I am woken from the cold marble floor by a tall, spear-wielding man with a turban reaching to the heavens. “Head”. He pats his hand on his forehead and points to the scarf lying by my side. It is 3 in the morning and I have broken yet another one of the the temples many taboos. Among covering your head at all times, bare-feet are a must and pointing feet towards the temple will bring you many scornful looks. The place is called is called Harmandir Sahib, better known by outsiders as the Golden Temple, the holiest spot in Sikhism. This is a place paralleled by no other in the world, a place where live religious concerts are held 24/7 by some of India’s most reputable musicians, a place where swords and axes are frequently carried by children and women alike. Where else are food kitchens free and open to the temples nearly 60,000 pilgrims a day, all prepared by volunteers? No where but in Amritsar, I am sure.
The complex is a place of magic and wonder. Initially built by one of the Sikhs holy 10 gurus as a bathing facility for the poor, it is now a place where pilgrims and visitors alike can attend lectures on current ecological and economical problems facing the world, grab some delicious food and chai (both of which Amritsar is quite reputable for), and sit and chat with the endless flow of smiling, turbaned faces, and kindly holy men. The massive influx of visitors can visit the temple by one of the towns many free buses, drop off their shoes and bags at a free locker, and stay indefinitely, blankets provided free of charge, of course. Seems to good to be true? I thought so as well until I was able to meet a British-Indian Sikh who’m I met at nearly 2 in the morning as I was taking the photograph below
. We spent the rest of the night roaming the temple, eating Punjabi sweets and discussing life as viewed from Sikhism. The religion is based off the teachings of their 10 gurus and focuses around introspective meditation and charity. As the chai flowed with the stars, and the pilgrims began to rise, I had hardly realized nearly 6 hours had passed. I can see why many of the pilgrims upon arriving to this amazing place choose never to leave.
The following day included a trip to the Indian-Pakistan border. The border is basically a place for each country to openly strut their stuff. Like a peacock ‘s mating ritual, the guards plume their feathers and prance about the gate high-kicking and grunting, much to the crowd’s delight. High spirits are abundant, and never before have I felt such a sense of Indian pride, colors, dancing, and music flowing against the stark contrast of the monochromatic, gender separated Pakistan.