I was only seven or eight when I first did seva at the gurdwara near my home. I was handed a basket of rotis and walked into the langar hal...
I was only seven or eight when I first did seva at the gurdwara near my home. I was handed a basket of rotis and walked into the langar hall feeling rather shy and small. But within the hour, I was gaily offering rotis to the congregation with loud calls of “Parshada ji (Bread anyone?)“ Rich, poor, young, old and people from all religious affiliations including my parents sat on the floor together breaking bread.
Serving them put me in a state psychologists call flow – a mental state where you are fully immersed in an activity, beautifully focused on it and enjoying yourself as well. Around me fellow sardars and sardarnis were cleaning the gurdwara premises and looking after the devotees’ footwear. All of us did this seva (selfless service) routinely, some on Sundays, others on important personal occasions and yet others on Sikh gurus’ birthdays called gurpurabs.
Fast forward to the early days of the pandemic in May 2020. I had just had a baby and as I was nursing my newborn, I saw pictures of Sikhs in the news risking their own lives to battle the Covid-19 pandemic. From gurdwaras to NGOs like Hemkunt Foundation, from Sikh soup kitchens in...
