Sundri

After a few days, just about sunset time, when Sundri was returning from the village, and was crossing the pathway to her destination, she heard some one shout "stop". As she turned around, she saw four armed Turkish sepoys coming from behind a tree. She was taken aback at this ambush, but she put up a brave face. In a moment they surrounded her. Sundri's hand instantly reached the handle of her dagger which was hidden under her scarf, and she mustered courage and asked: "Who are you and what do you want?"

Sepoy : Tell us the place where the Sikhs are?
Sundri : I cannot tell where they are.
Sepoy : If you do not tell us, we shall outrage your modesty.
Sundri : One who dares to touch me will be killed.
Sepoy : We will kill you first.
Sundri : I do not care.

As Sundri looked around, she saw one sepoy approaching her. As he came close, Sundri recognised him as the Turk whom she had picked up in a wounded condition near that spot earlier and whom she had tended in the camp for a month till his recovery. She felt hopeful that this sepoy would come to her rescue and would certainly help her. As he faced Sundri, he saluted her. The other sepoys stepped aside. He respectfully asked her about her health and well-being. Sundri also politely asked him: "Who are these sepoys and why have they surrounded me and spoken so rudely?"

The Turk replied: "O lady, you do not know who I am. Firstly, let me tell you about myself so that you can understand the situation. I am the servant of the Nawab (ruler) who had captured you from your village. Two months back I got wounded while fighting with a Sikh and nearing death when you passed by and took me to your camp. First I did not recognise you, but after a few days I realised that you were the same lady whom our Nawab had captured, but you were rescued by the Sikhs from the mosque. When I reached my home after my recovery due to your care, I spoke about it to the Nawab. He insisted that I should tell him the place where you live or bring you back to him for which I would be rewarded with five thousand rupees. If I did not do so, he would kill me. For many days, I wandered in the jungle and the forest but I could not find your habitation. Then I remembered that you taken me wounded from this spot. So I thought that sooner or later you would pass this way. Therefore, I decided to stay at this spot. Since many days I and five sepoys have been waiting for this ambush to capture you. God, the Merciful, be thanked for he has fulfilled my desire. Now I request you that you should show some concern for your youth and beauty. Why are you wasting your time with the homeless Sikhs? You work like a slave from morning to till night and get no return. This is the time to enjoy the comforts of life. When will you have the best things of life. Now this powerful Nawab will be your bonded slave. You will live in a palace and lord over people. Enjoy life, come with me, there is a horse for you to ride upon."

Sundri felt nervous; her heart was depressed, but she spoke with confidence: "Is this the return for my service to you? Is this the compensation for my goodness?

Turk: "I appreciate your goodness to me and I will not do anything sinister to harm you. I want to change you from a beggar to a princess, from an infidel to a believer. To fool the infidels is permissible." "Now be quick and waste no time."

Sundri: "Through you may not even recite the Namaz (Muslim prayer) by mistake, but you will attribute all your tyranny to the command of your religion. O ungrateful person! Your values are absolutely wrong. Remember that your master will not get what he desires. I am a lioness and not a low or vulgar woman to be lured by temptation or greed. I shall give up my life, but not my faith."

Turk: "We very well know your obstinacy and arrogance. Now remember that unlike last time, we shall give you no respite. As soon as you reach the city, you will have to enter the Nawab's house."

Sundri: "Well, but who can dare to take me from here. First think and then speak. I regret once again that you have such a stony heart in which there is not an iota of gratitude or compassion. As a human being perpetrating this injustice, does it not cross your mind who is the one you are acting against. Listen to me attentively. If you leave me alone, God will bless you; if you do not leave me alone, I will sacrifice my life. The choice is yours."

As soon as the Turk uttered these words, one sepoy grabbed Sundri by her left arm, but with great agility and promptness, this brave lady drew her dagger and pushed it deep into the neck of her grappler. It was almost a miracle, even lightning could not act faster. The wounded sepoy bled on the ground and he struggled between life and death.

Seeing this, the other sepoy caught her right hand in which she held the dagger, from behind; and the third sepoy caught her from the waist and lifted her up; the forth sepoy grabbed her left arm. Behind the trees was a buggy-like palanquin with a few bearers. Instantly Sundri was thrown into the palanquin; the doors thereof were bolted and once again she became a prisoner of the Turks. In a moment, the tyrants vanished from the scene.

A mystic mendicant is walking on the road; he wears a long shirt from which rags dangled; he has a begging bowl in hand and a loose sheet covering his thighs and legs. He has a pony which he sometimes rides and sometimes leads by the hand; sometimes he sings a song in Arabic and sometimes in Persian; sometimes he sings lines from the romance of Heer-Ranjha and occasionally verses of Guru Nanak, but one line which he utters with great devotion is: "In what lane shall I find my beautiful Lord?"

As he was going towards the river, a Muslim met him and said: "Sir, do not go thither. Both the banks of the ford are guarded by the Sikhs, for their troops are crossing the river; you should not go in that direction, lest you might be ground like worms in grams in a mill."

Man: "Sir, go along the lower footpath and then you will reach a spot where two or three boatmen are hiding. They will take you across the river in their boat."

Man: "O man of God! Yes, a little while ago a Moghul along with his family in a palanquin went that way. I am standing at this spot so that if any pious man wants to go by ferry, I may guide him to a suitable crossing so that he may avoid the Sikhs."

Fakir: " There used to be some sepoys for guarding the ferry service." Man: "The Sikhs on arrival imprisoned them."

Fakir (mendicant) got so scared when he heard the name of the Sikhs that he jumped on his pony and galloped away to the small pathway and soon reached the little known ferry point on the river. He saw a boat fully loaded and therefore, shouted to the boat-man: "For God's sake, take me on your boat." In that boat there was a Muslim Chief and the palanquin of his wife, along with horses and servants. The Chief paid no attention to the Fakir's entreaties. However, boatman are generally afraid of religious mendicants, because they firmly believe that boats capsize on account of the curses of such men. In short, on the intervention of the boat-man, the Fakir got a seat; he pushed the pony to a corner of the boat. The boat-man unmoored the boat and set it afloat.

At this time a few clouds could be seen in the sky and a gentle breeze blew. The Fakir in his own frenzy began reciting verses of the Qoran. In that excitement, he also sang the following line: "In what lane shall I find my beautiful Lord?"

The river's stillness, the floating clouds, the pleasant whiffs of breeze and the Fakir's rapturous melody produced a magical effect. All people felt happy with the Fakir. The Muslim Chief sat still, listening to the songs and began waving his head joyfully, but strangely enough his begum (wife) in the palanquin was overcome by sorrow and heaved such a sad and low sigh that the Fakir got nervous and began to recite again the Qoranic verse ('Lahaul wala') invoking God's protection. When the Muslim Chief observed this, he said to the Fakir: "O Sir, it will all go well. You keep singing the last verse."

On hearing the remark, the Fakir sang the last verse again, and the begum again moaned and whispered an audible: "Alas!"

At this moment, the Fakir stopped singing and told the Muslim Chief: "You are a Kafir (an infidel) at heart. You are ill-treating your wife." God has never ordained that one should treat one's wife harshly. The Chief began to give explanations, but the Fakir did not listen to him. His ears turned towards the palanquin and his face towards the Chief. He could now and then hear a groan coming from inside the palanquin. The Fakir closed his eyes and then for some moments he sat like a yogi in a trance. When he opened his eyes he said to the Chief: "Sir, the lady in the palanquin is not your wife; she is a strange woman: her hands and feet are tied and I have known all this through my mystic lore." The Chief was taken aback and respectfully touched the Fakir's feet and said: "You are a messenger of God. You are a rare mystic."

By and by, the wind began to howl; the waves rose up furiously; the boat drifted up and down. Now all people touched the Fakir's feet and requested him to save them from disaster and prevent the boat from capsizing. The Fakir addressed the Chief: "Look, the lady inside the palanquin should be freed; take her out and untie her limbs. Throw the palanquin in the river. Throw all the things in the boat overboard except my pony and your horse." The Chief ordered accordingly.

Life is dear to everyone; the Fakir's orders was carried out. On seeing the face of the lady who came out of the palanquin, the Fakir repeated: "Quick, remove her fetters; she has the face of a pious lady; be quick."

Now the wind became mild and the boat being lighter floated on steadily till it reached the bank. All got down at a spacious spot. The four carriers and a rider were sent to the nearest habitation to bring another palanquin and to arrange the supply of horses and food-stuffs. The Muslim Chief sat down alone reclining on a pillow, and kept his waist belt on the carpet in front of him.

The lady sitting opposite the Muslim Chief was drowned in a sea of sorrow. On the other side was the Fakir who started singing once again. After he had sung a litany, the lady interrupting him said: "Sir, you seem to be a man of God and a person of compassion, I want justice."

Then the lady related the entire story, namely that the Amir (Chief) was once lying wounded in a jungle and she tended him more than a mother for over a month. Now he had arrested her and was taking her to his home. The Amir, however, gave a different interpretation of events: that he wanted to compensate her for her services and therefore wanted to make her the wife of his own master and thereby raise her social status. After hearing both the versions, the Fakir smiled and said: "O lady, you are a liar: the Amir has told the truth."

When the lady heard this unfair decision, her eyes became red with anger. The Fakir was lost in his thoughts, while the Amir was waving his head in a frenzy. In her extreme rage, the lioness-Sundri-promptly drew the sword from her sheath and stood up with the naked sword as if Durga had risen to destroy the demons. The Amir was stunned and putting his trembling hands against his face wanted to find some easy way of escape when the Durga-like Sundri dealt him such a sword-stroke with both her hands that right from his shoulder to his waist, his body was cut-like the position of a Hindu sacred thread- and he fell to the ground, hovering between life and death. This lion-hearted lady threw away the sword and untying the Amir's horse from the tree-trunk, mounted it and turned the reins toward the upward course of the river. The once-bitten, twice shy Sundri, the brave Sundri, the pious Sundri disappeared from view in a moment...

When Sundri escaped riding a horse and had gone quite a long distance, she came across no Khalsa-group and she did not know their location. Every moment she was apprehensive that her enemies might be following her; she regretted that her dagger had been left in the stomach of the sepoy whom she had killed on the hill and that she had thrown her sword away after killing the ungrateful Amir on the river-bank. She had now no weapon with her and if any new trouble arose, how would she face the situation? She felt imbued with a fresh moral force that Guru Gobind Singh had saved her from such ordeals. He would help her at all times. So she should not worry at all. It was remarkable that the Sikh lady had such a strong heart and self-confidence.

Hungry and weary of travel, exhausted by the rigours of the weeks spent in jail, bewildered by the separation from her brother and wandering alone in remote deserted places, Sundri was consoling herself and supported her frustrated heart with noble thoughts and that the great Guru was her true support everywhere. Suddenly she saw a lake full of clear water from a distance, and birds of different colours playing on the bank. Charmed by the placid water, Sundri automatically stopped, tied her horse to a tree-trunk and had a quick bath and drank some water. Then she recited the prayers (Japji and Hazare-de-Shabad). Thereafter she recited other prayers and became so engrossed that she appeared like a statue. Ducks and storks and many kinds of waterfowls began to move fearlessly around her. Sundri sat absorbed in her meditation, repeating God's name for some time. However, she felt it were only a few moments. Her mind was free from tension or sorrow and was enjoying inner bliss. Absorbed in the Holy Name, Sundri was either preoccupied with her innerself or she felt the near-presence of the Guru with whom her consciousness was linked.

>From this ecstatic state, Sundri gained her consciousness when she was disturbed by the sound of bullet-shots. When she opened her eyes, she saw ten to twenty riders shooting birds on the other side of the lake. Their shots hit a ruddy goose nearby. Sundri felt nervous and jumped on her horse. She recognised the Turks and with them was the Muslim ruler who had caused so much harassment to her earlier. Sundri trembled, but gathering her wits and mustering courage, she spurred the horse and galloped away. On the other hand, the hunters were surprised. They thought a king-swan had appeared out of a flock of ducks. Much amazed, but with the intention of collecting quickly the hunted fowls, they followed in that direction. They saw Sundri running away; they chased her and surrounded her. The Muslim ruler-Amir-recognised Sundri and expressed his surprise: "May God be thanked who has arranged my meeting with you in such a manner. I thank God a million times!" So saying he became dizzy and unconscious on his horse-back. His companions stood amazed and gave him all support. Sundri felt sorry for him, but at the same time she was tense, surrounded by enemy riders she faced a difficult situation. After a while, the ruler opened his eyes and said: "How is it that you took birth among the Kafirs (infidels)? How brave are you? How confidently have you been riding your horse? How outstanding are your capabilities? How superior to those of men! Undoubtedly, you are an expert and worthy of becoming my wife, but I do not know why you are so scared of me? I am also handsome. Perhaps, you desire to move about freely like the deer frisking in the forest, and in my mansion you will be confined in Purdah (veil). Yes, you are right. You have understood the situation correctly. Don't be afraid, I shall give you some freedom. I swear on the Prophet that I love you from the bottom of my heart. I am a poet and not an unlettered villager. Let us go to the city." He smiled as he finished the last word. At this moment, Sundri was not listening to the words of the Amir; she was praying to God with closed eyes: "O Timeless God! Come out of these tree-trunks and protect my honour. I have no helper except You. Be compassionate to me." This sort of prayer rose deep from her heart and reached the Almighty. In this prayerful mood, she saw a vision of some Sikhs riding towards her, and from heaven the Guru in his splendour was beckoning them in her direction. In her ecstatic state, she shouted to them: "Oh dear brothers; come quickly, just this way." Her words were so shrill that even the horses were frightened. Her eyes now opened. She actually saw a few riders coming from a distance who accelerated their speed on hearing her wail of agony. In a moment , they reached the spot. There was a fight between the Sikhs and the Moghuls. Two Moghuls were killed and the rest ran away. The honour of Sundri was saved by God: "In every age, God protects the honour of his saints." Sundri and her Sikh brothers dismounted and shed many tears of joy; the tears continued to flow.

"O Sikh maidens of today, born with a silver spoon in your mouth and living in luxury and comfort! The daughters, sisters and mothers of the poor and rich Sikhs! Look at the faith and the plight of your fore-runner Sundri. She never loses faith. She takes a risk with her life, but doe not give up her virtue. In times of trouble and calamity, she remains firm and sticks to the doctrines of Sikh religion. Just look at yourselves and find out for yourself if you are damaging the Sikh community or not!

Just reflect for a moment on the calamities faced by Sundri and the miseries and sufferings undergone by Sikh ladies for the protection of your Dharma. Remove the confusion from your mind and become pure Sikh women. For the sake of wealth, do not give your daughters in marriage to non-Sikhs. The non-Sikhs -both male and female- ridicule your prolonged mourning, but you are so thick-headed that you do not mind their insults and you are losing your Sikh character. Do a little good to yourself and to your children. Be brave and truthful Sikh ladies like Sundri; be virtuous like her and make yourself and your children true Sikhs, otherwise you will prove to be, for your children, the pernicious creeper which dries up the plant and then itself perishes.

Dear reader, listen to the dying words of Sundri as she addresses the sangat (congregation) while struggling between life and death:

Sundri: "Dear brothers, the Guru is your Protector; you will have to face many disasters and wage wars, but you will cross these hurdles and one day you will be your own masters. I entreat you to regard your women as equal partners and never ill-treat. If you regard them as inferior to you, you will treat them with harshness and cruelty. If you look at other women with evil intentions, your honour and glory will decline. In the Hindu Shastras (scriptures) the woman is treated as Shudra -an outcaste. All the Gurus have praised and commended women. In Guru Granth Sahib, woman has been eulogized and she has been given right of worship and recitation of the Holy Name. In the same way, the Tenth Guru has given the gift of Amrit to women as well, and Mata Sahib Kaur has contributed the Patashas (sugar pellets) with her own hand to the preparation of Amrit. I know that you treat us with sympathy and compassion; you respect us and protect us even by sacrificing your lives. It is for this reason that we have emerged safely out of the challenges of numerous enemies in this terrible period."

Sundri (looking at Dharam Kaur and other ladies and addressing them): "O sisters, as long as you remain pure Sikh ladies, the entire Panth will be strong. If you and your husband have differences, your conditions will deteriorate. A woman loves her children and gets so engrossed with them that them that she will ignore her Guru or Pir (spiritual guide). If you turn your face against Guru Gobind Singh and adopt devious ways of worshipping another diety, your children will be cowards like jackals, and evil will become a part of their character. You will lose all respect in the eyes of others and your honour will vanish. Do not get entangled in the spectacle of Maya or the illusions of life. They may be good for the body which is fragile and has a temporary stay here. Just think of the good of your soul which is long-lasting, nay, imperishable."

"O brothers; do not neglect my exhortation. You should uphold the dignity of women and the high morality of the Panth as you have done in your dealings. O brothers, when you become kings, do not regard any Sikh inferior to you. Amongst us, wealth is not supreme, character and high morality is supreme." At that moment, Sundri's face brightened like the full moon and her head appeared to be surrounded by a halo of light. All were amazed by her sight and also at her show of courage overwhelming her physical debility. In the core of their hearts they felt the pang of seperation, but seemed resigned to God's Will. Dharam Kaur and other ladies -anticipating the death of Sundri- were feeling much anguished within. A wave of resignation swept over the entire congregation.

Reclining on Dharam Kaur for support, she recited the Japji with great devotion and at its conclusion performed the Ardas. She asked for forgiveness for her sins and gathering her strength, she folded her hands before Sri Guru Granth Sahib and bowed to it in reverence and recited the following verse:

"O compassionate God! Unite me with Thee;
I have fallen at your doorway.
O merciful to the meek! Protect me;
I have wandered with my mind filled with doubts and become tired.
It is Thy prerogative to love the saints and save the sinners;
There is no one else to help me.
I make this supplication to Thee, O Lord!
Take me by Thy hand, O Beneficent Lord!
And ferry me across the ocean of this world."
(A.G. panna 709)

Sundri prostrated before Sri Guru Granth Sahib; for a long time her head did not move. Feeling apprehensive, Balwant Singh lifted her head and found her dead. Sundri had gone to her Heavenly Father. There was now the empty skeleton of her virtuous body.

Daughters of the Khalsa, in your strength our future lies. Learn about the great spirit of which Sikhs possess, which no one could ever understand. This Spiritual Strength derives from Guru Maharaj (Guru Granth Sahib Ji). It's from Gurbani, Naam Simran, Seva and saacha pyar for the Guru.

Give our children fearless minds to see the world through the Guru's eyes! Let our future brothers and sisters strive to become the Khalsa and continue to inspire others by becoming noble, fearless and Chardi-Kala (high-spirited). Let them live up to the standards of those countless Sikhs who spilled blood and laid down their head for the Khalsa to remain DISTINCT and in Ever-Existence!