My ‘Charne Lagna’

I humbly seek blessings for our beloved Geet, the younger daughter of Shivpreet, who did her Kirtan last Sunday at Tri-Valley  Gurdwara Sahib. This moment feels deeply symbolic, completing a sacred circle in our family’s spiritual journey. It brings back cherished memories of my own path at similar age toward faith, guided by my revered Bhua Ji.

Historic pic during wheat harvesting season in 1976 when we visited Mastuana Sahib to offer our first produce offerings to Gurdwara Sahib. L to R My Dad S Vasdev Singh, grandma Sardarni Karam Devi, Bhua ji Sardarni Nanak Bai, and her son Sardar Partap Singh and Harvinder with Shiv as a toddler in the lap

I still vividly remember when my father insisted that my sister Bhagwant and I receive Bhua Ji blessings and her certification for doing a correct Paath before ˜Charni Lagna’. 

During one summer visit to Badbar, after taking our showers, both of us recited Jap Ji Sahib before her. Her approval and blessings filled our hearts with joy. She rewarded us with fresh, hot parathas dripping with white butter. We sat on a simple cotton mat near the fire, savoring every bite and feeling her love and grace envelop us. That beautiful moment remains etched in my heart even today.

I pray earnestly that Bhua Ji noble soul continues to reside at the lotus feet of Waheguru Ji, showering us with her divine blessings from above.

About my Identity

I believe that everyone, regardless of their background, turned to Sikhism only recently, about 300-400 years ago. Take me, for example: my father’s name was Vasdev, and my grandfather’s name was Bhagwan Das. This shows that not all of us come from warrior backgrounds. Sikhism welcomed people from all walks of life, including various classes and professions.

Surrounded by son and grandson 

Mostly, it was the Jats who became Sikhs—they were a different class altogether. Naturally strong and warrior-like, they were often the ones who stepped forward to fight first, defending and protecting everyone else. Over time, others took on various roles—some joined the Army, others took up jobs or ventured into business. At the core, though, we were all the same, united by shared values.

However, as politics began to interfere, rationalism and divisions started to sprout. Personally, I feel I’m more like a man with white collar attitude than a warrior, and my behavior reflects that. But above all, I am spiritual first. That, to me, defines my identity more than anything else.

Bhagat Puran Singh and our family

Bhagat Puran Singh has always been an extraordinary figure in my life, someone I deeply respect and admire for his selfless service and unwavering dedication to humanity. Universally regarded as one of the most inspiring figures in modern Sikhi, his life’s work has touched countless lives. From setting up Pingalwara, a home for the physically and mentally disabled, to his environmental advocacy long before it became a global concern, his contributions are unparalleled. Despite having no formal higher education, his scholarship and writings reveal a profound connection with the Guru that continues to inspire generations.

I find it remarkable that Bhagat Puran Singh was born as Ramji Das in Ludhiana district to a humble family. His journey into Sikhi was triggered by an experience that still resonates deeply with me. As a teenager, he stayed in a mandir during his travels and was treated with disdain by the Brahmins, who made him clean the temple and ate in front of him without offering him food. Later, at a Gurdwara, he experienced seva for the first time. Not only was he given shelter without demands, but he was also offered food and even a warm glass of milk by the sevadars. This stark contrast moved him to embrace Sikhi and dedicate his life to seva.

His work at Pingalwara stands as a testament to his deep compassion and tireless efforts for those in need. For decades, Bhagat Puran Singh served humanity selflessly, educating people about pollution, deforestation, and the importance of environmental stewardship. He even returned his Padma Shri in protest after the attack on Darbar Sahib in 1984, a powerful act that underscored his unwavering commitment to the Khalsa Panth.

I feel proud that my family and our extended family from Mohalla Aghapura Multan have supported Pingalwara generously over the years. My father believed strongly in donating to this cause, as did my in-laws, who both willed contributions to Pingalwara. Harvinder and I have continued this tradition, donating regularly to support the incredible work started by Bhagat Puran Singh. It is an honor to contribute, even in a small way, to a mission that reflects the very essence of Sikhi: seva, compassion, and care for all.

Sardar Baghel Singh Who captured Delhi

Sardar Baghel Singh

Sardar Baghel Singh’s historic entry into Delhi on January 18, 1774, resonates deeply with my heritage and family’s history, for it reflects the spirit of courage, leadership, and devotion that I’ve always admired and sought to honor in my life. Baghel Singh’s Karor Singhia Misl, a powerful force with 12,000 well-trained horsemen, reminds me of the unity and strength our family has valued across generations. Just as Baghel Singh was able to rally over 40,000 soldiers under his command, our family, despite its diverse branches and roles, has always come together to uphold shared principles and goals.

Baghel Singh’s qualities as a leader, negotiator, and devout Sikh hold personal significance for me. My Ancestor’s commitment to the faith transformed not just their lives but also set a spiritual foundation for our family, much like Baghel Singh’s leadership inspired the Sikh misls.

The Karor Singhia Misl’s operations in south-east Punjab and beyond remind me of the sacrifices made by my ancestors. Baghel Singh’s campaigns into territories like Meerut, Khurja, and Agra evoke the resilience and strategic vision of leaders who preserved their identity and stood against adversities. It is this legacy that continues to inspire me to lead my life with integrity and fortitude, ensuring that my children and grandchildren remain connected to their roots and proud of their heritage.

As I pen down my memoirs and recount our family’s journey, the stories of such historic Sikh leaders reinforce the idea that we are part of a larger narrative of resilience and faith. Just as Baghel Singh left a mark on the land and history of Delhi, my family’s contributions, from house “Karamvas” in Badbar to inspiring future generations like Gobind, Jania and Geet, reflect our commitment to leaving a meaningful legacy.

First Painting of Guru Nanak Dev ji

Dhan Dhan Guru Nanak Dev ji Maharaj Painting

The thought of an authentic 16th-century painting of Guru Nanak Dev Ji, painted not from imagination but by a contemporary witness, is deeply moving. If this masterpiece by Kamal ud-Din Behzad truly exists in the Baghdad Museum, it is one of the most precious historical links to Guru Nanak’s Udasis, where he spread the eternal message of Oneness and Truth.

For our family, this connection feels even more profound. Our roots trace back to Mohalla Aghapura in Multan, where our ancestors settled after moving from Ghazni—walking the same lands that once echoed with the wisdom of Bhai Nand Lal Ji. 

Guru Nanak’s teachings have shaped our family’s path in different ways. It was through his wife, a local Sikh Khatri woman, that Bhai Nand Lal Ji was introduced to Sikhism, a faith that he later embraced wholeheartedly, becoming one of Guru Gobind Singh Ji’s most cherished disciples. 

Dad Sardar Vasdev Singh and my mom Sardarni Savitri Devi in 1951 in Panipat.

Centuries later, my father, Sardar Vasdev Singh, reaffirmed this connection when he took to his present farm during the Singh Sabha movement in mid 1920s, adopting the full Sikh identity with beard and turban. Today, my son Shivpreet, grandchildren—Gobind, Jania, and Geet—are rediscovering their roots in their own unique ways, keeping alive the legacy of our ancestors.

Sardar Gobind Singh, Sardar Preet Mohan Singh, Sardar Shivpreet Singh.

Imagining Guru Nanak in Baghdad, engaging with Sufi scholars, his divine presence captured by an artist’s hand, fills me with reverence. This is more than just art; it is a testament to his journey and a connection to our own lineage—stretching from Multan, to Badbar, to where we stand today. His Bani and his legacy remain our guiding light, but to witness such a painting would be like looking into the very soul of history itself.

My buddy Mehar Singh

Mehar Singh has been my friend for 64 years. I still remember the very first day we met—it was in the common room of our hostel when rooms were being allotted, and we were supposed to pick our roommates. I noticed a handsome young man with a small patka on his head, fair-skinned, with a very light beard, standing there, looking somewhat astonished as he searched for a possible roommate or friend.

At the same time, I was in a similar situation—alone and looking for someone to share a room with. Our eyes met, and he walked up to me, asking if I had a roommate. I said no. He had noticed me in class earlier, as he was also pursuing electrical engineering. I was delighted when he suggested we be roommates, and we both agreed to submit our names together.

However, the very next day, I found myself in a dilemma. Another boy, Devanchand Sehgal, was from my city, Panipat. He had already connected with my parents and approached me, expecting that, as citymates, we would naturally share a room. In those days, there was an unspoken rule that people from the same hometown often roomed together. Meanwhile, I came to know that Mehar Singh had also found someone else. Both of us, feeling awkward about the situation, eventually changed our decisions. But rather than drifting apart, we became even closer friends.

From that moment on, we were inseparable. In class, we always sat together—front row, right-hand side. I believe Mehar Singh’s roll number was 98, and mine was 107 (though I need to confirm with him). Our friendship carried beyond college into our professional lives. Our first jobs were at the same place in PWD, B&R (Electrical) at Karnal, and since Mehar Singh had joined a month earlier, he had already settled in. He was much smarter, more handsome, and more hardworking than me, so I was relieved to have his guidance as I adjusted to the new role.

Soon, he applied for a job in Delhi, as it offered better pay. He was selected as an inspector in DESU, the Delhi Electric Supply Undertaking, and left his Punjab job. Inspired by his move, I also decided to shift from Punjab to Delhi and followed him there a few months later. Mehar Singh was in the enforcement department, inspecting industrial units, especially in areas like Paharganj and Multani Dhanda. We often visited him and went along his inspection, where small industrialists, eager to stay in his good books, would treat us to Coca-Cola, which cost 25 paisa back then—a significant treat for us young engineers. Sometimes, he even arranged for us to have lunch, and those moments strengthened our friendship.

Years passed, and when I was preparing to move to the U.S., Mehar Singh invited me and my wife to his home for dinner. His wife cooked a wonderful meal, and we had a heartfelt evening together. His daughter was married to a boy in Fresno, California, which meant our families now had a connection overseas as well. However, a misunderstanding arose between me and his son-in-law, which upset Mehar Singh. He later complained, saying, “Preetmohan, you didn’t behave well with my son-in-law.” I apologized, though I never felt the need to open up that chapter again.

Despite this, our bond remained intact. When my son Shivpreet was getting married, I met Mehar Singh again—either I invited him, or he happened to be there at the pre-wedding dinner at the Taj Hotel. The details are a bit blurry, but what remains clear is that we reconnected.

When Mehar Singh visited the U.S. in late nineties, we somehow missed meeting each other. A few years ago, I finally got back in touch with him through his relatives. When we spoke on the phone, he laughed and said, “Preetmohan, we had love at first sight!”—referring to our instant connection on that very first day in the hostel.

Looking back, it amazes me how our friendship has lasted for over six decades, through different cities, careers, continents, and even misunderstandings. But true friendship never fades—it just waits for the right moment to pick up where it left off.

A Pencil Sketch of Sri Guru Nanak Dev ji Maharaj

The sketch of Shri Guru Nanak Dev ji Maharaj is enshrined in the corner of our Baba Ji Room

When I first landed in the USA in Feb 1991, I carried with me not just dreams but also a deep sense of uncertainty. Jobs were scarce, and despite applying to nearly a hundred companies with hard copies of my resume, I didn’t even receive a single interview call. Writing that resume itself was a challenge—it took me three long months to draft, refine, and type it out. Yet, despite all my efforts, I couldn’t secure a job.

Harvinder and me do the Sehaj Path

During this difficult time, my brother-in-laws Jaggi and Baggi, who were in the convenience store business, helped me acquire a liquor store. I wasn’t happy about running it, but it was a means of survival. Meanwhile, Harvinder took up an assembly job in a tech company that paid nine dollars an hour. One of the biggest reliefs was that her job provided medical insurance, which also covered my ailing father, whom we had brought along with us. Knowing that he could see a doctor in case of an emergency gave us some peace of mind.

Shiv reaching the climax with reading of ‘Noauvan Mahal Shalok’

Our daily routine was exhausting. In the first half of the day, while Harvinder was at work, I managed the store. Later, we had an employee take over, but we had to cut down his hours to save money, so Harvinder started working at the store in the evenings as well.

Geet is thrilled with Kartha Prasad disbursing

Amidst all these struggles, I found solace in an old passion—sketching. I had a deep desire to create a pencil sketch of Shri Guru Nanak Dev Ji. Finding the right materials took time; I searched for an Art-Shop near our store and finally found one. I spent a few days selecting the perfect paper, pencils, and colored pencils, with some help from the shopkeeper.

Gobind was introduced with Guru Sewa at an early age.

Once I had everything, I began sketching. I started from the top, working on the turban first, and as I progressed, I carefully rolled up the paper towards the ceiling to protect the finished parts. 

Gobind ‘Charni Lagana’  being initiated to reading of Guru Granth Sahib

I was fortunate to have access to a picture of Guru Nanak Dev Ji lying in my brother-in-law’s office, and I borrowed it for reference. It took me about 140 to 150 hours to complete this enormous task, but when I finally finished a huge sketch of 8’-3”, I felt an immense sense of accomplishment.

The sketch of Sh Guru Nanak Dev ji in our Jangpura Ext house.

This wasn’t the first time I had sketched Guru Nanak Dev Ji. Back in 1970, I had created a black-and-white sketch of Guru Nanak and proudly decorated my house in Jangpura with it. That artwork had been a source of personal pride and spiritual connection, and now, decades later, I found myself returning to the same divine subject during one of the most challenging phases of my life. 

Jania is trained to do ‘Bhog Lao’ by crossing the Karha Parsad with Kirpan.

The ambience in our prayer room seemed to change as all family members took on their favorite roles in our worship, just as shown in the pictures. 

Harvinder is doing Ardaas.

The presence of Guru Nanak Dev Ji’s image filled our home with a sense of peace and devotion, strengthening our faith during those difficult times.

Next, I had a strong desire to get the new sketch framed. However, when I inquired about the cost at a nearby mall, I realized it was beyond my means. I had to wait a couple of months until I could afford it. Eventually, I gathered the courage to return to the shop and struck a deal for $287—a significant amount in those days. Transporting the large framed sketch from the mall to our apartment was another challenge, but we managed.

Gobind is now regular to do Ardas

I dedicated the sketch to my dear mother, late Sardarni Savitri Devi. When the word spread within the community about my large portrait of Guru Nanak Dev Ji, the president of Hayward Gurdwara Sahib, late Prof Dr. R.S. Sabharwal, requested to display it at the Gurdwara for a month. It was a great honor for me to have my artwork showcased in such a sacred place.

Shilpy takes her turn to do Ardas.

Looking back, I am deeply grateful to Waheguru for blessing me with the talent to sketch. Despite the hardships of those early days in America, I found comfort and strength through my art. Creating this sketch was not just an artistic endeavor—it was a spiritual journey, a prayer in pencil and paper.

Right from day one of my life, I have looked up to the Gurus, who in turn have bestowed tremendous blessings upon me and my family. Their guidance has been my anchor, and their grace has illuminated my path through every challenge and triumph.

Lohri 2025

I have decided to forgo Lohri celebrations this year in light of the deadly wildfires raging in Southern California. Given the devastation and the risks posed by fires, 

it doesn’t feel right to light bonfires while so many are suffering. Instead, I will take this time to pray for those affected, for the firefighters battling the blazes, and for the safety of all communities in harm’s way.

Lohri is a festival of warmth, gratitude, and togetherness. This year, I choose to honor its spirit by standing in solidarity with those facing loss and hardship. If anyone wishes to join me, I encourage supporting relief efforts and extending help to those in need. We did formal bonfire by burning a few papers though.

Wildfire in Southern California -Jan 2025

It is truly devastating. Entire towns have vanished, leaving behind only memories of what once stood.

I passed through that area just a couple of months ago. Millions of well-to-do people had built their homes on those rolling hills, stretching endlessly in a carefully woven landscape. 

Driving through them on six- to eight-lane roads carved into the hills was exhilarating. And now, in the blink of an eye, it’s all gone.

One story that haunts me is of a man who left to pick up his children. By the time he returned—just two hours later—everything had disappeared. He was so grateful that he could save his family as reported on National TV. Stories like these will continue to emerge, reminding us that there is a force beyond human understanding, one that humbles even the mightiest among us. 

Today in Gurdwara Sahib

We are praying to God to have mercy and save all those in trouble. May He grant strength to those who have lost everything and bring comfort to the suffering.