Showing posts with label Punjab. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Punjab. Show all posts

Wednesday, 15 May 2024

Deep down we want some masala!

Amar Singh Chakila (Hindi, Punjabi; 2024)

Director: Imtiaz Ali


Whilst self-proclaimed intellectually minded individuals peruse the internet for minute-to-minute updates on the situation in Gaza, the masses are pretty contented sneaking into the WhatsApp communication between Aliff Aziz and Ruhainies, the latest two-timing pair of the Malaysian showbiz scene. Netizens feel for the wounded wife, Bella Astillah, who used to be Ruhainies' bosom buddy. 


Neither party, the 'intellectuals' or the regular people, can do anything to change the trajectory of the event. In no way do these events bring them their bread or make their lives more fruitful. But it allows the masses to divert their attention from their mundane lives. They do not want their lives to be complicated, but they find solace in finding how much muck goes on in people's lives. And how virtuous is theirs, until, of course, the readers' own story becomes the topic of the day…


Look around us at regions ruled by regimes which promote religion as their bedrock of creating a 'sinless' society. Paradoxically the regions turn out to be the ones with the most subscribers of Porn Hub, of rape, drug abuse, incest and domestic disharmony. 


My Malaysian Punjabi friends had not heard of this singer until this movie was shown on Netflix. Sure, they had heard that many Punjabi singers get killed, promote gun violence, and are misogynistic and vulgar, but somehow, Chamkila missed their radar. Now they know that he was once the highest-selling musician in Punjab and was even more popular than Amitabh Bachchan. Someone even referred to him as the 'Elvis of Punjab'. Sadly, he was gunned down while arriving for a show. He joined the now famous 'Club 27' - the talented musicians who conspicuously died at 27 - Cobain, Winehouse, Morrison, Hendrix and more. This was in the 80's.


Chamkila's story was that his songs were liked by the majority but no moral guardians of society. The moral guardians felt that Chamkila's vulgar, immoral song lyrics were not what the public wanted to hear. Funny, if that is not what the public wants to hear, how come his records are the highest grossers?


Chamila is not even his surname. It was given or maybe mispronounced by the introducer. Amar Singh started life in a lowly Dalit family, growing up in feuding families amidst a rather 'not-so-refined' neighbourhood. Caught in an unsatisfying job making socks, he composed songs to the tune of his musical instrument, the tumbi, during his free time.


A singer, Jinda, picked up his talent, and Amar Singh started writing songs for him. When Jinda failed to appear on time at one of his shows, Amar Singh had to fill in. The audience was so taken up by his rendition that they did not want Jinda when he eventually appeared later. Amar's singing career started then. After partnering with a few female singers, he stuck with Amorjit.


Amar and Amorjit became romantically linked. They got married. Only later did Amorjit find out that Amar was already married before.


The duo found success after success. Appointments were pouring from villages, towns and even overseas. There were criticisms regarding their overtly vulgar lyrics and crass tone of songs, but the money that came with the shows seemed to sanitise everything. When Amar's father got furious seeing that Amar had cropped his hair, his anger simmered down when Amar presented him with a stack of cash he earned singing. When his first wife and family got crossed when they discovered his clandestine marriage to Amorjit, everything was squashed with a promise of fat alimony and compensation.


Things became complicated when the Sikh elders and Kahalistani members accused him of corrupting the youth. Amar then started writing devotional songs and the call for freedom. The police construed these as dog whistles for the general public to rise up to the call of the Kahalistani movement. After all, this was the heady time after Indra Gandhi's assassination and national discontent with the Sikhs. Chamkila was confused. When the police and the religious people forbade him to sing his songs, the general public wanted more and more of his songs with raunchy lines about peeping toms and promiscuous MILFs. 


There was a strong suspicion that Khalistani hitmen killed Amar Singh Chamkila and Amorjit as they were getting down from their car for a performance at a small village on 8th March 1988, but nothing was proven. The killers are still at large.




Thursday, 14 September 2023

The state of a state

Kohrra (Fog, Punjabi-Hindi; 2023
Miniseries S1E1-6.


Shrouded in fog, that is how it is. It used to be the food basket of India and the provider of the country's most significant tax returns from its businesses and income earners. Punjab used to be prosperous. People of the diaspora have been instantly recognised worldwide for their resilience, entrepreneurial skills, confidence and ability to adapt and integrate. 


Sadly, the situation in their home state now is a far cry from what it used to be in its pre-independence days. The downward spiral started when a large chunk of the State was sliced away amid bloody butchering to satisfy specific political ambitions. Just as they recoiled back to health with the erection of a dam and the introduction of Green Revolution initiatives, they were the envy of many, including their poor Eastern cousins, Haryana. 


Religiosio-linguistic politics dictated that Hindi-speaking Hindu Himachal Pradesh and Haryana be cut off from the predominantly Sikh Punjabi province in a way that contributed to the tumultuous, violent sectarian politics of Akali Dal, Bindrawale and Operation Blue Star. After that, it was downhill all the way. The Punjabis missed the bus that brought various revolutions: IT, automobile manufacturing, biotechnology and retail. Haryana went places.


20th century Punjab sees an average Punjabi dying to get out of Punjab to get a green card in Canada. Hardy, hardworking Sadarjis are replaced by drug-peddling, gun-wielding gangsters who glorify female objection in their music videos. Then there is a constant external pressure to demand an independent country of Khalistan where Gurmukhi is the script, and Sikh is the national religion, which will be in harmony with their neighbour, Pakistan, so they believe. 


Interestingly, Chandigarh is the common
capital of Punjab and Haryana.

This miniseries, a compelling six-episode first season, brings the audience to the daily dealings of two small-town police officers. It paints an unsettling township where the police have too much power and too much on their plate. Police brutality is the norm, and it seems justified in wanting to mete justice to the grieving family. Opulence is the game the wealthy display to claim their societal role. Family pride takes precedence over everything else. 


Life is cheap, and people can be knocked off for a song. Truth somehow gets buried somewhere in the chaos of things, much like how the splendour of the Saraswati river and its civilisation disappeared into annal of times. 


At least, this is what I, as a non-resident of Punjab, take home after watching this miniseries. It starts with the death of a soon-to-be-married NRI groom found dead in the field with his pants down. The investigating police officer teases out in piecemeal all the undercurrents behind the death. The officer himself has a complicated back story. Losing his wife to depression, he cannot see eye to eye with his adult daughter. His daughter, married with a young child, hates her husband and has an affair. 


Meanwhile, the bride to the deceased groom has a morbidly clingy musician boyfriend who tries everything to regain his beau. But the boyfriend also has a side chick. The dead groom's boyfriend, who came from the UK, is also missing. Now, where is he?


With everyone breathing down his neck, the grieving groom's family, the anxious UK mother, and the aggressive groom's father handling his family issues and pressure from his superiors, sub-inspector Balbir Singh has to tie all the loose knots and close the case. Forgot to mention that Balbir Singh also fancies the widow of a former informant whom he killed!


With such a bizarre storyline, there is no guessing what will happen next. It all makes sense in the end, like most things in life. Nothing is really so straightforward. Nothing is black or white.


P/S. It would appear on the surface that emigration improves one's standard of living to emulate the citizens of their host, to grow and be part of the nation. Wrong! It is true what the migrants want is a peaceful existence, the ability to prove one's purpose of existence, to impart wisdom to the next generation and a final seamless transition to the Otherside with the least morbidity. The host country believes it can assist with resources; in return, the arrivals should blend into the system. Integration, the newcomers will not do for they are convinced their hosts are inferior for the arrivals brought in with them the real civilisation, which is superior and time tested. This is evident in this miniseries. Despite being an NRI, whom one would perceive to have progressive thoughts in sync with the Western world, here the father is showing none of those. Even though he left his home country because it was not good enough to nurture his family, he still brings his old ancient belief systems. 


Saturday, 11 June 2022

Remembering Jallianwala Bagh massacre...

Sardar Udham (Hindi; 2021)
Director: Shoojit Sircar

One always wonders how a cult started by a group of semi-literate fishermen at the fringe of the Roman Empire by the Sea of Galilee could eventually grow up to impress the whole of the Empire, including its rulers. This rebel's rhetorics soon triggered justified wars and legitimised usurping of lands to claim their hegemony. The belief system garnered potential believers because it targeted the oppressed or the persecuted. The marginalised and the dying were given the dignity to exist with others on Earth. In return, the converts were willing to trade in their lives (or, in their words, sell their soul) for the religion. Yes, martyrdom played an essential role in recruiting more new members. 

As India goes on a spree to rewrite its national history, more and more heroes of yesteryears come to the fore. Sardar Udham Singh (@ Sher Singh @ Ram Mohammad Singh Azad) is one such example. He had been conferred the title Shaheed-i-Azam Sardar Udham Singh, the great martyr, after Indian Independence to honour him as one of the freedom fighters in India's war of Independence. He is credited for assassinating Michael O'Dwyer, the former Lt Governor of Punjab who gave orders to Brigadier-General Reginald Dyer to open fire on a crowd of 20,000 inside Jallianwala Bagh, an enclosed park, in 1919. These people congregated in an enclosed garden near the Golden Temple in Amritsar to celebrate Vaisakhi, at the same time, to express their protest against the British colonial masters for arresting Congress Party's satyagraha proponents, Satya Pal and Saifuddin Kitchlew. The congregants were accused of violating the law, which banned any assembly of more than four people.

Udham Singh
Udham Singh from an orphanage, himself a late teenager, was witness to the brutal assault at Jallianwala Bagh. Deeply traumatised by the whole event, he joined the movements of the masses to oust mighty Britain from their country. He, a member of the Hindustan Socialist Republican Movement, made it his life mission to assassinate the perpetrators of the killings at Jallianwala Bagh. The army shot at the unarmed civilians not to warn them but on a mission to kill. They hit till their enormous cache of bullets ran out.

Udham Singh was running away from the British Imperial Police all his life. He crept out of India, through Germany and Russia and finally sneaked into England. His revolutionary activities were influenced by Bhagat Singh and the Gaddarites, the overseas Indians who supported India's quest for self-rule. 

21 years after the incident at Jallianwala Bagh, Udham Singh shot Michael O'Dwyer in cold blood after he delivered a lecture in London. This film gives a rundown account of this whole saga, spending a lot of time on the aftermath of the shooting and death at Jallianwala Bagh.

Monday, 12 July 2021

Memories are made of these?

Sardar ka Grandson (Hindi, Sardar's Grandson; 2021)
Netflix

Somebody was comparing two pieces of land that were carved out of a more significant portion of land, circa 1947-48. See how the parent state reacts to the other. What a contrast!  In 1947, the Muslim state of Pakistan (1,030,000 km²) was carved out of a large piece of land that was essentially Buddhist/Hindu for thousands of years. Despite all the bloodshed and emotional trauma that accompanied this creation, India, by and significant accepted the turn of historical events and carried on with life, trying to improve itself.

In contrast, the tiny Jewish State of Israel  (22,000 km²) was reborn in 1948 after 2000 years in a place where their forefathers, thousands of years previously before, were exiled. Yet, their neighbours and their yeomen are hellbent on the state's annihilation. The problem is where to mark the beginning of history and selective bias of record to determine who was there first. 

Since its inception, Israel has been defending itself from hostile neighbours. It had turned a deaf ear to curses from many of their proxies. Collectively, the enemies of Israel have made it a crusade to fight the land held sacred by other believers as well, Christians and Baha'is included. Still, there can be no place for intellectual discourse. Instead of living in harmony with its neighbours as the great scriptures advocate and improving their living standards, they chose anarchy. There has been no peace for the past 70 years.

When someone loses a place that they call home, what do they actually lose? Is it the physical space occupied by the person, or is it the memories associated with the place? Can the experiences and feelings be quantifiable? Is it justified to live brooding over lost land, living in melancholy reminiscing on how things were? Or should we accept it as the ever-changing tide of history and move on? Cambodia was once a race of master builders. Greece was where people of Europe started thinking beyond their primal, animalistic needs. But look at them now. Wind of change does not escape anyone.

Maybe it is trans-generational trauma of sorts, or perhaps it will be forgotten as the older generation, which was there in flesh and blood during the 1947 Partition. The event has affected the Punjabi community tremendously. 

This 2021 light comedy tells the tale of a Punjabi American immigrant (Amreek) who has to return urgently to Amritsar to visit his 90-year-old ailing grandmother, Sardar Kaur. In the USA, he runs a moving business with his fiancée, Radha. Due to his lackadaisical attitude and bumbling demeanour, they part ways.

Back in India, his grandmother's dying wish is to visit her former home in Lahore. Before the Partition, she and her husband had built a home. She had to leave it in desperation when Pakistanis moved in and killed her husband. So get a visa and go, right? The problem is that the grandmother is denied entry to Pakistan. On record, she has assaulted a Pakistani official many years before, as a spectator, before during a friendly cricket match. 

By then, Radha has moved on to other things. Amreek once witnesses her advertisement of her translocating a whole tree. Amreek decides to do the same for Sardar's house. As fate would have it, the official whom Sardar had assaulted is now Lahore's mayor, and he is not going to give the permit for translocation so easily. As expected, Amreek is successful, he and Radha are united, Sardar is happy, and the film managed to portray an image of buffoonery on the people of Pakistan and their officials. Perhaps that is the reason why the film fared so poorly on IMDB and Rotten Apples' scales.  The leftist media have to stand in support of their brethren. An enemy of my enemy is my friend.

The movie is average, but there are a lot of loopholes in the storyline. Imagine navigating a double-storey townhouse through the narrow and diabolical streets of Lahore on a trailer. If the viewers were to look beyond all these faux pas, they might enjoy this romcom.

Tuesday, 22 October 2019

No country for intelligence

Salam - The First ****** Nobel Laureate
(2019 Netflix)

His tombstone was defaced. The epitaph which read 'The First Muslim Nobel Laureate' had, with the Government decree, the word 'Muslim' be removed from the headstone. Professor Abdus Salam, the first Pakistani and Muslim scientist to win the prestigious award, was of the Ahmadi faith. The country felt that he was not Muslim enough to claim to be one. Even Pakistani textbooks do not mention him as a national hero. The younger generation has not heard of him.

His story is of particular importance to a country like ours as we seem to be pursuing the same rabbit hole as their Big Brother Pakistan took when they clawed themselves off Hindustan back in 1947. Instead of speeding forward from the race-line, they took a backward trajectory that may send them back to the Stone Age. Rather than investing in human capital and knowledge-based activities, they have only successfully managed to shoo off intellectual away from Pakistan. Left behind are the blind followers, yeoman, sluggards and conmen. Academics like Pervez Hoodbhoy, the MIT trained nuclear physicist, and Tarek Fateh, the Canadian-Pakistani media-man, can only do so much to knock some semblance of sense into the system. In return, they are labelled traitors for putting down their nation.

The recent turn of events in Malaysia, with their association with the leaders of Turkey and Pakistan, put us in the same basket as them. The joke is on us, but we are too blind to see. This country has become no place for the intelligent and thinking individual. 

One can see the parallelism between Abdus Salam's early life to that of the great modern Indian Mathematician Ramanujan. An apparent child prodigy right from the start, he grew up in humble beginnings in Jhang, a small village in Punjab (which became part of Pakistan). From the surroundings of a ricketty town, at a tender age, he understood everything about electricity even when his village had never received any electricity.

Excelling in every public examination and even writing a Mathematic paper for publication titled ' A problem of Ramanujan' earned him a place in Cambridge around 1946-47. He was financed by a peasants' cooperative scholarship. 

Even though he escaped the turmoil of Partition, he had a tough time in the United Kingdom. Food was a major problem. Surviving primarily on macaroni cheese, he completed his Ph D and returned to Pakistan in 1951 as a professor in Mathematics in Government College in Lahore. He was obviously overqualified and intellectually isolated there. The Ahmadiyya sect was always a thorn in the flesh for the Sunni-majority Pakistan. In 1953 a riot broke out. Their esteemed leader is said to have claimed to be a prophet, the fabled Mahdi and even the Christian Messiah. 

Abdus Salam left Pakistan permanently for a post of Professor in Imperial College, London.

His academic career skyrocketed from then on. At one instance, he almost won a Nobel prize. If only a senior colleague had not shot down his research, he would have published it. His idea was picked by a Chinese physicists duo who received the coveted award afterwards. 

When often asked how we got all the knowledge that he possessed, he would often point up as if he received his revelations from above. This ring a bell to Ramanujan's assertion that he received his formulas from Goddess Namagiri.

Abdus Salam continued involving himself later in developing nuclear energy for peaceful purposes for Pakistan as requested by Presiden Zulkifar Ali Bhutto. This did not last long. With the change of leadership as the conservatives held the helm, President Zia ul Haq with the blessings of the religious councils, declared Ahmadis as heretics in 1974.
Another bloodbath reminiscent of 1947 Partition took place. Believers from the Ahmadiyya sect were decapitated, maimed or slaughtered. Scenes of blood-stained train coaches with mutilated passengers gave Pakistanis a deja vu.

In 1979, Professor finally received the elusive Nobel Prize. He went on to develop scientific research in developing countries. He was keen to offer himself as a candidate for the post of the Director-General of UNESCO, but Pakistan refused to back his application.

He finally succumbed to motor neuron disease and was eventually buried in Pakistan.


Garbed in traditional attire during Nobel Prize awards, he quoted a verse from the Quran that suggests that religion and science should not diverge but instead complement each other. He did not see religion as a deterrent to acquiring knowledge but paradoxically a nidus to do so. ©Getty Image.

A very touching documentary which highlights the dangers when stupid people hold too much power. When race and religion supersede rational thinking, the collapse of civil society and social structure is imminent. Like body odour, stupidity is only realised by the individuals around them, not the bearer of the stench or the idiots.


The Persecution of Pakistan's Ahmadiyya Sect



Friday, 8 July 2016

Life, meant to be enjoyed?

Udta Punjab (Punjab on a High; Hindi-Punjabi, 2016)

The world is a stage, and we are all actors, or rather we are puppets whose strings are tightly spun around by the puppet-masters. The masters here are people in power who control one thing that everything is clamouring for - money. The people are the big business magnates and conglomerates who work in cahoots with the politicians to put forward their agenda - more profit.

They do not care it causes decadence of the society or that it brings social inequality or problems. They do not care if it breaks down families or wreck marriages. They do not care if those productive years of a youngster go down the drain. People all over the world are miserable and yearn for a way to be happy. The entrepreneurs have a way.

Ever since Columbus and his jolly men found the happy Aztecs climbing the high plains of Andes to build temples for the Gods, whistling like the Seven Dwarfs marching to the mine, things were never the same. The Coca plant and its extracts were promoted as the panacea of all maladies, from headaches to alcoholism. After many generations, they now have it- designer drugs more than its predecessors which could take you to places where no man has been before. Humans, forced to live in artificial societal conditions, always wanted to release the primordial needs. They always wanted to be free, happy without a care in the world. Drugs just snuggly fit the vacuum with the help of businesspeople as go-betweens.

After reaping all the monetary remunerations, they just laugh all the way to the bank before their scheme is discovered. It is not a single agent's hard work, but it is beautifully choreographed by other enterprising partners-in-crime. These associates betrayed the trust that the society had bestowed upon them. But who cares, anyway? As long as rice bowl is protected and their interest is taken care of, Que Sera Que Sera.

This film highlights the clear and present danger that lurks in the state of Punjab. Due to its proximity to the poppy growing areas in Afghanistan, the porous border and the not so virtuous officials, the state poses a high risk of becoming like Mexico where drug lords rule the country either directly or indirectly.

After a protracted battle with the censors, the movie is available for viewing. It narrates three individual's life story which is negatively affected by dope. A Bihari girl working as agricultural helper accidently comes across a pack of heroin when it is thrown across the border from Pakistan to Punjab meant for a dealer. She tries to sell herself to make money but gets into serious trouble. Then there is a junkie rock star who is indirectly promoting drug-infused lifestyle through his concerts. His self-realisation comes a little bit too late as he is wanted by the law. Then, there is a drug-overdosed teenager who is rehabilitated by a district hospital doctor. The teen's brother and the doctor do some undercover work to unravel the clandestine drug production in the state.

It is an eyeopener on the real problem that is hitting many parts of the world. The promotion of a carefree, hedonistic and irresponsible lifestyle by people who considered heroes have a significant impact on teenagers. They think their heroes can do no wrong. Whatever their icons do, it must be right! We are lambs having herd mentality marching straight to the slaughter.

Thursday, 11 June 2015

The sad tale of riches to rags!

Thanks to RS for opening my eyes to show me that there are many more things unknown to me...
The fascinating tale of Maharaja Daleep Singh who relinquished the Koh-i-Noor to become the most prominent fixture in Queen Victoria’s court. But his Indian past came back to haunt him, writes Ammar Ali Qureshi –
A young Maharajah Daleep Singh
Maharaja Ranjit Singh is arguably the most remarkable figure in Punjab’s history. His son and last ruler of the Sikh Empire, Daleep Singh, is perhaps the most tragic. Ranjit succeeded his father as head of a small confederacy at the age of ten and, owing to his military genius, became the ruler of Punjab when he was twenty-one. He turned the tide of history by taking the battle to the land of the invaders on the western front, and conquered them; His empire, which lasted for fifty years from 1799 to 1849, stretched from the southern districts of Punjab to Afghanistan in the west Kashmir (which also included Ladakh and Gilgit and Baltistan) in the north-east, and up to Sutlej (which flows through Indian states of Punjab, Haryana and Himachal Pardesh) in the east. Ranjit’s greatest achievement, however, was not military but political conquest, as he was able to unite Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs under one banner. Ranjit Singh died in 1839 and in just ten years a combination of treacherous and intriguing courtiers, incompetent rulers, and an assertive and aggressive but leaderless army brought the empire of an exceptional man to a humiliating end. Within four years of Ranjit’s death, his three successors were murdered; Daleep Singh, born in Lahore in 1838 to Ranjit’s youngest wife Maharani Jind Kaur, became the boy-king at the age of five in 1843 with his ambitious mother as the regent.
Daleep Singh as country gentleman


Following Ranjit’s death and during the rule of his weak successors, the Punjab Khalsa army emerged as the kingmaker, the most powerful player in the state which dictated its demands through its delegates known as Panchayats or Committees of Five. Maharani Jind Kaur and her scheming courtiers were wary of the army’s power and devised a plan to tame it by provoking it to invade British territory across the Sutlej, in the hope that it would be cut down to size by the British or its energies would be exhausted in the campaigns of conquest. It turned out to be a major miscalculation as the British coveted Punjab and considered Lahore Durbar an obstacle in their expansion plans. The invasion gave them the impetus to move eastward, defeating the Khalsa army, after fiercely fought battles, in the First Anglo-Sikh War in 1846. The Maharani was removed from the guardianship of her son, imprisoned initially in Punjab and later banished to Benares in present-day Uttar Pradesh, from where she escaped to Nepal and lived there virtually as a prisoner till 1861. Daleep Singh was placed under the guardianship of the Council of Regency, controlled by a British Resident, till his eventual dethronement when Punjab was annexed in 1849.
Victoria and Koh-i-Noor 
The Anglo-Sikh wars of 1846 and 1849 were the fiercest and deadliest that the British encountered in India. So grave was the situation that the British Governor General, Sir Henry Hardinge, had to come to the aid of the British Commander in Chief, Sir Hugh Gough, and served under him. On the Punjab Khalsa army side, it was a lack of efficient leadership which resulted in defeat, although they were able to inflict colossal losses on the British. The rank and file of the Khalsa army put up the bravest and steadiest of fights against the British. However, their military generals were political figures, appointed by the ruling family, who lacked military expertise, indulged in double-dealing, and were traitors within the gates. –


In 1845, the Sikh Generals crossed the Sutlej but deliberately did not attack Ferozepur, the forward British base. The battles were fought at Mudki, Ferozeshah, Aliwal, and Sabraon – all of them fiercely contested by both sides. Each of these battles might have been a defeat for the British if the traitorous Punjabi military commanders had not left the field. The same story was repeated in 1849 in the battles of Ramnagar, Chilianwala and Gujrat – as the Sikh soldiers fought fearlessly but were let down by their commanders. “No troops could have fought better,” observed military historian G.B Malleson, “than the Sikhs fought, no army could have been worse led. Had a guiding mind directed the movements of the Sikh army, nothing could have saved the exhausted British.”

Maharani Bamba, Daleep Singh’s wife

The conditions of surrender in 1849 required Daleep to renounce his title to the sovereignty of Punjab, ordered confiscation of state property, and demanded the surrender of the spectacular and sparkling Koh-i-Noor diamond to Queen Victoria. Daleep, in return, was granted a pension, provided he remained “obedient to the British Government”.

All of the Kingdom’s property, including the Koh-i-noor and other jewels, now belonged to the British

Rajmohan Gandhi writes about the end of Lahore Durbar in his recently published history of Punjab: “On 29 March 1849, a ten-year-old Dalip Singh was told to sign a document. Writing his name in Roman letters, the boy-king renounced, on his behalf and on behalf of all heirs and successors, every ‘right, title or claim’ to Punjab. All of the Kingdom’s property, including the Koh-i-noor and other jewels, now belonged to the British. The Sikh kingdom gone, all of Punjab was annexed to British India. The proclamation of annexation read out that day was received by those present with silence”.
Daleep Singh statue at Thetford, Suffolk



The real plan was to convert Daleep to Christianity

In 1850, Daleep was moved to Fatehgarh, a center of Christian missionaries located on the bank of the Ganges in present-day Uttar Pradesh, and placed under the guardianship of a Scottish army doctor, Dr. John Login. Previously tutored in Persian and Gurmukhi, Daleep was taught English in addition to Persian and made to read the Bible. Ostensibly, he had been removed from Punjab due to fear of further rebellion, but the real plan was to convert Daleep to Christianity and exile him to England. In 1853 Daleep converted to Christianity, which as the British Governor General wrote rendered Daleep politically irrelevant to the Sikhs, and sailed to England a year later, receiving a twenty-one gun salute at Malta and Gibraltar after a brief stopover in Egypt. He arrived in London in the summer of 1854 and very soon was invited by Buckingham Palace. The first meeting between the fifteen-year old Indian prince and thirty five-year old Queen Victoria, who would continue to have profound influence on his subsequent life, went very well and Daleep became an instant favourite of the British monarch. She described him as ‘extremely handsome’ and possessing ‘a graceful and dignified manner’. She was so impressed that she commissioned her favourite artist to paint his portrait. Prince Albert, her husband, had a special coat of arms designed for him. He partied with the crème de la crème of Victorian Britain and seduced a string of society beauties Although Victoria never visited India, she was drawn to all things Indian and enjoyed the company of the English-speaking young Maharajah. She remained a friend and a supporter to his last day as their relationship weathered many storms in the next four decades. Daleep was regularly invited to all social events at Buckingham Palace and was addressed as “Your Serene Highness”. He partied with the crème de la crème of Victorian Britain and seduced a string of society beauties. Her Majesty even tried her hand at match-making and suggested the exiled Raja of Coorg’s daughter, who was also her god-daughter, as a suitable match to Daleep, who politely declined saying that he wanted to wait till the age of twenty-one or twenty-two before he got married. Interestingly, Daleep, a few years later, introduced the exiled princess to an English widower, whom she married.
Maharani Jind Kaur, Daleep Singh’s mother. 


As an infant in Punjab, Daleep loved falconry and learned to hunt and shoot. In England, he took to the countryside and indulged in his passion of game-shooting. He travelled through Europe in 1857 and it was in Geneva when he first came to know about the Indian revolt and mutiny in Meerut. Daleep was unwilling to condemn it and when the British foreign secretary complained about his attitude to the queen, she answered that a young Indian prince, barred from his ancestral throne and forced to live in Britain, should not be expected to denounce Indians. Back in 1849 Daleep had been coerced to hand over the Koh-i-Noor to the British Governor General in India. One day when he was having his usual conversations with Queen Victoria at Buckingham Palace she showed him the famous diamond. Daleep took it towards the window and examined it intensely for more than half an hour without uttering a word. Her Majesty’s staff displayed anxiety as they thought he might throw it out of the window but Daleep came back to the queen and handed it back to her with the words: ‘It is to me, Madam, the greatest pleasure thus to have the opportunity, as a loyal subject, of myself tendering to my sovereign the Koh-i-Noor.
Princess Bamba Sutherland in traditional dress after her move to Lahore


Daleep enjoyed the life of an English country gentleman and acquired, through a British government loan, a sprawling 17,000 acre estate at Elveden, Suffolk, located in the north-east of London. He loved his Elveden estate and converted it into an Indian-style palace, the interiors done up in Mughal and Indian décor and equipped with expensive carpets, ceramics and glassware. Elveden had a huge aviary which housed his rare collection of birds and a number of cheetahs, leopards and monkeys were kept in a menagerie. Turning Elveden into one of the best sporting venues in the country, Daleep reveled in hosting parties for Victorian aristocracy where the Prince of Wales was a regular guest for shooting games. In 1861, Daleep travelled to India and brought his mother to Britain. He was not permitted to visit Punjab and had an emotional reunion with his mother, meeting her after nearly 14 years, in Calcutta, which was then the capital of British India. Maharani Jind was perceived by the British as a bad influence and an intriguer by disposition. Back in London, she was not allowed to live with Daleep and was lodged up in Kensington in west London. Her residence was a source of wonder for her London neighbors who would often stop to have a look at the basement, where her Indian cooks would be busy preparing her food, and sniff the pungent smells of Indian curry! Maharani Jind Kaur had wanted her ashes to be interred at the Maharaja Ranjit Singh memorial in Lahore British suspicions about Maharani Jind were not unfounded; she informed Daleep about the supposed prophecy of the tenth Sikh guru regarding an exiled prince who would come back to rule Punjab. This prophecy would bother Daleep’s mind a lot in years to come. Maharani was in poor health, nearly blind, and suddenly died in 1863. Daleep again travelled to India to cremate her in Bombay as he was not allowed to visit Punjab, although his mother had wanted her ashes to be interred at Maharaja Ranjit Singh memorial in Lahore.
Princess Bamba’s grave at the ‘gora kabristan’ in Lahore


On his way back, he stopped at Cairo and married, in June 1864, a missionary school teacher, Bamba Muller, an illegitimate daughter of an Ethiopian Coptic slave and Ludwig Muller who was a German businessman. Bamba lived with him in Elveden and gave birth to seven children – two of whom died in infancy. His five children – two sons and three daughters-lived like royalty in the sprawling mansion. Both sons – Victor and Fredrick – went to Eton and Cambridge and gained commission in the British army. His three daughters – Bamba, Sophia and Catherine studied at Oxford.

Daleep Singh’s life can be divided into four distinct phases: boy-king, dethronement and banishment outside Punjab, exile to England and life as an English country gentleman, and a rebel who plotted but did not succeed in reclaiming his throne. The last phase of his life started around 1880 when he read for the first time about the circumstances leading to his dethronement and conditions attached with annexation. Swayed by feelings of resentment and revenge and spurred on by the prophecy of the tenth guru, Daleep entered into a long battle with the British government, arguing about the illegality of the annexation of Punjab and demanded that he be reinstated as the Maharaja. Victoria offered him peerage in the House of Lords but he declined although he was facing financial problems and his health had begun to deteriorate. He read; he schemed; he failed. British spies kept a close eye on him and intercepted his mail to foil his plans. Having resigned the stipend given to him by the British government, Daleep, along with his family, boarded the ship, in 1886, and informed the government that he was going to India to reclaim his throne. He was detained at Aden in Yemen where he re-embraced the Sikh faith. Daleep sent his family back to England but himself went to Paris.
Elveden Hall, home of Raja Daleep Singh 
He lived in Paris for six years, dreaming and planning to return to India

Conspiring with Russian and Irish revolutionaries in Paris, he escaped to Russia but could not get an audience with the Czar although he wrote on his file that he could be used at some later stage. Fate had not yet finished her sport with Daleep. His Russian patron suddenly passed away and with him died any chances of winning over any Russian support for his plan to enter Punjab through the Khyber Pass. His wife expired in England while he was in Russia but in Paris he had acquired an English mistress, Ada Wetherhill, whom he married on his return to Paris and had two daughters with – Alexandra and Ada Irene Helene. By then his health had started deteriorating as his financial position became weaker by the day. His son tried to bring about reconciliation between him and Queen Victoria, who met him in France, in 1891, and pardoned him as he wept through the meeting.
Duleep Singh’s grave at Elveden 


Daleep was born in a royal palace in Lahore and brought up by a legion of servants and courtiers. He inherited the most powerful and rich of the Indian states, which was many times larger than Britain. But in October 1893, Daleep passed away in a small hotel room in Paris, alone and penniless. His dead body was taken back to Elveden where he was buried, next to his first wife and youngest son, in the church’s graveyard. His daughter settled in Lahore and married the Principal of the King Edward Medical College Princess Bamba Sofia, his eldest daughter, went to India in 1924 and took her grandmother’s ashes from Bombay to Lahore to be interred there as per her wish. Bamba settled in Lahore, married the Principal of King Edward Medical College, Mr Sutherland, and died in Lahore in 1957 – ten years after partition. Daleep’s one son and three daughters married but surprisingly none of them had any children – bringing Ranjit’s lineage to an end after two generations although his name continues to inspire many.

The author’s ancestors served as chief Qazis of Punjab during the reigns of Ranjit Singh and his successors till the fall of the Lahore Durbar in 1849.

“Be afraid. Be very afraid.”*