditure. The catch being, the groom was a middle age widower encumbered by a grown up son and a marriageable daughter. Chopra fell for the bait. What he did not know at that time was that the groom was also suffering from consumption and had a few more years to live. Caught into this unenviable situation, he suffered from a guilt feeling that this misfortune had visited him for not honoring his guru’s word. He had no way to make amends as the boy meanwhile was reported to have been betrothed elsewhere. On learning that rival betrothal had fallen through and the boy was available for re-engagement, he was mentally amenable to revert to the original position. Under the changed situation, it did not take long for Babaji to bring both the parties close to each other again. ‘Mahurat’ for marriage was announced two months hence and both parties got busy in making arrangements for the marriage. A side outcome of this auspicious occurrence was a marriage proposal for Chopra’s eldest son, Devi Ditta, later pronounced as Dev Dut, from one of the invitee’s hailing from ‘Khutiala’, a place about two miles from our village, which was graciously accepted on the recommendation of their spiritual mentor. In due course, after a lavish marriage ceremony, Bebbe brought her daughter-in-law into her house with great pomp and show. The bride was thirteen years old, had passed the 7th class and could read and write in three languages – Urdu, Hindi and Punjabi. Bebbe’s own daughter would have been married by now but for the late marriage of her son. Now she devoted all her attention to it. She already had a boy in view, one Pyare Lal Marvah. He and his sister were orphans but had inherited a vast landed property of more than one hundred acres, in Kaloke village near sheikhupura. Within six months of her son’s marriage, she fixed up the marriage of her daughter also on an auspicious day divined by the priests. Came the magnificent marriage party riding on horses, but the groom carried in a carriage, under layers of blankets, attended upon by a semi-doctor. A night earlier he had caught pneumonia and had been crying with pain since then. Bebbe upbraided his elders for their callousness in bringing him in this condition instead of taking him to a hospital. They were shocked to notice utter lack of concern, about ‘mhurat’ for marriage, in Bebbe’s attitude. They wanted the ceremony to be gone through without
delay so that they could rush back for boy’s treatment. After all they were the boy’s side which custom demanded to have the last say. Bebbe told them point-blank, there was no question of any ceremony till the boy was out of danger and fit to walk on his own feet. The baratis tried to win over priest’s opinion and some local support about the inevitability of the marriage on the appointed day, but Bebbe told them firmly, that in the matter of her daughter’s future, she would not allow any one to over-ride her decision. The Marvah’s were a famous clan noted for their upmanship. It was highly galling to them to be put off by a mere woman. Making it a question of their honor and pride they refused to return without the bride and threatened to stay put till the boy was out of danger and fit to be married. Bebbe said it did not matter. She had enough provisions to feed them for a year if needed. They had no answer for that. At last the calm was restored and realities put in front. The baratis left behind half a dozen men and the rest decamped temporarily to await next call. Attending upon the ailing groom was his cousin brother, Inder Singh, who was studying medicine in second year of his medical course. He personally knew a competent doctor from his college, at Lahore, whom he dispatched an SOS. The doctor arrived with a box of medicines and proper treatment of the patient ensued. It took them ten days to control the ailment and restore him to health, which showed how seriously ill he really was. The news about his recovery was conveyed to the ‘baratis’ who had earlier left in a huff. They arrived in high spirits with customary hullabaloo. The marriage took place with all the necessary rites, except ‘mahurat’ which had to be given a go-by. Bebbe heaved a sigh of relief. She had married both her children within a year, which by any standard, was an achievement of sort she could feel proud about. Bebbe’s father-in-law had left to her a lucrative financial structure yielding a regular income much exceeding her household’s needs. In the absence of banks, the only means to keep the extra cash, which mainly was in silver rupees, was to bury it, within the house, under unpaved floor, secured in small earthen wares, in denominations of rupees five hundred each. Quite early in life her father-in-law had associated her in this work. Now she started taking her daughter-in-law into her confidence and performing this task with her help. Our mother had never seen such wealth in her parent’s house. In fact on her last visit she had learnt that her father had mortgaged his house, to raise a loan of Rs. 500, required for the marriage of his son. She could not resist telling her mother-in-law about it. Bebbe showed grave concern on such misfortune visiting her close relative. She readily gave a pot containing Rs. 500 to our mother, asking her to give it to her father for redeeming his house. He could pay it back in leisure, she added. Mother did likewise and her parents were greatly obliged for this timely help from unexpected quarters. Later in life, when our house fell on bad times, mother on certain occasions sought financial help from her brothers and they were always too ready to assist her.
Dear Papaji I have enjoyed this installment more than any other. This is wonderful and will become part of our family history for generations to read. Keep adding to this. I got very busy and could not call you. I have been opening and reading this many times. Good work and thankyou very much. Love You. Ambi
As stated earlier, Bebbe’s son-in-law Pyare Lal and his younger sister were orphans and were raised by their uncles, who also managed their vast property and land holdings. Soon after Pyare Lal’s marriage his sister was also married to a government servant, hailing from Gujranwala. Till this time, Pyare Lal with his wife lived with one of his uncles in a joint family arrangement. His parental house, totally un-attended, was almost in ruins. On the advice of his newly wedded wife and promised financial assistance from Bebbe, he started building a two storey house big enough for a large family in view. From time to time, Bebbe kept sending him money needed for this purpose. When the house was ready for occupation, Pyare Lal and his wife invited all the close relatives in a customary ‘Greh-pravesh’ ceremony. Bebbe’s son and daughter-in-law attended from in-law’s side with ceremonial gifts. All invitees were duly impressed with the imposing building. Our mother stored an idea in her mind to have, one day, a similar house of her own in her village. Now that Bebbe’s son and daughter were married her main focus on life was to hope and pray for a large progeny of each for the benefit of ancestors to continue living through them. She could not do much in that regard due to early widowhood. What she failed to do herself, she sought to achieve through her children. In this she was not denied. Soon after the marriage of her son a daughter was born into the family making her a grandmother. The new-born though died without completing the first year. This was a fairly common hazard in those days but Bebbe made much fuss about it. She blamed it on the lack of care by Bhabi’s parents, whom she was visiting at that moment, in connection with her brother’s marriage. One redeeming feature in the mind of Bebbe was that her daughter-in-law hailed from a family which was richly endowed in the matter of children. Besides the large brood of Lala Barkat Ram himself, his two married daughters had had about eight children between them in a short span of time.
I remember the names of Massi Budhan ‘s children born till then as Daulat Ram, Balwant Rai, Jaswant Rai and Shiela. Out of Massi Soma’s Children I seem to remember only Behn Vidya and bhara Ragunath. Bebbe’s daughter-in-law also came up to her expectation. Before the year was out, she was again with a child. This time it was a boy – Bhara Manohar, followed two years later by a girl behn Kumari. In another two years came a boy who was named Darshan (view) who passed away after a short view. His loss was lessened by the birth of a girl to Bebbe’s daughter (Bhua Sarasti) who was named Leela. Two years later, simultaneously, were born Bimla to our Bhua and myself to my mother. Within a short period Bebbe had a handful of children whom she loved with all her might. These were her real wealth, though she had a treasure of material wealth besides, which she was disposed to grant to her kith and kin for any need. At this time, her son-in-law (Phupar Pyare Lal) paid her a visit with a view to secure a rather large amount for some supposed need. To avoid embarrassment he suggested to Bebbe to keep it under wraps from her son and daughter-in-law. It was summer when inmates were used to sleeping on the terrace. Phupar Pyare Lal however chose to sleep downstairs due to slight indisposition. Very early morning hours Bhabi heard muffled sounds of digging down in Bebbe’s room. She alerted our father about it. Bebbe was not on her bed. Baba JI and Bhabi ji went down to investigate. They found Bebbe and her son-in-law standing with two pots of Rs five hundred each near a dugged out floor. Bebbe then had to disclose the whole matter to them. Phupar Pyare Lal sheepishly left in the morning carrying the two pots. Bebbe had never found herself in such situation before. It was her own money. She had full control over it. She could give it to anyone she desired. Yet a strange thought gnawed at her mind. There was something wrong in what had happened. She should not have been persuaded to hide anything from her, family. Her son had come of age, she felt. It was time to delegate the house responsibility to him. Between her wealth and her grandchildren she would any day choose the latter. So a week after the above incident she handed over her entire holdings of gold and rupees filled pots, with their locations, to her son and daughter-in-law, over their protestations.
Out of Bebbe's relatives two frequent visitors to her house were her nephew (chacha Ram Lal) and her younger brother (Ganpat Rai). I have separately devoted a chapter on Chacha Ram Lal. Mama Ganpat Rai is another interesting character needing to be told about. He was our father's mama but we too called him mama. Among general public he was known as 'mama garha'. Garha in our dialect means ‘hail stone’. How did he come to acquire that strange appellation is a subject matter of those facts which are called stranger than fiction. In our village there was a family of ‘Irains’. ‘Irains are of muslim caste engaged in the cultivation of vegetables and fruits that grow on creepers such as water-melons. The Irains had planted an acre of this fruit. There is a special method for planting it. The seed of a water-melon stored from an earlier crop is placed in a pit, saturated with manure. Such pits are dugged out at a distance of about twelve feet from each other and are similarly prepared and seeded. An acre can contain about a hundred or so of such pits. Then they are covered with the same earth that came out of the pits and suitably watered. In due course tiny buds peep out of the earth and develop into giant creepers. Each creeper can support scores of watermelons. Each ripe watermelon weighs from eight to ten kilos. This rustic fruit consists almost of ninety per cent of sweet juice. Village children have great fascination for this fruit. No wonder such patches of field are raided by them during night despite tight vigilance and a strong fence. On one such raid, durig a moonless night, Bhara Manohar, then only about four years old, also joined the grown-up urchins. The farmer was sleeping in the middle of the field. The children carved out a way from a weaker portion of the fence and entered with all possible stealth. But one intemperate give-out signal from one of them awoke the owner who came rushing with a thick staff. All elderly children made a safe exit but bhara Manohar got caught. Because of his tender age he escaped a hit by the stick, but not before a slap on his face, which left a telling mark on his cheek.
Mama Ganpat was on one of his visits to his sister. He took his punished ward to the farmer and told him of the great wrong he had done to the distinguished house of his sister. The farmer was unrepentant and defended his action. Mama Ganpat told him you have wronged a bedi child, under the protection of Guru Nanak. I as son of Shankar Mahadev (Ganpat means Ganesh) curse you that within three days your field of water-melons will be struck by a hail storm and destroyed. Those who overheard this curse took it as an angry outburst. Yet people were not sparing from taunting him,”Where is the hail storm, Ganpat ji: We do not see even a patch of cloud. This went on for two days. On the third day Ganpat, in answer to the taunts, boldly declared, that previous night, while passing by that field, he had seen a dreadful hail- burst over that field. All you doubting toms will witness its contents withering off within a week. With this lofty claim he left the village. Everybody laughed it off as a gesture of desperation. With Ganpat off, people even almost forgot the incident. But within a few days leaves of some of the creepers started drying up. The Irain thought they needed more water, which he duly supplied. But within a weak the plants started giving a withering look. The farmer was greatly troubled and had no option but report the matter to the village people and seek their help. Everybody was baffled. Mama Ganpat’s curse, earlier treated as skepticism, now started looking a miracle. Some people even claimed that it was within a possible range for a hail-storm to strike a given field and leave all the rest without any mark. Perhaps Ganpat had succeeded in turning his word into a marvel. All efforts to save the plants failed. After a month nothing tangible was left in the field and only option was to have the field cleared of the dead plants. Ganpat Baba’s name started being taken with lot of reverence tinged with fear. While clearing the field, a strange thing was got noticed. A dead creeper when uprooted demands a very strong tug at the roots. But these stricken creepers were effortlessly coming out, without offering any resistance, as if they had no roots at all. A close examination revealed that their roots had been cut below the earth with a sharp object. Now everybody guessed that it was all Ganpat’s doing. From that day onward he came to be called ‘Mama garha’.
Dear Papaji, I love mama Garha. Write some more about him. What did he look like. What did chacha Ram Lal look like. How did they dress. What did vadhe Baba Ji think of them. What did Bebbe look like. How did she dress. Did she dress like a widow. and how did widows dress like at that time. Was Bebbe a good cook. How did Bebbe and vadhe Bhabi Ji get along. Also write abot Bhabi Ji's parents. I remember all the stories you used to tell us abot your nanaji. Keep writing. I love reading. Write about chote Baba Ji and Kumari bhua ji; specially as they were in childhood. Waiting to read the next instalment. I cannot wait. With lots of love....Ambi.
Dear ambi, I am sending you first instalment on bebbe after nearly a year as something to chew while i get more such instalments ready which i hope will now be regular......
Love Daddy
Somewhere in the foregoing text I have announced my birth in the fifth order of my sisters and brothers of which one sister and one brother, first and fourth in rank, died in infancy. Another girl born just after me also died in childhood. Thereafter three boys and one girl by good fortune all survived. In my very first moment of conscience I woke up in the warm lap of Bebbe clutching her loose breasts in both my hands like a monkey kid. I must be about two years and Bebbe around fifty five years old at that time. As evening shadows lengthened I waited for my mother to light up the lamp hanging on the wall. I must have watched her doing this every evening dispelling the darkness with the glow of the kerosene lamp. As she got late I started fidgeting and crying loudly, “Hai palanga – Hai palanga”. Bebbe and Bhabi tried everything to console me short of what I tried to convey through my blabbering but all this to no avail: I cried all the more afraid of enveloping darkness. By chance Bebbe passed by the side of the lamp. I extended my arm and struck the lamp with all the force of my hand saying, “Ah ga”. Instantly everybody understood me. The lamp was lighted and I clapped my hands with glee. That was my first encounter with the real world and the idea got etched on my memory lane. As we look back on the growth of our family we discover a distinct pattern of assembly type maternity development. Soon after her marriage my mother became pregnant almost every second year. Here is the record. 1914 – Marriage. 1916 – birth of a girl who died in infancy un-named. 1918 – birth of a boy who was named Manohar Singh. 1920 – birth of a girl named Raj Kumari. 1922 – birth of a boy Darshan Singh (died in infancy) 1924 – birth of a boy named Baldev Singh (myself) 1926 – birth of a girl Krishna (died in infancy). Here ends mother’s first and major period of maternity and starts the tail end with child births happening once every third year, as follows. 1929 – birth of a boy named Chaman Singh. 1932 – birth of a boy named Kuldeep Singh 1935 – birth of a boy named Mohinder singh 1938 – birth of a girl named Kailash Kumari. It will be noted that amongst the six closely spaced children born during the first period only three survived but of the wider spaced four children in the last period all survived. Barring one or two all the deliveries took place at our village at the hands of a well-built sturdy mid-wife, without any birth related complication. This woman was once famously described by one of my cousin brothers in his native tongue as “(uh jehri bachay kadthi hai) – that one who pulls out children from nowhere”. This second set of dates was tabulated by me taking Kailash’s year of birth as 1938 as given in her official record. The other day I happened to check with Mohinder about his year of birth. He told me that he was born in 1932. When asked to explain the discrepancies he clarified that after partition of the country when our family shifted to Simla Kailash was about twelve years old. As her home education in the village was quite rudimentary she could be admitted only in one of the primary classes. Her age in the school was therefore given as of 9 years to protect her from students’ taunts. Building on this, Kuldip’s year of birth should be 1930 and Chaman’s of 1928. It was customary in those days to show the children as younger by one or two years. Besides as Chaman followed me to sheikhupura into his 5th Class when I entered my 9th class he may be younger to me by 4 and not 5 years.
The crux of the matter is that the pattern of children’s birth in our house after all remained the same throughout. It seems that when Bebbe handed over her wealth to her son and daughter-in-law she entered into a covenant with them that they will give her in return thereof a child every 2nd year. This they faithfully did. But this heavy burden sadly told upon mother’s health rather badly. Her body muscles constantly ached needing to be pressed by the mid-wife and in her absence by her own children. This condition lasted long after her maternity period was over. In ‘Bedi family journal’ blog her grand-daughter Ambi has eloquently described her grand-mother’s much felt need for bodily relief in the following words. “ If anyone ever happened to inquire about Bhabi Ji’s health they got a long list of ailments starting from her ever present joint pain to that pesky night cough and everything in between. She spent the day giving voice to her suffering in the form of short expletives and long sighs. Any time we sat near her she would slowly guide our hands to her joints that needed to be massaged. Bablee, my little sister was a regular recruit for this joint therapy. She was too little to be effective with her hands so she had to get up and walk on Bhabi ji’s legs. To keep balance she held Bhabi Ji’s stick that walked along with her on the floor next to the cot. Bablee did not like this at all. She escaped from it by spending as little time at home as possible; visiting all the neighborhood homes that did not have old visiting grandmothers. When at home she diligently spent the time doing schoolwork. However, there was still time left that she could not fill with anything. That is when Bhabi Ji would catch her. Bablee performed this duty morosely. Bhabi Ji sensed this and resented it. Bablee thought five to ten minutes of kneading Bhabi Ji’s body more than enough. Bhabi Ji liked the activity to go on for hours. Bablee was too timid to say no or to end it without permission. Bhabi Ji saw her as too puny to give any notice to her bored expression. Biji usually had to rescue her by calling her for some chore in the kitchen. Bablee was Biji’s ‘damsel-in-distress’. Biji had not outgrown babying her yet. That was one big strike against Bablee in Bhabi Ji’s book. In addition she was convinced that Bablee, out of spite, did not put all the weight on Bhabi Ji’s legs during massaging. When Biji heard this she was livid. When Papaji heard it (from Biji) he could not speak for good ten minutes due to the fit of laughter that burst out of him. With tears of mirth flowing down his eyes he tried, without success, to explain to Bhabi Ji that it was not possible to hold one’s weight back while standing on something. But Bhabi Ji was no scholar of physics and remained convinced that Bablee was somehow cheating her of the benefit of the full weight. She called her ‘khhachree’ - a conniving mule”. In this narrative we will often be jumping back and forth as past gets mixed with future. So back to my childhood. Bebbe and bhabiji shared the upkeep of newly borns between themselves. A new-born babe for reasons of breast feed remained with Bhabi ji for first year and a half and then came over to Bebbe.
Though Bhabi ji still looked after its essential needs like bathing and dressing but with the birth of a new child her share in its upkeep gradually lessened and Bebbe took it over for all practical purposes.The other house work was also shared between Bebbe and Bhabi and as Kumari grew up she too started extending her hand and thereby learning the art of house-keeping. Bhabi ji would get up early in the morning and start churning curd to turn it into lassi, separating handful of butter for family’s cooking needs. Later when she developed taste for Gurbani she would recite it sonorously rhythmizing it with the churning strokes. Bebbe meanwhile milked one or two buffaloes if Babaji had left for the fields rather early. Later she will keep the ‘Tandur’ hot and ready to bake afgani rotis. Only Bebbe could thrust her hand and arm into the burning furnace tilting and turning the ‘rotis’ into proper baking condition . Bhabiji could make ‘chapaties’ on ‘Tawa’ placed on a small earthen ‘Chulha’ fed with burning wooden sticks. She never learnt the use of ‘Tandur’ nor how to milk a buffalo. Bebbe sometimes taunted her for this. She ascribed it to the disadvantage of being a townswoman. Though both hailed from the same town, Bebbe had left it while still a child. So she did not consider herself a townswoman. As a new child appeared every second year, he or she had the best of Bhabi ji for nearly two years and then best of Bebbe for the next two years. As the first period with Bhabiji passed in a state of unconsciousness, it was the later part spent with Bebbe that each one of us remembered and cherished the most. Due to a fortuitous circumstance in which both the children, one above me and the other below me, died in infancy, this prized period in my case got greatly lengthened. So I had the best of Bebbe for much greater time as compared to my other brothers and sisters. Consequently my bond with her was also deeper. Bhara Manohar had left for Sheikhupura when I was only three years old. Kumari about seven years old then was traditionally stay at home and emotionally attached to her mother. So it was Bebbe and me sleeping and going everywhere together till Chaman grew up sufficiently to take up my place. Bebbe took great care of me. When I went outside to play with children of my age she would remain watching us from a corner and would never leave me off her sight. She would not feel at rest till she had taken me back to the house. In the evening I used to accompany her to the cattle shed to milk the buffaloes. We normally kept two buffaloes in milk yielding condition or one into milk and the other expecting the birth of a new calf and coming into the season of milk once more. Bebbe carried a big vessel made of copper to contain the milk. It was called ‘Dohni’ that literally means ‘milk container’. It had large base of increased capacity with comparatively narrow mouth so designed that if a moody buffalo while being milked gave it a kick and it dropped down, only a small quantity of milk would get spilled. Along with ‘Dohni we also carried a tumbler whose use and purpose was known only to us.
Towards the end of milking process, Bebbe would serve a tumbler full of warm and fresh milk to me and then drink likewise herself. Sometimes she used to put the tip of the buffalo’s teat in my mouth and send the dart of milk to strike at my throat nerves that produced an acute tinkling sensation which both of us greatly enjoyed. Our feast did make a dent in the quantity of milk that we brought home. Bhabiji would sometimes grumble in hushed tones that Baba ji always brought home more milk than brought by us but she would graciously ascribe it to Bebbe’s inexperience in milking the buffalos. Thus our secret remained a secret and Bhabi ji enjoyed the satisfaction of having found a fault in Bebbe’s work. Bebbe and Bhabiji never quarreled openly like traditional mother and daughter-in-laws. But they did exchange cold vibes initiated by Bebbe and followed by Bhabiji. Any effort at pleasantry by Bhabiji will be nipped in the bud by Bebbe. Any offer of money or gift was also flatly refused by Bebbe. She almost lived like an udassin – a person unattached to worldly needs and comforts. But she did have certain needs, like ‘Naswar’(snuff) to which she was addicted, that could not be avoided. So once in a while she would call up the local grosser and give him a measured quantity of grain from the grain store maintained on the ground floor to square his account. I would try my best to cover her steps but sometimes Kumari would watch the transaction and duly report it to Bhabiji who in her turn inform Babaji about it. Babaji would almost apologetically suggest to Bebbe that local shopkeepers gave an unfair exchange rate for the grain and as such it was advisable to pay them in money kind. Bebbe seemed not to hear nor did she ever act upon this advice. Bebbe had handed over all the gold arnaments to Babaji except a pair of ‘murkian’ (ear-rings) which she had been wearing from time im-memorial. It was a finely crafted piece of jewelery, almost six inches long and weighing about 5 tolas hanging royally in Bebbe’s ears. During all this time it was gradually cutting through the lobe and one side murki cutting right through almost dropped down on the ground. It was winter season when quilts are out. Bebbe put 0ff the pair and temporarily sewed it up in the corner of her quilt. In due course the quilts got packed and stored to be taken out next winter. Meanwhile Bebbe totally forgot where she had kept the ‘murkian’. A wild goose search ensued for the pair without much avail. It was common for the children to exchange left out broken pieces of metal for the candy and I too some times indulged in such bargains. Kumari helpfully suggested that Baldev having taken the gold jewelry as any other piece of metal might have exchanged it for the candy. Without realizing the seriousness of the situation I almost accepted the blame finding no use in defending myself. In fact I seemed to derive a sort of satisfaction that by taking the blame on myself, I had solved one of the chafing problems of the house. Came next winter and quilts were out once more. It was bhabiji who while handling Bebbe’s quilt felt a prick on her finger.
To find its cause she discovered the long lost pair of murkian. To celebrate the occasion and to give everybody a surprise she called the whole family together at night to disclose the find. All were overjoyed except Bebbe. She picked me up, hugged me to her bosom with tears in her eyes and refused to take back the pair as she said it had caused so much pain to the family.
Dear Papaji, I love your new post. Hope the next instalment will not be a year later. Your writing has improved rather than deteriorated. I love the personal touches. Tell me what did Bebbe wear at home; what did she wear when she went out. What were her hobbies. What did she think of Bhabiji's reciting prayers. Was she religious. Did she teach you about religion or God. Did she take bath every day or once in a while. Was she clean and tidy person or comfortable and not worrying about her looks. Did Bebbe and Babaji get along. What is snuff? Do sikhs snuff? Is that like paan or like cigarettes. Did Bebbe call herself Sikh or Hindu. Did she talk about your grandfather? What did she think about muslims? What did she think about lower caste people. Was she very caste conscious or not? Did she like Kumari bhua ji. Did she have her own room or a place in the house that was hers. Did she have a trunk or her own bed or an almari. I wish I could meet her in person. I wish we had a picture of her. Keep writing and adding to the story. Love you...Your Ambi.
Let me please do my Pythagoras theorem first which in the present case is ‘snuff’. It is the noun from the verb ‘sniff’. It comes in the form of powder made of some exotic elements in which tobacco is one of the chief active ingredient. A pinch of this powder is taken between the thumb and the fore finger, put near the opening of the nose and inhaled forcefully through each nostril by turn. This way it reaches the internal membrane of the brain and imparts a pleasant kick. Much before the cigarette was invented, the snuff was a rage among European nobility and the gentry. It was supposed to cure the common cold by clearing the clogged passage of the nose. Its use also became a form of snobbery to slap rank. French nobility and Napolean used it, so did English parliamentarians and their kings and queens. A historian says in gest, “It was not so much the dearth of gun powder but the want of snuff powder that caused Napolean to lose the battle of Waterloo” It became a fashion to carry snuff in ornamental containers made of silver and gold, though Bebbe kept it in an ordinary tin ‘dibya’. The custom appears to have been brought to India by the British. Gradually it spread to villages. In our village besides Bebbe and her elder sister-in-law, a few other old women also used it. I don’t remember to have seen any of the men using it. Nor anyone else in our family took to it. I vaguely remember to have seen Bhua Sarasti taking it. Weather she acquired the habit in our house or after marriage at her in-laws is not known. To my knowledge my ‘Nana’ and Bimla’s ‘Nani’ were also addicted to it. It turned user’s mucus to dark brown color and seemed to put her or him in a special class.
As for Bebbe’s dress, she wore only a long ‘dhoti’ or Sarri at home covering the upper half of her body with its ‘pallu’. She felt comfortable without ‘blouse’ or shirt. I don’t think she bathed daily, though Bhabiji did, but to me she appeared clean. As she carried me on her hip I used to slither through the folds of her sari to feel the touch of her bare skin rendered slippery with perspiration. Outside the home she wore ‘gaghra’ (Rajasthani style) with blouse and ‘dopatta’. Whenever she went to town or visited some marriage function she wore formal ‘Salwar and kameez’. Bebbe had rather dim view about Bhabiji’s culinary skills and as far as possible kept kitchen chores to herself. In spare time she worked on ‘charkha’ turning out fine balls of thread. Bhabiji and Kumari also acquired love of ‘charkha from Bebbe. For Bhabiji it was a love of labour for whole life. She kept working on it till her last breath. Bebbe could neither read nor write. Gurbaani was as distant to her as the vedic mantaras. For all practical purposes she was a pagan and believed in no formal religion. She believed only in forces of nature which she could see, touch and feel. In place of God she believed in ‘Mata Rani’ which literally means ‘Queen mother’ or ‘Mother Goddess’ who according to her controlled our destinies and welfare. On the southern periphery of our village there was a small monument dedicated to ‘Mata Rani’. Whenever any of us fell ill Bebbe would take us there to propitiate the Goddess. In fact the whole populace of the village was more Hindu in rituals and tradition than Sikh. For all social obligations there was a Brahmin priest. Even in the main Gurudwara idols of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses remained placed along with the Granth Sahib till 1924, the year of my birth. Then under the influence of Akali movement, these idols were transferred to the Hindu temple. But marriages and other social obligations continued being performed under the Vedic rites, till the Partition of the country. Bebbe went to the Hindu temple as much as to the Gurudwara and patronized both. All social festivals like Diwali, Baisakhi, Lohri, Rakhi etc. were celebrated but Ramnoumi and Krishan janam ashtmi Were replaced by Guru Nanak’s and Guru Gobind Singh’s birthdays which were celebrated with gusto. One peculiar feature of our celebrations was Guru Nanak’s Saraad ceremony which I did not see being observed anywhere else. Another unorthodox custom was the finishing of Gurudwara session with the Aarti (Gagan me thaal) in place of Anand Sahib. The Aarti was sung in great style, as in Hindu temples, led by three elders, one from each of the three streets, who held in circular rotation, the salver containing lighted earthen ‘divaas’ with floral offerings, joined by the whole congregation on their feet. Our south street was represented by Sardar Gopal Singh the elder brother of our Grandfather. Women mostly occupied the back seat and were not seen in the forefront of any organizing committee but they outnumbered men in so far as audience was concerned.
As for Bebbe’s dress, she wore only a long ‘dhoti’ or Sarri at home covering the upper half of her body with its ‘pallu’. She felt comfortable without ‘blouse’ or shirt. I don’t think she bathed daily, though Bhabiji did, but to me she appeared clean. As she carried me on her hip I used to slither through the folds of her sari to feel the touch of her bare skin rendered slippery with perspiration. Outside the home she wore ‘gaghra’ (Rajasthani style) with blouse and ‘dopatta’. Whenever she went to town or visited some marriage function she wore formal ‘Salwar and kameez’. Bebbe had rather dim view about Bhabiji’s culinary skills and as far as possible kept kitchen chores to herself. In spare time she worked on ‘charkha’ turning out fine balls of thread. Bhabiji and Kumari also acquired love of ‘charkha from Bebbe. For Bhabiji it was a love of labour for whole life. She kept working on it till her last breath. Bebbe could neither read nor write. Gurbaani was as distant to her as the vedic mantaras. For all practical purposes she was a pagan and believed in no formal religion. She believed only in forces of nature which she could see, touch and feel. In place of God she believed in ‘Mata Rani’ which literally means ‘Queen mother’ or ‘Mother Goddess’ who according to her controlled our destinies and welfare. On the southern periphery of our village there was a small monument dedicated to ‘Mata Rani’. Whenever any of us fell ill Bebbe would take us there to propitiate the Goddess. In fact the whole populace of the village was more Hindu in rituals and tradition than Sikh. For all social obligations there was a Brahmin priest. Even in the main Gurudwara idols of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses remained placed along with the Granth Sahib till 1924, the year of my birth. Then under the influence of Akali movement, these idols were transferred to the Hindu temple. But marriages and other social obligations continued being performed under the Vedic rites, till the Partition of the country. Bebbe went to the Hindu temple as much as to the Gurudwara and patronized both. All social festivals like Diwali, Baisakhi, Lohri, Rakhi etc. were celebrated but Ramnoumi and Krishan janam ashtmi Were replaced by Guru Nanak’s and Guru Gobind Singh’s birthdays which were celebrated with gusto. One peculiar feature of our celebrations was Guru Nanak’s Saraad ceremony which I did not see being observed anywhere else. Another unorthodox custom was the finishing of Gurudwara session with the Aarti (Gagan me thaal) in place of Anand Sahib. The Aarti was sung in great style, as in Hindu temples, led by three elders, one from each of the three streets, who held in circular rotation, the salver containing lighted earthen ‘divaas’ with floral offerings, joined by the whole congregation on their feet. Our south street was represented by Sardar Gopal Singh the elder brother of our Grandfather. Women mostly occupied the back seat and were not seen in the forefront of any organizing committee but they outnumbered men in so far as audience was concerned.
As for Bebbe’s dress, she wore only a long ‘dhoti’ or Sarri at home covering the upper half of her body with its ‘pallu’. She felt comfortable without ‘blouse’ or shirt. I don’t think she bathed daily, though Bhabiji did, but to me she appeared clean. As she carried me on her hip I used to slither through the folds of her sari to feel the touch of her bare skin rendered slippery with perspiration. Outside the home she wore ‘gaghra’ (Rajasthani style) with blouse and ‘dopatta’. Whenever she went to town or visited some marriage function she wore formal ‘Salwar and kameez’. Bebbe had rather dim view about Bhabiji’s culinary skills and as far as possible kept kitchen chores to herself. In spare time she worked on ‘charkha’ turning out fine balls of thread. Bhabiji and Kumari also acquired love of ‘charkha from Bebbe. For Bhabiji it was a love of labour for whole life. She kept working on it till her last breath. Bebbe could neither read nor write. Gurbaani was as distant to her as the vedic mantaras. For all practical purposes she was a pagan and believed in no formal religion. She believed only in forces of nature which she could see, touch and feel. In place of God she believed in ‘Mata Rani’ which literally means ‘Queen mother’ or ‘Mother Goddess’ who according to her controlled our destinies and welfare. On the southern periphery of our village there was a small monument dedicated to ‘Mata Rani’. Whenever any of us fell ill Bebbe would take us there to propitiate the Goddess. In fact the whole populace of the village was more Hindu in rituals and tradition than Sikh. For all social obligations there was a Brahmin priest. Even in the main Gurudwara idols of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses remained placed along with the Granth Sahib till 1924, the year of my birth. Then under the influence of Akali movement, these idols were transferred to the Hindu temple. But marriages and other social obligations continued being performed under the Vedic rites, till the Partition of the country. Bebbe went to the Hindu temple as much as to the Gurudwara and patronized both. All social festivals like Diwali, Baisakhi, Lohri, Rakhi etc. were celebrated but Ramnoumi and Krishan janam ashtmi Were replaced by Guru Nanak’s and Guru Gobind Singh’s birthdays which were celebrated with gusto. One peculiar feature of our celebrations was Guru Nanak’s Saraad ceremony which I did not see being observed anywhere else. Another unorthodox custom was the finishing of Gurudwara session with the Aarti (Gagan me thaal) in place of Anand Sahib. The Aarti was sung in great style, as in Hindu temples, led by three elders, one from each of the three streets, who held in circular rotation, the salver containing lighted earthen ‘divaas’ with floral offerings, joined by the whole congregation on their feet. Our south street was represented by Sardar Gopal Singh the elder brother of our Grandfather. Women mostly occupied the back seat and were not seen in the forefront of any organizing committee but they outnumbered men in so far as audience was concerned.
As for Bebbe’s dress, she wore only a long ‘dhoti’ or Sarri at home covering the upper half of her body with its ‘pallu’. She felt comfortable without ‘blouse’ or shirt. I don’t think she bathed daily, though Bhabiji did, but to me she appeared clean. As she carried me on her hip I used to slither through the folds of her sari to feel the touch of her bare skin rendered slippery with perspiration. Outside the home she wore ‘gaghra’ (Rajasthani style) with blouse and ‘dopatta’. Whenever she went to town or visited some marriage function she wore formal ‘Salwar and kameez’. Bebbe had rather dim view about Bhabiji’s culinary skills and as far as possible kept kitchen chores to herself. In spare time she worked on ‘charkha’ turning out fine balls of thread. Bhabiji and Kumari also acquired love of ‘charkha from Bebbe. For Bhabiji it was a love of labour for whole life. She kept working on it till her last breath. Bebbe could neither read nor write. Gurbaani was as distant to her as the vedic mantaras. For all practical purposes she was a pagan and believed in no formal religion. She believed only in forces of nature which she could see, touch and feel. In place of God she believed in ‘Mata Rani’ which literally means ‘Queen mother’ or ‘Mother Goddess’ who according to her controlled our destinies and welfare. On the southern periphery of our village there was a small monument dedicated to ‘Mata Rani’. Whenever any of us fell ill Bebbe would take us there to propitiate the Goddess. In fact the whole populace of the village was more Hindu in rituals and tradition than Sikh. For all social obligations there was a Brahmin priest. Even in the main Gurudwara idols of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses remained placed along with the Granth Sahib till 1924, the year of my birth. Then under the influence of Akali movement, these idols were transferred to the Hindu temple. But marriages and other social obligations continued being performed under the Vedic rites, till the Partition of the country. Bebbe went to the Hindu temple as much as to the Gurudwara and patronized both. All social festivals like Diwali, Baisakhi, Lohri, Rakhi etc. were celebrated but Ramnoumi and Krishan janam ashtmi Were replaced by Guru Nanak’s and Guru Gobind Singh’s birthdays which were celebrated with gusto. One peculiar feature of our celebrations was Guru Nanak’s Saraad ceremony which I did not see being observed anywhere else. Another unorthodox custom was the finishing of Gurudwara session with the Aarti (Gagan me thaal) in place of Anand Sahib. The Aarti was sung in great style, as in Hindu temples, led by three elders, one from each of the three streets, who held in circular rotation, the salver containing lighted earthen ‘divaas’ with floral offerings, joined by the whole congregation on their feet. Our south street was represented by Sardar Gopal Singh the elder brother of our Grandfather. Women mostly occupied the back seat and were not seen in the forefront of any organizing committee but they outnumbered men in so far as audience was concerned.
As for Bebbe’s dress, she wore only a long ‘dhoti’ or Sarri at home covering the upper half of her body with its ‘pallu’. She felt comfortable without ‘blouse’ or shirt. I don’t think she bathed daily, though Bhabiji did, but to me she appeared clean. As she carried me on her hip I used to slither through the folds of her sari to feel the touch of her bare skin rendered slippery with perspiration. Outside the home she wore ‘gaghra’ (Rajasthani style) with blouse and ‘dopatta’. Whenever she went to town or visited some marriage function she wore formal ‘Salwar and kameez’. Bebbe had rather dim view about Bhabiji’s culinary skills and as far as possible kept kitchen chores to herself. In spare time she worked on ‘charkha’ turning out fine balls of thread. Bhabiji and Kumari also acquired love of ‘charkha from Bebbe. For Bhabiji it was a love of labour for whole life. She kept working on it till her last breath. Bebbe could neither read nor write. Gurbaani was as distant to her as the vedic mantaras. For all practical purposes she was a pagan and believed in no formal religion. She believed only in forces of nature which she could see, touch and feel. In place of God she believed in ‘Mata Rani’ which literally means ‘Queen mother’ or ‘Mother Goddess’ who according to her controlled our destinies and welfare. On the southern periphery of our village there was a small monument dedicated to ‘Mata Rani’. Whenever any of us fell ill Bebbe would take us there to propitiate the Goddess.
In fact the whole populace of the village was more Hindu in rituals and tradition than Sikh. For all social obligations there was a Brahmin priest. Even in the main Gurudwara idols of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses remained placed along with the Granth Sahib till 1924, the year of my birth. Then under the influence of Akali movement, these idols were transferred to the Hindu temple. But marriages and other social obligations continued being performed under the Vedic rites, till the Partition of the country. Bebbe went to the Hindu temple as much as to the Gurudwara and patronized both. All social festivals like Diwali, Baisakhi, Lohri, Rakhi etc. were celebrated but Ramnoumi and Krishan janam ashtmi Were replaced by Guru Nanak’s and Guru Gobind Singh’s birthdays which were celebrated with gusto. One peculiar feature of our celebrations was Guru Nanak’s Saraad ceremony which I did not see being observed anywhere else.
Another unorthodox custom was the finishing of Gurudwara session with the Aarti (Gagan me thaal) in place of Anand Sahib. The Aarti was sung in great style, as in Hindu temples, led by three elders, one from each of the three streets, who held in circular rotation, the salver containing lighted earthen ‘divaas’ with floral offerings, joined by the whole congregation on their feet. Our south street was represented by Sardar Gopal Singh the elder brother of our Grandfather. Women mostly occupied the back seat and were not seen in the forefront of any organizing committee but they outnumbered men in so far as audience was concerned. Bebbe did not have a room to herself, nor an exclusive almirah, nor any one else did have such facility. The family clothes and other personal articles were kept and arranged by bhabiji and Kumari in available recesses and supplied when required. I think Bebbe at least knew where her things were kept. Bebbe loved all of us but she loved and cared for her own son the most. Babaji in turn showed great respect for her mother and was never seen to have shouted at her. As a matter of fact she possessed such strong will and character that no one dared cross the limit with her except one whom she neither forgot nor forgave till her death. Her relations with Bhabiji and Kumari were neither very warm nor very cold. Though with Kumari they warmed up after her marriage and in last few months of her life Bebbe and bhabiji got very close to each other. Hope I have covered all your points. Some of the questions relating to muslims and lower castes I have dealt with in detail in my writings on Babaji or elsewhere. In next instalment I shall cover matters relating to Bharaji’s and Kumari’s marriages and my corresponding years in school.
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BEBBE- A BEDI GRANDMOTHER
BY B.S.BEDI
Bebbe in our dialect means mother. She was mother of my father. She was our grandmother but we also called her Bebbe. So for us Bebbe was grandmother.
I owe the gift of long life to my Bebbe. She gave this gift to my brothers and sisters too who survived her strange culling technique. It was her prerogative to give gurhti to the new-born babies. Gurhti is a social custom of giving the first food to the child. She chewed some fennel seeds, cardamom, cinnamon, raisins and few other exotic items into a pulp and then gave that liquid to the new-born child. This concoction possibly contained bacteria of almost all the diseases of the world. If one survived that lethal dose one got immunized to at least half the childhood diseases. This benefited me in many ways. I hardly ever felt ill as a child. Till the age of twelve I did not know what headache was though I often heard the word from others. So if I hurt my knee I would cry bebbe I have a headache in my knee.
Bebbe was a great doctor besides. She did not go to school but learned her trade through life’s experience. She lost one of her children due to drowning in the village pond. From that day the water became enemy number one. She lost her husband in a plague epidemic. Plague at that time was considered to spread through air. So air became enemy number two. She had seen some children dying of sun stroke. So the sun became enemy number three. When any of us fell ill she did her best to save us from these three enemies. She would draw all the curtains to keep off sunlight and air. She also restricted supply of water to patients to the minimum.
I vividly remember one such occasion when I had a fever. Bebbe stayed by my side constantly and kept me warm. I wanted to be cool but she denied me air. I cried out but to no avail. I was also thirsty and wanted the cool lassi (buttermilk) from the kitchen. She considered lassi, in fever, as poison. She gave me a spoon of water and would not leave my side even for a moment. I thought that was going to be the end of me. I closed my eyes and pretended of sleep to put her off guard. It was then that she felt need to go to the bathroom. She asked my father to guard me in her absence. The bathroom was upstairs and I knew she would be away for a while. Father was busy in his accounts and did not pay much attention to me. I found the chance I was waiting for. I rushed to the kitchen, took a glassful of lassi and was at the second helping when Bebbe heard the noise. She immediately rushed below. Seeing me bent over the lassi pot she almost fainted. She was sure I would die and lamented repeating that. But I instinctively knew that I had saved myself.
Bebbe was married to my grandfather when she was only five and he was eight years old. Child marriages were the norm at that time but this one was rather earlier than the ordinary norm due to a fortuitous circumstance. The year before her parents had died in plague epidemic, leaving her orphaned. She also had an elder brother and a sister and a younger brother. They lived in a town called Sheikhupura, twelve miles from our village Santpura (both now in Pakistan). My grand-father’s cousin brother - Baba Harnaam Singh - was guru (spirtual adviser) to Bebbe’s family. He took upon himself to settle the two orphan sisters. The elder one was given in marriage to a known family in an adjoining village - Karhial. He brought the younger one along with him to become our Bebbe. The boys (Bebbe’s brothers) were left in the care of relatives.
Bebbe was brought up in her parents-in-law’s house like a daughter rather than a daughter-in-law. Later in life she would tell us that she had no memory of her own home and parents. Her husband’s home was the only home and his parents the only parents she knew and loved. She freely played with other daughters of the house as their sister and friend. Ours being a joint family there were a good number of siblings to give company to each other.
My grandfather had two elder brothers, both married, and two sisters, also married, but awaiting departure to in-laws. My grandfather being the youngest was darling of the whole family. With the coming of Bebbe, she became the youngest and the new darling of the family. The sisters-in-law envied her as the only permanent daughter who would remain back. The wives of other brothers also envied her as the most favorite daughter-in-law.
We are Bedis, descendents of Guru Nanak - founder of the Sikh Faith. As we grew in numbers at Dera Baba Nanak, the constraints of space obliged some families to move out. During the times of Guru Gobind Singh, one of our ancestors Baba Nand Roop, accompanied by his family and some udasi sadhus - followers of Baba Sri Chand (Guru Nanak’s elder son) - came and setteled in an open space between Sheikhupura and Gujaranwala - two historic towns about forty miles from Dera baba Nanak and thirty miles apart from each other. He settled there on the invitation of local zamindaars who gifted him the adjoining tracts of land in token of their love for the Guru’s children. Due to presence of Udasi sadhus with him the settlement came to be known as Santpura (abode of sadhus). Close to half a century they remained well-knit into a joint family. During the course of next few generations Baba Nand Roop’s progeny grew and extended into three main streets called the East, North and south streets. The West side was left for Shopping center. The three residential streets were founded by his three prominent grandsons – Baba Malroop, Baba Lajyadhari and Baba Ichhyadhari. Each of them had a large following of sikh disciples. Baba Kaladhari, whose grandson Baba Sahib singh Bedi played a prominent part in helping Ranjeet Singh to found the sikh empire, was their cousin brother, though not based in their village. Dr. Gopal Singh in his magnum opus ‘A history of the sikh people’ has this to say about Baba Sahib Singh Bedi.
“Baba Sahib Singh Bedi, grandson of Baba Kaladhari and son of Baba Ajit Singh, claiming a direct descent from Guru Nanak was a formidable spiritual leader of these days, highly venerated by all sections of the sikh society. Besides being a well-known preacher of his faith, he was also a great warrior and conquered
considerable territory with his headquarters at Una (in the distt of Hoshiarpur). We shall come across his name later in these pages many times as a wise counsel, conciliator, fighter and a source of great spiritual comfort at the time of stress and crisis”
“ The sikh forces under Ranjit Singh(for the defence of Amritsar) were about ten thousand horse. Baba Sahib Singh Bedi also joined with his 4000 horse …
Dismayed the Afgan king, Shah Zaman, made another attempt to conciliate them and sent an agent to Amritsar for talks. But, the sikh spokesman, Baba Sahib Singh Bedi, refused to listen to him, saying
“We have taken the country of our forefathers through suffering and sacrifice and mean to keep it free, under our charge, whatever the cost”.
Later he stood by Ranjit singh in his battle for paramountcy in Punjab politics.
My father’s great grandfather, Sardar Sahib Singh, was the first generation Singh of the Khalsa created by Guru Gobind Singh. He was a contemporary of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. Ranjit Singh’s official stamp bore the adopted insignia, “Deg o teg o fateh o nusrat bedarang - Yaft uz Nanak Guru Gobind Singh”, which means, I have won empire, victory and glory through the grace of Guru Nanak and Gobind Singh. This shows how deeply he felt indebted to the Gurus and their progeny. On coming to throne he granted a big jagir (gift of land)to Nankana Sahib, the birth place of Guru Nanak. Then he sought the Bedi settlements and bestowed jagirs to each of them. Four villages in jagir came to our village Santpura. The officials of Ranjit Singh informed him that Bedis of Santpura were close relations of Baba Saheb Singh Bedi, his old ally. Maharaja Ranjit Singh was so pleased to hear it that he increased our grant to twelve villages. This meant that the revenue collected from those villages was payable to our village. This grant made our village very famous and prosperous. With the grant of jagir to Nankana Sahib, the overall management of that shrine was also entrusted to us, the Bedis of Santpura. The udasi sadhus settled in our village were persuaded to go to Nanakana Sahib with their leader, called Mahant (title) as the head of the shrine. Subsequently also the new Mahants were selected with the approval of our village elders till Shromani Gurdwara Parbhandak Committee took over their management after gurdwara movement of 1930.The revenue from the twelve villages was sufficient to support more families so some Vedi families, descendents of Guru Nanak’s uncle (chacha), Lalu Rai, were given refuge to come and settle in our village. Earlier they had no place of their own and led a nomadic life hunting deers, rabbits and partridges. They came to our village with their hunting dogs. Our village provided them with suitable plots of land and gradually they took to farming. At the same time they taught hunting to one or two Bedi families also, though it was not liked by the rest of the village. Soon after annexing the Punjab the English administrators made to us a one time payment equal to four years’ revenue and forfeited our jagirs.
At the end of our South street, there lived a Brahmin family who had built a temple within their house and had been looking to the religious needs of the people. They also performed ceremonies relating to marriages, births, funerals etc. even when the village folk converted to khalsa panth . For quite some time, the Brahmins remained doing these tasks as there were no equivalent Sikh clergy to look after those needs. There was a Gurudwara in our village which was managed by local families as a group. To look after its daily needs a family man called a bhai was employed who was more of a chowkidar than a priest. He was not educated and could not read the Granth Sahib.
The Brahmin family had a daughter of the same age as Bebbe. Quite early in life, during visits to the temple along with other women, Bebbe came into close contact with this girl, Bhagwan Devi -nick-named Bhagwano- and both became friends. At the age of seven or eight Bhagwano was married and a year later she became a widow. She came back to live, for the rest of her life, with her father who was himself a widower. In this lonely period she became even closer to Bebbe. Bebbe’s sisters-in-law (husband’s sisters) had also left for their in-law homes and she herself was lonely too. Both started spending lot of time together. Bhagwano’s father started training her as a priestess and the stories from the Hindu Mythology that he told her were listened to by Bebbe as well. Later in life when we were born Bebbe used to relate these stories to us. Chief among them was the marriage of Shiva and Parvati. It contained all the juicy details about Shiva’s bizarre appearance as a bridegroom with a snake around his neck, a dugdugi in hand, ashes smeared on head and riding a bull. The diverse marriage party included Rahu and Katu. The twin devils gulped away all the food that Parvati’s father King had got prepared for ‘baratis’and asked for more! Hearing these stories we felt transported to ‘Satyug’.
When Bebbe and Bhagwano were about twelve years each they carried out a plan which shook the whole village. Guru Nanak’s birth anniversary was celebrated by our village, outside our gurudwara, at a very large scale, as apart from our village, people from all the villages within a radius of twelve miles used to attend the three day long fun and religious discourses. A big fair with diverse shops and stalls of handicrafts was held at the same time. For the first time that year a photographer set up his stall and became a big hit. Many men, including men from our family, got their photos taken which people watched with awe and fascination. The women were not allowed or inclined to get their pictures taken as they observed purdah in the form of ghungat (covering the face with chunni). Even girls were not allowed as they were not to show their face to prospective in-laws. Bebbe and her friend Bhagwano cooked up a scheme to have their photos snapped together. They tied up their hair and wore turbans like all the other boys in the village. Then they dressed up in boys’ clothes and got their photos taken. They were quite sure that no one will be any the wiser about it. But as is the custom with photographers to display the pictures they have taken, their photos also got displayed. It did not take much time for village people to discover that the two rustic urchins in the pictures were in fact Bebbe and Bhagwano. The news spread like wild fire and was the chief topic of gossip among women. For the first time Bebbe felt vulnerable because her husband, our grandfather, also complained to his father about it. He said that he was greatly embarrassed as his friends teased him that he was married to a boy. He complained that this has happened due to the great freedom given to her by his parents. Bebbe even did not observe the customary gunghat, which all married girls were subjected to. To satisfy their son Bebbe’s parents-in-law suitably instructed her to be careful in future and observe gunghat like other daughters-in-law. Bebbe sought exemption from gunghat at least from men in her own house which was graciously granted by her father-in-law. Bebbe’s friend was in greater trouble because such an act was considered unbecoming of a priest’s daughter and a widow at that. Bebbe interceded on her behalf taking all the blame on herself. The traumatized Brahmin was mollified for the moment and his daughter escaped general ostracism.
In those times there were no schools for girls. Though they got no formal education, there was ample scope to learn cooking, knitting, sewing etc. from their mothers and other elderly women folk. For entertainment there were spinning-wheel sessions organized in groups. Otherwise they got little freedom of movement and play for security reasons. This was the general practice in most villages. But our village was an island of liberty in this respect. Thus so, perhaps, as it was like an extended joint family - each person being a brother, uncle or grand-uncle - that imparted a sense of comfort and security. Thus on moon-lit nights, while boys played their games at the outskirts of the village, the girls played hide and seek, danced and sang at open spaces in the streets.
Bebbe spent her childhood in such congenial atmosphere that she never knew how and when it ended and womanhood took over. Perhaps it didn’t end completely but gradually, little by little, yielding place to the other. So even though she was now sixteen and a few months pregnant, the child and the woman in her overlapped and struggled for existence.
Paradoxes abound in nature. They impart variety to the course of life. One such paradox existed in our village. A little way up we have seen how glorious was the life of the girls in our village. It was true for all girls who walked on twos. Those who walked on all fours were in dire risk of infanticide. This evil practice was rampant in those days. In fact it is still widespread in Punjab. In our village it was fuelled by a secret group of women known as KKK. The triple “K” did not mean the well-known “Ku Klux Klan” even though it worked on the same lines as the latter did. Only in our language it stood for (Kurhiyon Ke Katil) ‘killers of the girls’. Its head-
Quarter was at the confluence of three residential streets where stood a structure consisting of a big courtyard followed by a big hall known as ‘inner’ gurudwara. Although a copy of Granth Sahib was kept in a small enclosure for those who might like to read, it was gurudwara only in name as all religious rites and functions were performed in the main gurudwara referred to earlier and this place functioned as community centre for the gatherings of women during the day. The KKK clique worked clandestinely among such gatherings. Its targets were expecting mothers and presently Bebbe was their unsuspecting target. She could not help escape whispers, made within her hearing, how such and such had killed her infant girl, followed by a concluding remark in sympathy,”How else would the poor girl have escaped the stigma of very first child being a girl? Then pointing a finger at Bebbe one woman would say,”God forbid if this poor girl has a girl as the first child. What other course is left to her to maintain her place in the family”.At first Bebbe felt aghast. She protested it was not the custom in her family. Both of her sisters-in-law had living daughters. “Yes” retorted the evil women, “Because their first born were boys and they could afford to have daughters later. You also pray your first born happen to be a boy”. So Bebbe prayed day and night for her coming child to be a boy. To her dismay it turned up a girl. There was much excitement in the house before she was born. After her birth a strange kind of silence took over. The boys were regarded as great gifts of God, calling for, thanks to the Lord, congratulations to one and all and much merriment. Girls were merely to fill in the blanks. Expression of any kind of joy on their birth was a taboo - a wrong signal - likely to be mistaken, god forbid, as a want for more of the same. The greatest blessing for a woman was, “May you bathe in milk and beget many sons” and the vilest curse - “May you wash the faces of seven daughters”- This custom was perhaps a remnant of early Aryans’ preference for males to wage wars of aggression.
Bebbe was confined to bed. Custom required
her to lie there with the child for thirteen days. Thereafter both mother and child would be purified, with suitable rites prescribed by the priests, and rid
of the pollution associated with the process of birth - An echo of the ‘original sin’. Only, we called it ‘Sootak’.That is how different religions pick up rampant ideas of each other and weave them into their own customs. During this enforced isolation Bebbe keenly watched the reactions of her family members. Her mother-in-law and sisters-in-law were kind and considerate. They looked after all her needs well. Now and then they also took up her child into their arms and lovingly fondled her. This gave her much comfort. On the other hand, behavior of out-house women seemed reminiscent more of condolence than congratulation. At the end of day it is the response of her husband that will mean most to her.
That day arrived at last. After ablutions and some related ceremonies, the mother and child were let into the living room. Bebbe touched the feet of her father-in-law and mother-in-law. They blessed her and her child. Then she touched the feet of her
Brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law and they too blessed her and her baby. Her husband was conspicuous by his absence. Early that morning he had yoked his oxen and gone to plough his fields. Since the birth of their child there was no commun ication between the couple. This was normal in those days and Bebbe knew about this custom. But what Bebbe didn’t know was that any interest shown by the (novice) husband in his first-born was considered an impolite act. Bebbe’s husband knew about it and was too shy to break this tradition. Bebbe didn’t and this comedy of error was headed to end into a tragedy.
Bebbe as we have seen was impulsive by nature. She wanted to know promptly her husband’s reaction towards their child. There was no possibility
of approaching him during the night. So she decided to confront him early in the morning before he left for his fields. She hardly slept during the night. Early in the morning her mother-in-law got up to churn the curd to make butter and whey (lassi).When lassi was ready she awakened her son and served him a large measure of drink with a chunk of butter floating on top. Bebbe was watching the scene from her bed. She waited for her mother-in-law to leave for some other work so she could rush to her husband when he was alone. But her mother-in law kept sitting, fondly watching her son gobbling butter and drinking lassi. Bebbe panicked that her husband might soon leave putting her plan in jeopardy. Throwing discretion to the wind, she got up with the child in her arms and thrust it at her husband as he rose to leave. He was totally taken aback. Being greatly amused by the situation his mother could hardly suppress her mirth. This embarrassed him all the more. Without looking at the child he waived it away like Vishwamitter of mythology and hastened away. Bebbe was consoled by her mother-in-law. “He would soon get to like his daughter” she said. But the damage was done. The one person whose assurance she so assiduously sought had spurned her child like it did not belong to him! From that time onward the sword of Damocles started hanging on the head of hapless girl child.
Every evening, at the onset of little darkness, women of our street would gather in a group and head towards an ancient mound on the outskirts of village to answer the call of nature. This place was used as an open latrine by the ladies. It was dotted with many bushes which provided needed cover. The place was out of bounds for men who eased in their respective fields. Through successive habit this schedule had got so impressed that normally they would not feel such urge at any other time of the day or night. But emergencies are out of the orbit of normal routine. Force-fed on rich food, one such emergency came upon Bebbe, at noon time. The village folk had provided for such emergencies also. A short distance from the end of south street there was a secluded spot, flanked by the pond in the south and back walls of cow-sheds in the north. The East side had eroded into the pond closing that side and effectively preventing the place being used as a thoroughfare. There was a narrow entry from the west and any woman in need could safely use the space. For a desired cover, a plant (called uk in Punjabi) grew there in abundance. If its leaf or a twig is snapped it oozes thick creamy liquid saturated with alkaloid, a highly potent poison. It is therefore shunned by the cattle and grows unrestrained.
It was in these surroundings that fate brought Bebbe
and her child to do its bidding. A small girl also accompanied her to carry a pail of water. After original need was over, Bebbe washed her hands and stood beside one of the plants. She had heard about its properties but didn’t have a quaint idea about its effects. Involuntarily she broke a twig and let some oozing drops fall on her tongue. She felt a burning sensation and expectorated the milky liquid. Then she tried the same experiment on her child and when she winced she tried to extract the foreign matter from her mouth. But the child swallowed it and started crying loudly. Greatly panicked she ran towards her house. On the way she felt child’s convulsions. Reaching home she handed over the child to her mother-in-law and started weeping. In between the sobs she told her the whole story. Hearing mother and child crying, some women from neighborhood came running. Meanwhile convulsions stopped but the child seemed to be going into coma. The women tried to revive her but all in vain. Gradually she ceased breathing and was no more. Completely baffled, the women started making searching inquiries. Given to herself, Bebbe’s mother-in-law would have tried to keep the matter under wraps. But the girl who had accompanied Bebbe blurted out the truth. In no time the news spread like fire. Bebbe locked herself in the same room, where she had given birth to her daughter, and would not open the door.
Bebbe’s husband, after working in his fields, was half way to his house, when a shepherd from the village gave him the news. He was stunned. On the outskirts of the village, on his way, there was a small pucca shrine called ‘Mata-raani’ (queen mother) consisting of a room and an open courtyard, flanked by pucca walls, in front. In earlier times, an idol of mother goddess was placed in the room. Later on, when roaming ascetics needed the room for a night rest, the idol was placed, under a beri tree in the courtyard. With ravages of time the idol gave way but an enterprising woman placed a stone slab in its place, under the tree. Bebbe used to take us there, to propitiate the goddess, whenever our fever extended the normal limit. She will put a pinch of ‘sandhoor’ over the thick layer of sandhoor already there and make us bow before it. It was believed that she controlled all the diseases. In fat the most dreaded disease – small pox – was named after it and called ‘mata’. It was here that Bebbe’s
husband sought temporary refuge. When his parents
were informed of it, they rushed to the shrine. On confirmation of the news, he put off his turban and started putting ashes, left by some sadhus, on his head. Now they had two problems on hand – one at home and one here. Meanwhile other members of the family arrived and somehow took him to home.
Bebbe was also persuaded to open the door. As soon as she came out, her husband rushed to strike her but was restrained by the relatives. Bebbe’s sister-in-law, who lived at family’s old house, took her there to provide temporary protection. At night Bebbe’s parents-in-law came to console her but she kept on sobbing and refused to touch any food. Traumatised by the turn of events, they sent for their married daughters, who were great friends of Bebbe, from their in-laws at Lahore. On their arrival, after three days, Bebbe was persuaded with great difficulty, to take some food. Bebbe’s sisters-in-law also tried to bring the couple, face to face, but none of them was yet ready for that closeness. During their stay, the sisters were approached by the local school master’s wife, to take her message to her parents in Lahore. It appeared she had some serious complaints against her husband and solicited their help. After the departure of her sisters-in-law, Bebbe again plunged into depression. She didn’t know how long it was to last. But providence intervened in a devious way. Her brother-in-law (Gopal singh) eloped with the school master’s wife. This shifted the focus from bebbe to the new emergency, that demanded single-minded attention of the united family. Bebbe even did not notice, when and how, she got mingled with the rest of the family including her husband.
Here we seem to need a short introduction to bebbe’s large family. Bebbe’s father-in-law, sardar Amar singh was a prominent resident of the village and headman of the south street.He possessed a streak of character that makes men legends in their lifetime. By profession he was a money lender, other-wise considered a base occupation, but he lent a human face to it. Throughout his life he never forfeited a residential house or a field, pledged to him as security for the loan. Thus he provided for an essential service that now is rendered by the banks. Famines were a common sight in those days. To provide needed relief in such eventualities, he used to fill up a big godown with grains of wheat, in early season, and release suitable quantities in scarce times, on promise of return in kind by the beneficiaries, at the next season, with some suitable addition. Thus with one time payment, he secured the perpetual supply of grain, together with blessings of the poor. His sense of justice we will learn about a short time later. He had three sons and two daughters. Both the daughters were married into hindu (khatri) families of Lahore. His eldest son was Nihal singh whose chief passion, unlike his father, was land. Whenever he saw a particular piece of land on sale he will buy it. Later on when bebbe managed her father-in-law’s funds, she freely gave him money for this venture. But for him our family wouldn’t have got that much land. The youngest was our grandfather Sunder Singh, the darling of his father, who loved to till his lands and produced the yearly grain for the entire family. The middle and the most colorful son was Gopal Singh. Gopal (protector of cows) is one of the names of Lord Krishna. True to his name-sake, Gopal singh grew into a tall and handsome play-boy of the family, exceedingly given to sports and
specializing in long jump. He was credited with a jump of 24 feet which almost equals the Olympic record. Allowing for a possible exaggeration, he could have easily cleared a distance of 22 feet, as the following true story vouchsafes. In those days gypsy groups used to roam villages, entertaining people with extraordinary feats of sports and rope walking. One such group that came to our village had among them a much reputed long jumper, who threw a challenge to one and all, to compete with him. With a view to eliminate all non serious players, he placed a sharp steel blade fixed on a wooden frame at a distance of 18 feet from the starting line. Anyone who could not clear a distance of 20 feet would run the risk of getting a nasty cut. Our grandfather Gopal singh picked up the instrument and replaced it at a distance of 20 feet, daring the gypsy player to jump over it. He balked saying nobody could jump over that distance. On this Gopal singh ran the course and jumped over the blade, clearing it by a distance of almost two feet . The gypsy was so crest-fallen that he did not even attempt a jump and conceded defeat. The village lads carried their hero on their shoulders, around the village, with beat of drums.
To take the story further, we need to know more about the schoolmaster and his wife, to whom we have made a passing reference before. In our village there was a govt. primary school for which teachers were sent by the Punjab Education department at Lahore. In the times under reference, a middle aged teacher joined duty in the school. He came with a girl of about 18 years whom people took to be his daughter. They were shocked to learn later that she
was his wife. Every strange thing has a story behind it. This one too had one that came in bits. The girl was from a poor family of Lahore. The man was a teacher in a local school. His wife died four years ago, leaving behind a boy and a girl of 14 and 10 years respectively. The teacher approached the family with a proposal. He asked for their 14 year old daughter’s hand for a consideration of one thousand rupees. The girl’s family had never seen that amount in their life. They agreed even with the condition that the girl will never come back to their house and they too will not come to see her more than twice a year. All went well for two years. The girl was quite comfortable and played with his children. In between her people also would come and see her. But the teacher started feeling a little uncomfortable. He was embarrassed to see that all three appeared to be his children. He got his son admitted in a boarding house and sent the daughter to her uncle. He thought the things would now get squared. But they got worse. His wife started going
to her parents house, against his direction, and more often than he could ignore. After great deliberation,
he contrived to secure his transfer to our village school. At the corner of a by-lane, connecting the south street with the southern end of the bazaar, was a first floor two room house, that remained reserved for the teachers. He came and settled here with his wife. In the beginning some women came to her, when her husband was away, and she also visited them. Women and girls wanted to know more and more about her and her background. Each juicy tale got spread by word of mouth. Some indiscreet inquiry somewhere put the teacher on his guard. He was already suspicious by nature. He surmised that his child wife was spattering the beans. He started putting restrictions on her movements. When this did not improve matters, he started locking her up in the room, while going to school. But he had no antidote to her accompanying the village women in the evening, for a trip to the mound, to answer the call of nature. This was one unchangeable tradition
of the village to which there was no alternative. The chief topic of discussion in these assemblies was either Gopal singhs feats or recent entry of school master’s wife. It was in these gatherings that she first met Gopal singh’s sisters from Lahore and sought their help. Perhaps she thought to seek help from Gopal singh directly as he was everybody’s hero. How they met and planned their moves is not known. One evening, on return trip, one girl was found missing. It was schoolmaster’s wife. When all efforts failed to locate her, teams of men and boys were sent to the adjoining fields and wastelands. But there was no trace of her. Late at night it was discovered that Gopal singh was also missing. People put two and two together and came to the obvious conclusion. The school teacher wasted little time in reaching the murid-ke police station (about 8 miles away)to lodge the F.I.R.(first information report). The station house officer decided to visit the spot. By noon inquiry started in the village. The officer wanted two witnesses to support schoolmaster’s version of the incident. None came forward from the village to support him. This caused a stalemate. It was true that Gopal singh was missing. But he might have had some legitimate excuse to be away. Police could not take the risk of charging him without any witnesses. The school master’s junior advised him to approach Gopal Singh’s father, which he did. Our great grand father, Sardar Amar Singh, made inquiries about Gopal singh’s whereabouts. Nobody knew anything about him. On being convinced of his involvement in the case the father offered to be a
witness agains
his own son. The F.I.R was duly filed and police teams were dispatched in pursuit of the two. The twosome walked throughout night and reached Sheikhupura (a distance of 13 miles) after midnight. They passed the rest of night and next day sleeping
in the main gurudwara. Their destination was Lahore, but before leaving, Gopal Singh wanted to see bebbe’s brother at sheikhupara to pass a message through him to his family. He reached there
at night and was informed that a policeman was there an hour ago looking for him. He hastened back to the Gurudwara. A major part of the night passed discussing whether they should at all go to one of the sisters of Gopal Singh as they had originally planned. The police seemed to be at their heels. They must have obtained addresses of all his relatives. All of them might be under watch. If they are picked up from the house of his sister, it will be big embarrassment for him. So they decided to go direct to girl’s parents. Early next morning they set out on train and reached Lahore. They had hardly reached the girl’s parents house that they were picked up by the waiting police. The girl’s parents refused to accept their daughter and let the police take both of them.
The police made a tight case against Gopal Singh. It charged him with kidnapping a minor girl. The crime was non-bailable and none was allowed. The lower court found him guilty and sentenced him to three years imprisonment. Gopal Singh’s brothers took the case to the high court and engaged a reputed lawyer
He submitted to the court that it was one of the strangest cases in which the chief witness against the accused was his own father. It is very unnatural yet it has not been investigated nor explained why a father is giving evidence against his son. He also proved from girl’s school certificate that she was major. It was on record that the girl was mistreated by her husband and had sent a message to her parents in this regard through Gopal Singh’s sisters. On getting no response, she had persuaded Gopal Singh to take her to her parents. The fact that they had been picked up by the police at the house of girl’s parents was the clinching proof of the statement. The high court accepted these submissions and set Gopal Singh free. The school master never came to our village again. Bawa Amar Singh forgave his son and joined in the festivities. He never refused anything to bebbe and she played a major role to mellow him.
After tumultuous events that took about a year to settle, the life was again on an even keel. One day Bebbe saw her husband take his brother’s daughter in his arms and hug her fervently. Overcome with emotion she promised herself to place his own daughter in his arms one day. That day took its own time to arrive. She was again in the family way and on course to redeem her pledge. She ardently prayed for her child to be a girl but it was a chubby boy. There was great rejoicing in the family. The boy’s grandfather got two bags of wheat, boiled in big utensils, to make into ‘ghunganias’, a measure of which, topped with a cake of candy (gurh), was sent to each house-hold, including the aadi vaasi’s cluster. Bebbe was slightly put out by the postponement of her pledge, but was soon overwhelmed with all-round congratulations. In due course the child was named Guman singh and for short was called ‘gaanha’. For once his father also, shedding his initial inhibition, often took him into his arms and kissed him. Bebbe almost forgot her past miserable days following the self-inflicted loss. But something at the back of her mind troubled her that all this too good, too soon, may not be all that true. Her misgivings were slowly taking a physical shape in a canvas of the future. ‘Gaanha’ was now about four years of age. So far his mother had never got him out of her sight. This day his friends approached him to play with them In the street. Reluctantly she allowed him to go with a strict warning not to go beyond the street. But children had something more exciting in their mind. A big tree on the bank of village pond had given way in the night storm and fallen with its long thick branches into the water. From its end on the dry land, the children got on it to the farthest branch, where it gave them the maximum spring, up and down. ‘Gaanha’ along-with his friends was enjoying this heady ride when his hold on the branch loosened and he fell down in the water. The water there was not very deep but was enough to drown a small child. The other children, greatly frightened, ran away to their houses, without raising an alarm. Bebbe after some time came out in the street to look after her son. He was nowhere to be found. She went to his friends’ houses but no one admitted to have seen him recently. She panicked and put some men and women to search him out. Further inquiries from his friends revealed that he was playing with them on the fallen tree. A quick search in the water under the tree brought out his lifeless body. Bebbe was stunned and so were the other family members. She instinctively gathered what was troubling her all along. ‘Mata Rani’ had not forgiven her from the sin of infanticide. She had claimed her son by way of punishment. Though her grief was great the time is a greater healer and her life again came on the rails. Once again she was pregnant. Once again she wished for a daughter with renewed vigour. A strong feeling got hold of her that only after she rears a girl child will her sin cease to visit upon her family. But man proposes and God disposes. She was again gifted a healthier and better looking son who became our father. The promise yet remained to be redeemed. This gave her many sleep-less nights and every time she remembered it she gave her son a tight hug as if to protect him from some unseen danger. For two years she never got him out of her sight and presently another small thing was growing in her womb. Perhaps her pledge will get redeemed this time at last to set her at rest. But these small family matters were nothing in comparison with a much greater calamity looming large over India since 1896. It was bubonic plague that started from Bombay and swept towards east and northwest decimating villages and towns on its way. In early 1898 it reached our village. People started dying like flies after a few days high fever. Families fled to safer areas carrying essential supplies with them. Only old persons got left behind to guard their houses. Our great grandfather advised his three sons to leave, along with their families, for their in-laws, who till that time were free from this scourge. His two elder sons left the village but his youngest son refused to leave. He said he had made a pact with his Brahmin friend to stay put, to help cremate the dead, mainly old persons, who alone were left behind. Bebbe refused to go without her husband. Baba Amar Singh got a big problem on hand. Collecting all his experience of sixty odd years he thus spake to his daughter-in-law: “My dear daughter, I appreciate your spirit. It is laudable but it does not go beyond that. Your husband is staying for a much greater cause, that of humanity. We might die by staying back; one day each one of us has to die. But yet we are immortal as we continue to live in the bodies of our children. That is the only transmigration I am aware of and which continues happening before our eyes. I have already ensured my immortality through the children of my sons and daughters. But yours and your husband’s perpetual life is in your hands, in the shape of yours infant son, and the one yet to be born. Your primary duty is to protect them for your husband’s and your own sake”. These words of wisdom had a salutary effect on Bebbe’s mind and she agreed to go to her elder brother at sheikhupura. This was her first visit to her parents house and for that matter to her brother, Tirath Ram.
Her two brothers, as described in the earlier part of the story, were left behind when she was brought to our village as a bride. The elder brother grew to be a studious young man and for lack of education got employment as a helper in a cloth shop. The younger one for lack of parental care became a sort of vagabond and sometimes came to our village to seek financial help from his elder sister. But the elder one never came to our village. After a stint at the cloth shop, he started visiting villages, carrying a bundle of choice cloth pieces, to sell to the village folk. On one of these visits, in a village called ‘mullah’- a few miles from our village – he came across a young widow with a small sikh boy. She was a good looking girl but maltreated by her in-laws. On repeated visits both of them came to know each other to such extant that they decided to marry. The girl’s in-laws could not hear of it. So the girl eloped with Bebbe’s brother carrying her son along. They solemnized their marriage in a gurdwara at sheikhupura. Tirath Ram invited both his sisters at his marriage but Bebbe being embroiled in situation, post her daughter’s demise at that time, could not avail of this invitation. Thus it was her first visit to her sister-in-law also. She picked up two ear-rings and two bangles from her extensive stock of jewelry for her brother’s wife Mathra Dei. She used to show these to me, as my grandmother’s gifts, when I stayed with them for two initial years of my education. Sant Singh, her son from her previous marriage, had by then shifted to another house after his marriage. Of her two daughters, from her second marriage, the elder one was married in a sikh family of our village and the younger one was almost of my age. But we have digressed far away from Bebbe’s times. At the time of her departure from village, Bebbe had extracted a promise from her father-in-law that they will continue informing her of their welfare, through a messenger, once a week. An aadi vaasi servant of the family brought her news of the village each week. She learnt that only old people were left back, except her husband and his friend. Daily one or two old persons were dying and cremated by them with help from aadi vaasis and able-bodied olds. She sent the news of her own welfare back through the same messenger. This to and fro system of information continued for nearly two months. Then abruptly it stopped. Bebbe waited for another week. Then she panicked. She asked her brother to take her immediately to her village. As he was making arrangements for their journey, Bebbe’s brother-in-law arrived from the village to fetch her. He said Sunder Singh was ill and they had come back to the village on learning his condition. Bebbe was shell shocked. One thought constantly persisting in her mind was that Mata Rani had not forgiven her for her sin. First she took away her son and now she was after her husband to give her maximum pain. When they reached village her husband was still alive but in coma. As she wiped his face with her hand, he just opened his eyes and then closed them for ever. The plague had now spent itself and our grandfather was its last victim. It was not satisfied till it had felled its most valiant opponent. There was great mourning and much breast beating by women. Bebbe’s mother-in-law took her away from the women and let her weep in her lap. It was the last month of her expectant child and due precaution was called for its safety. Our father, then merely of two years, was made to ignite his father’s pyre, hardly knowing what he was doing. Soon after the last rites of the departed, a girl child was born to Bebbe, who became our ‘bua’ Saraswati – srasti for short. Bebbe heaved a sigh of relief. A girl had finally been sent to her as indication that her sin was forgiven. It was too late for her husband and for her pledge, of placing her daughter in his arms, but at least her son was safe from her curse. She was not worried about her daughter. She had named her after Mata Rani’s own sister goddess. She was dead right in her belief as our ‘bua’ lived for close to hundred years.
Dear Papaji
Thankyou for this wonderful gift. I have read it and re-read it and enjoyed it every time. It is great writing and I want you to keep adding to it. Bebbe is becoming so real to me. I wish there was a picture of her somewhere. If you know someone who looks like her you have to tell me. Waiting for the next instalment....With lots of love-Ambi.
Dear Ambi,
Though I am not yet ready with the next instalment,I may answer your query regarding Bebbe. No we have no picture of her; nor can I recall her face in any known person. Some of the resemblance can be seen in the face of her son. She had the chiseled features
of a gypsy woman. Sometimes I see her face among American indian women in movies.
Love Daddy.
ANATOMY OF HUMOUR & LIFE WITH WIFE
An autobiography in fiction.
Explanatory theme.
Any discerning person on reading this title will exclaim,” It is all humbug. It can either be an autobiography or a fiction. It can’t be both. The two terms are mutually antagonistic – contradicere-dictum.” I asked the same question and made the same observations to myself, yet I let it as it is. Here are my reasons.
We often hear critics saying, about a work of fiction, that it has autobiographical touches. Similarly while reviewing an autobiography, they are prone to say, that it smacks of fictional details. The line between the two is extremely thin. An autobiography without fictional touches will be dry as dust. Humor, an essential ingredient of an exciting work, feeds on fiction. A seed compared to a tree looks insignificant. Yet the whole tree lies encased into it. An event or an anecdote in the autobiography might be 99 % fiction and 1 % fact. Yet that 1% is the seed or the soul of that narrative. In a way every written work is an autobiography because it is the outcome of writer’s thought and experience. In order, however, not to leave anything to conjecture or doubt, I solemnly declare that this is purely a work of art – the art of humor – and any resemblance to fact or figure – past or present - may be taken as merely a coincidence. Consequent to this humble explanation, I beg my reader’s permission to start my story..
Birth - Gender
I was born on 19th December, 1924 in an obscure village. Immediately after my birth I was proclaimed a male. That is the crux of my story. Because if I had been any other gender than a male, this story would have been vastly different. In that fleeting moment the destiny of my whole life got written. For instance, without my knowledge or consent, I was consigned to the male half of human race. It also got determined that I shall live with a wife or wives but not vice versa. I shall believe in the supremacy of males and in any war of sexes I shall stand by and fight on the side of my gender half.
Religion – Community.
My fortuitous birth in a sikh family made me a sikh for the rest of my life. Sikhs are a virile, though miniscule, community. Once we were neither virile nor miniscule. Then came Guru Gobind Singh. He created a section of us into ‘Khalsa’ and made it virile. ‘khalsa’ later made us miniscule. Let me explain. ‘khalsa’ is a Persian word. It stands for king’s personal assets, lands, properties and body guards. The word ‘khalis’ is derived from it to have the meaning of ‘pure’ because king’s personal wealth was considered pure or legitimate. The proverb ‘kharhe ka khalsa’ also came from there, meaning royal property lasts till ruler is in power. The Guru created khalsa, from among his Sikhs, so as to have a body of personal warriors around him, to protect his family and mission. He did his best to enlarge their number to become a shield of the Sikhs. Ultimately he envisaged them to play the same role among sikh people as the armed forces do among civilians. The 5 K’s were, to be, the parts of their uniform. The ‘khalsa was very dear to his heart. In his famous invocation,”Sukhi vussay moro parwara – Sevak, sikh, sabbay kartara” ‘sevak stands for the ‘khalsa’. Here Guru prays for the welfare of his people in the following order – Family, Khalsa, Sikhs and God’s other creatures. At another place he says his mission, his glory. his victories are all due to the khalsa. He prophesised,”Raj krega khalsa” (Khalsa will rule) and khalsa did rule, as a sovereign power, over a large empire, consisting of most of present Punjab, Haryana, Himachal Pradesh, Tibet, whole of Pakistan,
Jammu, Kashmir, Ladhakh and parts of Afganistan. Long after Guru Gobind Singh, the Sikhs existed in three forms. First of all, the khalsa, who were administered ‘pahul’ (sweetened water called Amrit) by way of initiation and made Amrit dhari Sikhs, to follow all the tenets of Sikhism including 5 K’s.and to append ‘singh to their name. The second section consisted of ‘kesh-dhari’ sikhs who sported full length hair on head, appended ‘singh’ to their name, but were slack on one or more requirements under 5K’s and also did not take ‘pahul’. The third section was of ‘sehej-dhari’ sikhs, who did not keep long hair nor appended ‘Singh’ after their name, but believed in the sikh gurus including guru Granth Sahib and observed sikh reeti (way) in their social customs. In other words they kept on to the same form as was current in the times of first nine Gurus.These three groups were in the ratio of 1:5:25 i.e there were five times as many kesh-dhari Sikhs as the khalsa and five times as many sahej-dhari Sikhs as the kesh-dhari ones.
When the ‘khalsa’ lost its empire to the British, It had no territories to rule over. Even the gurudwaras were in the custody of sahej-dhari Sikhs. Warfare and the rule were the only things they knew. Being out of occupation, they thought of ruling over the hearts of Sikhs by capturing the gurudwaras. They called it, liberation of sikh shrines, from outsiders. So around 1930 they started a movement to oust the sahej-dhari Sikhs from the management of sikh shrines. The whole body of Sikhs was like an ocean in which khalsa was like mere salt. The sikhs existed from Dacca to Kabul, and Tibet to cape comorin but khalsa was confined only to some pockets of Punjab. Udasi Sikhs, working on the lines of Budhist bhikshus, were spreading the sikh faith among a large multitude, throughout the land of Hindustan. Gradually the main line India would have turned to Sikhism as it did earlier to Budhism. But such a large body was difficult to control and rule over. The khalsa then decided to cut this behemoth to the size of a lamb . With one stroke of the pen they declared that those without the appendage of ‘singh’ and not sporting long hair were not Sikhs. One difficulty came in their way. None of the gurus had singh after their name, including guru Gobind Singh, who for 34 years out of 42 years of his life, was known as Gobind Rai. They also are not known to have kept long hair on their head. The problem was however hushed and swept under the carpet. The khalsa Sikhs were vociferous and their fiat held the ground.. The shrines were occupied and ‘sahej-dhari Sikhs thrown out of the sikh fold. The Sikhs shrank to 1/5th of their prospective size. In 1950’s the chance to replenish their ranks again arrived. Dr. Ambedkar expressed a desire to embrace Sikhism, along with his numerous Dalit following, spread throughout India, with just one condition, that they be exempted from keeping long hair. Master Tara singh was at the helm of sikh affairs at that time. He was a Brahman convert to Sikhism. Partly due to his caste consciousness and partly due to khalsai abhorrence of ‘sahajdharis’ he spurned the offer and lost this glorious chance. Considering that ‘Dalits’ constitute nearly half of the Hindus, the enormity of our shortsightedness can only be imagined. This is how ‘Khalsa’ hijacked Sikhism for their vested interest. In the words of Bhai Gurdas, the fence ate up the crop. Guru Gobind Singh had warned the ‘Khalsa’:-
“Jub lug khalsa reh nyara - Tub lug bhekh diyon main sara
Jub eh gahai biprin ki reet - Main na kroon in ki parteet”
(So long as Khalsa remains unique – I shall give it power and physique
But if it takes to brahmanical ways
That will be our parting of ways)
Disregarding Guru’s warning, the present day khalsai have become priests in gurdwaras like Brahmins in temples, performing almost same rituals as the latter do. Gouging on sacred food and leading sedentary life, they have become flatulent and unfit for Guru’s martial duties. They prefer music and harmonium over fencing and sword-play. The Guru has therefore withdrawn all power from them. In the 1984 pogrom, not a single khalsa dared to protect its protege, placed by the Guru under his guardianship, from maddening mobs.. . I am not a khalsa but a simple sikh, yet I am in the good company of the likes of Harbhajan Singh, Khushwant Singh and Man Mohan singh.
Childhood - Family
I seem to have finished my story before I began it. The trouble is I am 84 years old. In between the narrative, I am likely to jump places, and delve into some later period, in terms of action or thought. In the first two years of my life, I am told to have done nothing remarkable, except breaking my thigh bone, courtesy my elder sister. So I start from when I was two years old. I remember that milestone because it was then that I made my first weighty statement. When asked by chacha Ram Lal, in jest, what type of wife I would like to have I answered, “One who is weaker than me but stronger than others”. It was not a statement made off the cuff. Lot of un-noticed observation must have preceded it. To tell you the truth I have not made a weightier and more meaningful statement since then.
But the period relevant to that statement is a way off. Presently I am in the care of my mother, my grandmother, my father and chacha Ram Lal whenever he happens to be with us. I have written extensively about the last three separately. Here suffice it to say that my father was the type whose command could turn the likes of me into a Casablanca; my grandmother was a Godmother and chacha Ram Lal a kindered soul. But I have not spoken much about my mother. She was a highly educated woman (according to the standards of the time) – academically five grades higher than my father. She was a gentle lady of genial disposition. She never learned how to command us. Perhaps she did not feel the need for it because of an experienced general in the house for that. She possessed a sense of humor of the silent but intellectual type. To cajole, to have our lice picked up from our head, she used to tell us interesting stories. Most of these she made up herself. Let me tell you one of these.
“Once a buffalo and a sparrow became great friends. They could not spend a single moment away from each other. The sparrow sat on the back of buffalo the whole day getting down only to pick up some worms. She even released her trickle on the buffalo’s back which the latter washed off with her long tail. One day the sparrow thus spoke to her friend, “Dear friend, friendship is a two way affair, in which there is give and take. You give me a ride and also let me trickle on you. But I give you nothing. I know I can’t give you a ride but I can, at least, let you ease yourself on me.” The buffalo advised her not to get taken up with formalities but the sparrow insisted in the interest of cementing their friendship. At last the buffalo gave in. The sparrow sat on the ground and the buffalo released a cascade of dung on her, submerging her completely. Not seeing her coming to perch on her back, she thought the sparrow had gone for a wash and would return to her later, and so she walked off. A peasant woman collected the dung to make dung cakes. She was glad to find a sparrow in it. She put up a kettle on fire in order to cook it. The sparrow pleaded, “Please Ma, at least wash me before cooking” She washed her. Then she pleaded, “Please Ma dry me up before cooking” The woman agreed and put her under the sun. As sparrow’s wings dried she was able to take a flight and flew to a nearby tree. The peasant woman was distressed and accused the sparrow of faithlessness. The sparrow acknowledged her services and thanked her for these. By way of giving something in return she gave her this advice, which also is motto of this tale..
“Never make friendship with the high and the mighty”.
The character of these stories was simplicity itself as they were meant for infants. For those who may find this tale a little frivolous, I may quote Guru Angad’s following couplet:-
“Naal iyane dosti vdaru siyon neh
Paani under leek jyo tis da thao na theh”
(Friendship with a stranger and love with a person of rank
Is like a writ on water, no sooner written than it sank)
The tale supplies a graphic proof of the Guru’s saying. It is simple in craft but profound in meaning. We will come across more about mother in Bebbe.
Roles interchange - Cosequences of.
Even at the very young age, I had gathered enough knowledge about the world to ponder on. Life was a relationship in which a man and a woman were partners.; the man being a dominant partner. This was the usual pattern that gave it a smooth running. But it was not universal. Had it been so there would have been no problem. But now and then some woman insisted to wear the pants at home and the man became a butt of people’s jokes. I did never understand why a woman would do any such thing. Throughout ages woman has been praised for humbleness, mildness, submissiveness and man for authority, bravery, and dominance. For instance Sita was an epitome of submissiveness and Rama that of bravery and each was eulogized for respective qualities of opposite nature. Consider for a while that they happened to exchange their respective qualities with each other. Now visualize what Ramayana will be in that circumstance. Here is an extract from the imagined Ramayana.
Sita :- “Rama darling, I hurt my finger yesterday while stalking a stag. Could you go today in search of some game.”
Rama:- “Sita dear, you know how much I fear the thicket, when all alone. Besides, stag is not my cup of tea.
Sita:- “Please; you can at least hunt a rabbit or two. Take Lakshman also with you.”
Rama:- “O.K. but please keep your ear towards us in case we get into some trouble” (Taking their bows they proceed to jungle. After some time Ravana enters their abode.
Ravana:- “Alakh Nirinjan”.
Sita:- “Who is it.”
Ravana:- “A hermit, ma; looking for a piece of bread”
Sita:- “Welcome your holiness; come in and have some water also.”
Ravana:- “Here is some line ma. When I try to cross , it flares up into flames.”
Sita:- “Oh! Excuse me. We call it ‘Sita-rekha’. When I go hunting I draw it around the cottage to protect Lakshman and his brother. Today, they have gone hunting and I forgot to wipe it off.” (Sita comes with a broom and obliterates the line. Ravana appears in his royal robes with a golden crown on his head. He tries to hold Sita from behind. Sita shoves him off and strikes him with the broom handle with such force that he gets thrust into the ground up to his knees. Sita is amazed to see him go short by1½ feet. Ravana is dumb-found)
Ravana:- “I beg your parden, ma. I lost my balance while changing into my royal dress. I inadvertently happened to touch you and perhaps you misunderstood. I am Ravana, the king of Ceylon. I heard great deeds of your munificence and came to test these in the garb of a hermit. Please excuse me.”
Sita:- “Well..well; so you are Sarup Nakha’s brother! I did hear of some tiff between her and Lakshman. Children will be children you know.”
Ravana, rubbing his head with his hands, speaks mildly, “ By any chance, ma, were you Durga in your past life?”
“To tell you the truth”, says Sita, “ I am Durga in this life too”
“ That’s why – That’s why” repeats Ravana ruefully.
( Ravana takes leave of Sita and repairs towards his kingdom. On the way he meets two young lads, carrying small bows and arrows, and a hunted hare between them.)
Ravana:- “Excuse me sweet lads: Are you by any chance Rama and Lakshman of Ayodhya”.
Lakshman with an air of confidence, “ Of course we are. What business is it of yours.”
Ravana:- “None, in fact. But I was wondering why are you carrying small bows and arrows. With these, naturally, you can hunt only hares and rabbits. I happened to pass by your cottage and there I saw a big bow with long and thick arrows. Why don’t you use that”.
Lakshman, a little abashed, “Oh! That: That in fact is Sita mayya’s hunting bow. It is too heavy We can’t lift it. Bhabi won bhayya with it in the swayamber.”
Ravana to himself, “I am going empty handed. What shall I show to my people as fruits of my labor. These youths seem to be an easy game. Why not take them along.” So he abducted both and kept them at Punch Vati.
If you are a Ram bhagat you will not like this narrative – nor did I when I wrote it. I only wanted to show how ridiculous it would look if man and woman stood in each other’s feet.
How any one could act contrary to one’s own nature was beyond my comprehension! But that is what life is and in any such contrariety it is the man who is the chief sufferer. Strangely it is not always the lowly and the meek who suffer from this malady. The high and the mighty are equally prone to it. Socrates, we are told, had a shrew for a wife. His long walks in the open, to escape her nagging, led to the development of his philosophy. Shakespere’s drama ‘Taming of the shrew’ is supposed to have autobiographical touch. Napoleon, the great, used to write abject letters to wife Josephine in order to humor her. So, as I grew up, I was always on the look out for a remedy against this impending danger. For this purpose I searched a vast volume of literature in Urdu, English and Persian. At last I found a story in Persian which seemed to answer my need. The title of the story was – “Gurba kushtan rooze awwal” (The cat must be killed on the very first day). It ran like this.
Taming of the shrew.
“A newly married person invited his friend for dinner. After introductions the host asked his wife to serve them drinks. “Yes my master” answered his wife and within a minute two glasses of wine were on the table. Then he asked for some dry fruits and these too were on the table in no time. After the drinks the food was served which was a great treat. In between, his wife would politely inquire, if the master and his friend needed any other thing, and if they did, it was readily provided. The guest was greatly impressed. When the dinner was over he thanked his host’s wife for her excellent table manners. “No sir” answered the woman politely, “ that was just my sacred duty”. When the host was seeing him off, the friend asked him in wonder, “Dear me; where in the world did you get such a sweet wife. Mine, in comparison, is a bitter gourd grown on a neem tree. She relishes in treating me like dirt”. His friend replied, “Such women don’t come ready made, my friend. They have to be cultivated with shock treatment. On the day mine arrived, I killed a cat, in her presence and out of fright she became docile and obedient”. On homeward journey, he thought over his friend’s method and found it flawless. He decided to try the same plan at home. On the way, he bought a small cat from a pet shop, and brought it home in a bag. Then in the presence of his wife, he let the cat out of the bag, and taking a heavy stick, killed it with one stroke. His wife watched him, for a moment, with consternation and then cried, “What on earth is this? Have you gone mad? You seem to need a psychiatrist”! He was surprised to see his plan go awry. Distressed, he went to his friend and apprised him of his debacle. His friend had a hearty laugh. He told him there was nothing wrong with the experiment. Only it had to be performed on the very first day -
“Gurba kushtan rooze awwal” is the prime need.
I noted two important things from the story and put them in the closet of my mind. One, the method of taming the wife, and two, the timely execution of experiment.
Hunting a wife.
As I approached the marriageable age the services of a go-between were needed. In those days, matrimonial services were not available. Relationships were fixed by word of mouth. In such situations an unoccupied person, vagrant by nature, but socially well connected, came handy. A little thinking brought out that chacha Ram Lall perfectly filled the bill. He was sent for and apprised of the problem. He said he already had a girl in view at Lahore. In fact her parents, whom he knew, had asked him to look for some boy for their girl, and he had suggested my name to them. A date and time was fixed, in consultation with the girl’s family. It was decided that I will go to Lahore with chacha Ram Lal to see the girl. On the appointed day we started with this object in view. On the way Chacha again asked me what sort of girl I had in mind. My earlier statement flashed before my mind, but having suitably provided for it in my plan, I did not feel the need to repeat it. Instead I replied that the girl should be educated and good looking. He assured me that I need not worry on those two counts.
Some stray thoughts.
The last fifteen or so miles of journey was by train To pass time I started ruminating on the changing patterns of matrimony.Till early twentieth century, all marriages were arranged ones. The boy and the girl saw each other only after the marriage was solemnised. It was like lottery – you got the prize or you didn’t. In the second quarter need was felt for some change. Love marriages were yet way off. In fact they were considered highly despicable. A via media was put in place. A meeting of the two families was arranged, usually at the girl’s house. The supposed idea was for the boy and the girl to see each other. For all practical purposes, however, it culminated in the exhibition of the girl, before the family of the boy, in most abject manner. Quite often she was asked to sing or knit. Her approval of the boy was taken for granted. It was the boy’s approval that was eagerly sought. In my view it was a most unfair practice and in this regard my sympathies were entirely with the girl and her people
Tables turned.
As we reached the girl’s house a crowd of people was present to receive us. After a few formalities and serving of some refreshments, I found myself amidst about a dozen women and girls, sitting in a semi circle, with half a dozen men forming the outer arc. I looked about, among the girls, for the girl in question. In my view, she should be better dressed and made up and look more bashful than others. But unfortunately I did not find any one with such distinguishing features. Any way, I though, she will shortly be introduced. For some embarrassing moments there was complete silence. Every body was looking at me. I felt like a newly arrived zoo specimen exhibited to curious onlookers. Nobody felt the need for introductions. Mercifully some body broke the spell and asked me if I was employed. I did not expect this at all. I thought it was my privilege to ask questions, and those too from the girl, who was not yet even been announced. I was put to bat on a sticky wicket without so much as even a coin having been tossed. However this was not the time to score points and so I began, “..eh..eh..eh (every body laughed). Clearing my throat, I resumed, “No, not at present, but I was employed earlier, first in the Air force and then in a civil office at Simla.” Pinching me from behind, Chacha Ram Lal interjected, “No; he is still employed and has come on leave only. I was in knee deep waters. I hesitatingly explained, “Chacha has been away for long and is not aware of the latest position. I have resigned my post at simla and now am planning to join service in Delhi. This satisfied every body including chacha Ram Lal. Then I was questioned about my pay. I said I was getting Rs 90 a month in my last posting. Even my prospective father-in-law too must have been getting only that much after 20 years of service. So every body was satisfied on that count also except chacha Ram Lal. He insisted that I was getting Rs. 500 a month - Only I did not know that - because, according to him, my pay was collected by my elder brother. This was laughed away by every body, including myself. Then I was asked up to how far I had read. I said I had passed the 12th class in first division. Incidentally, I had the certificate in my pocket. Catching a glimpse of doubt somewhere, I drew the certificate and placed it in the hands of my father-in-law. His brother teased him,” See Gurbaksh Singh; and you are only a third division matriculate.” This caused a big laughter and slightly eased my nerves.All the men were duly impressed and did not ask any other question. Then a lady sitting on my right hand side asked me about my brothers and sisters, their marital status and occupations. I politely answered each and every question and everybody appeared to be satisfied. Then a heavy set man with a booming voice spoke,” Gurbaksh Singh, you can not get a better son-in-law than this. Order some sweets and close the deal.” Nobody asked me how I felt or if I had any questions to ask. My approval was taken for granted even before I had seen, what in the language, visa-vis deal, is called a commodity. The stark realization came upon me that I had been reduced to the same position to which usually the girl is driven and for which a while ago I had expressed my sympathies for her tribe. The tables were turned upon me and I seemed not being able to do anything about it. Taking their leave chacha and I came out. Mightily distressed, soon as we were alone, I asked him tersely, “But Chacha, where in the hades was the girl I supposedly came to see. I have not the foggiest idea about her” Chacha patiently replied, “The one on your right, who was asking you questions about your brothers and sisters……” My heart started sinking. Interrupting him I said, “ Well, she is so so in looks, but chacha don’t you think she is a little too mature and a little too bold.” In a deprecating tone Chacha added, “Let me finnish first. That was not the girl. That was girl’s mother. The girl was not even there because she refused to come for excess of bashfulness”. I was somewhat pacified, but I thought, I was going to be the only man on earth, who was expected to approve of a girl, by looking at her mother. Granted that it had its own advantages. That way you could fore-tell how your wife would look at her mother’s age. Those who overlook it, marry a calf and end up with a buffalo. But this was not the time to gloat over future prospects. There were more important things in the present than that. And one of these was bothering me at the moment without suggesting a way out. The next day my prospective father-in-law arrived with baskets of fruits and packages of sweets and I was duly betrothed, inspite of my lukewarm protests. My chief complaint was that I was not shown the girl. I was not much worried about the level of her education, due to my belief, that the city girls are well – rather too well - educated and I being not yet even a graduate, I feared the latter. Chacha Ram Lal assured us that he had seen the girl; that she was fair, good looking and healthy. But I had no faith in him, when he was not even married himself. So mother promised that she will have a look at the girl when she next visited her brother in Lahore. This finally put me at rest. But something down under still nagged that I had perhaps lost the first round.
Dear Ambi,
This is the first installment of promised material. Let me know your take on it.
Love, Daddy.
Dear Papaji
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this piece. The tale of you going to see Biji is delicious. Write more about it.
I am glad you finally wrote the piece about sikh history. You have been talking about it for so long, now we have it in writing. It does not fit your title of 'Humor' though. It is an essay by itself. With time all this is going to become a moot point. The way things are evolving sikhs are going to find their own way out. In America this is already true.
The inside out story of Ramayan is interesting but maybe should be left out!! However, continue your own story for sure. I am eagerly waiting for the next instalment.
Yours Ambi
Dear Ambi,
Thank you for your valuable comments.I appreciate your sensitivity. I had my own doubts concerning points made by you. That's why I was hesitating to put it on your blog. I wouldn't like you to be embarrassed by any of my writing. You are free to edit it in any way you think fit.
Love, Daddy.
Dear Ambi,
Subsequent to my above post, you may delete all matter starting from.....Consider for a while that they happened to exchange.... upto the....If you are a Ram bhagat.... para. Add in its place as follows:-
'Some people might accuse me of male chauvinism. To them all, I say, "Right from the 'Garden of Eden' down to all the religions of the world, the woman has been assigned its proper place, which is, to play the second fiddle to the man. Any one born into, or believing in any religion, can not raise his finger at me."
There after you may trasfer it to some branch line, as it has come in the way of Bebbe. I have seen your comments on 'payal' and would do the needful.
Love, Daddy.
Dear Ambi,
I have had your take and I fully agree with it. Here are my new fillers for the respective niches of ‘Khalsa’ and ‘Sita’.
Religion – Community.
My fortuitous birth in a sikh family made me a sikh for the rest of my life. Sikhs are devout followers of Guru Nanak and his successor gurus. Nothing for us is more important; not even a piece of history, than the edification of our Gurus. So finding our first Guru being born on 15th of April, not a particularly auspicious day, we changed his birthday to the most auspicious day viz. ‘Katak ki puranmashi. We are a virile, though miniscule, community. Once we were neither virile nor miniscule. Then came Guru Gobind Singh. He created a section of us into ‘Khalsa’ and made it virile. ‘khalsa’ later made us miniscule.
Minuscule here should not be taken in derogatory sense. Isn’t small beautiful in its own way? Doesn’t small, prevent things from getting unwieldy; make them simple and manageable? We are simple folk and are not afraid to admit it. Besides there were historical reasons for doing so. For one, the ‘Udassis’ whom Guru Nanak had rejected as reactionaries had recanted and come back into the sikh fold. They had been propagating Sikhism all over India and had converted half of it to the sikh way of life. We had become big. But ‘big’ is not always beautiful. See what happened to Budhism! It became big and spread all over India. Hindus said, “Yes we are budhists by religion, but as we live in Hindustan, we are hindus by habitat and culture”. They put Budha’s idol along with their own and all became hindus once again. They would have done the same to us if we had gone as big as the budhists once were in India. Granted that the sikh people had forgiven the ‘udassis’ for their original recalcitrance. Granted that the voice of democracy was on their side. Granted also that an ‘udassi’ was one of the chief warriors of Guru Gobind Singh. But the ‘Khalsa’ was not ready to accept them as Sikhs, especially when they were managing and occupying all our shrines. Earlier we allowed them this privilege as we were pre-occupied, in carving out an empire to rule upon, as prophesied by our Guru. When we lost that empire to the English , we had pretty well nothing much to do. Of course we could try to drive out the English and retake our empire. Hadn’t the Guru taught us (Ek lakh se ek larhaun) for one to stand against one and a quarter lakh enemy? But it was very difficult to drive out the English. And we had got tired of doing difficult things. It was comparatively much easier to drive out ‘Udassis’ from our shrines and this we effectively did. Even the English helped us in this task and we thanked them for it. With this task completed we also drove out ‘Sahej-dhari’sikhs, who did not sport long hair, and trimmed the proper Sikhs to 1/5th of their original size. Numbers is not the criterion – Khalsa or khalis (pure) surely is. If numbers was any consideration, we could have got as many as we needed, when Dr. Ambedkar offered, along with his dalit followers, to embrace Sikhism. But we spurned that offer. All through I have used ‘we’ for the general body of ‘kesh-dhari’Sikhs which includes ‘khalsa’ (Amrit-dhari Sikhs) and plain Sikhs in the ratio of 1:5. Although plain Sikhs command a huge majority, it is the ‘khalsa’ which calls all the shots. Unfortunately I belong to the plain category. So do many other well known Sikhs like Harbhajan Singh, Khushwant Singh and Dr. Man Mohan Singh. We have a lurking fear that we may perhaps be the next target of the ‘khalsa’. May this come out to be an unfounded conjecture. After all Khalsa was created by the Guru to be the fence of the Sikhs. And the fence does not / should not eat up the crop.
Roles interchange – consequences of.
Even at the very young age, I had gathered enough knowledge about the world to ponder on. Life was a relationship in which a man and a woman were partners.; the man being a dominant partner. This was the usual pattern that gave it a smooth sailing. But it was not universal. Had it been so there would have been no problem. But now and then some woman insisted to wear the pants at home and the man became a butt of people’s jokes. I did never understand why a woman would do any such thing. Throughout ages woman has been praised for humbleness, mildness, submissiveness and man for authority, bravery, and dominance.For instance Sita was an epitome of submissiveness and Rama that of bravery and each was eulogized for respective qualities of opposite nature. Some people believe that Sita was submissive because she was weak. These people have not read their Ramayana properly. Valmik, the author of Ramayana, tells us that in the home of her father ‘ Raja Janak,’ Sita was the only one who could lift ‘Shiva’s’ bow to wipe the dust from below it. It was for this reason that lifting of this bow by her suitors was made the chief condition in her ‘suamver’. Only Rama, besides Sita, could lift this bow and this way he won her hand. She was not only strong in body but in character too, or how else she would have fended off Ravana for almost a year. If she had yielded, what would have been left for Rama to show his manliness on! Yet when Rama, her husband, asked ‘Agni-prikhsha’ of her to prove her chastity, she meekly walked through the fire. Not that she had no case. She too could have asked her husband to do likewise. But she didn’t because she was a woman and a wife and it was her duty not to question why but to obey him in all respects. Again when under exigency of the state, Rama banished her to the forest, she could have rightfully exclaimed, “I accompanied you in your banishment for fourteen years. Isn’t it your duty now to give company to me?” But no, she did no such thing. She did not even make a plea about her pregnancy. As a woman and a wife she did what the society had prescribed to be her duty. And it was to obey her husband under all circumstances. It is this quality for which we praise and honor Sita the most. And it is this very quality, that exists in our modern woman, in the least. Take for instance, Kiran Bedi of India. After doing her I.A.S she chose I.P.S. as her field of work, which till then was the exclusive preserve of men. Then she started doing unwomanly acts. She started leading her men from the front. She started catching criminals single handedly. She developed a bad knack of whatever men did to do the very same herself a little better. She even started holding ‘darbars’ like maharajas of old to hear people’s complaints. Her superiors hated her, but her subordinates doted on and insulated her from her enemies. She became a real danger to the manliness of men. So she was removed from the field and brought to Delhi office for bureaucratic work. Did you think that was the end of her mischief. No; such persons always create new fields for their annoying habits. She found Delhi roads cluttered with illegal parking. She supplied cranes to all police stations in Delhi, with instructions to lift all such vehicles to their stations and release them only after a hefty fine. Even very high, though offending, officers could not escape her grip.. Ordinary people were happy to find the roads clear of obstructions. But she trod on the toes of the high and the mighty. Again the manly ruse arose and she was shunted out to be in charge of Tihar jail, but not before she got acclaimed from Kiran Bedi to Crane Bedi. In jail also, instead of chastising the prisoners she started reforming them. She started schools for their education and technical institutes to teach them different trades. She also started rehabilitation centers to rid them of liquor and drug addictions. By this time, on her seniority, she was due for the post of Inspector-general of police Delhi. A danger bell started ringing in corridors of power. One voice arose in unison. “Officers of the state unite. You have nothing to lose but the ignominy of suffering a woman’s rule on the road.” So she was bypassed and a manly man was put on the job in her place. Quite un-womanly, she resigned in a jiffy. This is the end of all women who try to be even more than a manlike. If this is taken to be a very ordinary instance, let us take the recent case of prima donna Hillary Clinton. To begin with she received accolades of all and sundry. But very soon she started ruffling the feathers of democrat males. Her excellent work as senator and as mayor of New York was of little avail. For democrats an African American male was good enough but not a woman American. What to talk of presidency. She was not good even for vice-presidency. They would much rather lose the race for presidentship than see a woman as president of America. All hail to great America for showing the woman its proper place!
'Some people might accuse me of male chauvinism. To them all, I say, "Right from the 'Garden of Eden' down to all the religions of the world, the woman has been assigned its proper place, which is, to play the second fiddle to the man. Any one born into, or believing in any religion, can not raise his finger at me."
There after you may trasfer it to some branch line, as it has come in the way of Bebbe. I have seen your comments on 'payal' and would do the needful.
Love, Daddy
Dear ambi
i wanted to add the quoted portion of my post of 11th sept. at the end of new material. Suppy has in- advertently typed the whole portion. you would know how to do it correctly.
Love, daddy
Dear Daddy
This Blog is becoming so complicated that only you and I will be able to understand it. Right now I am a little busy; When I have the time I will sort it out. I laughed through your last two posts. Very good.
Some corrections:
Hillary Clinton was never a mayor of any place.
Obama won because he got more votes. He energised the younger generation that voted in drones for him. This is called Democracy.
My Opinion is that Hillary did not want VP position. She wants to run for President next time and does not want to have to defend Obama's policies which she will have to do if she is his VP. She is very smart. If she wanted to be VP she would have to woe Obama. She only paid lip service to him in order not to seem hostile. Bill Clinton did not do even that.
"You are allowed your own opinions.
You are not allowed your own facts"
What do you think of John Macain's VP pick? Thanks for taking so much interest in American politics. Are others following the election as closely as you are?
Love ...Ambi
Dear Ambi,
Hillary did have some connection with Newyork! Was she a governor?
As for Palin, I do not know much about her, except that she comes from a place just a jump away from Russia but half a globe distant from America. She is the secret weapon of McCain. We have yet to see, if she is the woman standing behind a successful man, whom she pushed two steps forward when he took one step backward, or one behind a loser whom she pulled two steps back when he took one step forward.
Love, Daddy.
Dear Ambi
You are still very busy! Since your Biji is not ready to accompany us even in Febuary/march what about me making it earlier; say around 8th November. I am quite confident to do it alone. Besides I shall be on spot to watch the hurly burly of American elections.
Love, Daddy.
Dear Ambi
You are still very busy! Since your Biji is not ready to accompany us even in Febuary/march what about me making it earlier; say around 8th November. I am quite confident to do it alone. Besides I shall be on spot to watch the hurly burly of American elections.
Love, Daddy.
Bebbe contd.
On the death anniversary of his son,
Bawa Amar Singh thus addressed his other two sons, “Dear sons; don’t for a moment bring this thought in your mind that your brother has died. Instead you believe that your father has died. From now on I absolve myself of all responsibilities towards you and transfer these to the family of my deceased son. I and your mother will live and die for them. I have decided to partition my moving assets into four parts. One each for you two; one for Bishan Dei (Bebbe’s name - it means consort of Lord Vishnu) and one for myself. So long as I and your mother live we shall discharge our responsibilities towards our daughters from it. After we are gone, whatever is left of it shall go to Bishan Dei. If any of you have any objection, let me know of it now”. His sons replied in unison, “No Babaji we have no objection whatsoever in what you propose to do”. Bawa Amar Singh opened his safe and asked his sons to take out all the gold jewelry and pile it on the floor. Then he asked them to make four piles out of it. Bawa Nihal Singh suggested that mother and Bishen Dei are better qualified to ensure that each house gets each type of jewelry currently in use. So they made four equal piles and with the help of a scale made slight alterations where necessary. In the same way Silver wares and jewelry were also distributed. The cash lay hidden under the ground in gharas (pitchers with broad mouth) – Silver rupees five hundred in each, and 10 gharas were allotted to each share. As for land, houses,shops and vacant plots , the distribution in three equal parts was left to be done at some later date.
Time moves on and with it every living thing of the world. Bebbe’s son and daughter were two slender threads with which she was to bind posterity to its ancestors. Her son had reached the school going age but she was loath to part him from her. She could not tie him to her apron string for too long. One auspicious day his grandfather ordered for a salver of laddus and took him to the local school. After distribution of sweets among children, he was made to sit with them on a mat, which he reluctantly did after assurance from the grandfather that his mother will bring his lunch at noon and the servant will bring him home in the afternoon. This went on smoothly for nearly three years. Then one day, for making excessive noise, his class was hauled up for corporal punishment. The teacher broke his stick before he was finished with half the class. As he got busy in looking for another stick; father’s seat being near the door, he availed of this opportunity to decamp and escape the punishment. When his mother came with his lunch, he was nowhere to be seen and none knew where he had gone. Bebbe’s persistent questioning got the teacher unnerved and he put the whole class to search him out. They looked for him everywhere without any result. Soon an alarm was raised through out the village. All the village wells and ponds were scurried through without any trace of him. Towards evening, when all hope started dwindling, he was seen coming out of a sugar-cane field, where during the course of hiding, he was overcome by sleep. Bebbe put him to her chest and gave him a tight unending hug. Next day she withdrew him from school and arranged for him a sort of private tuition at home.
Bhabi
Bhabi in our dialect is brother’s wife. When we were born and growing up we heard our uncles addressing our mother as bhabi. So we also started calling her by the same name. For us (her children) Bhabi meant mother. The linguistic transformation noted in case of Bebbe was repeated in the next generation also.
Close to the time Bebbe withdrew her son from the school, her daughter-in-law (our mother to be) was being admitted in one at sheikhupura town. I am not saying it on benefit of hindsight. In fact they got bound in this relationship long before the time under description. They got informally betrothed to each other when Bhabi was just born and father was only three years old. They were formally betrothed again at the respective ages of five and eight and married quite late (according to the prevailing custom) about eight years hence; the commitment meanwhile having passed through numerous vicissitudes. The weirdest thing about all this affair is that the concerned families were not close, had no direct contact and did not know each other either. This mystery is the topic of our forthcoming narration.
Sheikhupura, to which I have made a passing reference before, was the parental home of both my grandmother and mother. It is a historic town, named after emperor Akbar’s only son Salim, who in his childhood was fondly called ‘sheikhu baba.’ It is believed that he was born after Akbar paid his respects at the mausoleum of Sheikh Salim Chishti. Thus sheikhu became his nick name and Salim his formal name. Later when he became emperor he assumed the title of ‘Jahangir’ which means ruler of the world. In his youth he used to come to this place for hunting. About eight miles west of sheikhupura was a striking monument, called ‘Haran minara’ (watch tower for deers), which bore uncanny resemblance to ‘Golden Temple’ both in general plan and basic structure. As both buildings came up at the same time, it is moot point who took the design from whom. The old sheikhupura, where parents of my mother and grandmother lived, must have been the original village from the times of Jahangir. It had a ‘baazar, in the middle, running from east to west and residential streets on both sides in south and north. There were four streets on the south side and six on the north. Starting from east end of the baazar, my mother’s parental house was in the first south street and grandmother’s in the third south street. My mother’s father, Lala Barkat Ram Chopra, was ‘qanoon-go’ which literally means ‘interpreter’ of law’. By profession he supervised the work of about ten ‘patwaris’ who maintained records of agricultural lands. After marriage his first issue happened to be a girl. We have noticed earlier that the birth of a girl usually was a less welcome event. The very first issue being a girl was even lesser so. The worst scenario was the consecutive birth of seven girls which by no means was improbable. In earlier times it was ascribed to hapless parent’s grave sins in past life. Now we know from the theory of probability that chance of such happening is linked to 7 factorial (1x2x3x4x5x6x7) which in mathematical terms means one chance in about 5000 cases. Every body dreaded it. A popular method to break this series spell was naming the daughters on Indian names of week days: Soma, Mangla, Budha, Veeran; the fourth name literally meant ‘brothers.’ It was believed that from there on boys started being born in place of the girls. Our maternal grandfather (to be), as a matter of caution, named his first daughter ‘Soma.’ The second child was also a daughter and should have
been named ‘Mangla’ but he hesitated a moment. “Why not jump a step and name her ‘Budha’ instead” he contemplated. “That way last stage ‘veeran’ will be a step nearer” So he did accordingly but a vague sense of guilt gripped his mind. He sought counsel of his spiritual guru Baba Harnam singh bedi who earlier was instrumental in bringing Bebbe to our house. Babaji had many followers in sheikhupura and Lala Barkat Ram was one of them. He advised him that it was just a matter of self belief to console oneself. He had not broken any spiritual edict and need have no worry. This gave him much comfort; yet the third child who also was a girl was duly named Veeran and the wait with the hope for a male child started. As a further precautionary measure he paid a visit to ‘Vaishno Devi’ along with his wife and sought her forgiveness for his indiscretion. Lo! the miracle, the fourth child was a chubby male and in gratitude to the goddess was named ‘Devi Ditta’ (gift of Goddess) There was much rejoicing and thanks-giving. Not leaving any thing to chance, next year before the birth of his fifth child, he also paid a visit to Amar Nath shrine located in Kashmir, prayed for the birth of another male child and pledged to name him ‘Amar Nath’. A child was duly born but this time it was a girl. The vacant niche in the names of weekly days got filled. A thick gloom enveloped the house. Inconsolable father relapsed into depression. Alarmed by his condition, the family sent an s.o.s to their guru. Baba Harnam Singh arrived post haste and immediately took the situation in his hands. He urged him to stop grieving and accept the God’s will with grace. He assured him, “Your ‘Amar Nath’ yatra will not go waste; your next child will be a male and you will duly name him ‘Amar Nath.’ Lalaji was only half consoled. He wailed, “ I had three daughters already. Now I have the fourth one. How shall I marry all of them. Good grooms are so difficult to come by these days.” Babaji told him, “You need have no worry for your new born. From today onward she will be my responsibility. You shall raise her for my brother’s grandson who is three years old. He is the only son of his late father who has left him a rich inheritance. Currently he is under guardianship of his grandfather who has pledged his own share also to him. Your daughter will rule that house like a queen.” These comforting words had great effect on the grieving father and he paid his reverant obeisance to his guru. On returning home, Baba Harnam Singh told his brother Bawa Amar singh about all what had happened including his commitment made to Lala Barkat Ram concerning his daughter. Bawa Amar Singh promised to honor his word and asked him to speak to Bishan Dei also. Baba Harnam Singh thus spoke to Bebbe, “Dear Bishni beti; do you remember how, twenty five years ago, I brought you to this house under compelling circumstances. Despite your recent loss, I hope you do not regret it. Now under equally compelling circumstances, I have pledged to link your son to a newly born daughter of one of my respected
followers settled at your native place. It will be a fruitful relationship. I hope you will honor my word”. Bebbe was overjoyed to hear this. Overcoming her emotion she spoke, “Babaji, I indeed am fortunate to have your blessings for my orphaned son. You have done me a great favor by removing the burden of his marriage from my heart” In this informal way, the future of two small children was bound together. A little over two years later, the second son was born in the house of ‘chopras’. Baba Harnam Singh was respectfully invited to grace the occasion and bless the child. Chopras wanted to name the child after their guru. But Babaji reminded them the child was the gift, though belated, from their Amarnath yatra and should be named Amar Nath as earlier promised. This was duly done. Moved by the faith and fervor of the chopra house, Babaji volunteered the following blessing, “ May this house be blessed with yet another son; may its residents prosper and lead long and purposeful lives.” Chopra family was elated beyond measure and touched Babaji’s feet one by one. On this occasion, among other relatives, newly-born’s Nana Nani were also present. They were looking for a suitable boy for their youngest daughter and sought Babaji’s advice and help in the matter. After a little contemplation Babaji suggested to them another grandson of his brother who was of marriageable age. This was Bahadar Singh, son of our grandfather’s brother Nihal Singh. After due formalities, this marriage was solemnized in about a year’s time, and long before her own marriage, her mousi got wedded to mother’s elder brother-in-law. Bedis are famous for their blessings and curses turning up to be true. Another event was getting to be added to this long list of true predictions. The chopra family got their third boy, as blessed by Babaji, who was duly named ‘Guran Ditta’(gift from the guru). On this customary visit of Baba Harnam Singh to chopra family, Bebbe sent some jewelry pieces to her daughter-in-law (to be), through him,in order to formalize the relationship. They in return sent to her a turban with twenty rupees placed on it and five sers (kilos) of laddus. The boy and the girl were of 8 and 5 years respectively; the one was leaving the school and the other one was entering it.
Free from school work, Bebbe’s son devoted his attention to household duties. At home he learnt his granfather’s occupation and outside he supervised cattle’s feed. Bebbe taught him the art of milking the buffalos. Being ambidextrous his capacity for work and out put was far larger than a normal person. But his main interest was in the land. He would go on long walks marking the family fields. Soon he learnt to read ‘patwari’s maps showing individual holdings. By the time he crossed ten, he knew more about land than his uncles and cousin brothers. One day reading the land map closely and calculating family’s total holding, he discovered that a small enclave of about 1/4th acre in size, on the periphery of the village, that belonged to us, was being cultivated by another family. He brought it to
the notice of his eldest uncle, who also was an expert in land matters, and he acknowledged his find. The ‘Parwari’ was sent for and the enclave got transferred to our land account. This particular strip, being nearest to the village, was eminently suitable to grow vegetables on. He procured seeds of some vegetables and sowed them at that spot. His eldest cousin brother had similar plan in his mind and wanted that strip for his own use. Naturally they got into arguments, and to clinch the issue, his cousin brother pointed out that since the whole land was in the name of his father Nihal Singh, ohers had no claim to talk about. Bebbe’s son was greatly surprised and reported the conversation to his grand-
Father. He sent for his two sons and asked the elder one as to who owned the family lands. Bawa Nihal Singh answered, “Babaji, you own the family lands, but a large part that I purchased, with family money of course, is in my name. Besides the land of our Nanaji, who had adopted me as his heir, is also in my name”. His father advised him to distribute all the land in three parts and let each claimant have his share. Bawa Nihal Singh readily agreed and said that since Waryam singh had better knowledge of land than any of them, he might demarcate the three shares. Babaji was only eleven at the time. He confidently and carefully distributed all the land in three equal parts, as according to the rule of the game, he was to get the last share, after the other two had been selected and claimed. Bawa Nihal singh had the first right of selection. But forgoing his right he asked his nephew to have the first pick. Then he asked his younger brother to have the next pick and then kept the last share for himself. His father was so moved with his act of fairness, that removing a diamond studded necklace from his person, he put it on the neck of his son. The same year, Bebbe’s Father-in-law and mother-in-law, after a short illness, died one after another. Bebbe was planning to marry his son around this period. Now she would have to wait for a year. So long as they lived she did not have a moment’s care. Now the responsibility of two children had devolved on her. She also needed to take care of their inheritance. This consisted of nearly ten kilos of gold Jewelry, twice that of silver and about twenty earthen pitchers, containing 500 silver rupees each, hidden under ground at different places. Nearly six months after her parents-in-law’s death, Bebbe sent a message to the ‘chopras’ to fix a date for children’s marriage some time next year. They replied that their daughter had just crossed eighth year, was still studying in primary school and they were not ready to marry her yet. Besides her elder sister had just been married and she was required to look after and teach her younger brothers. Bebbe was greatly dismayed. Anyway she had to wait for six months on her own, would wait about six months more, and then take up the matter again. A year gone, she asked her brother at sheikhupura to go to the chopra’s house personally to fix the date for marriage. He reported back that they did not appear
keen on marriage and wanted another year or two to decide. Mean while Mangla, he added, had joined a private school for further studies. This school was started by the wife of one, Ushnak Rai,a local youth who had gone to U.K. for studying law. It was a boon for those girls who wanted to study beyond the primary stage. Bebbe’s son had entered his teens and she was getting desperate. To her misfortune Baba Harnam Singh had had a stroke and was partially paralysed. Bebbe waited for another year and then sent her nephew’s wife to her sister to press her for early marriage of her daughter. She too returned empty-handed, but what she reported to Bebbe in confidence, shook the ground from under her feet. Devi Ditta, Mangla’s elder brother was deadly against her marriage to a village boy. Her younger brothers were very much attached to her and did not want her to be married yet. The school mistress where she studied, also opposed marriage of girls at tender age and wanted her to continue her studies. Bebbe was beside herself with impotent rage. In a final attempt , Bebbe requested her elder brother-in-law, Bawa Nihal Singh to do something in the matter. Through his daughter-in-law he was related to the chopras and Bebbe felt they would not refuse him. He went and talked to the ‘chopras’. As negotiations proceeded he felt there was no oil in these seeds. So he asked them point-blank whether they were serious on the question of marriage or not. They tried to clothe their answer in mild language, but at the end blurted out, how they could give their daughter to a country lad? Bawa Nihal singh was equally blunt. He hit back, “I do grant our boy is a country lad but is your daughter a european.” With this the matter came to a final close and Chopras were told that was the end of the matter from our side. Bebbe’s son had crossed his fourteenth year and she was in great hurry to find a new bride for him. Messages were sent to all relatives, to suggest a suitable girl of some respectable family. Finally Bebbe selected a girl, whose elder sister was already married in our village. Bebbe desired the marriage to take place without delay. But before the arrangements could be completed, the girl’s mother passed away. Bebbe’s cup of misery was full. She could do nothing but accept inevitable delay. Hardly six months had passed that disturbing news about girl’s own health started leaking. She was reported to be suffering from some strange disease. She was taken to the city hospital where after an operation she died. Bebbe was stone-still. Baba Harnam Singh, after being bed-ridden for more than two years, was of late showing signs of recovery. Now he could walk with some support. Bebbe went to see him. He inquired about her welfare. She could not control her tears and started weeping profusely. “Babaji”, she sobbed, “The sapling you had planted is on the point of withering. My son, whom you had betrothed with the newly born daughter of your follower, is over fifteenth and still unmarried. Chopras are not keeping to their word. We did not inform you earlier
because of your delicate condition.” Babaji went into meditation for an endless minute. Then he spoke in measured tones, “Bishni, you need not worry any more. Your son will be married before this year is out”. Bawa Nihal Singh’s daughter-in-law was the conduit of information about chopra’s household affairs. Chopra had married his first two daughters in good houses. One boy was clerk in a civil office and the other, sub-inspector in police department. Good sons-in-law do not come cheap. He had to spend beyond his means on their dowries. For third one’s marriage he was not yet ready. But an enticing proposal came his way. He could marry her without any dowry and without even other customary expenditure. The catch being, the groom was a middle age widower encumbered by a grown up son and a marriageable daughter. Chopra fell for the bait. What he did not know at that time was that the groom was also suffering from consumption and had a few more years to live. Caught into this unenviable situation, he suffered from a guilt feeling that this misfortune had visited him for not honoring his guru’s word. He had no way to make amends as the boy meanwhile was reported to have been betrothed elsewhere. On learning that rival betrothal had fallen through and the boy was available for re-engagement, he was mentally amenable to revert to the original position. Under the changed situation, it did not take long for Babaji to bring both the parties close to each other again. ‘Mahurat’ for marriage was announced two months hence and both parties got busy in making arrangements for the marriage. A side outcome of this auspicious occurrence was a marriage proposal for Chopra’s eldest son, Devi Ditta, later pronounced as Dev Dut, from one of the invitee’s hailing from ‘Khutiala’, a place about two miles from our village, which was graciously accepted on the recommendation of their spiritual mentor. In due course, after a lavish marriage ceremony, Bebbe brought her daughter-in-law into her house with great pomp and show. The bride was thirteen years old, had passed the 7th class and could read and write in three languages – Urdu, Hindi and Punjabi. Bebbe’s own daughter would have been married by now but for the late marriage of her son. Now she devoted all her attention to it. She already had a boy in view, one Pyare Lal Marvah. He and his sister were orphans but had inherited a vast landed property of more than one hundred acres, in Kaloke village near sheikhupura. Within six months of her son’s marriage, she fixed up the marriage of her daughter also on an auspicious day divined by the priests. Came the magnificent marriage party riding on horses, but the groom carried in a carriage, under layers of blankets, attended upon by a semi-doctor. A night earlier he had caught pneumonia and had been crying with pain since then. Bebbe upbraided his elders for their callousness in bringing him in this condition instead of taking him to a hospital. They were shocked to notice utter lack of concern, about ‘mhurat’ for marriage, in Bebbe’s attitude. They wanted the ceremony to be gone through without
delay so that they could rush back for boy’s treatment. After all they were the boy’s side which custom demanded to have the last say. Bebbe told them point-blank, there was no question of any ceremony till the boy was out of danger and fit to walk on his own feet. The baratis tried to win over priest’s opinion and some local support about the inevitability of the marriage on the appointed day, but Bebbe told them firmly, that in the matter of her daughter’s future, she would not allow any one to over-ride her decision. The Marvah’s were a famous clan noted for their upmanship. It was highly galling to them to be put off by a mere woman. Making it a question of their honor and pride they refused to return without the bride and threatened to stay put till the boy was out of danger and fit to be married. Bebbe said it did not matter. She had enough provisions to feed them for a year if needed. They had no answer for that. At last the calm was restored and realities put in front. The baratis left behind half a dozen men and the rest decamped temporarily to await next call. Attending upon the ailing groom was his cousin brother, Inder Singh, who was studying medicine in second year of his medical course. He personally knew a competent doctor from his college, at Lahore, whom he dispatched an SOS. The doctor arrived with a box of medicines and proper treatment of the patient ensued. It took them ten days to control the ailment and restore him to health, which showed how seriously ill he really was. The news about his recovery was conveyed to the ‘baratis’ who had earlier left in a huff. They arrived in high spirits with customary hullabaloo. The marriage took place with all the necessary rites, except ‘mahurat’ which had to be given a go-by. Bebbe heaved a sigh of relief. She had married both her children within a year, which by any standard, was an achievement of sort she could feel proud about.
Bebbe’s father-in-law had left to her a lucrative financial structure yielding a regular income much exceeding her household’s needs. In the absence of banks, the only means to keep the extra cash, which mainly was in silver rupees, was to bury it, within the house, under unpaved floor, secured in small earthen wares, in denominations of rupees five hundred each. Quite early in life her father-in-law had associated her in this work. Now she started taking her daughter-in-law into her confidence and performing this task with her help. Our mother had never seen such wealth in her parent’s house. In fact on her last visit she had learnt that her father had mortgaged his house, to raise a loan of Rs. 500, required for the marriage of his son. She could not resist telling her mother-in-law about it. Bebbe showed grave concern on such misfortune visiting her close relative. She readily gave a pot containing Rs. 500 to our mother, asking her to give it to her father for redeeming his house. He could pay it back in leisure, she added. Mother did likewise and her parents were greatly obliged for this timely help from unexpected quarters. Later in life, when our house fell on bad times, mother on certain occasions sought financial help from her brothers and they were always too ready to assist her.
Dear Papaji
I have enjoyed this installment more than any other. This is wonderful and will become part of our family history for generations to read. Keep adding to this. I got very busy and could not call you. I have been opening and reading this many times. Good work and thankyou very much. Love You. Ambi
As stated earlier, Bebbe’s son-in-law Pyare Lal and his younger sister were orphans and were raised by their uncles, who also managed their vast property and land holdings. Soon after Pyare Lal’s marriage his sister was also married to a government servant, hailing from Gujranwala. Till this time, Pyare Lal with his wife lived with one of his uncles in a joint family arrangement. His parental house, totally un-attended, was almost in ruins. On the advice of his newly wedded wife and promised financial assistance from Bebbe, he started building a two storey house big enough for a large family in view. From time to time, Bebbe kept sending him money needed for this purpose. When the house was ready for occupation, Pyare Lal and his wife invited all the close relatives in a customary ‘Greh-pravesh’ ceremony. Bebbe’s son and daughter-in-law attended from in-law’s side with ceremonial gifts. All invitees were duly impressed with the imposing building. Our mother stored an idea in her mind to have, one day, a similar house of her own in her village.
Now that Bebbe’s son and daughter were married her main focus on life was to hope and pray for a large progeny of each for the benefit of ancestors to continue living through them. She could not do much in that regard due to early widowhood. What she failed to do herself, she sought to achieve through her children. In this she was not denied. Soon after the marriage of her son a daughter was born into the family making her a grandmother. The new-born though died without completing the first year. This was a fairly common hazard in those days but Bebbe made much fuss about it. She blamed it on the lack of care by Bhabi’s parents, whom she was visiting at that moment, in connection with her brother’s marriage. One redeeming feature in the mind of Bebbe was that her daughter-in-law hailed from a family which was richly endowed in the matter of children. Besides the large brood of Lala Barkat Ram himself, his two married daughters had had about eight children between them in a short span of time.
I remember the names of Massi Budhan ‘s children born till then as Daulat Ram, Balwant Rai, Jaswant Rai and Shiela. Out of Massi Soma’s Children I seem to remember only Behn Vidya and bhara Ragunath. Bebbe’s daughter-in-law also came up to her expectation. Before the year was out, she was again with a child. This time it was a boy – Bhara Manohar, followed two years later by a girl behn Kumari. In another two years came a boy who was named Darshan (view) who passed away after a short view. His loss was lessened by the birth of a girl to Bebbe’s daughter (Bhua Sarasti) who was named Leela. Two years later, simultaneously, were born Bimla to our Bhua and myself to my mother. Within a short period Bebbe had a handful of children whom she loved with all her might. These were her real wealth, though she had a treasure of material wealth besides, which she was disposed to grant to her kith and kin for any need. At this time, her son-in-law (Phupar Pyare Lal) paid her a visit with a view to secure a rather large amount for some supposed need. To avoid embarrassment he suggested to Bebbe to keep it under wraps from her son and daughter-in-law. It was summer when inmates were used to sleeping on the terrace. Phupar Pyare Lal however chose to sleep downstairs due to slight indisposition. Very early morning hours Bhabi heard muffled sounds of digging down in Bebbe’s room. She alerted our father about it. Bebbe was not on her bed. Baba JI and Bhabi ji went down to investigate. They found Bebbe and her son-in-law standing with two pots of Rs five hundred each near a dugged out floor. Bebbe then had to disclose the whole matter to them. Phupar Pyare Lal sheepishly left in the morning carrying the two pots. Bebbe had never found herself in such situation before. It was her own money. She had full control over it. She could give it to anyone she desired. Yet a strange thought gnawed at her mind. There was something wrong in what had happened. She should not have been persuaded to hide anything from her, family. Her son had come of age, she felt. It was time to delegate the house responsibility to him. Between her wealth and her grandchildren she would any day choose the latter. So a week after the above incident she handed over her entire holdings of gold and rupees filled pots, with their locations, to her son and daughter-in-law, over their protestations.
Out of Bebbe's relatives two frequent visitors to her house were her nephew (chacha Ram Lal) and her younger brother (Ganpat Rai). I have separately devoted a chapter on Chacha Ram Lal. Mama Ganpat Rai is another interesting character needing to be told about. He was our father's mama but we too called him mama. Among general public he was known as 'mama garha'. Garha in our dialect means ‘hail stone’. How did he come to acquire that strange appellation is a subject matter of those facts which are called stranger than fiction. In our village there was a family of ‘Irains’. ‘Irains are of muslim caste engaged in the cultivation of vegetables and fruits that grow on creepers such as water-melons. The Irains had planted an acre of this fruit. There is a special method for planting it. The seed of a water-melon stored from an earlier crop is placed in a pit, saturated with manure. Such pits are dugged out at a distance of about twelve feet from each other and are similarly prepared and seeded. An acre can contain about a hundred or so of such pits. Then they are covered with the same earth that came out of the pits and suitably watered. In due course tiny buds peep out of the earth and develop into giant creepers. Each creeper can support scores of watermelons. Each ripe watermelon weighs from eight to ten kilos. This rustic fruit consists almost of ninety per cent of sweet juice. Village children have great fascination for this fruit. No wonder such patches of field are raided by them during night despite tight vigilance and a strong fence. On one such raid, durig a moonless night, Bhara Manohar, then only about four years old, also joined the grown-up urchins. The farmer was sleeping in the middle of the field. The children carved out a way from a weaker portion of the fence and entered with all possible stealth. But one intemperate give-out signal from one of them awoke the owner who came rushing with a thick staff. All elderly children made a safe exit but bhara Manohar got caught. Because of his tender age he escaped a hit by the stick, but not before a slap on his face, which left a telling mark on his cheek.
Mama Ganpat was on one of his visits to his sister. He took his punished ward to the farmer and told him of the great wrong he had done to the distinguished house of his sister. The farmer was unrepentant and defended his action. Mama Ganpat told him you have wronged a bedi child, under the protection of Guru Nanak. I as son of Shankar Mahadev (Ganpat means Ganesh) curse you that within three days your field of water-melons will be struck by a hail storm and destroyed. Those who overheard this curse took it as an angry outburst. Yet people were not sparing from taunting him,”Where is the hail storm, Ganpat ji: We do not see even a patch of cloud. This went on for two days. On the third day Ganpat, in answer to the taunts, boldly declared, that previous night, while passing by that field, he had seen a dreadful hail- burst over that field. All you doubting toms will witness its contents withering off within a week. With this lofty claim he left the village. Everybody laughed it off as a gesture of desperation. With Ganpat off, people even almost forgot the incident. But within a few days leaves of some of the creepers started drying up. The Irain thought they needed more water, which he duly supplied. But within a weak the plants started giving a withering look. The farmer was greatly troubled and had no option but report the matter to the village people and seek their help. Everybody was baffled. Mama Ganpat’s curse, earlier treated as skepticism, now started looking a miracle. Some people even claimed that it was within a possible range for a hail-storm to strike a given field and leave all the rest without any mark. Perhaps Ganpat had succeeded in turning his word into a marvel. All efforts to save the plants failed. After a month nothing tangible was left in the field and only option was to have the field cleared of the dead plants. Ganpat Baba’s name started being taken with lot of reverence tinged with fear. While clearing the field, a strange thing was got noticed. A dead creeper when uprooted demands a very strong tug at the roots. But these stricken creepers were effortlessly coming out, without offering any resistance, as if they had no roots at all. A close examination revealed that their roots had been cut below the earth with a sharp object. Now everybody guessed that it was all Ganpat’s doing. From that day onward he came to be called ‘Mama garha’.
Dear Papaji,
I love mama Garha. Write some more about him. What did he look like. What did chacha Ram Lal look like. How did they dress. What did vadhe Baba Ji think of them. What did Bebbe look like. How did she dress. Did she dress like a widow. and how did widows dress like at that time. Was Bebbe a good cook. How did Bebbe and vadhe Bhabi Ji get along. Also write abot Bhabi Ji's parents. I remember all the stories you used to tell us abot your nanaji. Keep writing. I love reading. Write about chote Baba Ji and Kumari bhua ji; specially as they were in childhood. Waiting to read the next instalment. I cannot wait. With lots of love....Ambi.
Dear ambi,
I am sending you first instalment on bebbe after nearly a year as something to chew while i get more such instalments ready which i hope will now be regular......
Love Daddy
Somewhere in the foregoing text I have announced my birth in the fifth order of my sisters and brothers of which one sister and one brother, first and fourth in rank, died in infancy. Another girl born just after me also died in childhood. Thereafter three boys and one girl by good fortune all survived. In my very first moment of conscience I woke up in the warm lap of Bebbe clutching her loose breasts in both my hands like a monkey kid. I must be about two years and Bebbe around fifty five years old at that time. As evening shadows lengthened I waited for my mother to light up the lamp hanging on the wall. I must have watched her doing this every evening dispelling the darkness with the glow of the kerosene lamp. As she got late I started fidgeting and crying loudly, “Hai palanga – Hai palanga”. Bebbe and Bhabi tried everything to console me short of what I tried to convey through my blabbering but all this to no avail: I cried all the more afraid of enveloping darkness. By chance Bebbe passed by the side of the lamp. I extended my arm and struck the lamp with all the force of my hand saying, “Ah ga”. Instantly everybody understood me. The lamp was lighted and I clapped my hands with glee. That was my first encounter with the real world and the idea got etched on my memory lane.
As we look back on the growth of our family we discover a distinct pattern of assembly type
maternity development. Soon after her marriage my mother became pregnant almost every second year. Here is the record.
1914 – Marriage.
1916 – birth of a girl who died in infancy un-named.
1918 – birth of a boy who was named Manohar Singh.
1920 – birth of a girl named Raj Kumari.
1922 – birth of a boy Darshan Singh (died in infancy)
1924 – birth of a boy named Baldev Singh (myself)
1926 – birth of a girl Krishna (died in infancy).
Here ends mother’s first and major period of maternity and starts the tail end with child births happening once every third year, as follows.
1929 – birth of a boy named Chaman Singh.
1932 – birth of a boy named Kuldeep Singh
1935 – birth of a boy named Mohinder singh
1938 – birth of a girl named Kailash Kumari.
It will be noted that amongst the six closely spaced children born during the first period only three survived but of the wider spaced four children in the last period all survived. Barring one or two all the deliveries took place at our village at the hands of a well-built sturdy mid-wife, without any birth related complication. This woman was once famously described by one of my cousin brothers in his native tongue as “(uh jehri bachay kadthi hai) – that one who pulls out children from nowhere”.
This second set of dates was tabulated by me taking Kailash’s year of birth as 1938 as given in her official record. The other day I happened to check with Mohinder about his year of birth. He told me that he was born in 1932. When asked to explain the discrepancies he clarified that after partition of the country when our family shifted to Simla Kailash was about twelve years old. As her home education in the village was quite rudimentary she could be admitted only in one of the primary classes. Her age in the school was therefore given as of 9 years to protect her from students’ taunts. Building on this, Kuldip’s year of birth should be 1930 and Chaman’s of 1928. It was customary in those days to show the children as younger by one or two years. Besides as Chaman followed me to sheikhupura into his 5th
Class when I entered my 9th class he may be younger to me by 4 and not 5 years.
The crux of the matter is that the pattern of children’s birth in our house after all remained the same throughout. It seems that when Bebbe handed over her wealth to her son and daughter-in-law she entered into a covenant with them that they will give her in return thereof a child every 2nd year. This they faithfully did. But this heavy burden sadly told upon mother’s health rather badly. Her body muscles constantly ached needing to be pressed by the mid-wife and in her absence by her own children. This condition lasted long after her maternity period was over. In ‘Bedi family journal’ blog her grand-daughter Ambi has eloquently described her grand-mother’s much felt need for bodily relief in the following words.
“ If anyone ever happened to inquire about Bhabi Ji’s health they got a long list of ailments starting from her ever present joint pain to that pesky night cough and everything in between. She spent the day giving voice to her suffering in the form of short expletives and long sighs. Any time we sat near her she would slowly guide our hands to her joints that needed to be massaged. Bablee, my little sister was a regular recruit for this joint therapy. She was too little to be effective with her hands so she had to get up and walk on Bhabi ji’s legs. To keep balance she held Bhabi Ji’s stick that walked along with her on the floor next to the cot. Bablee did not like this at all. She escaped from it by spending as little time at home as possible; visiting all the neighborhood homes that did not have old visiting grandmothers. When at home she diligently spent the time doing schoolwork. However, there was still time left that she could not fill with anything. That is when Bhabi Ji would catch her. Bablee performed this duty morosely. Bhabi Ji sensed this and resented it. Bablee thought five to ten minutes of kneading Bhabi Ji’s body more than enough. Bhabi Ji liked the activity to go on for hours. Bablee was too timid to say no or to end it without permission. Bhabi Ji saw her as too puny to give any notice to her bored expression. Biji usually had to rescue her by calling her for some chore in the kitchen. Bablee was Biji’s ‘damsel-in-distress’. Biji had not outgrown babying her yet. That was one big strike against Bablee in Bhabi Ji’s book. In addition she was convinced that Bablee, out of spite, did not put all the weight on Bhabi Ji’s legs during massaging. When Biji heard this she was livid. When Papaji heard it (from Biji) he could not speak for good ten minutes due to the fit of laughter that burst out of him. With tears of mirth flowing down his eyes he tried, without success, to explain to Bhabi Ji that it was not possible to hold one’s weight back while standing on something. But Bhabi Ji was no scholar of physics and remained convinced that Bablee was somehow cheating her of the benefit of the full weight. She called her ‘khhachree’ - a conniving mule”.
In this narrative we will often be jumping back and forth as past gets mixed with future. So back to my childhood. Bebbe and bhabiji shared the upkeep of newly borns between themselves. A new-born babe for reasons of breast feed remained with Bhabi ji for first year and a half and then came over to Bebbe.
Though Bhabi ji still looked after its essential needs like bathing and dressing but with the birth of a new child her share in its upkeep gradually lessened and Bebbe took it over for all practical purposes.The other house work was also shared between Bebbe and Bhabi and as Kumari grew up she too started extending her hand and thereby learning the art of house-keeping. Bhabi ji would get up early in the morning and start churning curd to turn it into lassi, separating handful of butter for family’s cooking needs. Later when she developed taste for Gurbani she would recite it sonorously rhythmizing it with the churning strokes. Bebbe meanwhile milked one or two buffaloes if Babaji had left for the fields rather early. Later she will keep the ‘Tandur’ hot and ready to bake afgani rotis. Only Bebbe could thrust her hand and arm into the burning furnace tilting and turning the ‘rotis’ into proper baking condition . Bhabiji could make ‘chapaties’ on ‘Tawa’ placed on a small earthen ‘Chulha’ fed with burning wooden sticks. She never learnt the use of ‘Tandur’ nor how to milk a buffalo. Bebbe sometimes taunted her for this. She ascribed it to the disadvantage of being a townswoman. Though both hailed from the same town, Bebbe had left it while still a child. So she did not consider herself a townswoman.
As a new child appeared every second year, he or she had the best of Bhabi ji for nearly two years and then best of Bebbe for the next two years. As the first period with Bhabiji passed in a state of unconsciousness, it was the later part spent with Bebbe that each one of us remembered and cherished the most. Due to a fortuitous circumstance in which both the children, one above me and the other below me, died in infancy, this prized period in my case got greatly lengthened. So I had the best of Bebbe for much greater time as compared to my other brothers and sisters. Consequently my bond with her was also deeper. Bhara Manohar had left for Sheikhupura when I was only three years old. Kumari about seven years old then was traditionally stay at home and emotionally attached to her mother. So it was Bebbe and me sleeping and going everywhere together till Chaman grew up sufficiently to take up my place. Bebbe took great care of me. When I went outside to play with children of my age she would remain watching us from a corner and would never leave me off her sight. She would not feel at rest till she had taken me back to the house. In the evening I used to accompany her to the cattle shed to milk the buffaloes. We normally kept two buffaloes in milk yielding condition or one into milk and the other expecting the birth of a new calf and coming into the season of milk once more. Bebbe carried a big vessel made of copper to contain the milk. It was called ‘Dohni’ that literally means ‘milk container’. It had large base of increased capacity with comparatively narrow mouth so designed that if a moody buffalo while being milked gave it a kick and it dropped down, only a small quantity of milk would get spilled. Along with ‘Dohni we also carried a tumbler whose use and purpose was known only to us.
Towards the end of milking process, Bebbe would serve a tumbler full of warm and fresh milk to me and then drink likewise herself. Sometimes she used to put the tip of the buffalo’s teat in my mouth and send the dart of milk to strike at my throat nerves that produced an acute tinkling sensation which both of us greatly enjoyed. Our feast did make a dent in the quantity of milk that we brought home. Bhabiji would sometimes grumble in hushed tones that Baba ji always brought home more milk than brought by us but she would graciously ascribe it to Bebbe’s inexperience in milking the buffalos. Thus our secret remained a secret and Bhabi ji enjoyed the satisfaction of having found a fault in Bebbe’s work.
Bebbe and Bhabiji never quarreled openly like traditional mother and daughter-in-laws. But they did exchange cold vibes initiated by Bebbe and followed by Bhabiji. Any effort at pleasantry by Bhabiji will be nipped in the bud by Bebbe. Any offer of money or gift was also flatly refused by Bebbe. She almost lived like an udassin – a person unattached to worldly needs and comforts. But she did have certain needs, like ‘Naswar’(snuff) to which she was addicted, that could not be avoided. So once in a while she would call up the local grosser and give him a measured quantity of grain from the grain store maintained on the ground floor to square his account. I would try my best to cover her steps but sometimes Kumari would watch the transaction and duly report it to Bhabiji who in her turn inform Babaji about it. Babaji would almost apologetically suggest to Bebbe that local shopkeepers gave an unfair exchange rate for the grain and as such it was advisable to pay them in money kind. Bebbe seemed not to hear nor did she ever act upon this advice.
Bebbe had handed over all the gold arnaments to Babaji except a pair of ‘murkian’ (ear-rings) which she had been wearing from time im-memorial. It was a finely crafted piece of jewelery, almost six inches long and weighing about 5 tolas hanging royally in Bebbe’s ears. During all this time it was gradually cutting through the lobe and one side murki cutting right through almost dropped down on the ground. It was winter season when quilts are out. Bebbe put 0ff the pair and temporarily sewed it up in the corner of her quilt. In due course the quilts got packed and stored to be taken out next winter. Meanwhile Bebbe totally forgot where she had kept the ‘murkian’. A wild goose search ensued for the pair without much avail. It was common for the children to exchange left out broken pieces of metal for the candy and I too some times indulged in such bargains. Kumari helpfully suggested that Baldev having taken the gold jewelry as any other piece of metal might have exchanged it for the candy. Without realizing the seriousness of the situation I almost accepted the blame finding no use in defending myself. In fact I seemed to derive a sort of satisfaction that by taking the blame on myself, I had solved one of the chafing problems of the house. Came next winter and quilts were out once more. It was bhabiji who while handling Bebbe’s quilt felt a prick on her finger.
To find its cause she discovered the long lost pair of murkian. To celebrate the occasion and to give everybody a surprise she called the whole family together at night to disclose the find. All were overjoyed except Bebbe. She picked me up, hugged me to her bosom with tears in her eyes and refused to take back the pair as she said it had caused so much pain to the family.
Dear Papaji,
I love your new post. Hope the next instalment will not be a year later. Your writing has improved rather than deteriorated. I love the personal touches. Tell me what did Bebbe wear at home; what did she wear when she went out. What were her hobbies. What did she think of Bhabiji's reciting prayers. Was she religious. Did she teach you about religion or God. Did she take bath every day or once in a while. Was she clean and tidy person or comfortable and not worrying about her looks. Did Bebbe and Babaji get along. What is snuff? Do sikhs snuff? Is that like paan or like cigarettes. Did Bebbe call herself Sikh or Hindu. Did she talk about your grandfather? What did she think about muslims? What did she think about lower caste people. Was she very caste conscious or not? Did she like Kumari bhua ji. Did she have her own room or a place in the house that was hers. Did she have a trunk or her own bed or an almari. I wish I could meet her in person. I wish we had a picture of her. Keep writing and adding to the story. Love you...Your Ambi.
Let me please do my Pythagoras theorem first which in the present case is ‘snuff’. It is the noun from the verb ‘sniff’. It comes in the form of powder made of some exotic elements in which tobacco is one of the chief
active ingredient. A pinch of this powder is taken between the thumb and the fore finger, put near the opening of the nose and inhaled forcefully through each nostril by turn. This way it reaches the internal membrane of the brain and imparts a pleasant kick. Much before the cigarette was invented, the snuff was a rage among European nobility and the gentry. It was supposed to cure the common cold by clearing the clogged passage of the nose. Its use also became a form of snobbery to slap rank. French nobility and Napolean used it, so did English parliamentarians and their kings and queens.
A historian says in gest,
“It was not so much the dearth of gun powder but the want of snuff powder that caused Napolean to lose the battle of Waterloo”
It became a fashion to carry snuff in ornamental containers made of silver and gold, though Bebbe kept it in an ordinary tin ‘dibya’. The custom appears to have been brought to India by the British. Gradually it spread to villages. In our village besides Bebbe and her elder sister-in-law, a few other old women also used it. I don’t remember to have seen any of the men using it. Nor anyone else in our family took to it. I vaguely remember to have seen Bhua Sarasti taking it. Weather she acquired the habit in our house or after marriage at her in-laws is not known. To my knowledge my ‘Nana’ and Bimla’s ‘Nani’ were also addicted to it. It turned user’s mucus to dark brown color and seemed to put her or him in a special class.
As for Bebbe’s dress, she wore only a long ‘dhoti’ or Sarri at home covering the upper half of her body with its ‘pallu’. She felt comfortable without ‘blouse’ or shirt. I don’t think she bathed daily, though Bhabiji did, but to me she appeared clean. As she carried me on her hip I used to slither through the folds of her sari to feel the touch of her bare skin rendered slippery with perspiration. Outside the home she wore ‘gaghra’ (Rajasthani style) with blouse and ‘dopatta’. Whenever she went to town or visited some marriage function she wore formal ‘Salwar and kameez’.
Bebbe had rather dim view about Bhabiji’s culinary skills and as far as possible kept kitchen chores to herself. In spare time she worked on ‘charkha’ turning out fine balls of thread. Bhabiji and Kumari also acquired love of ‘charkha from Bebbe. For Bhabiji it was a love of labour for whole life. She kept working on it till her last breath.
Bebbe could neither read nor write. Gurbaani was as distant to her as the vedic mantaras. For all practical purposes she was a pagan and believed in no formal religion. She believed only in forces of nature which she could see, touch and feel. In place of God she believed in ‘Mata Rani’ which literally means ‘Queen mother’ or ‘Mother Goddess’ who according to her controlled our destinies and welfare. On the southern periphery of our village there was a small monument dedicated to ‘Mata Rani’. Whenever any of us fell ill Bebbe would take us there to propitiate the Goddess. In fact the whole populace of the village was more Hindu in rituals and tradition than Sikh. For all social obligations there was a Brahmin priest. Even in the main Gurudwara idols of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses remained placed along with the Granth Sahib till 1924, the year of my birth. Then under the influence of Akali movement, these idols were transferred to the Hindu temple. But marriages and other social obligations continued being performed under the Vedic rites, till the Partition of the country. Bebbe went to the Hindu temple as much as to the Gurudwara and patronized both. All social festivals like Diwali, Baisakhi, Lohri, Rakhi etc. were celebrated but Ramnoumi and Krishan janam ashtmi
Were replaced by Guru Nanak’s and Guru Gobind Singh’s birthdays which were celebrated with gusto. One peculiar feature of our celebrations was Guru Nanak’s Saraad ceremony which I did not see being observed anywhere else. Another unorthodox custom was the finishing of Gurudwara session with the Aarti (Gagan me thaal) in place of Anand Sahib. The Aarti was sung in great style, as in Hindu temples, led by three elders, one from each of the three streets, who held in circular rotation, the salver containing lighted earthen ‘divaas’ with floral offerings, joined by the whole congregation on their feet. Our south street was represented by Sardar Gopal Singh the elder brother of our Grandfather. Women mostly occupied the back seat and were not seen in the forefront of any organizing committee but they outnumbered men in so far as audience was concerned.
As for Bebbe’s dress, she wore only a long ‘dhoti’ or Sarri at home covering the upper half of her body with its ‘pallu’. She felt comfortable without ‘blouse’ or shirt. I don’t think she bathed daily, though Bhabiji did, but to me she appeared clean. As she carried me on her hip I used to slither through the folds of her sari to feel the touch of her bare skin rendered slippery with perspiration. Outside the home she wore ‘gaghra’ (Rajasthani style) with blouse and ‘dopatta’. Whenever she went to town or visited some marriage function she wore formal ‘Salwar and kameez’.
Bebbe had rather dim view about Bhabiji’s culinary skills and as far as possible kept kitchen chores to herself. In spare time she worked on ‘charkha’ turning out fine balls of thread. Bhabiji and Kumari also acquired love of ‘charkha from Bebbe. For Bhabiji it was a love of labour for whole life. She kept working on it till her last breath.
Bebbe could neither read nor write. Gurbaani was as distant to her as the vedic mantaras. For all practical purposes she was a pagan and believed in no formal religion. She believed only in forces of nature which she could see, touch and feel. In place of God she believed in ‘Mata Rani’ which literally means ‘Queen mother’ or ‘Mother Goddess’ who according to her controlled our destinies and welfare. On the southern periphery of our village there was a small monument dedicated to ‘Mata Rani’. Whenever any of us fell ill Bebbe would take us there to propitiate the Goddess. In fact the whole populace of the village was more Hindu in rituals and tradition than Sikh. For all social obligations there was a Brahmin priest. Even in the main Gurudwara idols of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses remained placed along with the Granth Sahib till 1924, the year of my birth. Then under the influence of Akali movement, these idols were transferred to the Hindu temple. But marriages and other social obligations continued being performed under the Vedic rites, till the Partition of the country. Bebbe went to the Hindu temple as much as to the Gurudwara and patronized both. All social festivals like Diwali, Baisakhi, Lohri, Rakhi etc. were celebrated but Ramnoumi and Krishan janam ashtmi
Were replaced by Guru Nanak’s and Guru Gobind Singh’s birthdays which were celebrated with gusto. One peculiar feature of our celebrations was Guru Nanak’s Saraad ceremony which I did not see being observed anywhere else. Another unorthodox custom was the finishing of Gurudwara session with the Aarti (Gagan me thaal) in place of Anand Sahib. The Aarti was sung in great style, as in Hindu temples, led by three elders, one from each of the three streets, who held in circular rotation, the salver containing lighted earthen ‘divaas’ with floral offerings, joined by the whole congregation on their feet. Our south street was represented by Sardar Gopal Singh the elder brother of our Grandfather. Women mostly occupied the back seat and were not seen in the forefront of any organizing committee but they outnumbered men in so far as audience was concerned.
As for Bebbe’s dress, she wore only a long ‘dhoti’ or Sarri at home covering the upper half of her body with its ‘pallu’. She felt comfortable without ‘blouse’ or shirt. I don’t think she bathed daily, though Bhabiji did, but to me she appeared clean. As she carried me on her hip I used to slither through the folds of her sari to feel the touch of her bare skin rendered slippery with perspiration. Outside the home she wore ‘gaghra’ (Rajasthani style) with blouse and ‘dopatta’. Whenever she went to town or visited some marriage function she wore formal ‘Salwar and kameez’.
Bebbe had rather dim view about Bhabiji’s culinary skills and as far as possible kept kitchen chores to herself. In spare time she worked on ‘charkha’ turning out fine balls of thread. Bhabiji and Kumari also acquired love of ‘charkha from Bebbe. For Bhabiji it was a love of labour for whole life. She kept working on it till her last breath.
Bebbe could neither read nor write. Gurbaani was as distant to her as the vedic mantaras. For all practical purposes she was a pagan and believed in no formal religion. She believed only in forces of nature which she could see, touch and feel. In place of God she believed in ‘Mata Rani’ which literally means ‘Queen mother’ or ‘Mother Goddess’ who according to her controlled our destinies and welfare. On the southern periphery of our village there was a small monument dedicated to ‘Mata Rani’. Whenever any of us fell ill Bebbe would take us there to propitiate the Goddess. In fact the whole populace of the village was more Hindu in rituals and tradition than Sikh. For all social obligations there was a Brahmin priest. Even in the main Gurudwara idols of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses remained placed along with the Granth Sahib till 1924, the year of my birth. Then under the influence of Akali movement, these idols were transferred to the Hindu temple. But marriages and other social obligations continued being performed under the Vedic rites, till the Partition of the country. Bebbe went to the Hindu temple as much as to the Gurudwara and patronized both. All social festivals like Diwali, Baisakhi, Lohri, Rakhi etc. were celebrated but Ramnoumi and Krishan janam ashtmi
Were replaced by Guru Nanak’s and Guru Gobind Singh’s birthdays which were celebrated with gusto. One peculiar feature of our celebrations was Guru Nanak’s Saraad ceremony which I did not see being observed anywhere else. Another unorthodox custom was the finishing of Gurudwara session with the Aarti (Gagan me thaal) in place of Anand Sahib. The Aarti was sung in great style, as in Hindu temples, led by three elders, one from each of the three streets, who held in circular rotation, the salver containing lighted earthen ‘divaas’ with floral offerings, joined by the whole congregation on their feet. Our south street was represented by Sardar Gopal Singh the elder brother of our Grandfather. Women mostly occupied the back seat and were not seen in the forefront of any organizing committee but they outnumbered men in so far as audience was concerned.
As for Bebbe’s dress, she wore only a long ‘dhoti’ or Sarri at home covering the upper half of her body with its ‘pallu’. She felt comfortable without ‘blouse’ or shirt. I don’t think she bathed daily, though Bhabiji did, but to me she appeared clean. As she carried me on her hip I used to slither through the folds of her sari to feel the touch of her bare skin rendered slippery with perspiration. Outside the home she wore ‘gaghra’ (Rajasthani style) with blouse and ‘dopatta’. Whenever she went to town or visited some marriage function she wore formal ‘Salwar and kameez’.
Bebbe had rather dim view about Bhabiji’s culinary skills and as far as possible kept kitchen chores to herself. In spare time she worked on ‘charkha’ turning out fine balls of thread. Bhabiji and Kumari also acquired love of ‘charkha from Bebbe. For Bhabiji it was a love of labour for whole life. She kept working on it till her last breath.
Bebbe could neither read nor write. Gurbaani was as distant to her as the vedic mantaras. For all practical purposes she was a pagan and believed in no formal religion. She believed only in forces of nature which she could see, touch and feel. In place of God she believed in ‘Mata Rani’ which literally means ‘Queen mother’ or ‘Mother Goddess’ who according to her controlled our destinies and welfare. On the southern periphery of our village there was a small monument dedicated to ‘Mata Rani’. Whenever any of us fell ill Bebbe would take us there to propitiate the Goddess. In fact the whole populace of the village was more Hindu in rituals and tradition than Sikh. For all social obligations there was a Brahmin priest. Even in the main Gurudwara idols of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses remained placed along with the Granth Sahib till 1924, the year of my birth. Then under the influence of Akali movement, these idols were transferred to the Hindu temple. But marriages and other social obligations continued being performed under the Vedic rites, till the Partition of the country. Bebbe went to the Hindu temple as much as to the Gurudwara and patronized both. All social festivals like Diwali, Baisakhi, Lohri, Rakhi etc. were celebrated but Ramnoumi and Krishan janam ashtmi
Were replaced by Guru Nanak’s and Guru Gobind Singh’s birthdays which were celebrated with gusto. One peculiar feature of our celebrations was Guru Nanak’s Saraad ceremony which I did not see being observed anywhere else. Another unorthodox custom was the finishing of Gurudwara session with the Aarti (Gagan me thaal) in place of Anand Sahib. The Aarti was sung in great style, as in Hindu temples, led by three elders, one from each of the three streets, who held in circular rotation, the salver containing lighted earthen ‘divaas’ with floral offerings, joined by the whole congregation on their feet. Our south street was represented by Sardar Gopal Singh the elder brother of our Grandfather. Women mostly occupied the back seat and were not seen in the forefront of any organizing committee but they outnumbered men in so far as audience was concerned.
As for Bebbe’s dress, she wore only a long ‘dhoti’ or Sarri at home covering the upper half of her body with its ‘pallu’. She felt comfortable without ‘blouse’ or shirt. I don’t think she bathed daily, though Bhabiji did, but to me she appeared clean. As she carried me on her hip I used to slither through the folds of her sari to feel the touch of her bare skin rendered slippery with perspiration. Outside the home she wore ‘gaghra’ (Rajasthani style) with blouse and ‘dopatta’. Whenever she went to town or visited some marriage function she wore formal ‘Salwar and kameez’.
Bebbe had rather dim view about Bhabiji’s culinary skills and as far as possible kept kitchen chores to herself. In spare time she worked on ‘charkha’ turning out fine balls of thread. Bhabiji and Kumari also acquired love of ‘charkha from Bebbe. For Bhabiji it was a love of labour for whole life. She kept working on it till her last breath.
Bebbe could neither read nor write. Gurbaani was as distant to her as the vedic mantaras. For all practical purposes she was a pagan and believed in no formal religion. She believed only in forces of nature which she could see, touch and feel. In place of God she believed in ‘Mata Rani’ which literally means ‘Queen mother’ or ‘Mother Goddess’ who according to her controlled our destinies and welfare. On the southern periphery of our village there was a small monument dedicated to ‘Mata Rani’. Whenever any of us fell ill Bebbe would take us there to propitiate the Goddess.
In fact the whole populace of the village was more Hindu in rituals and tradition than Sikh. For all social obligations there was a Brahmin priest. Even in the main Gurudwara idols of the Hindu Gods and Goddesses remained placed along with the Granth Sahib till 1924, the year of my birth. Then under the influence of Akali movement, these idols were transferred to the Hindu temple. But marriages and other social obligations continued being performed under the Vedic rites, till the Partition of the country. Bebbe went to the Hindu temple as much as to the Gurudwara and patronized both. All social festivals like Diwali, Baisakhi, Lohri, Rakhi etc. were celebrated but Ramnoumi and Krishan janam ashtmi
Were replaced by Guru Nanak’s and Guru Gobind Singh’s birthdays which were celebrated with gusto. One peculiar feature of our celebrations was Guru Nanak’s Saraad ceremony which I did not see being observed anywhere else.
Another unorthodox custom was the finishing of Gurudwara session with the Aarti (Gagan me thaal) in place of Anand Sahib. The Aarti was sung in great style, as in Hindu temples, led by three elders, one from each of the three streets, who held in circular rotation, the salver containing lighted earthen ‘divaas’ with floral offerings, joined by the whole congregation on their feet. Our south street was represented by Sardar Gopal Singh the elder brother of our Grandfather. Women mostly occupied the back seat and were not seen in the forefront of any organizing committee but they outnumbered men in so far as audience was concerned.
Bebbe did not have a room to herself, nor an exclusive almirah, nor any one else did have such facility. The family clothes and other personal articles were kept and arranged by bhabiji and Kumari in available recesses and supplied when required. I think Bebbe at least knew where her things were kept. Bebbe loved all of us but she loved and cared for her own son the most. Babaji in turn showed great respect for her mother and was never seen to have shouted at her. As a matter of fact she possessed such strong will and character that no one dared cross the limit with her except one whom she neither forgot nor forgave till her death. Her relations with Bhabiji and Kumari were neither very warm nor very cold. Though with Kumari they warmed up after her marriage and in last few months of her life Bebbe and bhabiji got very close to each other. Hope I have covered all your points. Some of the questions relating to muslims and lower castes I have dealt with in detail in my writings on Babaji or elsewhere. In next instalment I shall cover matters relating to Bharaji’s and Kumari’s marriages and my corresponding years in school.
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