Punjabi Graphics and Punjabi Photos : 6/3/12

Bhai Mati Das Ji – the Victory of Love

Each story has its beginning. Not every story has been written by the spring wind,
and yet they must be told lest committed wrongs be consigned to oblivion. This story
begins in the small village of Karialā in Jihlam.

In this village lived a Brāhmaṇ who had been richly blessed by VAHEGURŪ JĪ, for
HE had given him such a pious and noble personality that he was almost softly
touched by the aura of holiness. So the Brāhmaṇ, whose name was Mahātmā Gautma
Dās, was loved and revered by Hindūs and Muslims alike. Mahātmā Gautma Dās
was the father of Bhāī Pagrā, a man whose body and strength resembled those of a
giant. Bhāī Praga lived during the time of Gurū Hargobind Jī, and as he liked what
the Gurū and Sikhism taught, he committed himself to both. Bhāī Pagrā's deep
religiosity quickly made him become a true Sikh. He fought bravely and heroically in
Gurū Hargobind's battles which the Gurū was forced to fight against dark powers
that would not let the Sikhs live freely and autonomously.

Life had bestowed many riches on Bhāī Pagrā, as his wife had born him four sons:
Bhāī Matī Dās Jī, Bhāī Satī Dās Jī, Bhāī Jatī Dās Jī and Bhāī Sakhī Dās Jī. Heaven knew
that providence had something terrible in store for Bhāī Matī Dās Jī and Bhāī Satī Dās
Jī, but the heavenly bodies, mourning already, had to remain silent. When Bhāī Matī
Dās J reached manhood, he had grown as tall and strong as his father. And just as the
father had served Gurū Hargobind Jī faithfully, the son now served Gurū Teg
Bahādar Jī. And the Gurū soon made him his Dīvān, as he was loyally devoted to the
Gurū and always acted in accordance with his faith. This was a great mark of
confidence, because as Dīvān his task was to administer the Darbār's income and
expenditures.

The era of the Sikh Gurūs was overclouded by the terrible and cruel reign of Śāh
Auraṅzeb, who had set himself the aim of making all those living in his realm confess
to Islām. But everyone's eyes love differently, and so many could not and would not
be forcibly converted to Islām. And as Auraṅzeb was not the kind of man to tolerate
anything else but what he wanted, he had the plough of hatred mounted by
corrupted hands and made appalled and frightened men and women suffer a terrible
death under its sharp blades.
There came the day when by Auraṅzeb's order Gurū Teg Bahādar Jī, who had
worked so much for the Hindūs' right to remain true to their faith, was arrested and
thrown into prison to be executed. But his three companions, the two brothers Bhāī
Matī Dās Jī and Bhāī Satī Dās Jī and Bhāī Diālā Jī, shared his fate. The Kāzī´s, Muslim
judges, had strayed from the way of law and had devised a devilish plan: In order to
win Gurū Teg Bahādar Jī for Islām, his three companions were to be cruelly tortured
to death before his eyes. Then, the Kāzī´s hoped, the Gurū, shivering with fear,
would convert to Islām to save his own life. The first the Kāzīs chose was Bhāī Matī Dās Jī, who lay in chains in a dungeon that
admitted neither the birds's sweet chirping nor the least ray of golden sunshine.
Heavily guarded and in chains, as if the Kāzīs still were afraid of the gigantic Sikh,
he was led to the Cāndnī Cauṅk. How quiet he was, this man of GOD. He trod his
heavy way with light steps. His face was shining, as if his eyes already saw
something that is not of this world. Some of the Kāzīs accompanying Bhāī Matī Dās Jī
seemed to be talking to him, but as he was already set free from this world and knew
that VAHEGURŪ JĪ was waiting for him, he did not hear them and remained silent.
A huge crowd had gathered on the Cāndnī Cauṅk to attend his execution. Those who
loved and revered him were not ashamed of their tears, as they knew what a
gruesome sort of execution was to take place in front of their eyes.
When Bhāī Matī Dās Jī had reached the place of execution arranged for him, the
supreme Kāzī stepped up to him and asked him loudly, so that everybody could hear
him:
„Brave young man, my brother, embrace Islām and you will be free. Consider well
what this means for you. The very next moment your chains will fall off and you will
be free in this world and in the next. Your imminent execution will seem like a bad
dream. Brother, my brother, you will belong to the ruling class and hold high office.
Wealth, peace and pleasure will be waiting for you wherever you go. And when you
die, the prophet Mohammed will receive you among the faithful and take you to
paradise. There will be streams of milk and honey and many delicacies and the most
beautiful women will surround you. You will be happy forever.“ The Kāzīs voice
had been growing steadily louder up to now, and now it almost cracked. „But if you
insist on your stubbornness, if you do not appreciate the delights and comforts
offered to you, we will torture you to death in a way never seen before. We will saw
you in two. Therefore be prudent and make the right choice.“
The Kāzī fell silent, gasping for breath, because hatred saps one's strength and wears
out itself. The crowd was silent with tension and terror. Even the wind held its
breath. What decision would Bhāī Matī Dās Jī make?
Bhāī Matī Dās Jī's heart was not set on delights gained through poisoning of the
spirit. And he knew well that eternal life is not made for man, not even in paradise,
as without death life loses its meaning. And so he answered:
„Why are you wasting your time and your breath? What do I want with your
heaven, your delights and your women? My happiness is in my faith alone. My faith
is what I want, for it lets me love without constraint. I am free, so free that I do not
surrender anything of myself when I die for my GOD.“
A corrupted heart cannot achieve anything, and as he did not understand the
meaning of what he had heard, the Kāzīs said:
„Well then, it will happen as you wish.“ He hesitated, as if he still expected a change
of mind from Bhāī Matī Dās Jī. But as nothing happened, he carried on: „If you have
a last wish before you die, speak now.“
„Yes, I have a last wish. Position me so I can see my beloved Gurū until my last
breath. “ His wish was fulfilled, and the flat wooden boards he was put in between were
positioned in the direction of Gurū Teg Bahādar Jī. To each side of the boards a
sturdy crutch had been fixed, into which the executioner's assistants, cloddish
Paṭhān, now forced Bhāī Matī Dās Jī's arms to tie him up. The brute men did not feel
that guilt was talking to them with a sigh and would follow them from now on
wherever they would go. There is a sort of guilt that will never die away.
Bhāī Matī Dās Jī looked at his Gurū for the last time. They did not speak a word, but
the glances of two pairs of eyes flowed into each other. A force that made all fear of a
cruel death impossible spun an invisible thread between Gurū Teg Bahādar Jī and
Bhāī Matī Dās Jī, and this force was love. This thread could not be broken even as the
Paṭhāns standing behind and in front of Bhāī Matī Dās Jī applied the saw to his head
to begin their bestial work. They moved the saw to and fro, and with a screeching
sound the saw made its way into his head, cracking his skullcap. And what did Bhāī
Matī Dās Jī do while this inhuman evil was happening to him? His face did not show
any pain and he did not cry out but had begun to quietly and steadfastly recite Jap(u)
Jī . When it fell from his lips as the Paṭhāns carried on sawing without mercy, the
wind took up Jap(u) Jī and carried it into the hearts of those who were open to it.
After the Paṭhāns had sawed Bhāī Matī Dās Jī's head in two, they parted his neck and
carried on sawing through his breast and his back, down his huge body, without
once flinching from their shameful deed. Bhāī Matī Dās Jī's blood ran in streams,
flowing down the wooden boards holding him like water that flows over a rock into
an abyss. It ran onto the ground, writing a writ of guilt into the sand that nobody
read.

What can one say? No words will ever strike the right note for such unjust suffering.
A silent bow to the pain and this superhuman strength? This also will not suffice.
And in addition there is a sorrow that will never cease, for Bhāī Matī Dās Jī's death at
the Cāndnī Cauṅk on November 8, 1675 put an end to his suffering, but Sikhs will
never cease to feel the resulting pain. His unspeakable pain lives on in their hearts
until today.
But Bhāī Matī Dās Jī has not died in vain, for he is an eternal model for all Sikhs that
has shown them how to excel themselves for their faith. What he took upon himself
was not a sacrifice for VAHEGURŪ JĪ. One cannot sacrifice anything to HIM, but
only devote oneself to HIM all the time for HIS greatest reward: Love. And that is the
victory of love.

Elisabeth Meru
München, Germany
11. Mai 2012