Dehati Boliyan 2

The arrival of nomadic merchants—*banjaras*—holds great significance in the small villages of Punjab. Women typically buy their cosmetics and adornments from them. Because of his trade and his wandering shop, the *banjara* occupies a prominent place in rural life, making him a frequent subject of village songs and folk poetry. Since he never stays in one place for long, he has come to personify unfaithfulness. I cannot recall a complete song about a *banjara* right now, but a few lines are echoing in my mind—God knows where or when I heard them:

*Saday o haan da... thag vanjara*

[Meaning: That *banjara*, that good *banjara*... our bachelor lover is of our own age, that deceitful *banjara*...]

These are perhaps the feelings of an unmarried girl, capturing the ebb and flow of maidenly love in beautiful, undulating waves.

These *banjaras* also bring colorful glass bangles, which the village maidens eagerly snap up. These merchants are highly skilled at slipping the bangles onto the women's wrists. Even on wrists as restless as quicksilver, they can swiftly and effortlessly slide on the jingling glass bangles in the blink of an eye. You can only imagine the manner in which they crack the knuckles of the young village girls, and the way they gently squeeze the girls' hands in their own... In my mind's eye, I see a young girl wearing blue bangles; seeing them on her dusky arms, even the sky seems to have grown brighter...

The girl keeps looking at her new bangles with deep fondness and admiration. Over by the fields where the cotton grows, her lover suddenly emerges from a cluster of acacia trees, and the two cross paths. For some reason, they both seem a bit distant and guarded with one another. The young man tries to grab her firmly, but she keeps slipping from his grasp like a fish. After a brief struggle, she bursts into laughter, but then immediately feigns seriousness and says:

*Asaan naviyan charhaiyan chooriyan*

*Hathaan te na mareen veriya*

[Meaning: I have just put on these new bangles... look, do not strike my hands.]

The playful banter ends. The girl, whose name is Banto, keeps rubbing her eye. Her lover asks, What's wrong, Banto? What happened to your eye? Still rubbing it, she replies, Something got in my eye. To this, the jealous lover retorts:

*Kehray yaar da gutawa keeta akh vich kakh pay gaya.*

[Meaning: For which lover were you preparing fodder for the cattle that a speck flew into your eye?]

After a bit more teasing, the conversation turns to the upcoming fair. Banto's lover is heading to the Baisakhi festival in grand style. He is wearing a thick gold necklace. His shirt is made of striped cloth—the kind city folk use for their pajamas. In his hand, he carries a new, oil-polished walking stick. He wears squeaky, brand-new shoes that have already started to pinch his feet. When everyone sets off for the fair, these shoes will likely end up tied to his stick. He also owns an umbrella, which no one else in the village has, so he will certainly take it along. So what if it isn't raining? It will add to his prestige. Hearing about the fair makes Banto's mouth water. She tells him:

*Melay chaliyan te lya deveen pohnchi*

*Way lay ja mera gut min ke*

[Meaning: Since you are going to the fair, you must bring me a bracelet... here, take the measurement of my wrist.]

Just to tease her, he refuses. Who am I to you that I should keep fulfilling your endless demands? No, I won't bring you anything from the fair. They bicker for a while, until finally, exhausted and reproachful, Banto says to her lover:

*Meri ik na mani kamjata*

*Teriyan main lakh man di*

[Meaning: You lowborn, you did not listen to this one small request of mine, while I listen to a hundred thousand of yours.]

At this, Banto's lover jokingly replies, Why? Is that it? This is exactly like the saying...

*Kachi yaari ladduan di*

*Laddu muk gaye yaranay tut gaye.*

[Meaning: A friendship based on sweets (material exchange) is fragile... the sweets run out, and the friendship breaks.]

Hearing this hurts Banto's feelings. Tears well up in her eyes, a deep sigh escapes her lips, and she thinks:

*Ki khatiya ee ishq gal la ke*

*Jindri nu rog la lya*

[Meaning: What have you gained by embracing love? Nothing, except afflicting your soul with a disease...]

Before falling in love, had she not heard it said time and again...

*Kitey dub na mareen anjana way*

*Ishqay di nehar vagdi*

[Meaning: O ignorant one, lest you drown and die; the river of love flows before you.]

She knew all of this, yet she still fell in love and began dressing up all the time. Just a few days ago, she had told the neighborhood dyer:

*Chunni rang de lalariya meri*

*Way alsi de phul wargi*

[Meaning: O dyer, dye my dupatta in a color like the flax flower. (The flax flower has a very beautiful color.)]

And how pure her love was! The day she heard he was sick, she had been heartbroken. When she finally met him four days later in the paddy fields, she had told him:

*Teri meri ik jindri*

*Tenu taap charhay main hoongan*

[Meaning: You and I share one soul; when you get a fever, I am the one who groans in pain.]

Lost in these thoughts, she looks at her lover reproachfully and says, Didn't I tell you...

*Mera kalja ganday de chhil warga*

*Vekheen yara paar na sateen*

[Meaning: My heart is as fragile as an onion skin; look here, my love, do not tear it apart.]

Saying this, she sits down by the jujube tree and begins to weep bitterly. Her lover, who had only taunted her about the sweets to tease her, becomes deeply distressed. He doesn't know what to do. He tries to console her a thousand times, but she keeps crying. He begs for forgiveness, but her tears won't stop. What did I even say that your tears won't stop? If I made a mistake, forgive me. Come on, quiet down now. Let go of your anger... This is too much... Please, be reasonable. What if someone comes by, what will they think? Just stop crying now... What actually happened? At least tell me. She just keeps crying and stubbornly insists:

*Teray samnay baith ke rona*

*Te dukh tenu nahiyon dasna*

[Meaning: I will sit before you and cry, but I will never tell you what has hurt me.]

What a profound sorrow this is for a lover. Banto sits before him, weeping incessantly. Yet, she refuses to reveal what has caused her such grief. What greater spiritual punishment could she possibly inflict upon her lover? A few days later, word spreads throughout the village that Banto and her lover have had a falling out, and all sorts of rumors begin to circulate. The matter is blown entirely out of proportion. People begin to taunt Banto's lover, prompting him to address her, saying:

Keeh kachiye teri yaari

Mehna mehna ho ke tut gayi

[What kind of love was yours, O immature woman,

That shattered under the weight of constant taunts.]

Meaning: O immature woman (*kachi* refers to a woman who is entirely inexperienced in matters of love), what kind of love was yours that it shattered under the weight of constant taunts?

One day, Banto saw him sitting in the distance near some chopped trees. A storm of emotion surged within her heart:

Yaari tod ke khundan te beh gayaan te hun tu kehra rabb ho gayaan.

[You broke off our love and sat on the stumps of chopped trees, but doing so hasn't made you a god.]

Meaning: You ended our love and went far away to sit on the stumps of chopped trees, but doing so has not turned you into a god.

In the villages, many such gods sit upon the bare stumps of trees, only to have their divinity overturned in the blink of an eye... The God of the heavens sits above, watching this spectacle in silence.

The arrival of nomadic merchants—*banjaras*—holds great significance in the small villages of Punjab. Women typically buy their cosmetics and adornments from them. Because of his trade and his wandering shop, the *banjara* occupies a prominent place in rural life, making him a frequent subject of village songs and folk poetry. Since he never stays in one place for long, he has come to personify unfaithfulness. I cannot recall a complete song about a *banjara* right now, but a few lines are echoing in my mind—God knows where or when I heard them:

*Saday o haan da... thag vanjara*

[Meaning: That *banjara*, that good *banjara*... our bachelor lover is of our own age, that deceitful *banjara*...]

These are perhaps the feelings of an unmarried girl, capturing the ebb and flow of maidenly love in beautiful, undulating waves.

These *banjaras* also bring colorful glass bangles, which the village maidens eagerly snap up. These merchants are highly skilled at slipping the bangles onto the women's wrists. Even on wrists as restless as quicksilver, they can swiftly and effortlessly slide on the jingling glass bangles in the blink of an eye. You can only imagine the manner in which they crack the knuckles of the young village girls, and the way they gently squeeze the girls' hands in their own... In my mind's eye, I see a young girl wearing blue bangles; seeing them on her dusky arms, even the sky seems to have grown brighter...

The girl keeps looking at her new bangles with deep fondness and admiration. Over by the fields where the cotton grows, her lover suddenly emerges from a cluster of acacia trees, and the two cross paths. For some reason, they both seem a bit distant and guarded with one another. The young man tries to grab her firmly, but she keeps slipping from his grasp like a fish. After a brief struggle, she bursts into laughter, but then immediately feigns seriousness and says:

*Asaan naviyan charhaiyan chooriyan*

*Hathaan te na mareen veriya*

[Meaning: I have just put on these new bangles... look, do not strike my hands.]

The playful banter ends. The girl, whose name is Banto, keeps rubbing her eye. Her lover asks, What's wrong, Banto? What happened to your eye? Still rubbing it, she replies, Something got in my eye. To this, the jealous lover retorts:

*Kehray yaar da gutawa keeta akh vich kakh pay gaya.*

[Meaning: For which lover were you preparing fodder for the cattle that a speck flew into your eye?]

After a bit more teasing, the conversation turns to the upcoming fair. Banto's lover is heading to the Baisakhi festival in grand style. He is wearing a thick gold necklace. His shirt is made of striped cloth—the kind city folk use for their pajamas. In his hand, he carries a new, oil-polished walking stick. He wears squeaky, brand-new shoes that have already started to pinch his feet. When everyone sets off for the fair, these shoes will likely end up tied to his stick. He also owns an umbrella, which no one else in the village has, so he will certainly take it along. So what if it isn't raining? It will add to his prestige. Hearing about the fair makes Banto's mouth water. She tells him:

*Melay chaliyan te lya deveen pohnchi*

*Way lay ja mera gut min ke*

[Meaning: Since you are going to the fair, you must bring me a bracelet... here, take the measurement of my wrist.]

Just to tease her, he refuses. Who am I to you that I should keep fulfilling your endless demands? No, I won't bring you anything from the fair. They bicker for a while, until finally, exhausted and reproachful, Banto says to her lover:

*Meri ik na mani kamjata*

*Teriyan main lakh man di*

[Meaning: You lowborn, you did not listen to this one small request of mine, while I listen to a hundred thousand of yours.]

At this, Banto's lover jokingly replies, Why? Is that it? This is exactly like the saying...

*Kachi yaari ladduan di*

*Laddu muk gaye yaranay tut gaye.*

[Meaning: A friendship based on sweets (material exchange) is fragile... the sweets run out, and the friendship breaks.]

Hearing this hurts Banto's feelings. Tears well up in her eyes, a deep sigh escapes her lips, and she thinks:

*Ki khatiya ee ishq gal la ke*

*Jindri nu rog la lya*

[Meaning: What have you gained by embracing love? Nothing, except afflicting your soul with a disease...]

Before falling in love, had she not heard it said time and again...

*Kitey dub na mareen anjana way*

*Ishqay di nehar vagdi*

[Meaning: O ignorant one, lest you drown and die; the river of love flows before you.]

She knew all of this, yet she still fell in love and began dressing up all the time. Just a few days ago, she had told the neighborhood dyer:

*Chunni rang de lalariya meri*

*Way alsi de phul wargi*

[Meaning: O dyer, dye my dupatta in a color like the flax flower. (The flax flower has a very beautiful color.)]

And how pure her love was! The day she heard he was sick, she had been heartbroken. When she finally met him four days later in the paddy fields, she had told him:

*Teri meri ik jindri*

*Tenu taap charhay main hoongan*

[Meaning: You and I share one soul; when you get a fever, I am the one who groans in pain.]

Lost in these thoughts, she looks at her lover reproachfully and says, Didn't I tell you...

*Mera kalja ganday de chhil warga*

*Vekheen yara paar na sateen*

[Meaning: My heart is as fragile as an onion skin; look here, my love, do not tear it apart.]

Saying this, she sits down by the jujube tree and begins to weep bitterly. Her lover, who had only taunted her about the sweets to tease her, becomes deeply distressed. He doesn't know what to do. He tries to console her a thousand times, but she keeps crying. He begs for forgiveness, but her tears won't stop. What did I even say that your tears won't stop? If I made a mistake, forgive me. Come on, quiet down now. Let go of your anger... This is too much... Please, be reasonable. What if someone comes by, what will they think? Just stop crying now... What actually happened? At least tell me. She just keeps crying and stubbornly insists:

*Teray samnay baith ke rona*

*Te dukh tenu nahiyon dasna*

[Meaning: I will sit before you and cry, but I will never tell you what has hurt me.]

What a profound sorrow this is for a lover. Banto sits before him, weeping incessantly. Yet, she refuses to reveal what has caused her such grief. What greater spiritual punishment could she possibly inflict upon her lover? A few days later, word spreads throughout the village that Banto and her lover have had a falling out, and all sorts of rumors begin to circulate. The matter is blown entirely out of proportion. People begin to taunt Banto's lover, prompting him to address her, saying:

Keeh kachiye teri yaari

Mehna mehna ho ke tut gayi

[What kind of love was yours, O immature woman,

That shattered under the weight of constant taunts.]

Meaning: O immature woman (*kachi* refers to a woman who is entirely inexperienced in matters of love), what kind of love was yours that it shattered under the weight of constant taunts?

One day, Banto saw him sitting in the distance near some chopped trees. A storm of emotion surged within her heart:

Yaari tod ke khundan te beh gayaan te hun tu kehra rabb ho gayaan.

[You broke off our love and sat on the stumps of chopped trees, but doing so hasn't made you a god.]

Meaning: You ended our love and went far away to sit on the stumps of chopped trees, but doing so has not turned you into a god.

In the villages, many such gods sit upon the bare stumps of trees, only to have their divinity overturned in the blink of an eye... The God of the heavens sits above, watching this spectacle in silence.