Goodbye, Dear Father

Loss of livelihoods is bad enough, compounded by illness and loss of some near and dear to many people.

Humanity now lives under a pall of great fear as the pandemic stalks the land.

No amount of sympathy and condolence can fill the void of sorrow. But life will go on irrespective of how we feel. 

I am reminded of the loss of my father Sardar Man Singh ji, his life and the great lessons he provided us.

Six years ago, on the 1st day of Sept with a gurgle and a cough my father left this world just as he arrived into it.

I was inconsolable, because my mindless heart could not stop crying.
I was unduly brave, because my heartless mind refused to let me grieve. 

Some said it was an auspicious day to die. 
How can any day be a good day to lose someone you love? 

Fate was both kind and cruel to our father, Sardar Man Singh ji (1928 -2014). In spite of his many failings his life was crowned with great success and accomplishments. In spite of his kind, brilliant, hardworking, witty and charming nature he encountered numerous misfortunes. Yet he never lost his balance nor his zest for life. 

On the contrary he transformed setbacks into success and taught his family, friends and colleagues so much by sharing through stories his own experiences and learning. He thus enriched the lives of whoever he touched.

Father was old but in good health, yet he knew that his time was near. He thanked everyone in his life and sought forgiveness from them  for any offence he may have caused them. He devoted the last decade of his life time and effort to helping whoever and whenever he could. The critical and aggressive nature so essential for achievement was replaced by understanding and compassion.

The spirit and wisdom
is transmitted through the generations

As the Guru taught, life is uncertain, for we are owners only of this moment this breath, for we know not whether the next moment, the next breath may come or not.

So use this moment and do what is important, to meditate and understand the insignificance of man and the infiniteness of Creation/Creator in the general scheme of existence.  

As I noticed with my father a transformation took place. We begin to view everyone as good at heart and some as merely misguided. The heart overflows with love and compassion, respect and contentment for whatever life doles out.  A friendly nature emerges not out of cowardice but fearlessness.

As I witnessed with our father, such an awakening enables us to confront all sorts of challenges, to unflinchingly cope with  the most difficult situation, possess the sagacity to accept the outcome and the courage to embrace the inevitable. 

Such a being, a warrior knows, one can fight and yet lose or one can pass on with dignity and grace and yet win.That is why they give life the best they can.

Please, hold my hand.

Many years ago, a friend shared an anecdote with me. Which I now recall every 'Father's day'.

A little girl was walking along a path with her father, when they came to a rickety and treacherous bridge. Instinctively the father stretched out his hand to his daughter and said; "Here, take my hand."

The daughter replied; "No father, you please hold my hand."

The father was confused, "What is the difference, whether you hold my hand or I hold yours?"

The little girl smilingly said, "If I hold your hand and stumble, I may let go of your hand, but if you hold my hand I know you will never ever let me fall."

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Living in Dubai at that time, I telephoned my late father from who I had become estranged, to hear his voice and to tell him I loved him. We both wept as I expressed my gratefulness  for the countless blessings that he had bestowed upon me. Asked him, to forgive me for the pain I had caused him. Finally, my desire to be with him, especially on that Father's day.

Somewhere along the way, when we tasted the fruits of material success we forgot an important fact. Our achievements were the result not only of our labour but also the investment in, care, protection, values, love, wisdom, etc. provided by our teachers and parents. 

Protected by the shield of our parents love and blessings, their spiritual energies merging into ours we experienced success and happiness.

Youth normally tends to be arrogant. When combined with success and wealth, youth grows impudent. Without meaning to nor realising it, we offended and disrespected our parents with our dismissive manner and reckless choice of words.

Success, fame and wealth makes us believe that the love and blessings of parents is superfluous, and hence we squander this fortune. 

When we began ignoring their love and disregarded the importance of their blessings,  we soon found ourselves engulfed by a tsunami of problems and misfortune.

For several years I wandered in material, emotional and spiritual wilderness. 

Fortunately, with the Guru's grace, and the support of my wife Mohini and our two young sons, I was and transformed for the better. I returned to the open arms and heart of my parents.

Maybe it's a coincidence, but thereafter my life blossomed once again. I was materially poorer, but emotionally and spiritually richer. Living in the present, I am  free of want and fear.

There is a reason that in India, often father is described as 'Ana-Data' the same term used for God (provider). If we care to look beyond the human failings and at the sublime, we will catch a glimpse of the Creator.

Fathers tend to be obstinate and difficult. They are impossible to fathom, often embarrassing and exasperating us. 

Still, like a noble emperor with a big yet humble heart, love and respect them. As sure as the seasons follow one another, one day each one of us will also thirst for love and understanding.

Actually, Everyday is 'Fathers Day'

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Why is it so delicious?

My wife had served us a delicious meal and my thoughts flashed back to my mother.

I had gone to meet my mother as I often did. As always with folded hands, I bowed to mother and touched her feet. Gripping me by the shoulders she picked me up and  embraced me. The glowing delight on her face was all encompassing.

After a brief update, she stood up and said, "You must be hungry? Let me get you some lunch. It's hot out there, you must be thirsty, what would you like to drink?"

Mothers are always happy to see their children. After they see them, all they think of is feeding their offspring. They see their child, and instantly they want to stuff food into their child's mouth.

Love and food. Two of human beings very important nutrients. Delicious served unconditionally with a smile and for free. All they want is our time and attention.

Mother darted into the kitchen asked her maid to help her and shooed me out of the kitchen. In a little while, the aroma of the cooking tickled my nose and palette.  Presto! there was some irresistible and delicious food for me to eat. I simply wolfed it down and then some more. 

Whatever mother cooked, it was so tasty, even the most common of dishes were transformed into something delicious. My wife Mohini too is a fantastic cook, particularly when she is cooking for her sons. 

I couldn't but help think, 'Wow! Mother's are so special. They love and respect us even when our behaviour makes us unworthy of their devotion'.  

I recalled one evening, when I was a young man, our mother had served our father and all of us a tasty meal. After dinner my father asked us," Did you ever think about,  why your mother's cooking is so delicious?"

The questioned gnawed at me. So whenever I ate my mother's cooking, I thought about it. I nagged mother to tell me, but she just laughed it off. I tried to study what it was that she was doing, and try to understand the secret. After a year I gave up and asked Dad. 

His explanation was life changing. "Your mother adds a secret ingredient, and its called love. Whenever someone prepares food with love which inevitably a mother, and often a lover, wife, daughter, sister, granny or aunt do, the food is always delicious".

To the modern mind preoccupied with materialism, and the compulsive need to count and measure everything, the concept of love and friendship appears rather naive and old fashioned. 

Love and friendship are anything but matters of fashion, they were, they are and they will remain the essence of a meaningful life.

I have learnt through these experiences that, 

Anything done with love, passion and commitment is bound to be extraordinarily and rich.

Please, keep us near

Mohini and I spent this new year eve staying at home to look after our grandson and each other. A visit to the Gurudwara (Sikh temple), followed by a quiet dinner and a surprise visit by our friends Anupam and Priya.

As we grey, we spend half the time looking back and reminiscing. We recalled a new year we celebrated 16 years ago.

"Dad, I want to welcome the new year in with you and mom. Can we come with you to the party you are going with your friends on new years eve?" asked our son Mohit. He was 15 and our younger son Pavit was 13 at that time.

"Of course not", I retorted. "You better go along with your friends, that is who you should be spending your new year time with." 

I simply ignored Mohit's sad and crest fallen look. I was making a man out of my son, he had to learn to be strong and independent. In fact, I felt damn proud of myself as I left for work.

That evening Mohini my wife asked, "What did you say  to Mohit? Why can't the boys come with us? I have spoken to our friends, they are quite comfortable if our boys come with us to the dinner and dance. Please let them come."

"No my decision is made and please don't argue with me", I said curtly.

"Do you know what your son said? Do you have any idea what is going on in that young boy's mind and heart?"

"Don't make a sissy out of him", I scolded her.

She made me sit down and explained to me as a woman often has to explain to her man the eldest child in her family. " He says, mom , very soon I will be busy, with my friends in college and then my professional studies in Engineering,  my working career will dominate and marriage thereafter.  We have only these few years remaining,  that we can four spend real quality time together. I want to spend it with you both so that I can relish it all my life.  This is why I want us to be with you both. We will never have this time again. So please keep us close to you, while you can."

My macho arrogance had blinded me and had stolen my empathy and love. It had made me both senseless and heartless. Could I not have had the same conversation with my son as Mohini had? Why had I failed to hear and feel what he so dearly felt?

Tears welled in my eyes and I wanted to kick myself. How could I make it up to them? I went to his room and their he sat reading a book. He said, "Mom explained everything to me. Dad it's ok, that you cannot take us with you. You and mom have a great time. Pavit and I  will just chill out at home and watch TV."

I walked up to him, stood him up from his chair and embraced him real tight, and kissed him on his forehead. I said, "I am sorry, I refused you in the morning. On second thought, it will be a great idea if you came with us."

We all went together, the four of us, to the new year party. We sang and we danced, and we laughed until our stomachs ached. We then danced and laughed a lot more.. It was a fabulous, unforgettable fun filled evening.

Our sons have grown up and are now married, and Mohit is a father now. Everything has happened almost exactly as he foresaw it. 

With the onset of adulthood, intensity levels and differences in preference are more dramatic. This is only natural. We don't go to many functions or parties together with our children anymore. They devote more time at work,  devote quality time to to their wives, and are comfortable with their friends. 

Nowadays when the six of us do go out together, we still laugh a lot, but it is somewhat different. The love is strong, and that magic is still there, but it is not so overpowering anymore. Not so intense and definitely less insane. 

Goodbye dear father.

On the 1st day of Sept with a gurgle and a cough my father left this world just as he arrived into it.

Concerned friends and relatives, dutifully tried to console me.
I was inconsolable because my mindless heart could not stop crying.
I was unduly brave because my heartless mind refused to let me grieve.

Some said it was an auspicious day to die. How can any day be a good day to lose someone you love?

Brilliant, hardworking, witty and charming, our father Man Singh ji 1928 -2014) was an extraordinary teacher and man. Even in his passing on from this world he continued to provide valuable lessons.

Dad's life was a very long roller coaster ride, achieving great heights and many precipitous falls. Yet the spirit of such people always remains strong. They are warriors fighting against great odds and overcoming challenges.

Dad and Uncle Manohar Singh ji, created great fortunes against huge odds only to lose them due to greater misfortune time and again. 'Never give up', was their motto. yet when this life's journey's end is near the good soul knows when to give in to His will.

My dad had been bidding farewell gently, from the past three years. His vision dimmed, hearing gone, and his speech almost silent. Dad's being was blanketed by wonderful grace and an erie calmness.

Maybe God answered Dad's prayers by taking away all anger, ego and greed from him. It was a blessing, for dad stopped judging people and events. He saw only goodness and wonder in everyone and everything.

We spent many mornings together and I learnt much by being with him. I want to share this learning with you.

In spite of having much to be angry and resentful about, dad's heart was at peace, filled with humility, love and compassion he sought forgiveness from one and all. He meditated and prayed a lot. 

Especially when young, 'Man the Animal' is selfish and filled with insatiable greed for power, wealth and influence. As people age and if they are blessed, 'Man the Saint' is filled with understanding, love and compassion, and like a pendulum our lives swing between these two extremes. 

Failings my dad had many. Drive and intelligence he had even more. Kindness and  compassion he possessed beyond belief. My dad was an enigma. Come to think of it, most children can never understand their parents. All that lucky children can get, is the opportunity to appreciate and take advantage of the bounty of love and learning that they get showered with by their parents.

The soul always knows what is right, but rarely do we listen to it, because the mind will not be still. This is what prayer and then mediation is all about, the ability to listen to the soul.

Therefore the search for truth and understanding is never an outward journey but an inward journey. A journey to the core of our existence which is possible only by meditating.

The soul is like a Hans (Swan) which wants to soar to the heavens and reunite with God but it is shackled to this material world by our lust, greed, attachments, anger and ego. 

God has been kind to my father in the past several years by unshackling him almost completely from all these normal human traits. I pray that He will receive and accept my father Man Singh ji and grant his soul peace.

* Goodbye is a short form of 'God be with you'

'It is not your fault' - Mahatma Gandhi.

Today is Mahatma* Gandhi's birthday. Love him or criticize him but you cannot ignore him, nor deny his incredible impact on humanity. Based on the highest of principles, blended with a singularity of purpose, a purity of heart and sharp intellect Gandhi ji was and remains a powerful influence on many people. 

The Mahatma has enriched our world with his greatness, and humility.  His unconventional and yet truthful approach is an example of how to Channelise a vision into action to achieve great impact. 

A defining feature of a Mahatma (great soul)  is the humility and compassion for all beings and God's creation. Born out of great spiritual courage and truthfulness a Mahatma is always courageous in thought, utterances and deed. 

Often harsh in their truthful criticism,  there is never the slightest trace of malice in what a Mahatma says and does. 

A Mahatma would blame himself rather than anyone else for their situation. This is a hallmark of a great leader, who never blames others but accept ownership and responsibility of all problems.

Here is an example, for your learning pleasure.

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Gandhi ji started his professional and mission for universal brotherhood and justice in South Africa in 1903. A Mahatma inevitably undergoes great hardships, but their spiritual courage prevails.

Gandhi ji had many supporters and one of his great admirers and followers was a German industrialist named Hermann Kallenbach. In 1912 Kallenbach bought eleven hundred acres of land near Johannesburg and gave them to Gandhi ji, who founded a settlement called Tolstoy Farm (Gandhi ji was a great admirer of the Russian writer Leo Tolstoy and they corresponded frequently.)

One day Gandhi ji, had to travel from Tolstoy Farm to Johannesburg for some meetings and the car that they used at Tolstoy farm needed to be serviced at the garage. He asked his son Manilal to accompany him to town. Gandhi ji instructed Manilal that while he attended the meetings Manilal should get the car serviced and then return to pick up Gandhi ji for the journey back home at 5:30 pm.

After delivering the car to the garage young Manilal decided to pass the time by going to watch an entertainment show, where he lost all sense of time. When Manilal had failed to arrive at the appointed time Gandhi ji had contacted the garage and had been informed that the car was ready since 4:00 pm and they were waiting for it to be picked up.

Manilal panicked when he suddenly realised it  was 6:00 pm as  the show ended. He hurried to the garage to collect the car and then Gandhi ji.  His father Gandhi ji would be waiting and Manilal thought it best to just tell an innocent lie. He told Gandhi ji that he was delayed because the garage staff could not finish the servicing in time.

Gandhi ji looked at his son with dismay and said; " That you must lie,  disappoints and deeply saddens me. However I do not blame you, it is all my fault. There must have been some lapses or deficiencies from my side and I must have made some mistake in your upbringing." "I will have to atone for my mistake  and I wonder what I must do?" Gandhi ji continued.

Manilal felt ashamed, and apologised. However Gandhi ji refused to accept Manilal's apology saying that it was not Manilal's fault and blamed only himself. After a minute spent deep in thought Gandhi ji declared; "I will punish myself by walking home rather than drive there. Manilal, you take the car home and I will come walk home." Gandhi ji immediately started walking toward home which was 27 kilometres away.

Understanding parents is normally a challenge and understanding a Mahatma almost impossible. Manilal sought his father's forgiveness and kept apologising profusely. Gandhi ji simply turned a deaf ear and kept on plodding along.

After walking for many hours all night long, Gandhi ji arrived home early in the morning with Manilal trailing in the car the entire way.  Gandhi ji did not complain about Manilal to anyone, and offered no explanation for the reason for the delay to the questioning residents of Tolstoy Farm.

The ashamed Manilal confessed to the worried residents of Tolstoy farm of what had transpired. Manilal was filled with remorse by his poor conduct, and vowed never to tell a lie again. From that day on Manilal devoted most of his life spreading the message of the Mahatma.

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My thanks to the compassionate and talented Dr. Naresh Thukral who also happens to be my brother in law for narrating this incident to me.

*Why do we call Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi a 'Mahatma'? 
We are all just little souls 'athma' and tiny fragments of the one soul, 'Param Athma,' the Creator. With divine blessing an ordinary soul becomes a 'Maha Athma,' a great soul. Ordinary souls may touch you now and then but a Mahatma transforms you.

How old is your son?

Kind and  helpful my friend Dr. Anil Lamba is also a brilliant teacher.  Author and producer of a range of educational courses particularly on finance, he often weaves stories into his program to illuminate a view.

Reproduced here is a real life incident he narrated during a program I attended.
Once while traveling by train Anil's co-passengers included a couple and their little son.

Midway through the journey the ticket checker  came and began verifying the tickets of the passengers. He checked the tickets of this young family. They had two adult tickets for themselves and a half fare ticket for their boy.

The checker smiled at the boy enquired from the father "Your son is handsome, how old is he?'

The father replied; "he is seven."

After the checker left, another co-passenger remarked, "You know  your son is rather small built for his age.  He does not look like he is seven.  You could have easily passed him off as a five year old or younger. No one would have known any better and you could have avoided spending money on his ticket ."  (Children below the age of five need not buy a ticket)

The father smiled and said "You are right, no one else would know, but my son would know. That my dear Sir, is something I prefer not to teach my son."


Those who want to know more about Dr. Anil Lamba can visit www.lamconschool.com

Hold my hand

A little girl was walking along a path with her father when they came to a treacherous section. Instinctively the father stretched out his hand to his daughter and said; "Here hold my hand."

The daughter replied; "No dad you hold my hand."

The father was confused, "What is the difference, whether you hold my hand or I hold yours?"

The little girl smilingly said, "If I hold your hand and stumble I may let go off your hand, but if you hold my hand I know you will never ever let go."

---

What a lovely narration I had received from a friend on this father's day. I called up my father to hear his voice and to tell him I loved him and how I wished I could be with him on this day.

Somewhere along the way when we tasted the fruits of success we forgot an important fact. Our achievements were the result not only of our labour but also the investment of, values, wisdom of our teachers our elders and most of all our parents in us. As long as our parents watched over us, blessed us and prayed for us we were invincible.

If put in a spiritual context I believe that each person is nurtured and protected by a protective umbrella of the blessings of our parents and God. I have personally experienced it. Soon after we let go our our parents shunned their blessings ignored their love, we as a family went into total decline. This is also experienced by many people no matter what their age is, who feel exposed and vulnerable upon the passing away of a parent or beloved elder.

Their love and blessing I always had, but I had travelled too far down the road. I worked hard to journey back over many years to become worthy of them. Now with their love, and blessings my life has blossomed once again.




As with each interaction I reflected on this issue and my mind opened a window in which I saw the image of an uncle and his tortured existence. While I am lucky to be able to serve my parents and obtain their blessings and love, a distant Uncle of mine in Thailand is not so fortunate. His parents are not with him and neither are most of his siblings.

He lost the love and blessings of his parents and all his siblings who were older than him. His material growth and his physical /emotional decline started almost 45 years ago with the complete nationalisation of all private assets by the Burmese government in 1964.

As the Burmese government nationalised everything most Indians fled Burma. My extremely wealthy and honourable grand-uncle converted his entire wealth from cash to rubies and arranged to have them smuggled them out from Burma to his youngest son in Bangkok, so that the family could start life all over again.

This uncle receive all the wealth and set up a very successful business. When his brothers escaped from Burma they called upon this uncle who turned his back on his brothers claiming that all he received was a pittance and the wealth that the brothers saw was the result of his personal hard work and therefore they could not expect anything from him.

The heartbroken brothers felt cheated by their youngest brother. They dispersed all over the world and started to rebuild their lives all over again from scratch. They had neither the time nor the energy for conflict and revenge. They simply stopped thinking of their enormous wealth and a brother, as if he never ever existed at all.

My grand-uncle was a giant of an achiever. He was brilliant and hardworking, but age was not on his side. The shock of the betrayal of his son so traumatised him that he fell ill. He passed away thirty five years ago, a sad and bitter man. On his deathbed he cursed his son; " He who has so wrongfully cheated his own family would never ever be able to enjoy the wealth that he had stolen".

It appears from visible facts that the curse has all but destroyed my uncle and his family. He who allegedly wronged his brothers fell seriously ill soon after the death of his father.

For past 30 years this uncle has lost use of his body and he lies on his bed in his fabulous mansion. Surrounded day and night by a battery of doctors and nurses with no friends nor companions. He cannot move and lies on his bed with most of the systems in his body having failed.

The puncture made in his throat by his doctors permits him to breathe and to be fed by various tubes. A sad sight he makes in addition to the almost unbearable eerie rasping noise his breathing makes.

This almost completely paralysed man my uncle, the owner of millions of dollars, but not of his own life and body. He can only move one arm. His torment is magnified by an extremely alert mind as he wallows in his misery. My uncle is prepared to give up all his wealth to make right his folly and greed, alas it is too late. His father and most of his family have passed away a long time ago. He has no one to make peace with.

I know fathers are difficult people and they exasperate us, but if we look beyond the obvious at the sublime we will catch a glimpse of our creator. So starting this father's day let us cherish our parents, tell and show them that we love them.

I have come to appreciate that we must be humble enough to overlook their weaknesses, love them for their strengths and all the goodness they have showered on us and fear them for their wrath.

I pray that all those that have the good fortune of receiving the love and blessing of your parents continue to do so, and those that have somehow lost that love and goodwill will in the coming days have the opportunity to earn their blessings and love once again.

I remember that everyday is 'Fathers Day'

How would you like it?

We human beings are somewhat the same underneath these masks that we wear and the games that we play. I think it is great that we get an occasional reality check.

Inside many of us lurks a dominating bully if only we could find someone to torment. Many parents, teachers and bosses are guilty of this offense.
We accumulate our frustrations with other people and things and bring that garbage back with us, only to dump them on the people who love us most, our family and friends.
One day I got upset at a trivial act of Mohit my son who was 15 at that time. I ranted and was an inexcusably horrible person.

After 10 minutes I had physically exhausted all my frustration, but my ego made me feel that I was completely justified in my conduct. Mohit looked at me straight in the eye and asked, "Dad, how would you feel  if I spoke to you in the same manner?"

Respectfully and in one soft spoken question my son deflated me of all my toxic anger and I felt terribly stupid and deeply ashamed. I realised that day that my son had grown up into a giant of a personality whereas I felt I had somewhat shrivelled.

Tears came to my eyes and  I hugged Mohit. It was then that he broke down sobbing uncontrollably. It has been 15 years since that incident and never again did I speak with anyone again in that thoughtless and rude manner.

The child is indeed the father of man.

I thought they were poor.

6th December 1993. It was my noble Father in law Major Mohinder Singh ji's 7th death anniversary. 

Mohini, my gentle hearted wife wanted to do something thoughtful as a tribute to her father. We agreed that it would be nice to provide warm shawls to the poor. So we bought a 100 woolen shawls and distributed some to the cook, maid chauffeur and the watchmen and some underprivileged people in the immediate neighbourhood. 

The problem with the Sikh people is they are a hardworking and therefore a prosperous community.  We therefore had no clue where we would find poor people in Pune so we decided to drive around at night and find homeless people and gift them the remaining 85 shawls. Better still we would take our young sons Mohit (10) and Pavit (8) to accompany us to learn about charity.

We were amazed that we could not find any homeless person. Damn! You can't find beggars when you want them. After about 20 min of cruising around in the cold we eventually saw a man sitting cross legged under a tree wearing only a loin cloth.

Mohini asked the boys to gift the shawls with their own hands. So the boys eagerly grabbed one shawl and ran up to him and said "Namaste! it is very cold, we would like you to have this shawl to keep you warm." The boys were shocked when the man snatched the shawl and flung it in the other direction. He scowled at the boys and they fled back to the car.

We drove towards the railway station, there would certainly be some poor people there. After about half an hour, we finally spotted a man sitting on the pavement with two medium sized plastic shopping bags. He appeared lost in thought. Our sons cautiously walked up to him and handed him a shawl.

He was taken aback. He returned the shawl saying, "I don't need this shawl." The boys pressed him to keep it saying that "Don't worry you don't have to pay for it. It's a gift and it will keep you warm during these cold winter nights."

He replied in a strange tone, "I am already struggling to cope with so many possessions" and he pointed to the two plastic bags. "Please take your shawl back as I have no place to keep it. Thank you for your kindness but I am quite comfortable."

Confused and dejected the boys returned back to the car. They refused to proceed with the charity effort that night.

Mohit said "Really strange, we thought these guys were poor, but they behave like they are very wealthy,  mom do you think they are crazy? He is content with his meagre possessions and no roof over his head." He asked "Dad, mom, how can that be possible?"

We had no answer as we drove back home silently, each of us lost in our thoughts, mulling over what had just transpired. It has been 22 years since that incident but none of us speaks about charity in the same arrogant patronising manner anymore. Much, much later we finally came to realise the meaning of that evening.

• The rich are not those who have much but those that have stopped desiring more.
• By accepting the donation the recipient defines the donor.                                                        

The next day we handed the remaining shawls to the Gurudwara* for distribution to the needy.

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A Gurudwara - is a place of congregation for Sikhs to hold religious discourses. They also feed the needy.