Wahe Guru di fateh

Spent morning trying to get on an earlier plane to Boston. Did not succeed. Considered calling people to rescue me from my misery but decided to eat breakfast and head out to the Golden Temple instead.

Good plan.

You get a friendly doorman to flag you an already occupied auto to take you to the Temple. Riding in an auto is fraught with peril, noisy, rattly, full of diesel fumes and noisy. Over the bridge and through Gandhi Gate, he drops you very far away, possibly lying by saying it's on foot from here on as other autos whizz past you. You head on. Past lots of shops and pani pura wallas and pav bhaji walas and other random things to eat wallas. Then you come upon the Jallianwalla Bagh Memorial where everybody is trying to sell you a headscarf, cycle rickshaw ride or a trip to the Wagah Border. Where I have decided not to go, by the way, since there is border pe tension and I wish to live to ripe old age. Also it's an hour each way for a 30 minute marching ceremony where you have to run from gate to gate with the masses. I opt out.

The Bagh, when the massacre happened, was apparently deserted land bordered by the backs of the houses around it. Now it's a garden of sorts. Walls with bullet wounds. Very clean but the ubiquitous "Jassi loves Preet" graffiti greets. Martyr's well - into which people jumped to escape the bullets. Room of paintings and stories of people who perished then.

Another room with prints of letters, newspaper articles and peoples faces. First issue of Satyagrahi, edited by M.K. Gandhi, an unregistered newspaper in defiance of the Indian Press Act. Orders issued by the Government of Punjab preventing MKG's entry into Punjab after the massacre and his hand-written reply, "I regret to have to say that I shall be unable to comply with the [sic] order". Dated 9 April 1919. Newspaper article about The Crawling Order (a street where a Ms Sherwood was hurt in a mob was designated "sacred" and anyone who wished to pass was made to crawl on their bellies). Rabindranath Tagore's letter renouncing his knighthood in protest of the massacre. Shaheed Udham Singh's memorial for shooting Michael O'Dwyer (who endorsed Dyer and the massacre).

Really puts some reality into all the horrible things that happened in those days. Makes you feel sad and proud and troubled and grateful.

Out again and onwards the dusty road to the Temple. The first time you see it, you don't quite believe it. There are these shallow pools of water through which you walk to clean your feet and up and down the steps into the complex. And a complex it is.

Harmandir Sahib was built in 1574. Guru Ram Das excavated the tank that became known as Amritsar and Harmandir Sahib was built in the middle. It contains the Adi Granth and other works of gurus and saints. The full temple was built by Guru Arjan Dev who apparently invited a Muslim Sufi saint from Lahore to lay the first foundation stone (myth?) in 1604. Baba Buddha Ji was the first Granthi so there's a memorial to him. There are three holy bers (trees) and many other memorials and plaques of Sikhs who have died in battle either for the British or against. The entire place is built of marble into the slabs of which are inscribed names of those who contributed including (strangely) the UN force at the Gaza Strip. Don't ask.

All the gold and marble carvings were done under Emperor Ranjit Singh, Maharaja of the Sikh Empire of the Punjab. And it is real gold plating on copper. Very awesome. You stand there and stare for a while with mouth agape. Then the Sardars with the very big lathis with the khandas move you along and then you sit by the side of the sarovar and gape some more. There's the free langar place on one side and accommodations for pilgrims all around. Men singing in a corner. Two large flagpoles with the Nishan Sahib. People sitting around the edges. Then you get into a complicated queue which narrows to a single lane onto the bridge that takes you to the Mandir. The dome looks at least 3 stories high topped with the ik onkar. The inside is not as big as it looks on the outside. The entire thing looks like it's been carved from one giant block of marble. The gilded ceiling has patterns on it. The Guru Granth Sahib sits under piles of embroidered green cloth with a beautiful green awning. Men singing with the loveliet voices (wonder if I can get a cd). Paid a few bucks but did not manage to get any prasad - wanted the stuff that comes wrapped like a book in orange kapda for Jasmine but alas the masses decreed it not so. Plus they prod you along if you wait there too long. You take rounds of the place, drink sarovar water (no thanks) and then back out. If you're devout, you do seva which means carrying out a trash can or a pile of thalis or sweeping the place. Back out to the marble walkway around the Temple. You sit here for a bit and cry a little, then a lot and then some more, probably from a combination of PMS, depression and loneliness. Then you walk about some more because the marble gets cold really fast and your feet are starting to cramp. Apparently taking a dip in the holy water cures cripples. I tried a toe. It did not work. Maybe you need faith or something.

Through some silent communication, suddenly, some mushtande line up by the sarovar. Older men hand them buckets which they fill with one quick stylish movement (all of them make the same movement, it's very interesting to watch) and hand filled buckets back, which get splashed violently along the marble walkway. Then the wimmen follow with brooms and then more men with those squeegie things and then more wimmen with cloths to push water into the drains and wipe clean. As the contingent moves along, the mushtande (about half of them are Caucasian folk who look remarkably like Sikhs) leap up and move along with them. It's all very cool.

Then the sun starts to set and the gold looks so pretty that you can't stand it anymore. Back out through the langar area where armies of volunteers are peeling garlic and chopping carrots, past another army washing thalis. Out to the street to find a bench to put shoes on which were cleverly installed in handbag the entire time.

Bought two kadhas for Jasmine's babies. Thought I'd get a pink shiny Punjabi jutti for Black Cobra (and a corresponding one for BIL) but contrary to popular opinion, they are HUGELY uncomforable shoes. No really, they're like vices that pinch you in all the wrong places. Decided not to inflict. Will go to main market tomorrow and buy something else. Maybe a Full Patiyala (only Rs 200).

Back to the hotel, pop two antis (biotic and inflammatory), eat Brittania Good Day Butter Biscuits, update blog and watch tele. Might make it to dinner or might just order room service. Only time and the nerves will tell.

Not so sad now. Maybe because had good cry earlier.