Explore

Japji Sahib at a truck stop

3:50am at a truck stop outside Moose Jaw, minus four, the engine ticking as it cools. Head covered, phone propped on the dash, I recite Japji Sahib the way my Bapu ji did on the farm in Punjab: slowly, never racing the words. Out here it's just me, the reefer units humming, and frost on the windshield like lace. People think the road is lonely. Not at amrit vela. Waheguru is in the quiet before the diesel starts. Then an Ardas for everyone on the highway today, the ones I'll pass and never meet. Safe roads, sangat.