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Life's Cradle

By Tashreet Kaur


“Who raised you?”

 “Who raised me?”

I couldn’t answer the question. even if it should’ve been obvious. It wasn’t so simple.

It was the older kids who held my delicate hand and gripped tight so I wouldn’t get lost in the sangat. It was the aunties doing seva who’d slip me a fresh pakora from the community kitchen. It was the amritdari who gave pershuad generously. It was watching how the trance of gurbani entangled the darbar sahib. It was the elderly who’d fix my slipping lupatta. It was the awe that flourished when I saw my cousins practicing gatka.

Who raised me?

The ones who call gurudwara home.


By Tashreet Kaur


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