Guru Gobind Singh Ji was sitting in the hall when a Sikh stood up to ask for something.
Say it, said Guru Ji.
November is over, said the Sikh, and December is here, and it gets colder every day. If you give the order, we could get blankets and quilts for people.
Guru Ji looked across at the man who kept the money and said: yes. Go ahead.
The treasurer looked uncomfortable.
Magnificent Guru Ji, he said, your orders are welcome, but this needs money. And your house is like a river, not a lake. A lake keeps its water. A river lets it all run through. Money comes in here and goes straight out again.
And Guru Ji said: the Lord gives, and gives, and gives. It is the ones who take who get tired.
Just then the guard at the door spoke up. Magnificent Guru Ji, may I say something?
Say it.
There is a man here, said the guard, who wants to give two thousand rupees. A tenth of his profits.
The man came forward with two bags, a thousand in each, put them down and went straight to Guru Ji's feet.
Tell me, said Guru Ji, if you want anything else.
We always want something, said the man. We are always beggars and you are always the giver. So I beg for this: let my mind stop wanting.
And Guru Ji said something to him that was very gentle and completely accurate.
Your eyes are asking for things, he said. And your tongue is asking to stop wanting things.
The man's head went down. You are right, he said.
Are you my Sikh? said Guru Ji.
I am now, said the man.
And before that? Whose were you?
I followed the saint of Nagaha, said the man.
Then how did you end up here, said Guru Ji.
And the man explained. He was a trader from Multan. He had been a follower of that saint for years. He had done well, and he had worked out a tenth of his profits, and here it was.
Then Guru Ji told him a small story about a field.
If a cow gets into a field and eats the crop, he said, and somebody comes along and drives the cow out, whose crop is it?
It still belongs to the man who owns the field. Not to the one who chased the cow.
The trader understood him at once, and answered beautifully.
The land is yours, he said. The field is yours. The crop is yours. Even the cow is yours. You are the trader here, and you are the one who saves people.
Then Guru Ji told him something about the saint he used to follow.
That saint of Nagaha, said Guru Ji, was blessed by Guru Nanak Dev Ji himself. He was devoted to Guru Nanak Dev Ji.
But the people who came after him have wandered off. They have taken up other ways and gone down their own road, and some of them have gone into partnership with rulers who are cruel to ordinary people. And it is the ordinary people who are suffering for it. That is what I have come to put right.
I have left that door altogether, said the trader. I have come to the door of Guru Nanak Dev Ji. I am already yours. Take me in. Give me the Lord's name and make me a Khalsa.
And Guru Ji, who never once made it sound easy, told him the truth.
Becoming Khalsa is hard, he said. You will keep your hair unshorn. You will take the amrit. And you will have to stand by the Lord's name and not wobble.
It is difficult. Go away and think about it properly.
And the trader said: my thinking is worth nothing.
You give me the Name. The unshorn hair will be your gift. If you hand me a sword, that is your kindness. And if you hand me a fan, or a broom, or a water pitcher instead, I will take that.
I am your servant, he said. Whatever you give me, I will carry.