Vaisakhi Inspiration (Personal)

Thursday, April 14, 2011: A memory which I still have very vividly in my mind, the first time I was truly scared. It was the day before the last day of school, I was in 3rd grade and just like with great movies, the memory starts with an action sequence.

Im running, my heart is pounding as I climb the steps, I hear them getting closer seems like they are jumping two steps as I climb one, I am starting to sweat as it was a very hot day outside before these guys started chasing me. They were the ones who tormented me all year, the reason I didn’t have any friends, and had to play alone on the monkey bars during recess, I had gotten used to their daily jokes about my top knot (jurah), the amusement they got from insulting me was again something that after a few days I began to live with. But today it had escalated, I had done something to provoke them which led to this, it was the end of recess as I was walking towards the school they called for me. “HEY APPLE HEAD” I didn’t turn around, as usual I ignored them and kept walking. “I SAID STOP” I turned around and they were walking faster toward me. For some reason my instincts told me to run, I started to run toward the school, I looked back and they had also started to run after me, they were yelling for me to stop or else, but my feet kept running, I entered the school and for some reason just started running up the stairs, it seemed like a good idea but I was not fast on the stairs. Sweat was pouring down my face as I was climbing the stairs as fast I could, I still remember the stairs had metal edge with a greenish laminate for the rest of it. I kept hoping they would stop chasing me, or somehow I would out run them, but form their footsteps I knew they were close. As I reached the top of the stairs I felt a hand on my shoulder pushing me towards the wall. My hands automatically went to block my fall forward as I was pushed against the wall. It was to late, my heart rate must have been really high because I could almost hear it in my ears. They towered over me, they must have been twice my size, or that’s what was in my memory, they were in 6th grade so were much bigger.

They continued with their normal insults and pushing me around, I didn’t respond, so I wouldn’t provoke them. They called me a girl because I had long hair, and I wore a bracelet (for me that was the hardest insult, who wants to be called a GIRL ewww), even at that age I tried to tell them this is religious though I had no further explanations nor do I think they would have worked. I prayed for it to end it seemed like forever as they taunted me in that corner, then they said something which I still remember, “Tomorrow is the last day of school, I’m going to cut your hair” one of them said, all of the others laughed. This seems small but to a 8 year old it was the scariest thing I heard, I could barely mutter anything and managed to say “no, you can’t”, and to that they replied “ OH yah, it’s the last day of school, what are they going to do suspend us?” they all continued to laugh, I didn’t know what to say, the threat was serious to me, I was afraid, and against the wall they kept laughing and saying stuff as they walked away, then they made a scissor sign with their hands (pointing finger and middle finger) and said “snip, snip”. After that I don’t remember any of that day just the last thing in my mind is the finger scissors and the words “snip snip”. I went home and there I sat quietly, I did not want to tell anyone, a parent or sibling of my embarrassment, they wouldn’t understand. I kept thinking why do I have this burden, this thing on my head, to be honest I remember cursing it, it had caused me nothing but pain, no friends, only abuse. It had been the biggest hurdle for me to fit in, to be ‘normal’. At that point I devised a plan, next morning when my mom woke me up I acted sick, like I had a stomach ache, since it was the last day of school she didn’t really give me much resistance. I was allowed to stay home. More importantly I had saved my life. (another exaggeration but that was the feeling at that point in time!)

Most of my school life was some version of this, as I got older, I was able to explain it a little better, even made a couple of friends here and there, but for the most part, the insults and picking on different individuals is part of childhood. My friends were either overweight or others who were not considered normal or fit into the mold of what looked ‘cool’. At the time I knew I was Sikh, but did not know. This is the way it was, the way it was going to be, and that was my role.

By middle school I was hardened, it was tougher kids were more brutal than ever, but thanks to years of tolerance I had gotten very good at ignoring. I had also thankfully been studying Sikh history and the first seeds of understanding were growing. I laughed off the teasing, as I thought of Sikh history, as I walked the halls and heard insults going from class to class, I remember even telling myself, smile and laugh, nobody can laugh at you, if you laugh at yourself. It was a great coping mechanism, one that got me through all of my schooling with not one physical altercation. There were times I was angry, I was provoked, but I would always remind myself in those situations that ignorant people should be sympathized with, not fought. Many times I opened my patka (small turban) when asked what’s in there, just as a show and tell, and say its only hair! Of course that didn’t solve all the problems nor did it convince kids who see anything different as funny or odd.

My secret weapon was always at home, home base was where my parents, and grandparents told me stories about Sikhism about its greatness and teachings. I was almost ready for anything in those days, going to school was like entering a war zone to me, war zone where my Sikhi and patience would be tested. It’s almost funny but when you are young things ARE very dramatic.

Fast forward to 2001, a couple of days after 9/11. I am standing at my train stop waiting for the train, its situated near the road, as I look around people avoid eye contact with me. I know why, images of Bin Laden, and the towers, fresh in their minds. I could almost sense the hate, the you don’t belong here from their body language. I think to myself, I’ve been here before, I have felt this before almost had to stop myself from smiling. Just within a few seconds of this thought a white van stops at the road, I hear someone say “YOU OSAMA” I look back at a two very angry men staring at me, their anger so intense that the one in the passenger seat throws his drink at me, it lands about 2 feet from my foot, still has the drink in it “ GO HOME, WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE” “ GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM”.

As they drove off it was obvious a very awkward moment was created for the people at the train station, nobody said a word. The strangest thing was I felt no fear at that moment, I felt a very weird thought. In my mind I was thinking Guru Gobind Singh, that today, even 300 years later your saroop (identity) is doing its job. Those two men, spewed their anger at me, and that may have saved another person, an innocent Muslim who had nothing to do with this, that anger. The saroop and image still stood out enough to absorb unjust hate, ignorance and still was very relevant.

Some consider these gifts of Guru Gobind Singh a burden; some may even consider them a pain. But I have experienced their value. These gifts kesh, kara, kirpan, kanga, and kachera have made me who I am, they have done exactly what Guru Gobind Singh wanted. It completed a formula – if you wear these, and follow the tenants of Sikhism, it is automatic. Your life will automatically be filled with experiences that ‘normal’ people do not have. Your life will automatically be shaped in a way that will make you stronger, wiser and humbled. No way you can avoid it the formula is that great! When I was younger I did not understand, the exact thing that I felt held me back was the one propelling me forward. I got to see the best and worst in people, with just the way they treated me. I am such a slow learner it took me years and years to just appreciate the beauty of it!

Today, I was thinking how I should wish everyone I know a Happy Vasakhi, but instead, I did what I never did. I thanked Guru Gobind Singh for these gifts which have given me so much! Vaho Vaho Gobind Singh! Thank you for not making me ‘normal’!