Usually this was our special time together when he and I discussed whatever was on his mind. That morning, he was acting a bit distant and distracted. Clearly he had something on his mind. 'Mata Ji, I have a question.' That told me he was very serious. Usually I was mommy or mum.
I stopped my combing and looked at him.
'When you and Papa Ji can't figure out something, you ask Guru Ji, right?'
'Yes, of course.'
'And it's like Guru Ji is really and truly talking just to you?'
'Yes, it's really wonderful. Not always easy to understand, but always to the point if you think about it'
'Can I do that?' He was so young, but he had been taught Gurmukhi for years and he could read it quite well, better than his French or English, in fact. (Remember we lived in Quebec, hence the French.) I wasn't sure how well he could understand all the meaning - after all, he was still a little boy - but certainly he was capable of reading it. He stopped a moment. 'I mean, MAY I do that?'
'You want to take a Hukamnama? I suppose you're knowledgeable enough to do it. And I know you love Guru Ji. Certainly.' I couldn't help but wonder what was so very important to him.
He sat impatiently while I finished his hairs and tied his patka. Then jumped up, ran to the bathroom, washed up and headed straight to Guru Ji's room. I had trouble keeping up with him. So there he was standing there on his tip-toes, still not quite tall enough to open and read. I got him a little stool. He smiled and jumped up on it. 'Perfect!'
I stood there a moment beside him. 'Would you like me to help you?' He gave me that 'Mommy, puh-lease' look. I reluctantly walked away and sat down clear across the room from him.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then reverently uncovered Guru Ji, gently opened him and began his reading, punctuating now and them with a soft, reflective 'hmmm.' After some time, he closed Guru Ji, recovered him, carefully stepped down from the stool, made a matha tek (!).