# The Sikh Religion/Volume 2/Angad/Life/Chapter V

Chapter V
There resided in Khadur the purse-proud Chaudhri of the Khahiras, who placed himself in opposition to Guru Angad. He used to laugh at the Sikhs when he saw them doing service for the Guru. The Chaudhri had a son who was betrothed in childhood at vast expense. When he grew up he used to drink wine and frequent the society of women of ill fame, and he became an enemy of those who endeavoured to dissuade him from evil courses. Once he fell ill with fever, and epilepsy subsequently supervened. He became insensible and foamed at the mouth. His parents and relations tried every remedy and every form of incantation, burnt incense to exorcise the evil spirits who they thought possessed the patient, but all their efforts were in vain. At last friends suggested to the young man's parents to place him under the Guru's treatment. Persons suffering from various ailments came long distances to the Guru, and all returned to their homes restored to health, so why should not the Guru heal the Chaudhri's son? Moreover, the Chaudhri's family lived near, and a trial at any rate might be made of the Guru's healing power. The young man's parents and friends yielded to the representations made them, and took him to the Guru. The Guru's prescription was not elaborate. He ordered the patient to abstain from wine, serve ​holy men, repeat God's name, and he should be effectually cured. When he recovered by this mode of treatment he was informed that if he disregarded the Guru's injunctions his malady would return.
There lived in Khadur a pretended religious man known as the Tapa, or Penitent, to whom recourse had been made at an early stage of the young man's illness. He boasted that it was his own prayers which had effected the cure. When the Guru heard this, he said he did not desire to speak evilly of any one, and he repeated from the Asa ki War, ‘Treat others as thou wouldst be treated thyself.’ A year passed, however, without any evil to the young man. When the month of Sawan came round with its gathering clouds, its flashing lightning, and its cooling rain, he said, ‘When shall this pleasant time come again? Following the Guru's instructions I have passed a whole year in misery and suffering. Now bring wine and let me drink.’ Several persons tried to dissuade him, but in vain. He drank wine without measure, saying, ‘What knoweth Angad of the pleasure I feel?’ That moment his epilepsy returned, he fell to the ground from the top story of his house, and was immediately killed. Every one said that his death was the result of his opposition to the Guru and disregard of his warnings. The Guru, much distressed at the young man's untimely fate, repeated Guru Nanak's Alahanian or Lamentation.
When the Guru subsequently visited Harike, the scene of his childhood, his Sikhs went to do him homage, and brought him a couch to rest on after the fatigue of his journey. The owner of the village, who had known the Guru when a boy, refused to accept him as a prophet, to show him honour, or to make him an offering, but sat down familiarly beside him at the head of the couch. As soon as he did so his head became giddy, and he fell from his seat. The Sikhs told him that that was the result ​of his having put himself on an equality with the Guru. He replied, ‘I am of higher caste than the Guru, and owner of a village. How is he superior to me?’ Then the Sikhs repeated for his edification the eleventh slok of Asa ki War. On hearing it the man's pride and malevolence departed, and he became a devout Sikh.
King Ram Chandar, accepted by the Hindus as a god, had a younger half-brother named Bharat. It is said that from him the Khatris of the Bhalla tribe have descended. Tej Bhan of that line went and dwelt in the village of Basarka not far from Amritsar. His wife Bakht Kaur bore him four sons, the eldest of whom was Amar Das. He was born before day on the 14th of the light half of Baisakh in the Sambat year 1536 (A. D. 1479). He lived partly by agriculture and partly by trade. At the age of twenty-three years and ten months he was married to Mansa Devi. There were two sons, Mohri and Mohan, and two daughters, Dani and Bhani, born of the marriage. Amar Das was a zealous believer in the Vaishnav faith, and used to fast every eleventh day. He ever reflected that his human life was passing in vain, and he longed for the guidance of a religious teacher to make it profitable. ‘How can the lotus bloom without the sight of the sun,’ he asked, ‘and how can man obtain salvation without a guru?’ He made a vow to bathe yearly in the Ganges, and zealously discharge all the duties of a pious Hindu. On returning for the twentieth time from that sacred river, wearied with travel and the noonday heat, he lay down to sleep outside the village of Mihra.
As Amar Das continued his journey, he met a monk with whom he became so intimate and friendly that they cooked for each other. The monk on seeing Amar Das's merits asked him what guru had taught him such piety and wisdom. Amar Das replied that he had no guru. On hearing this the monk said, ​‘Alas! I have committed a great sin. I have eaten from the hands of a man who hath no guru. My ablutions in the Ganges are now of no avail. It was only when Narad and Shukdev appointed gurus that they themselves became worthy of worship. I can now only be purified by returning to bathe again in the Ganges.’ Thus lamenting the monk departed. Amar Das then began seriously to consider how he could find a guru. Until he had found one, he had no heart to eat or perform his secular duties. He prayed, ‘O God, mercifully grant that I may meet such a guru as will possess the alchemic power of turning dross into gold.’ One morning before day, while engaged in such reflections on the upper parapet of his house, he heard the dulcet chanting of the Guru's hymns. The voice came from his brother's house where lived Bibi Amro, Guru Angad's daughter, recently married to his (Amar Das's) brother's son. It was Bibi Amro's practice to rise a watch before day, bathe, and recite the Japji and other hymns of Guru Nanak, and then make butter for the family. When over heard by Amar Das, she was singing the third hymn in the Maru measure, already given in the Life of Guru Nanak.
On hearing it, Amar Das became deeply absorbed in devotion. From the concluding lines in particular he derived the sublime consolation that he should be changed from dross into gold. He could not avoid asking the lady to sing the hymn again, and inquired where she had learnt it. She readily consented, and added that she had learned the composition from her father. Amar Das committed the hymn to memory, and prevailed on her to take ​him to see the Guru. The devotion of a former existence was kindled in his heart, and until he had the advantage of beholding Guru Angad, he deemed every moment an age.
After some days, during which suitable arrangements were made for their travel, Bibi Amro accompanied by Amar Das set out on a visit to her father in Khadur. When Amar Das arrived, the Guru, on account of his close affinity, desired to embrace him, but Amar Das courteously remonstrated. He said, ‘Thou art as God, I am only a worm,’ and then fell at the Guru's feet. Amar Das, on doing homage to the Guru, felt as delighted as a poor man would who had obtained the wealth of the world.
One day the Guru had a meat dinner prepared. Amar Das said, ‘If the Guru is a searcher of hearts, he must know that I am a Vaishnav and do not touch flesh.’ The Guru, knowing this, ordered that dal should be served him. Amar Das then reflected, ‘The Guru knoweth that meat is forbidden me, so he hath ordered that dal be served me instead.’ Amar Das then rapidly arrived at the conclusion that any disciple, whose practice differed from that of the Guru, must inevitably fail. He therefore told the cook that if the Guru were kind enough to give him meat, he would partake of it. The Guru, on hearing this, knew that superstition was departing from Amar Das's heart, and he handed him his own dish. When Amar Das had partaken of it, he for the first time felt peace of mind, and, as he became further absorbed in his attentions and devotion to the Guru, celestial light dawned on his heart. Thus did he break with the strictest tenet of Vaishnavism and become a follower of the Guru.
One day the Guru, in order to further remove ​Amar Das's prejudices, thus began to instruct him: ‘The meats it is proper to abstain from are these—Others' wealth, others' wives, slander, envy, covetousness, and pride. If any one abstaining from meat is proud on the subject and says, “I never touch meat,” let him consider that the infant sucks nipples of flesh, that the married man takes home with him a vessel of flesh.’ Guru Angad then repeated and expounded Guru Nanak's sloks on the subject. He also related to Amar Das the story of Duni Chand and his father, given in the Life of Guru Nanak.
‘If you think of it,’ continued the Guru, ‘there is life in everything, even in fruits and flowers, to say nothing of flesh; but whatever thou eatest, eat remembering God, and it shall be profitable to thee. Whatever cometh to thee without hurting a fellow-creature is nectar, and whatever thou receivest by giving pain is poison. To shatter another's hopes, to calumniate others, and to misappropriate their property is worse than to eat meat.’ The last vestige of Amar Das's superstition had by this time departed. He remained night and day in attendance on the Guru, and is said to have performed for him the menial offices of many servants. One day, as the Guru and Amar Das were walking together, Amar Das thoughtlessly put his left arm forward in advance of the Guru's body. Amar Das was himself the first to notice and regret the occurrence. He said, ‘This arm which hath caused disrespect to the Guru should be cut off. What sort of servant am I if I revere not my master?’ The Guru replied, ‘It is of no consequence; swing thine arm by all means. It is by austerities the senses should be controlled. Move thy feet and hands in the saints' service and thy devotion shall be profitable. He who performeth such service shall be happy. Let man renounce pride, fear and love God, accept His will, and obey His commands. These are the marks of a true Sikh.’
​One day a man called Gobind came to make a complaint to Guru Angad. He had been involved in a lawsuit with his relations, and vowed that if ever he were victorious, he would found a city in honour of the Guru. Fortune having favoured him, he began to found the city on an open plot of land on the bank of the Bias, of which he had obtained a lease from the Emperor. Having received from astrologers an auspicious time for the inception of the work, he laid out the boundaries, employed masons, and began to build; but what was done by day was in some mysterious manner undone by night. It was supposed that this was the work of demons, but probably the enmity of Gobind's relations has not been taken sufficiently into consideration. Gobind prayed the Guru to have the village completed and called after himself. The Guru then read him a homily on the futility of fame. ‘Why trouble about miserable human affairs? There ought to be naught dearer to man than the True Name.’ Gobind then prayed him to grant his desires, even if he had no ambition to have the city founded in his honour.
Upon this Guru Angad sent Amar Das his walking-stick and commissioned him to remove whatever obstructed the construction of the city. Amar Das prayed to God for His assistance, and everything succeeded according to the Guru's wishes. Gobind founded without further molestation a beautiful city, which Amar Das called Gobindwal in honour of him. The city is now known as Goindwal. Gobind did not forget to build a palace in it for his benefactor Amar Das. When everything was completed, Gobind went again to Khadur to offer his thanks to the Guru for sending with him such a potent envoy as Amar Das, and also to beg the Guru to go and live in the newly-founded city. The Guru did not wish to leave his old town and residence, so he ordered Amar Das to go and live in Goindwal by night, and ​come to him by day. On account of the presence of Amar Das and the religious atmosphere which pervaded the place, Goindwal became a species of earthly paradise. Amar Das in process of time took with him all his relations from Basarka and per manently settled in Goindwal.
Amar Das was now old, but a halo of devotion shone round him. His daily duties were as follows: He rose at Goindwal a watch before day, and proceeded to the river Bias to take water to Khadur for the Guru to bathe with. Meanwhile he repeated the Japji and generally finished it half-way between Goindwal and Khadur. After hearing the Asa ki War in Khadur he fetched water for the Guru's kitchen, scrubbed the cooking utensils, and brought firewood from the forest. Every evening he listened to the Sodar and the daily vespers and then shampooed the Guru. After putting him to rest he returned to Goindwal, walking backwards in his supreme reverence for his spiritual master. The half-way spot where he used every morning to finish the Japji is called the Damdama or breathing-place. A temple was erected on the spot, and is now an object of pious pilgrimage to Sikhs.
* ↑ The headman of a village. There were originally four (chau) men in whom confidence was placed (dhar); hence the name.
* ↑ A brief account of Nārad has already been given. Shukdev was a rikhi the son of Vyās, the author of the Mahābhārat and arranger of the Veds. As usual in his epoch, he desired to place himself under a guru. He succeeded in finding Rāja Janak, the father-in-law of Rām Chandar, who made him his disciple.
* ↑ Dāl is the pulse of certain Indian leguminous plants such as chana, masūr, moth, ūrad, mūng, &c. It is not the name of any particular vegetable.