Service With a Smile

“Whenever the zikhar of Sewa is mentioned, Basant ji, your name will be there.”

My mum’s closest friend, and adopted elder sister, my Kamlesh Aunty shared these words with us all in side room 1 of ward A8, as my darling mum took her last breath.

Mum had an obsession to serve. She put others at the heart of everything she did. She lived and breathed service to others. She was filled with this love of giving, and she made it central to her existence.

Mum was the epitome of service with a smile. She became The UK’s first sisters volunteer lead for the West Midlands Volunteers in 2005 with the blessings of Baba Hardev Singh Ji. Absolutely aware of the weight of the responsibility now on her shoulders, she kept her motivation the same as it was always. To serve with love. This she did to her last breath.

Within the art of Sewa is a spirit of selflessness. She didn’t think of it as that exactly. She thought of it as unconditional love. The act of giving with the purest love, like a parent to a child, she served.

Kamlesh Aunty shared a story with us, that I had never heard, and which made me understand mum a little bit more.

When mum was expecting my youngest sister, she was really scared of having to tell her mum. She confided in my aunt who shared with us, that mum was worried that nan would tell her off!

She thought that nan would say “you have 2 children already, when are you going to have time to carry out your sewa and the service of the sangat if you spend too much time raising a family?” – and this expectation and fear really worried mum. 

Anyway, when Nav was born in ’86, my nan came to visit and live with us for a while. It was this year that nan had seen what mum’s life in the UK was really like, how the family were, the sangat here, and her friends. And she was quite surprised!

Nan noticed that the house was really quite compared to the hustle and bustle of Saharanpur bhawan where she lived a congregation space of sangat every day, devotees visiting 2-3 times a day, and never a quiet moment, visiting homes of devotees to share in their joy and sorrow.

It was at this point that my nan had said that mum’s life needed a spirituality boost – now is time to start a ladies congregation. 

And so it was born. 

Out of my nan’s blessing, from our little home in Wolverhampton, following my little sister’s arrival into the world, that he ladies sangat started.

And 38 years later, it’s still going.

He’s finally talking.

Sid has taken the loss of his daddima really hard.

He’s not much of a talker when it comes to what he is feeling but yesterday (Sunday 4th Feb) he took out the iPad and started to create a list for all of us to complete about mums qualities and funny moments.

Here’s what he writes

when I’d have a sleepover with her, I’d always go right to the corner [of the bed] as it was hot in the bedroom so I could get out of bed if I felt too hot but she’d always pull me back into the middle of the bed and would say that it’s to dangerous in case I fell.

That constant sense of caring that she always had was amazing. I thought nothing could compare with her sewa but this almost beats it!”

He’s healing slowly. But he’s healing.

Pots, Pans and a Spoonful of Ghee

It’ll just take 2 minutes. What’s the problem? There is no issue – just 2 minutes“ Was one of mum’s all time top lines. Whenever we wanted anything to eat, or if she asked if we wanted anything to eat (which she was relentless at) she would reply with this.

Mum’s love language, service language, was to make sure that we were satiated. To her, our full bellies, smiling faces in awe of her amazing cooking, were what seemed to drive her.

17th November 23. After her brain tumour diagnosis, she could barely stand, but she wanted to cook.

As a young child, I remember her making sure that she was up first, making the tea, toast and eggs, and then making sure that we have 5 almonds each, each morning, before leaving for school.

And not just us 3. 

It was my cousin who would call for me in the morning, and my sisters friends who would call for her. And anyone else who would come round in the morning.

She served with love, and loved to serve. Nothing was ever any trouble for her.

We all got them. Those precious 5 almonds, that had been soaking overnight, and then painstakingly peeled by mum in the morning.

When my son was ready to eat solids, mum was so eager to start feeding him, that as soon as he was able to, his relationship with mum became more about food than anything else. She didnt spend time on teaching him to speak Punjabi or Hindi, or teaching him hymns to sing, she just wanted to bring him food, like he was some little maharaja, getting fresh fruit, ice creams, cakes, chicken curry, and her famous, renowned aloo paranthas.

We would always say, “mum don’t go to the effort and stress” and she would just respond ” It’s only going to take 2 minutes!

Nothing was ever too much trouble for mum.

At her funeral, a number of people came up to me and shared the same story – about how she made something special for their children to eat, even when the kitchen was closed, or if the food had stopped being served, saying that “It’s no trouble – its just 2 minutes

She served with love, and loved to serve. Her whole existence was service. To her Guru, Her family, Her fellow congregants. We were all gems in her crown.

For over 30 years, week in, week out, she and her Spiritual Sisters ran the kitchen at the Centre for Oneness in Wednesbury at the old and new buildings. Consistently, without fail, cetering for each weekly gathering, as well as the multitude of annual national events, weddings, birthdays funerals, all of them. Taking her annual leave off to support the congregation in good times and bad.

Her whole life was spent in this. 

That void of love, of giving, of relentless servitude, is a chasm. She somehow managed to do the work of 3 people, without flinching, and then raising 3 kids through to us becoming parents ourselves.

How, is a question that will never be answered. But I am forever in awe of you my darling mum.

It’s been a long time…

Man its been a long time. I mean a HELL of a long time since I stopped growing through all my facebook and insta notifications and moved over to creating something for myself…

Well… let’s take this slowly shall we …

My son is now 8! 8!!!!

When the hell did that happen!! How did I get an 8 year old????

Does anyone else feel that the cuteness of a young child goes so quickly and the hormonal raging know-it-all phase starts far too early?

Let me know in the comments!

She Sounds Good

She sounds good

She looks good.

She feels good.

She is good.

She’s always good

She’s always going up and down,

doing things for me,

And cuddling and kissing me

whenever I want.

She always looked after me when I was a baby,

And was always nice to me when I was a child.

I always love her

I always love her.

By Siddak Jhamat

(Wednesday 11th November 2020)