Friday, 17 February 2012

The Spirit of Singhs


If you ever watch a Bollywood film, the Sardar is often used to provide comic effect and give us all a great big chuckle. He always plays the role of the clown. Just take a look at 'Singh is King'. If you haven't seen it, here's a quick insight into the film. Akshay Kumar plays a young sardar called 'happy singh'  (because he's always happy) who wears a luminous green pugh, finds romance in Egypt and does a bit of bhangra with snoop dog.  And that's pretty much all the information you need to gather how ridiculous the film is. It really does a fantastic job in displaying our Singhs as a bunch of jokers. Yes, Singhs are known to be happy and high spirited and know how to show anyone a good time, but aside from that, they're hardworking with a fighter spirit too. 

In the times when the British were in India, they recognised the Singhs fighting spirit and were impressed with the valour they displayed in battle. There are many accounts from generals in the British army and even Afghan commanders who wrote about the tremendous amount of courage that the Singhs had but also, their strong determination and willpower to never give up no matter how difficult the circumstance. 

Below is an article I found in the Pardes Weekly. I didn't write it, but I wanted to share it because it really is fitting with this post. 

''We all love Sardar jokes. But do you know that Sikhs are one of the hardest working, prosperous and diversified communities in the world! 
My friend told me about the following incident which I wish to share with you. It has had a deep impact on my thinking.

During the last vacation, a few friends came to Delhi . They rented a taxi for local sight-seeing. The driver was an old Sardar and boys being boys, these pals began cracking Sardarji jokes, just to tease the old man. But to their surprise, the fellow remained unperturbed..

At the end of the sight-seeing, they paid the cab hire charges. The Sardar returned the change, but he gave each one of them one rupee extra and said,''Sons, since morning you have been telling Sardarji jokes. I listened to them all and let me tell you, some of them were in bad taste. Still, I don't mind coz I know that you are young blood and are yet to see the world. But I have one request. I am giving you one rupee each. Give it to the first Sardar beggar that you come across in this or any other city !!!"

My friend continued, "That one rupee coin is still with me. I couldn't find a single Sardar begging anywhere."

MORAL:
The secret behind their universal success is their willingness to do any job with utmost dedication and pride. A Sardar will drive a truck or set up a roadside garage or a dhaba, run a fruit juice stall, take up small time carpentry, ... but he will never beg on the streets

Because Sikhs contribute:

* 33% of total income tax
* 67% of total charities
* 45% of Indian Army

* 59,000+ Gurudwaras serve LANGAR to 5,900,000+ people everyday!

& All this when THEY make only 1.4% of the total INDIAN POPULATION.''



Fauja Singh is the perfect example of a Singh with immense fighting spirit, strength and resilience. Nothing, not even his age is an obstacle for him. So much so that even the global sporting brand 'adidas' recognised his endurance and are his official sponsors.  

The ignorant people assume that all Singh loves bhangra and will respond to you if you call them and say 'balle balle'. The reality is that not EVERY Singh loves Bhangra and 'Sardar Ji' was the title given to Singhs as a sign of utmost respect. 



So my question is, are we to blame for the industrys portrayal of the Singhs? Are they simply representing something that IS true? Or can we hold the industry accountable for its excessive use of a stereotype...? 




100 years old. The worlds oldest marathon runner

Tuesday, 7 February 2012

The lost innocence of Punjab

I thought I should explain the reason as to why I chose to call this blog 'mera rangla punjab'.

Most people are aware of the plight of Punjab. From the infertile lands, the rise of farmer suicide, the high rate of female infanticide and the influx of drugs and alcohol, to name but a few.  And let's not forget the shambolic political agenda with all its bribery. I guess that's something that's applicable to most countries of the world as politics is generally a dirty 'game' full of deceit and trickery but I feel, it's a game that our people haven't quite mastered. The severity of the issues just seems to be spiraling out of control, that it almost seems as if there is no solution.

Contrary to this disorderly web of corruption, is the Punjabi music scene with all its songs that boast about the men of this land; 6 foot in height and muscular in physique. The women, tall and slender with their long black hair which resembles a snake. The lyrics portray a colourful, vibrant landscape in which everyone is jubliant and always up for a celebration even if there is no occassion. Unfortunately, such portrayal of Punjab and its people are not true to life anymore, except the latter point; Punjabi folk are still always up for a party. Any excuse to drink and be merry. 


Many songs come to mind, however songs like Javaani with the vocals of Kaka Bhaniawala, Desh Punjab Di with Nirmal Sidhu, and Rangla Punjab by Sarbjit Cheema are ones that stick out in my mind for their colourful visionary depiction of the landscape and the latter two for their lyrics. When I hear the last two songs mentioned, they inject within me so much energy and I feel a great sense of pride in being Punjabi. For me, the latter two songs are a true reflection of the past spirit of Punjab and its people. 

Today the landscape is not at all like what we see being portrayed in the Punjabi music videos such as the ones above, which show fields upon fields of luscious green crops, 'gabhrus' happily dancing to bhangra and the young punjabi 'mutiyaar' in her ghagra and salvaar kameez. This isn't something I've seen on any of my visits to the Punjab. In fact, on my recent visit 5 years ago, I remember my sister and I shopping in chandigarh wearing phulkari chunni suits with our heads covered and being laughed at by the local girls and boys who were wearing western clothes thinking they were trendy. My mum was shocked to see them whispering and pointing at us making comments like 'why are they wearing those suits? Hardly anyone was wearing a salvaar kameez. So much for punjabi mutiyaar. And the 'gabhrus' described in the song with their 'kundiya muccha and pochmiyaa pagga' also nowhere in sight. 

The songs below are ones which are a true reflection of the current state of Punjab. While I know there are others, for me these are the ones that stand out and the ones that I personally like:


The first addresses the issue of the dried up rivers to the village boys leaving their village for the cosmopolitan lifestyle in the city without seeing the harvest of his crops. The second talks about  preserving nature and preserving punjabi culture addressing issues such as the water shortage in Punjab and the abortion of the female fetus. The last song is one that is chilling and rightly so because it shows how our farmers back home are struggling to harvest crops from lands which are not fertile and with no help from the government, they see suicide as their only option. 


With all this in mind then, why the name 'rangla punjab'?


Because such a time did exist where the plains of Punjab beamed with golden fields of wheat and everyone from the peasants, the farmers, the saints and the warriors were all full of resilience and always in high spirits (chardi kala). The bearded gabhru tall and robust in his chitta chaadra shook the dust on this land with his rhythmic dance of bhangra, the punjabi mutiyaar in her ghagra and saggi phull did once grace this land with her walk that resembled a deer and the sound of the shehnai filled the air in the house of the bride.



Sadly, these times have been lost in the pages of history. They are but nothing fond memories to our parents and grandparents and remind them of their childhood. And for the rest of us, all we have are the paintings which depict the lost innocence of Punjab. And so that's why the title of this blog is 'mera rangla punjab' because it is in honour of our great and glorious heritage. It is a celebration of our colourful and beautiful past. Having said that, such songs as the ones mentioned (rangla punjab, desh punjab di) exist for this very reason also; as a celebration of Punjabi culture.

I'll leave you with two songs that for me perfectly represent the idea of the 'punjabi gabhru' and the 'punjabi mutiyaar'. They will also give you a true sense of gidda and bhangra-raw and undiluted. The gidda video called 'gidda pao kuriyo' was a gidda series on video of traditional gidda. I grew up watching this video with my mum and sisters and I have very fond memories of it because we all used to dance to it and copy the moves. I hope you enjoy watching it as much as I did.

Gidda Pao Kuriyo (Part 1 of 14)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YMLvz_5fRrY&feature=related

Surjit Bindrakhia
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBxmDn1Ea-s&feature=related



Thursday, 2 February 2012

Pakistani Punjabi and Indian Punjabi-What's the Difference?

So today I remembered an incident that occurred when I was in primary school, relating to the question above. Maybe not so much of an incident as such but a moment that I never ever forget...

It's a summers afternoon and the school is hosting a summers fair. There is a fancy dress competition in which the best dressed child wins a prize. My mum decided that my older sister (who was 10 at that time) would be an Indian princess. So she dressed her up in a really pretty green and pink lengha, a nice tikka with a matching necklace and green and pink vanga to match also. She had her hair and make up done too. In all honesty, I didn't think she looked like a princess, as cute as she did look, but it just seemed as if she was going to a wedding.

My mum takes my sister to the judging table and they say 'so tell us about her costume?' to which mum replies  'she's an Indian princess'.

Fair play. The judges (who were not Indian), also thought she looked adorable and agreed that she DID look like an Indian princess. I mean it's not like they see a little brown girl in her traditional outfit every day.

Not long after, another little brown girl dressed in a cream lengha with matching gold tikka and necklace goes to the judging table. The judges say 'looks like we have another Indian princess', to which the mother of the young girl replies 'no, she is not an Indian princess. She is a Pakistani princess'.

You know, at that time, I must have been 8 or 9 and even then I remember asking myself what the difference was between a Pakistani princess and an Indian princess. Both my sister and this young girl looked exactly the same to me. Both wearing lenghas and vanga and tikka. The little girl was in my class. She was from Lahore, which is in Punjab. West Punjab to be precise. Pakistan. I didn't know that at the time, but I just remember being really confused about the difference between 'Indian' and 'Pakistani' princess. I never even knew there was such a thing as a 'Pakistani' princess.

I asked my mum what the difference was , she never gave a response. I don't blame her. What sort of response would you give to an 8 year old? The answer was too complex for my young, inexperienced brain to understand.

Or maybe it wasn't.

It was so simple. There was no difference.

The young girl spoke Punjabi in her house. So did we. She wore a salvaar kameez at home. So did we. She ate daal and roti. So did we. She believed in one 'god'. So did we.

Neither the Indian princess or the Pakistani princess won the competition. The judges (who were English) said great efforts on the lovely sparkly costumes but the Indian princess and Pakistani princess costumes were the same. In retrospect, I find this very ironic that the English judges saw no difference in these two young girls, yet in 1947, a new nation called Pakistan was carved out of India because the then British ruling elites saw nothing but differences between the Muslim, Hindu and Sikh.