ScarFeet

Scarfeet Inspirational Story

A man limps into the main hall of the Fremont Gurdwara. His walk is that peculiar shuffle of someone who has had both legs broken and learned to walk again. His beard is full and black, eyes strong, head high. He is not old enough to be suffering so much pain from the simple act of walking. When he bows his matha tek, his feet tell a horror story of pain. Blackened stripes scar the soles of his feet. The hallmark of the Punjab Police- red hot iron bars used to beat the soles... as if by beating the sole they can break the soul.

He walks to the side of the Palki Sahib, stopping at the side to gently smooth the pure white sheet and again bow his respect to his Guru. At the back, he touches his head to the ground and straightens the small rug, then on to the next side to smooth and bow.

Slowly, he walks to the large container of water at the far side of the hall, sees that it is half empty, and hoists it to his shoulder. Then ever more slowly, he limps out of the room. After a while, he reappears, a full jug on his shoulder, and places it back on its stand. A heavy job for a man with his pain, yet that smile never leaves his face.

Once again he bows his respect, and then sits for a bit in meditation.

When he rises, it's slowly, bending from the waist rather than the knees. He never quite bends his knees, perhaps they no longer function as they should. He bows one last time, then walks slowly out of the hall. Head high, eyes strong.

This Gurdwara, this town, this country has many such men and women. Broken in walk but not in spirit. Devoted, kind, silent and strong. they came alone or in small groups, most of them in the last 25 years. They left homes, jobs, friends and often families behind. They gently and quietly continue their seva, their devotion never fails. Their scars are both visible and invisible. You can see them if you look, if you know the horrors they survived. Maybe you just think he is old or perhaps had a bad accident. But this was no accident.

When you see him, gently bending to smooth the sheet under the palki sahib, ask yourself one thing. Is this what a “terrorist” looks like?

Salok, Kabeer:

The battle-drum beats in the sky of the mind; aim is taken, and the wound is inflicted.
The spiritual warriors enter the field of battle; now is the time to fight!
He alone is known as a spiritual hero, who fights in defense of religion.
He may be cut apart, piece by piece, but he never leaves the field of battle.

Sikhs never Give Up and always keep their faith regrdless of public view!