
Part 1: Alcoholism as a communal responsibility
In many Punjabi Sikh homes, alcohol is part of the celebration. It flows freely at weddings, birthdays, and family gatherings. It’s poured with pride, offered as a gesture of hospitality, masculinity, even joy. And yet, behind the laughter and music, behind the raised glasses, there are stories we rarely tell.
Stories of quiet suffering. Of parents and partners worrying. Of children learning to cope. Of individuals who once simply just wanted to belong.
Too often, when someone in our community struggles with alcohol, we turn inward with shame and outward with blame. We whisper about “that uncle who drinks too much” or “that aunty whose son is in rehab.” We label, isolate, and distance ourselves from the person – when the truth is, we should be looking at ourselves.
The hard but necessary truth is that alcoholism in the Punjabi Sikh community is not an individual failure. It’s a communal one.
It begins with us.
How many times have we served alcohol as a sign of respect? How many times have we praised someone for “holding their liquor” or encouraged one more round because it was “just a party”? How many of us have looked away when a family member started drinking too much, because it was “not our business?”
We’ve created environments where drinking is normalized, but admitting a drinking problem is shameful. Addiction takes root in this contradiction.
This isn’t about one person’s poor choices. This is about social habits, gender roles, and silences that we’ve inherited and continue to uphold.
Stigma’s hidden burden.
We speak of honour, of family name, of keeping things behind closed doors in our culture. But silence has a cost. It delays help. It deepens pain. It isolates those who are struggling and those who love them.
An individual battling addiction may feel like they have nowhere to turn because they’ll be judged. An individual coping with their partner’s alcoholism may stay silent because they fear what people will say. Children may grow up confused, learning that what hurts must also be hidden.
This isn’t just an individual burden. It’s the weight of a community that has yet to make healing more important than image.
Let me say that again – it’s the weight of a community that has yet to make healing more important than image.
Sikh Teachings
We’re taught that Divinity resides in us and we’re warned of intoxication. But not just intoxication of substances, but of ego, of pride, of distraction from Naam.
Guru Nanak didn’t shame people for their struggles. Guru Nanak walked with them and spoke of truth. He built Sangat as a place of reflection, connection, and collective responsibility.
So why are we still treating addiction as a personal flaw rather than a signal that our community needs healing?
A call to the Collective
If one person in our sangat is suffering, then it’s our collective duty to respond – not with judgment, but with Seva. Not with blame, but with Simran. Not by turning away, but by showing up.
What might this look like?
- Talking openly about alcohol misuse in our Gurdwaras, homes, and gatherings
- Supporting culturally safe programs
- Training community leaders to recognize signs of addiction and respond with compassion
- Offering peer-led support circles rooted in Sikh Values
- Modeling healthier ways of celebrating that do not centre around alcohol
And most importantly, it means shifting our gaze from the one who drinks to the reasons that we pour.
We heal together
The goal isn’t perfection. It’s truth. It’s courage. It’s the will to face what we’ve denied and to change what we’ve accepted as normal.
Let’s move towards asking the question – what’s happening amongst us that makes suffering so common and support so rare?
Truth begins with seeing clearly. Healing begins with walking together.
Let’s walk.
With love,
Gurmukh

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