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How I Learnt To Deal With A Lack of Sangat

Updated: Apr 20, 2022

I still remember an incident from when I was a child: a young me walking alongside my best friend and proudly telling her that I was the only person with the name ‘Navneet’ in the whole world. That is how little my world was. How non-existent my connection with my roots was. But gladly, life had other plans for me.

A little insight into my childhood: I grew up in a small town in Germany, my family being the only Sikh and Punjabi family there. Everyone around me was white and Non-Sikh. I spoke broken Punjabi and my knowledge of Punjab was limited to the statement: ‘that’s where my grandparents live’. The only connection that I had to Sikhi was through my parents; both have played a major role in strengthening my belief.


The nearest Gurdwara was a few hours away. The work schedule of my parents made it hard for us to visit the Gurdwara regularly. My parents noticed the lack of Sangat and influence in our life and decided to take action. My father would hold ‘Sikhi-classes’ every Sunday. I remember him searching through the internet to find some study-material in German for sisters. He would teach us Sikh philosophies, the importance of Simran and about Guru Nanak Sahib Ji. Later we moved to Punjab, as my parents felt that it was the correct way to teach us our roots and history. It was here that I learnt Gurmukhi.

The first school I joined was the Guru Harkrishan School. The speciality about that school is that they teach Sikhi and Gurbani. That was a magical experience! For the first time I was surrounded by Sikh kids; all of them had long hair and spoke Punjabi. I clearly remember the first Gurbani-period I attended. The whole class was reciting Japji Sahib! Little-Me was mesmerized. Seeing all those kids do Paath together was just amazing. That was the first time I felt the love towards Gurbani. A wish was born inside me in that class; one day I too wanted to be able to recite Japji Sahib the same way. I later changed schools, but those memories stayed with me.

That was the time when my Mother taught me how to read Gurbani and do Paath. We started with doing just the Mool Mantar every day. Oh, was I proud of myself! And then I started doing Japji Sahib; first just the first Paurhi, then gradually increasing it to 5 pauris and then moving towards doing the whole Japji Sahib. Till date, this achievement is what I count as my biggest success.

I lived in a Sikh community for a long time and then returned to Germany, to a white school, in my little white town. My life was uprooted once again.

The last time I moved, I landed amongst people that I could call ‘my people’. Now I was back among people I couldn’t associate with. They didn’t have long hair. Their brothers didn’t tie a patka. Their parents didn’t recite Paath. Once again there was no Gurdwara I could go to. No Katha or Kirtan programs I could attend. From the first day I entered the classroom, I was suddenly very aware of how different I was. Standing between all those white kids I felt like a hairy bear, walking around non-elegantly. My hair felt too curly and heavy, my mustache too big, my eyebrows too bushy, my hands too hairy, my skin too dark. I remember trying to stand at a distance from everyone, hoping they wouldn’t notice my mustache. My clothing style changed and suddenly consisted of full-sleeved tops, the sleeves of which I would pull over my hands to hide the hair on my fingers. The worst was the sports period though. In India, we were all walking around in frocks with our legs all natural. There, the hair on the legs didn’t matter; everyone had it. No one cared. But in Germany it was the opposite. Here it seemed to catch everyone’s eye, it seemed to define me. My confidence broke. I became shy, avoided everyone, would hide in the washrooms during the breaks and spend my time in the library. You can probably guess that I didn’t really make any friends in that time. I moved back to India for a while. I longed for people with my skin colour, with my hair structure, people who understood where I came from.

That was then. Now I study in a different country. Here too I am once again alone. Alone in the sense that there is no Sikh community here. No Sangat that I can confide in. No Gurudwara I can sit in, listening to Kirtan. But this time, it's different. Because here, I have created my own Sangat.

There are only a few Sikh students here. Ideally, we would all be one community, creating a space where we could talk about Sikhi and strengthen our faith. Unfortunately, that’s not how it works.

  • So, I changed my approach. I have included my Non-Sikh friends in my path towards my faith. I learn from them. I have made them my Sangat.

  • From my Muslim friends, I have learnt to be more vocal about my way of living. I love how they use words like astaghfirullah (God forbid) and inshallah (with God’s will) in their normal speech. It has inspired me to use Satnam (especially after I sneeze) and Waheguru mehar kare in my speech. Instead of saying ‘God’, I have started saying ‘Waheguru’.

  • My Christian friends, through their references to various Bible passages, have inspired me to study more about Sikh history and to make decisions by using Sakhis.

  • My Hindu friends never fail to amaze me with their excitement for their celebrations. That has inspired me to show my excitement for the Sikhi-related events.

  • And from my atheist friends I have learnt to be unapologetic about my own beliefs.

Every Vaisakhi and every Diwali I get together with my Sikh and Non-Sikh friends and we celebrate. I teach them about the Sikh history and they tell me about their faith,both encouraging each other to learn more about their own faith.

It would have been nice to have Sikh friends here as well, to be able to discuss Gurbani and certain pangtiyan. To pray together. But with time I learnt to accept the Hukam. It is Hukam that I don’t have a Sikh community here. It is this Hukam that has given me the chance to educate people about Sikhi. To spread knowledge. And being one of the few Sikhs here, I make sure that whatever I am teaching must be correct. Which makes me read more about Sikhi, ultimately helping me understand Sikhi a little bit more.

When I look back at my school days in Germany, I wonder how different my experience would have been if I had been more accepting of my identity. If my faith had been stronger. If I had been more confident. Instead of hiding, I could have made friends. I could have given them an insight into Sikhi. Had I been stronger, I could have educated a few souls. Now when I scroll through Instagram and see young Sikhs proudly just being Sikhs, my heart feels warm. I admire their strength and courage. And wish that I had been so strong.

Sometimes when I walk through the city centre, I walk past the Mosque. And when I hear the Azan and see Muslims getting together to pray, I stop and imagine how it would be to have a Gurdwara here. And to hear Rehras being recited. To be able to bow down in front of Guru Sahib. However, in those moments I am utterly grateful for the existence of the internet. To be able to listen to Aarti over YouTube for example is a blessing in itself.

Well…that’s been my journey until now. I’ve learned about the existence of other ‘Navneets’ in the world and have been able to strengthen my identity as a Sikh. But, I am still working on my Sikhi and will happily keep working all my life. Me being where I am, being surrounded by who I am, it’s all Hukam I believe.

 
About The Author

Navneet Kaur Boparai

Navneet Kaur, is a Punjabi Sikh Woman from Germany that is on her way to becoming a doctor.

She loves the Punjabi culture and loves to discuss the influence Sikhi has had on the culture. She wants to bring Sikhi into the discussion of world religions and teach people about the teachings of Sikhi. Apart from that, Navneet is an enthusiastic reader and loves to go on Hikes! She is looking forward to sharing her thoughts on religion and what Sikhi is with SikhTeens.

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