Saturday, 30 October 2021

......THE FARMERS HAVE LIT THIS FLAME .....


 Though not directly related to farmers, this is an article of an “oppressed community so please bear with me!

https://www.newslaundry.com/2021/10/30/finding-george-floyd-in-gujarat-a-day-in-the-life-of-the-siddi-community

The more I delve into “India “the more I learn about its inequalities, its atrocities towards minorities, towards indigenous tribes … the big divide between the haves and the have-not’s

I feel a sense of embarrassment that for so many years of my life (like a fair few of us) I have lived in a little bubble … a cocoon of privilege (I do use the word a bit sheepishly) where along with my many friends and family we were a bit removed from the world of a daily wage earner, a little boy selling “ Dhoop” at the traffic lights, a little girl in tatters with streaks of mud and snot scuttling to the car asking to clean the car for a few rupees… and much to my chagrin ( now) I remember saying irritatingly , “ She can get hurt, why is she crossing the road to clean the glass windows of the car” .. It was hunger…. this lack of food that made her and many others do this?

I like to think, we were raised to be kind and empathetic to people less fortunate but we were luckier than most and yet, despite getting a wee sad , a wee upset about the poverty we saw every day, through the tinted glass of the car( tinted was not banned then) there was not much I did about it ?

Yes, I was “kind” (I use this word sarcastically now) to home help … I did not throw a fit if they broke a much-loved Czech crystal glass or had to take leave if their child was ill…, but did I wonder how much they earned in a month? Did I ask about their life back in their “gaon”?

Did I bother to read about the numerous tribes that inhabited the states of Gujarat, Maharashtra, MP, Bihar, Far East?

Did I even consider the sheer grit and resolve that they must have to survive each day…. every day ? The list of “inequalities” in our Bharat is endless …. The deeper I delve into it, the more embarrassed I feel about not “talking “about it more!

So, what has changed?

Our marginalized farmers sitting at the Morcha have raised my moral conscience ... they have awakened my “soul” … they have made me “uncomfortable” about my “silence” all these years…. They have enabled me to look into aspects of our “unequal “society and get an “education” ….. my master’s and M. Phil in Literature seems inadequate —- is this even an education?

Does reading Thomas Hardy, understanding John Donne, quoting “Hamlet” educate me about life?

Clearly not ….

So, a big thank to my brave farmers for waking up the “real human” in me!

As I read about the Siddi Community in Gujarat, I was flummoxed by the fact that I had not known of their existence till now .

Now that I know, I want to raise my voice for all those whose voices have been silenced!

Thank you # Farmers for being that flame!

https://www.newslaundry.com/2021/10/30/finding-george-floyd-in-gujarat-a-day-in-the-life-of-the-siddi-community

 

Monday, 18 October 2021

Still waiting for answers- The Incident at Singhu border

 I have taken consent from two writers-----

Amandeep Sandhu and AJ Singh to publish their thoughts on the unfortunate incident at Singhu .This has led to a huge controversy as expected .

It has left us with unexplained events and answers 

These two articles are an effort to enable many of us to understand the background and ( conspiracy) behind this gruesome killing .

As always, I come back to the same question ?

WHY IS THE CURRENT GOVERNMENT TURNING A BLIND EYE TO THE THOUSANDS OF FARMERS BRAVING THE COLD , THE HEAT , THE RAIN AND NOW THE COLD AGAIN 

We need answers -

That is why we , the people of India need to raise a collective voice 

The story of this "new India" is being written not just by the fascist Modi Regime but all those who are enabling him .

Rise India !!



Here is what Amandeep Sandhu has to say 

Day 326

Toll 639

Sidq - Faith

It has been 72 hours since the Kundli border incident and I am relieved that riots did not break out. From those reading my post, I expect better understanding about me and my motivation, but to ally anyone in doubt: I condemn the brutal barbaric murder and dastardly parade of the alleged sacrilege perpetuator, victim of mob lynching by Nihangs.

The stories of the victim and perpetuators emerging over the last three days clearly point towards a conspiracy to enact this heinous crime. Given the recent mowing of Sikh farmers in Lakhimpur Kheri, the recent success of farmers protest in reaching across the country and drawing participation in Samyukt Kisan Morcha programs, the increased BSF presence in Panjab, this crime was meant to distract from the objectives of the protest and demand to sack the MoS Home and, if possible, fail the protests.

The conspirators know a few things about the Sikhs:

1. They are the pivot of the protests. The more the Sikhs are hammered, the greater the chances of breaking the protests.

2. They are an excitable people and, discussions aside, symbolism plays a role in their religion. Testimony to this is the justification of the murder by individuals on social media. (Including comments on my post that day which I have since deleted leaving most conversations one-sided).

3. They are deeply hurt from many instances of denial of justice, including on issues of sacrilege in recent years. Those too started when farmers protest were at their peak in Panjab, October 2015. Do you see the pattern? 

4. They suffer from caste issues - it is a fault line. There is no denying that but because caste in Sikh religion is unlike caste in Hindu religion, the attempt to see this act as a caste crime failed.

5. The Nihangs, by no stretch a monolith, also cultivate an image of being a bit out of the periphery of the law. Yet, as of now three Nihangs have surrendered to police. More may be arrested soon. 

The ploy failed. Despite all the furore on social media, on ground, the farmers on protest have weathered yet another storm. Once again, the ones who conspired have been snubbed by the people.  

However, this episode tells us something about us on social media who are eager to comment: relax!

The world is not waiting for our grandstanding. The people in the protest are wiser than us. They are prepared to deal with the attacks to discredit the protests. They have done so once again. For someone like me who comes from the trauma of my adolescence, I feel more and more assured about the sidq - faith the protesters have in the protests.

In this episode, we must applaud those many Panjab Dalit voices that refused to fall for the Sangh ploy to make the diabolical act look like a caste crime. 

However, two points in retrospect:

1. It is facile to completely de-link the protests from religion. Sikh thought, Sikh orientation, is one of the pillars of the protest. Yes, the religion's core message is Sarbat da Bhala - Welfare of Humanity and its cultural extreme is the kind of 'sodha' - punishment that the Nihangs meted out. There is a need to draw a line but one can't throw out the baby with the bath water especially when the values and positive cultural attributes of the religion have sustained the protests.  

2. There is a pattern with SKM to disown whatever it deems may jeopardize its activities. It could come from being unsure about how an irresponsible media would portray them. But the Nihangs have been part of the protests from earlier on. The Nihangs have shared stage, they have shared langar even with police, they have been projected as a line of defence in case an armed attack happens. Yesterday, a few SKM leaders were admitting to this. That dialogue must happen.

A second clarification because these days Facebook is more misread than read: when the Nihangs had arrived, I had called some Nihang groups and asked them what was the point of giving fodder to a vulture-sque lapdog media who would want to portray the protest as an armed struggle against the state? There were no good answers. I do not know the Nirvair Khalsa Udana Dal Nihangs.

Today is a call by  SKM for Rail Roko.

 Many places the farmers are stopping trains to demand the arrest of MoS Home Ajay Mishra Teni who had issued a provocative statement that formed the backdrop of the Lakhimpur Kheri killings.

 Let us enable the Rail Roko.




 

 

be


My two cents on the Nihang Sikh controversy: -AJ Singh

In the name of sacrilege of Guru Granth Sahib, Lakhbir Singh, a drug addict, poor, Dalit Sikh, was brutally killed by Nihangs, his hand was cut off and his body was hanged on the barricade, to the shock and horror of many of us.

Why did Lakhbir Singh who came to the Farmers agitations for the first time, lived among the Nihangs, wore a cloak like them was brutally murdered by them ?

 And then those who tormented him are fearlessly releasing videos of his torture and murder. Only complete investigation will be able to tell what the real story of the whole conspiracy is. To give it a caste slur as certain opposition leaders are trying to claim is only ascertaining the deep state at play that was trying to call Sikh Farmers protestors Khalistani’s, terrorists or Pakistani sympathisers after January 26th incident.

Well, for the time being, let us try to understand the history of Nihangs and their lifestyle.

Nihang is a Persian word which means crocodile. The suicide squads in the Mughal army were called Nihangs who wore blue clothes. The combat squad led by Guru Gobind Singh's son Sahabzada Fateh Singh was also called Nihang and they also wore blue clothes.

Guru Gobind Singh had started a fair at Anandpur Sahib on the next day of Holi, the main attraction of which was the fighting drill of the Sikhs, in which mock battles were fought among themselves with Gatka, Neja, Talwar, Arrow Command etc. The same tradition continues till now and all the Nihangs from far off places with their respective army sprints towards Anandpur Sahib where they show off their fighting feats. According to their lifestyle, Nihangs refuse to accept any authority and have their own discipline, there are Deras and Jathedars of Deras. They call their tents by the name of Chhawani.

They have three main organizations –

Tarun Dal,

Budha Dal

Bidhichand Dal.


A Historical Glimpse: After the death of Guru Gobid Singh the Nihang squad fought valiantly along with Banda Bahadur. Later, when Ahmed Shah Abdali started destroying Kartarpur and Amritsar in 1757, Baba Deep Singh, walking from Damdama Sahib, took 5-6 thousand fighters along with them in Tarn Taran and sacrificed them while fighting with the Afghans.

Baba Deep Singh's Jatha was known as Shaheed Jatha or Nihang Misl and its members were called Shaheed. After a few years in 1763, after the Sikhs killed the governor of Sirhand, Zain Khan, the head of this misl, Karma Singh Shaheed became the ruler of Shahzadpur, Kesari and Majri of Ambala. The area around Damdama Sahib, Bankhandi of Saharanpur and Bartha Jawai also became part of the Jagir of Karma Singh Shaheed.

Nihangs had a special contribution in the expansion of Maharaja Ranjit Singh's empire in Multan, Peshawar and Kashmir. In 1818, the Nihangs under the leadership of Akali Phula Singh along with General Hari Singh Nalwa made possible successful expansion of the Sikh Empire in the area of ​​North West Frontier.

In the same year, under the command of General Ilahi Baksh, the Nihang's platoon of Sadhu Singh fought bravely to conquer Multan. In 1819, the Nihangs conquered Kashmir while fighting with Kunwar Kharak Singh. Akali Phula Singh and Gurkha commander Balabhadra were killed in the conquest of Peshawar in 1823.

In the second and third decades of the last century, the Nihangs played a major role in a series of Akali fronts to free the gurudwaras from the mahants.

Karseva of Akal Takht after Bluestar Operation: When the Akal Takht was damaged in Bluestar operation, Nihangs under the leadership of Jathedar Santa Singh played the main role in the Karseva to get it rebuilt. It was demolished and rebuilt after the central Govt of the time handed it over back to Akal Takht.

According to Sikh historians, the ethics of the Nihangs include reciting Gurbani daily, staying in a cloak, wearing arms, not raising hands on any helpless poor and weak, protecting them.

But in the incident that has just happened, Lakhbir Singh was unarmed. This condemnable and disturbing incident must be questioned, and the need of the hour is to expose the entire conspiracy.

Samyukt Kisan Morcha strongly condemned the massacre and clarified that the Nihang farmers living in tents near the stage on the border were not part of the movement. Their activities have been irritating the farmer leaders. After Buddha Dal claiming responsibility for the lynching and handing over four of their men to the police shouldn’t SKM be issuing a statement putting rest to the controversy leading to the killing of Lakhbir Singh?

However, a conspiracy to tarnish the image of the protesting farmers is certainly at play and deep state controversy cannot be ruled out to create deep fissures, while it is also true that taking laws into own hands citing 17th century edicts is also not justified.

Compare that to the Govt in power which openly facilitates lynchers and cheers minorities killings.

Despite videos of the cars belonging to the Union Home minister crushing farmers in Lakhimpur Kheri, he is continuing in office while his son is being interrogated by the SIT & UP police.

It is this irresponsible behaviour of the central Govt that is encouraging people to take law in their own hands as people have no faith left in judiciary or the State machinery.

A sealed envelope was provided by the committee formed by the SC on the three farm bills on March 2021 but no discussions have yet happened on that.

How do you expect the law of land to be followed when over 700 people have died protesting at the NCR borders and the PM himself has not even said a word on that…

Published with permission from AJ Singh 

Thank you AJ for this informative read .


 

 

Saturday, 9 October 2021

THE TALE OF A YOUNG FARMER

 

The Tale of a Young Farmer ....


The painful and heart-breaking “ploughing” of peacefully protesting farmers has left us shaken and heartbroken.

Since that fateful episode, I have felt a deep anguish and am questioning the very reason of our being .. this society ... and life.

The farmer is the most connected with nature…

His life revolves around tilling, planting, harvesting ... he is up at dawn and works through the cold, heat, rain, hail and drought…

Many of us have lives in the city .. we dress smart and go to plush offices in fancy cars …. shop” organic” and talk about” sustainable lifestyles” over coffee mornings and nibbles.

We try and incorporate a bit of CSR in our work lives and think we have done our bit!!

I will tell you a little tale of a young, marginalized farmer ….all of 34 years old with about 3 acres of land ... he has a young family and aging parents. These laws are a threat to his very existence. He has been on the morcha site since day one …

.. He has seen it all .. he was there when the arrogant beast Monu Mishra drunk on his father’s power and status mercilessly and deliberately ploughed down the farmers as though they were rubble .. he was there and saw the wailing families, the sisters of young Lovepreet Singh ..

We have spoken since and I am worried for him .. I worry for his sanity, his mental equilibrium .. I worry for his young family who he has not seen for weeks now ..

I worry for all of those like him .. but my like-minded friends and I worry in the comfort of our homes while he braves the likes of Monu Mishra and sees blood and terror first hand ..

But this has gone too far …

I still know of many people .. many of whom are my “friends” who work for the government and cannot show their support openly? Who have large land holdings and do not care a toss about whether the APMC is abolished or not ?

But this “terrorist attack has gone too far

We, the people must raise a voice ...

We, the people have to ensure that this murderer is not allowed to get away .....

We, the people must ensure that the young farmer goes back home to his little girl !!

 

And I will share also a little tale of an old man and the crowd that I have translated from our friend Sangha's tweet …




Story of the Old man- BABA & the Crowd

Crowd...(quote)

1.We will not compromise

2.The Morcha must be accelerated

3. It will be tit for tat

4.We are a martial race

5.Will beat Yogi's butt till blue

6.All these leaders are bought

Old man - (quote)

“Go for a long walk, calm down “

Crowd, "What Calm ? We are not afraid .Let us gherao the border. Our blood is boiling ..Little children are dying , a mother's womb has been destroyed .Leaders have been bought .They have cheated us of 100 crores..."

Old Man ," Maintain equilibrium . Everyone has a personal agenda, a weakness, a fault .They will all answer for that but do not hinder the morcha !"

Crowd,”Oh you coward !We are breathing fire ,who can confront us ?Our patience has been tested to the limit ..It is now DO OR DIE..."

Old Man , "Okay as you say , my child” .....

Let us strategize and plan ?

Who is doing what ?

Who is going where ?

Who is doing what ?



Let us work smart ..”

And then a section of the crowd

1. .."I am on a H1 visa in San Francisco but am with you all the way" .

2..."I am setting up my factory but will send you cash whatever you need ...."

3. "My kid has exams and wife is on an online training. But will update on FB..."

4..."After ages , I have got a week off , have booked a great hotel with another family. But trust me, my blood is boiling at this injustice ..."

5..."I work for the govt. so cannot support you openly but don't worry, I will support you behind the scenes.”

6.."I work for a MNC but WFH is now over so have a 5 day week. I will come to Singhu over the weekend… but hell, I am all fired up! “

Wise old Man-…” Soldiers will die in battle ...and the King (Queen the little prince , princess & Wazir) will be safely ensconced in his ivory tower …

जंग में क़त्ल सिपाही होंगे

सुर्ख़रू ज़िल्ल-ए-इलाही होंगे

#bjpmassacredfarmers





 

Thursday, 6 May 2021

. I AM PARCHED ....I WANT WATER

 




I am tired. I am beaten.

I am trodden every day with feet and bones.

They are a dead weight.

Every day and every night I find myself being dug deep.

Every day and every night I am battered and bruised.

Every day and every night I get scorched and burnt.

Every day and every night I find myself asphyxiating in smoke.

Ah God the smoke, the thickness of it, the stench of it.

Every day and every night I hear the wails and the screams.

Every day and every night  I want to scream in pain, but my screams get silenced by someone else’s that are louder and more anguished.

There was a young lady in red who came to rest on me ...

I could see her pale skin and her red bangles.

I could see her dark hair and her eyelashes so dark and long.... fanning her still eyes... her lashes, almost touching her cheeks.

I could almost smell the sweetness of her body.

And then she lay on top of me.

And then she was engulfed in flames on top of me.

I saw her young husband collapse  like a leaf.

I saw her parents crumble into twisted heaps of bones screaming in silence.

Barely had they left that I felt another weight on me…and another and  yet  another?

Every day and every night I wait for a hiatus.

Every day and every night I am consumed by a conflagration.

Every day and every night I find myself shrivelling, drying, dying.

I want to breathe the fresh clean air, I want water , I am parched

I am one of the many crematoriums.

Are there many of us , I wonder ?

Wednesday, 5 May 2021

THE CURIOUS CASE OF THE YELLOW ANIMAL AMBULANCE

 

(The Yellow Ambulance for animals )

                                                                                        

I finished work and decided to jog today after days of bad weather (and procrastination)

The sun was shining and there is a nip in the air.

Months of working from home without my regular exercise routine of the spin cycling in the morning has taken its toll and the mirror reflects it so I dare not look at the full length one in the landing.And of course the weighing scale has been tucked away in a dark recess in the loft :-)

The jogging pants (never my favourite outfit) look even worse than they did before !!

But as always, my “creative flair” led me to find an oversized sweatshirt (tucked amongst the laundered clothes) …a sweatshirt meant for a very tall young man….  

Looking very much like an “Empress (Ragamuffin) in “borrowed” clothes “, I gingerly stepped out of the house. Thankfully for me, the village road was very quiet except for the occasional dog walker none of whom, I thankfully recognized.

 There were some road works (as they are always are) at the end of every financial year to justify the exorbitant tax that citizens pay to the state!! The bane of every BRIT!!


                                               (The open fields bathed with sunshine)

                                                       (Looking at my own shadow)

So, there I was…. on a slow steady jog –I have discovered that my newly discovered Punjabi Singer Jordan Sandhu's “Do vari Jat” is a great replacement to the fancy jogging music I had especially downloaded for my run (Apologies to Ava Max)

                        https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HvtqhIV2n78                   

Now Jordan Sandhu ‘s slow Bhangra feat allows me to walk very fast rather than jog. Also, the lyrics are highly entertaining.

So here I was on this warm May day and I see a yellow van whizz past the quiet country lane.


                                  (The light and shade of it all)

                                 (The little cottage by the road)

The van had a big banner of “Animal Emergency Ambulance” and at that split second, I thought of India.

Here I am, in a country that has such a well-equipped state of the art ambulance -for a cat, a dog, a bird and maybe even a  guinea pig  and across the pond is  the land of my birth , a land that has the  oldest civilization ,  the most talented pool of artisans, a great history of innovation, a land that was once the Golden Sparrow – This  land is  currently on its knees  devastated by a pandemic .


                                      (The Pink Blossoms)                                                       

It does not have enough doctors, not enough nurses, not enough medicines, not enough vaccines not enough ambulances

And Ironically now ,not enough crematoriums.


                      HEIL MODI  !!

Thursday, 22 April 2021

THE POWER OF PRAYER AND LOVE

 






This is a post about the Power of Love and Prayer

Prayer turns ordinary mortals into men of power.

 It brings power… It brings fire. ...It brings rain… It brings life. It brings God-…. Samuel Chadwick

As a trio Samita, Jugnu and I have been feeling exhausted, sad, helpless, fearful, and enraged all at once with the turn of events in the country. Like all of you we are wounded and crippled ….

 ….. Every morning we wake up to bad news …

Covid deaths, the breakdown of government machinery - a complete annihilation of the system in the hands of a callous and an arrogant government who has lost the plot.

But this quote from Emil Cioran resonates with me,

“Man starts over again every day, in spite of all he knows, against all he knows.

Three days back my friend narrated to me a powerful story of how when her family member was undergoing a life-threatening surgery, the little township they lived in conducted a series of chain prayers. Every church in the little town ship prayed at the same time for the life of her family member.

This prayer worked. The member survived the nerve-racking ordeal and is in great health.

And then my friend Kiran Sandhu sent me an article on

Love is more vital than a vaccine….

Love, whether it is of this world or the other, leads us to the Lord who is the lord of all - Jalauddin Rumi”

This set me thinking …

Shall we, as a group try and focus on

LOVE AND THE POWER OF PRAYER…

As a child, my Nani ji always told me if I recited the “Japuji sahib” in the morning and the “Chaupai sahib at night nothing will ever go wrong and that my life will be bliss….

 ..Sorry Biji, this has not been the case 😊 but in my darkest days her words have come to me and I am able to pull through and move on.

So, thank you my dear Biji,Sardarni Raghbans Kaur ji.

Thank you for the words of wisdom, thank you for your “Alsi deeyan pinnis”,thank you for your “Stuffed Karelas”, thank you for your “Makki di roti and Saag”, thank you for your “Suji di halawa”, thank you for oiling my hair 😊 and most importantly thank you for showing me the way …

As a child, if I was ever frightened (like we all were) of the dark, of the bhoots, of the cockroaches and lizards, I would hurriedly start to mumble “

ਤਾਤੀ ਵਾਊ ਨਾ ਲਗਈ ਪਾਰਬ੍ਰਹਮ ਸਰਨਾਈ

ਚਊਗਿਰਦ ਹਮਾਰੇ ਰਾਮ ਕਾਰ ਦੁਖ ਲਗੇ ਨਾ ਭਾਈ”

Translated –

The hot wind does not even touch the one who is under the protection of the Lord  

Our lord surrounds us from all sides so pain and unhappiness cannot touch us “

And magically my fear would dissipate …

And yes, know that was some 56 moons ago and the fear currently is not of a dark room and cockroaches…( I wish it was 😊 )

It is a lot more ominous; It is potentially the darkest era for our country.

A monster seems to be looming over us; it is not a cockroach but a…. VIRUS….one imported from China and one created by us, but we must fight them both.

And when all else seems to fail, let us pray and let us be kind ….

Let us all, as group of some 9.6 K people across the globe get together and pray …

Like the Earth day which is tomorrow i.e. 22nd April 2021 let us have a Prayer Day. Let us all pray together on ...

Saturday,24thApril 2021 at 5.00 pm IST – (Some of the time zones may not be convenient but please do pray whenever it is convenient)

Let us pray for the world to be healed.

Let us pray to alleviate the suffering and pain of the people who have lost loved ones ...

Let us all join hands and make a powerful chain of prayer across the world to evoke the blessings of our Waheguru, Ram, Allah, Jesus, or any higher power that you believe in …

Let us seek our God and ask to be blessed with the POWER OF LOVE AND HEALING

Let us try and heal our world…   

I will remember my Waheguru with one of my favourite Shabads from my childhood. Please share your prayer and a video clip if you can

Let us flood this group page with the POWER OF PRAYER..

 

Chardi Kala

 

 

Tuesday, 13 April 2021

LISTEN TO YOUR INNER VOICE

 


BABA JI -General Gulab Singh of Pahuwind, a general in the army of Maharaja Ranjit Singh/also     Governor of Peshawar-Humbled and proud of this lineage .





The family home
I  am not sure from where this streak of activism has sprouted within me?

 

Yes, I belong to a family where both “Nankas”(1) and “Dadkas”(2) have connections with Pind.

 

My memories of the Pind are all about sugar and spice and all things nice.

They are about balmy summer months of a blissful childhood with cousins.

 

The memories are poignant with laughter and jokes amongst cousins. Unlike the fancy European cultural holidays or the shopping trips to Singapore that are the norm now, our summers were spent between my Pinds of the Dadkas and Nankas (maternal and paternal villages)

 

Our  mornings would inevitably begin with a variety of  parathas i.e. Aalu, Dal wale or with Anda Bhujia  and curd, glasses of “khati”(3) lassi followed by a “queue” for the bath as despite the house being so huge, it did not have the mod cons of ensuite bathrooms that one expects now.

 

Then of course, the tryst with the ping pong ball in our “lamba”(4) kamra (5)which was like a school dorm with its row of beds and an argument about who would be sleeping next to whom?? The house has thick walls, so the windowsills were used for lounging in and reading and watching

 "Lal Anheri" the red storm, a peculiar phenomenon that occurred in the 70’s, a very strong dust storm that was completely  relentless; the staff would talk about it the following morning and tell us about how a woman from our neighbouring country, Pakistan had been blown into our village we would of course listen wide eyed and actually believed them. Till date, I am not sure if were just being fobbed off.

 

And then of course, there was the mango ice cream. The homemade mango ice cream churned in the old fashioned ice cream maker that involved  lots of ice and coarse salt ; lots of churning done by the  old faithful “Bhau”(6) Gyan whose family had been in ours for a fair few generations. I remember him as being an awfully skinny, very talkative bloke who was a butt of many jokes both by us- little imps and the rest of the staff but the jokes were never wicked? Or were they??

 

Then of course were the numerous pets that were my Dadiji’s pride and joy. They ranged from  pedigreed Sandy, the golden  retriever, Rita the German Shepherd and a few pie dogs , some cats and the most hated of them all- a particularly, ugly very ill-behaved pie dog called Sweety ...who was lovingly called “Teetan”by our granny. These pets were her passion, her true love, sorry papaji 😊 .We were all resigned to this hierarchical order ; we girls ranked a dismal second last compared to, first, her cats and dogs , her husband , her grandsons,sons,daughters, granddaughters and then of course the daughters in law( our mothers)??



  

But we were not unduly concerned- our prime focus was to wangle the most amount of Cadburys nutties that  could be squeezed out from our  slightly frightening and very  quirky  Tayaji or get to choose which Pakistani television series to watch on PTV or Doordarshan. Knight Rider was a universal favourite, much to the annoyance of Janak , the “Khadu”(7)  cook and man Friday as we all insisted on watching it quite late in the night and would often want sandwiches or snacks at midnight ( there was no concept of a civilized 7.30 pm deadline in the India I grew up in the late 70’-early 80’s)

 

Janak   would grudgingly get our sandwiches but the amount of salt on the thinly sliced cucumber was “directly proportionate” to his “annoyance” so most days we ended up having very salty cucumber sandwiches downed with hot chocolate and if that was not enough, sometimes in a fit of pique he  would switch off the mains so we had to go to bed in the middle of an unfinished episode of the Knight Rider.

 

And then of course were the tales of “ghosts”. In a house as old as ours with a history dating back to Maharaja Ranjit Singh, there were bound to be stories ----tales of ghostly nautch girls dancing on the top of the Mamti ? Of ghostly apparitions floating around all of us as we slept under the stars??




 

Of course these tales had the effect of filling us with fear that led all of us to go en masse …”humming a song” to use the facilities after a final episode of the Knight rider and wait in a queue outside the toilet (This habit of humming I still adhere to, if I am scared even now at the ripe old age of 56 much to the perplexity of my two young adults)

And  of course, it did not help that the toilet had a stair case, a  spiral concrete stair case that led  down into the courtyard or supposedly into a tunnel that  allegedly runs all its length from our village to (please hold your breath) Lahore now in Pakistan -a good 26 miles from our house as the crow flies ?

 

 On course in the dark, with a flickering light bulb casting eerie shadows on the thick, white plastered walls, this little staircase filled my 10-year-old mind with palpable fear and gave all of us the shivers.



But come daylight, this was all forgotten and there were singing sessions and hide and seek .There was also the “curious case of the bee hives” that would magically spring up in the various nooks and crannies of the big old  house  and we have been bitten by a few bees every now and then and have survived without jabs and calls to 999.

 

But then, unlike the world today, we had no mod cons of mobile phone, kindles and  computers and yet life was full of wonder and joy; the simple pleasures of playing word games , singing songs ,writing in our daily diaries ,listening to sakhis and folk stories and  getting through the piles of homework that was mandatory during the summer break .

And on cue each morning, we woke up to the sound of the morning prayer "Asa -di-vaar"(8) from the loudspeaker of the blessed gurudwara in the village.




 

In contrast to this historic old red brick haveli with its illustrious history was my maternal granddad’s village home. It was sprawling in its own right with a huge central court yard that would come alive at night with its rows  of “manjis” (9)ready for bed time .

 

The servants  would first spray  the “vehra”(10)  with water, then out came the “manjis” with their massive mosquito nets and four big and tall pedestal fans on all four sides of  row of beds as summer times in May and June were stiflingly humid .

 

Of course, the bed time was not complete without partaking the  massive steel glass full of the sweetest, creamiest mango shake, churned by my dear Bhabhiji-the best mango shake maker in the world 😊  It is  fairly obvious that the theory of an early dinner being  healthy is moon shine!!   I have not seen more healthier and stronger cousins than my four strapping maternal cousins. One of them who to date  my favourite ,my dear Ajinder Bhaji  indulged my sister and I by taking us to watch the  rare Bollywood film in  the nearest town  on his  “Massey Ferguson” as opposed to the white Fiat parked very grandly in the drive since cars were quite scarce those days.

 

I of course ,I cannot forget the parathas dripping with freshly made white butter and the “Boauli” the strange curd like milk tempered with jaggery the taste of milk a few days after the birth of a calf? Does any of you remember that?

 

And then of course are the stories  and the Sakhis- my earliest memories of my Naniji telling us Sakhis(11) of the four Sahibzada’s ,Guru Nanak Dev ji and  Guru Tegh Bahadur ji, the reciting of the Japuji Sahib  and  the Chaupai Sahib that I have not forgotten till date .

 

A recurring memory is of a big tub of iced water filled to the brim with  small, sickeningly sweet Dussehri Mangoes.My siblings and cousins in our loose sleeveless ,printed muslin frocks gorging on these mangoes with the juice dribbling down our face and frocks ..Of course this surfeit of mangoes led to the consumption of copious amounts of “kachi” lassi a concoction of fragrant Rooh Afza and iced milk to ward off the effects of heat generated by the mangoes or else we would break into rash .




                                        The Nanaka clan 

 

This along with the memory of noisy rounds of “pithu garam”(12) and “hide and seek” fill my heart with an ache of days long gone

 

 Many of these lovely people who filled my childhood with joy and love have long gone, the last patriarch my mamaji having left us a few months back.  Most the old retainers have gone but the bricks and the walls remain, and these walls echo with the sounds of laughter and carefree abandon of my childhood.

 

 The last time I visited, I could swear that I felt the loving presence of my Naniji draped in her big white chiffon dupatta and I had this  sudden feeling of almost being enveloped in her comforting hug; I could almost smell the “nani”(13) smell and I could have sworn I saw the commanding presence of my grandfather in his impeccably  starched white kurta pyjama and Pagri (14)as he played hide and seek in the courtyard with us.

  

I ,along with my generation are very lucky to have witnessed this blessed simple organic life of the Pind ..so when I think of this “Virsa”(15) being destroyed by an arrogant, nasty government, my heart fills with a mix of rage and sadness but it also enthuses me with an  energy to give a voice to all those people who feed us every day .



                                         The Courtyard 

 


And though I live across the pond and do not personally have any  land (of course a topic of conversation in itself – this Patriarchy  that very much exists in the world of farmers) my heart still beats for that piece of land, my pind, my happy place that will always live in my heart .

 

So therefore, I speak up.

So, therefore this activist in me has surfaced

 

Let us all of us listen to this inner voice and speak up NOW

Let us all become activisits 💪


Glossary

Nanakas(1)...................Maternal Home

Dadkaads(2).................Paternal Home

Khati(3)........................Sour

Lamba(4)......................Long

Kamra(5).......................Room

Bhau (6)......................Saluation

Khadu(7)......................Colloquial term for someone from the hills

Asa-Di-Var(8)....................(Prayer from the Guru Granth Sahib)

Manjiis (9).......................Rustic  Cot 

Vehra (10)......................Courtyard 

Sakhis(11).............................(Religious stories

Pithu Garam(12).............A game 

Nani (13)..........................Maternal Grandma

Pagri(14).........................Turban 

Virsa (15).........................Heritage