A legend retold for the millennials

Despite the warning by the writer that the “use of certain expressions are purely for dramatising the incidents and not meant to outrage, offend or hurt anyone’s feelings”, one feels shocked and wonders how to react to descriptions like “bits of crimson bladder and intestine bubbled up along the knife edge”, “a mongrel pounced on the eye (of a martyr) and swallowed it in one gulp” and “the brain leaking out in a muddy puddle”, that too, on the very first page of the book. 

The opening scene of the book, sacrifice of the ninth Sikh Guru and his Sikhs at Chandni Chowk, fails to convey the true spirit of martyrdom which is an integral part of Sikh religion and history. 

It is unfortunate that the act of sacrifice is reduced to just a bubble though this historical event marks a major change not only in the life of Guru Gobind, who was a child of nine years at the time of the event, and in the religious beliefs of the Kashmiri Pandits for whom and others Guru Tegh Bahadur sacrificed his life. But this day changed the very nature and course of Sikh religion as well. The incident set the stage for the creation of the Khalsa — the beginning of the “Saint-Soldier” race and the use of “The Sacred Sword” — “the sword that the enemies feared and the sword that even the gods respected”. 

Sengupta — reviving the old tradition of influence of Sikhism on Bengali literature and following the footsteps of Rabindranath Tagore who had written on Guru Gobind Singh, Banda Bahadur and Bhai Tharu Singh — has tried to capture the emotions, personality, events and life history of the 10th Sikh Guru. In this fictionalised account, Sengupta has woven a story about treachery as well as trust, betrayal as well as bravery and pain as well as poetry. He has made use of historical texts and fiction to present the various shades of Guru Gobind Singh’s personality — a great leader, a spiritual guru, an extraordinary archer, a poet and a martyr.  

The book, divided into 11 chapters, reflects upon almost all the major events of his life like the martyrdom of his father and four sons, the battle of Bhangani, birth of the Khalsa, Ranjit Nagara, installation of Guru Granth Sahib as the eternal Guru and so on. The Sikh philosophy is presented in a smooth, easy and flowing manner — “Why do we fight?”, “Can a sparrow fight a hawk?”, “How can the tender and the fierce coexist?”, “How can we make love and war at the same time?” Another refreshing aspect of the book is the presentation of the relationship between Guru Gobind Singh and Aurangzeb, not in the form of enmity between the Sikhs and the Muslims but as an opposition of ideologies and attitudes. 

Those not familiar with Guru Gobind Singh and his philosophy can be benefitted by this book which will sometimes make you shudder with fear, sometimes fill you with enthusiasm and admiration for the Guru and at the same time also answers spiritual and mundane questions. 

The right mix of Gurbani, in the backdrop of historical events, makes it an interesting study. Inclusion of the English version of “Zafarnama” (epistle of victory) is an added attraction but the weakest part of the book is the miniscule description of Banda Bahadur and the lacklustre depiction of the war scenes. Though some of the scenes leave a mark but if you compare it with Guru Gobind Singh’s powerful portrayal of battle-scenes, the description does not even come close to it and is reduced to expressions like, “Aaaahhhhhrrrgggh”, “Aaakkrrrraaaamaaannnnn” and many more.

The book is presented as a “pure work of fiction” but a serious reading of the book makes it clearly evident that the author preferred to tread his path cautiously, relying completely on historical accounts of life of the Guru. He seems to have taken liberty only with the scenes depicting Aurangzeb, Jahanara, Tansen etc. 

Though Sengupta has mentioned the works and Banis composed by Guru Gobind Singh but he did not refer to the original texts, not even the available translated works (except Zafarnama). It very well reflects in his description of the battle scenes.

It seems rather strange that while he has relied upon Louis E. Fenech’s The Oxford Book of Sikh Studies to describe certain events like Prithi Chand’s actions against the Gurus and Zafarnama but did not refer to his major work, Martyrdom in the Sikh Tradition, which I am certain, would have helped him to fill some gaps in the present work.

Though I fail to understand the recent obsession with religious history and “mytho-fiction”, that too, in the form of popular literature, yet I think it can be regarded as a novel way to introduce the young generation to one’s culture, history and religion. The Sacred Sword by Sengupta fulfils this purpose in the present hyper-sensitive, overemotional postmodernist world.

Kulbir Kaur teaches sociology at Shyama Prasad Mukherji College, Delhi University