Gusse Ho Gaya Nand Kishore

S P Singh

In his subtle but touching study of a migrant labourer and his world, Punjab's uncrowned poet laureate Surjit Patar penned his poem Aaya Nand Kishore hinting at a problem which even nose-to-the-ground scribes woke up to much later. The poem describes how a weakling Nand Kishore boarded the Sialdah Express train, his Ramkali perched on the berth, shrinking within herself, and then how their daughter Madhuri is born amidst Punjabi atmosphere and ends up learning ‘Gurmukhi’ script even as sons of Punjabi jats go to convent schools to learn the English alphabet. 

After many hikes in wheat-paddy MSPs, and sarson-fields giving way to shopping malls, Patar's poem also lost the pace. Madhuri is now a grown up, speaks Punjabi, watches India Calling on coloured TV, and has cassettes of Daler Mehndi at home to tap her heels to. She seems little different from many Punjabis and off and on, one or the other Madhuri is getting married to a Jat's grandson. At times, troubles brew when Madhuri's little brothers at some places in Punjab grow into handsome Punjabi-speaking men skilled in the art of masonry, rise to become 'thekedars' , or one day elope with a jat's grand daughter 

After the migrants versus locals clash in Ludhiana last week, things will never be the same again. By the time the fracas ended, over 50 were left hurt and the precariously-preserved harmony lay shattered. Now, calling out derisively to a migrant by shouting ‘Oye Bhaiyia!’ may trigger off stone pelting.  

“The situation is under control,” a police officer jumped to a conclusion after two hours, thus covering a distance which sociologists would have taken years to reach. 

Sialdah Express still chugs as slowly, but culture runs on Shatabdi Express pace. Demography is changing culture, and many a troubles are brewing on Punjab's migrant labour front.  

Then some re-mixes are also happening. Many among the migrant labour from Bihar are turning to the Sikh religion and converting in a bid to reduce discrimination against them in the agricultural and labour sectors in Punjab.  

In Talhan village near Jalandhar, which saw boycott of dalits three years earlier, Punjabi-speaking Vijay Singh has married a Mithila-tongued Ram Dulari.

And surprise! surprise! Vijay originally belongs to the Purnea village of Bihar himself, he came as a migrant labour to Punjab 27 years ago and became a baptised Sikh while his wife joined him just three years back.  

A friend of Vijay, also a migrant, now sports a turban and is growing a beard. He found it a cheaper way to enhance his social status. Passers by sometimes hail to him as Giani ji if they have to ask what time it was.

In his own village, he is still fighting. He is still known as bhaiya, this time a "Sikh Bhaiyia". 

By a conservative estimate, Punjab has a million plus strong migrant labour population, largely from Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, employed in agriculture and industry. They are attracted by the higher wages they get in this state. Discrimination is yielding way to reluctant acceptance though they remain at the lowest end of the periphery.  

But then if they are asked by the police to become card-carrying members of the identified community, named all the time in newspapers and FIRs for every crime under the sun, sometimes the anger boils over.

Sialdah Express of course still runs. Some like Simranjit Singh Mann and Jaswant Singh Kanwal sometimes try to switch on the  red signal, pull a chain or block the tracks, but Madhuri's call in Punjabi beckons. Sialdah is always full. Achhar Singh’s sons still go to convent schools to learn ABC. Madhuri’s little kids study in Punjabi-medium teacher-less government schools. And Nand Kishore’s innumerable brothers are booked on Sialdah.  

August 27, 2006

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