A Sikh's spiritual journey

This week the Faith Column focuses on the Sikh religion with Harwinder Singh describing his religion

“The Lord works in mysterious ways!” declared the preacher at Piccadilly Circus. Many of you may know who I am talking about as he seems to have become a fixture of the hustle and bustle at London’s most famous intersection. Middle-aged, white and somewhat street-wise, he looks a little like Robert Redford… until you hear his voice over the PA.

When I had first started commuting into central London to gain work experience at a myriad of film and production companies, I was cold and oblivious to my surroundings. I marched along in unison with my fellow Englishmen, muttering under my breath at the tourists who slowed our pace down to their own snail-like strolling. I would never have listened, nor tried to listen to the words that were being bellowed across the traffic over a simple wireless microphone.

Five years on and although my pace has not slowed, I have begun to take in the sounds and pictures that bombard me and my fellow Londoners at every turn. This is partly due to a hard-grafted education gained from working within the media industry and in particular an independent record label where I met some amazing individuals. But it is my journey in life as a Sikh that has mostly influenced the change in me to notice the Piccadilly Circus preacher.

A Sikh is described as a student or a disciple. But a student of whom, or what? Most of us can surmise that a Sikh is likely to be a disciple of Guru Nanak, the founder of The Sikh Way of life. But as I have come to find, it is what Guru Nanak represents and embodies that the Sikh is a student of: The Truth. This should not be misunderstood as a single, righteous proclamation of divinity, rather it is a reference to that which we call existence, reality and knowledge.

Everybody and everything is subject to the same principles and is governed by the same laws, it is simply that we have found differing ways over time to interpret these. Since graduating from University I began to spend more of my time reading and understanding the Guru Granth Sahib, the scriptural incarnation of Guru Nanak.

Little by little (sometimes merely a word at a time!) I have begun to recognise and practise Guru Nanak’s philosophy in my everyday life. Heightening my awareness to the beautiful game that is being played out around me is one such tenet that I have managed to harness.

Today, it is amazing to think that I had spent so many teenage years in slumber. My eyes were open and my ears could hear, but I was not listening nor was I able to see.

There is a wondrous thread of Divinity that weaves its way through our lives and our paths if we could just take the time to notice it. In my understanding, noticing precedes appreciation, which itself is a fore-runner for realisation.

If that is the case, then there are many stages of enlightenment that I am yet to achieve. Ten years from now, I will look back at this moment and wonder how I could’ve been so presumptuous to believe and write as I have done! With time comes experience and greater learning. Truly, the Lord does work in mysterious ways, but perhaps one day I will understand what those ways are and they won’t be so mysterious then. But as the Piccadilly Preacher, I along with the rest of the World continue to declare my knowledge and perception of reality as it is today. If I learn from it, then it has been worthwhile.

Harwinder Singh is a 26-year-old Law graduate turned film and TV producer. He is also a record label boss. Born in the UK to Punjabi parents, he been practising and studying the Sikh Way of Life for about 20 years.
David Young
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The Tories are the zombie party: with an ageing, falling membership, still they stagger on to victory

One Labour MP in Brighton spotted a baby in a red Babygro and said to me: “There’s our next [Labour] prime minister.”

All football clubs have “ultras” – and, increasingly, political parties do, too: although, in the case of political parties, their loudest and angriest supporters are mostly found on the internet. The SNP got there first: in the early days of email, journalists at the Scotsman used to receive bilious missives complaining about its coverage – or, on occasion, lack of coverage – of what the Scottish National Party was up to. The rest soon followed, with Ukip, the Labour Party and even the crushed Liberal Democrats now boasting a furious electronic horde.

The exception is the Conservative Party. Britain’s table-topping team might have its first majority in 18 years and is widely expected in Westminster to remain in power for another decade. But it doesn’t have any fans. The party’s conference in Manchester, like Labour’s in Brighton, will be full to bursting. But where the Labour shindig is chock-full of members, trade unionists and hangers-on from the charitable sector, the Conservative gathering is a more corporate affair: at the fringes I attended last year, lobbyists outnumbered members by four to one. At one, the journalist Peter Oborne demanded to know how many people in the room were party members. It was standing room only – but just four people put their hands up.

During Grant Shapps’s stint at Conservative headquarters, serious attempts were made to revive membership. Shapps, a figure who is underrated because of his online blunders, and his co-chair Andrew Feldman were able to reverse some of the decline, but they were running just to stand still. Some of the biggest increases in membership came in urban centres where the Tories are not in contention to win a seat.

All this made the 2015 election win the triumph of a husk. A party with a membership in long-term and perhaps irreversible decline, which in many seats had no activists at all, delivered crushing defeats to its opponents across England and Wales.

Like José Mourinho’s sides, which, he once boasted, won “without the ball”, the Conservatives won without members. In Cumbria the party had no ground campaign and two paper candidates. But letters written by the Defence Secretary, Michael Fallon, were posted to every household where someone was employed making Trident submarines, warning that their jobs would be under threat under a Labour government. This helped the Tories come close to taking out both Labour MPs, John Woodcock in Barrow and Furness and Jamie Reed in Copeland. It was no small feat: Labour has held Barrow since 1992 and has won Copeland at every election it has fought.

The Tories have become the zombies of British politics: still moving though dead from the neck down. And not only moving, but thriving. One Labour MP in Brighton spotted a baby in a red Babygro and said to me: “There’s our next [Labour] prime minister.” His Conservative counterparts also believe that their rivals are out of power for at least a decade.

Yet there are more threats to the zombie Tories than commonly believed. The European referendum will cause endless trouble for their whips over the coming years. And for all there’s a spring in the Conservative step at the moment, the party has a majority of only 12 in the Commons. Parliamentary defeats could easily become commonplace. But now that Labour has elected Jeremy Corbyn – either a more consensual or a more chaotic leader than his predecessors, depending on your perspective – division within parties will become a feature, rather than a quirk, at Westminster. There will be “splits” aplenty on both sides of the House.

The bigger threat to Tory hegemony is the spending cuts to come, and the still vulnerable state of the British economy. In the last parliament, George Osborne’s cuts fell predominantly on the poorest and those working in the public sector. They were accompanied by an extravagant outlay to affluent retirees. As my colleague Helen Lewis wrote last week, over the next five years, cuts will fall on the sharp-elbowed middle classes, not just the vulnerable. Reductions in tax credits, so popular among voters in the abstract, may prove just as toxic as the poll tax and the abolition of the 10p bottom income-tax rate – both of which were popular until they were actually implemented.

Added to that, the British economy has what the economist Stephen King calls “the Titanic problem”: a surplus of icebergs, a deficit of lifeboats. Many of the levers used by Gordon Brown and Mervyn King in the last recession are not available to David Cameron and the chief of the Bank of England, Mark Carney: debt-funded fiscal stimulus is off the table because the public finances are already in the red. Interest rates are already at rock bottom.

Yet against that grim backdrop, the Conservatives retain the two trump cards that allowed them to win in May: questions about Labour’s economic competence, and the personal allure of David Cameron. The public is still convinced that the cuts are the result of “the mess” left by Labour, however unfair that charge may be. If a second crisis strikes, it could still be the Tories who feel the benefit, if they can convince voters that the poor state of the finances is still the result of New Labour excess rather than Cameroon failure.

As for Cameron, in 2015 it was his lead over Ed Miliband as Britons’ preferred prime minister that helped the Conservatives over the line. This time, it is his withdrawal from politics which could hand the Tories a victory even if the economy tanks or cuts become widely unpopular. He could absorb the hatred for the failures and the U-turns, and then hand over to a fresher face. Nicky Morgan or a Sajid Javid, say, could yet repeat John Major’s trick in 1992, breathing life into a seemingly doomed Conservative project. For Labour, the Tory zombie remains frustratingly lively. 

Stephen Bush is editor of the Staggers, the New Statesman’s political blog.

This article first appeared in the 01 October 2015 issue of the New Statesman, The Tory tide