Leaving the tight confines of Varanasi we board our flight to the north western state of Punjab; breadbasket to the rest of India and home to the largest Sikh community in the country. Colorful turbans and long beards are everywhere and I notice how much larger in stature the Sikhs are (often topping six feet) compared to the Hindus of Varanasi. Because I'm from Brampton, Ontario -home to one of the largest Sikh diasporas in the world- I feel right at home; half expecting to bump into old high-school friends and acquaintances.

We are staying in the state capital of Amritsar, and after Varanasi's rather intense introduction to India, I find it temperate in climate and pace -a most welcome change. Transport is still absolutely manic however, and on the way from the airport our driver shoves the car remorselessly into any and all gaps as motorcycles zip about, tuktuks careen and everyone blasts their horns mercilessly in the belief that it will speed the flow of traffic.

There are two main attractions in Amritsar, the splendid Harmandir Sahib or the Golden Temple and Wagah Attari which is the closing of the Pakistani/Indian border.

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Before one can even come to lay eyes upon Sikhism's holy of holies, there are a number of preparatory steps to take. One: the head must be covered. Vendors outside sell Sinbad style bandannas but I bring a scarf that was a gift from my cousin NY. Two: no shoes allowed, they're unclean and must be checked in. I hand in my grotty Converse in exchange for a chit and feel bad for the attendant that must handle them. Three: feet must be clean. Each of the four entrances to the Golden Temple have shallow troughs of water through which one must walk and purify the feet.

As I walk to the entrance, the expanse of marble cool under the soles of my feet, I am struck by how immaculate the place is. Groups of Sikh volunteers scrub the white marble on hand and foot while others polish and sweep. The effort shows with the gleaming surfaces of the Harmandir glowing warmly as the translucent marble is heated by the sun.

It's ALL marble

Entering the complex, the Golden Temple is in full view, sitting resplendently within a giant pool of holy water and linked to the encircling marble path by a long causeway, crowded with pilgrims who are kept cool by gilded fans as they murmur to themselves in silent prayer, moving ever so slowly to the object of their pilgrimage. Devotees take plunges in the water, known as The Pool of Nectar, as large koi fish of varying colors swim languidly at the edges. It all combines to give a powerful impression of palpable reverence and sanctity, no doubt the intention of the Harmandir's architect.

The line to the temple itself is long and while waiting I am befriended by a young Sikh who patiently indulges my curiosity and tells me about the Harmandir and its sacred waters. Speaking to him makes the two hour wait pass quickly and our conversation is interrupted only once, when I am stopped by a temple minder in bright orange garb who calls me out of line to fix my headscarf. In a few deft movements my scarf has turned into a tight fitting turban. "Now you look like a MAN" he says in satisfaction, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

It's a long wait to get inside but is totally worth it

Before long I cross the temple threshold into the opulent interior where the gold is everywhere, but so is silver, platinum, gemstones and jewels, silk, and a giant crystal chandelier. Every inch of the three levels are either plated or encrusted and it's enough to make a Saudi prince blush. In the cordoned off centre sits the holy book of Sikhs amid tabla playing musicians on plush cushions. And as I watch, the money literally pours in as hundreds of devotees throw rupees on the floor before it is swept away by a broom wielding minder. Given that the temple is open from 6am-2am and enjoys a steady stream of pilgrims throughout, the donations must be in the millions which makes sense of the Harmandir's immaculacy.

If you ever come to see the Golden Temple, you absolutely must come back and see it at night. Here's why:

My dad was temple'd out by the time we went back to see the Golden Temple and waited for us outside. His loss

During evening hours, floodlights shine off the Harmandir's gilded siding and its effulgence is made all the more dazzling by its shimmering reflection in the inky black waters that surround it. Of my entire trip so far, the Golden Temple is easily the most arresting sight of any wrought by human hands.

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The closing of borders between Pakistan and India is a remarkable sight not only for its bombastic displays of nationalism, but once you come to understand that these two countries absolutely hate each other, the fact that these carefully choreographed ceremonies manage to take place in relative harmony every single day is astonishing.

When we arrive at the entrance to the bordergate, large crowds of locals have already formed and an air of barely contained excitement permeates the throng. People are here to witness a spectacle between two bitter enemies and so the excitement here has a nationalistic bent. Often, passionate cries of "Hindustan!" can be heard followed by cheers from the crowd and much flag waving.

Presiding military officials makes half-hearted attempts to keep the crowd from getting too riled up, but given the atmosphere, it's impossible not to. While subjected to no less than a half-dozen security checks, music blares from speakers, creating an atmosphere of energy and tension which slowly works the crowd into a frenzy. By the time we arrive at the border itself, people are in a state of near apoplexy and the 1,000+ crowd easily fills out the stadium seating.

Surprise! Lots of people

It has all the atmosphere of a Superbowl half-time show and, in the lead up to the main event, there are displays of showmanship with flag bearers, somersaulting acrobats and crowds dancing to the pulsating beats of "Jai-Ho". All the while, a mic weilding MC chants patriotic slogans directed across the border.

When the main event finally kicks off soldiers in contrasting regalia (Indians in their customary khaki and the Pakistanis in intimidating black) goosestep to the border gate performing NFL worthy high kicks and stamping the ground to a well timed bass drum for emphasis.

One of the many security checks on the way to see the Wagah Attari

To their counterparts across the barrier they make threatening gestures, clench fists and yell aloud, playing it up for the crowds from whom they evoke excited cheers. This goes on for 20 minutes accompanied by drum rolls and crashing cymbals. With the crowds worked up into such a fervor, the whole situation is a tinderbox of repressed religious tensions and historical animosity from which there is no backing down. A stray bullet at this point would be catastrophic, setting off a a chain of events that would surely spell The End for this traveler. I quietly plot my escape route.

The ceremony comes to a close with more stamping, yelling, a bugle call, the descent of flags (carefully drawn so that one is never higher than the other) and finally, a shutting of the gates. This is met with wild applause, fist pumps and fading calls of "Hindustan Zindabad!" The spectacle over, both crowds walk away happy in the knowledge that each side has given the other a sound trouncing and the atmosphere of tension gives way to one of triumph.

My father is of the opinion that the Pakistani/Indian border guards are secretly good friends. Having put in an honest day's work, they soothe strained voices over cold beers and relieve sore soles with feet upon the table in a kind of real life Ralph Wolf and Sam Sheepdog of Looney Tunes fame. It's a charming thought but the following week's suicide bombing where 55 people would lose their lives serves as a sobering reminder that despite these quaint performances, the animosity still runs deep.

Anyway, what I've described above doesn't come close to relaying what it was like there. The Wagah Attari has to be seen to be believed. Thank goodness for the internet then.

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A few photos. Enjoy.

Sikh warriors are known for their ferocity. A lot of them have taken the last name "Singh" which translates to "Lion"

The "Nectar" that surrounds the Golden Temple is said to have amazing properties. It also makes for photogenic opportunities

A dip in sacred waters

Three kids hard at work

A uniformed Border Security Force guard. If you watch the video I've linked above, you'll see that they've got flood pants on as well

My favorite of the lot. I watch this carpenter work for twenty minutes while my parents did some shopping. When he went to take his break I asked to take his photograph