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I turn into the gates of the Gurusikh Temple on the Westminster Highway around noon the following day. The place is seething with activity, and I don a scarf, shed my shoes and tiptoe to the back of the prayer hall. A reading from the Sikh holy book, the Granth Sahib is in progress; the women and children sit on the deep blue carpet to the left, while the men are on the right. The women make up a shifting kaleidoscope of colours in their kurta-pyjama outfits of parrot green, bright orange, royal purple, inky blue and bubble-gum pink.
The reading draws to a close, and the congregation of perhaps 2,500 people, spills out onto the grounds. Everyone is invited to a free Indian vegetarian lunch, and the tantalizing smell of spicy potatoes, cauliflower and lentils wafts down a corridor where people are lined up, waiting for a table. Adults congregate in chat groups, kids shriek as they play tag, and a crowd of teenagers with decidedly Canadian accents, erupt with laughter at a commen
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