Karma On A Platter-2

Karma On A Platter-2

Muniza Bibi arrives and exits within minutes, effortlessly carrying two large pails of steaming vessels, overflowing with multi-coloured, multigrain broth — a nutritious daliya. The spring in her step and her enthusiasm belie her age. The dignity of the giver and the receiver become one, creating an almost palpable human bond.

Scooping out generous helpings, she is done with this round very quickly. She convinces me these pots have never been empty for centuries. I also have no difficulty in believing her when she shyly whispers that feeding wanderers and seekers at this gracious eating centre is more refreshing than sleeping on a soft bed.

Badshah Singh sits under a blue tarp, lost in the sorting, cleaning, and chopping of a sea of green leafy saags. He is humming verses from Gurbani:

Flamingoes migrate hundreds of miles leaving their young ones behind.

Who feeds the newborn chicks left behind? Who fends for them?

…One who joins a supportive community swims across the ocean of life….

— Raag Gujri, Fifth Nanak (Rehras)

Badshahji’s actions are so fluid, so fast, that it takes me a while to notice that his long, outstretched left leg is wooden. It is attached by straps to his torso. I ask him, “What are you cooking, Bhraji?” His quick response: “I am cooking good karma, just as I hope you are, with your pen and camera. We are all cooking, one way or other. Some of us eat it alone. Others share it with the sangat (community) at the gurdwara.”

Badshah Of Compassion

As he invites me to share a meal, he hobbles into the stream of people awaiting lunch. Everyone makes way for him, including women and children who are unloading buckets of chopped and washed vegetables into huge pans. He picks up a pail of dal and first serves the waiting children, walking stick expertly tucked under his free armpit. He then passes around a basket of rotis, never throwing them, but gently handing them out in pairs, like prasada. The receiver too accepts it with a similar reverence — hands cupped, arms outstretched, a prayer on their lips. There is a faint chorus, Wahe Guru — Wonderous Lord.

“Never eat without contributing your labour. It will not digest well. Work for your food with service towards the community,” he says, as we wash our dishes. Badshah Singh is Badshah of Compassion. His words bring to mind a verse:

Eating a langar meal,Cross-legged on the floor Has a simple appeal Of humanity’s inner core.The endless ritual langar Simple, free love feast Hatred will not mar this bridge of Great and Least. This bridge of West and East.

Perhaps the Badshah and the Poet, a foreign traveller — who had scribbled these lines in a book at the Golden Temple — are fellow travellers with a common muse. It could be the muse of sharing food.

Lord, don’t expect me to meditate on an empty stomach!

So here, take back your prayer beads.

I do wish to walk along your path;

I’m free of all debts and obligations.

Whom do I ask, if not you?

All I need is two kilos flour, a little ghee, a pinch of salt and a handful of dal.

That’s enough for two meals a day!

Om Namah Shivay