A Sikh peasant was noticed continuously to utter the Name of God- “Glory, Glory”-and they of the earth asked him why he repeated the same word to no purpose. “I am not quite well,” said he; “my skin smarts, it burns; I feel sharp needles piercing me all over, it is very painful. The air burns me; I perspire, I feel sick; I cry-no one can save me from this hell-fire. And brothers! the only cure for me is this ‘useless repetition’ of this pebble-like name ‘Wah Guru’, ‘Wah Guru’. The only cure for me is this repetition of ‘Glory’, ‘Glory’ that you think useless. My religion is this licking of saltless rocks.” With this utterance, I feel as if I am having a dip in the Himalayan Ganga.