As far as I remember, I have been going to Bangla Sahib Gurudwara every Saturday night, since forever. Me and my family spend a good amount of time there. We pray, eat a lot of kadha prashad, enjoy the langar some days and have a peaceful time. I always notice people who I see there every Saturday; I think that’s pretty natural. Last week, mom and I decided to have langar for dinner; we love the dal! So I sat on the floor and looked around. Saw the person sitting right next to me; "I know him!" Since I was a kid, I had seen him standing outside the gurudwara. He used to stand with his palm open and with a stick on the other hand and was in a pretty dirty condition always. Sadly, he was blind. My dad, before we leave the place, would always give him some money. I had seen that man grow old, literally. Somewhere in my heart, I or in fact everybody, I am sure, feels helpless when see such people. I used to wonder if he could actually manage himself some food. But today, I was sitting right next to him. We were both eating the same menu. We both had our plates being washed at the same basin, with same water. We both had our rotis coming from the same chakki. Whenever the sevak filled his plate with dal or salad or vegetables, they would ask him to touch and check. I guess he was their (sevaks) favourite kid. They talked to him and say ‘le, hor le yaar!’ (Take some more) and he would smile. His plate was full, but like a very good boy, he finished it all.
I guess this is why they call it ‘community langar’, not because the community people have it, but because people and I mean ‘all the people’, sit together and make a community. A community from which people step out with stomachs full and hearts pleased.
He stood up and was about to step on his own plate. I pulled the empty plate and kept it with mine. A sevak came running from another end of the hall and took him outside, to the place where I usually see him standing. I saw him walk away and the thought of all of it made me smile and have Goosebumps!
