One morning, in a country called Ruhel Khand, Guru Nanak Dev Ji told Bhai Mardana Ji that they would have to be apart for a while.
Bhai Mardana Ji cried.
I was nobody, he said. A singer. You picked me up and kept me and fed me and forgave me every time I slipped. Please do not send me away.
Last night, said Guru Ji, I heard crying.
I went out and there was nobody there. Then I closed my eyes and heard it again. Three times. There are people here being made to suffer, and their tears have fallen on my chest, and I must stay. This is work your heart could not stand to watch.
So Bhai Mardana Ji bowed and went off into the forest by himself.
And when he had gone, something changed.
The light that always hung about Guru Ji's face went back inside him. What was left on that stone platform in the drizzle was an ordinary young man, strongly built, alone, with nothing.
Along the road came a rider.
He slowed when he saw the figure, and something in him hesitated a moment. Then he looked properly and thought: a young man, out here alone, no weapons, lost. He would fetch a good price.
He got down and took hold of Guru Ji's wrist. You are my slave, he said. Walk behind me. Do not try to run.
And Guru Ji got up with the same calm face and walked behind him.
At the house, the man's wife came out and stared.
Where did you get him, she said. Do not sell him. Somewhere there is a mother who will die of it, and a sister, and a wife. Look at his hands. He has never done hard work in his life. Keep him. Treat him like a son.
Be quiet, said her husband. I will get Arab horses for this one.
And the next day he took him to the market, and the bidding went up and up, and Guru Nanak Dev Ji was sold for two Arab horses.
His new owner was a man everybody in that district called a saint.
He had followers who came and bowed and left money. He had money brought in from the villages whether people wanted to give it or not, and men who robbed travellers on the roads and brought him the takings. And every morning, very early, he made a great show of getting up to bathe, so everybody would go on believing.
For which he needed somebody to carry the water. Which is what the new slave was for.
So before dawn Guru Ji walked down to the well with the pot.
And the well was dry.
He went to the next well. That was dry too. They tried well after well, all over that town, and there was not a drop of water in any of them.
By daylight the place was in a panic. People had a little water in their houses and no idea where the next would come from, and everybody's face had gone grey with worry.
Except one.
The new slave went about his morning quite cheerfully, and some of the sharper people noticed and mentioned it to his owner. Look at your man, they said. Everyone else is terrified and he has not turned a hair.
That evening they sent him for water again, and again there was none, and he came back in the dark carrying the empty pot.
And the owner, watching him come, saw a glow around him in the darkness, and saw that the pot was not quite resting on his head.
And the man's legs went from under him. He was down on the ground at Guru Ji's feet saying forgive me, forgive me, I do not understand what is happening.
Guru Ji drew his feet away.
Everybody here does as you tell them, he said. Tell your god to send the water.
I have no god who listens to me, said the man.
Then how, said Guru Ji, have you told this whole countryside that everything is in your hands.
You locked up people who had done nothing. You sold them like animals. You took hold of quiet people who were looking for God and made them into your servants.
Goodnight. He could have emptied those wells from anywhere. He went and stood in that house first.