Travel, 3 August (continued)

We arrived in Amritsar after a long day of travel, negotiating the tight streets of the old city and arriving at our destination of Guru Nanak Dev University. It was here that Dr. Balwant Singh Dhillon hosted us for a three-night guesthouse stay.

After settling in, we set off for the Darbar Sahib (the center of Sikh sacred geography).

Another pleasant surprise awaited us as we met the (then) Jathedar of the Akal Takht (Sikh political seat of authority). Siri Singh Sahib Joginder Singh Vedanti is the top figure in charge of religio-political issues in the Sikh community. For those of you who follow news from Punjab, Vedanti was ousted from office the next night, some 27 hours after our meeting.

Back to our night… Under the lead of the Jathedar, our group was ushered into the Harimandir Sahib (named the Golden Temple by the British). As we walked around, the usual ban on taking pictures and video was lifted.

Of course that was soon problematic after our G-Mann snapped one too many with a flash. We then had dinner at the langar, along with hundreds of other pilgrims.

Our wonderful evening concluded with a walk around the sarovar (tank for bathing) and a brief repose by its side.

This seems as good time as any to briefly expound upon the institution of the gurdwara.

In addition to being a place of worship for Sikhs, gurdwaras serve a social function in the community. There are three markers wherever a gurdwara is present: the Guru Granth Sahib, langar (community kitchen; usually a larger meeting hall than for worship), and the Nishan Sahib (saffron flag with the Sikh insignia).

The insignia is comprised of three symbols and represents the community’s obligation to feed the hungry and fight for the establishment of a just regime. These symbols are: degh (cauldron, represented by a circle), tegh (sword), fateh (victory, represented by two curved swords: miri-piri, temporal-spiritual).

Travel, 3 August (continued)

Our travels continued with a visit to the United Mission School in Suranasi.

Headed by Mrs. Eliezer and managed by the United Christian Institute (American Presbyterian/Methodist), the Mission School includes an English-medium boarding school, with girls and boys both educated and housed separately, and training for vocational certification in a number of professions.

The grounds also include a chapel and a large number of acres devoted to farming. The produce sold provides income for the schools. This is quite significant, as the institution receives no formal funding. Besides fees paid by students, small endowments are provided by a number of trusts previously established. As well, some property was recently sold to fund the growth of the infrastructure and new buildings.

The majority of the students are from Punjab, the children of landless laborers, day-wagers, and rickshaw drivers. Despite being a Christian institution, 70% of the students are from outside the Christian community.

Travel, 3 August (continued)

While in Jalandhar, we visited with Mr. Mahey, an influential figure in the Ad Dharm community and a relative of the mayor. In addition to visiting the community’s gurdwara or gurdehara, we sat down for a meal together.

Members of the Ad Dharm (a-dharm, without religion) community are followers of Ravi Das, a Hindu saint who lived in the 14th century. Ravi Das was against the caste system, challenging others by pointing out that his deeds proved himself to be of high caste. Some of his devotional songs (bhakti, in praise of the formless Divine) are included in the Guru Granth Sahib.

The Ad Dharm community is composed of Chamars (leather-workers, tanners), a prominent Dalit (oppressed) sub-caste. An interesting group; Chamars were once a nomadic tribal people who became an occupational group (jati). As such, many Chamars and Jats share surnames.

Of all the Chamars across northern India, those in Punjab are considered to be the most politically and socially influential. In the early 20th century, many Chamars, tired of continued caste oppression, renounced their Hindu faith and became Sikhs. They became Ad Dharmis, numbering 10 times more than mainstream Sikhs. Despite the promises of converting to a religious tradition that is against the recognition of caste, Sikh beliefs do not always reflect in practice. There continues to be social oppression complete with the use of separate gurdwaras in both India and the Diaspora.

The gurdwara we visited in Jalandhar is unique in Sikh religious practice. In most ways, it replicates the ‘traditional’ gurdwara – the Guru Granth is featured at the rear-center on a platform, surrounded by gifts and other finery, and a place for the congregation in front.

It differs as it features a portrait of Ravi Das alongside the Guru Granth. As well, there are portraits of Ravi Das and his disciple Mirabai on the walls.

A shrine dedicated to Mirabai is being built within the walls of the gurdwara complex, mirroring the one found in Rajasthan.

After our meal together, Mr. Mahey lectured on historical and contemporary issues of the Ad Dharm community.

On the topic of Indian politics he noted that although Gandhi spoke for the uplift of the downtrodden, those he labeled as Harijans (children of God), he never challenged the caste system. It was Dr. Ambedkar, a Dalit leader, who was the first politician to challenge the hierarchical structure of the caste system. In 1956, Ambedkar along with thousands of his Dalit followers converted to Buddhism. In fact, a correlation is often made between Buddhism, an age-old religion, and Ad Dharmis, an age-old people. While ‘shopping’ around for a more tolerant religion, Ambedkar considered Sikhism but decided against it when he found same system of Dalit oppression in Punjab.

Speaking on the use of separate gurdwaras, Mr. Mahey raised an important question: if guruship was instilled in the Guru Granth and all gurdwaras have the Granth, why are there separate gurdwaras for ‘communities’ within the Sikh community?
In a way, he answered his own question. We know that the tenth Sikh guru elevated the Sikh scripture to that of the Guru Granth and the community to the Guru Panth (the community as the Guru). The authority of the personal Guru was placed in the text and in the Panth, the right to take decisions on behalf of the community. The Ad Dharmis follow Ravi Das, a ‘Hindu’ saint, along with Sikh beliefs and practices. Yet, authority of personal guruship was only instilled in the text. This places the religious beliefs and practices of the Ad Dharmis at odds with mainstream Sikhism. Add to that some lingering social beliefs about caste and voila, the use of separate gurdwaras.

Despite limits society and religion places upon them, Ad Dharmis, like other Dalit communities, have benefited from economic uplift alongside an increase in social awareness and educational opportunities. For anyone interested in more about this community, please see Juergensmeyer’s Religion As Social Vision.

Travel, 3 August (continued)

We traveled on to Jalandar and visited the Ghadar Museum. This museum is a hall of portraits of Ghadar Party members.

I have mixed feelings each time I visit here. On the one hand, it’s a celebration of heritage and struggle – of revolution. On the other, the gallery is a collection of people deemed subversive – of rebellion. The British sentenced many of the faces staring back at me to death.

The Ghadar Party was founded in California in 1913. It was active in Indian politics, nationalist and socialist, until 1919. Its members were Indian immigrants, largely from the Punjab with the aim of liberating India from British rule. Many were associated with UC Berkeley and brought out a weekly pamphlet, The Ghadar. Editions were available in the scripts of Nashtaliq, Gurmukhi, and Gujarati scripts, highlighting targeted readers.

Activities of the Ghadar Party accompanied and influenced the swell of the revolutionary tide gripping India and its emerging leaders. Indian soldiers in the British Army were successfully enticed to revolt, leading to a number court-martialed in Hong Kong, Singapore, Iran, and Iraq. The British deemed Ghadar literature seditious and set about persecuting Party members. Many were charged for sedition and hung or sentenced to many years of hard labor at Kala Pani, the notorious British prison.

As a side note, the prison building, also known as the Cellular Jail, had seven wings that forked out of a watchtower at its center. All inmates were housed in cells that prevented communication with others. The architectural design was influenced by the idea of the Panopticon, developed by Bentham, and discussed at length by Foucault in his text Discipline and Punish. I think it’s a cool design, functioning through the power of thinking you are being watched.

Travel, 3 August

Our first stop of the day was Guru Nanak Mission Hospital, located in village Dhahan-Kaleran. Started and maintained by (Dr.) Baba Budh Singh, the complex includes medical facilities, a middle school (free education for the poor), a women’s nursing college, and hostels. Likened to an oasis, the hospital complex is a gated property with immaculate gardens, a clean atmosphere, and a welcoming and English speaking staff. A gurdwara is at the center of the complex.

Babaji has been involved in services in and for the Punjab for over 30 years. He stressed again and again of a strong commitment to Sikh values of contributing to improve life (of service, seva, through deeds not belief).

Situated in a poor area, out-migration is common and people don’t return. In addition, because they are lacking in the villages, there is need for health and education services. Through the initiatives of the Mission Hospital, efforts are being made to instruct the villagers about their health (food & exercise) and help rid themselves of substance addiction through literature and meetings. Primary health concerns are blood pressure, heart problems, basic health care, diabetes, and drug and alcohol addiction. HIV/AIDS has become a problem as well. Fifteen years ago, there were no reported cases in Punjab. Truck drivers traveling to major cities visit prostitutes and contract STDS, passing these on to their wives and other partners.

Established in 1993, the hospital began with fifty beds and now has over 200. It is the only hospital in the rural area and a trauma center is being built. When the hospital started, most were in favor of it but there was much jealously over the services to be offered. With its privately funded rural nursing facility, the hospital is regarded as a model institution in the area. At present, it is possible to recruit choice doctors, nurses, and technicians – offering them higher pay than government and other private hospitals. Many NRI (Non-Resident Indian) doctors come here for seva; most are from Canada and the US.

The nursing college was established in 1998 and offers a three-year BSc degree. Prior to this college, there were four nursing colleges in Punjab and two were Christian. Most Indian nurses are of Christian background; a large number are from Punjab and Kerala.

Affiliated to the University of British Columbia (UBC), exacting educational standards are met concerning the curriculum, maintenance, and overall performance of the college. Each year, four outstanding students are sent to UBC on an exchange program. Likewise, UBC students come to India. Graduates of the college go abroad to Canada, the US, the UK, and other places. Many graduates work in the local villages, advising about basic health issues. Babaji hopes to start a private medical college next years if the permits are attained.

I really enjoy our question & answer session with Babaji. He’s doing a good thing; offering much needed services and offering young people a chance to succeed at an education relevant to the changing needs of society. Babaji challenged our young minds, leaving us with a question: Do people or events create primary strands in history.

Travel Week, 3-9 August

Travel week is designed to introduce the program’s participants to the heart of Punjab, leaving the metropolis of Chandigarh far behind. We cross west into the Doaba and Majha regions for the first time. Our travels continue to Amritsar and the Wagah border crossing into Pakistan. The journey then turns northeast, climbing into the hilly country of Himachal Pradesh and to Dharamsala, home of the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan government in exile. Day trips explore important and oft-forgotten communities and places of reverence. The week leaves off where travels in the program began, under the gaze of the Goddess high above at Naina Devi.

Aditya Prakash remembered

Aditya Prakash, eminent architect, artist, and scholar, passed away on 11 August [link].

Here was a wonderful man who would come each year and talk to the participants of the Punjab Summer Studies Program. Prakash would lecture on his life in Chandigarh, how he had worked with Le Corbusier in the design of the city, and his active life in architecture, theatre, and art.

I first met him in 2004. After he talked, Prakash gifted many members of the group with two of his books, complete with his drawings. I present these artistic renditions here.






Hearing him speak again this summer, I was taken aback, as if for the first time, about his candor and admiration for the architecture of Chandigarh. I have always been troubled seeing Chandigarh as the City Beautiful. It is a city on a grid, of unfinished facades, a metropolis of socio-economic disparities. This is a consumer city, a little slice of the West on a plate of daal (lentil dish) and roti (unleavened bread).




As Prakash spoke of the city, of its successes and general problems, I began to see the dream La Corbusier had intended and I ceased to see Chandigarh as a city but rather as a number of communities existing and interacting on a social grid. The City Beautiful was intended to be India’s first modern city. Its sectors were designed to function as self-contained units. Each sector, with some exceptions, includes its own shopping and residential zones, health care and education facilities, and roads designed for specific types of vehicles. Other sectors were devoted entirely to higher education or to functioning as the city’s center – Sector-17. Although intended to be a pedestrian’s paradise, this dream has been lost to increasing traffic. Indeed, like all modern cities, Chandigarh is faced with problems but it continues to function as intended.

I may never see Chandigarh the way its architects imagined, but I must thank Aditya Prakash for opening my eyes and showing me another way to see the City Beautiful.

Quips & Freudian slips

What would a gathering of great minds, scholars and professionals alike, be without random one-liners? To protect the innocent, and the guilty, names have been omitted.
There should be one of those Parental warnings on this; so parents, be warned.


Before we leave, I’m going to find the computer analyst’s desk [at the hotel] and shit on it.

The whole way back you kept telling me, ‘I think I’m going to shit my pants’.

There’s enough room up your anus for a hamster to move around.

You could never fit a guinea pig in your anus.
- Would you need a funnel?

It’s like Benazir Bhutto and me on the back of a camel.

When you talk like that, it vibrates.

Oh, you’re so masturbating on my hair. Oh yeh.

It’s like Punnu… more like Pu-yeh.

You shouldn’t masturbate in people’s hair. It’s generally not good for them.

How does that [the ATM] work, you put your card in and take money out?

You have a beautiful heart… and a huge penis.

This fly’s not afraid of humans; it’s a mujaheddin fly.

I’m going to take my clothes off [the chair]… hold on, so you can sit down.

You’re a badass warrior.

Puppies, puppies, puppies

Do it tomorrow when I can fuckin’ comb my hair and shit.

If I’m awake, otherwise, nah, fuck it

I don’t have to spend any money on alcohol. Your eyes make me drunk.

She had a rolling pin hanging out and she was like bopping it around.

You like it, don’t you?

He’s cute.
- He’s married.

“Good afternoon y’all”

We got velociraptors attacking people.

Who farted? I smell it in the corner. It’s you! It smells like worse than crap. My face was like right in front of your crack.

You fart and the whole world turns upside down.

That was almost in my mouth; I so tasted it.

It’s fucking open you nob.

I’m taking pictures of myself right now. I look weird; get used to it.

You see how tight I am.

I have bad balance when I’m going down.

A massage can be very salubrious.

Are you hungry?
- I’m hungry for love.

God she was ugly. It’s like some of these girls…god dammit.

California people are generally more attractive.

You know when chimpanzees are young and you can train them, and then their hormones kick in and they get all crazy.

You’re the designated walker. How many fingers?

You’re saying contradictory needs to what we want.

You speak Herbic.

Tomorrow’s commando day

We all need Simran; I mean in the metaphorical sense.

You want to see a cool goat picture?
- A magic goat in a tree.

You’re like hoarding pan for the winter like a chipmunk.
- Stop pan-dering me.

How’s it like on your crotch? How do you have pan-spit on your crotch?

Watch out for those Brahmin priests. You bend over and they’re all over you like white on rice.

I like Limca so much; I could have it as a soup.

It could be dastardly horrible.

It’s more of a sucking thing than a chewing thing.

She sets her alarm for 5am and them hits the Snooze until 7:30.

Smell it bitch, smell it kuti.

This monkey had the biggest balls I’ve ever seen.

The State Department will so be itching for your ass.

He’s an old swinger.

You’ll have to slip into one of mine.

Don’t touch that!

I won the sexy legs contest. Don’t put that in your quotes!

I hate being a girl.
- Bummer, ‘cause you make a great one.

Is this < - - - - > boob-ified enough?

I want to shoot myself in the face; my head hurts.
- Ok, Mr. Happy

I tried to germinate last night.

Did you wake up like that?
- I woke up like a lot of things.

I’m all about which way they’re hanging, are they big, are they small.

Did you say cock?

They were lovely; they were big, and soft and juicy.

I think I might have diarrhea tomorrow morning, because it’s convenient.

If you can’t get it in the snatch, you must detach.

All I heard was ‘legs spread’ and then my name.

How would you like to sing so we can record?
- Out loud?

He head butted me!
- I bleeded.

Do you want a sandwich?
- You, me, and who else?

When I saw it, I did a little prayer. God, please forgive them.

You need to learn how to do it with the doorknob.

Surjit Patar, 29 July

Surjit Patar, infamous Punjabi poet and singer, visited us.

In addition to reciting some of his beautiful and powerful poetry, he told the following story.

A farmer had two sons. The first son chose to become a farmer while the second chose to become as ascetic and went to the forest. Having returned to his father after 14 years, the son was asked, “What have you learned?”
“I have learned many austerities and performed miracles”, the son replied. “I can bring that bucket here, that stick, without moving.”
The father replied, “I too can do these things”.
The son implored his father to bring the stick without moving.
The father called for his other son and the stick was brought.

Tailoring broken-English

During my first trip to Punjab in 2004, I found tailor who I have diligently returned to year after year. It’s easy to find a friendly tailor, hard to find a cheap tailor, and harder still to find a reliable tailor. I like my tailor, he’s witty and does great work – even if we have some language issues and he says done by Tuesday but means Saturday night. Hey, it’s India; you get pissed off and they watch you to see what happens.

I know the relationship would be so much better if my linguistic skills were beyond that of a 3-year old. Outside of business transactions, our conversations are slow and mostly consist of comparisons between America and India or India and Pakistan. Speaking in broken English, Punjabi, and Hindi, our conversations are very basic and quite drawn out. Based on talks this summer, I know that he speaks Punjabi with a wide-ranging vocabulary – Hindi and Punjabi/Farsi based, but without the use of tonals. As well, he is pro-Hindu right and believes that the Middle East and Pakistan are full of bad Muslims; Muslims are not to be trusted; Muslim women kill others just like Muslim men. He wasn’t trying to preach to me, he just wanted my opinion and felt free to voice his.

One evening we got onto the subject of presidents and prime ministers. Speaking of Indira Gandhi in the honorific, Shri Mati, my tailor suddenly pointed at me and said, “You shoot her”. It took me a second to realize that he was equating me with the Sikh bodyguards who had shot her. Interesting how a lack of vocabulary can accomplish so much with one gesture.

Morning walks

Every morning I go on a walk, at least I plan the night before to go on a walk. As well, I often recruit others at dinner to go on a morning walk but at 6am, they are nowhere to be found. When the morning comes, it can sometimes be hard to roll out of very comfortable bed. Once outside, however, the humid morning air is quite lovely, the temperature slowly climbing into the mid-80s as the sun soars over the Shivalik Hills.



My trek consists of a short jaunt to the Rose Garden in Sector-17, where I take the perimeter ring and quickly cross the garden, meeting a major road on the other side.

From here, I walk down a tree-lined road past the city’s art museums. The road leads to another park with walking paths under many trees. Compared to the Rose Garden, the air temperature here is much nicer. Despite this relief from the heat, the area has less people walking or sitting. In addition, it’s much quieter being surrounded by a semi-residential area.


My favorite part of walking is glimpsing the wildlife of Chandigarh, the four-legged and winged city-dwellers. In my opinion, the variety is too few but any amount is welcomed. There are familiar animals, chipmunks, pigeons, and a variety of the crow, as well as several types of birds that I don’t know.


The people that I encounter are memorable for their actions. Indian men and women alike walk briskly, do repetitive walking stretches, or gather in same sex groups and perform yoga. Some sit in various poses, others clap.

Travel, 27 July

It was short day of travel today, as we went to only three places of interest. We began with a visit to Sector-1 in Chandigarh. It is here that the state Assembly and High Court buildings are located along with the symbol of Chandigarh, the Hand.


The architects of Chandigarh had planned for the Republic Day parade and other large gatherings to be held in this location. As such, a large paved space exists in front of each building – stretching close to a mile between the Assembly and Court buildings. However, the Chandigarh politicians have chosen not to implement this policy. As a result, apart from an open field popular with youth playing cricket, Sector-1 remains atop a hillock, distanced from the rest of the populace and desolate in appearance.


We next visited Manakpur Sharif, a Sufi shrine dating to the 18th century.

The Sufi saint was of some importance as there is a large gate at the entrance of the compound with many other Muslim graves and mosques surrounding the main tomb.

In addition, there is a large water tank with steps in front of the gate. This tank implies that the shrine was an important place of pilgrimage and celebration, water representing cleanliness and life. Reaching the shrine requires a rough drive over a washed out muddy road and flowing stream. In a sense, this shows how history is hidden in the Punjabi countryside.

I’ve visited this place several times over the years and each time the gate has been gifted with new coats of paints and given more attention to the details of its beautiful architecture. For its age, the gate has been immaculately preserved. Many a Bollywood film and Indian music video have used this place as a backdrop.



Along with a visit to the shrine, we walked around the village of Manakpur – situated in the immediate vicinity. The design of the village is similar to most others in Punjab. The narrow streets are cobbled or dirt, with high compound walls on each side. There is a single main street, representing the outer ring of the village, splitting into narrower alleys to reach other homes. Gates open to reveal courtyards, in which buffaloes are tethered, and cots laid out for sleeping, Living quarters surround the courtyards.

There is an open sewerage system with narrow channels lining the sides of the main street, merging into a large canal that empties into a large tank. The tank is full of duckweed, an aquatic plant known to cleanse and add nutrients to water. The economy of the village revolves around agriculture, with plots lying outside of the village. In addition, persons would be employed outside of the village.

Our last visit of the day was to the Pinjore Gardens. These Mughal gardens were designed in the 17th century during the rule of Aurangzeb. Unlike other Mughal gardens, the seven terraces at Pinjore descend instead of ascend into the distance.

It’s a lovely spot spanning many acres and includes an elaborate system of waterways and fountains, orchards of fruit trees, and other plants common to the Indian subcontinent. In addition, there is a Japanese garden, vulture sanctuary, lawns for picnics, and a variety of birds.





Before returning to the hotel, our drivers dropped us off at the McDonald’s. Though we ended up eating somewhere else, I would like to note an interesting tidbit. McDonald’s in India offers four sizes of drinks and French fries: small, medium, large, and Patiala. Patiala, formerly a princely state, is a city in Punjab. Patiala is known for larger things, huge turbans, billowing pyjamas, and the Punjabi peg. It is for the latter that McDonald’s has created a unique size.

As the story goes, the Indian cricket team was to play the better English team. The night before the match the Indians convinced the English that in Patiala people drank a 6oz peg of whisky versus the normal 2-3oz. The next day the Indians easily beat a sluggish and very hung over English team.

Another night out

25 July

A large number of us went out to a club last night. Dj Sanj was playing and rumors promised that he would play bhangra and other Indian music. We were not let down in this regard, as he played to the desires of the crowd. Much like club going in America and England, we got ready then gathered in a hotel room and preceded to booze it up. As one person put it, it really sucks to stand in line sober. In reality, the heat and humidity here guarantees that whatever alcohol you put in your system is sweated out while you’re standing in line.

I almost didn’t make it inside the club. I had paid my Rs.500 ($11.50) and had my wrist stamped with the word INVINCIBLE when the burly bouncer patting me down felt my kirpan (Sikh religious dagger). At once he denied me entry and rightly so, many confuse the kirpan as a weapon. To come to my defense, it wasn’t as if I was just some white boy wearing a kirpan. I was representing a form of traditional Punjabi-Sikh identity, replete with a neatly tied navy blue turban and a full-length white kurta. I protested my case to the bouncer commenting that a Sikh’s kirpan is not to be removed to fit the desire of others.

I continued, inquiring if amritdharis (Baptized Sikhs forbidden to part with their kirpan) were also banned from entering the club. Still denied entry, I lifted my voice and said that the kirpan, like the turban, is a gift from the Guru. It was here that I saw some sympathy flash in his eyes. An older man with his beard tied and a baseball cap covering a bandana, covering his hair, (i.e. a Sikh) moved next to me and spoke up. He argued for me, stating that I was Khalsa (another term for amritdhari). To be historically correct, Guru Gobind Singh declared that all of his Sikhs were the Khalsa.

The bouncer let me in. Once inside, the older man stopped me and shook my hand, commenting that he was proud I was sporting my Sikh identity and not backing down when questioned. He said that too many youth in Punjab today are not wearing turbans and shave their beards – fashion rather than tradition leading their lives. I really enjoy tying a turban; I take great pride in completing my attire with it. Besides, if women can accessorize with a handbag and heels, why can’t men sport a colorful turban.

We danced up a storm and had plenty of energy after the club had closed; too much in fact. Outside the club, we were told by a police officer, wielding a lathi (wooden club), to stop making so much noise. We had been singing and dancing in a circle, practicing songs we had been learning all week from a traditional singer and dholi (drummer). The young Punjabis around us enjoyed our presentation, too bad Mr. Grumpy Pants in his silly khaki beret didn’t.

Travel, 20 July

It was a long day of travel today. We went to Paonta Sahib, on the West bank of the river Yamuna in the state of Himachal Pradesh.

It was here that the tenth guru, having been forced out of Anandpur by the Mughals, settled for some three years and patronized Sikh art and literature.

On the way back to Chandigarh, the car I was riding in had some excitement as a passing motorist scraped along the right side, tearing off the driver’s mirror and denting in the front panel. Were it not for the quick reaction of our driver, sliding to a stop and turning to the left, the oncoming driver would have clipped the front-right side of our car and either spun us off the road or worse.