Learn how one woman and a tender aged young boy take on five armed Turk
soldiers
In the forest, Bijai Singh was passing his days in meditation and singing the
praises of the Lord God, when a Pundit came to disturb his peace. However, he
was not a person who could be unnerved by such tidings. After bidding farewell
to the priest, Bijai Singh purchased some flour, came back and had the meals
cooked. After the meals, all the three members of the family engaged
themselves in their routine work. During the day they used to prepare the
baskets with Tamarix diocia. Bijai Singh, in the disguise of a ‘Rangher’
would go to sell these baskets in town after every two or three days. He
supported his family with the sale proceeds of these baskets, which did not
amount to more than two or three annas a day, but with which the contented and
the unrepining fellow were quite satisfied. One really marvels at those Sikhs,
who, forsaking all the comforts of life, had voluntarily accepted privations
and sufferings, banishment and imprisonments, in order to uphold the integrity
and sanctity of their Faith. Every Sikh must draw inspiration from them,
because by adopting and upholding the Sikh way of life, one can redeem not
only one's own life, but also that of the whole Panth. On the third day after
the departure of the Pundit, at about sunset Bijai Singh went to town to sell
baskets. After him, Sheel Kaur and her son, while doing their work, kept
themselves engaged in casual talks like this:
Son: Respected mother, I did not like that Pundit, somehow. Mother: But why my
dear child? Son: Respected mother, I don’t know why but, somehow he has not
appealed to my eyes. Mother: My dear son, as your father has said in the
religious discourse yesterday, no body should be denounced for his or her
caste. Our religion does not approve of it. Similarly, it is not possible to
judge a person by his outward appearance. A person is good or bad according to
how he acts. He alone is bad whose actions are not good. Son: Then revered
mother, why do the Sikhs fight the Mughals? Mother: My dear child, not because
they are ‘Turks’ or because of their creed or colour. It is because the
actions of the Mughals who happen to be rulers are not good. Having being
blessed with power by God, they should exercise it for the promotion of Truth
and Justice. But instead, they are inhumanly cruel towards innocent and poor
people. Son: That is all right. And yet I have not liked the Brahmin. May be
his actions are not good. Mother: Have you see him do anything evil? Son: No.
Mother: Why then, do you call him evil. It is not good to call a person evil.
It is not good to call a person evil on the basis of suspicion alone. Son: I
am obsessed with this thought and I just can not shake it off. Mother
(despairingly): My dear son, suspicion seems to have mastered you. Suspicion
is inimical and defiles the mind making it unfit for divine presence. My very
dear child, this is a mental malady, therefore let us pray to God that you be
rid of it. Putting aside their work, the mother and the son went inside, and
with folded hands began to pray thus “O’ God, the Benevolent Lord,
suspicion has entered the mind of my son; we are helpless to cure the malady
and seek your divine help. Pray, wash the dirt of suspicion from Thy slave
with the holy water of Thy grace and render it pure. You are our sole stay and
support. Just as you protect us from wild animals in this jungle, similarly
protect our mind from the worldly sins so that we may be worthy of finding
room near your holy feet.” As the Sikh lady opened her eyes after these
prayers, she heard some cries. As the mother saw through a slit in the door,
she saw a thin lean fellow was being held by a Turk soldier, while two others
were holding his arms and yet another was thrashing him, saying, “You
accursed fellow, why have you needlessly troubled us by leading us into this
difficult and thorny bush, where our bodies have been badly bruised. The
onewho was being beaten was pleading for mercy saying, “Please spare me, all
the signs are available now and the place must be quite near.” Just as
ripples of waves disturb the peaceful surface of a sea before a storm,
similarly there were signs of disturbance on the face of the young Sikh lady.
Staring intently ahead and hearing with rapt attention, the brave woman had a
foreboding of what was going to happen. She hugged her child to her bosom and
said, “My dear son, you were right. The Pundit has proved to be treacherous.
Deep within my heart, I too did have some misgivings, but I had managed to
curb them. You must take heart now and act bravely. It is time to act
according to the instructions of your father. Let us first offer prayers.”
At this, both of them joined their hands and prayed, “O’ Lord of aigrette
(Guru Gobind Singh) and Master of armies, a horde of enemy is advancing and a
hand to hand fight is inevitable. I am a feeble woman and he is just an
innocent child, the two of us are faced with a formidable foe. You, in your
mercy, exalt the low and support the poor. Pray, grant us the strength to face
the enemy. May we lose our lives but not our Faith.”
By the end of these prayers, she realised the hut had been found out and the
enemy was quite at hand. Addressing her son, she said, “Make haste to take
up arms. Be very brave, do not be afraid of these Mughals and give them a good
fight. Even if I happen to die, don’t ever lose your heart. Nor should you
surrender your arms, even if you have to lay down your life. Don’t ever
compromise with the enemy. Our Guru is on our side.”
The lion-hearted boy seized hold of the gun which was always kept loaded for
emergency and also armed himself with a sword and a shield. The mother also
took up a sword and a shield and both of them came out into the yard. By that
time the enemy had also reached there. On its arrival the brave lady asked
them calmly but firmly, "Who are you?" "We are soldiers and
have come to arrest you. If you surrender voluntarily, well and good,
otherwise we will have to use force to arrest you." The soldier had
hardly uttered word, 'arrest', when the boy pressed the trigger of the gun and
the bullet hit him on the forehead killing him on the spot. Four of the
remaining soldiers pushed forward in anger while the Pundit hid him at a
distance. They were armed with swords alone because, on coming to know from
the Pundit that they were of saintly dispositions, the soldiers had not
expected them to put up a fight. Meanwhile, when one of the soldiers tried to
scale the hedge, the brave lady, with her sword, struck him on his shoulder
with such force that he fell face down. Another blow from the lady cut through
his neck. The remaining three soldiers, broke open the door and together fell
upon the lion-hearted lady like an elephant. Meanwhile, the boy had reloaded
the gun and from behind a cover fire straight into the chest of another
soldier. Discarding the gun, he delivered such a quick blow with sword on the
leg of one of the remaining two soldiers who had surrounded his mother that he
fell down in a seriously wounded condition. But for this timely help from her
son, she would have found it difficult to escape the swords of the
professional soldiers. When his colleague was wounded, the other soldier tried
to hit the lady with his sword with full force, but the brave woman warded it
off with her own sword, which, however, was broken in the process. Rushing
immediately in, she caught hold of the gun, and using it as a stick, hit the
soldier who, in. the meanwhile, had wounded her son. If he had been able to
deliver another blow upon the boy, then he for sure would have died. But, with
the blow from the lady, his sword fell from his hand. Getting frightened, he
had hardly turned to gather his sword, when he received, yet another blow from
the wounded child, from the right and still another, with but of the gun, from
the left by the wounded mother. He fell fiat, bleeding profusely.
All the five soldiers had now been overpowered. Three of them were dead; the
fourth was on his last breaths with a bullet wound in his breast, while the
fifth, with a broken leg, although yet alive, was unable to walk. He was,
however, still plotting in his mind to avenge himself. He pretended to cry
with pain and pleaded for some water. The Sikhs are always inclined to do good
to others. Believing him to be in real agony Sheel Kaur brought him some
water. When she was trying to pour it, into his mouth, his right hand reached
for a dagger under his shirt. Sheel Kaur had her back towards the door and was
unaware that her husband had reached there. Instinctively realising that all
was not well back at the hut, he had hastened back. When he saw the dead
bodies, he realised that the inevitable had happened. Holding his breath, as
he looked inside, he saw his wife and son giving water to the foe. His
experienced mind immediately realised the danger, when he saw the hand of the
enemy groping under his shirt. Leaping forward with the dexterity of a deer,
he grasped the emerging hand with such force that only the end of the dagger
could touch his wife. When the son saw his mother bleeding from the wound
caused by the dagger held in the hand of the soldier, he inflicted a telling
wound on his shoulder with his own dagger. Now Bijai Singh fully examined the
bodies and found them cold and dead. The last of the soldiers however did have
some life left in him as yet. After searching him thoroughly, he tended his
wounds. After giving him some water he asked him to tell the truth behind the
happenings. The soldier, a Mughal by caste and renowned for his bravery, was
full of admiration for the enemy. A child and a woman had overpowered five of
the soldiers and were now offering him water and dressing his wounds. A sense
of gratitude overwhelmed him and he told them the story in the following
words:
"A resident of Lahore, today gave secret information to our officer that
some Sikhs were living in this jungle. Acting on this cue, our officer ordered
us to accompany him for the arrest of these Sikhs. Accordingly the five of us
accompanied this informant. Since about midday we have been wandering around
in the jungle and getting ourselves bruised by the thorny bushes, We were so
tired that we were inclined to disbelieve the informant and actually planned
to kill him. But his utterly servile begging compelled us to pity him and give
him more time to recover the trial. After wandering for a very long time, we
were able to find the place after all. As we had been told that the husband
would be away to the town at this hour, therefore, we thought that it would
not be difficult to arrest a woman and a mere child. As such, we were somewhat
complacent. But, your wife and son gave us such a hot reception that we were
completely taken aback and before we could recover we had already been beaten
and grilled. For a soldier, it is not ill to be wounded or even to die, but it
is a stigma and a shame to be humbled by a woman and a mere child. Today, I am
convinced that our days are now numbered and a community whose children and
women folk are so passionately committed to their faith that in its defence
they are willing to defy death, can never be conquered or forcibly subdued.
They are bound to rule sooner or later. For one would never again fight
against these valiant people and if I survive, I shall have nothing but praise
for their essential human qualities.
Bijai Singh: (Giving him a pat) But where is that informant? Mughal: He ran
away at the very first shot from the gun of your brave son. Sir, would you,
please tell me as to when did you train your child in the skill of using sword
and gun? Bijai Singh: The skill of handling arms is in the very blood of the
Sikhs, because we have such frequent recourse to them in defence of virtue.
Now, Bijai Singh, examined the wounds of his wife and son. There were not of
any serious nature. He offered his humble thanks to Guru Gobind Singh for his
mercy. He looked, in turn, towards the dead bodies of those cowards who had
attacked an innocent woman and a child and, then, towards his dear wife and
his beloved son. He hugged both of them to his bosom and said, "very well
done. Bravely have you wielded the Sword of the Khalsa and truly have you
upheld the glory of the 'Amrit' bestowed on us by Guru Gobind Singh. Such
indeed should be our Faith. Great indeed is the Guru who himself protects us
and redeems our honour."
(Story taken from Bhai Vir Singh’s novel, ‘BIJAI SINGH’.)
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