…unless the crime was self-hate. In a story that keeps getting sent my way, it turns out that a Sikh teenager in Scotland lied about having his hair cut during a racist attack (via the BBC):
The boy from Edinburgh reported the alleged racist attack in November and the case was widely publicised.
The cutting of his hair was an act which was seen as deeply insulting to the Sikh faith.
Lothian and Borders Police confirmed the attack had not taken place and said the boy had expressed remorse. They said no further action would be taken.
The Sikh community in the United Kingdom rallied around the child:
More than 200 Sikhs from around the UK gathered in Edinburgh to hold a two-hour prayer vigil following the boy’s claims.
It turns out that the boy cut his own hair and injured himself to simulate a crime:
The teenager is believed to have had personal problems and was also having cultural identity issues brought about by differences between his Sikh upbringing and Western society…
Police officers sent a report on the incident to the procurator fiscal but it is understood the teenager will not face charges for wasting police time because a prosecution is not felt to be in the public interest.
One thing I have a question about is the phrasing of this line from the BBC article I quoted throughout this post:
Hair is a religious symbol for Sikhs and it is strictly against their faith to have it shorn.
If it’s strictly against Sikhism to cut your hair, what does that make all the Sikhs who have done so? I’m not satisfied with some of the answers I’ve read online, so I’m going to more reliable sources, i.e. you. 🙂 Is it a question of only needing to keep your hair if you were baptized? I always thought it was an “ideally, you’re not supposed to cut it” situation, not a “strictly against Sikhism” one. I know I will be edified in oh, approximately four minutes. Such is the power of the Mutiny.
While I wait for that inevitable development, I’ll state that I’m really sad for this kid. As is the case for most of us, being a teenager sucked for me– and I feel compassion for him because I, too, so wanted to cut the hair that fell to my KNEES, which I wasn’t allowed to leave loose, let alone get rid of– but I still can’t imagine a moment when I’d feel compelled to do similar. My heart goes out to him and everyone else who was affected by his actions.
I jinxed myself! 🙂
Every Sikh or Sikh studies geek that I know insists that it is not so much a religious requirement as it is a material testament of faith that a Sikh should make in sincerity. (After all, did Guru Gobind not ask for volunteers when he decided to establish the Khalsa?) I see crazy incidents like the one in this article as more of a cultural issue (“show some pride”) than a religious issue. I think the reason why it turns into such a big deal is because keeping the kesh takes a lot out of these boys, and toughing it out – especially through those tumultuous teenage years – is the proof of pride and cultural continuity that their parents want.
But yeah, it does get pretty intense for some families. One of my friends, M, is the youngest of three brothers. All three of them had been disciplined for years at a remote military academy in the rugged mountainous region of Himachal Pradesh, so it’s not like they were just a bunch of clueless ABCDs who didn’t “get it”. (I dare say, he’s even a bit of a Khalistani.) And yet, somehow, both of M’s older brothers got to a point where they just couldn’t take it anymore (whatever “it” was) and decided to cut their hair against their father’s will. M knew it was only a matter of time before he would do the same. He had talked about it for months before the fact, and I’m sure he had mulled it over in his head for years before that. He insisted that it was “the maintenance”, and not about girls or confidence or fitting in.
I remember him telling me about what happened when his brothers cut their hair. In the case of the eldest, the father pretty much disowned him; he refused to speak to, or even lay eyes on, his son. It took an incident in which said brother nearly died (he got into a brawl with some other guy that left him in the hospital in critical condition) for his father to want to see him again.
When M cut his hair, he called his mom and said, “Mom, I’m coming home…. I’m going to show my face”. Of course, she knew exactly what that meant, and he remembers her crying into the phone and himself being unable to say anything else. M had gotten home before his father returned from work. His father had sensed the tension in the house in the days leading up to M’s arrival, and must have figured it out for himself, because he didn’t even go beyond the wooden front gate that day. Big, tough Punjabi guy that he was, M’s anxiety over his father’s reaction still reduced him to little boy sobs when he saw his father’s eyes peering through a crack in the gate. M’s father didn’t even come inside; he took one look at his son’s un-crowned face and turned around. As he walked away, he said to the sky, “I have no more sons now”. He got into his truck, drove away, and didn’t return for four days. M just drove himself back up to school. Last I checked, he and his father were still not on speaking terms.
Maybe our little homie in the article was just trying to avoid a similar situation with his family when he decided to pull such a crazy stunt. A hate crime – pretty solid reason for turning up de-keshed, you know.
Shouldn’t you be sleeping?:) All this talk about hair reminds me that I’m long overdue for a haircut; off I go then.
Peace
Anna,
Some of the more conservative types regard such people as “patit”, ie. apostates.
That’s my personal interpretation of the matter, although some others obviously disagree.
Again, that’s my understanding of it. It’s a controversial issue, but these injunctions — along with others such as abstaining from alcohol, tobacco, refraining from premarital physical relationships etc — are mostly tied up with the oaths a Sikh takes upon becoming a formal member of the Khalsa via the baptism ceremony. Therefore, indulging in any of these practices would break the sacred oaths he/she will have taken. However, a non-baptised individual will have taken no such oaths, so given the voluntary nature of Sikhism as Shruti explained in her post above, in my view a Sikh doing these things isn’t such a “crime” as it would be in the case of one who is baptised, although obviously it’s not an ideal situation and certainly not behaviour which meets the expectations of ideal conduct laid out by Guru Gobind Singh. Speaking as someone who falls short of these standards in a couple of aspects myself.
Shruti,
Brilliant post by you — very well-written and quite poignant.
The majority of 2nd-Gen British Sikhs are non-keshdhari, by the way, so perhaps it depends on exactly where in the UK one lives and what kind of social environment one is surrounded by. There are comparatively less Sikhs up in Scotland, so maybe they’re a little more conservative there (this is pure speculation on my part). By the way, one of the UK’s wealthiest men and a non-keshdhari Sikh, Charan Gill, is from Scotland — he’s made his millions from his Indian restaurant chain and is a very nice guy by all accounts. He also recently took part in a TV show called The Secret Millionaire — more details here.
Jai – you make it sound as if a person either calls him/herself a Sikh but doesn’t have to follow any of the “rules”, or they are baptized and have to follow all of the rules. I think it’s a little less black and white than that. To me, and many others, Sikhism is a path. You don’t wake up one morning and decide that you’re going to follow all of the rules of Sikhism. Instead, you should try to lead your life in a way where you’re on the path to becoming an “ideal” Sikh. I don’t cut my hair, I don’t drink or smoke .. but I also don’t pray regularly. I think it’s just a journey that I’m on in which I’m fortunate enough to have the strength and willpower to abide by some of the tenants of Sikhism, but unfortunately not others … yet.
~~~~
I don’t feel too sorry for this kid – I understand that he was scared to face his family at the risk of being disowned. But he had hundreds of people rallying for him and fighting for him. If he didn’t want to follow Sikhism, that’s his choice. But by putting on this whole show, he just took one more step in insulting the entire religion and all those who stood up for him. The more I think about it, the less sorry I feel for him. He’s a teenager, not a 10 year old. I don’t care how confused he was, for him to pull a prank like this was just wrong. I can’t even imagine myself in the situation where I would be fighting for this kid and trying to find his attackers, only to find that it was all a little game so this has mommy and daddy wouldn’t get mad at him. Maybe I’m not thinking clearly right now, but he gets none of my pity.
Your heart goes out to him? Isn’t that sweet. The next time a sikh is a victim of racism and abuse, and the police/community take it less seriously we know who to look to. But at least he has your heart.
Vikram, what is your point?
Wasn’t there a case of an Indian teenager in New York faking a racist attack on his family recently?
Anyway, I think it’s possible to have sympathy for the kid but at the same time annoyance at his actions. They don’t have to cancel out the other. Either way, I think the tensions over ‘kesh’ shouldnt distract from the fact that keshdari Sikhs in certain places sometimes face issues that the rest of us desis don’t have to, not just like this but in terms of raw visceral hostility sometimes. This is especially so in the aftermath of 9/11 etc etc
In London or Birmingham where the cities are multicultural and quite desi life is different than Edinburgh which is a different kind of city altogether in terms of it’s make up and desi culture and confidence.
I would say that about half my Sikh dosts keep kesh although none of them are baptised.
I have noticed that quite often these discussions of Kesh and their importance in Sikhism tend to separate Guru Gobind Singh from the preceding nine Sikh Gurus. We must understand that what Guru Gobind Singh did by establishing the Khalsa order was simply the culmination of all the work started by Guru Nanak and further strengthened by the eight gurus in between. To lift a battered, oppressed, and marginalized group of people off the ground and transform them into socially responsible, God fearing and sovereign individuals would take centuries. This Guru Nanak realized when he set upon the path revealed to him. What Guru Nanak started Guru Gobind Singh completed and topped it off with a crown – literally. Those who chose to continue on the Path of Nanak were offered Sahibi (royalty) and asked to remain one with God – spiritually and physically. This royalty came with incredible social and spiritual responsibility but it did not come with pride, ego, anger, lust and material attachment.
Sardar Kapur Singh, a well recognized scholar/author on Sikhism and Professor of Sikhism as designated by the Akal Takht wrote many essays on the importance of the Kesh. The basic understanding gained from these is that in order to become Godly individuals as prescribed by the Guru Granth Sahib one has to retain his/her Godly physical appearance among other things. The Guru Granth says that God made all his creation in his form, therefore, for us to change that form is to say that God made mistakes that need correction.
Red Snapper, yes — I remember a similar incident in New Jersey three or four years ago.
I’ll leave aside the question of actual religious doctrine, since others seem to be on top of it.
It’s tough to make the dastar (turban) and kesh (hair) compatible with the strong teenage imperative to fit in. In my case it helped that I had a brother going through it with me, and we could support each other. Those Sikhs camps also helped — through positive examples, and an energetic attachment to the tradition. Even if some of what is taught at some camps is excessively ideological, they make a big difference in helping kids develop a positive self-image at a critical time.
In my particular case, the righteous commitment and defiance expressed in a certain subgenre of punk rock (hardcore/straight edge) also helped — Fugazi especially.
Sweet. That just made my day. D.C. represent!!!
I’ve heard this before, one of my cousins put chewing-gum in his hair so that he could cut it. Another one of all time favorite is when one of my friend cut his hair and told his rents that the new ‘shampoo’ he used made him lose his hair.
I dont know why some yougins feel that losing their hair will make them fit more, get better jobs, or girls.
I am not amrit-dhari but I’ve never cut my hair or beard. I wont be able to follow all the rules and will feel worse if I slip. No liquor, no chicken, no partying, no pre-marital relationship etc.
I think you mean this
While reading about the incident , I was disturbed by the young manÂ’s lack of self esteem and his inability to take responsibility for his actionsÂ…granted that he wouldÂ’ve had a tough time talking about it to his parentsÂ…or convincing them of the reasons he did what he did. But I think the real issue here is what was he trying to prove by creating such a fiasco to cover up the fact that he wanted to get rid of his locks? What couldÂ’ve happened that made him lose faith in himselfÂ…his physical appearance..?Growing up..I had a lot of sikh friends..and IÂ’ve always thought of them as resolute and determined guys..easy to trust..and fiercely protective..(maybe being the only mallu in esteemed company helped)Â…and it makes me especially sad when I hear of incidents like theseÂ…
As I said on another thread related to the martial races, my understanding is that it was eminently possible to be legitimately considered a Sikh while not adhering to Khalsa normativity until the advent of the Tat Khalsa ideology in the Singh Sabhas in the late 19th/early 20th centuries. Prior to that, the dominant paradigm among Sikhs has been categorized broadly as Sanatan Sikhi, or roughly, “eternal Sikhism” which included a number of practices and sects that were deemed deviant by Sikh reformers. Ascetical sects like the Nirmalas and Udasis did not take the sword-based initiation, but rather another form of initiation where water was touched to a guru’s toe. These sects spread Sikhism far and wide, and played a similar role that some Sufis did in spreading Islam. When the Sikhs had an empire, the Sanatan Sikhi paradigm was at its height. Besides ascetical sects, there were also guru lineages (families descended directly from the Sikh gurus) who commanded devotion and respect (including that of Ranjit Singh himself); zat-based rules and the biradari conventions trumped any extra-local attempt at “universalization.” Several modern Sikhs commentators view this period as a corruption, but other scholars, like Harjot Oberoi, disagree with the assesment. Camille told me on the other thread that modern Sikhs would not recognize these types of sects as Sikh anymore.
The Tat Khalsa reformers generally cited to the authority of rahit namas to bolster their positions. According to Harjot Singh Oberoi, several reformers wrote fictional mythologies in the form of novels to valorise Sikh figures who kept the external symbols of Sikhism at the cost of their life. They also spoke out against pir worship. Example: The cult of Gugga Pir.
The Army felt that Sikhs would not be the “fighting machines” they were if they did not get properly babtized and follow the Khalsa traditions.
The purpose of religion is to bring you closer to God and to each other, as thereÂ’s divinity in everyone.
I personally believe that most of us donÂ’t practice religion, but tribalism
Patrick Henry once said, “Give me liberty or give me death.”
If you look at the American Revolution, the Holocaust, or anyone how has died for religion, and for love, like Romeo or Juliet, have died for essentially the same thing: the freedom to choose, self-determination. This is what Sikh gurus died for, not for Sikhi.
This is precisely why we do not believe in religious conversion, as all paths lead to God. Sikh philosophy is not humain based.
Haumain is just more than ego. It is an attachment to self, extension of the self, esp., to self interest and identity: My being, My community, My religion, My God, MyÂ…
In “A Sikh’s Paradigm For Universal Peace,” Dr. Meji Singh, writes, “We are attached to ourselves as individuals, to our communities, or our religious and national identities. These are all an extension of Haumain. A person who is connected with Whaeguru perceives Whaeguru in everyoneÂ…”
Consider, whatÂ’s the best religion according to Gurbani? WhatÂ’s the only community that we should concern ourselves with? The one that remembers God and helps us live truthfully. ItÂ’s devoid of any haumain claims.
The teenager who cut his hair was also an act of self-determination. While he lied, the very act of cutting hair was neither wrong nor right. If you are a Sikh, keeping you hair is not about discipline, or about weak or strong, but about love for the path you have chosen.
To truly understand why Sikhs have unshorn hair as one of their religious symbol, I have posted an article from the SikhSpeak magazine below:
THE REAL REASON FOR THE 5K’S
I’m afraid 99% of Sikhs do not know why we were given a distinct identity.
To clarify let’s start with Sikh philosophy. Guru Nanak once said that the truth is high, but higher still is truthful living. But what exactly is truthful living?
Truthful living is living with faith, hope, humility, love, forgiveness, and with courage to fight against oppression and for equality. All the gurus ever did was to help us in this journey. Every action, every lesson, taught us to move in this direction. In fact, the principles of truthful living is the nucleus of all religions. We have different symbols, but all are catalyst toward that end. One who recognizes that all spiritual paths lead to the One shall be emancipated. (SGGS 142-8)
However, during Guru ji’s time, many Sikhs, who were originally Hindus, were still entrenched in Hindu traditions. In fact, many practiced the caste system and discriminated against other Sikhs (who were the lowest of their caste). If one thinks society is caste ridden today, back then it was deeply rooted in everyone’s consciousness.
Imagine the hate and hostility the Guru jis witnessed amongst their Sikhs. The lowest of the low could not even be embraced by their fellow Sikhs. They were ostracized, not even worthy to dine with. So how do you elevate those former Hindus and bring them in equal terms? How do you free them when for generations their families have been trampled upon? How do you give them a sense of worth when all their lives they have been told they were worthless?
Words and preaching were not enough to abolish hundreds of years of slave mentality. Amrit was crucial and became a brilliant psychological tool. It gave us a separate identity and helped us wean off our lesser ways. When one looked at a Sikh, one knew he was reborn! We were all brothers and sisters, all equals. The turban became our crown to show we were all divine beings.
The concept of langar and sewa also reinforced the principles of equality. All, regardless of caste, color, sex, and religion, ate next to each other and served one another.
No one was more blessed with this understanding than Bhai Kanahiya, who gave water to the fallen Muslims in the battlefield. When Guru Gobind ji asked Bhai Kanahiya Singh to explain his actions, he replied that he saw the Guru in everyone, even in the enemy. Guru ji embraced him and proclaimed him to be a true Sikh. This is the heart of the story, the purity of vision, the rarefied awareness that extends the divinity to all.
Guru Gobind Singh Ji was never a divider as some have claimed. He united everyone and made us all equal in each other’s eyes. The 5k’s, which are still important today, if not more, were instilled to help us live truthfully.
A Sikh should see the divinity in everyone, treat everyone equally. To paraphrase Dr. IJ Singh, walk the shadow of the lord and live a life of grace and humility.
There are still the same problems today. There always be people who will cling dearly to their castes and act inhumanely.
However, it seems now Sikhi has new challenges. There are more virulent forms of prejudice within the Sikh fold. With impunity we judge who’s a Sikh and who is not, who can be married in a Gurdwara and to whom. We hurl words like “mona,” “gora,” that tastes not too different from malice. We use the Rehit Maryada, the one Guru ji created to accept others, as a yardstick to measure the shortcoming of others.
Tribalism has many forms, and Sikhi is in danger of becoming another caste, which Guru Gobin Singh Ji fought against. The following quote has been widely misunderstood: The Tenth Master, “rehit piari mujh ko sikh piara nahin.” The true translation is I love the conduct of the Sikh, not the Sikh. The conduct, of course, is the one that deals with living truthfully—living with faith, hope, humility, love, forgiveness, and with courage to fight against oppression and for equality.
🙂 M used to pray for boils on his head!
Ok, maybe my perspective is different as a kid raised in an Umreekan Sikh household (Umreekan meaning in the U.S., not meaning white 🙂 ). According to the Rehit Maryada, you cannot claim to be a Sikh if your hair is cut. It’s not a “gray” issue – it’s a pretty black and white requirement, as is abstaining from liquor, drugs, etc., or, for that matter, waking up early and going to bed early.
That said, let me back it up a moment. As was mentioned before, for many, Sikhi is a lifestyle and a path. Getting there takes time, and that means working towards incorporating the different requirements of the faith into your life. I think where the controversy comes from is between people who cut their hair and want to identify as Sikh (but have no desire to move forward in the religion), versus those who don’t cut their hair, get beat up routinely, and are actively trying to live the religion. Of course, it gets even more complicated. I mean, I meet folks all the time who can chop it up on discussions of the faith with cut hair, whereas I meet dumbasses who have kept their hair. Kes is important, but it is one component of a bigger picture. I mean, even in Ardaas (our closing prayer after every gathering, written by people and not the Gurujis), we talk about the people who have died for the right of others to practice the faith, and this includes people who were forcibly scalped because they refused to cut their hair. It is kind of a big deal!
Oh, and for clarity, keeping your hair is strictly required if you are an amritdhari. If you are not amritdhari and you are not living a Sikh lifestyle, technically you should not call yourself a Sikh. More on this in a mo.
If you choose to cut your hair after living as a “visible” Sikh, it’s usually for one of a few reasons: 1. You are going to do something un-Sikh, and you are acknowledging that you are not in line with your faith’s teachings (this happened a lot during the independence movement), or 2. You have chosen to leave the faith.
I think where this episode is really really sad. If the guy was feeling uncomfortable with his faith or wanted to leave it, then he should simply leave the faith. While there’s definitely a social stigma, and it might be a really tough conversation with your parents, the decision not to be a Sikh is his alone. And, given Sikhi’s teachings, it should be ok. There’s nothing in the faith that says, “Be a Sikh, or you suck.” Instead it says, “If you’re a Hindu be a good Hindu; if you’re a Muslim be a good Muslim.” Meaning don’t be a hypocrite. In the context of the religious history and its current requirements, I personally think it’s problematic to try to take what you like from the faith and leave the rest.
Also, a favor. Could we please not refer to amritdhari Sikhs as “baptised”? Do we refer to Jews who have their bar/bat mitzvah as having “had their Confirmation”?
I wonder if its fair to liken a temporary paternal preference (mine made me keep it short, which I hated but now rock) to the weight of cultural/religious burdens. They’re similar in that both are imposed primarily by our parents but refuting the latter carries a much stronger sting because, regardless of our own perception, our parents believe it ascribes to something higher.
Parents are hard to disappoint because we don’t want to and because they don’t want to hear it. For a few years now, I’ve been dropping hints about my clandestine life, my younger sister gets it but mom&dad totally zonk out. Parents go to great lengths to reconcile the people we are with the children they want us to be. I’d bet this act was something he had been thinking about for a long time. I bet he tried to clue his parents in to what was going on in his head, in his life. And I bet they tried as hard as the combined strength of their wills could manage to brush off the signals. Well, when the full face is staring you in the face, there’s no more denial. Suddenly years of looking the other way, pretending not to notice are painfully ripped away and you’re face to face with your failure to raise your son to be proud of his heritage. Who wouldn’t want to avoid that? It’s gotta be hard. For everyone.
A lot of comments have focused on what Sikhism is and esteem/lack of– these are surely important and valuable things to talk about but lets keep in mind that they are so very deeply personal. In this case, the local authorities chose not to pursue it, maybe we should take their example. ANNA did a good job of setting up comments to flow away from judgment. When it comes to growing pains, I think all we can do is share.
Non-keshdhari Sikhs: These are people who lack discipline to follow the Sikh Faith as it was laid out. It is much easier to pick ‘n choose.
One can always question something or simply accept it.
As someone once said to me….
–See you all in hell(unless reincarnation is hell…in either case….see you soon)!
Words of wisdom. How else to explain the fact that most people practice the religion they just happen to be born into.
I wonder if its fair to liken a temporary paternal preference (mine made me keep it short, which I hated but now rock) to the weight of cultural/religious burdens. They’re similar in that both are imposed primarily by our parents but refuting the latter carries a much stronger sting because, regardless of our own perception, our parents believe it ascribes to something higher.
I understood Anna’s knee-length hair statement as being about more than a paternal preference and having everything to do with a cultural connection. Anna, am I wrong here? I may not be desi but I had always assumed that very long hair on women was a part of desi culture/identity to the older generation. I lived in two desi homes growing up and all the older women had dramatically long hair. Is that just coincidence?
On the other topic, I wish I had a dime for every time a teenager has used poor judgement. He will be wiser for all of this though.
Its interesting how different religions view hair.
In hinduism, Hair is seen as an adornment. By shaving the head, the child confronts his or her bare ego. It teaches humbleness and devotion. Children with shaved heads are seen as innocent and holy and are treated with great respect.
The exact same situation occurred in Vancouver in the summer of 2005
A little later, the true story came out:
Morton Downey Jr was Sikh.
Sonia Kaur,
I am not quite sure how you inferred the above from my previous post. I actually think exactly the same way as you do (as you have detailed in the rest of your first paragraph), and I have repeatedly explained the same viewpoint on SM on previous occasions.
Absolutely superb posts by Sarbhpreet (#9) and Moorakh88 (#16). I really don’t think I could explain matters better than they have. Very well said indeed.
Camille,
I am afraid I am going to have to politely disagree with you on this particular occasion, although I do understand your point of view. It’s worth emphasising at this point that I place a greater priority on the contents of the Sri Guru Granth Sahib and the examples (and conduct during their earthly lifetimes) of the 10 human Sikh Gurus, rather than the man-made Reht Maryada, even if the latter is supposedly based on the previous two. For the sake of keeping the peace, I think we can amicably agree to disagree on this matter 😉 I regard an individual’s conduct — their benevolence and fairness towards their fellow human beings, and their control of their inner 5 Thieves — as being a greater indication of how much of a true Sikh they are than the wearing of the outer 5Ks and the practice of various rituals, although of course ideally doing both is a superior situation than doing these two in isolation.
With regards to the strict religious teachings, to call oneself a Sikh at all one must of course believe in the definition of God enshrined in the Mool Mantar, along with other basic matters such as no murti-pooja, no acknowledgement of caste, Sikhism not being an “exclusivist” faith, the line of 10 human Gurus and the SGGS, the ideal Amritdhari Khalsa individual as per Guru Gobind Singh being the embodiment of what an “ideal” Sikh is supposed to be or at least aiming for, and so on.
However, your following comments were excellent:
I think that’s definitely the most important thing. It’s one of the reasons I don’t wear any of the 5Ks — not because I think they “don’t matter”, but because I deem them as being so sacred that I don’t want to defile them by any of my actions (basically I don’t think I deserve to wear them, because for me they’re intimately tied in with Guru Gobind Singh and I think that anyone wearing the 5Ks, Amritdhari or not, should at least be aiming to be as close to the Guru’s ideals for conduct as possible) — and it’s also the reason why, until relatively recently, for a long time I dropped the “Singh” from my username handle here on SM.
Hmmm. It depends on exactly what one is talking about. As mentioned above, I don’t think a person should wear the visible 5Ks (one or more of them) if one is going to wildly deviate from the ideals they represent, particularly regarding the post-Amrit do’s & don’ts (even if one isn’t Amritdhari). However, this is of course an entirely personal matter for other people (unless it infringes on the rights/freedoms/dignity of a third-party), something between them and God on the first level and them and the Gurus on a secondary level, and beyond a certain point it’s definitely not my place to judge other people in this regard (again, unless there’s something malicious going on). To make matters clearer, I regard the actions and attitude of Shruti’s friend’s father (post #2) as being an example of someone acting in complete contradiction of Sikh ideals and teachings, and violating everything that the 5Ks (and being a Sikh full-stop) stand for.
Speaking more generally, I believe that even making 10% of effort is a better place for someone to be in than if they were making zero effort to aim for those ideals. A glass half-full of pure water is better than one which is empty. You do as much as you can, and hopefully you’ll be a positive impact on the world around you.
I’ve always heard that term used by my Sikh friends and I note that some Sikh people on this thread did so as well. That’s how I refer to Amritdhari Sikhs…but I won’t if I shouldn’t. Could anyone address this, please?
It’s always difficult to find words in English that might correspond exactly with what is being described in translation, loaded as the English words are with meaning in their original senses (in this case describing a rite of Christianity). The best we can hope to do for those unfamiliar with the thing being referred to is to give a sense of what is being described.
^^^Very good point by Red Snapper above. I only used the words “baptised/baptism” because not everyone here will necessarily know what “Amrit/Amritdhari” or “Khanda-de-Pahul” mean (although the drinking and sprinkling of water IS involved in the ceremony). My apologies for inadvertantly causing offence to anyone.
My understanding was that it was a cultural imperative, not just a temporary paternal preference (unless there’s a backstory here I don’t know). Mallu women are not supposed to cut their hair, and traditionally, are not allowed to wear it loose. If not in a braid or a bun, for example, while drying after a bath, it should have a knot in the end. It’s not a religious injunction, but cutting hair can cause serious family upset even in a fairly non-traditional family like mine.
Thanks to desishiksa. That’s what I was looking for.
Same in Maharashtrian families. My hair is curly. Longer it’s just one big mop if not I look like this but not until I got to college and decided to rebel was I allowed to cut my hair. Same with getting multiple piercings, putting on makeup etc. Doing all those things would mean coming across as “not conservative and good” hence all the restrictions.
Although undoubtedly long hair for a girl can be a pain if she doesn’t want it, I don’t think you can compare what a girl with long hair goes through to what a BOY with turban or patka goes through in western society. Apples and oranges.
Undoubtedly it’s worse for a boy, but I don’t think it’s apples and oranges, but points along a spectrum, complying with what your family/culture/religion expects vs “fitting in”. I don’t think it was a totally unreasonable comparison, especially since she was using it to evoke compassion for him, not to say “well, I didn’t cut my hair so he shouldn’t cut his”.
I come from a Sikh backgroud and I always wonder why “true Sikhs” force their children into wearing turbans and not allowing them to cut their hair. Sikhism is the most difficult religion in the world to follow and it is only for the most serious student, but 95% of Sikhs wear a turban because they were forced to as children and in my opinon takes a little out of the poetry on the path towards religion.
I think Sikhism is a religion where if you dont go at it 100% then you will gain nothing from it. Sikhism is not a religion with books filled with yes and no answers and is all about a path and if your not ready for it then dont do it.
When I was in my undergrad I saw too many turbaned Sikhs who got drunk and high every weekend and I always wanted to tell them to either put the drink down or do your religion and yourself a favor and cut your hair and take off the turban. These guys wanted to fit in so badly with the norm, but their families forced them into something they were not ready for and that just makes 0 sense to me.
Are you implying that following religion and partaking in the “norm” are somehow mutually exclusive and that if someone were to follow a normal path they somehow aren’t 100% religious? A turban to most sardarjis I know is part of their identity, who they are and how they are raised. Most of them have had plenty of opportunities in their life to have rebelled and cut their hair but have chosen to keep it so far (in what capacity is a moot issue) so they don’t feel the need to get rid of it just so they could partake in a society they are very much a part of. And what is wrong with trying to fit in just as?
I dont want knoww to everything about something…i want to know somethings about everything
CORRECTION: I dont want to know everything about something….I want to know somethings about everything
Hi again, everyone 🙂
On hair
Jai, I think we can agree to disagree. 🙂 Certainly the teachings in SGGS are the most important element of Sikhi, but I do think that all religions require some kind of commitment aside from understanding the faith’s philosophy, and for Sikhs part of that commitment is adherence to the 5Ks and a Khalsa lifestyle. Btw, I totally agree with the above quote 🙂
Because, while no one can be “born” a Sikh (it has to be a conscious commitment and act of choice), Sikh parents are required to raise their children in the faith. And I guess, because most people feel you can’t make a conscious choice until you’re at least 16 or 18, parents feel the need to raise their kids within religious constraints. I think that is pretty common in other religions, too. That said, I think a lot of parents raise their kids with the 5K’s, yet they pay no attention or have no understanding of the religions beliefs, etc., aside from outward symbols.
On “baptism” vs. “amrit”
Ok, so this may sound picky on my part, but because “baptism” and “amrit” are not at all the same thing, I don’t think it’s useful to describe Sikh-specific elements in Judeo-Christian terms. It causes a lot of confusion and conflation, but also, I think the best way for people to learn what these things mean are to use the appropriate terminology.
JOAT
If the “norm” is drinking and getting high, then yes. I mean, what’s a “normal path” anyway? There are perfectly rational explanations for why Sikhs aren’t supposed to engage in certain behavior, and sometimes that’s seen as in/out of the norm. Again, I think you would find similarities with most people who identify as religious, in general (which is not, coincidentally the college-aged population). In this case I agree with ST and Jai, if you are not down to “do it right” that is totally fine, just don’t claim to be something you aren’t — it makes it a LOT harder (politically, legislatively, etc) for everyone in the community who actually IS living the Sikh lifestyle.
Camille
So what are people with Sikh backgrounds who don’t adhere to enough of the strictures to allow themselves to call themselves ‘Sikh’ to be called? I mean, if they can’t call themselves Sikh, what are they? Is there a theological space for a ‘lesser’ Sikh? But doesnt that set up a kind of hierarchy which Sikhism is supposed to be against?
How does someone drinking or doing their own thing make life harder ‘politically and legislatively’ for people leading a Sikh lifestyle? I don’t get it. In what political or legislative way does their lifestyle have a bearing on others?
I’m confused by this, because all my Sikh mates who dont wear a turban all consider and call themselves Sikh, go to gurdwara, respect the religion, take an interest in it even up to a scholarly level.
Jack of all?
Hey Red,
My point is that if you’re not trying or even working towards a “full Sikh” lifestyle, then don’t claim that you are (Sikh). And further, I think it’s ok to say you’re not a Sikh. I think there’s this desire to conform or place oneself in a religious box, but if you’re not feeling or living the philosophy, then really, being “Sikh” is a meaningless identifier. Also, I don’t think the religion is about setting up hierarchies (I mean, I can’t imagine anything like a “lesser” Sikh – what an awful idea/term), and I think it’s about people checking themselves instead of worrying about the Jones’s. It’s not my place to go, “Oh, person X is a Sikh and person Y is not a Sikh.” That’s a personal decision – if the religion is something a person wants to work towards, then s/he should call his/herself a Sikh, have fun, enjoy the ride. If not, then don’t call yourself a Sikh and don’t wear the 5 K’s. It need not be an apocalyptic experience.
Ok, this may sound like a stretch, but as someone who’s had to do advocacy for the Sikh community, here’s why it makes it harder for those who are living a Sikh lifestyle. Let’s take the issue of the kirpan, yes, or the turban. For every Sikh who gets beat up on the street, roughed up by airport security, or can’t board a plane and has to take trains to commute, there are 5 other guys who don’t deal with any of this claiming to be Sikh and also claiming to speak on behalf of the faith. How can you make an argument for why the kirpan is an absolutely essential article of faith when someone else is easily willing to say “Actually, it’s not so necessary”? It makes it really hard, because anytime you deal with people unfamiliar with Sikhi there are going to be those mixed messages (in the case of the kirpan, or wearing a turban in civil spaces, this effects legal interpretation and legislative action which are directly political issues). It’s the same thing when I was in college and would have to explain why I didn’t drink (both for religious and personal reasons) while “sardars” are sitting in the corner boozing. It sets up an untenable double standard, and it makes it seem like there are no guidelines for how Sikhs are supposed to live, which is just not true.
Look, my point is not that Sikhi is about sipping the Haterade and judging who’s in and who’s out. It’s that I really feel terrible for this kid, and I think if people let up on the pressure of “living a Sikh life” it would really help kids who are just not ready to make that commitment.
Forget the getting high but with most teenagers or at least the first year in college everyone is getting drunk. This isn’t about condoning it or dismissing it, that’s besides the point. Most religions tell you to not do all things most teenagers are into. To ask them to dismiss their religion or a symbol of it because they are partaking in say teenage stupidity is incredibly elitest.
So you are saying that Sikhism is extremely exclusive. Only and only if you follow all principles in Sikhism can you be allowed to call yourself a Sikh? I know plenty of adults who’d fail that test yet you think teenagers who’ve tasted their first freedom should follow it rigidly.
Jane the answer is simple. YES
Following the norm is the exact opposite of what the turban represents.
Most people in the world blend in with each other with their cloths and hair styles, but one of the aspects of having a turban is to stick out. If you commit a crime in a turban and you have a long beard then people will easily identify you, if someone is in need of help and you are just standing there then you will more easily be identified as a coward to the people around you. People are always changing their identies as to fit when, but when you commit yourself to the beard and turban that is your identity for life.
A turban shouldnt be confused for something cultural because its religous and I do believe and culture and religion are exclusive.
I also dont mean that you have to become a hermit if you want to be a Sikh because being active in the community is a huge aspect of Sikhism because you cant help mankind if your just stuck in the house or on top of a mountain meditating. Just dont act like a huge douche bag if you are going to go out to clubs, by drinking up a stomr and then smoking a bowl before falling asleep. How can you start your day with a 2 hour ritual of having to tie up your hair and putting on a turban and end it in a pool of vomit and blunts? That’s a person who isnt ready for Sikism and should be allowed to cut his hair and if he/she chooses later in life to go back towards religion then let them.
That being said, I myself do not follow any of the Sikh practices, but I highly respect anyone who can 100% even though I find myself inching towards atheism everyday.
Cool – I never heard that before you see. But I still think that is quite hard on people, to say that they are not Sikh. For a start, half of the Sikhs in Britain wouldnt qualify as Sikhs in that case. Which is very sad, if that got to be the criteria, because it’s obvious that even though they might not follow it to the nth degree, they have a deep affinity and attachment to the faith. I grew up in Kingston-upon-Thames and most of the other Indian families in the locality and at school were Sikh, spent alot of time around Southall in my teenage years, a couple of my best friends are Sikh, so I feel semi-Sikh in a strange kind of way 🙂
Regarding the kirpan issue and other things — it is a requirement for an amritdhari Sikh, so it’s not an issue for five other non amritdharis saying it is not essential. If for the sake of that you go down a road of disowning all non amritdharis you get into even smaller bits and pieces. I imagine that the percentage of Amritdhari Sikhs amongst Sikhs living in the West is relatively small.
I don’t think so, but perhaps we’ll just have to disagree. I don’t think religion does you any good if you’re going to throw it out the window the first moment you decide to partake in stupidity. That said, say you get drunk once, now you have to leave the faith? Not necessarily. It’s a personal decision and a personal process. My point is don’t front.
I think my point was a little more nuanced, in that I said if you are following the principles or actively trying to follow the principles of the faith then by all means, call yourself Sikh. If you’re not, then don’t even pretend. And that identification is pretty clear if you understand both the teachings and the dogma (of which there is NOT a lot) in the faith. I think Sikhi is fairly universal, but I think being an active Sikh and trying to live your principles is hard work. This is true in all religious traditions. This is not some exceptional Sikh thing, but rather, something that all religions require. Because Sikhi is younger, I think we haven’t fully negotiated dealing with the full spectrum of participation, and in that sense, I think we have a lot of growing to do.
But I just don’t get it — are they not to even call themselves a Sikh at all? Even if they are semi-detatched and at a lesser stage of commitment? Arent you making them kind of homeless in that case?
Red, you’re right, the kirpan is not as big a deal for non-amritdharis. BUT, if you are trying to move towards a “full-on” Sikh lifestyle, then the kirpan should be important, and you should go to bat for it. In my experience, people are much more willing to sell out different parts of the religion in the name of assimilation, etc., which makes it really really hard for people who are amritdhari since a) there are fewer of them, and b) they have to deal with the religious and non-religious ramifications.
Also, I think a lot of Sikhs conflate their Punjabi heritage with their Sikh heritage. I think if the community did a better job of making young folks feel secure and confident in their faith, then it would be more voluntary. Being Sikh is supposed to be a choice, not something that’s forced on you. If we all were a bit more compassionate and a bit less judgmental, then young people could make that decision (including deciding not to be Sikh), and they wouldn’t lose out on some of the non-religious yet important parts of life, including community and cultural support.
This will sound harsh, but an affinity/attachment is no good if you don’t live it. This is central principle in the religious philosophy of Sikhi – it is not enough to feel good about something or like it, you have to live it, and that’s what makes it hard. The very last commitment to “living it” is the 5Ks, which ostensibly indicates that you could be on the path towards “living it” and not be there yet. Which is 100% totally ok.
Yeah but surely there is a way to ensure that the message about the immutability of the 5K’s for amritdhari Sikhs is made plain to activists and legislators without basically saying that anyone who is not at that level or aspiring to that level is not a Sikh. I mean, it’s so totally out there, I can’t believe that the Sikh path does not have room for people who don’t meet that criteria — it spiritually evicts them from their home. It’s very hardline and unforgiving, it seems to me. I’ve never even heard ‘keshdari’ Sikh friends of mine say that. Sure it’s understood that they have more of the visible identity side of things and are further down the line, but they never said that someone from a Sikh background who doesnt wear a turban cannot call himself a Sikh. I have literally never heard this before, it’s the first time I’ve ever heard it expressed.