**3. Discussion**

The contemporary need is to critically examine how we see ourselves as Sikh women and the effect on us from those around us who inform our thoughts, our ideas, and our beliefs (like our families, our community, the Sri Guru Granth, etc.)—our proud tradition as *sevadarnis*, as keepers of the faith, as women who share our past and our traditions with our children, families, and the next generation while valuing what the older generations of women have given us as their legacy. Upholding this interrogation of Sikh women's identity through a reinterpretation of narrative agency as (Bhabha 1994) suggests, finds room "in between disavowal and designation" (p. 50). (Singh 2010) suggests that at no time in the history of Sikhism were women barred from active participation in society: "women spoke, saw, and acted and they were heard, seen and followed. They were active subjects in all spheres of the evolving Sikh tradition" (p. 213). While evidence to the contrary or support is thinly developed, in upholding a desire for equality, it is abundantly clear that it is not enough to function through representation that is constructed by the "other". In the contemporary world, Sikh women may choose not to rely on theologians, scholars, or exegetes and may want to create their own personal relationship with Sikhi, the text, its practice, and its *Rahit* without a mediator. While the first words of the Sri Guru Granth—*Ikk Oan Kar* have universal appeal, textual interpretation can be explored on an individual level. *Ikk Oan Kar* (One, manifest as Word) is believed to represent the unified primal cosmic essence of existence (*urja*), consciousness (*surti*), and bliss (*anand*)—one with everything and connecting the One with the infinite. The verses of the Guru Granth allow for a personal interpretation, not as a method but, rather, as an orientation of one's own self toward *gurbani* (devotional poetry of the Gurus). The verses repeatedly call the subject to be open to a personal experience of a union with the One in spiritual love. Sikh studies scholars agree that Sikhism as a religion categorically espoused that "[n]either social mores nor gender were to bar humanity from attaining liberation from the cycle of rebirth (*jiwan mukti*), according to the Sikh Gurus. Whether rich or poor, high or low caste, male or female, the divine light (*jot*) resided within" (Jakobsh 2014, p. 594).

In contemporary Sikh society, the gender neutral, spiritually and ethically significant *punj kakars* (commonly referred to as the five Ks) provide both Sikh women and men with the pre-requisite of spiritual form and order. However, in practice, it was not always thus: in the eighteenth century, *Chaupa Singh Rahitnama* (code of conduct) prohibited women from exercising a full and wholesome right to practice their faith (McLeod 1997; Jakobsh 2003). However, in varying degrees from the late nineteenth century onwards, different perspectives came to bear (McLeod 2008; Grewal 2009; Dhavan 2010), and women have slowly taken back some of what had not been realized, as we witness with Sikh women in the diaspora and their prescription to the Dastar (turban/*pagh*) as an identity marker (Singh 2005). While the Shiromani Gurdwara Parbandhak Committee's posted Rahit (1994) states that a Sikh woman may or may not tie a turban, there has also been a modern secularization of symbols in the faith, where the turban is a clothing accoutrement to many Sikh men without the accompanying significance to the *punj kakars* and initiation (Virinder 2006). For women, however, the *dastaar* has taken on significance as a symbol of their commitment to the "exterior markers becom[ing] the dominant signifiers of Sikh identity" (Jakobsh 2014, p. 595). (Virinder 2006) further suggests that while the turban may have represented "the marking of a male space in which honour and status come to be

symbolized through the turban ... women who wear the *pagh* use their position to undermine much of the patriarchal heritage associated with the symbol" (p. 82). (Jakobsh 2014), however, states that "gender di fferentiation however remains clearly in place with regard to normative codes" and "a highly gendered, normative *Khalsa* identity thus remains strongly in place" (p. 596). At this current time, I would sugges<sup>t</sup> that both views represent a contemporary evolution of gender identities and representation of faith.

As external markers of the faith, pioneering Western Sikh feminist and scripture scholar (Singh 2005) suggests that "they (the 5 Ks) are concerned with forming an ethical citizen situated within an active, social, political and religious world" (p. 98). Sikh feminists undertaking interpretations of the *punj kakars* with a goal to emancipate Sikhs from a narrow androcentric view that is so prevalent in the faith is much needed. (Singh 2005, 2014b) has provided this first feminist interpretation. New frameworks that address di fference and diversity of understandings codify the need to firmly accommodate gendered viewpoints into the philosophy, form, and function of Sikhism. One such form is the Sikh's personal articles of faith that likely play a role in the formation of their personal identity—the *punj kakars* —*kacchahira, kangha, kes, kirpan and kara.* It is these articles that I turn my mind to in order to understand upholding the code of the Sikhs with precise feminist hermeneutics.

I find this undertaking critically important, because, as (Singh 2005) poignantly suggests,

"The five Ks have come to dictate who is to soldier, and who is to submit, who is to demand and who is to give, who feels superior and who feels inferior, who expresses anger and who su ffers in silences, who inherits the father's land or business and who so left out, who is a credit and who is a debit, and ultimately who is rejoiced over in birth and who is aborted".

> (p. 101)

Nikky-Guninder Singh takes a deep and enriching dive into her interpretation of the accoutrements of the *Khalsa* in her book *The Birth of the Khalsa* (Singh 2005) precisely because "the range and subtlety of male interpretations are bewildering" (p. 101) to a feminist scholar questioning "if symbols that are intrinsically paradoxical and multivalent can be masculine why can't they be feminine as well?" (p. 102). It is the potential of gender inclusivity that appears to lie at the heart of Guru Gobind's philosophy of eradicating gender-based discrimination and bias that informs the *Rahit*.

I start my personal analysis and interpretation with five *kakars* that have intimacy with the body and its associated discipline for the *Khalsa* and in our personal relationships with the symbols. It cannot be argued that there is a critical impact and e ffect of the five symbols on the female (or male) individual. Developing a Sikh female hermeneutic is vitally important as my proposed interpretations provide dialogical interaction between the symbols and the self, seen as necessary in our socio-religious construction as Sikhs.

The *kacchahira*, (also known as *kacha*) or simple, loose, cotton shorts/undergarment (up the knees), is a practical garment. It is indicative and representative of a Sikh woman and man's consistent maintenance of a modest, virtuous, and moral character within the world, along with a spiritual and personal commitment to conjugal/partner fidelity, and it conflates the physical di fferences in human sexuality with one's duty to uphold that equality of commitment. Because the scriptures consistently integrate the physical and the temporal, the *kacchahira* affirms the ontological unity of mind (*man*) and body (*tan*) and disavows any duality. It is my suggestion that as a marker of the vow of a *Khalsa*, the *kacchahira* is *the* crucial symbol representing the breaking down of any divisions and barriers that contribute to gender politics. Prescribed in the exact manner to both women and men, its wearing indicates that a Sikh has a holistic understanding of the spiritual self as a natural sexual being. This article of faith demands strict adherence to the commitment to one partner throughout one's life—without taking away personal agency to be a practicing Sikh. This same adherence forbids male/patriarchal/misogynist dominance over a life partner and binds life partners in mutually ethical respect. (Singh 2005) suggests that "[t]he wearer of the guru's *kacherra* recognizes each body as the

home of the Divine (*harimandir*), and not a battleground for domestic violence, economic deprivation, forced sterilization, forced pregnancy, female feticides or honour killing" (p. 132).

The *kanga* or wooden comb is used in the morning and evening to groom a *Khalsa's* uncut hair (*keshas)* as bidden in Guru Gobind Singh's *Rahit Nama* (Virinder 2006). Twice-daily (*dono vaq<sup>t</sup>*) grooming using the *kanga* involves undertaking personally enduring reflection (*dhiraj*), silent meditation (*birti*). and focused prayer and introspection (*simran*). Grooming signifies a personal commitment to self (body) and society for purity of thought, personal hygiene, and spiritual discipline driven by a just mind. The *kanga* supports physical cleanliness and continuous rigor for a moral mind and gives timely order to the body and mind. Even before the *Khalsa* were enjoined to do so in 1699 by the Tenth Guru, women and men were already involved in the tradition (Jat custom) and rigor of character in relation to *kes* by maintaining uncut hair (McLeod 2008). The feminist ideal of personal physical discipline and spiritual rigour is perfectly in tune with the same immutable truth. Daily grooming of the uncut hair by using the *kanga* is symbolic of the removal or working toward a resolution of relationship entanglements and personal struggles.

The *Khalsa's* uncut hair on the body—*Kes*—represents the natural and physically harmonious commitment to see the body as the home of the divine, with a goal to simultaneously attain spiritual maturity along with the process of hair growth as a young adult. The *kes* (hair) on the head is protected by the wearing of a *keski* (small turban), which guards the *Dasam Duaar* (the Tenth Gate), a spiritual opening at the top of the head. The *keski* is further covered by a full dastar (turban/*pagh*), and these two conjoined articles of Sikh faith are significant, because they are the most visible and identify an independent-minded Sikh adherent who is committed to being moral, just, disciplined, and socially responsible. All Sikhs initiated into the *Khalsa Panth* keep their hair uncut, covering it with a *keski*. From a feminine re-understanding, as bearers of visual difference, *kes* and *keski* are sacred as a submission to the gender-neutral will of the divine. The turban declares sovereignty as a powerful identification of the *Khalsa—*and thus a Sikh embodies personal dedication to moral character, self-respect, courage, social justice, and piety.

The *kirpan* (small sword) is worn by the *Khalsa* on the left hip sheathed in a *gaatra* (over-the-shoulder holster). The *kirpan* claims to represent an egalitarian commitment for all Sikhs toward social justice, fighting oppression, defense of the weak, conquering narcissism, and maintaining personal dignity and personal power at all times with an unconquerable spirit (*chardi kala*). The word *kirpan* finds its origins in the word *kirpa*, meaning compassion, and *an*, meaning grace as exemplified in the idea of every Sikh being *sant*/*sipahi* (saint/soldier)—a tradition/responsibility that is accorded to all genders. The *kirpan* urges Sikh women and men to commit to courage that will allow her/him to defend anyone against oppression of any kind—be it by thought, action, or deed. This courage is justly codified both as internal (personal character and behaviour) and in various appropriate external responses. The *kirpan* demands that a Sikh's personal knowledge of the self recognizes the duality of subject and object. According to Guru Nanak, the sword is to be understood as a means to "tear away with the duality of subject and object, and connect us back with our essential Self" (Singh 2005, p. 117). The sword moves beyond its literal meaning to defend to be a symbol of knowledge and a woman who utilizes the sword [of knowledge] in such a manner is described as follows in the Sri Guru Granth, p. 1022: "By taking up the sword of knowledge, she fights against her mind and merges with herself" (Singh 2005, p. 117).

The *kara* (iron bangle worn on the wrist) is a symbol of dedication to one's faith and an acknowledgement of the circle of life in its simplest form of acceptance of the divine will. The *kara* is a representation of something that is intrinsically feminine (bangle, accessory) and has become traditionally bound to the 5 Ks. The *kara* is a universally connecting article of faith for all Sikhs, signifying a pledge of high moral thinking, humility, claim to identification, personal restraint, and gentility while acknowledging unity with an eternal and infinite spiritual universe, with the circle representing the impermanency of life in the life/death cycle. The *kara* also importantly elicits a commitment by the wearer toward honest and ethical duty, to perform noble acts in mind and in deed. The adornment that is reiterated in the *Rahit Maryada* is the steel bangle codified through the

*Khalsa*. The origin of the steel *kara* is found through the female body and her connection with the divine in the representation of an egalitarian code of conduct *and* belonging for all Sikhs. It demands that Sikhs of all genders be held to a high standard (of truthful living) and consciousness activation. Its impact as a singularly traditional female accessory in the five articles draws out the complimentary and cooperative nature of male and female binaries.

Although embodying symbols such as the *punj kakar,* having a personal relationship with the text of the Sri Guru Granth, seeking guidance through the Sikh *Rahit*, etc. liberate Sikhs from domination—these acts are not enough to guarantee freedom from the domination of patriarchal thought and practice. Emancipatory feminist thought establishes new patterns of behaviour, attitudes, and religious understanding to ensure that relations of power are shared between and amongs<sup>t</sup> genders. The clarion call to Sikh feminist thought has been attuned to by scholars, historians, and translators to produce much-needed perspectives and interpretations (Jakobsh 2014; Singh 2014a). (Singh 2000) correctly states:

"The Adi Granth as a scriptural text has inexhaustible hermeneutic potential. In oral as well as written exegesis, each generation of Sikh interpreters has drawn its meaning from differing perspectives. In fact, plurality of interpretations has remained part and parcel of the Sikh approach to the Adi Granth throughout history. Each encounter with the text of the Adi Granth provides a fresh experience of unfolding a divine mystery".

> (p. 287)

The Guru Granth provides the learner with a limitless pool of egalitarian emphasis that today faces an urgen<sup>t</sup> need to reach the spirit and mind of the female adherents of the faith. (Singh 2005) continues

"The symbols worn by the *Khalsa* are not weapons of war to spark violence in the public or domestic spheres. Nor are they tools that cut and divide us from the human family. Nor are they hand-me-downs from fathers and brothers. Our female understanding of the hair, the comb, the bracelet, the underwear, and the sword intimates and activates each wearer's consciousness of the Infinite and knowledge of our common humanity".

> (p. 178)

#### **4. Materials and Methods**

I rely on the Guru Granth and the *Sikh Rahit Maryada* as two original sources of both religious instruction and religious conduct respectively for all Sikhs. While there are many translations of the Guru Granth, as a Sikh, I can take full liberty to understand the text without any interpreters. The Tenth Guru—Guru Gobind Singh (1666–1708) "hailed the book as the Guru precisely to reiterate a personal and direct relationship between the individual and the text. It is imperative then that men and women access their scriptural Guru on their own" (Singh 2014a, p. 620). It is true that for many Sikhs, the Guru Granth gives "a sacred focus upon which to reflect and in the process discover the meaning of life as Sikhs. It [provides] a framework for the shaping of the Panth and [is] a decisive factor in shaping a distinctive Sikh identity" (Singh 2000, p. 281). As part of the *Panth* or collective and as a feminist, my personal and public identity is informed by how the sacred text speaks to my need to relate to the authority of the *Gurshabad* and the *Sikh Rehit Maryada* to my daily practice. As (Jakobsh 2003) suggests, "Analysis of the discursive structures in the formation of ritual identities from a gender perspective allows for a more complex understanding of the mechanisms of inclusion and exclusion" (p. 235). The *punj kakar's* everyday use, meaning, affect, materiality, corporality, and feminist hermeneutics are all relevant to our discourse in contemporary times.
