On Bhagti, Sangat, and finding our way back to the Guru
We make time for almost everything in life. Our businesses, our families, our holidays, and the many things we convince ourselves are important. Yet somehow, sitting in the Hazoori of Guru Granth Sahib Ji has become something we do when time permits.
And then we wonder why our connection to Sikhi is weakening.
We speak proudly of the strength of the Khalsa, of our history, and of the sacrifices of our ancestors. But how often do we reflect on where that strength came from?
Shakti came from Bhagti.
And Bhagti did not happen by accident. It required discipline, Sangat, and time in the presence of the Guru.
If we cannot make that time for ourselves, how can we expect our children to develop a connection that we have neglected?
I sometimes wonder whether we have also forgotten how to sit in the Hazoori of Guru Sahib.
We may be physically present in a Gurdwara, but where is our mind? Are we listening to what Guru Sahib is telling us through Gurbani, or are we merely waiting for the programme to finish so we can return to the things occupying our thoughts?
Even listening requires practice.
Think of someone learning to drive a car for the first time. Before sitting behind the wheel, driving looks rather simple. But once you begin, there are so many things to remember: the mirrors, the signals, the lanes, the traffic around you, the lights and the many small decisions that demand your attention.
For an experienced driver, these things eventually become natural. What once required enormous concentration becomes part of an ordinary routine.
I believe something similar happens when we begin spending meaningful time in the Hazoori of Guru Sahib.
We cannot expect to sit down for a few minutes and immediately experience a deep spiritual connection when our minds have been occupied by worldly affairs all day. The mind wanders. We become restless. Sometimes we feel nothing at all.
But should that discourage us?
When we first learned to drive, we did not abandon the car because we struggled to stay within the lanes.
Why should we approach our spiritual development any differently?
There have been moments in my own life when, sitting in the Hazoori of Guru Sahib, I have tried to bring my entire attention to the Shabad. I sit with my posture straight, my ears attentive to Gurbani, and my mind gradually turning inward. At times, I focus my attention between my eyebrows, trying to withdraw it from the distractions around me.
And sometimes, something changes.
At times, I experience a sense of inner pleasure that is difficult to describe. It is not the pleasure we ordinarily seek through the world around us. It does not come from acquiring something, accomplishing something, or being praised by someone.
In those moments, the things that seemed so important outside the Gurdwara no longer occupy the same place in my mind.
I cannot claim to have mastered this practice. Far from it. But those experiences have convinced me that there is much more to discover if we are willing to give our time and attention to the Guru.
And that is perhaps where many of us fall short.
We want the strength that comes from faith, but are we prepared to practise the devotion that gives rise to it?
We want our children to remain connected to Sikhi, but what are they witnessing in our own lives?
Our families travel across the world. We spend considerable money and effort planning holidays, visiting new places, and creating memories. There is nothing wrong with any of this.
But among those journeys, why not make room for a pilgrimage?
Visit the historic Gurdwaras of our Gurus with your children. Spend a few days in the company of Gursikhs. Sit in the Sangat without constantly watching the clock. Allow yourself the time to listen, to reflect, and perhaps even to struggle with your own thoughts.
Let your children experience something beyond what they learn from a book or hear during an occasional visit to the Gurdwara.
A pilgrimage is not simply about arriving at a sacred place, taking a photograph, and returning home. Its value lies in what we allow that journey to do to us.
And perhaps the greatest journey is the one that begins when we finally sit still.
There is much more to explore about the human mind, the pull of desire, and the spiritual potential within us. Gurbani asks us to confront Kaam, our attachment to sensual desire, while turning our consciousness towards Naam, the remembrance of Waheguru. What happens within a person who begins to make that change deserves far more reflection than I can offer here.
I also believe that the human body and mind hold possibilities we have barely begun to understand. Science can tell us much about their workings, but I would hesitate to think that everything about our inner spiritual experience has already been explained.
For now, I would rather leave you with something to try than another argument to accept.
Make some time for the Hazoori of Guru Sahib. Not merely to be present, but to listen. Return even when the mind wanders. Return even when you feel nothing.
Take your family with you when you can.
Give yourself the opportunity to discover what years of distraction may have kept you from experiencing.
We have inherited a remarkable spiritual tradition. But inheritance alone cannot give us the experience of living it.
Shakti comes from Bhagti.
But we must make time for Bhagti.
Originally reflected upon in an X post dated 2025. Expanded and revised for publication in October 2026.