Since teenage

Ch-01

In the gentle embrace of Kartarpura's morning light, 17-year-old Geet knelt before the small idol of Lord Krishna in the temple corner of her home, her face serene, her hands clasped in a quiet, intimate prayer. Geet was devoted to Krishna, her confidant and companion—she shared her heart with him, her dreams, her worries, her joys.

Just then, her grandmother’s voice, filled with concern and faint annoyance, echoed through the house.

“Geet, kitthe ae si tu?”
("Geet, where have you been?")

Her grandmother wandered through each room, momentarily forgetting that Geet was always in the temple at this hour.

“Aethe mandir ch an mai, Bebbe,” Geet replied softly.
("I’m here, in the temple, Bebbe.")

She completed her prayer, a peaceful smile on her face, and walked over to her grandmother, who greeted her with a look of flustered affection.

“Oh, forget it!” her grandmother said, waving a hand dismissively, though her eyes held warmth. “But tell me, what’s your plan for tomorrow? You do remember what tomorrow is, don’t you?” Geet looked at her grandmother, a playful smile tugging at her lips, knowing her bebbe’s memory was not what it used to be.

“Oh, I was only wondering if my dear bebbe remembered!” Geet teased gently, glancing up to see if her grandmother would catch the hint. But before she could get an answer, her grandmother’s face lit up, and she embraced Geet.

“Yes, yes! Of course, I remember!” Bebbe exclaimed, clearly excited now. “Tomorrow is the Nagar Kirtan, the procession in honor of Guru Nanak Dev Ji’s birthday. How could I forget?”

Geet’s face softened. She loved the Nagar Kirtan—the music, the colors, the spirit of devotion. She had grown up watching her bebbe actively participate in it, organizing, preparing langar, decorating the gurudwara. This year, Geet was taking on some responsibilities herself, and the thought thrilled her.

“You’ll let me help, right, Bebbe?” Geet asked, her voice hopeful.

Her grandmother chuckled, a sparkle of pride in her eyes. “You’re not a child anymore, Geet. You’re taking the lead this time. I’ll just follow your instructions.”

Geet’s heart swelled with happiness, and she threw her arms around her grandmother. This was more than she had hoped for.

“Thank you, Bebbe! I won’t let you down,” she promised earnestly.

They spent the morning preparing, discussing plans and making lists. Geet listened intently as her grandmother shared stories from past years’ celebrations—stories of faith, devotion, and unity. As the day passed, the air seemed to buzz with the anticipation of the festivities ahead, the small village of Kartarpura preparing to light up in honor of Guru Nanak Dev Ji.

Later that evening, as Geet looked out from her bedroom window, watching the village lights begin to flicker on, she felt a quiet joy. This was her world, her people, and tomorrow, she would honor it in the best way she knew—with love, reverence, and a promise to carry forward the tradition.

The night stretched on, and soon, only the soft murmur of prayers could be heard drifting from house to house, as the entire village awaited the dawn of a blessed new day.

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Waheguru da Khalsa
Waheguru ji di Fateh .

Byee