Lucky Jalandar

I guess gifts are always coming to you from unexpected places, unknown people. In times when the universe somehow knows you need something before you do. Maybe you feel it too, but the feeling hasn't hit yet, and then you find yourself in a place where you can finally articulate it.

Even before I start writing this, I have goosebumps. This is from October of last year, a story I get to share with people I absolutely love, in a place I absolutely love, at a time when the mathematical possibility of any of it happening was just so small.

I find myself on a flight from Jaipur to Amritsar. I've just flown back to India after a month and a half of relentless travel across Europe and the UK, then a week of work in Jaipur. My mind and body are running on fumes, so much has moved at work and inside me, and life has been showing up in ways I could never imagine. And then, Amritsar.

I land and meet three of my favorite humans at this tiny airport: Dwija, Abhimanyu, and Abroo. They've had a year, maybe two, after an inhumanly difficult and powerful fight with cancer and the radiation that followed. Just seeing the three of them standing there together, whole, is not something I take lightly. Dwija and I, in a conversation a few weeks before, had decided to just randomly meet in Amritsar. Amritsar wasn't part of anyone's original plan. They had to go to Delhi. I was in the UK. I said, let's just figure out a date and somehow things will work out. And here we are.

Dwija has always loved going to Amritsar with Abhimanyu, and they do this as often as they can. It is the holiest city for Sikhs, home to Harmandir Sahib, the Golden Temple. I'd been once before, with my family back in 2017, and just the time spent inside that temple was profound. The history of it. The way this community takes care of its people. It stays with you. If you haven't yet been, I would love for you to go.

We reach the hotel, and the agenda is simple. We want to go to the temple and spend some time there. We want to be grateful for all the good things that have come into our lives. We want to be grateful for all the ways the universe has supported us through the challenging times. And we want to sit inside all the energy that shows up when you're there.

And that's what we do. We have a beautiful time at the temple. Abroo is on my shoulders, asking questions, and everybody around us is curious about this child. We sit next to the sarovar, the pond in the middle, where Abroo watches the koi fish he is such a big fan of, following their orange and gold through the water. The shabad floats over everything, that beautiful music, as the sun sets and the Golden Temple shines. We receive karah prasad, the offering made during the prayers.

Our hope was to stay for langar, the meal from the community kitchen that feeds everyone who comes, free, always. All of us wanted it. But the energies are dipping, and Abhimanyu isn't feeling well, so we head back so he can rest. Dwija, excellent researcher that she is, finds the best rated dhaba in Amritsar instead. We only have this one evening. We want to experience not just the emotional and spiritual side of being here, but also the magic in the food this city is famous for.

A rickshaw driver takes Dwija, Abroo, and me there in the wildest possible way, through the tiniest lanes you can imagine. We wait. The food arrives. It is terrible. Too spicy for Abroo. Too spicy for Dwija, who gets a bad bout of cough and can barely eat. I'm eating it anyway and feeling miserable, because the food is just terrible. We came all this way and we just wanted good food. And I feel a little sad that we couldn't go to the langar. But I think, you know what, sometimes you get some things and other times you don't, and that's okay. Then Abroo wants gulab jamun, and right next to the restaurant is a small shop, and we finally have some really good gulab jamun, and we are very happy about it.

Now Dwija has one more thing on her list for the evening. She wants to get a kada for Abroo, the steel bangle that Sikhs wear on the wrist. A celebration, a symbol, a small circle connecting you with something larger. That's the easiest way I can put it.

Most of the market is closed at this point. We ask a few people where we could find one, and they say, if you just walk in these directions, you will eventually reach the Golden Temple again, and there you'll find shops. So Abroo is back on my shoulders, and Dwija and Abroo and I are now walking through these lanes, after lanes, after lanes, looking for a kada. It's getting colder. We are tired, our dinner mostly uneaten behind us, and still we walk.

At some point we take a turn, and we reach another tiny gurudwara. Abroo is on my shoulders asking questions and we're answering them, Dwija walking beside us. I ask a man there, hey, we're looking for a kada, do you know if we can buy one here, is there a shop open in this gurudwara?

He says, no, we don't have bangles for sale here.

And then he looks at me up and down. He looks at Dwija. He says, why don't you wait here for a second? Let me get you some prasad.

And I'm like, what? How? How did he know? He just knew, and he doesn't give us an opportunity to say no. He brings us in, and in two small bowls made out of dried leaves, he gets us prasad. Dwija is looking at me and I'm looking at him and I'm like, wait, what just happened here? I came here to ask a question about a kada, and here I am with langar in my hands. What is going on?

In that moment it felt like time just stopped. I didn't know if the food would be spicy, or what might happen with the food at all. Then I take a bite, and I tell her, Dwija, this is just the right amount of salt and spice, it will not irritate your throat, why don't you try it.

And after this long walk, we finally get to eat the langar. Abroo sits down on a parked scooty, and Dwija and I are feeding him, and we are feeding ourselves, and in that moment I'm like, wait, what is happening? This is just magical. What is literally going on? And as I'm thinking this, he gets us more rotis. He gets us more dal. And then he gets us some kheer.

At this point my eyes are moist, the goosebumps are all back, and I just cannot figure out what is going on. It felt like the universe, in many ways, wanted us to come here to have this prasad. All of it felt like it was written just for us, like the script of a movie we didn't know we were in.

Abroo is having fun eating. So are we. Our tummies are now full, and our hearts are now full. And then he comes back with two bowls of water, so that we could drink.

I ask him, thank you, what is your name?

He looks at me and he smiles and he says, my name is Lucky. Lucky Jalandhar.

And in that moment I'm like, what is going on here. A beautiful human called Lucky spots us, somehow, through our eyes. Figures out that maybe we are hungry, or maybe, I don't know, I don't know what he saw in us. He feeds us the langar. He makes us lucky that day. And he expects nothing. When I fold my hands to thank him, he says, what are you doing, this is the least I can do, I'm so glad you came. At this point we hadn't even gone into the gurudwara. He spotted us outside and got us the food right where we were. And I just start crying. I feel so lucky that the universe sent this wonderful human to make us feel lucky, and all the food we couldn't have before, all of it, coming to us now in these beautiful, mesmerizing ways.

We go into the gurudwara, we make a tiny donation, we come back out. And with goosebumps, with hearts full and tummies full, we start walking, and this time it's Lucky who guides us to the tiny shop where we finally get the kada for Abroo. We came looking for a kada, a way to memorialize this day, a memory Abroo could carry with him on his wrist. Instead, we found a memory of a different kind, a moment of magic that has changed us, one that we carry going forward and will continue to carry for the rest of our lives.

We get onto another rickshaw and start our journey back. Dwija is in front of me, Abroo sitting in her lap, and I just cannot mathematically compute the possibilities of what happened today. For us to be here, on this day, when I was in the middle of all these trips and they were traveling for something else altogether, and yet here we are. It is impossible to imagine how many forces in nature came together for this. For us not to be able to have langar, and then, eventually, to have it anyway.

It blows my mind that gifts are always coming to you from unexpected places and unknown people.

It doesn't matter what your relationship with the universe may be. If you notice, even for a second, how beautiful it is for such a thing to happen, you'll see that so many wonderful things continue to happen in our daily lives that we probably don't even register, because we're looking at our phones, too busy to notice.

It took me back to a thought that has come to me many times before. There is so much magic in the everyday that we completely forget. If we just open our eyes, away from the walls we create for ourselves and the tiny bubbles we live in, we will keep seeing more of it. How can this universe not be a wonderful place, when such magic is happening all around us every single day? The tiny acts of kindness. The amount of love you see. A random dog brushing against you to show how comfortable they feel next to you. A cat choosing to sit with you instead of everyone else. A stranger giving you space. A stranger giving you food.

I will forever remember that day for how beautifully the universe just gave us gifts. I am so grateful for everything I have experienced, and for all the wonderful things still to come. Dear universe, I love you. And if you are reading this, I am sending you all of this love and magic. I hope you get to notice the things that are already happening for you.

Love,
Rishi