I once read that the in-laws of Punjab’s development-oriented Chief Minister, S. Partap Singh Kairon, belonged to Mallke village, the last village of the old Ferozepur district on the way towards Faridkot. At some point, Kairon Sahib must have arrived in this village as a bridegroom, wearing his wedding sehra, to marry Mata Ram Kaur Ji.
It is said that after becoming Chief Minister, Kairon Sahib once visited his in-laws. A wise man from the village said to him, “Fuffar Ji, please get our boy admitted to the overseer’s course.”
S. Partap Singh Kairon replied, “You arrange the land, and I will open the polytechnic.”
According to S. Gyan Singh, a former Public Relations Officer who was born and brought up in Panjgrain, Moga, a polytechnic was subsequently opened on common land near Rode village. Thousands of young people from the area became engineers while continuing to eat at home and also helping their parents with farming. People across the region began singing praises of their fuffar.
The fuffars of today are perhaps no longer like those of earlier times, or maybe the buas no longer care as much for the welfare of their parental families. But the context in which I am speaking is altogether different.
In 1985-86, a young man from this very village, Raj Brar, came to meet me in Ludhiana. At that time, he only wrote songs and did not sing. He was strikingly handsome, the kind of face that satisfied the eyes. He had large, glass-like eyes.
Baldhir Mahla had sung one of his songs at that time. People then began searching for Raj Brar. Later, he started singing himself and sang many wonderfully sweet songs. With “Saadi Vaari Rang Mukya,” he earned immense affection from everyone.
The second Brar from this village whom I met was Dr Rajinder Singh Brar. He was a disciple of Lal Chand Yamla Jatt and a former student of Punjab Agricultural University. He has now been living in Fowler, California, for the past forty or fifty years.
Every year, he organises a fair in Fresno in memory of Yamla Jatt. He sings with a tumbi and becomes completely immersed in the performance. Ustad Yamla Jatt had performed at his wedding celebrations.
The third Brar from this village is Makhan Brar. I can see Punjab in his songs. Gurdas Maan Sahib once sang one of his songs:
Apna Punjab hove
I will not mention the next line because I disagree with the culture of homemade liquor and idleness. A young son sitting idle and acting like a nawab appears poisonous to me.
Most of his other songs have remained among my earliest favourites. Gill Hardeep sang this song written by Makhan in a powerful voice:
Kareen kite mel Rabba
Dilli te Lahore da.
Many of his other songs also live on people’s lips. A friend sent me one of his poems in Makhan’s own voice. I have transcribed it from there and am sharing it with you. A person passes forward only what he truly likes.
The way Makhan Brar, sitting near Niagara Falls close to Toronto, remembers and imagines his village through this poem is remarkable. Become a part of this wonder.
Kallh vatna da aaya supna
Addhi raat pehar de tadke.
Chaar chufere nazar ghumaai,
Pind di firni utte khad ke.
Jitthe main si turna sikhya,
Pio apne di ungli phad ke.
Na oh chhappad na oh pippal,
Na kidhre koi nalka khadke.
Kithe maan tere soot galote,
Kidhar gaye ajj tere charkhe.
Bade chiraan da bhukkha haan main,
Lia roti te makhni dhar ke.
Jehri ajj pakaai dhuppay,
Tu manje da ohla kar ke.
Tauri wala dudh lia de,
Laal hunda si jo kadh kadh ke.
Es madhani-goonj nu tarsa,
Paindi si jo tadke tadke.
Akk gaya main, thakk gaya main,
Vekhiyan bahut kamaiyan kar ke.
Hun maaye main sauna chaunda,
Teri godi vich sir dhar ke.
Maan de pairan hethaan jannat,
Mud aaya main chand te chadh ke.
Maan da rutba, ‘Makhan Brara,’
Milda joban gehne dhar ke.
Salutations to the soil of Mallke village, which gave not only Punjab but Punjabis settled across the entire globe three musical gems.
My son Puneet was telling me that Raj Brar’s son, Josh Brar, is also singing beautifully. Much love to the son who has proved the saying true:
“Sheran de putt sher.”
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