I Made Friends with a Saint - by Professor Uday Singh

A Word About The Author …

It was a bright sunny day of Canadian winter and the month was February 1993. It was all white as far as you could see. I was driving towards the residence of the author of this article with a great amount of curiosity and excitement to know first hand account of the personality of Bhai sahib Bhai Randhir Singh as I was told by S. Baljinder Singh, a friend of mine and my Sarangi teacher that Prof. Uday Singh had known Bhai Randhir Singh for many years, and also that he and his wife were never tired of talking about the Sikh saint. I had read and English translation of Jail Letters, a very impressive book by Bhai Randhir Singh. I was 21 at the time and had just come to Canada. I was going through a lot of mental turmoil due the change in culture and felt very alien at my heart in the new surroundings. Bhai Randhir Singh’s book gave me much needed strength and hope. His unbending faith, serenity of truthful living, supernatural experiences, and steadfastness had a very deep effect on my mind. It uplifted me from mental depression into a state of almost bliss. I came to realize that the strict adherence to the path of Guru Nanak and Guru Gobind Singh was the only way for a Sikh to attain eternal bliss. I read other books of Bhai Randhir Singh as well that increased my respect for the Sikh saint even more. I was always anxious to meet somebody who had known Bhai Randhir Singh personally, and when I heard about Prof Uday Singh’s long association with him I was extremely excited to meet Prof. Uday Singh. With these thoughts in my mind, on a wintery February weekend our car rolled towards Bolton (north of Toronto) where Prof. Uday Singh lived in his farm house. As we drove into the driveway of the house our car got stuck in a thick pile of snow that had fallen the day before. My friend and I struggled with the car when an old man with very brisk movements of a young man walked towards us. Even though it was very cold, he wore very light clothes. Exchanging Khalsa greetings, in a very carefree style he said “Don’t worry about it now, we’ll look after it later, let’s go into the house first”. We followed him into the house. This was Prof. Uday Singh, with a flowing gray beard with still a few streaks of black hair in it. He told us that he was 70 but did not look more than 60. His turban was tied in a rugged, carefree style. He had looks of a Darwesh. With piercing eyes into the space straight ahead, he spoke like a philosopher in a carefully worded language. I was very impressed with his humility, kindness, and moreover, the genuineness and sincerity of tis convictions. I immediately got him to talk about Bhai Sahib Bhai Randhir Singh. He closed his eyes and was immersed in the memory of the saint for a while. He talked at length with great adoration for Bhai Sahib. During this time he mentioned to me about having written and article about his personal association with Bhai Sahib. I also sensed a sense of melancholy when he talked about death of his young son and Bhai Sahib’s comments made when his son was merely three years old. Prof. Uday Singh showed me the letter Bhai Sahib wrote him in 1956 urging him and his wife to take Amrit. Although his wife did not talk at all during our three hour stay at his house, her presence in the room added serenity, gentleness, and tranquility to the surroundings. She was like a sea of peace and tranquility. Prof. Uday Singh brought the hand scribed manuscript of the article “I Made Friends with a Saint” and presented it to me as a departing gift. Prof. Uday Singh also talked about being defrauded of all his savings and having written a book about it. To which I responded by saying that you should perhaps spend your time writing about wisdom that you have acquired rather than mundane things of life. His quick and crisp answer was: “A melon will fall by itself from the vine when it is ripe. One cannot force anything in life.” His strong belief in the will of God, truthfulness, and darweshi (humility) touched me deeply. Another thing that struck me most about Prof. Uday Singh was his very strong view that machines have harmed mankind that have benefited it. I sensed a strong desire in him to go back to Punjab and live a rustic life of a farmer – away from all the noise and pollution of machines. On our way out Prof. Uday Singh came to see us off and with the agility like a young man pushed our car out of deeply set snow. That evening I did not rest until I finished reading his manuscript. Its contents touched me deeply, specifically the beautiful gentle heart of Prof. Uday Singh that I was able to see in it, and how much he prized his association with Bhai Sahib Bhai Randhir Singh – a gentle Sikh Saint. That evening I quietly resolved to publish this manuscript for everyone to read.

Harkinder Singh
April 16, 1993


I made Friends with a Saint

On page 898 of the Guru Granth Sahib there is a line which translates, “I made friends with a saint.”( ਜਾਨੀਸੰਤਕੀਮਿਤ੍ਰਾਈ ॥) I was lucky to have made friends with Bhai Sahib Randhir Singh and to have had his darshan for 15 years. The impression of his life on mine is indelible.

My parents lived in Jullundur where they had their own house. I received all my education up to second year in College in Jullundur. After that however, in march 1944, much against their wishes, I migrated over to Khalsa College, Amritsar. There, suddenly I had many class-mates from villages of Ludhiana, among them the late Mirgind Singh son of the late Giani Nahar Singh, publisher of Bhai Sahib’s books. These students often talked of Bhai Sahib. Giani Puran Singh, at that time the Superintendent of Patiala Hostel, a student-residence where I was putting up, promised to find for me the time when, and place where, I could see Bhai Sahib. In October 1945 I read Jail Letters in my maternal uncle’s house in New Delhi. This was a remarkable work. But more remarkable was the hero of that book, who was also its author. I became impatient to see him.in the summer of 1946 o was staying with my elder brother in Ferozpur, where Giani Puran Singh came to see us and told me that I could see Bhai Sahib at the house of his son, Sirdar Balbir Singh, in Civil Lines, Ludhiana. There, in July 1946, I say Bhai Sahib for the first time. At that time he didn’t yet look very old. He was broad-shouldered, well-built and of medium height. His forehead was broad, his nose flat and his face very serene. Guru Gobind Singh says “The Khalsa is my own image”. My first impression of Bhai Sahib was that he was indeed Guru’s own image. From this time on, I stayed at his feet for ever. I now know why I moved to Khalsa College, Amritsar, inspite of my parents’ objections. It was to have see Bhai Sahib, which, very likely, I would not have, otherwise. No doubt, my destiny then propelled me in his direction.

From August 8, 1946 to end of June 1947 I was employed in the ICAR in New Delhi. That position I resigned on july 1st to prepare for the then freshly instituted competitive exam for recruitment to the Indian Adminsitreative Services. On july 2nd, I took the Bombay Express train from Delhi to Jullundur. On the way I got off at Ludhiana and went to see Bhai Sahib. When walking to his house I told myself that I had already resigned my job and that therefore I had nothing else to do except prepare for the IAS exam. Moreover the mind was not ready not to compete for this exam, because I was certain I will pass it. So I decided not to ask Bhai Sahib if or if not I should sit for this exam. In this time I reached his house (the famous, Model Town, Ludhiana). There, as I sat before him, the first thing he asked me was, what I was doing. I got caught. Of course I said I will soon sit for the IAS exam. Quick he said “Don’t. You will lose you inclination for Nam and Bani. What will you do with all this worldly education? Leave it go.” ਭਾਈ ਸਾਹਿਬ ਦੇ ਬੋਲ ਸਨ: ਨਾਮ ਬਾਨੀ ਦੀ ਰੁਚੀ ਖੋ ਬੈਠੇਂਗਾ | ਛੱਡ ਪੜਾ ਪੜਾਈਆਂ। ਕੀ ਲੈਣਾ ਹੈ? His remarks were always pithy and pointed. I could feel the sting of his words. There it was. He was trying to stop me. I was not willing. The rest of the story is short. I wrote the IAS exam three times in 1948, 1949 and 1950 and duly failed all three times. In the process I accumulated heavy debts. I realized, only too late, that the Saint’s words could not have gone in vain. He did his duty towards me. Only I failed in mine. From this episode however, I can certainly conclude that a saint can change one’s fate and future. If I were to have accepted Bhai Sahib’s advice, I could have saved three best years of my youth, and instead of failing the exams, could have succeeded in acquiring Nam and Bani . How very blessed that would have been.

Preetam Singh

Continued from previous post:

During these years I seldom missed his Kirtan Samagams, but he never ever asked me how I was doing in my exams. After repeated failures in these exams, my future was indeed bleak. My date of birth as wrongly entered in my matriculation certificate made me 25 in October 1950 and that, in twin, made me overage for any more trials. Nor indeed did I want to try again. I had had enough of it. But what will I do? I was only B.A. then. So in September 1950 I joined M.A. (mathematics) as a student. Bhai Sahib’s Vaisakhi Smaagam in April 1951 was held in Amritsar. I went there as I entered the Pandal upstairs, I still remember, the line they were then singing was this:

ਕਿਸਹੀਕੋਈਕੋਇਮੰਞੁਨਿਮਾਣੀਇਕੁਤੂ ॥

After the night-long Kirtan, I had to come away early the following morning. Before I left, Bhai Sahib told me that he and his Jatha will follow me the same day by the flying train. At its arrival time, I again went to Jullundur railway station to see him in the train. It was about 2 pm and the date must be April 15, 1951. I was happy to see him again. But I wasn’t aware what was going to happen. He said, “what became of the exam you wanted to write?” My answer was, “I tried again and again but failed every time. I have now become overage for it. So I will have to reborn to pass it.” Quick he said a line by Bhagat Kabir, ਬਹੁਰਿਹਮਕਾਹੇਆਵਹਿਗੇ ॥ Years later, in December 1976, in Toronto, when I asked Bhai Jiwan Singh (himself Bhai Sahib’s lifelong companion) what this meant, he said “what it says.” I leapt for joy. Thus ended sequence of my IAS failures in a blessing from Bhai Sahib.

The month was February or November and the year 1951 or 1953. The place was Khurdpur (in Jullundur district). I went to hear Bhai Sahib’s Kirtan. There he was, sitting in the center of the Sangat, clad in his usual blue, singing divine Kirtan, his face beaming with inner joy. After the Kirtan, we moved next door (in the girl’s school, where he was staying). That day I was alone with him several hours. When I said, “Poetry should be like Guru Arjan’s”, He corrected me saying, “It is Gurbani, not poetry.” Continuing, I said, “Life should be like yours”, meaning that I would like my life to become like his. He said: “It will be in awhile yet.” Soon it was time to leave. I asked his permission. He said, “ I will see you off”, and together we moved out of the room into the compound of the school. There we stood face to face, when he held me in his arms what a beautiful new feeling I had all over my body. And of for the taste in my throat, I have no words for this sensation, because I haven’t had it before or since. Many times later Bhai Sahib and I have embraced each other, but that feeling of unbearable pleasure never returned.

In September 1954, Bhai Sahib preformed Akhand Paath and Kirtan in Sirdar Hardial Singh’s house (on Ladowali Road, Jullundur). My son, Kirpal Singh, then three and I went to see Bhai Sahib and stayed with him most of that day. We were sitting in the yard, while Akhand Paath was going on, inside the house. Suddenly Bhai Sahib asked me to run to hear a line, then shortly coming in the reading of the Guru Granth Sahib, and which, he said was for me. I ran in, did hear something, but now forgot what it was. Later that afternoon, he asked me to get a rickshaw so we could go out for some fresh air. When the rickshaw puller came, I handed Kirpal and my bicycle to him I sat Bhai Sahib on the rickshaw and started pedaling it myself. We went clear out of town and stopped at the government sugarcane farm. Parking the rickshaw by an irrigation ditch, I went to the nearby tube-well, leaving Bhai Sahib alone for a short walk in the fields. Soon he came back to the well. Meanwhile I forgot all about Kirpal. In our absence, he started pushing at the rickshaw and, before long, had it upside down in the ditch. That was easy. But how to get the thing back on it’s wheels? When Bhai Sahib and I came back on the scene, the little boy, still struggling to pull the bicycle out of the ditch, was sweating all over. His clothes were soiled and his hands and feet were muddied. Seeing this Bhai Sahib said to Kirpal, “Watch before you mess your own life like that.” His exact words I forget but the meaning was just about this. From that day on, I had a vague feeling that something bad will happen to Kirpal sometime.

Today with the benefit of hindsight, I can fathom the message of the one line in the Holy Granth, which, Bhai Sahib said, was for me and which I did hear but then forgot. Very likely that line cautioned me against being to desperately attached to the boy, or for that matter, to other worldly possessions, But since I did not heed the message, Bhai Sahib decided to take me out alone and to repeat the warning in particular reference to the boy.

In June 1955 I passed my M.A. exam. The following one year was my blackest. I had a family, two sons, responsibilities, debts, a first class Master’s degree, but no job. I knew grinding poverty. I made applications all over India, also, some abroad. Finially in July 1956, Khalsa College, Mahilpur, hired me as a Lecturer in Mathematics. Bhai Sahib once said to me, “You are good at mathematics”. He used the Persian word “Taq” to say this. To this I attribute my modest success in the line of Mathematics.

All these years, Bhai Sahib kept asking me to take Amrit but I kept procrastinating. In May 1957, I received a post card from him, which, though, was scribed and signed for him by somebody else, and in which he asked my wife and I to come prepared to take Amrit and the time of Shaheedi Gurpurb in Ludhiana (in June). In a post script he said my wife was going to bear my fruit, and so the Amrit Samagam was arranged only for our sake (before the baby’s arrival that is). We became aware of our secret only after reading his post card, which I still have. It is dated May 25, 1957. We took Amrit in June 1957. Our only daughter was born on November 20, 1957.

Preetam Singh

thank you very much for posting this bhai sahib!

Sukhsehaj Kaur

Continued from previous posts:

In a letter dated March 4, 1960, University of Notre Dame, Indiana, USA, approved my status as graduate student and teaching assistant to do advanced work in Mathematics. I wanted to go. But not without asking Bhai Sahib. In 1947 he dissuaded me from taking the IAS exam. I disobeyed him and suffered. I didn’t want that to happen to me again. I settled with that if he didn’t want me to go, I wouldn’t. in this frame of mind, when I asked his permission, he said, “Go do good to others and come back” ਭਾਈ ਸਾਹਿਬ ਦੇ ਬਚਨ ਸਨ: ਜਾਉ, ਪਰਉਪਕਾਰ ਕਰੋ, ਮੁੜ ਕੇ ਆਉ। Subsequently however, when I was refused my visa on medical grounds, in July 1960, I came back to him worried. At that time he had difficulty speaking. But seeing me he said, “Why are you still here? Haven’t you gone?” My question was answered. I realized I will go. But (in the excitement) I forgot to ask him if my family could accompany me, for how long could I stay abroad, when will I see him again. This was my last Darshan of him. After that I never saw him except in my dreams. I arrived in the states early in September 1960. There in a letter from my wife I learnt that the Saint who had guided and helped me so much, to whom I owed so much and even foretold me my future, had expired in April 1961. I had always desired to go back to India to cling to his feet, but that was not to be.

My present University hired me from September 1961 and my wife and four children joined me in Canada in May 1963.

In September 1970 I sent Kirpal, then 19, to the University of Calgary, as a student. He failed his year there, because, as I learnt later, he started chasing girls. So I asked him to come to my university the following school year. He did come home in the summer months, but didn’t listen to my advice and returned to Calgary. I refused to support him there. Over the telephone and in letters, he became very rude. In a very nasty letter in October 1971, he told me he cut his hair. This was a shock to me. Three months later he said he wanted to marry a German girl, which was another shock to me. Finally I wrote him a long letter in February 1972. In this I told him for the first time what Bhai Sahib said to him 17 years ago in the sugarcane farm in Jullundur. I said that I was there afraid for him. I also tried to dissuade him from marrying that white girl. I implored before him to regrow his hair and to come back home. With trembling hands I remember, I also wrote that if he could not regrow hair, and for as long as he would not, our relation as father and son would stand terminated. He never replied to that letter. In April 1972, at the time of Vaisakhi celebration in Windsor, I learned from my younger brother that Kirpal had made his girl pregnant and that the two had secured an abortion. This news tasted to me like death. In June 1972, he married her. This marriage destroyed what little hope I had of regaining him. There was not contact left between us, even though I gave him to understand (through my brother) that I would recognize their marriage if they both came back into Sikhism. Once or twice in these years, he did phone his mother. He also tried to get a common friend to intervene. I had the impression that he wanted to come back and kept waiting for him. In September 1974, one day when I came back home, I met a tall white girl and a taller coloured boy standing in front of my house. The boy tried to fight back his nervousness and the girl tried to force out a smile. I asked them in but before they stepped in, my other son Dial told me that they were Kirpal and Peggy. He was still shaven. For that and for what I heard. I was angry with them. He was angry with me. I asked him, “Who are you?” Peggy said, “He is your son, Kirpal” I said to him, “Regrow your hair and then come back.” They both left, Kirpal still yelling at me. That was the last time I saw him.

I now regret I didn’t then sit with him and talk things over. His coming back was an indication that he was willing to change. The young lady likely will also have accepted some change. If only Kirpal were to come back in Sikh form. But how could that be? He had to mess his life. The Saint’s words had been said long ago.

Meanwhile I had decided that Canada was not the country for our teenage children. So I sent my family to India to live. This was the summer of 1974 and 1975. In May 1975 I also went to India. In late July that year, my wife and I, and our youngest son Kirat, went to Kumarhatti in Shimla hills where Bhai Sahib used to stay for summer. Babuji Mall Singh (himself a saint and companion of Bhai Sahib for over 50 years) also joined us there. Every time he talked to my wife he told her to not let me return to Canada alone. I told him in Canada my children were in danger of becoming Christians and that therefore I wouldn’t take them back with me. He still insisted that my wife would accompany me. He even told her to go on fast, or to sit Dharna in my way, to stop me from returning to Canada without her. I started wondering why Babuji said this again and again. We left Kumarhatti on August 6 and Babuji saw us off at the bus stop, still insisting that my wife accompany me to Canada. On September 4, while I alone was leaving home for Canada, my wife reminded me of what Babuji said so many times. I reached my home in Canada on September 5. A month later, on October 6th evening, my brother phoned me from the states that earlier that day, a little after 5 in the morning, Kirpal had been killed in a car accident near Medicine Hall in Alberta. I then realized the reason for Babuji’s insistence. I immediately wired my wife. She arrived on October 12. We cremated Kirpal’s body on October 14, 1975. He was little over 24 at the time of his death.

I offered last Ardas for Kirpal’s soul. Thought of his long separation from us before death made me cry. Sobbing in Sangat before Guru Granth Sahib, I said, “His death does not pain me. His sins do.” I undertook to become responsible for his sins as if I had done them. But asked that he be pardoned. I even asked transferred to him whatever little was my own spiritual attainment. Of course I remembered Bhai Sahib during the prayer and asked his help to save Kirpal, his mother, and me. From the Guru, I asked assurance of Kirpal’s protection in specific words which I actually spelled out. I asked to be assured, and in exactly these words, that Kirpal’s sins had been washed, that the messenger of death would not inflict pain on him, that the Guru would hold him by the finger to see him through difficult passes and that he would be in peace everafter. In tears all the time, I felt relieved at the conclusion of Ardas when I said that if he were to be reborn I would be happy to welcome him back into my family line. At this we read a Shabad from Guru Granth Sahib. A miracle happened. Everybody present witnessed it. The Shabad soothed me by saying exactly what I wanted said, and in exactly the words in which I had asked it said. In joy I threw my arms in the air, because I had no doubt that Kirpal had been pardoned. The Shabad was the last on Ang 895 of the Holy Guru Granth Sahib. Bhai Gurdev Singh read it for us. It is as follows:

ਰਾਮਕਲੀਮਹਲਾ ੫ ॥
ਦੁਲਭਦੇਹਸਵਾਰਿ ॥ ਜਾਹਿਨਦਰਗਹਹਾਰਿ ॥ ਹਲਤਿਪਲਤਿਤੁਧੁਹੋਇਵਡਿਆਈ ॥ ਅੰਤਕੀਬੇਲਾਲਏਛਡਾਈ ॥੧॥ ਰਾਮਕੇਗੁਨਗਾਉ ॥ ਹਲਤੁਪਲਤੁਹੋਹਿਦੋਵੈਸੁਹੇਲੇਅਚਰਜਪੁਰਖੁਧਿਆਉ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥ ਊਠਤਬੈਠਤਹਰਿਜਾਪੁ ॥ ਬਿਨਸੈਸਗਲਸੰਤਾਪੁ ॥ ਬੈਰੀਸਭਿਹੋਵਹਿਮੀਤ ॥ ਨਿਰਮਲੁਤੇਰਾਹੋਵੈਚੀਤ ॥੨॥ ਸਭਤੇਊਤਮਇਹੁਕਰਮੁ ॥ ਸਗਲਧਰਮਮਹਿਸ੍ਰੇਸਟਧਰਮੁ ॥ ਹਰਿਸਿਮਰਨਿਤੇਰਾਹੋਇਉਧਾਰੁ ॥ ਜਨਮਜਨਮਕਾਉਤਰੈਭਾਰੁ ॥੩॥ ਪੂਰਨਤੇਰੀਹੋਵੈਆਸ ॥ ਜਮਕੀਕਟੀਐਤੇਰੀਫਾਸ ॥ ਗੁਰਕਾਉਪਦੇਸੁਸੁਨੀਜੈ ॥ ਨਾਨਕਸੁਖਿਸਹਜਿਸਮੀਜੈ ॥੪॥੩੦॥੪੧॥

On hearing this Shabad my pain stopped and healing started. Babuji wrote me a very moving letter. In this he clearly said that Kirpal will be reborn in my family line. Subsequently he even discussed it with me and my wife. He didn’t say when. Will Kirpal be reborn as my grandson? Or as what? He didn’t say that either. But with my experience of Bhai Sahib and Babuji’s earlier predictions, I do not doubt that this one will also come true. I am waiting for Kirpal.

I treasure in my heart many more of Bhai Sahib’s sayings. Some of these I can’t say in English. In another one, he said such a big thing about such a small man, that I hesitate to disclose it. It is about me. But happen, it will too, no doubt about that. His words, “Do good to others”, said to me on my eve of departure to America, lead to my involvement in Gurdwara work in Sudbury and Toronto. But inclusion of detail of such involvement in this article will make it too long, I am afraid.

Bhai Sahib had miraculous powers. He could read minds and foretell futures. His words always came true. By his magical powers, he could changes one’s future. He could even alter the course of nature. Once, during his Kirtan in Narangwal, rain started. The Sangat started moving for cover. The heavenly bliss coming from Kirtan was thus interrupted. At that time the line they were singing was ਕਿਛੁਹਾਥਿਕਿਸੈਦੈਕਿਛੁਨਾਹੀ.. At this he lifted his hand and in a loud voice he said ਇਸ ਮੇਘਲੇ ਦੇ ਹੱਥ ਭੀ ਕੁਛ ਨਹੀਂ। Soon the rain stopped and his Kirtan continued. His Kirtan would usually last for well over twenty four hours, sometimes over thirty-six. All these hours he would sit there, sometimes motionless for hours. In his company ordinary men and women turned into singers of Gurbani, and he collected hundreds such around him, because many singing birds alighted on his Kirtan-Sarovar. A school teacher (I think Tarlok Singh was his name) used to sing a long Sarang Shabad, ਸਭਦੇਖੀਐਅਨਭੈਕਾਦਾਤਾ ॥ and the Sangat would be spell-bound. Bhai Jiwan Singh who sang Kirtan for Bhai Sahib for a quarter century is still doing it. A young lady used to sing a Shabad, ਮੋਹਿਲਾਗਤੀਤਾਲਾਬੇਲੀ ॥ Twice I heard her sing it. But only twice. It was blissful. A boy of ten used to sit and sing all night. Bhai Sahib did not like the Tana Riri of the musicians. He sang Gurbani in straight tunes. He revived the disappearing Sikh tradition of night long Kirtan. His Rain Sabai Kirtan always started with the Shabad headed “Din Rain” on Ang 136 of Guru Granth Sahib. As Kirtan progressed, the voice of singers became hoarser but more honied, till, around early morning, the Kirtan seemed coming from heaven, and became unbearably sweet.

Preetam Singh

Professor Uday Singh jee's account of how his son Kirpal became a patit and later on died, and how he did Ardaas for his soul, is very heart-rending to read. I have heard the whole episode from his mouth and it was such a tragic event of his life.

Professor jee was a jewel that we have lost.

Kulbir Singh

Waheguru ji ka khalsa waheguru ji ki fateh jio. Does anyone have pdf link for the complete book? It would be great if it is available in punjabi also.