Punjab as a state of Mind

I am an echoing sky just the size of an umbrella
I am a strange tree
Translating the rustling of the wind
Into Punjabi
--Surjit Pattar
These lines are from the sixth River of Punjab – the river of poetry. Into this river flow the love-legends of the Sufi poets, the verses of the Gurus and the anonymous folk songs. This river runs deep. Deeper even than the five rivers which traverse this land: the Sutlej, the Ravi, the Beas , the Chenab and the Jhelum. No water disputes here. No duping the census with linguistic untruths. For in these waters flow verses in Punjabi, Urdu, Hindi and at times, even Pinglish. No geographical boundaries here and no barbed-wire borders. Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan's Jogi needs no visa and jagjit singh's Kagaz ki Kishti is free to float where it will.
So, it is with two lines snatched out of context of a long poem that I begin my billet doux to Punjab. My Punjab. These lines by a contemporary are dear to me for in them he is a tree translating for me even the rustling of the wind into Punjabi. Where is this Punjab of mine? Where I a student of geography, I would promptly answer that this Punjab is a small state, covering only 1.6 per cent of India's land area.

Well, even if I were a student of geography, this answer would simply not do. Even though it is quite true. My Punjab with its pride, prejudice and fabled prosperity spreads for and wide. Something like the billowing skirt of some unknown woman sho sang: Mainu ambar the ghaghra suva de, Utte dharat di laon lava de (Get me a skirt stitched of the sky; and have it trimmed with the earth.) Ah, don't read territorial and space ambitions here! It is just the state of mind.
Now that you are reading this open letter of love. I might as well tell you that this too is in line with the Punjabi tradition. For us to love in secrecy is to not love at all. There is an exhibitionist even in the best among us. If you've got it, flaunt it. This may be the truth for others. But for the Punjabis, it is a case of even if you don't have it, flaunt it. This would range from the bank balance to the jewel box, from harmony at home to talent at work. Such show-offs these Punjabis! If that's what you are exclaiming, I can't quite discredit it for we are forever in a race to keep us with the Junejas or the Jakhars. But this trait has also meant survival even in the worst of times.
Call me prejudiced if you must in favour of my own land and people. Here is a little story told to me by a Maharashtrian mathematician about the folks back home, dating back to the saddest of years in the passing century:1947. It was related to him by a colleague of his at Panjab University whose family had to migrate from their home in West Punjab, leaving their property and business behind. No time was to be lost and business had to be started. The only thing that the family had somehow brought along was a sewing machine. So, some money was invested and a big tailor's board put outside the house. The man took upon himself the task of taking measurements. And the wife was to do the sewing. The very first day, they got an order for tailoring a shirt. In the excitement, they forget to take the measurement. When the customer returned the next day to give measurements, the shirt was ready. He tried it on and it fitted well. How was this done? The woman asked her husband what size was the customer and his reply was that around his size. This was the beginning of a roaring tailoring business. ``Such is the entrepreneurial spirit of the Punjabis,'' the Maharashtrian said in awe. ``But we lose out on thought,'' I mumbled. ``Well, you can't have it all!'' was his reply. But, that's what it is about us. We would certainly like to have it all. And if we know we cannot have it, then we choose not to even acknowledge it. Of course, the refrain of our land being the bread basket and on the border facing aggression is heard common enough, when our people from states with a geographical situation more protected mock at us and say, ``The only culture in Punjab is agriculture.''

The mobility and adaptability of the Punjabis is only too well known: from Toronto to New York; from Singapore to Melbourne; from Paris to Amsterdam. And UK is our very own vilait with Balle Balle Birmingham and Saada sohna Southall. Let folks mock at the Punjabis' lack of culture but wherever these people from the land of the five rivers have gone, they have managed to popularize their dress, food, song and dance. The salwar kameez has made it to the international fashion scene.
Want to knowa little more about Punjab, then just eavesdrop on what they are singing or laughing about. Soe time ago at a Sanatani Kirtan in a Chandigarh home, Isaw joyful women playing the dholak and joyously singing. Their song was: Assee Krishan diyan salian, Assee sithnian devan aayian; Assee vekhea tera Sudama, Jihda Phatea hoyea Pajama, Oh! Kahana wah-wah terian yaarian ( we're your sisters-in-law, Lord Krishna, we are here to tease you; Haven't we seen your Sudama! With his torn pyjama; O'Krishna what kind of friends you have!). ``Just like the Punjabis to dress Sudama in a pyjama even though needle and thread were unknown to the Krishna times,'' the News Editor from the Hindi heartland blurted out. What he did not say was that in this entire myth full of love and bonding, what struck the Punjabis were the shabby clothes of Sudama, Clothes maketh the man or the woman more in Punjab than anywhere else. The more flashy and gaudy, the better. This holds true for jewellery, interiors or what have you. And it is this consumerism which has spread from the towns to the villages, leading to epidemics like suicide and bride-burning. But Punjabis take death in their stride for the state has faced many invasions and strife. The dark days of terrorism took a heavy toll on human life. But the song that Punjab burst into soon after and had the whole world tapping its feet was :
Ho gayi teri Balle Balle; Ho jayegi Balle Balle.
Call this forgetfulness but it is this which makes the people of this land bounce back with a bang. Punjabi pragmatism can turn a disadvantage into advantage and a catastrophe into enterprise. If the finer sensibilities suffer, it can't be helped. Our friends in Kerala and Bengal know that we have always responded to any call for change they have made. Be it the revolutionary movement against Imperial rule which was echoed in Punjab with supreme sacrifice coming with the martyrdom of Bhagat Singh, Sukhdev and Rajguru or the Spring Thunder of 1967.
When the call is for romance, adventure, sacrifice or martyrdom, Punjab has never been a-lacking. For such are the calls that the Punjabi heart responds to in a big way. When it is a matter of the heart, there will be mistakes. But a Punjabi knows how to admit that it was a mistake and even laugh it away. Theirs is a rare to laugh, sometimes at others but mostly at themselves. So laughing, sometimes through tears, Punjab and Punabis move with their pride, prejudices and prosperity to the next millennium: Jee aayean nu