Baba Deep Singh Final Seva to Harmandir Sahib

Dadi: "Beta, what does it mean to truly love something with all your heart?"

Guddu: "To care about it more than anything else, Dadi?"

Dadi: "Yes. And today I will tell you about a warrior whose love for his sacred place was so great that even death could not stop him from reaching it."

Guddu: "That sounds impossible, Dadi!"

Dadi: "It is one of the most remarkable stories in Sikh history, beta. Baba Deep Singh was born in 1682 in Punjab. When he was eighteen years old, he traveled to Anandpur Sahib and met Guru Gobind Singh himself."

Guddu: "He met the Guru!"

Dadi: "Yes, and from that moment, his life was dedicated to service. He was baptized into the Khalsa and learned everything from the Guru - scripture, swordsmanship, riding, and the warrior spirit. He became the head of a special order of Khalsa warriors."

Guddu: "Was he a good fighter?"

Dadi: "One of the greatest, beta. But our story happens when Baba Deep Singh was seventy-five years old."

Guddu: "Seventy-five! That is so old for a warrior!"

Dadi: "Wait until you hear what he did. In 1757, the Afghan invaders under Ahmad Shah Durrani attacked Punjab. They did something unforgivable - they destroyed the Harmandir Sahib, the Golden Temple, the holiest shrine of the Sikhs. They filled its sacred pool with garbage and animal remains. They closed it to all Sikhs."

Guddu: "That is terrible!"

Dadi: "When Baba Deep Singh heard this news at Damdama Sahib, his heart burned with grief and determination. He made a sacred vow: "I will liberate Harmandir Sahib from these invaders. And if my head should leave my body, may it fall at the Darbar Sahib itself.""

Guddu: "He promised his head would reach the temple?"

Dadi: "Yes, beta. He drew a line on the ground with his sword and asked only those willing to die to cross it. Every single warrior crossed without hesitation."

Guddu: "How many joined him?"

Dadi: "He started with five hundred. As he marched through village after village, thousands more joined - farmers, shopkeepers, ordinary people who loved their sacred place. By the time they neared Amritsar, there were five thousand Sikhs, armed only with swords, spears, and axes."

Guddu: "What about the enemy?"

Dadi: "Twenty thousand trained Afghan soldiers with cannons, elephants, and muskets waited for them. The odds were impossible."

Guddu: "Four to one!"

Dadi: "Yet Baba Deep Singh and his warriors attacked. Though seventy-five years old, he fought with the strength of a young lion. They were making progress when enemy reinforcements arrived. The fighting became desperate."

Guddu: "What happened to Baba Deep Singh?"

Dadi: "He was dueling Jamal Shah, one of the Afghan commanders. In the fierce combat, Jamal Shah struck a terrible blow to Baba Deep Singh's neck - a mortal wound. The great warrior fell."

Guddu: "He died?"

Dadi: "A Sikh nearby cried out, "Baba ji! You had promised to reach the Parkarma of Harmandir Sahib!""

Guddu: "His vow!"

Dadi: "At those words, something extraordinary happened. Divine energy seemed to flow through Baba Deep Singh. He rose. With one hand supporting his wounded head, and the other wielding his great Khanda sword, he continued fighting!"

Guddu: "But how is that possible?"

Dadi: "The sight was so terrifying that Afghan soldiers began fleeing in panic. This warrior, who should have been dead, was cutting through their ranks with unstoppable fury. Step by step, he advanced toward his beloved Golden Temple."

Guddu: "Did he make it?"

Dadi: "He did, beta. Baba Deep Singh fought all the way to the edge of the sacred pool, the Parkarma of Harmandir Sahib. There, having fulfilled his sacred vow, his body finally gave in to his wounds. He attained martyrdom at the very place he had promised to reach."

Guddu: "He kept his promise!"

Dadi: "The spot where he fell is marked to this day with a marble tile at the Golden Temple. Pilgrims still place flowers there and pay their respects. His great sword is preserved at the Akal Takhat."

Guddu: "What happened after?"

Dadi: "The Sikhs, inspired by his sacrifice, eventually drove out the invaders. Within a year, they recaptured Amritsar and began rebuilding the Golden Temple. Baba Deep Singh's martyrdom had lit a fire that could not be extinguished."

Guddu: "What does this teach us, Dadi?"

Dadi: "Many things, beta. First, that age is no excuse for giving up on what you believe in. A seventy-five-year-old led that charge! Second, that a promise made from the heart must be kept, even at the cost of life. Third, that love for the sacred - whether it is a place, an idea, or a principle - can give us strength beyond what seems possible."

Guddu: "I cannot imagine fighting with such wounds."

Dadi: "No ordinary person can, beta. But when love fills your heart completely, when your purpose is absolutely clear, the body becomes secondary. Baba Deep Singh's spirit was stronger than his flesh. His love for Harmandir Sahib carried him forward when his body had every reason to fall."

Guddu: "Do people remember him today?"

Dadi: "Every Sikh knows his name. Every year, on the anniversary of his martyrdom, special prayers are held. His sacrifice reminds us that some things are worth more than life itself - our faith, our sacred places, our honor, and our promises."

Guddu: "I will remember Baba Deep Singh, Dadi."

Dadi: "Remember not just his story, beta, but his spirit. Whatever you do in life, do it with that complete dedication. Your head may never need to leave your body for a cause - but your heart can be just as fully committed to whatever sacred purpose you choose."