Crown of Martyrdom – Biography Sain Kanwarram
Crown of Martyrdom – Biography Sain Kanwarram
Kanwarram was a staunch champion and advocate of Hindu-Muslim unity. He served more Muslims that than of the Hindus. Even some time his people asked why you serve more Muslims than the people of your own caste and others. Kanwar would reply all are the creation of one God and it is irony of fate that Kanwar was assassinated by the Muslims that should hang down the head of Muslims in shame.
Story goes that once some people at Sukkur had beaten blue and black, a son of the Pir of Bharchoondi. He was a fanatic and bigoted Peer and openly incited the Muslims against the Hindus. His followers were highly stung fellows and Hindus were scared of them. After getting a good beating from the people at Sukkur when this son of the above Peer returned home, the Peer got infuriated. He called on a meeting of his tribe and after giving them a fiery speech it was decided to avenge attack on the Peer’s son by killing a prominent man of the Sindhi Hindus. At that time who was more prominent than Bhagat Kanwarram? The sword had to fall upon his head. His wings had to be clipped and his divine music had to be smothered. The distant muffled music of the battlefield of Karbala was heard when the prince prophet of Islam waged a war against the aggressors to establish a reign of right. Mohammad must have been shedding tears in his grave, where were the Hindus then? Why did they not approach the government for protection? Oh! Cursed are these Hindu-Muslim riots, which have been disfiguring and degrading our country for centuries?
There are always good people in every community to the surprise of the readers and conspire to kill Kanwarram was leaked out and reported by a God fearing good Muslim. Kanwar laughed it off and completely ignored it. The news however spread, Hindus requested Kanwar to keep arms with for protection. Kanwar laughed and said “No, if God wants me to die, no guns can save me; if God wants me to live no guns can kill me.” This reminds me about the Holy words of Raman Maharshi “you can not check the events. Whatever is going to happen, it will happen, however efforts you make to avoid it and whatever is not going to happen you can not make it to happen.” However, the prominent Hindus moved the Sindh Government for a license for gun for Kanwar’s protection. Kanwar who never even wielded a stick; did not like this idea but after much persuasion, he allowed two hefty armed Hindus to accompany him wherever and whenever he went out. Kanwar himself was above all fear of death, because he had already conquered a bodily death he had conquered all the five enemies of man Kama, Krodha, Lobha, Moha, Ahanka. He was dead while living in the spiritual parlance and divine language whether death was in the form of cup of poison, edge of sword, bullet from gun, rope scaffold. He echoed the sentiments of Christ “whatsoever will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall loose it, but whoever shall loose his life for my sake, the same shall save it.”
Kanwarram had an appointment in Manjhand. He took the town by storm on the last day, he sung ‘Maroo the song of death’ or a funeral or melancholy song. Kanwar wept while singing and the multitude wept. It was a symphony of sadness. From Manjhand he came to Dadoo. Here he said to one of his disciples, “Kirtan’s time is over and my time is also over”. When pressed to explain, he avoided it. In Dadoo, again he sang Maroo. He told his listeners “today I am singing Maroo for myself, because I am having a vision of somebody for beyond taking away my body”. People got suspicious.
In Dadoo while he was taking his meals, a morsel of food fell down from his hands “my bread in this world is over now”. He said and got up. What prophetic worlds!
When Kanwarram came to the station there was a great luster on his eyes. Some screen joy was in his heart. Some divine ecstasy was dancing in his eyes. He was splendid, supreme and sublime. He boarded the train. The train came to Larkana from where it reached the Ruk station, the fate full station. He had to change the train here to reach Sukkur on way back to his village. At Ruk station, he came on the platform. Two Muslims armed with guns, came to him and asked him his name. Kanwar readily supplied the information and gave them Grapes as “Prasad”. Kanwar blessed them and said “victory is yours!” They bowed and got the blessings from the Saint. Kanwar assured the assistant of their victory that is his own death at their hands! Some say that Kanwar had a premonition of his death at the hands of these very people and had he taken precautionary measures and steps, probably his death might have been averted but for how long! And moreover which death is preferable! To die as a sick man, cringing with fever, being stricken with paralysis or suffer from cancer or to die like a hero, a gallant Spartan for some noble cause even at the hands of some assassin! Nag Mahasay, by his years of old Sadhanas, possessed psychic powers through which he could transfer a patient’s disease to his own body. When he approached Ramkrishna Paramhansa with a request that Nag was prepared to cure the great sage’s body, Ramkrishna pushed him away saying “Oh, yes I know you could do that”. Nevertheless, Ramkrishna did not go to come in the way of God and his life why should Kanwar try to save his life?
After giving blessings, the assailants Kanwar boarded the train along with Bhai Krishandass, Bhai Sital and others and also Saint Kanwarram’s younger daughter Sushila and others. Usually Kanwar used to sit in the compartment towards the platform side, but this time he sat on the other side by the side of window facing the jungle. The signalman waved his green flag, the guard blows the whistle, the motorman started the engine and hardly had the train left the platform when the guns started blazing and bullet hit Kanwar on the forehead. Kanwar was already in Samadhi and did not utter a single word and fell down in a pool of blood.
The red blood of the martyr, which always waters the tree of liberty gushed forth and embraced him tightly and warmly. Blood and Kanwar, Kanwar and blood were intermingled with each other! Like Mahatma Gandhi and Indira Gandhi, he attained martyrdom. There was a clamor and the train stopped but murderers ran away. The police was called immediately to track the culprits, but they started taking notes of the witnesses. Had the legal notes writing been set aside and had common sense prevailed, the murderer could have been caught and nabbed if the police may have rushed after them in the nearby jungle opposite the Ruk station. First aid was given to Kanwar on the spot but the flow of blood would not stop. His companions were advised to take him to Sukkur for immediate medical relief and expert treatment. However, Kanwar breathed his last at Aaraen station due to blood loss and shock. Telegrams and telephones were immediately sent to Sukkur. Kanwar’s Soul had already flown to the heavenly abode of his Guru Saint Satram Puri. Even in the lap of death, Kanwar had a smile on his lips, serenity on the face, as if he was still blessing the assailants.
There was a seething and creeping mass of humanity at Sukkur. Everybody was bare headed. Many admirers and disciple had hair cut and wore black cloths (signs of mourning). Everybody was sad. Men wept, women wept, baggers wept. The cobber, weaver, the widow, orphan, the prince, pauper, the mighty, and law broke into sobs. There were stifled sobs and open tears when the Civil Surgeon of Sukkur was operating on the dead Kanwa’r body taking out the bullets cum postmortem he broke down and wept like a child in front of the nurses and other medicos. The great Mahatma of Sadhubela Ashram of Sukkur, Swami Harnamdas wept over Kanwar’s body. Hindus and Muslims joined together to console each other over their personal loss who would now look after the crippled and forlorn? Who would mend the broken and bruised hearts? Who would give bread to the hungry, cloth to the unclouded and orphan, money to poor and needy? Poor women cursed their fate. The pride of Sindh was shot dead. The son of Sindh was killed. A Saint and man of the masses were assassinated. When there was countrywide mourning on the death of Keats, Shelley wrote ‘Adonais’ in the 39th stanza of which he says:
“Peace, Peace! He is not dead, he doth not sleep
He hath awakened from the dream of life,
It is we, who lost in stormy visions, keep
With phantoms an up refutable strife
And in mad trance; strike with our spirit’s knife.
Invulnerable nothings, we decay
Like corpses in a charnel fear & grief.
Convulse us and consume us day by day,
And cold hopes swarm like
Worms within our living clay.