Sat Nam Dear Family
It was February, 1993 when the plane touched down in Hong Kong. We were the guests of a gentleman who was, and still is very wealthy and well respected in the Hong Kong community. He and his brother own and operate a 5 star hotel chain throughout Asia. His home was a mansion: his bedroom walls strung with millions of pearls; each family member had his/her own floor (yes, floor, not just room or suite); there was a staff of servants and cooks downstairs standing by for your call as to what you’d like to eat or any other request; this was the real deal, this is how today’s aristocracy lives.
Needless to say, we were entertained as royalty. Just to give you an example of how the Siri Singh Sahib was respected, a new wing to the mansion was built only for him and his staff’s housing. They were still completing it when we arrived.
Our host is from an area in northern India and Pakistan called Sind. From my observation, this is what I know about Sindis. They worship Guru Nanak. They don’t really follow the succession of Guru’s except they do worship the Siri Guru Granth Sahib. There was a special room on top of the mansion built as a Gurdwara with the Guru sitting reverently in the center. It was always pleasant going to this room when we’d first arrive as it was kept in a high vibration.
Sindis, like many other paths, have the tradition of giving. In fact, the brother of our host had recently given millions of dollars to a well respected Swami in America to build a yoga/Hindu community in Virginia. Our host was a billionaire, and he was also a giving man (dispelling the rumor that all corporate men are only self serving). He was an Indian gentleman in all sense of the word. The Siri Singh Sahib liked him (see picture of our host and magnificent breakfast presentation).
Back home things were tight. The businesses were expanding, but cash flow was always an issue. Things were good, but pressure was always there. Those days I would have loved for that pressure to be eased, but the challenges seemed never ending. Then something happened which could have changed everything.
The day after arriving and still riddled with jetlag, the Siri Singh Sahib asked me to escort him to our host’s private office. We walked by the dining area into a private section with guards and all. The office was beautiful with a grand desk and two couches facing one another. Our host was waiting on one of the couches and, seeing us, stood in respect and requested for us to join him on the facing couch. After a few pleasantries, our host pulled from his pocket a folded piece of paper. The communication was in Punjabi or some derivation which I didn’t understand. The Siri Singh Sahib looked at me and said, “Son, please get that for me.” I got up and walked to the other couch, retrieved the paper and handed it to the Master.
As I was handing it to him, I couldn’t help see what it was. It was a cashier’s check for one million dollars. I thought we had met John Beresford Tipton, the benefactor of the 1950’s T.V. show, the Millionaire. And, this was when a million dollars was a MILLION dollars. He looked at the check (I can still see him doing it), looked up at me and said, “Son, please return this with my most sincere thanks.” I guess if anyone was looking at me they would have seen my chin almost flop to the floor. I did as he requested thinking to myself: Wow, just Wow! Who turns down a million dollar gift especially when you can really use it? He did and I felt great about it!
Here he was again living the Guru’s teachings. He was “keeping it real, man.” He didn’t let circumstances dictate or affect his consciousness. He put his faith only in himself, his Guru, and his God. He wanted his students to deliver the results, and he wouldn’t allow any influence outside of his consciousness and the Guru’s instructions. He didn’t look to eliminate pressure; he lived to overcome it through faith. He was going to cover, carry, and contain all which fell under his duty. He was “The Man.” Here I was a spectator- and student- to great virtue being displayed, the kind you read about in books. I write these stories to let the world know what I experienced as to who he truly was. That’s my duty.
M.S.S. Hari Jiwan Singh Khalsa,
Chief of Protocol
Yogi Bhajan, Flexibility Leads to Nobility