A true Lion of The Panth
Father of Shaaheed Bhai Rajwinder Singh Panjwar and Bhai Paramjit Singh Panjwar(Current Chief of "KHALISTAN COMMANDO FORCE" )
I asked Baaghi Singh, the photographer:
He has such a joyous, chardi kala face and a beautiful bearing. Just looking at his picture is an inspirartion.
If only we children all had such a parent! Then maybe all of us parents would have such children.
(Where is Bibi [Whoever] Kaur, their mother?)
BAAGHI SINGH.. says:
Bapu Kashmir Singh was sat in a gathering of elder Singhs in village panjwar, as I approached them and asked to take Bapu Ji's picture, he was overcome with joy, the glow on Bapu Ji's face is captured here...
During the Sikh struggle for independance, Bhai Parmjeet Singh Panjwar was (and still is) one of the most wanted Jujharoos, as the security forces could not capture this lion, they resorted to inhumane methods such as torturing and kiling family members, Bibi Mohinder Kaur Ji, the mother of Bhai Parmjeet Singh panjwar was picked up by the police from her home and taken to Jhabbal police station, where she was tortured & later attained Shaheedi.
Bhai Parmjeet Singhs brother, Bhai Rajwinder Singh Panjwar also suffered the same fate.
For more info about the Shaheedi of Mata Ji and Bhai Rajwinder Singh, please read Zulaam Gatha by Baghail Singh Baaghi
Posted 7 hours ago.
Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace--but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
20 March 2009
S.KASHMIR SINGH PANJWAR
19 March 2009
Hair, Hair and Hairs
It has been suggested that it might even give nonSikhs a little insight into our attitude about hair. I don't know about that. This is just my experiences and my thoughts. Anyway, after dead children in Gaza, murdered girl-foetuses in Punjab (and elsewhere) and all that is wrong in India, maybe we Khalistanis need a little relaxation..
So here goes:
My husband is again annoyed at all the money I spend on my hair. I think this is normal. Women do tend to spend a lot of money on their hair.
I was discussing this with a friend online. What are the things most women do to their hair? Straightening, I mean, relaxing, perming, weaves, braids, extensions, all kinds of styling and, of course, cuts.
She said that she spends about $100.00 a month at the salon, in addition to home care products, such as shampoo, conditioner, gels, mousse, sprays and a weekly deep conditioner. That can easily add up to another $50.00 per month. Then there are brushes, combs, ties, and ornaments. I am going to disregard them, as I have no way to approximate that.
My expenses are somewhat less. In twenty years of marriage, I have been to a salon - not even one time. Wait, I was in a salon once. I'll tell about that later. I have never used or paid for the services of a salon even once. Well, once...I'll tell that story, too..
Given those figures, the average American woman would have spent about $36,000.00 over twenty years.
My expenses are somewhat less. I buy only three products for my hair: shampoo, conditioner and hair oil. Although I refuse to use that hair garbage from the dollar store - it makes my hair, which is very dry, break off and my scalp itch - I do not use the expensive salon items. I buy what is on sale at the local grocery/drug store. Shampoo and conditioner cost about $7.00 each for a bottle. One bottle will last me about a month. Hair oil, even imported from India is not expensive. The kind I usually use costs about $6.00 a bottle and lasts a couple of months. But let's say, I use a bottle a month. That all adds up to to $20.00 per month. Over twenty years, that adds up to a grand total of $4,800.
That means I have saved us about $31,200 over the twenty years of our marriage. I'd say I'm quite a bargain!
About that trip to the salon. A friend asked me to meet her there. With some misgivings, I agreed. I do not think any keshdhari Sikh could possibly feel comfortable in such a place. (For my nonSikh readers, being keshdhari means following the distinctively Sikh practice of leaving the hair unshorn and in its natural state.)
I am keshdhari. Going to a hair salon felt a little like going to a brothel. Interesting, a bit disgusting, quite daring and very uncomfortable. I was very much out of place, rather like a lioness at a dog show.
I first noticed the smell. A hair salon smells a bit like a chemistry lab without fume hoods. Ammonia seemed to predominate, along with some smells I couldn't identify. Someone had lit some incense, I suppose to cover up the noxious odours. It didn't work. Both my nostrils and my eyes were assaulted and I felt vaguely sick to my stomach.
The sights that met my eyes were a bit shocking. I mean, I know what goes on in these places, but to actually witness it! Here were all these women, all seemingly having a good time, mutilating their hair in various ways with these toxic chemicals. I could almost hear their tortured hairs screaming out in agony. And on the floor lay strands and strings of amputated hairs of all sorts of colours, some natural, most dyed. All dead.
My friend was in another room, but the receptionist recognised her name when I asked her. I left a note asking her to meet me at a near-by coffee shop and got out of that chamber of horrors. That was maybe 15 years ago; I have not been in one since.
I will be honest. Many years ago, while married to Mani, I did go to a hair salon for a service. I took it into my head that I wanted to get my hair professionally conditioned. I think mostly I was curious at exactly what went on in there. I found out.
I explained that I just wanted a deep conditioning. As this was in Montreal, of course it was all in French. I'll spare you and write in English. The young woman who was to serve me had bright blonde hair of an improbable shade puffed around her face to make her head look very round. She approached me. saw my neat bun and reached up to take out my kangha. I let out a yelp and fastened it to a sort of string around my neck. Jeanette - I don't remember her name, but that seems appropriate - loosened my hair which fell and fell and fell. She actually let out a little gasp and said she'd never seen such long hair. There was no approval in her voice; in fact her tone was accusatory. She picked up the ends of it and with several hmm, hmm, hmms, examined them closely "Virgin hair," she murmured.. "You have split ends. I'll have to trim them off before it can be properly conditioned."
"You'll do no such thing. Cut a single hair and I'll have your," I caught my breath and choked back the obscenity that had been on my lips, "cosmetology licence."
"Do you belong to some weird religious cult or something that won't let women cut their hair?"
"Or something," I growled. "And men don't cut their hair either."
"Well, you should break free and become your own woman." She picked up her scissors. "Long hair is really not becoming on you with that long neck. You have such a high forehead, you really need some cute bangs. You really need a sexy new hair style. Let me help you get free from all " - she held up my precious kesh - "this."
I admit that I sprang out of the chair and got out of there fast. I suppose she still thinks that I came from some strange cult and had inadvertently wandered into the Twentieth Century.
After that I conditioned my own hair - or rather Mani and I did each other's hair, which was not only safer, but also a lot more pleasant.
I have one more thought about long hair. I once watched on The Oprah Winfrey Show, an episode that greatly disturbed me. A bunch of women - and one man - with very long hair were to get makeovers. The main point was to cut off that awful, old-fashioned, ugly, long hair. Give these people a modern, "sexy" look. I admit they did look very different, but BETTER? Not in my opinion. I had the same reaction I have when someone suggests I'd look better if I wore make-up. I always respond,"Better? No, just different." The man went from a strong, masculine man with a full beard and mustache, and hair as long as - although not as healthy - as a keshdhari Sikh to a somewhat girlish metrosexual. I did not like at all.
At least the shorn hair was donated to Locks of Love, a charity that makes human hair wigs for children who have lost their hair, usually as the result of cancer treatments. A worthy cause.
Now, in case you are thinking that these Sikhs are a bit daft with this whole hair thing, allow me a brief explanation. We believe that our Creator knew what it was doing when it made us and we couldn't be more perfectly made. We have hair for a reason, in fact, several practical reasons which I am not going into right now. Even if we could find no practical reason for hair, the fact is that Akaal Purakh (God) gave us a gift of our hair and it is for us to gratefully accept and cherish this gift. (Of course, there's more to it than that, but I think that'll be enough for a start, eh?)
If we still seem a bit daft to you, that's OK. We don't mind. Most of us anyway.
WHY TRY TO FIT IN? YOU WERE BORN TO STAND OUT!
14 March 2009
"WHY KHALISTAN? WHAT'S WRONG WITH INDIA?"
The answer to the first question can be short and sweet, or it can be long and complicated, but it always must involve the second. You could, of course, simply look at the blog header pictures. " But that was 25 years ago! Get over it!"
So I have decided to answer the second. I will be publishing articles, current articles, here that answer that question. I'm not sure exactly what I will come up with, but I rather imagine they will cover topics such as poverty, pollution, corruption, caste and the like. I can imagine that groups of people, such as Dalits, Muslims, Christians, even Naxalites will also turn up. I really don't know. We will find out together. I might anger some people. Correction, I will anger some people. I promise, though, that I will tell the truth as reported by the Indian press; I will not exaggerate. Where will this all end? I don't know. Really, I have no idea.
This I do know, we Sikhs built India before there was a country called "India." We were the ones who fought and died and were imprisoned, tortured and executed by the British in the freedom struggle so that Mohandas K. Gandhi and his followers could claim a "nonviolent independence."
We have worked hard. After Partition, our hearts broken by the broken promises of Nehru and Gandhi, we picked up the pieces and marched forward to benefit the nation that had betrayed us. Our farmers in Punjab have fed the nation. Our soldiers have defended the nation. Our businesspeople have largely sustained the economy of the nation.
For these contributions, we are being treated to Sardar jokes, being portrayed in Bollywood as thugs and buffoons, being condemned as terrorists and, in general, being disrespected.
In short, we have lived this old saw:
WE THE WILLING LED BY THE INCOMPETENT HAVE BEEN DOING THE IMPOSSIBLE FOR THESome of us are sick and tired of all this.
UNGRATEFUL. WE HAVE BEEN DOING SO MUCH WITH SO LITTLE FOR SO LONG, WE ARE NOW
QUALIFIED TO DO EVERYTHING WITH NOTHING.
That said, this article came to me through IHRO a couple days ago. It is about a tribal woman in Assam who has shown great courage and class in not letting herself be humiliated into silence. Let it be the first in this series.
By Subir Bhaumik
BBC News, CalcuttaA tribal woman who was stripped and assaulted in India's north-eastern state of Assam is to contest the parliamentary elections.
Laxmi Oraon has been nominated by the regional Assam United Democratic Front (AUDF).
She was stripped by locals when she took part in a rally in 2007 demanding better tribal rights.
Pictures of Ms Oraon running naked across a market in Assam's capital Guwahati caused outrage in India. (Note: To preserve the dignity of the lady, I haver chosen not to use these pictures.)
Ms Oraon had joined the rally in November 2007 along with thousands of Adivasi tribespeople, who mostly work as labourers in Assam's 800 tea gardens.
The rally turned violent and the Adivasis started vandalising shops and beating up policemen and locals before they were overwhelmed by a huge number of local people.
Ms Oraon was stripped and beaten before an Assamese man took off his T-shirt, covered her and dragged her to safety.
'Taunted and teased'
Nearly 16 months later, Ms Oraon has been offered a ticket to contest the Tezpur parliamentary constituency.
"She is a symbol of Adivasi exploitation, of minority exploitation in Assam. We want her to contest the parliament polls on our ticket and she has agreed," AUDF general secretary Hafiz Rashid Choudhury said.Ms Oraon said while accepting the nomination: "I may not win but I want to make a point. That the Adivasis will no longer take the exploitation lying down."
The AUDF is a Muslim-dominated party but claims to represent other minorities in Assam - among them the Adivasis, whose ancestors were brought from central India to work in Assam's tea estates by the former British rulers.
Assam's ruling Congress party claims to represent minorities fairly, but the AUDF has increasingly sliced into the Congress area of influence among the minorities, especially the state's 30% Muslim population.
"Our party has been set up to represent the interest of all minorities, so we cannot ignore the exploitation of the Adivasis," Mr Choudhury says.
"And Laxmi is a living symbol of this exploitation."
After her humiliation, Ms Oraon has often appeared in the media - particularly in the state of Jharkhand, where her ancestors came from.
She was an honoured guest at the launch of a book by the leader of the Jharkhand Disom party, Salkhan Murmu, in Jharkhand's capital Ranchi last April.
Ms Oraon also finished her school leaving examinations last year.
"My humiliation did not end with the stripping and beating. It followed me to the examination centre, where I was taunted and teased," she told journalists.
Ms Oraon and her family have accused the ruling party of trying to "bribe" her to stay quiet after the stripping episode. Congress firmly denied the charge.
It says it handled the issue fairly, setting up a judicial inquiry commission to identify the culprits and punish them.
08 March 2009
Operation Shudi Karan Rape Sikh Girls 1984
As International Women's Day, 2009, draws to a close here in North America, I think it is appropriate that we stop and remember the sufferings of our Sikh sisters at the hands of the Punjabi police in 1984, lead by the infamous, notorious Gobind Ram, who called his urine the "Amrit of Gobind Ram," as he forced Amritdhari women to drink it.
I apologise for the necessity of posting something in such incredibly bad taste.
URL: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ogwT_A4Oidw
With thanks to DS Gill, IHRO
The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me
THE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO ME
I've had my share of life's ups and downs
But fate's been kind, the downs have been few
I guess you could say that I've been lucky
Well, I guess you could say that it's all because of you
If anyone should ever write my life story
For whatever reason there might be
Ooo, you'll be there between each line of pain and glory
'Cause you're the best thing that ever happened to me
Ah, you're the best thing that ever happened to me
Oh, there have been times when times were hard
But always somehow I made it, I made it through
'Cause for every moment that I've spent hurting
There was a moment that I spent, ah, just loving you
If anyone should ever write my life story
For whatever reason there might be
Oh, you'll be there between each line of pain and glory
'Cause you're the best thing that ever happened to me
Oh, you're the best thing that ever happened to me
I know, you're the best thing, oh, that ever happened to me
This post is purely personal and probably self-indulgent. Possibly I shouldn't talk about it in a public forum. I have noticed a change in myself. For the past almost 25 years, I have sung the above song, always to my beloved martyred husband. I think I was reminding myself of all the happiness, the good times we had had with our little nuclear family consisting of Mani, my husband, Sandeep, our child and myself. (Not forgetting also my huge joint family, of course, but for this purpose, I was thinking just about the three of us.)
When I would feel a bit down, lonely, perhaps verging on - horrors! - self-pity, I would remind myself that, while there had been a lot of problems and some tragedy in my life, overall it has been a pleasant life, full of all sorts of wonderful things. I had had a love from my husband that most people only dream about. I was the adored, pampered, spoiled wife of a very good and loving man and the mother of an equally sweet, loving saintly Sikhling. Since I seem to be writing a bit of a tribute to the great males in my life, let me mention in passing that my Dad was also a great man who took great pains with my education, gently - usually - moulding me into the woman I am now. I have had to remind myself of these blessings from time to time.
So I have often found myself singing this song to my dear Mani.
Last week, while on my daily walk, I found myself singing it again. But, astonished, I realised, with a difference. No longer was I singing to Mani. Walking and seeing Vaheguru, Akaal Purakh, whatever term you might wish to use, I was singing not to a beloved man, but to my Guru.
I suddenly realised what really was "the best thing that ever happened to me." However great this man Mani was/is, however great our love, these things are effects. Now I see and realise the Cause. I know this is all very obvious and something I have always been taught, but this was an 'aha!' moment, an epiphany for me. Now it is a part of my personal reality. (I told you this was personal and self-indulgent.)
Life is hard, yes, otherwise what would be the point? Life is also good. Akaal Purakh is good. Our dhan dhan ten Nanaks are good. Our eternal Guru is good. So much goodness around us. So much greatness.
"Who in such a world as this cannot heal his sorrows? Welcome this sweet sunset bliss. Sunrise comes tomorrow."
Anonymous poet
International Women's Day - 2009
I am referring, of course to the murdering of our daughters before they are born, what is called female foeticide. I have named this the Fourth Ghallugharah, and it is still in full swing. SHAME ON US!
No my dear brothers and sisters, I refuse to let up until this horror is ended!
****************************************************
Unfortunately, I can do nothing better than to reproduce my post from International Women's Day of last year, 2008.
Maybe next year...
There is a lovely little nursery rhyme that every child in the UK and Canada knows. I am not so sure about the children of India, so I reproduce it here: (If you'd like to hear the melody go to Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.)
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
As long as I have been expressing myself publicly (about 2 years), I
have said that the most dangerous enemy we Sikhs have is not the
Indian government, the Deras or even the Hindus. It is no force from
outside our own community. It is ourselves. We are fast destroying
ourselves through one particular practice. I have here a little poem
I wrote about that. It unites IWD and our self-destructive
tendencies.
Tinkle, tinkle, little boy,
Bring your parents so much joy.
You're their diamond, you're their pearl,
They're so glad you aren't a girl.
Punjab practice straight from hell.
Very soon its evil tell.
You are looking for a wife,
Someone who will share your life.
Not a woman to be found,
Rotting foetus in the ground.
Guru's teaching has been taught,
But its meaning never sought.
Daughter is a gift from God,
Not a dead, decaying clod.
Without woman, there's no life,
No more children, no more wife.
Guru's teachings die off now,
Go and worship sacred cow.
Tinkle, tinkle, little boy,
Bring your parents so much joy.
HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY,
WHY TRY TO FIT IN?
YOU WERE BORN TO STAND OUT!