From jamesjs@unixg.ubc.ca Sat Mar 27 16:35:51 1999
Newsgroups: alt.meditation.shabda
Subject: (3/7) Jaimal Singh - A Great Saint
From: jamesjs@unixg.ubc.ca (James Shannon)
Date: 28 Mar 1999 00:35:51 GMT




                              A Great Saint
                         
                 BABA JAIMAL SINGH: HIS LIFE AND TEACHINGS   
                                          
                                    by

                            Sant Kirpal Singh Ji
                              
                               [Part 3 of 7]
                                            
                                 


THE CONSUMMATION
 
   Barely ten days had elapsed before Jaimal Singh, passing
through Hapur and the holy town of Mathura, arrived at the
gates of Agra. It is a city famous since the days of the great
Moghuls; and many a tourist from far and near, from beyond
the Atlantic and the Pacific, has had glimpses of its
magnificent Taj and other historic monuments as well as
its sultry heat and dusty streets. But the youth from the
Punjab had not come to view its historic splendor; he had
no flair for its gorgeous and massive mausoieums, forts and
palaces built by Akbar and his illustrious successors.

What he sought was not the reminiscences of time but the
enlivening breath of the Eternal. Instead of visiting the
Taj he explored the local shrines and temples in search of
the boon that had been promised him.

  But try as he might, his explorations seemed to lead
nowhere. He could find no clue to the man he sought.
Were his hopes baseless? Was the promise given him at
Peshawar and confirmed in the heart of a forest on the
banks of the sacred Ganges only a hoax and a delusion?
Perhaps there had been error? Perhaps he was not yet ripe
for the gift? Many thoughts crowded Jaimal Singh's mind
as he sat contemplating on the banks of the Jamuna one
morning after having bathed in its waters. While he sat
this morning, two men approached him, discussing personal
matters. At first he took scant notice of them for many
came daily for a dip in the sacred river. But then a word
shot through his ears and he was all attention. Yes, they
were talking of a "Swami Ji," a great sage, who often
discoursed on the Sikh scriptures at his home to a small
audience. Jaimal Singh was on his feet. He accosted the
strangers, inquired of them about the great man of whom
they spoke and begged to be conducted to his dwelling.
 
   As soon as the two devotees had finished bathing, they
set out with Jaimal Singh for Punni Gali where lived the
great Swami Ji. When the three reached their destination,
the Master was speaking on the Jap Ji, expounding its
profound meaning and unearthing the spiritual treasures
hidden in its lyrical ecstacy. There were only a few
listeners and Jaimal Singh slipped quietly into a corner.
He heard the discourse with rapt attention, drinking in
every word that fell from the lips of the Saint.
 
   When the morning assembly was over, Swami Ji welcomed
his new visitor and asked him what he wanted.
 
   "I am in search of the gift of Naam and a Saint who
can bestow its blessing upon me," replied Jaimal Singh.
"I heard of your greatness and have hastened to your
door."
 
   "I am afraid you will find no Saint here," smiled the
radiant Swami Ji. "I am only a mere servant of the Saints.
Even the great Nanak regarded himself as no Saint; then
how can a mere nothing like myself be of any consequence?"

He then welcomed Jaimal once more, assuring him that he
could stay there as long as he pleased, for all were free
to share the bounty of the Sahib, the Lord above.
 
   Later that day Swami Ji spoke to Jaimal Singh again.
Pleased with his deep immersion in the Granth Sahib, he
asked him to recite one of his favorite hymns. The youth
began melodiously to chant the piece beginning:
          
          
           Karam hovae Satguru milae
           Sewa Surat Shabd chit lae
   
    By the grace of God one can meet a Master
    who puts him on the service of Surat Shabd
    Yoga.
                                           RAG MAGH M.3


The recitation was moving. It was clear that the speaker
had himself felt with deep intensity what he chanted. When
it was over, Swami Ji asked him if he understood the full
meaning of the verses he had just rendered.
 
  "O Holy One!" came the answer, "if I had understood
their true import, why then should I wander lost in this
fashion?" And as he spoke these words and recalled his
long journeys and the many vicissitudes he had, Jaimal
Singh's eyes brimmed with tears and silently overflowed.
 
   Swami Ji placed his hand lovingly on the youth's back
and reassured him. "Be of good cheer," he said. "We are
old comrades and there is no cause for worry." Then taking
up the hymn that had been just recited, he expounded its
spiritual meaning at length, weaving with subtlety the
threads of personal effort and divine grace essential for
the salvation of the human soul.

   Next morning Swami Ji resumed his discourse on the
Jap Ji. When it was over, he turned toward Jaimal Singh
and suggested, "If you have any doubts or questions, why
not clarify them now? Speak your mind fully. I am only
a humble servant of the Lord, and one may say anything
to a servant - anything - high or low; don't be afraid,
but speak frankly. I would be only too happy to be of
some assistance to you for I regard this as my service
to my Guru."
 
   Later that afternoon Swami Ji once again requested
Jaimal to recite a hymn from the Sikh scriptures, and the
Sikh youth began chanting:
           
           
            Utpat, Parlae, Shabde hovae
            Shabde he phir opat hovae
   
    Creation and dissolution is caused by Shabd and
    the creation again comes into being by Shabd.
                                       
                                        RAG MAGH M.3


The afternoon talk centered around this hymn, and the
Master took up at length the theme of Shabd or Naam,
answering one after another Jaimal Singh's as yet unvoiced
questions on the subject. He showed how the Word was the
primal cause of creation as well as of its dissolution; how
it was at once the agent of the Almighty Absolute and itself
the Absolute. Without its power nothing was created, and
only through contacting it could one reach back to one's
heavenly home.
 
   When all had departed and Jaimal Singh was left alone
with Swami Ji, he drew closer and began to question the
Saint on the way to salvation. He was convinced that the
Agra sage was a true Master, but the fact that he was not
a Sikh and smoked the hookah caused him some uneasiness.
But as Swami Ji took up the subject of salvation and
began revealing how Shabd was the only means of mukti,
how its contact could be given only by a Puran Sant, a
perfect Master, how man without it could never fully
escape the meshes of Maya, and how its practice and
mastery lay within the reach of all regardless of their
differences of sect and custom, Jaimal's doubts were
dissipated and he begged to be initiated. Swami Ji then
began to instruct him into the theory and practice of Surat
Shabd Yoga, and when the instructions were over, asking the
youth of seventeen to sit down for meditation, he left the
room.

   As soon as Jaimal Singh sat down for meditation, he
got lost in samadhi. The night came and passed away, the
day broke, but he continued motionless, lost in the inner
bliss he had discovered. Another day saw itself swallowed
by the night, and the night saw itself replaced by another
day, and yet the youth sat lost to the world around him.

When some forty-eight hours had thus gone by, Swami Ji
asked some of the disciples if they knew where the visitor
from the Punjab had disappeared. "We saw him two days
ago at the Satsang," they said, "but we have not seen him
since." Swami Ji smiled and proceeded straight to the little
room where he had left his latest disciple and which none
had entered for two days. He placed his hand on Jaimal
Singh's head, and when the later's soul returned to normal
physical consciousness and he opened his eyes, he saw his
Guru beaming at him."Do you, my boy, still doubt if your
Master be a true Sikh or not?" he asked with a twinkle in
his eye. The lad wished to fall at his feet but the long spell
of samadhi had left his joints numb and still. Swami Ji
suggested that he rub his legs, and when Jaimal could move,
he conducted him outside. There he gave him a drink of milk
with his own hands, and gazing at him fondly, he said: "You
too shall do one day the work I carry on now. Our path is
not concerned with outer forms and rituals and each of us
must live by the best traditions of the community in which
the Lord has been pleased to place us."

He then began commending the teachings of Nanak and the Sikh
Gurus and said that those who were their followers needed
little instruction. "Always abide by the injunctions of the
Granth Sahib," he continued.

"Abstain from meat and drink. Never depend for your
sustenance on others but live by the labor of your own
hands. Whatever you earn share freely with the needy and
remember to serve the holy and the poor. And above all
never be proud of your own good deeds or critical of the
actions of others, but know yourself to be in error, and
never step outside the virtue of inner humility."

   Jaimal Singh heard with reverent attention his Master's
advice and ever afterward tried to model himself on the
same. He devotedly attended the daily Satsang and assisted
in whatever manner lay within his reach. His past training
had disciplined him well for his spiritual sadhna, and he
would devote himself untiringly to Bhajan. Under Swami
Ji's guidance and with his phenomenal inner progress,
new mysteries were daily revealed to him, the mysteries
of which Nanak, Kabir and Tulsi had so ecstatically sung.
 
  In those days during the mid-fifties, Swami Ji did not
have a large following. He had not yet begun giving public
discourses, and confined his meetings to small private
audiences at his home in Punni Gali after having
discontinued his talks at the Mai Than Gurdwara. Seven or
eight of his disciples were especially devoted to him and
constantly sought his company and there was great affection
and harmony. Every morning the Master gave an inspiring
talk, displaying before his listeners' eyes the spiritual
treasures hidden in the Granth Sahib or the writings of
Kabir and other great Saints. After the morning Satsang
those present sat down for their meals. The food was
cooked by Swami Ji's wife, Srimati Narain Devi, who
came subsequently to be addressed as Radha Ji as a mark
of public respect and adoration; while Swami Ji personally
served the food to all with loving attention to each. In the
afternoons and evenings there would often be informal
conversations and discussions and at times regular
discourses.
 
   A month and a half passed by in this way. Jaimal Singh
was happy to live at the feet of his benevolent Master. It
was the year 1856, and a regiment of Indian sepoys, including
several Sikhs, was about this time stationed a Agra. At the
instance of Swami Ji, Jaimal Singh joined up as a recruit.
He would attend his morning parade and duties over, hasten
to his Guru's door. There he would attend the Satsang, hear
Swami Ji, sit for meditation and return to his quarters in
the cantonment at night. His army colleagues would often ask
him where he spent much of his time. When he told them of
the greatness of Swami Ji, some of his Sikh friends wished
to meet the illustrious Saint, and one day accompanied by
six of them Jaimal Singh set forth for Punni Gali.
 
   Swami Ji was discoursing on some hymn from the Granth
Sahib when the group from the cantonment arrived.  Chacha
Partap Singh good-humoredly remarked that the Punjab seemed
to dominate the Satsang that day. Swami Ji turned to him and
said: "The people of that land above all others have a right
to the spiritual riches of which I speak. Who can ever do
justice to the glory of Punjab that bore a soul like Nanak?
He above all taught us that freedom does not lie in idol-
worship or in rituals, and while we in these parts are still
lost in ceremony and idolatry, insensitive to the message of
Kabir and Nanak, the souls of Punjab are free from such evils
and need only a spark to set them ablaze. Mark my words for
they are worth remembering: the gift bestowed upon me by the
Lord shall flower one day on the plains of the Punjab."

Then turning to his visitors, he welcomed them, entertained
them as best as he could, bade their leader Jaimal Singh to
be regular in his army duties, and when the time came for
their departure, wished thern farewell.
 
   The light army duties left Jaimal Singh ample time for
meditation. If he had no night duty, he would get up at
2 A.M., bathe, and sit down for meditation. During the
day, as soon as the parade and other normal duties were
over, he would engage himself in like manner or hasten
to the home of Swami Ji. He was known for not wasting
a single moment on pastimes popular among his fellow
soldiers. He visited Punni Gali with great regularity, and
often acted there as Swami Ji's pathi or reciter; and many
of his friends, because of his impact, became his Master's
disciples. Life was peaceful and happy and was bearing
steady fruit. But a day arrived when the regiment was
ordered to move from Agra. Heavy of heart, Jaimal Singh
met his Master and sadly related the news. "Oh Sir!" he
said, "how I yearn to enjoy the blessings of Satsang a
little longer." Swami Ji smiled and replied, "Well, let us
wait and watch for the Will of the Sahib." Next day fresh
orders arrived canceling the departure of the regiment.
 
   Jaimal Singh was making speedy inner headway. He
often told Swami Ji of his various spiritual experiences
and his Guru was pleased with his progress. Once when he
told him of his ready access to Dasam Dwar (the Tenth
Gate - the third major stage of the mystic soul) but his
inability to penetrate beyond it, Swami Ji exclaimed: "Ah!
That is quite understandable. We have worked at this
spiritual exploration together before, and in your last
life you mastered up to the third stage. Hence your ease
in progressing thus far and your subsequent difficulty."
He however reassured his young disciple and encouraged
him to keep up his effort.
 
   When the latter one day reported still higher ascent,
Swami Ji was mightily pleased and declared
enthusiastically: "Continue in this fashion and you will
soon be ready to help other souls to salvation. You have
been born to help mankind, and between you and me is no
real difference."
 
   "I am not worthy of such honor. Oh, let me be humbly
at your feet, far from the fangs of pride."
 
   "Fear not, a true Saint can never be proud."
 
   "Oh Sir, keep me at your feet, the servant of the
servants of Saints. That is all I ask."
 
   "You shall indeed have a Saint's service: saving
humanity, bringing it to truth and spiritual liberation.
What is the giving away of a million cows to the saving of
a single soul?"
 
   "You may do as you judge best, but as for myself I
know only too well my worthlessness and limitations."
 
   The six months for which the regiment's departure was
postponed were over and Jaimal Singh had to go. He took
leave for the last three days and spent them in the
company of his Master. When at last the time for bidding
farewell drew near, Jaimal Singh could bear it no longer.
 
   "My heart breaks at the thought of parting. If you so
will, I can have my name struck from the army rolls."
 
   But Swami Ji would not hear of such a thing: "Build
your love on the Shabd within. That is your real Guru and
is ever at your side. All else is transient and must be
left behind. You must earn your living for if you depend
on the labor of others, you must pay for it with your
mental peace, and your understanding will be clouded. If
you have to work, then why leave the army?"

   Jaimal Singh had no choice but to bow before the
superior wisdom of his Master. At parting, Swami Ji spoke
of the nature of Sainthood and the conduct of Saints. He
related anecdotes of their great humility and, when bidding
farewell, said: "Your regiment is now leaving. If you ever
meet a true seeker, put him on the inner path, but remember
always that you are only a humble instrument of the Saints."

Tears filled the young soldier's eyes as he fell at the
feet of his Guru and bade him adieu.


THE SOLDIER SAINT
 
   From Agra the regiment moved to Delhi. Jaimal Singh,
deprived of his Master's company, began looking for some
spiritual seeker with whom he could associate. He soon
discovered one Baba Karam Singh, also in the army, who
was a great devotee of the Lord. He began visiting him
frequently and would sit at his quarters enjoying the
elder's company. When one day Baba Karam Singh asked
Jaimal Singh what attracted him to his place, he very
simply replied, "I come here because since my childhood I
have loved sitting at the feet of the lovers of the Lord."

Baba Karam Singh was delighted to find a fellow spirit so
young in years, and a lively discussion on Spirituality
ensued. It turned out that Baba Karam Singh, like Baba
Balak Singh of Hazro, mistook the pranic rhythm for the
principle of Naam sung of in the Granth Sahib. The young
soldier, who had not yet attained his majority, began with
great humility to correct his error. He quoted relevant
passages from the Sikh scriptures to show that the Divine
Shabda was the prime energy activating everything, even
prana, but was not to be identified with prana. He dwelt
on the fact that all great exponents of Sant Mat or the
Path of the Masters had clearly and unequivocally declared
that in our time pranayama and other such practices could
not bring inner emancipation. He then spoke of his great
teacher at Agra and of his inspiring teachings, and helped
Baba Karam Singh to get on to the right path to God.
 
   After the great Rebellion of 1857, the regiment in which
Jaimal Singh was employed was disbanded. He had not met
his family for a long time and proceeded straight home.
His mother's joy at seeing him again knew no bounds. But
he was not destined to be with her for long.

On receiving the news that a 24th Sikh Regiment had
been formed at Peshawar, he bade his family farewell and
proceeded to join it. After some time in the Northwest
Frontier Province the regiment was transferred in January
1858 to Ambala. In September of the following year it was
transferred to Sagar, a city on the banks of a large lake
in central India. By now Jaimal Singh's fellow soldiers
had got used to his rigorous spiritual discipline; but
during the days the regiment would be marching, they
were surprised to find him excavate a small dugout in
which he would then sit in a reclining posture, his back
resting against the earthy embankment, and pass the
entire night in meditation.
  
   While stationed at Sagar, Jaimal Singh one night
requested Swami Ji in meditation that the regiment be
transferred next to Agra so that he could have the benefit
of sitting at his holy feet. A man of God-realization can
work strange miracles, being at one with the Will of God;
and a Guru's love for a true disciple is so great that he
denies him nothing. (*3)  Jaimal Singh's prayer was granted;
and next morning he casually observed to Bhagwan Singh,
his mate and a devoted admirer, that as and when the
regiment would be transferred it would be moved to Agra.

(*3 What we cannot explain in terms of what we know, we
normally term as a "miracle." Thus the first witnesses of
locomotion looked upon what they saw as a wonder; yet today
hardly anyone would take it as such. In like manner, he who
has mastered the inner Science knows that what people take as
miracles are not miracles as such, but are based on the higher
laws of creation, accessible only to the scientists of the
Spirit who have explored the mysteries of the inner Path. See
in this connection the chapter, "The Law of Miracles," in
The Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramhansa Yogananda.)

On that occasion Bhagwan Singh took little notice of what
was said, but when the news of its next stationing was
received, the story of the prophetic soldier spread through
the regiment like wildfire.
 
   The orders for moving to Agra had not yet been received
when Jaimal Singh applied for annual leave. The leave was
granted but when he reported before departure, his superior
informed him that he had to rejoin, not at Sagar, but at
Agra. The sepoy was so overcome with the news that instead
of going home he went straight to Agra.

Swami Ji received him with great affection and Radha Ji
especially prepared halwa to mark the occasion. The great
Guru regarded him as a puran Gurmukh, a true disciple,
and recited to him some of the mystical poems he had
composed during Jaimal Singh's absence from Agra and
which were later collected by Rai Saligram Ji, another
noted and distingushed disciple, along with many of his
own compositions, in the volume entitled Sar Bachan.

One of the verses he read referred directly to his
disciple:
         

          Yeh dlaun hai dhur lok adhur ki
          Koyi pukre Sant sipahi
   
    This music streams from a transcendent plane
      within and is caught by a soldier Saint.
                           
                            SAR BACHAN, SHABD 9 (p 94)


Jaimal Singh made the most of his time with the Master.
He attended the Satsang regularly and often chanted the
verses on which Swami Ji later discoursed. Meanwhile the
24th Sikh Regiment moved into town, but he continued
to stay at Punni Gali for he still had some leave to his
credit. One night Swami Ji asked him to carry a number of
sheets and clothes and accompany him to a poor locality.
There he personally distributed to the needy according to
their wants the gifts he had brought for them. The
recipients were full of gratitude and enthusiastically
thanked and blessed the magnanimous stranger. But Swami Ji
was not the man to draw praise for himself even when it was
his rightful due. "Oh," he exclaimed to those who flocked
around him, "do not thus burden me with thanks. I am only
an agent of my generous Master. It is to him that all
credit is due."
 
   When the nocturnal mission was over, the great teacher
turned to his disciple and said, "Jaimal, my son, always
serve the poor in this way, never claiming anything as
your due."

  Jaimal Singh went back to duty when his annual holiday
was over. But he made it a point not to miss any opportunity
of visiting his Master. He would often arrive at Punni Gali
at noon and stay on till late in the evening. One day, lost
in Satsang and Bhajan, he forgot completely that he was on
duty at night. It was early in the morning that he reached
the army quarters and went straight to his mate.

  "Have you completed your duty?" asked Bhagwan Singh.
 
  "Why, was I on duty last night?" ventured Jaimal Singh.
 
  "Are you being funny? As if I didn't see you going out
dressed for duty last night!"
 
   Jaimal Singh made no further reply. He was musing on
the unfailing care of his Master and wondering what exactly
had happened. If he still had any doubts about the miracle,
they were soon dispelled. The Havildar above him, on meeting
him shortly after, also referred to his night duty and that
his attendance had been duly marked in the night register.
As soon as he could get away, he hastened to Punni Gali and
fell at his Master's feet. "How little we erring mortals
deserve the grace you shower on us!" he exclaimed, and
related the strange happenings of the preceding night.

   "I hope you have not spoken of them to any of your
army friends."
  
   "Sir, I was too dumbfounded to utter a word."
 
   "Excellent! Excellent! Now keep it to yourself. And
mark if any such thing ever happens in the future, remember
to restrain yourself and not make a public fuss about it."

   This miracle was to be repeated when a similar situation
arose not long after.
 
   The year and a half that the 24th Sikh Regiment spent
at Agra passed on like a happy dream. Before the regiment
departed, Jaimal Singh spent three days with Swami Ji. On
the last day when he had to bid farewell, he humbly fell
at his Master's feet. Swami Ji raised him from his feet,
pressed him fondly to himself, and observed, "There is no
difference between us whatsoever for we are alike permeated
with the power of Naam."
 
   From Agra the regiment proceeded to Peshawar as is the
wont in army life. The 24th Sikh Regiment kept moving from
one cantonment to another every two or three years. Among
various places at which it was stationed, the most important
were Rawalpindi, Abbotabad, Mianmir near Lahore, and Jhansi.
While at the last mentioned station, Jaimal Singh was
promoted to the rank of a Naik.
 
   In October, two years later, he was once again on his
way to Agra to spend the annual leave with his Guru.
Who can describe the beatitude to be experienced at the
feet of a Divine Teacher! The time slipped by and before
he could even realize it, Jaimal Singh's day of parting
arrived. He went to Swami Ji for blessings and to bid him
farewell. "This is going to be our last meeting," observed
the Master. "My mission on earth is ahnost over. I need
hardly repeat that I have cast you in my own mold and
you are of my very essence." 

When Chanda Singh, who was also at Punni Gali at that
time, heard that Swami Ji intended to leave the world in
a short while, he exclaimed, "What will become of us?" and
begged him to leave someone behind to carry on his work in
the Punjab. Swami Ji smiled and replied,  "Your prayers
have already been granted by the Almighty, and Jaimal,
whom I have already given authority for Initiation, has been
deputed for the task."

Then turning back to Jaimal, he said, "Put all seekers that
come to you on the path of Naam; but see that you steer
clear of sects and creeds. Ours is the path of Nanak and Kabir.
Whosoever is fired by spiritual zeal, whether of this faith
or of that, has a right to it. Carry on in all humility, and
whatever you do, do it as a servant of the Saints."

He then turned to Radha Ji and placing his hand on Jaimal's
back declared, "He is indeed our Gurmukh son," and taking a
saropa or headdress he lovingly bestowed it as a parting
gift to his apt and faithful disciple. This great love and
honor was too much for the humble Gurmukh and, overwhelmed,
his eyes were filled with tears. His heart was heavy as he
left, thinking of the approaching end of his Master's
earthly sojourn and the difficult burden that was being
placed on his shoulders.
 
   From Agra, Jaimal Singh returned to his regiment at
Jhansi. The rest of his story as a soldier is simply told.
It is unnecessary to enumerate the many places at which the
24th Sikh Regiment was stationed from time to time.

Whatever happened, wherever he went, Jaimal Singh let
nothing interrupt the routine of his spiritual sadhnas. Like
a lover in the frenzy of love, he was forever centered in
the joy of the inner life. Even when his regiment was in
action in the Northwestern Frontier during the Anglo-Afghan
War in 1879, he would leave his quarters at night, go into
the wilderness, dig a pit and, with his rifle tucked under
his knees, get lost in meditation. Enemy snipers would often
spot him, but seeing his Radiant figure make out that he
was no ordinary soldier but some great fakir, and leave
him untouched. At times when he arose from his sadhna, they
would even bow before him in reverence.
 
   As Jaimal Singh, who had been 18 when he had first
entered the army at Agra, grew into a mature man and
passed from youth to middle age, he slowly but steadily
won the hearts of all around him. At first some of his
companions might have sportively dismissed him as an
orthodox nonentity who did not know the art of enjoying
life, but was lost in the reading of scriptures and tedious
spiritual sadhnas. But as the years passed by, they realized
that they had among them no ordinary mortal. His prediction
to Bhagwan Singh at Sagar of their regiment's next posting
got wide currency and won him many admirers. While stationed
at Jamrud during the Afghan War, his mate Bhagwan Singh, who
had gone with a convoy, suddenly fell ill and died. At the
very moment his spirit was leaving its physical frame,
Jaimal Singh, many miles away, abruptly exclaimed,
"Wah wah nipat gaye," i.e. "Well, well, it is at last
over."
 
   Inder Singh, who had joined the regiment at Jhansi,
and had developed an intimate attachment for his revered
senior, becoming his first initiate, was sitting with him.
He was not a little surprised by this dramatic outburst,
and asked his teacher what it meant. Jaimal Singh was
reluctant to declare himself. "Why bother about that
which does not concern you?" he said, but when Inder
Singh persisted he told him that Bhagwan Singh had passed
away. The young soldier noted the time and date and when
the news of his colleague's death arrived, he found it
to be correct.
 
   Such strange happenings were not infrequent where
Jaimal Singh was concerned, and with the passage of time
he became an institution in the regiment. Everyone
respected him, and even the English officers held him
in great veneration, calling him "Lord Bishop." All those
spiritually inclined sought his company, and no less than
those who suffered from some worldly affliction. Thus,
Subedar Kharak Singh, who had been married for many
years without issue, begged him for the blessing of a child.
Jaimal Singh observed that he was not destined to have a
child, but when Kharak Singh continued to press him, his
prayer was granted. The child was born, but the happy
father failed to give away in charity the sum of Rs. 500
which Jaimal Singh had strictly enjoined him to distribute.
Not long after, the Subedar fell seriously ill. Jaimal Singh
was called, but he said that it was too late now and the
evil was past any remedy. A few days later, Kharak Singh
passed away.
 
   Was it mere chance or was it because of Jaimal Singh
that the members of the 24th Sikhs showed an extraordinary
interest in spiritual matters? It is not an unusual
phenomenon that the true holy men spread an aura of peace
wherever they are, drawing the devotees of the Lord toward
themselves and influencing those around them. This regiment
became known for its religious inclinations and many a sadhu
would pay it a visit wherever it was stationed.

Jaimal Singh was always invited whenever any sadhu paid
a visit to the regimental center or when any of its members
went forth to meet them. When once some of the young Sikh
soldiers had to be baptized as adults into their faith,
he was unhesitatingly chosen to conduct the ceremony and
gave an illuminating discourse on the inner spiritual
significance of the ritual. His recitations from scriptures
began gradually to be attended by more and more people, and
in later years Jaimal Singh, who by then had come to be
popularly addressed as "Baba Ji," "Bhai Ji," or "Sant Sepahi,"
often discoursed briefly on their true import.  His magnetic 
personality, his impeccable character, his spiritual
mastery and his growing fame gradually drew around him a
small circle of very devoted followers from the regiment,
men like Inder Singh, Bagga Singh, Bhagwan Singh, etc., 
who became his earliest initiates.
 
   But Baba Jaimal Singh's military career was conspicuous
not only for its rigid adherence to a high spiritual ideal,
but also for its equally remarkable performance in the
field of army duties. True to his Master's behest, Jaimal
Singh was extremely regular in his official routine.
Nothing could keep him away from his work except, perhaps,
his absorption in the Divine, on which occasions Swami Ji
miraculously filled up the gap. He was known for his
honesty and impartiality and, though a strict vegetarian
himself, did not hesitate to have meat distributed to his
fellows as duty bound when once he was called upon to do
so. Once an officer asserted that his vegetarianism was
in all probability undermining his capacities as a soldier
and suggested that he should take to non-vegetarian food
to develop more stamina and muscle. Jaimal Singh was
unconvinced and challenged any "meat-eating toughs" to
surpass him on the field. He was later requested to explain
the grounds for his abstinence, and gave a full discourse
to the entire regiment developing at length the reasons
why meat should be avoided and exploding the popular myth
that vegetarian food is in any way deficient in vitality.
His service roll, covering 34 years of active service,
proves the truth of his assertion. It records not a
single instance of hospitalization.
 
  Like his great Guru, Jaimal Singh was unassailable
both in swartha and parmartha - worldliness and godliness.
His exemplary regularity, sobriety and courage, his
readiness to shoulder responsibilities, and his honest
discharge of all his duties, for all his quietness and
unobtrusiveness, did not go unnoticed. In January 1869 he
was awarded a medal for the rank of a Naik while at Jhansi.

In Mianmir on the same day, three years later, he became
a Havildar; and when the 24th Sikhs were at Multan from
1880 onward for three years, he received a second medal
for loyal and meritorious service. He retired on l5th
August, 1889, after full 34 years of faithful and
creditable service; and when he bade his regiment farewell,
the hearts of all were heavy - juniors, colleagues and
seniors - for they lost in him not just a steady, hard-
working comrade, but a friend, a teacher (he taught Gurmukhi
to the officers) and what is far rarer, an unfailing and
inspiring moral and spiritual guide.

  The accounts of Baba Ji left by his army colleagues and
others are of a piece with the rest of his life and character.
Reading through them we learn of a man who, while lost in
the Divine mysteries, was yet not lost to the world.
A fellow soldier who happened to be placed under him
while he was a Havildar was surprised that in all the
three years they were together, he did not once notice or
hear of his being out of temper. He was always sweet-spoken
and refrained from harshness and vulgarity. All his
life he remained a strict vegetarian and an equally strict
teetotaler. And to these we may add his rigid brahmcharya,
for he remained a celibate all his years. Wedded to
devotion to God, he never experienced the urge to marry,
and stoutly resisted any attempt to cajole him into
matrimony. When his youngest brother Jiwan Singh also
entered the army and expressed his desire to marry, Jaimal
Singh did not object, but only said, "Why enter into this
web when our family is not destined to continue?" Jiwan
Singh was married and a year later a son was born who
died shortly, followed by his mother. Dan Singh, the
second brother, who managed the farm, also had no issue,
and Jaimal's prediction was thus fulfilled.
 
   Other qualities that marked Jaimal Singh out of the
general run of men included an inexhaustible capacity for
service, charity and generosity. Like Swami Ji, he often
distributed clothes and other necessities to the needy and
the wretched. He had no enemies and looked upon all as
his friends. His love however was especially directed to
the poor, and even more so to sadhus and devotees of the
Lord. While others were idling or busy with sport, he
sought out the company of such devotees, ministering to
their needs or discussing spiritual problems. Neither in his
army life nor even afterward did he distinguish between
creed and creed, but treated all - Muslims, Christians,
Sikhs or Hindus - on an equal footing. While ever ready
to help materially or spiritually, he always avoided the
limelight. Even as a child he had been known for his
modesty; his shyness being sometimes made a subject of
ridicule. If he met sadhus, he contented himself with
listening to what they said; he rarely contradicted or
criticized. If he met a genuine seeker, he was ready enough
to discuss and explain, but he attributed whatever he knew
not to any virtue in himself, but to the grace of his
peerless Master.
 
   His dress and appearance were as simple yet elegant as
the man himself. Of medium height, some five feet and
six inches, he was sturdily built. He had a knotty
protrusion on his forehead above the right eye and a lotus
mark, symbolic of true spirituality, on the sole of his right
foot. He had fine features, wheatish complexion and a glowing
face whose ruddy color was set off by a rich freely flowing
beard which retained its lustrous blackness to the very
end, except for a few straggling streaks of white. When
not in army uniform, he wore a white turban in Jat style,
a white muslin kurta (loose shirt), and tight-fitting
pyjamas of the same color. While in his quarter informally
among his fellows, he would usually wrap a khadi sheet
about himself tucking it on the left side, cover his hair
(which when unloosed fell to his waist) with a towel, and
move about in kharaon (wooden sandals) or jooti (Indian
shoes). He was simple in his habits and frugal in his needs.
Milk was his favorite item of food and he was particularly
fond of goat's milk. He spent little upon himself and his
earnings were mostly spent in charity or in sending
allowances to his brother.


                      [End of Part 3 of 7]

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