Saturday the 21st of April 2001 was a nice pleasant day in New York - not too hot, not too cold. Just right for a stroll outdoors. And that is what we did. The best estimates say that perhaps 10 to 12,000 Sikh men, women and children marched down Broadway in the heart of downtown New York City.

It was a sea of saffron - turbans, scarves, keskis and dupattas. There were even saffron or akali blue T-shirts emblazoned with khandas and other insignias asserting Sikh presence on the streets of New York.

Fourteen years ago when a handful of Sikhs thought of a Sikh day parade in New York, it was a rainy day that attracted perhaps 500 to a thousand Sikhs. The Muslims parade every year, as do the Puerto Ricans and the Irish. The Indian immigrants, too, parade yearly, usually led by a celluloid idol from Bollywood with Indian politicians on the reviewing stand. (If an Indian parade is led by a Bollywood star, that is as it should be. I think the only glue that unites the diverse people of India into a one single nation is the Hindi movie industry and little else.) The events of 1984 had frayed if not sundered ties between the political entity that is India and the Sikh-Americans. Sikhs no longer felt welcome in the Indian parade, nor did they want to participate. So why not a parade where the Sikhs could assert their own identity as a nation, highlight their own presence, their culture, their religion, their uniqueness as a nation, clearly delineated from the political reality that is India. And that is what they have been doing every year for 14 years in their own way. New York is uniquely a city of parades.

Sikhs do nothing without the reassuring presence of Guru Granth Sahib. Starting at 39th street and Broadway, the parade was led by a five Sikhs carrying the Nishan Sahib. Then came a flatbed carrying a palki in which was ensconced the Guru Granth Sahib. People thronged to pay obeisance and receive dry fruit.

I counted 14 floats, some quite imaginative; one was a nicely finished wooden replica of the Golden temple. Themes from Sikh history were highlighted. The systematic abuse of human rights in present day India was not neglected. There were five professional bands hired from the local schools. There was a batch of over 40 young Sikhs - learners at and products of the Khalsa Karate Academy run by Gurvinderpal Singh, who holds a black belt. Perhaps now, 14 years later, it is time to give awards to the best floats, set up some competition between various gurdwaras for the most attractive, effective message or theme. For the first time, a semi-consistent effort resulted in many children and women sporting coordinated uniforms and outfits; for some reason the men in the parade seemed not to have caught the spirit.

From 39th street we marched to Madison Square Park on 26th street. The distance is little over three-quarters of a mile. But I don't know if I should really call it a parade. We ambled down the streets, sometimes three or four abreast, sometimes in small nests busy in our private conversations, often leaving to join other groups to greet friends and returning to rejoin others. We made it to the end jostling and greeting each other, oblivious of any bystanders. It seemed as if we were there not for New Yorkers who were standing on the streets wondering about us but for ourselves and for our friends. It was as if it was our picnic and we were not going to bother with any others who might be near. This was our day and our show and no one else was going to horn in. No one was going to rain on our parade.

At the end of the journey was a raised stage. Any one who was anyone in the Sikh community or Sikh politics across the United States and Canada was there to make ritual note of our history and our aspirations. The Indian government was appropriately berated; the need for an independent Khalistan was routinely saluted. But it seemed that the speakers were less concerned about what they said and more with being acknowledged as leaders. It seemed more geared towards being seen and to see others as movers and shakers of our destiny. Many speeches that remained unheard may have been more profitably left undelivered as well.

An army, they say, marches on its stomach. The Khalsa is an army and the Sikhs have a martial tradition. Our gurdwaras do not exist without the traditional langar. The parade may have been held on the city streets of the new world but it remained true to Sikh tradition.

Busloads of Sikhs came from all the states on the eastern seaboard, from Massachusetts to North Carolina. Our local gurdwaras, too, leased several buses. True to form we were handed boxed snacks as we boarded the buses for a scant 45-minute ride. As we got off the buses, packages of dry fruit and drinks were waiting to help us recover from the bus trip. As we walked the half-mile route mounds of fruit, juices, nuts, mithai and all kinds of goodies sustained our bodies and spirits. At the park an unending supply of langar awaited us. One can only marvel at the energy, dedication and organizational skill that went into such an undertaking - feeding better than 10,000 people with a variety of langar which would be the envy of a highly respectable restaurant, all within two to three hours. I don't think anybody but Sikhs, with a 500-year tradition of langar to mold them, could do this.

There was even an army of young Sikhs who were clearing the bulging garbage bags as soon as they were filled. This was necessary for a few years ago the Parade Committee was handsomely fined by New York City for saddling the City with tons of randomly strewn garbage.

New York has more parades than one can count, but none gives away free food. Many New Yorkers were fascinated by this and joined in. Here was our opportunity but we had little literature to hand out that briefly and clearly spelled out what we are, what we believe, and what was going on in the streets.

It is two days later today as I write this and the local press apparently took absolutely no notice of the event. This means that we have not succeeded in building any bridges with the community around us. It was in the streets but it was designed more for our own community and not for those who were not Sikh.

Yet the parade was not without meaning. It accomplished a great deal. My Sikh spirit soared at the sight of thousands of Sikhs. It was not always like this. In 1960 when I landed in New York, there were perhaps three Sikhs in town and that is counting me. Now our presence on the streets powerfully asserts that we are here. We, too, have a stake in this country and its culture. But we still have to define our niche and our message. Yes we are here but is there anything we want to say? I hope we will define enough of a sense of self to have something to say for our presence.

Yes, things were not always like this. I hope things will not always remain like this.

Fun and food was had by all.

Dr. Inder Jit Singh is Professor & Co-ordinator in Anatomy, New York University. Among other publications, he is the author of two books: 'Sikhs and Sikhism: A View With a Bias' and 'The Sikhs Way: A Pilgrims Progress'.

I.J. Singh is on the editorial advisory board of 'The Sikh Review', Calcutta and 'The Encyclopedia of Sikhism', Punjabi University, Patiala.