In the bustling heart of Delhi, where centuries of history blend with the chaotic rhythms of modern life, stands Gurudwara Bangla Sahib—an oasis of tranquility. But beyond the spiritual peace, one of its most extraordinary contributions is its Langar, the community kitchen that serves more than just food. It serves a deeper purpose through a tradition that dates back over 500 years.

Having spent considerable time speaking with the Gurudwara administration and even serving food there myself during several of my visits, what truly sets it apart is not only the scale and efficiency but also the stories behind the people who keep this sacred kitchen running day and night.

Seva: a living tradition rooted in service

The concept of Langar began with Guru Nanak Dev Ji, the founder of Sikhism, who believed that all people—regardless of caste, creed, gender, or wealth—are equal in the eyes of God. To demonstrate this, he instituted the practice of serving free meals in gurudwaras (Sikh temples), where everyone would sit on the floor, side by side, to share the same food. It was a revolutionary idea at the time, especially in a society as hierarchical as medieval India.

Fast forward to today, and the Langar at Gurudwara Bangla Sahib continues this proud tradition. Every single day, the kitchen feeds nearly 30,000 people. On weekends, festivals, or special occasions, this number can swell to over 100,000. The meal is simple but fulfilling—dal (lentil soup), roti (flatbread), sabzi (vegetable curry), and sometimes kheer (a rice-based dessert).

When I spoke to volunteers during one of my visits, I was struck by their humility. A middle-aged man rolling rotis shared, “This is the least I can do. I come every weekend to serve because it brings me peace.” For him, and countless others, working in the kitchen is a form of seva, or selfless service—an integral part of Sikhism. And it is this spirit of service that has made the Langar such a powerful institution.

Scaling an operation: how the kitchen feeds thousands daily

It’s easy to romanticize the idea of feeding thousands, but the logistics behind it are staggering. The Gurudwara’s kitchen runs with the precision of a military operation, but the atmosphere is warm and welcoming. Massive vessels, some large enough to bathe in, bubble with steaming dal and boiling rice.

Tandoors work overtime to churn out thousands of rotis, while volunteers peel and chop mounds of vegetables—cabbages, onions, potatoes—that seem to stretch endlessly.

Every day, around 4,000 kilograms of flour, 1,500 kilograms of lentils, and nearly 2,000 kilograms of rice are consumed. These figures increase drastically on weekends. The kitchen never stops—food is served 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

When I asked one of the supervisors about how they keep track of it all, he laughed and said, “It’s all God's work. We don’t measure success in numbers but in the smiles of the people who come to eat. But yes, there is a lot of math involved behind the scenes.” Behind that modesty is an incredibly well-organized system of donations and volunteer management.

One thing that stood out to me during my conversations was how food is never stored for more than a day. Everything is cooked fresh, with leftover ingredients being distributed to other charities or shelters in the city. It’s a zero-waste kitchen—efficient and sustainable.

The heart of Langar: a meal that feeds more than just the appetite

While the numbers are impressive, it’s the experience of eating at the Langar that leaves a lasting impact. Walking into the langar hall, you are greeted by rows of people sitting cross-legged on the floor, waiting to be served. There is no VIP section, no special treatment. Everyone—from the homeless to the wealthy—is served the same meal with the same level of care and dignity.

The food, although simple, is delicious. The dal is rich and hearty, cooked slowly to bring out the depth of flavor. The rotis are soft and fresh, made by volunteers working tirelessly at the tandoor. Sabzi, usually a seasonal vegetable curry, is packed with nutrients. It’s a meal that fills the stomach, but more importantly, it fills the heart.

Volunteers: the lifeblood of the kitchen

The Langar would be impossible to sustain without its army of volunteers, or Sevaks. Each one brings their own unique story and motivation. I met a young college student who had been volunteering every weekend for two years. “I come here to remind myself of what's important. It helps me stay grounded in the middle of all the noise,” he said.

Another volunteer I spoke to was a businessman who had faced severe financial difficulties a few years ago. “When my business was failing, I came here for peace of mind. Now that I’m back on my feet, I return to give back what I received.” His story is not unique—many people who have been helped by the Gurudwara in tough times return to the Langar as volunteers. On special occasions, like Guru Nanak’s birthday or Baisakhi, the number of volunteers triples. Families, groups of friends, and even tourists join in, contributing in any way they can—whether it’s washing dishes, serving food, or chopping vegetables.

Sustainability and community support: powered by the people

What’s truly remarkable about the Langar is that it is entirely sustained by donations. The Gurudwara never solicits money outright, yet contributions—both financial and in-kind—flow in from across the world. From sacks of flour and rice to kitchen equipment, everything is provided by the community.

The scale of generosity is staggering. During one of my visits, I met a man who had donated several tonnes of wheat flour for the kitchen. When asked why, he simply said, “I’ve been blessed in my life. This is my way of sharing those blessings.” Many donors prefer to remain anonymous, giving quietly as a part of their faith and duty.

And while the kitchen is large and runs continuously, sustainability is always at the forefront. There’s a meticulous focus on reducing waste, managing leftovers, and using resources efficiently. The Langar operates on the belief that feeding people should not come at the cost of the environment.

More than a meal: a global symbol of Sikh generosity

Although the Langar at Gurudwara Bangla Sahib is one of the largest in the world, it is by no means unique. Sikh temples globally—from New York to Melbourne—operate Langars that serve thousands. In fact, during global crises like the COVID-19 pandemic, Sikh community kitchens became a lifeline for millions of people. In cities across the world, Langars were set up to provide free meals to frontline workers, the homeless, and anyone in need.

In a world that often seems divided, the Langar represents an ideal—one where the barriers of class, religion, and wealth dissolve over a shared meal. As I finished my conversation with one of the volunteers, he summed it up perfectly: “This is not just food. This is an expression of love and equality. We are all the same when we sit together to eat.”

The Langar at Gurudwara Bangla Sahib is more than just a free meal; it is a living testament to the Sikh values of compassion, selfless service, and equality. From the volunteers who tirelessly chop vegetables and roll rotis to the donors who keep the kitchen stocked, it is a community effort that touches the lives of thousands every day.

At its heart, the Langar is not just about feeding bodies but about nourishing the soul—reminding us all of our shared humanity, one meal at a time.