CHAPTER 2
7 POH - The Night of Betrayal and Separation
In December 1704, a dark chapter of betrayal, sacrifice, and separation unfolded in Sikh history. Guru Gobind Singh Ji, after enduring a prolonged siege at Anandpur Sahib, was forced to leave the fortress in the dead of night, under promises of safe passage that were soon broken by the Mughal forces and their allies. As the Guru and his family embarked on a perilous journey, they were ambushed near Shahi Tibbi, and the ensuing chaos led to the tragic division of the family.
The retreating Sikhs, including the Guru’s wife, his young sons, and his beloved followers, faced immense trials. As they crossed the treacherous Sarsa River, their path was blocked by raging waters, a storm, and the relentless pursuit of enemy forces. In this moment of deep sorrow, the Guru’s family was scattered, never to reunite again.
The Night of 7 Poh (December 21, 1704), as it is known in Sikh history, not only marks a profound loss but also the enduring spirit of courage, faith, and resilience. This poetic series is a tribute to the legacy of those who sacrificed everything for their faith and their Guru.
‘neath the stars, the caravan moves.
Silently they traverse,
towards the ‘morrows, veiled and vast.
Ah! the pious pure Kiratpur,
the land of their patriarchs,
a place to behold and revere.
…
To rest and pause, but alas!
At last, the banks of Sarsa,
its tempest, unrestrained, unreined.
Enemy at heels and enemy ahead,
and still, the Asa Ki Vaar resonates,
steadying them in that storm-born dawn.
…
The pack of hungry wolves.
The lions guard the Light
as he sings the lauds at daybreak.
The swarm of enemies
torn apart bravely
by the beloved folks of Master.
…
Sarsa roars wildly.
Lamenting in pain and anger,
wrathfully swallowing everything.
Further,
towards the gushing river,
the enemy ensnares the bravehearts.
…
The ambushed entourage splits.
Sarsa slices the family,
the beacons separated, isolated.
Amidst the flood and swords,
The Tenth Master watches
the matrons and cubs drifting away.
…
The universe is drifting away.
Resolute, the Master marches on,
the footfalls of Neela taming Sarsa.
Sikhs follow him,
not hundreds, not thousands,
but handful, for they are all who remain.
…
The universe is drifting away.
The youngest cubs cling
to the mother Lioness.
The whipping, lashing currents,
whisk them away,
farther away from the clan.
…
The universe is drifting away.
Flooded furious waters
and lashing swords.
The matrons are swept,
away from the battlefield,
their eyes searching their brood.
…
Sarsa grieves.
The tears cannot wash
the crimson tinge of waters.
Three trails are lit,
ablaze by the beacons treading,
Chamkaur, Chann Kumma Mashki, Delhi.
…
The fortress of Chamkaur brings relief.
The vespers bring solace,
such, the comfort of Thy word.
The Tenth Light adores,
the loyal, the steadfast men,
the seeds of his Khalsa tribe.
…
The dawn hesitates.
This is the land
where the price will be paid.
But the Master is content,
not ruffled by sorrow,
nor anxious for tomorrow.
...
The lands are unknown.
Dense, dark eventide,
and not a kinsmen in sight.
Battered by winds and waters,
Ma Gujri and two fledgling sparks,
knock at Chann Kumma Mashki.
Welfare unto all
Rab rakha
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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.