Death Trails The Loyal

Simranjit Sokhi
Dec 25, 2025
3 min read

I used to think very selfishly when the month of December came around.

A younger version of me would ask, “Why is it that our religion has shaheeds? Why are we dying for others and never the other way around?”

I remember asking my brother when he was tying his dastar. He said, “We’ve been given a bloodline of warriors that not a lot of others get.”

At the time, that answer didn’t sit right with me. I remember thinking, “that’s not fair.”

Shaheedi is not about loss. It’s about refusal.

We refuse to live safely at the cost of truth. We refuse to protect only our own.

December makes me question: What do you do when righteousness guarantees suffering?

What I didn’t understand then was that Sikhi never measured responsibility through the lens of fairness. It never promised symmetry, only integrity.

Guru Gobind Singh Ji

Guru Gobind Singh Ji did not lead from safety, comfort, or distance. He led, knowing the cost would include his children, his parents, and eventually himself. There is something so terrifyingly fascinating about leadership that refuses attachment. Guru Pita didn’t love any less; he loved without allowing love dilute duty. “ਪੰਥ ਵਸੇ ਮੈਂ ਉਜੜਾ” — May the Khalsa Panth flourish, even if I am destroyed. Only the King of Kings would dare to say that. Commitment to the Truth does not pause to consider who will be spared.

The Sahibzade

When I think of the Sahibzade, I don’t think of innocence.

I think of clarity.

They knew who they were before the world tried to rename them. They were raised to recognize injustice and to meet it without bargaining for survival. They weren’t brave because they were young. They were brave because they understood exactly what was being asked of them and answered without negotiation.

Mata Gujar Kaur Ji

Mata Gujar Kaur Ji represents a different kind of strength. To lose everything and still not intervene with the responsibilities Akaal Purakh assigns, to not plead, bargain, or break — this isn’t passive suffering. This is discipline. This is submitting to Hukam with full consciousness, not resignation.

Guru Tegh Bahadur Sahib Ji

Guru Tegh Bahadur Sahib Ji chose shaheedi knowing the direction it would set his family to walk. He didn’t announce the ending, but he understood that his decision would shape generations who would rather face death than compromise conscience.

That choice didn’t end with him. It began a lineage of warriors.

Although this blood runs in me, my eyes still well up when I think about how much my Gurus gave up for people like me.

I think about what I want to live up to, what I want to achieve, and most importantly, what words I would deserve to speak when Guru Gobind Singh Ji was composing shabads in praise of Maharaj while separated from his own family. I picture myself watching him in the jungle, aware that such a presence is beyond comprehension. I know that such noor would stretch for miles, and I would never return unchanged after such darshan.

December isn’t about mourning.

It’s a reminder to measure ourselves. It’s a moment we ask whether we’re choosing truth even if it endangers comfort. Are we raising children who recognize injustice without being taught to fear it? Would we endure even when no one’s watching, knowing Akaal Purakh always is?

Shaheedi isn’t just inherited.

It is chosen, again and again.