The (alternative) Wedding Guide

It was the 3^rd of October, 2013, and I was stuck on a couch in Quito, recovering from a nasty bug from unfiltered water (so diagnosed by a doctor from Perlita’s extensive local network).

The internet was down so there was no opportunity for mindless online distraction. I couldn’t really walk in a straight line so leaving the house was out of the question. I had already completed my Spanish homework on Los Tres Cerditos and just could not bring myself to read my massacre of the beautiful language yet again.

And just like that, I opened up a newly-bought, blank notebook and started making lists (LOVE LISTS!). Having just been engaged two weekends earlier, it felt like it was time to start planning a wedding! I filled up the pages with timelines, shabads, shopping plans, guest names, outfits, menus, venues, and lists of other lists that would need to be made closer to the date (LOVE LISTS!).

I highly doubt that my actions were in anyway ground-breaking; most people who are planning a big event go into some sort of planning mode. The only variable is probably the obsessiveness of said planning (guilty!).

It goes without being said, I hope, that more important than planning a wedding, is obviously giving your energy into the marriage. Here, I can hear my husband laughing, because at many times during our turn, I lost sight of this and became frantic over the most ridiculous things. Invitation font size comes to mind immediately. Such fools we are sometimes.

And during each of those episodes (embarrassed cough), he always reminded me that regardless of whether the colour was coral or salmon (it’s almost like choosing between black and white, really), regardless of whether the paneer would be better served on Sunday as opposed to Friday (why wouldn’t they just agree with me!), and regardless of a hundred other frivolous things, come noontime on the day of our wedding, we would be married. And so, everything else really didn’t matter.

Damn it, it was so annoying that he was absolutely right.

I am very, very blessed, that after weeks of him drilling this into my ears, I finally got it. I was trying to control everything, but nothing was actually in my control. It was Guru who brought us together, and Guru would see it through. Yes, make a plan and get things done, but stop trying to control the outcome.

And just like that, everything shifted. I ended up loving the weeks close to our wedding. I was relaxed, calm, and I daresay, even pleasant to be around. I talked with my friends overseas, hung out with the ones here. I ate well, drove around town on invitation card missions, and spent time with my family. I joked with my tailor, made time for a fun wedding guide, rewrote the Laava(n) translation using words I liked, said yes to all the changes in the menu, and left the flower arrangements in the hands of someone else. It was quite simply, delightful.

It all boiled down to one thing: Letting Go, and Letting God. In that time, I learnt how to divert my energy from the trivial, to the purposeful.

By Thy Grace

Photo credit to Angad Singh

There are enough articles out there to cover everything else. 5 Things Every Bride Must Have, How to Create the Perfect Wedding, blah, and blah, and blah. Some are useful, some are silly, and some insult the intelligence. Enjoy reading them (I did!) :)

Here I offer another list. Perhaps a little unusual, but it was invaluable to me, and I’ve added to it since our wedding too. I’ve ended each section with a note on where the wisdom originated from, for without them, the only item on this list would have been #10, and really that one you could have figured out without me!

1. Lullaby

The days before the wedding will be manic. You will be needed everywhere, and frankly even if you are not needed, you’ll be poking your nose into it. Guests arriving, last-minute errands, utter chaos! As you walk towards your bed at night, dead tired and already half asleep, sit up for a few minutes and read Sohela. This is your time, this is quiet time, this is time for surrendering control to the Infinite. Tune out for the day, and get ready for another adventure tomorrow. If you are not familiar with it, find a recording. Do it alone, do it as a family, do it in your pyjamas. Guru doesn’t mind, really.

This was a gift from my brother, Ravinderpal. Thank you, dear Rumta, for always connecting me with the Divine.

2. Ten minutes

I’m Punjabi and make no apologies for the drama gene in my blood! But the day before the wedding is pretty symbolic, you have to agree. A lot of reasons to burst forth into fountains of tears. Maybe it's your last day at your parent’s home, before you’re off to make your own. A lot of ‘lasts’ here… I’ll skip them because just thinking about them is making me squishy! So, the day before your wedding, claim 10 minutes of your mother’s time. Sit with her, and say thank you. The words are so, so, SO small (how to say thank you for giving you life, I mean?!), but say them anyway. Tell her you’re grateful, tell her you’ll miss her. Tell her whatever, but spend those moments being a thankful daughter.

My soul sister Manmeet held my arm and made me promise I would do this. I am so grateful.

In many ways, our mothers are more prepared for the vidayi; having gone through it themselves and having watched their sisters and friends do the same. For a father, however, it’s probable that he only really experiences its significance when his daughter’s doli leaves the home. Prior to that moment, every action and emotion is caught up in wedding arrangements. The palla ceremony may prepare him a little, but that takes place right in the middle of everything and there may not be space to pause.

Photo credit to Living Images

So, spend 10 minutes with him too. Hear the love in his steady voice, and feel the strength of the protection he has always placed above you, whether physical, financial, or spiritual. The ground you walk on is solid because of his devotion.

Take the best of the home your parents created, and carry it with you when you make your own.

This later section was added post publication, following the sound words of Amru Phenji. Thank you for the precious reminder!

3. Laava(n)

Know the words and the significance of the verses that will bind you on your journey, for they are filled with wisdom and devotion. Read them, understand them, enjoy them. These are not ritualistic empty words uttered by a Giani Ji; these are sacred vows. How much love Guru Ram Das poured into them!

How beautifully Sikhi is growing; there is no shortage of sources where both the Laava(n) and translations are available. I share here my favourite version by Ek Ong Kaar Kaur Khalsa:

http://www.mrsikhnet.com/2007/08/02/anand-karaj-lavaan-the-sikh-marriage-ceremony/

Thank you to that Bride, many summers ago, who panicked and asked someone to translate the Laava(n) for her just before she walked into the Darbar. I knew then that I didn’t want to wait until it was that late. 

4. Wedding? What wedding?

Pre-wedding, most conversations with your partner will be centered around wedding planning. Standing on this side, I now find it amusing how a beautiful relationship ripe with promise and bliss is placed on hold to make way for the most absurd arguments. Since everything that’s happening is urgent and needs to fit into the schedule, add one other thing to it: time out. Set in advance dates and phone calls where there will be absolutely no wedding talk. Remember what that was like? :)

This I owe to my better half. Genius, the man is.

5. The family that prays together

Photo credit to Living Images

Only you know what values you want your marriage to be based on, what your path will be, and how you will walk it together. To nurture mutual dedication to it, pour your energy into a joint prayer that both of you recite daily on the days leading to the wedding. Sharing your life with someone is a pretty big step; sharing a prayer makes it a whole lot easier. Some ideas: do the Beynti Chaupaee, read the Laava(n)/ translation, take a Hukumana and recite that, choose a favourite shabad, or do a meditation together.

Credit again to my Beloved. Heart and mind to Guru first, and always.

6. Roots

If you are fortunate to have your grandparents still with you, spend some time with them and recognise the grit and toughness they had to endure for you to be able to stand in front of them today. We all share different levels of closeness with our elders, so keep it real! If they are your buddies, pour your heart out. If the relationship is more formal, eat your pakoras quietly and ask them about their latest Gurdwara visit. I remember how much my Manji and Nanaji used to BEAM when I went to visit them. That glow accompanied me on the day I was married, even though I could not touch their faces.

They won’t live forever, you know. Have an agenda-less cup of tea with them while you can.

This is wisdom from the Divine. Thank You for allowing me the time and space to spend countless days with them before calling them home.

7. Diamonds are forever

Photo credit to Living Images

You cannot possibly fathom how much you will lean on your sisters and girlfriends before/ during/ after your wedding. They will show up when you need them (without being invited), they will do what needs to be done (without being asked), and they will reassure you that everything is going perfectly (without the slightest hesitation). You may be an absolute basket during the whole thing, but they will make you, yes even you, appear to be normal. So, make time for them, before, during, after, and always.

Photo credit to Living Images

And... the brothers come in useful now and then too. Especially when the girls don't want to do any heavy-lifting after their manicures! It does pay to be nice to them as well :p

This I have always known, for I am surrounded by diamonds.

8. Pat the dog, change the lightbulb

It is a truth universally acknowledged that attending a Punjabi wedding is on most people’s bucket list. Shopping for psychedelic outfits and dancing to lightbulb-changing steps is usually more exciting that witnessing a friend’s wedding ceremony (it’s ok dear, I’m sure deep down they really do love you).

To view, click here

Chances are that you’ll have family members/ guests from different ethnic communities at the wedding. Our week-long celebrations are befuddling even for the bride and groom (no end to rituals that no one knows the reasons for), so you can only imagine how bewildered they must feel. Think of a way to engage them in the celebrations: prepare a short write-up on the events, organise an introduction to bhangra class (mainly to avoid bodily harm on the day itself), invite them for langgar at the Gurdwara sometime, appoint someone to take care of them during the celebrations. I started out with the intention of producing a simple information flyer, and ended up discovering hidden artistic talent in drawing stick figures :)

Inspiration: the London weddings!

9. Who’s got your back?

I’ve always found our culture strange in that the bride’s Chunni Fiddler is pre-determined based on family position. You know, the one who sits behind the bride in the Gurdwara and fidgets with every stray thread that dares rear its ugly head from the bride’s outfit. The idea that someone I didn’t know well would stick to me on such a momentous day was a staggeringly uneasy thought.

I chose not one, but two Chunni Fiddlers (but no, I’m not high maintenance at all :p). Both at least as crazy as me, both ones that I’d shared fits of giggles with, both had been honoured by the pouring of my tears on their shoulders. But most importantly, both ones that knew how much I did NOT want to be bothered on that day. Let the stray threads come out in throngs. I was going to be too busy getting married to care.

Photo credit to Living Images

So if you want to, choose your own CF(s). You can also outsource the bag-holding and tissue-carrying to them. These, as you’ll come to learn, are often dismissed, but absolutely critical tasks that you can only entrust to a select few.

This lightbulb came from Manmeet, who broke out of the norm and appointed a non-relative (me!) as her CF. I can confirm that no one was injured in the process.

10. Uh-oh, where’d it go?

If your salvaar/ churidar has a nalaa, make sure it is looped. Open-ended nalaas bear the risk of one end disappearing in the folds, not to be recovered again without significant manoeuvring (safety pin! hook! help!) and much accompanied stress.

9-year old me was once stuck in a Samelan bathroom for 20 minutes while waiting for help. Key words: Samelan bathroom. Understandably, it is a lesson vividly etched in my senses.

11. Not (just) your wedding

Really, it isn’t. It is also your mother’s daughter's wedding, your grandfather's granddaughter’s wedding, your brother’s sister’s wedding. You are not the only one who gets to decide on everything. You are not the only one who knows what’s best. You are not the only one who wants it to go perfectly. It is as much their joy as it is yours. 

Photo credit to Living Images

Amrit taught me this. I heard her when she first said it, but I only really listened much, much later. Maybe you will be wiser than me and heed her words earlier.

12. To Zafar, with Love

If you have a beloved family pet that won’t be moving with you, hug them and take an insane amount of selfies with them. They don’t speak our language, but they sense everything. They know that change is coming, that you’re leaving. Their universe is pretty small compared to yours, and losing one person from that space is a huge deal. They’ll probably miss you more than you’ll miss them.

If they are dogs, that is. I have nothing to say on cats, sorry :p.

Casper’s footprint on Simran’s wedding invitation reminded me that our dogs would stand with our families through every joy.

13. Every poignant scene needs a soundtrack

Photo credit to Living Images

We all have our favourite songs, compositions, hymns, Baanis, voices. You might want something familiar to feel settled and to calm your nerves on the morning of your wedding. Never in my life had I spent that much time getting dressed and I would have been bored senseless just staring at my face in the mirror with nothing else to focus on. My cherished shabads and mantras kept me company and reminded me that life was really a lot bigger than the next few hours. So plan ahead, and create a playlist for this once-in-a-lifetime morning.

I shamelessly admit that this was inspired by Bollywood. If Kajol could have a fabulous soundtrack while getting her hair done, why couldn’t I?!

In fact, choose your own wedding band! Ahem... I meant Kirtani Jatha :) I know this is not always possible in some Gurdwaras, where you are bound to the Committee decisions. But if you can, run with it. Our family and friends played such a big part in our Anand Karaj, and hearing their voices around us made us feel like it was a close family affair. Even though (in typical Punjabi fashion), there were hundreds of people at the wedding :p. 

Photo credit to Living Images

Getting married without my brothers' voices in the background? Not happening!

14. Every movie has (at least) one superheroINE

And no, this isn’t you.

I mentioned diamonds earlier. Here are more. Your aunts, grandmothers, and mum’s girlfriends will appear out of the woodwork to take on the most glamourless, thankless, and forgotten roles. You’ll wish there were more photos of them in your album, but they were too busy holding the backdrop in place. You’ll search for their faces in the wedding video, but they had taken off their dancing shoes in order to run around keeping the party going.

 

Photo credit to Living Images

Let them know that you noticed. Do something nice for them: feed them chocolates, invite them over for tea, give them foot massages, bring them souvenirs from your honeymoon.

Photo credit to Living Images

This I know because everything was perfect. I see them in every photo they are not in. The silent doers that held all the strings together.

15. Throw away the Panic Button

Things have a habit of not going according to plan. Your wedding will be no different. Two choices: panic, or let go.

The former is the default reaction, the auto-pilot one. It results in unnecessary stress, takes you away from the pure joy that is taking place all around you, and returns an unsmiling face in your wedding photos (only get to do those once, unfortunately).

The latter will seem impossible to do. But it is the only real choice. There are only so many minutes in that most memorable day, and you can’t rewrite them. So choose this one. Force a smile, shrug it off, and pre-select your response to every kink in the master plan.

Teri Razaa. Dhan Guru Nanak. Tera Kiya Meetha Lageh. Tva Prasaad. Or just simply: NEXT!

This precious lesson in grace I soaked from Bal, Meerat, Manmeet, and Jagdeep, who are grace itself, and reside in the London-shaped lovemark in my heart. 

*************

And there it is. Possibly the only really useful list I’ve ever compiled! :)

I hope it serves you in some way. Wishing you many blessings on your journey together, Tva Prasaad.

And! Never, never forget #10 :p.

Just A Little Red.

I remember being at an Annual Samelan in Malaysia, when during the Heart-to-Heart session, a girl sitting next to me asked me in a whisper if she was allowed to do chaur seva while she was on her period.

I was young(er), and dumbfounded that she had even asked me that. I had been brought up to not even consider that as a valid question... it sounded so ridiculous to me that such a natural process would stand in the way of me and my Guru. Still, thinking myself as immature and unqualified to answer her, I urged her to ask the panel, feeling certain that they would knock some sense into this little thing.

Imagine my distress when a lady from the panel answered quite the opposite: she advised the girl to avoid seva in the Darbar Sahib during her cycle. For the sake of cleanliness or hygiene or something equally preposterous.

That was just a little too much BS for my ‘immature’ spirit to handle, and I recall being possessed into springing up and saying quite forcefully that I completely disagreed with that statement.

Artist unknown

I was certainly not as eloquent as Rupi Kaur when she said: “i bleed each month to help make humankind a possibility. my womb is home to the divine. a source of life for our species. whether i choose to create or not”. Wow.

Instead I ranted along the lines of equality (So Kyo Manda Aakhiay… “how can you call Her unclean, She who gives birth to Kings”) and empowerment (I may not have been able to spell that then but I knew what it meant). Frankly, if hygiene was the real concern, then no one in the Samelan would have been allowed anywhere near the Guru given the state of the toilets on the grounds.

I’m certain I must have sounded like a loudmouth on her way to becoming a rebellious teenager (oh how they must have pitied my mother!). But I hadn't spoken up because she was giving birth to any doubt in my mind. I was just determined to not let the other little girls in the room have any confused notions about their beauty and divinity, and certainly not from another woman (it seems a whole lot worse when it comes from our mothers, aunts and sisters, whom we look to for strength and validation).

If you think this was an issue of the past... how I wish it was. This question continues to be asked and answered at our camps to this very day. My measure of the issue has evolved from how it is answered to why have we made our girls so insecure that they feel the need to ask it at all?   

Artist unknown

I am at a loss… I feel so silly even having to justify these arguments in today’s day and age, and in this way of life where I seriously thought that we had dealt with these issues like some 500 years ago. I would like to think that this misguidance is an opinion of the few rather than the norm, but it is alarming how many of these ‘few’ have access to a microphone and a stage.

The Guru that they are trying to keep us away from, that Guru Nanak, is the same one who taught my parents to give me the same opportunities they would give my brother. In fact, I believe they've spent more time building my self-worth and confidence than they did his, knowing the battles I’d have to face in society on the days that lay ahead.

The loudmouthed (opinionated), rebellious (spirited) teenager is a little older today. If a little girl asks me that question now, I hope I will rant less and enlighten more :). In addition to equality and empowerment, I would also say that from a health perspective, hygiene is important and women should take care of themselves (every day of the month, not just a precious few), and approach anything (not just a prayer room) with a clean mind and body. Just as one would after rock-climbing, or making those (dreaded) round rotis, or climbing a tree, or playing in the mud with a pet dog.

I end my gloomy musing with one hopeful experience. Very recently, my young cousin led a gup-chup style session at a camp where she debunked period myths with a group of young girls. A few of us oldies were invited to share our wisdom (ahem!), but she was the conductor and I was so proud of her big-sista-tell-me-your-secrets style, and for breaking the boundaries for the girls to speak openly about their fears and experiences. It was chummy, funny, and most importantly, taboo-breaking. The message was that it was a big deal that wasn't really a big deal.  

   

There is something special about this Red. It brings forth life.

And yet there is nothing special about this Red. It’s just another biological process. Like breathing.

Can’t stop a woman from bringing forth life or breathing, now, can we?

(Just in case you were hesitating, the answer is no, you cannot).

  

 ~ thanking dear Meerat for leading me to Rupi Kaur's resonant words, and my cousin for giving me hope!

Black and Blue.

When the fuss with The Dress (you know the one) kicked off last week, some people said to me: who cares? It's just a dress!

It WAS just a dress. But now the Salvation Army is using just that dress to make a statement. You may love the Salvation Army or you may hate it... But today I too ask: why don't we see the 'black and blue' when we are the cause of it?

And don't you dare hide behind the defence that you've never raised a hand against a woman. Every time you think a woman is less than a man, every time you take away her right to be an equal in your home, every time you gender stereotype her role, every time you make a derogatory comment about her appearance, every time you deny her an opportunity to grow, and every time you sexualise her as an object, you give her the 'black and blue'.

See your colours for what they really are.

Happy Women's Day, all.

One Pail at a Time

~ for my Manji ~

A few days ago, Mataji remarked to me that I should write about Port Klang.

“Port Klang?” I looked at her, blank and confused.

“You know… what happens when they go to Port Klang after the phull chugna. The pails and all.”

My heart clenched, and as I had many times in the past, I felt shame. Shame and guilt, at the thought that once, I had been right there, on the boat, in the thick of things, and unable to prevent it from happening.

But I’m getting ahead of myself; let me start at the beginning. (Or the end, as it were).

Our faith teaches us that there is no finality in what we call death. The physical body may perish, but the soul just moves on to its next phase of being. Which is all very nice on a spiritual and intellectual level, but these words offer little comfort when such loss actually happens. We are beings of attachment, and we experience grief at the physical separation that ensues when a beloved departs. It is a painful time, and also a confusing one. 

 Will people come to pay their respects at the house? How many do you think? How do we send the message out? Have we arranged for a hearse? Do we cook? Can we cater the food at such short notice? What clothes do we set out for our loved one? Who will lead the Paath, do the Ardaas? Do we have Kirtan? When is the Bhog? Which Gurdwara? Loke Yew or crematorium? Today or tomorrow? White or black? Akhand Paath or Sehaj Paath?

And on, and on, and on. So many decisions, so unexpected, and so little time. Everything around this process is so delicate, and we tread the minutes that follow with such sensitivity and emotion. Some things we get right, and some things we don’t. In a disorienting mixture of Giani Ji’s guidance, common practice, and superstition, we somehow pull through, and things fall into place. 

But I digress. The point of this post actually begins several days later, once the fire has cooled down, and close family members make their way to the cremation ground yet again for a ceremony beautifully termed as “phull chugna”, which literally translates to picking flowers. During these poignant moments, as we collect what is left, we reflect on how ridiculously absurd our inflated egos are. This ceremony is very close to my heart; it is quiet as only a few people participate, there is no noise and rush, and our hearts have had a few days to begin the healing journey of acceptance.

And here the calm is interrupted, because now come the Pail, the Gunny Sack, and the Towel, and everything changes.

Now, two things. First, I'm aware that customs differ from place to place, and from community to community. I hope you will read with the intent of seeing the point of what I'm writing, and not brush it off if it isn't widespread enough to make the headlines. Second, I feel that I owe it to you to declare here that the rest of this piece will not be bringing you a sense of peace, but will instead be putting you at dis-ease. Tighten your stomachs, and read on. 

The Pail is used for the milk bath; to clean the larger fragments from the body that survive the flame. These are then transferred into a potli, or cloth pouch, and since everything is wet, the Pail serves its second function: as a practical means to transport the potli. Of course you know that the pail is made of plastic, and with good reason: it lasts a long time. Look at your backyards and you'll probably see pails and tubs that have been thriving for many years.

The Gunny Sack is used to hold everything else that is left, mainly ashes. In the old days, they were made of natural fibres such as jute, but these days, we more commonly use those made of Polypropylene. Which isn't bad in itself: Polypropylene is easily recycled and from what I've read, does not release harmful elements into the environment when disposed of. However, being extremely durable, it is a problem in that it takes an age to deteriorate. Heck, even Jute does not dissolve overnight. So, unless reused and recycled, regardless of the material, both types can cause environmental damage.

The Towel is used for drying hands after the phull chugna. We can talk about what material it is made of and how bio-degradable it is, but I reiterate what I said above: that unless it is reused or recycled, it ends up as waste, and we already have a landfill problem on our hands. Go on; Google "landfill" and be horrified at the disturbing images that the search returns.

In our tradition, we surrender all that is left of the physical body back to the elements, and so we make our way to a source of water. In the Kuala Lumpur/ Selangor community, the most common option is to head to Port Klang, charter a boat, and release the last traces of physical existence into the sea.

Here I pause, and proceed consciously, knowingly, and determinedly. I am certain that many will not like what I have to say, and fewer may accept it.

This idea of releasing what remains into the sea is unfortunately adhered to with such obstinate doggedness, that the belief is that everything that touches those final traces should also be discarded in the same way. True to this line of thought, the (plastic) Pail, the (jute/ Polypropylene) Gunny Sack, and the (easily reused) towel are carelessly tossed in as well. Actually no, carelessly is not the right word. Deliberately.

Shocked? Oh yes.

On my first time on that boat, everything was a new experience. My brother and I sat back, and let those who ‘knew’ take charge and lead the way. I was so unprepared, and time moved faster my ability to react, to say something, to do anything, to get in between the Pail and the water.

I spent the journey home with my mind so troubled at the thought of all those Pails sitting at the bottom of the sea, and all that sea life dead from choking on bits of jute and Polypropylene. All those corals and reefs destroyed, and all those birds killed from eating strangled fish. I can go on and on, but I suspect you already know a little about the circle of life and how this is all going to come fully round and stab us (or worse, our children) in the face soon enough.

But here, just in case you missed it, is how what we do on one end of the planet affects birds on one of the remotest islands on earth.

http://www.midwayjourney.com/film-trailer/ 

Ever heard of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch? Google at your service, once again. 

And WE do this. Day in, day out, we do this.

We, the children of gentle Har Rai, the one who passionately preserved every flower and every leaf he saw. We call him our Guru, and we celebrate Sikh Environment Day with our children by drawing pictures of trees and talking about recycling, and then we get on those boats and throw pails in the sea.

We, the students of Bhagat Puran Singh, whose eyes were sharp enough to look out for the ants in his path. We watch the movie on his life and drop money in donation boxes, and then we feed the fish plastic.

The wretchedness of it all, that even after Man has taken his final breath, he still leaves behind a sea of pollution in his name. Literally. I have days when I want to shake myself out of fury, just for being human. How dreadful we are; we loot and poison and destroy this Earth without a moment’s thought that She too is a living being, a Mother, a part of the Ek that we chant so religiously at the start of Jap Ji.

But at the same time, look how beautiful we are, and how capable of change.

Once off the boat, my brother and I shared that episode with our family, and together we are now more prepared for what will come, and what to do in defence of our Mata Dharatt Mahatt. As much as we would like the world to change overnight, given the fragility around final rites, the solution can only come through conversation and patience. 

To explain to an elderly person on that boat, that no, we don’t need to do this, is not easy. There will be lots of unwelcome free advice at that time, and he is a simple man in an immensely emotional final moment; so we must prepare him for it in advance.

To talk to our families, now. To share with them what happens, why it shouldn't, and what we must do when confronted by it. 

To take charge when the situation is unfolding, and negotiate on behalf of our Mother. To do that with determined compassion, and compassionate determination.

To educate those we know, on how our seemingly little and unconscious actions affect the land we walk on, the water we drink, the air we breathe, and the creatures we share this space with. And to not just talk about it, but to live it.

After that first time, we've since walked off the boat with rescued Pails, Gunny Sacks, and Towels. I cannot tell you how much comfort, relief, and victory I have felt, knowing that the final act in the physical lives of our loved ones was not to leave behind a more tainted Earth for their next of kin.

And that MUST be their legacy. To return to the elements as purely, as cleanly, and as simply as possible. To leave with nothing, to carry nothing, to stain nothing.  

I’m one little person, and I’m just doing my little bit to protect my only Home, one Pail at a time.

Please... do it with me.

Note: Thank you to Veerji Harbhajan for giving this post a voice through Asia Samachar. Blessings!