“Here we are. This is the Sikh Temple.”
I fumble around in my pocket for my phone and open up Google Maps, staring down at the little blue dot that represents our location. He’s right, we’re at a Sikh temple, just not the Sikh temple that I had requested. The blip on my screen says we’re at Gurudwara Shri Rakab Ganj Sahib. The location that I had set was Gurudwara Bangla Sahib. While to you, that may seem like an easy mistake to make, to me – a person that had spent the last two and a half weeks honing my bullshit detector to the point that it could sniff out a fraudulent tuk-tuk driver a mile away – it was clearly a ruse.
I could feel the pent-up rage building; My face turning a slight maroon and the grip my phone tightening. “This isn’t Gurudwara Bangla Sahib” I utter through clenched teeth. It’s a trick I had experienced before, a driver dropping you off at the wrong destination just so that they can get their fare without taking you the extra distance. In this case, just one and a half kilometres further down the road. I know what’s coming. “No, we’re here. Look, it is the Sikh temple.” He snapped back. There is no way that someone spending their days driving around this part of Delhi would mistake this place for one of Delhi’s more popular sights. We both know it, he just won’t give up the charade.
I’m about to burst into a foul-mouthed tirade when a turbaned man stops and looks suspiciously back and forth from me to the driver and back again. He’s walking from the temple to his car when our argument “Is there a problem.” He aims the question as me, in English. I explain my predicament and his eyes narrow as he glares at the fraudster. He switches to Hindi and their conversation starts out even-tempered before erupting into a back and forth of shouts and wild hand gestures. Their arms flail as they both point to me and then extend their arms towards the temple, voices rising in volume with every sentence. The Sikh man cuts off the conversation to turn to me. “He’ll take you to the correct Temple.”
We splutter in a cloud of soot back onto the streets of central Delhi, the anger quickly subsiding as it is replaced with confusion and dismay out our driver weaving through the traffic-clogged streets, bouncing between the cars, carts and cows. I spot the Nishan Sahib – The Sikh triangular flag, dandelion yellow with a royal blue khanda – before I see the temple itself but soon we pull up outside Gurudwara Bangla Sahib. “I’ll wait outside for you, in case you want a ride to your hotel.” Not likely, mate.
Gurudwara Bangla Sahib is the most prominent Sikh house of worship in Delhi. It was first built as a small shrine in 1783 to honour the eighth Sikh Guru, Guru Har Krishan. The gurdwara stands on the site where Guru Hari Krishan, the eighth of 10 Sikh gurus who lived between 1469 and 1708, performed a small miracle. Guru Hari Krishan used to distribute sanctified water to the sick, believing it had a miraculous healing effect on their mind, body, and soul, and people still treat the contents of Gurudwara Bangla Sahib’s pools as holy water.
Today, Gurudwara Bangla Sahib is a far cry from just a small shrine over a well. I remove my shoes and store them in a rack before stepping through a shallow cleansing pool – the kind you used to have at public swimming pools in the early ’90s, filled with brightly coloured liquid that you and your friends would try to run through without getting your feet fully submerged – and up the steps towards the temple. I emerge in a gleaming marble courtyard. Sikh gurdwaras reflect both the symmetry of Mughal mosques and the chaos of Hindu temples and this one, in particular, is a hive of activity. No surprise, given Delhi’s huge Sikh population, most of whom came here as refugees from Pakistan in 1947. The gurdwara itself is particularly ostentatious, every surface a pure, shimmering white, topped with a gilded, gold onion dome.
At this Sikh Temple, like all others, everyone is welcome, regardless of your denomination. The Gurudwara Bangla Sahib even has a visitors centre where you can learn more about the cornerstones of the Sikh faith: Sewa (service to community and God) and Simran (remembrance of God) as well as the ten Sikh gurus and the five Ks, items that Sikhs have on them at all times. As I step into the courtyard, a man gestures to my head, removing a piece of orange fabric from a bin of colourful bandanas and then carefully ties it around my forehead for me.
We make our way under the golden canopy and step inside the temple itself. A peacefulness envelopes me as a walk around the shrine; a golden archway containing a copy of the Guru Granth Sahib, the holy text of the Sikh religion. Beside it, musicians softly play Gurbani, or religious hymns, while worshippers sit on the floor, circling them and singing in a soft hum. Hymns from the holy book are sung continuously from well before sunrise until approximately 9 pm when a ceremony takes place to store the book away for the night. The quiet seemed not so much peaceful as mandated by the surroundings, as people watched with interest or religious fervour.
We walk clockwise around the temple exiting on its right side, passing a man handing out Karah Parshad – a type of semolina halva made with whole-wheat flour, sugar and ghee – into the open palms of people leaving the building. The Sewadar serves it out of the same bowl to everyone in equal portions and offering and receiving of this food is a vital part of hospitality protocols.
We emerge from the Gurudwara in front of the Sarovar, and expansive pool thought to contain healing waters. It’s busy around the water as families gather, children play and teenagers relax in the ornate alcoves that surround the courtyard. occasionally people approach the water, kneeling at its edge and quickly splashing their face. Despite the crowds, it is quiet and serene, a sharp contrast to the chaos on the streets outside. Somehow the traffic noise and cacophony of horns fade away and you’re left with a serene calmness.
While visitors are welcome, I can tell that I am a novelty here. I occasionally spot teens taking sneaking photos of me, while more brazen people approach me and ask for a selfie. It’s either because I’m one of the few non-Indians at the temple, or because I look ridiculous in a bandana. children stare, locking eyes with me, giggling, then looking away quickly. It’s a game that continues with dozens of people as I circle the pool.
As evening draws in, families strip off and climb into the healing waters. I decide that I have had my fill of tranquillity, relieving myself of my bright orange headgear and collecting my shoes. I take a deep breathe, steadying myself to venture back onto the Delhi streets and to find an honest tuk-tuk driver.
Information
Gurudwara Bangla Sahib is open at all times, every day of the week.
Entry to the complex is completely free.
- Cover your head with a scarf or dupattas as long as you are within the premises of the Gurudwara Bangla Sahib.
- Headcoverings are available to take from a basket near the entrance.
- There is no photography allowed within the Gurudwara building.
- Wear unrevealing clothes – long trousers, and sleeved shirts/ tops.
Getting There
The closest metro station is Patel Chowk, Connaught Place. It is around 2 km (6 minutes) from the Gurudwara Bangla Sahib. From there, you can take a taxi, auto-rickshaw or cab to reach Gurudwara Bangla Sahib. A tuk-tuk should cost around 25 Rs, but expect to be charged more.
3 Responses
Such a holly place.
You can feel the inner peace when you visit this place.
Even if you are not a Sikh you should visit this place once in life.
Literally can feel the warmth of people’s love their hospitality.
Amazing place.
Thanks For the sharing such a great information with beautiful pictures 🙂
This is on my list!
The pent-up rage comment made me laugh because I am literally the same! Glad you spotted it and got him to take you there! It’s sounds incredible!
I think you’ll really like it Ellie, it’s lovely and peaceful! Make sure you eat Langur while you’re there – they apparently cook 10,000 free meals a day so its a good chance to sit and eat some authentic food with locals!
I think I’m lucky that the Sikh guy stepped in, otherwise I don;t think the tuk-tuk driver would have taken me further and we would have ended up in a full blown argument. After weeks of drivers attempting to rip me off, I was getting a little sick of it. It wasn’t even about the money (a pound or less each time) but just a matter of principle!