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Coming To America Sikhs Make Their Mark

The Sikhs of Queens are mourning the loss of the space shuttle Columbia.
Why? Because it was a loss for the United States, the adopted homeland for a flourishing population of Sikhs, based largely in Richmond Hill.
"The significance of the Columbia for us is the same as the significance of being American," said Harpreet Singh Toor, the newly elected president of the Sikh Cultural Society.
This past weekend, the society held an elaborate memorial service for the shuttles seven crew members at its headquarters at 95-30 118th Street. Members of the community recited the 1,430 pages of the Sikh holy book, the Guru Granth Sahib, over a 48-hour period.
Members of the media were encouraged to attend the finale of the service on Sunday, February 9, as part of a large-scale public relations drive to educate New Yorkers, and Americans in general, about Sikhism, a monotheistic religion that developed in India in the 15th century.
Since the September 11 terrorist attacks, Sikhs have become the targets of a rash of bias crimes. Their traditional appearances turbans and full beards for men, head scarves for women have led to comparisons with Muslims, even though there are significant differences between the two religious groups. Shortly after 9/11, a Sikh was murdered in Arizona.
Sikh community groups have held dozens of events to promote general awareness about the tenets of their religion, which stresses meditating on the name of God, earning a living through hard work, and sharing ones earnings with those in need.
In December, the cultural society elected a new slate of leaders, including Toor, who hopes to use his two-year term in office to enhance the American publics understanding of his faith.
During last Sundays service, Toor stood in the corner of the cramped "gurdwara," or house of worship, as dozens of turban-clad congregants jockeyed to meet with the societys president about a variety of issues.
"I want people to fully understand what Sikhism stands for," he said, momentarily turning his attention from a group discussing a financial concern. "We believe in freedom, liberty and justice, and thats what the American Constitution stands for. Thats why we love this country."
The religions founder, Guru Nanak Dev ji, had a revelation at the end of the 15th century, a turbulent period in the Indian subcontinent, when Muslim invaders rampaged through the region and the Hindu caste system condemned many to abject poverty.
God told Guru Nanak that there is "no Hindu, no Muslim," stressing the unity of humankind. The Guru traveled extensively, preaching this message of unity and winning thousands of converts.
Today, there are about 25 million Sikhs, with most living in the Punjab region of India.
Toor, 48, came to New York from Punjab 20 years ago. At that time, there were only a few Sikhs in Richmond Hill. Now, almost 40,000 live in the Queens neighborhood, the largest Sikh community in the eastern United States.
And as with most groups of recent immigrants, there are inevitable cultural tensions when the first generation born in the new homeland contends with an American identity.
"We had a different way of looking at life in India," said Toor. "In our culture, we never question our elders." But here, the young have become used to a greater amount of independence.
"You ask your children to do something," the father of two continued, a smile forming under his thick beard, "and they say, why do I have to do it?"
But Toor also stresses that he has found "democracy in a real sense" in America, a far cry from deeply flawed, corrupt system of governance he remembers from his earlier life in India.
For instance, he speaks of his intense respect for the American flag, and his eyes widen with admiration for a Constitution that defends freedom and encourages diversity.
"We have been flourishing in an environment like this."
Indeed, the cultural societys membership has swelled to almost 6,000, as Sikhs continue to establish themselves in the tri-state area.
With the small, one-story structure on 118th Street unable to accommodate such numbers, another priority for the newly-elected president is to rebuild the gurdwara that burned down a year ago. The hollowed, blackened shell of the building stands next to societys headquarters.
Established in the early 1970s in a former church, the gurdwara was the first of its kind in the northeastern United States.
"It was a devastating loss," said Toor. "Sikhs from all over the world would come here for our gurdwara."
The cultural society is now working with the Buildings Department to get the necessary permits to begin construction on the gurdwara, a project that will likely take two years and at least six to eight million dollars.
Until then, local worshippers are using the societys headquarters, a significantly smaller space.
Hundreds of Sikhs filtered in and out of the building during Sundays memorial service for the Columbia crew. As a mark of respect for the the Guru Granth Sahib the "living" text that encompasses all the teachings of Guru Nanak and his nine successors those entering the gurdwara removed their shoes and washed their hands.
The prayer room is in the rear, a long room with a low ceiling, decorated with bright-colored streamers, creating a festive, Mardi Gras-like atmosphere.
The newly-arrived worshippers formed a line down the middle of the room, and, one at a time, bowed in front of the Guru Granth Sahib that sits on the palki, or altar.
"Its sort of like taking attendance," said Varan Joyt Singh, a junior at nearby John Adams High School. "Its like telling God, Im here for you."
The men and women then separated and sat on opposite sides of the room a cultural practice, according to Toor, and not a tenet of Sikhism, which promotes the equality of the sexes.
They faced the altar, participating in prayers and reading selections from the holy book, occasionally over the music of an harmonium and several tablas, Indian percussion instruments.
At the end of the service, everyone stood and recited an ardas, the principal Sikh prayer, asking for the Gurus blessing. The Sikh leading the prayer also made a reference to the crew of the Columbia.
As people moved out of the prayer hall, several men served lumps of a sweet, pudding-like food called karah prashad. The congregants accepted it with cupped hands, a sign of humility and respect.
In the front room of the gurdwara, a meal was then served, known as Langar, with each attendee sitting side-by-side while eating a North Indian vegetarian fare, including flat bread, peas, a white pudding, and fruits.
The meal following a prayer service is a powerful symbol, said Toor.
"It shows that everyone is equal. Even if you are a billionaire, when you come to a gurdwara, you are on par with everyone else. Someone who doesnt have a penny gets served the same as a billionaire."
Beyond its religious function, the gurdwara is a community focal point for Sikhs, providing a range of services, such as music and language instruction, including the teaching of English to recent immigrants. It can also provide meals donated and prepared by local Sikhs and a temporary living space for new arrivals or those passing through Richmond Hill.
Sartaj Singhs family came to the US in the early 1980s, and they spent several months in the gurdwara, gradually acclimating themselves to their new surroundings.
"When we first got here from India, we didnt know anything, anybody," said Sartaj, a Brooklyn College student, after Sundays service. "They helped us out here."
Now, Sartaj straddles the middle ground between his familys background and his adopted home. He wears a scraggy beard, a black, layered turban on his head and a khandu (a Sikh symbol with several sharp points) around his neck.
He has been learning more about his religion in recent years, while also getting involved with club promoting in Manhattan. And he hopes to study architecture, he says in his noticeable Brooklyn accent.
Like millions of immigrants before him, Sartaj is uniting two worlds and he is becoming an American.