scorecardresearch
Wednesday, July 16, 2025
Support Our Journalism
HomeOpinionVaisakhi is a season of longing, liberation, and a spiritual uprising against...

Vaisakhi is a season of longing, liberation, and a spiritual uprising against caste oppression

Today, Vaisakhi is celebrated with langar, processions, and fairs. But its real spirit lies in asking ourselves: Are we still brave enough to become Khalsa?

Follow Us :
Text Size:

The month of Vaisakh, the second in the traditional Sikh calendar, begins with Sangrand—a sacred threshold of spiritual reflection. In the Barah Maha Majh, Guru Arjan Dev beautifully describes the twelve months through metaphors of separation and divine union. On Ang 133 of the Guru Granth Sahib, he writes:

Vaisaakh Dhheeran Kio Vaadteeaa Jinaa Praem Bishhohu…”

“In the month of Vaisakh, how can the soul-bride be patient, when she is separated from her Beloved?”

This longing, this spiritual yearning, is at the heart of Vaisakh or Baisakh. Beyond its seasonal beauty and agricultural abundance, Vaisakh is a month of awakening—of both sorrow and strength.

Most popularly known for Vaisakhi or Baisakhi, this month marks both a joyous harvest and a revolutionary rebirth. For farmers across Punjab, mustard fields sway and wheat is gathered with gratitude. But for Sikhs, Vaisakhi carries a sharper edge—etched not in golden grain but in the steel of courage and the ink of sacrifice.


Also read: Is caste now an undeniable part of Sikhism? New paper by JNU professor sheds light


Rebellion against oppression

In 1699, Guru Gobind Singh summoned thousands to Anandpur Sahib—not merely to observe a festival, but to ignite a movement. He stood before the gathering and asked, “Who among you will give your head for truth?” What followed was not a ritual but a rebellion—a bold challenge to centuries of oppression, hierarchy, and fear.

One by one, five men stepped forward. They were not elites. They were a Khatri, a Jat, a water-carrier, a tailor, and a barber. With these five—the Panj Pyare—Guru Gobind Singh shattered caste boundaries and created the Khalsa, a brotherhood of saint-soldiers born not of blood, but of love and sacrifice.

This act of calling forth five volunteers was not merely spiritual—it was deeply political. Among those who stepped forward were men from oppressed and marginalised castes, including so-called “lower” castes like the water-carrier and the barber. In a society where birth determined one’s destiny, Guru Gobind Singh offered a radical alternative: a new identity rooted not in caste but in courage, not in lineage but in love. This was a spiritual insurrection against Brahmanical orthodoxy. The creation of the Khalsa was, in many ways, a collective reclaiming of dignity for the downtrodden.

April, which also marks Dalit History Month, reminds us that Vaisakhi was not just a Sikh event—it was a historic assertion of anti-caste values and the right to spiritual and social equality. At a time when caste discrimination continues to fester—even within some Sikh spaces—Guru Gobind Singh’s message is a clarion call for introspection and reform.

And then, in an act of profound humility and egalitarianism, Guru Gobind Singh knelt and took amrit from the very hands of those he had initiated. He made it clear: leadership in the Khalsa is shared, not imposed. The Khalsa was not a brotherhood—it was a siblinghood.

Women were not excluded from this divine order. Guru Gobind Singh bestowed the title of Kaur (Princess) upon every Sikh woman and entrusted Mata Sahib Kaur with the soul of the Khalsa, forever enshrining her as its spiritual mother. This was not a symbolic gesture; it was a direct blow to patriarchy.

From this sacred revolution emerged a people who were transformed—from peasants into poets of the sword, from the oppressed into the protectors. The Khalsa’s sword was not for conquest, but for the defense of the weak and voiceless. It was love that made them fearless.

Even mystic poets like Bulleh Shah echoed this sentiment. While the world celebrated Vaisakhi with bangles and songs, he lamented the absence of the Beloved. Just like the soul-bride in Guru Arjan Dev’s verse, the mystic too longed not for the world’s riches, but for divine union.

And that’s the essence of Vaisakhi: to transform longing into liberation.


Also read: Want to understand Punjab’s history? Look to farmers and peasants, not Gurus


Revelation of the Khalsa

The revelation of the Khalsa was not a momentary event but the culmination of a spiritual and social journey spanning over 240 years. It began at Kartarpur Sahib, where Guru Nanak sowed the seeds of oneness and equality while tilling the soil, and reached its institutional form at Anandpur Sahib, where Guru Gobind Singh formally gave birth to the Khalsa. Rooted in the eternal Shabad, the Khalsa embodies divine love and fearless commitment. Long before its institutionalisation, Bhagat Kabir in Gurbani had already described the essence of the Khalsa—as those who are true lovers of the Divine.

ਕਹਿ ਕਬੀਰ ਜਨ ਭਏ ਖ਼ਾਲਸੇ ਪ੍ਰੇਮ ਭਗਤਿ ਜਿਹ ਜਾਨੀ ਊ — Kahi Kabir jan bhae Khaalse, prem bhagat jih jaani.

It means: Kabir says those who have known the path of loving devotion have become Khalsa (Guru Granth Sahib, Ang 655).

This verse is often interpreted as Kabir’s spiritual expression of the Khalsa—not as a marker of birth or identity, but as a profound state of being defined by inner purity, love, and devotion to the Divine. This perspective sheds light on why Guru Gobind Singh, the tenth Sikh Guru, referred to the first five initiated Sikhs as Pyare—beloved ones devoted to the Timeless One.

This spiritual call also resonated historically in acts of resistance and justice. The foundation laid by Guru Nanak—who emphasised devotion, equality, and selfless service—was built upon by his successors. Guru Hargobind introduced the concept of Miri-Piri—combining temporal and spiritual power—while Guru Gobind Singh institutionalised it in the Khalsa.


Also read: Punjab’s Sikhs have 99 problems but Khalistan ain’t one. They’re very proud Indians, but angry


Challenges before the community

Vaisakhi also reminds us of the Jallianwala Bagh massacre, when British forces opened fire on a peaceful gathering, killing hundreds. That tragedy, too, is part of this month’s complex tapestry—a cry against tyranny, forever woven into Sikh memory.

In every crisis since, the Sikh community has responded with unwavering commitment. During the Covid-19 pandemic, Sikhs set up “oxygen langars” and fed millions. From rebuilding homes in earthquake-hit Nepal and Haiti to supporting Rohingya refugees in Myanmar, Sikh organisations have led humanitarian efforts across continents.

Even during world wars, Sikh regiments—despite serving under colonial command—fought with unmatched valour, earning global recognition. Whether supporting communities in Ukraine today or feeding the homeless in cities worldwide, Sikh service remains selfless and boundless.

Yet, challenges persist. Despite their contributions, Sikhs still face discrimination. Their turbans, beards, and the symbolic kirpan are often misunderstood. At times, their loyalty is questioned. Casteism too, ironically, continues to plague Sikh institutions in Punjab, with some villages even having separate gurdwaras.

These contradictions are painful. But they are not hidden. They are acknowledged, because Sikhism demands introspection alongside action. Guru Nanak’s call for equality was not just spiritual—it was deeply social. And his message of Sarbat da Bhala—the well-being of all—remains the Sikh community’s moral compass.

Today, Vaisakhi is celebrated with bhangra and langar, processions and fairs. But its real spirit lies in asking ourselves: Are we still brave enough to become Khalsa? Not just in appearance, but in courage, compassion, and truth?

To be Khalsa is not to be perfect, but to be committed—to justice, to oneness, to the service of humanity.

This Vaisakhi, may we remember that the harvest of the soul is not in fields—but in hearts that are willing to stand for love, equality, and freedom.

Kanwal Singh is a Sikh scholar and writer from Jammu and Kashmir, and Damanjeet Kaur (@djkaur101) is a writer from Punjab. Views are personal,

Subscribe to our channels on YouTube, Telegram & WhatsApp

Support Our Journalism

India needs fair, non-hyphenated and questioning journalism, packed with on-ground reporting. ThePrint – with exceptional reporters, columnists and editors – is doing just that.

Sustaining this needs support from wonderful readers like you.

Whether you live in India or overseas, you can take a paid subscription by clicking here.

Support Our Journalism

4 COMMENTS

  1. Banal article written with chatgpt and full of brahmin hatred. He waxes eloquent about Khalsa panth without mentioning who exactly was Opressor and who were they fighting against. Truth wouldn’t suit his Leftist ,Hindu hating agenda. Hence Brahminical patriarchy.
    Why do these people get representation in The Print is beyond reasoning. I mean if you assume The Print is a a reasonable publication.

  2. What a pseudo narrative!! Sikism came about with first born boys from the farm lands. It also included Khatri and brahmin boys. It was a social movement to begin with. Mostly against Muslim aristocracy. So what spin are we trying to portray here…

  3. I glanced through the article. Except for one paragraph, the subject header and content barely match. This is misleading. I also wonder how Sikh Dalits and ex-Sikh Dalits, now Christian, will react to the claims.

  4. Is that so, Mr. Singh and Ms. Kaur?
    For a change why don’t you rise up against Islamic radicalism? Or initiate a spiritual revolution against Islamic fundamentalism?
    Don’t see the havoc caused across the world by Islamic Jihadi terrorism?

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here

Most Popular