Author: Dr. Ronki Ram (ronkiram@yahoo.co.in)
Shaheed Bhagat Singh Chair Professor of Political Science, Panjab University, Chandigarh
Visiting Professor, Centre for Sikh and Panjabi Studies, University of Wolverhampton (UK)
The gruesome murder of Shubhdeep Singh Sidhu, aka Sidhu Moosewala, a globally popular rapper, lyricist and actor, on May 29, 2022, numbed millions of fans across the world.. He was shot dead in his Mahindra Thar SUV on the periphery of Jawaharke village which adjoined his native village – Moosa of Mansa district of Malwa Punjab. He decided to live in his native place, even after having experienced the widely touted glamour, along with the underplayed loneliness in the much sought-after localities of North America, laced with alluring ‘big money’ and ‘safe environs.’ It was not only his fast rapper talent but also his inimitable attachment with rural Punjab that ignited a sense of deep grief and agonizing mourning among his millions of fans across the whole globe, overtaken as they were by his being snatched away in just his late 20s. The tragedy struck at a time when his parents were looking forward to the marriage of their only child. It was heartrending to instead watch his parents decorating the corpse in bridal headgear for its last journey.
Sidhu Moosewala returned to his native village at a time when the overwhelming majority of his peer age group longed to emigrate, especially to Western Europe and North America. It was also a time when Punjab was in a deep malaise, and expected to not only become a desert in the near future, but also a graveyard for the hopes and aspirations of the upcoming generation with the stark reality of an existential agricultural crisis, failure to stem the tide of unemployment, a drug menace, and dwindling public education and health services.
Through his new genre of rap music (a motley of hip-hop, rap and Punjabi folk), Sidhu Moosewala depicted the glaring truth of his times without mincing words, whilst at the same time exhorting the youth demographic to realize that the solution to their hond (existence) did not lie in leaving their villages and submitting meekly to circumstances. His was a much-needed message of hope in an otherwise largely barren landscape, offering the vision that to lead a wholesome life one needs to respect and love one’s parents and ancestral lands first. Like the rap of Tupac Shakur, Drake and Burna Boy, Sidhu Moosewala introduced a new genre (to speak the truth fearlessly and rise against all odds) in the music realm of Punjab, which instantly touched the heart of the youth not only across rural-urban divide but also traditional caste-class boundaries. In his inimical style, he conveyed to Punjabi youth to never be afraid of adverse circumstances and keep your chin up, come what may! To convey his idea of valorously confronting adverse circumstances, it seems Sidhu Moosewala deployed the idiom of popular Punjabi Jatt culture in an allegorical referential manner rather than to eulogize its much-slandered caste angle. One can find enough evidence on social media that his references to Jatt life-style has nothing to do with caste prejudice. In Punjabi agrarian culture the term ‘Jatt’ is more than a caste title, being an all-encompassing exposition of the rural way of life, woven into its village-centric, simple, straightforward and fearless ethos.
In some of his most famous tracks – Dear Mama (My Dear Mother), Baapu (My Father), Punjab (My Motherland), Tibeyan Da Putt (Son of the Sand Dunes) and Selfmade – the simplicity and straightforwardness of Punjabi agrarian culture has been depicted graphically. In his track Dear Mama, Sidhu Moosewala says “Maan mainu lagda main jamma tere varga aan” (Mother, I think that I am just like you)”. And in Baapu, he says “Father you have done for me the whole life … now it is time to give that burden to me.” His love for his parents can be seen from the fact that he took pride in keeping his parents around him during his Akharas (concerts) – a deep sense of filial piety to be rarely seen among the youth today. He was also very humble in his day-to-day social dealings, and despite his world fame, was easily accessible to all, and the unwary might even mistake him for an everyday villager. All were welcome to click selfies with him, and when asked why he kept his eyes downward while interacting with those who came to interview him about his meteoric rise in the world of music, but thundered on the stage at the Akharas, his habitual reply used to be: “Well, in my personal and social life, I am like that, whereas at the stage I had to play to the gallery professionally”. It was for such locally rooted traits that Sidhu Moosewala became a legend across caste, class, creed and regional boundaries. A recent BBC News Punjabi video (https://fb.watch/dxzw2HdpQL/), which focused on youth in West Punjab, remembered Sidhu Moosewala for his simplicity, straightforwardness and guts to say spade a spade.
The global range of his rap genre is based on his intrepid lyrical discourse against the rat race of corporate-world and consumerist life-styles. There is a stark difference between the real life and life on the rap turf of Sidhu Moosewala. He did not sing weapon songs for self- glory, but for the popular logic of the market. In one of his interviews, he underlined that simple folk-rap tracks that he also sang, had failed to fetch much of a response in the cut-throat music market. Very often, he can be heard singing emphatically that the rise of a rural lad (himself) to the pinnacle of rap music has received praises all over the world, but not in his own courtyard. In fact, while challenging his peers to bring someone to compete (Jat da Mukabla) with him, he seemed to convey that there is a way to rise without leaving rural Punjab and to live away from ones near and dear. Given his fame and affluence, he could have easily settled in any metropolis not only in India but anywhere in the world, but preferred to live amongst his people in the land of his ancestors. His close attachment with his roots and concern for the improvement of his native surroundings instantly connected him with a massive number of youngsters as well as elders within a very short span leading to his meteoric rise. He did not just live physically in his village, but also respected and practiced the moral postulate of rural life.
As was narrated by his father, during the thanks giving ceremony after the conclusion of the antim ardas/Bhog of his slain son, Sidhu Moosewala never left home without touching the feet of his mother and father, and never kept the wallet in his pocket, always ask for money from his father. He often used to turn emotional, remembering his grandmother from the podiums of his music akharas (concerts), who motivated him never to cut his hair and wear a turban. It was for the meticulous obedience to the teachings of his grandmother that Sidhu Moosewala’s father appealed to all those who wanted to reach Mansa at the antim ardas of his son to come attired with turbans. As a matter of respect to Sidhu Moosewala’s commitment to traditional dress code, a pagri house businessman opened a unique langar of turbans (free distribution of turbans to the needy) at the site of the Bhog ceremony.
Another aspect of his being attached to the communitarian tradition of the culture at grassroots was the way he used to address the audience during the concerts. He is known for greeting ladies and gentlemen as Behnas and Matas (sister and mothers) and Bhravans and Buzurgs (brothers and venerable elders) respectively. At times, he was heard requesting the huge gatherings at his akharas to take extra care to leave the halls to reach home safely with special concern for the care of children. In one of his many earlier videos that turned viral after his ghastly murder, he can be seen consoling a weeping child who was slapped by someone. He motivated him not only to laugh but also recite a few lines of one of his many hits – uchiyan ne gallan tere yaar diyan.
A few above-mentioned narrations compel one to go beyond the visible aspects of Sidhu Moosewala and delve deeply into his ethereal cultural world to decipher his songs and penchant for tractors, cars, jeeps and guns. He never talked about drugs in his songs. When accused of, as he himself referred to in one of his viral videos, about consuming alcohol, he retorted that was fine but he never shaved off his eyebrows like his detractors. Though he talked about weapons, he was never heard of intimidating his adversaries. His fondness for guns was limited to self-defense as he often reiterated during many of his concerts that goes well with the valorous culture of the region. He is loved by millions across the East and West Punjab as well as large swathes of other parts of the world for his large-heartedness, rustic courage in speaking the truth. As for his hard-earned success, he always gave credit to Waheguru, his grandmother, and parents. Nonetheless, his father disclosed to the huge gathering at his Bhog ceremony that Sidhu Moosewala often complained about his failure to comprehend why his peers were jealous and indulged in ill-talk about him. This is an unfortunate, but prevailing reality of current Punjabi mindset, that success is often not lauded, but instead begrudged.
The murder of such a celebrity – who was both imploring and encouraging Punjabi youth to stick to their cultural roots and avoid abandoning their villages – in broad daylight raises many questions. It occurred at a time when most of the Punjabis are saying goodbye to their native homes and emigrating to foreign lands in the expectation of better education, career prospects and to escape from the pervasive drug menace. Though a lone, but forceful voice against this general exodus was silenced, the huge gathering at the antim adras of Sidhu Moosewala at his native place in Malwa Punjab, and the torrent messages of mourning on YouTube and Facebook from around the world, vindicated the assertion that ultimately it was Moosewala’s lived culture, along with its implicit values, which had left an indelible imprint upon the minds of ordinary people. Fond but poignant memories of a folk hero, a son of the soil, rather than any awe of material gains or the attendant but ephemeral glamour of an icon of an industry sprayed with stardust.