Farid, smoothen the mounds and the ditches of your (egoistical) mind.
The hell’s fire won’t bother you.
I did not know of Tajammal Kaleem until a Patiala-based independent publisher published his book of poetry titled ‘Kamaal Karde o Badshaho’ (You are quite amusing, boss). A master reciter, Kaleem is the pride of mushairs in West Panjab. His rhymed verse is joyous when heard in his mellow voice. Thanks to YouTube and Indo-Pak Panjabi conferences, his popularity is equally soaring in East Panjab. Many young poets mimic his style, and rhymed verse poetry is most sold at book fairs across East Panjab.
This poem starts with a reference to Farid’s[2] couplet to smoothen the mounds and ditches. Kaleem takes its word play of ik barabar (one and the same) and weaves couplets with this refrain. In another couplet, Kaleem references Bulle Shah’s[3] dance like a courtesan[4] to please his beloved murshid. He addresses Sajjan (beloved), Murshid (spiritual master), and Yogi (wandering ascetic) and evokes desolation, destitution and commitment with a nonchalant playfulness. Kaleem taps into recurrent patterns and themes of Panjabi poetry and recreates the elemental (ditch, mound, clouds, sun, rain); personal (eyes, crying, desolation); animalistic (snake, earthworm); societal(destitute house, brothers, property distribution); and the spiritual (wandering yogi, spiritual master, death) worlds.
[2] Farīduddīn Masūd Ganjshakar (c. 4 April 1188 – 7 May 1266), commonly known as Bābā Farīd or Sheikh Farīd, was a 13th-century Punjabi Muslim[3] mystic, poet and preacher. Revered by Muslims, Hindus and Sikhs alike, he remains one of the most revered Muslim mystics of South Asia during the Islamic Golden Age. – Wikipedia
[3] Sayyid Abdullāh Shāh Qādrī(c. 1680–1757), popularly known as Baba Bulleh Shahwas a Punjabi revolutionary philosopher, reformer and Chishti Sufi poet, regarded the ‘Father of Punjabi Enlightenment’; and one of the greatest poets of the Punjabi language. He criticised powerful religious, political, and social institutions; and is revered as the ‘Poet of the People’ amongst Punjabis
Kind Judge Sahib, Mahavir Narwal is dead. Yes Judge Sahib, Natasha’s father is no more in this world.
Kind Judge Sahib, A day ago, this daughter had come to your Court. She had not said “Don’t prosecute me” She had not said “Declare me innocent”
Her lawyer had prayed, “Give her two moments She is to see her father She wants to talk to him a bit, He is sick.”
She was 13 years of age When her mother died Her father was her mother A shade giving tree he was.
You know Judge Sahib, You know it too well, That this girl did not incite violence in Delhi, She is innocent.
She wanted to break the cages of society, And you put her into the cage of the State.
You are too powerful Judge Sahib You are munsif. You could have given her two moments to see her father.
Judge Sahib, you can keep her in prison for more days You can hand over her a sentence of life imprisonment Your black robes have all the powers Judge Sahib. You can do justice.
What is written above is wrong. You can do everything Judge Sahib, But you couldn’t grant her Two moments to talk to her father, You couldn’t give her those two moments Judge Sahib, because you don’t have that heart which could grant her those two moments.
You have power You have justice, You had said You will hear the prayer on Monday.
Judge Sahib, that Monday won’t come That Monday has disappeared from the calendar.
Judge Sahib, For your whole life, You will be searching for that Monday.
The shades of evening like many before
The pavement are heading for settlements
The lake turns back from offices
thrown out of work
The lake is drinking its thirst
Some city has set off on the road to the village
Throwing off all wages someone is leaving
Someone comes wiping on his dhoti
the blood of weak animals on his goad
The shades of evening like many before
The long caravan
Leaving behind another’s land
Loaded with the humiliation of rebukes
the long caravan moves on
along with the lengthening
shadows of evening
Children on donkeys’s backs,
fathers cradling dogs in their arms
Mothers carrying cauldrons
on their backs
their children sleeping in those cauldrons
The long caravan moves on
carrying on their shoulders
the bamboo of their huts
Who are these
starving Aryans
which India’s land
are they headed to occupy
Dogs are dear to young men
fancying loving faces in palaces
is not for them
These starving ones have left behind
yet another’s land
The long caravan moves on
*
Photograph: A migrant worker carries his son as they walk along a road with others to return to their village, during a 21-day nationwide lockdown to limit the spreading of coronavirus disease (COVID-19), in New Delhi, India, March 26, 2020. Courtesy REUTERS/Danish Siddiqui
Poetry by Lal Singh Dil, one of the major revolutionary Punjabi poets emerging out of the Naxalite (Maoist-Leninist) Movement in the Indian Punjab towards the late sixties of the 20th century.
Charan Poadhi is a writer, artist and Poadhi language activist from village Arnauli, Dist. Kaithal, Haryana. He writes in Poadhi dialect of Punjabi, he collects and archives its folk songs. We profiled his work at Kirrt: Charan Poadhi – Shopkeeper & Artist
On International working women’s day, Punjabi Tribune published the list of Punjabi women in the modern age compiled by Amarjit Chandan: ਆਧੁਨਿਕ ਯੁਗ ਤੇ ਪੰਜਾਬੀ ਔਰਤਾਂ