Unity in Diversity
A pilgrimage from fiction to faith
The year was 2021, the season was monsoon. I had just shifted from DDA Munirka to DDA Vasant Kunj that I now call Home. I was half-way through Chitra Banerjee’s historical fiction The Last Queen when I shifted here. It's a cozy 1bhk, in a lush green locality of VK (Vasant Kunj). The apartment only had a capsule-like cupboard when I had moved in. To make an empty apartment feel like it's a part of you—when it still sends wafts of the last tenant's odor—is no less than climbing a mountain.
Anouskha Shankar’s Voice of The Moon played on loop in the background. I began to read, sip some wine and settle the house to make it a home. Sounds crazy, no? But, I bet a One Woman Army would relate.
As my books and bed found their sweet spot, the air somewhat started to smell like me. Chitra’s vivid word painting of Rani Jindan and pre-independence Punjab was so immersive, that in no time my bedroom was smiling at me. That night I could barely sleep, I kept thinking about the queen and her mahal which Raja Ranjit Singh had built for her.
I googled Rani Jind Mahal, it said Lahore, Pakistan. Lahore reminded me of Manto's short story Toba Tek Singh. I spent the whole week thinking about Rani Jindan, Duleep Singh (queen’s son), Manto and India under the British Raj. Their literary and historical ghosts made the invisible wheels of my feet squeak and I found myself booking a BlaBla Cab to Amritsar. Amritsar offered the closest proximity for me to wander the streets where my friends from the bygone era had once roamed.
It's only when you take a journey by road or railways in India that you get to see the extent of human tragedy in today’s time. Most of the highway had clusters of farmers camps protesting against the agricultural bills passed in September 2020.
By the time I reached Amirtsar it was already 11:30 pm. The BlaBla guy dropped me safely at the gate of Madpackers Hostel. He assured me of a job as a translator in Canada if I made the effort to learn Punjabi. He said, seekh lo life set hai and left. Ofcourse, he texted back.
Folks at the hostel were leaving for Harmandir Sahib aka Golden Temple to have a holy glimpse of the palki at Amrit Vela. They asked me to tag along, to which I replied “ tomorrow pukka”. I badly needed a goodnight’s sleep.
I woke up to a drizzling morning. My buddha gut screamed for a lemon tea. I set out to find lemons in the narrow alleyways of Sultanwind. All I could find was extremely warm and hospitable elderly Sardarjis frying samosas and jalebi for the day ahead. One of the Sardarji said - 6:30 am was too early to look for Nimbus in the streets of Punjab. I came back and settled for a black tea and continued reading the end bit of The Last Queen till it was lunchtime. I hogged on Dal Makhni - Rice + Achaar followed by glass of a really thick sweet lassi - this combo was nothing short of a Sleeping Pill Ultra Max Pro.
After a long afternoon nap, I set out on foot for Harmandir Sahib. Evening hours in Old Amritsar are noisy. However, there is a strange stillness in the air that calms the racing mind and heart. The same kind of stillness you feel when you’re in a laid back small town. As soon as I stepped into the premises of Gurudwara, I felt as though I had come home. A home I'd always sought but never found where I was born.
That evening I planted myself by the Sarovar for hours. Just sitting there, meditating, soaking in the sunset, and watching folks practice their faith with so much devotion. I was falling hard for this place. The way the sevaks treated everyone - didn't matter what god you prayed to - with such fairness, it just got me right in the feels. Makes you wonder, doesn't it? Why nobody's out there making reels about this kind of brotherhood. Maybe 'cause it won't rack up likes or win any elections, you know?
Next morning, I spent the humid day strolling around the Raja Ranjit Circle. I wanted to go to the Partition Museum. Asked around the locals, where it was. Some said, nothing as the Partition Museum exists in Amritsar. I felt my entire life was a lie. Somehow I managed to spot the Partition Museum, located in the historic Town Hall building. The proximity of this place to Jallianwala Bagh, site of the infamous 1919 massacre, sent a chill down my spine."
On my last day, I found myself drawn back to Harmandir Sahib. This time, I took a holy dip in the sarovar. The cool water washed over me, cleansing not just my body, but somehow my soul too. As I came up for air, I was hit by this incredible vibe of peace and unity all around. It was like everyone - no matter where they came from or what they believed in - was part of this big, beautiful human smoothie.
The Gurudwara had done something to me. It made me believe, really believe, in this whole cross-cultural consciousness thing. It was like a living, breathing example that under all our differences, there's just one love connecting us all. This feeling, this realization - it felt like the real point of my whole trip. More important than any historical tidbit or literary ghost I'd chased.
As I left Amritsar, my head was buzzing. The weight of all that history from the Partition Museum, the unity I'd felt at the Gurudwara - it was all swirling together. My journey, kicked off by a book and powered by curiosity, had thrown me headfirst into the mess of our past and the hope for our future.
Heading back to Delhi, I felt different. Like I was carrying more than just memories. I had this new appreciation for the invisible strings tying us all together - across time, space, and all those boundaries we create. My little Vasant Kunj apartment was waiting, ready for new stories and thoughts. A home now richer with the whispers of history and the living, breathing spirit of unity I'd found along the way.
ONE LOVE
LOVE. SERVE. REMEMBER
I was waiting for this . Thank for taking me to Amritsar. (And preparing me for the trip to Amritsar).
And what amazing amazing pics at the end.
Stunning pics. I relate so much to this. My daughter plinked herself just like you did and it was amazing to watch her soak in the vibes.