Autumn (Punjab)
Mustard yellow.
If autumn came to poppies
And the opium wars were rewritten.
They would be here I suppose.
In the folds of a now bifurcated Punjab,
Colourful in the crevices,
Bloodless on either side,
Habituated to dying in their sleep now. .
Memory quietly runs over,
Silent weeps and gulps of sunshine,
Waging wars with thrones,
Tyrants and a millennia lost to swords and horses.
Godmen sired and assassinated
But history remembers Chenab.
The last to be whitewashed. .
History endures.
Frozen in cordoned off exits,
Colours splashed over a sanguine spring
The onset of a Jallianwalah
Revolution and atheism
How to make a bomb and why to be godless
They were writing down scars
Tricoloured
Flying away
Like dreams often do,
On the banks of Ravi
One fine January morning. .
Will Punjab ever forget August?
Blood etched and Radcliffed,
sprawled across either sides
why else would we remember Faiz
Or years later,
Blue stars twinkling in a turbaned summer sky? .
Decades have eluded us here,
The lines are blurry, the corn ripe
And the revolution once green,
Has seeped into the folds
Salty and earthy
Tainted
Burning away in the ashes
Of yellowing stubbles
In the hope
That it reaches the other half.
Floating westward and southward
Mustard yellow
But never sublime
Wondering
If only
Autumn had come to poppies
Neelashi Shukla, Delhi
(Neelashi Shukla is a contemporary poet who writes across various socio-economic and geo-political themes. She has published two books of poetry, Sleepwalking and Tease, and is working on her debut novel.)
Ailaan (Proclamation)
Some will sharpen a khanda, some a kirpan Delhi, we will worry you as one
Greater than your gain will be the harm done But matters of crops the farmers will decide
Individuals uniting will become millions The beads on your neck will be twisted Eighty-year old
elders will strike you The young will proclaim war on you Delhi, we will worry you as one
But matters of crops the farmers will decide
Just a few hours journey, Delhi
We will remind you of your limits, Delhi Climbing on your chest we will cheer
We will be encouraged by the sky
Delhi, we will worry you as one
But matters of crops the farmers will decide
We will fight the battle for rights with our rights After winning we will offer charity and
protection We are proud to have the judgement of history Let truth win on this battlefield
Delhi, we will worry you as one
But matters of crops the farmers will decide
—Translated from Punjabi
Koi khanḍe tikhe koi kirpan karoogaa Tainoon dilliye ikaṭh pareshaan karoogaa Teraa faaide naalon ziaadaa nuksaan karoogaa Par fasalaan de faisale kisaan karoogaa
Ihnaan ‘katiaan de eke ‘ch karoṛ hoṇge
Teri dhauṇ de jo maṇke maroṛ hoṇge
Assi varhe diaan baabiaan ton lai ke thaapaṛaa Tainoon jang daa ailaan naujavaan karoogaa Tainoon dilliye ikaṭh pareshaan karoogaa
Par fasalaan de faisale kisaan karoogaa
Bas chaar panj ghanṭiaan di vaat dilliye Tainoon yaad karvaa diyaange aukaat dilliye Teri hikk utte chaṛh ke jaikaare lauṇge Saaḍi haunslaa afazai asmaan karoogaa Tainoon dilliye ikaṭh pareshaan karoogaa Par fasalaan de faisale kisaan karoogaa
Asin haq di laṛai haq naal laṛaange
Asin jitaange te deg teg fatih paṛhaaṅge Saanoon maan vari rae itihaas de utte
Baaki dudh paani jang daa maidaan karoogaa Tainoon dilliye ikaṭh pareshaan karoogaa
Par fasalaan de faisale kisaan karoogaa
Vari Rai, Punjab
(Vari Rai, the lyricist of the song Ailaan—a song of resistance on farmers’ protest sung by Punjabi singer Kanwar Grewal—grew up in the village of Harnalpur in Mohali, Punjab. He juggles working at a bank and writing.)
