As I walked past the Sukha Singh Mehtab Singh Chowk in Batala today, my heart swelled with pride and emotion. These names, so deeply cherished in Punjab, may not be known to everyone, but they carry a story that deserves to echo across the world, not just in Punjab.Sukha Singh and Mehtab Singh were not just warriors; they were beacons of hope, courage, and faith in a time when darkness threatened to swallow everything the Sikhs held dear. Their tale is one of defiance against tyranny, a reminder that even when the odds seem impossible, the human spirit can rise and shine. Let me take you back to their time, to a story that will stir your soul and inspire you to stand tall.
Picture a world where faith is under attack, where a community is hunted like prey. In the early 18th century, after the passing of Guru Gobind Singh Ji in 1708, the Sikh community faced relentless persecution from the Mughal Empire. Guru Gobind Singh Ji had declared the Guru Granth Sahib as the eternal Guru and entrusted the Khalsa—a brotherhood of saint-soldiers—to uphold justice, equality, and freedom. But this vision made the Sikhs a target. The Mughals, determined to crush their spirit, unleashed a campaign of terror.
Under Zakaria Khan, the Mughal governor of Punjab from 1726 to 1745, the Sikhs endured unimaginable cruelty. His gallā ghaṭṭo policy aimed to starve them economically, while bounties were placed on their heads: 10 rupees for information, 50 for killing a Sikh, and 80 for capturing one alive. Historical accounts describe cartloads of severed Sikh heads sent to Lahore, a grim display of Mughal power. By the late 1730s, the Sikh population had plummeted from over a hundred thousand to just a few thousand. Families were torn apart, and survivors were forced into forests and deserts, living off wild berries and tree bark. It was a time of near annihilation, yet the Sikh spirit refused to break.
In 1740, an act of unthinkable disrespect shook the Sikh community to its core. Massa Ranghar, a Rajput who had betrayed his people to serve the Mughals, was appointed caretaker of the Harmandir Sahib—the Golden Temple in Amritsar, the holiest site in Sikhism. Instead of honoring its sanctity, Massa turned it into a den of vice. He smoked hookahs, drank alcohol, and hosted dancing girls within its sacred walls, treating the temple like his personal pleasure house. This was not just sacrilege; it was a calculated move to crush Sikh identity and morale.
When news of this outrage reached Bhai Mehtab Singh and Bhai Sukha Singh, two devout Sikhs living in exile in the deserts of Bikaner, their hearts burned with righteous anger. Mehtab Singh, from Mirankot near Amritsar, came from a family steeped in devotion—his grandfather had taken Amrit directly from Guru Gobind Singh Ji. Sukha Singh, from Mari Kamboke near Gurdaspur, was born to Bibi Haro and Bhai Ladha, and his soul was equally bound to the Khalsa’s call for justice. They could not stand by while their sacred temple was defiled. Together, they vowed to act, knowing full well the price they might pay.
A Daring Plan Born of Courage
On August 11, 1740, Sukha Singh and Mehtab Singh embarked on a mission that would etch their names into history. Sikhs were banned from entering Amritsar, so they devised a clever plan. Disguising themselves as landlords from Patti, they carried bags filled with ground earthenware to mimic the weight of coins, claiming they were there to pay revenue. They tied their horses to a berry tree near the Harmandir Sahib—now revered as Lachi Ber—and approached the guards. The guards, fooled by their disguise, let them pass without suspicion.
Inside the temple, they found Massa Ranghar lounging arrogantly, surrounded by dancing girls and his complacent guards. The scene was a slap in the face to everything the Sikhs held sacred. With hearts pounding but spirits unshaken, Bhai Mehtab Singh threw the bags under Massa’s cot, declaring they contained the revenue. As Massa bent to inspect them, Mehtab Singh drew his sword and, with one swift, fearless stroke, severed Massa’s head. Sukha Singh stood guard, swiftly dealing with the stunned attendants to ensure their escape.
In a bold act of defiance, they mounted Massa’s head on a spear and rode through Punjab’s villages. This was not a display of violence but a powerful symbol of justice restored. The Khalsa had struck back, proving that their faith and dignity could not be trampled. The news spread like wildfire, rekindling hope in the hearts of Sikhs everywhere.
The Price of Justice
Sukha Singh and Mehtab Singh knew their actions would come at a cost. Zakaria Khan, enraged by their audacity, launched a manhunt. Harbhagat Niranjania, a traitor, identified Mehtab Singh, leading to the encirclement of his village, Mirankot. In 1745, Mehtab Singh was captured and executed in Lahore by being crushed between rotating wheels with sharp teeth—a brutal death he faced with unwavering faith. Sukha Singh met his end in 1753, fighting the Mughal army on the banks of the river Ravi. Their lives were sacrificed, but their legacy was immortal.
Their act of courage was a turning point. It showed the Sikh community that even in their darkest hour, they could fight back. Their story, recorded in texts like Prachin Panth Prakash by Ratan Singh Bhangu, Mehtab Singh’s grandson, became a rallying cry for resistance. It proved that faith, when paired with courage, could challenge even the mightiest empires.
A Legacy That Inspires Us All
Today, as I stand at the Sukha Singh Mehtab Singh Chowk, I see more than a road sign. I see two eternal flames burning bright against the darkness of oppression. Their story is not just Punjab’s; it’s a universal tale of standing up for what’s right, no matter the odds. Sukha Singh and Mehtab Singh remind us that true heroism is not about being fearless but about acting despite fear. They lived by the Khalsa’s timeless ethos: “Why fear death when you have taken the Amrit? When you take up arms for a just cause, do not fear death.”
Their legacy calls to us all—to rise against injustice, to protect what is sacred, and to believe that even the smallest among us can spark a revolution. Their names may not be on every tongue, but their spirit lives on, urging us to carry the torch of justice, faith, and courage forward.