A short distance away from the town of Kabul, two young men sat talking. They were wearing red turbans.
First: What shall I do then?
Second: Dear brother, I don’t know what to say?
First: Can’t you borrow it?
Second: I have tried.
First: I will have to go without food then.
Second: Yes, I know and it worries me. Why don’t you come here everyday?
First: I would if it wasn’t so far! Can’t you give it to me for just five more days? That’s all I need to learn it by heart.
Second: I know, and I have pleaded with my father but he won’t let it out of his sight.
First: Then hide it from him and snuggle it out.
Second: I wish I could. But it’s kept in a steel box with a heavy lock on it.
A young lad who was standing nearby and listening to their conversation stepped forward and greeted them with folded hands.
Lad: I am sorry to interrupt, but I couldn’t help overhearing. From your talk it seems that you want a volume of Gurbani-Panj Granthi. I can help by writing it for you if you can bring paper, pen and ink. I know Japji Sahib by heart, Hazarey de Shabad, Rehras, Sohela, Sukhmani and Asa di Var.
The young men’s faces lit up with joy and hope. “You are a blessed soul come down from heaven to help us! We shall forever be under your debt if you can do us this favour,” they said gratefully.
Lad: No, I am no angel from heaven, but a brother Sikh. It would be an honour if I can do this service.
The first young man was Tota Ram, who was eager to become a Sikh, and the second, Mangal Singh, was his friend and guide. He had taught Tota Ram Gurbani from his father’s Panj Granthi, but as these volumes were scarce, his father had taken it back and locked it away.
Tota Ram, who was very disappointed, now cheered up and looked at the lad as godsend. They decided that he should take the lad home with them and arrange for his stay till the writing was completed.
Before they parted, Mangal Singh tore a piece from his turban and gave it to the lad to wrap it around his white turban. The law of the land demanded that all non-Muslims should wear red turbans so as to be easily recognizable.
Tota Ram and his companion reached his village. The lad was given a small room in a quiet corner of the house, and supplied with paper, pen and ink. In a beautiful, clear script, the lad began to write the Gurbani, and within a month the volume was complete.
The young lad, whose name he said was Jaswant Singh and who was none other than Satwant Kaur disguised as a male, continued to stay there to produce more hand-written volumes of the Panj Granthi. The demand was immense, and large amounts of money were offered. But Jaswant Singh continued to write in return for only food and some clothes. Soon his name became a household word in whole of Kabul.
One day, an elderly businessman fell seriously ill. He asked his son to fetch someone who could recite Sukhmani to him. The son brought Jaswant Singh, who recited the path so beautifully that the old man was thrilled. His condition began to improve and within a short time he recovered. He grew very fond of Jaswant Singh and asked him to stay with him so that he could hear Sukhmani every day.
A few days passed and the old man asked Jaswant Singh, “How can I repay you? You seem to have no desires, no ambitions, but I want to do something for you?
Jaswant Singh: I do have one wish, but as it cannot be fulfilled, I don’t like to talk about it.
Old man: What is it? Tell me.
Jaswant Singh: I have in my heart a deep longing to go to Punjab.
Old man: Is that all? You know that caravans go to Punjab every few months. You can go with the next one. You will get enough time to visit Amritsar and have darshan of Harimandir Sahib, before its return.
Jaswant Singh: But I won’t be coming back!
Old man: Oh! Then what will I do? I have come to depend so much on you.
The old man liked the idea and spoke to his family. At first they objected as he was too old, but finally agreed when Jaswant Singh promised to take good care of him.
(continued...)
