‘The world is afraid to see a mustache like the English letter W of Jatt. The name shines like a star. Where Jim stands, the enemy’s legs are seen hanging from the window of the jeep. There is a loaded 0.45 gun on the waist, which rips open the chest.’
These words are from Sidhu Musewala’s song ‘Bambiha Bole’ in which the All Culture Summit came about which he promoted and on Sting’s injury.
Is this what was left to sell in the name of Punjabi culture?
Flashing sports cars, one hand on a mustache and a rifle in the other. A gold chain around the neck. A tongue full of violence and a boast that touches the sky. You may insist on calling it a representation of Punjabi culture, but it is a fire that clings to your own feet, no matter how high you are in fame.
Sidhu Musawala was not just a singer but a poet before him who used words with sharp and crooked lines. The rest of the reinforcements are provided by a crowd of investors for whom money is everything. Chalda Punjab or Lahinda Punjab, how many people have ever even seen the shape of a sports car? But how could the Jattaan De Munde song have been shot without this lash push. The young generation imprisoned in the well of social media started dreaming of this dream while they were sleeping and Sidhu Musawala kept throwing fresh goods in the market.
Pakistan’s Punjabi film industry once took a similar flight from cool culture, but before it could make a social impact, it was overtaken by Kalashnikov Jihad. Another obvious difference was the absence of social media in this era.
The audience of today’s young Indian singers is the fresh new generation that just uploading a video on Instagram, Facebook or YouTube is enough to reach. Imagine that Sidhu Mosewala has 89 lakh Instagram followers alone. Now how is it possible that young people do not create in their imaginary world the features of the world they see day and night on the mobile screen.
Sidhu Musawala became his hero, so whoever disagreed with him remained a ‘dog’ and had to think of himself as a ‘lion’ at least. Banda Pharkao and Farate Bharti car started resounding with the songs of Sidhu Moses Wale.
Jathde Banda is guilty of killing
Jat belongs to this village
Sidhu’s influence reached the common youth in the rural areas of Punjab, but the way the ‘self-made pop sensation’ promoted a culture of hollow exhibitionism among Punjabis abroad is a different level.
So much money is lost by going out that if the person comes back for some time, he buys another flashy car, even if it is not a sports car. A white suit, a gun on his shoulder, three or four handguns and small fights in the streets have become his favorite pastime. What would be the most likely case? But why should we be afraid of this when Sidhu Paji has said that ‘Landwan ni pindiyan sada malantaan, kas kos pinde mardan te sohne.’
How Sidhu became a part of our culture along with guns and gang culture as well as bragging about the limits of bigotry, let’s examine in the light of three of his ‘masterpiece’ songs.
Sanju (2020)
Sidhu Mosewala was arrested for firing the Kalashnikov. After being released on bail, Sidhuji released a song in which he drew parallels between his arrest and Sanjay Dutt’s arrest.
In the video of the song, Sanjay Dutt’s arrest in 1993 and newspaper headlines are clearly seen while Sidhu himself is present with a Kalashnikov slung over his shoulder. See the translation of a few lyrics of this song in Urdu and just look at the lips and tone of Mansa’s Sanju.
‘Those who are distributing ladoos in joy of my going to jail, I will come out and gift them all. He who has taken enmity will not survive.’
He is very happy that the case was made and went to jail because ‘cases on men continue to be made.’ All it will do is ‘fame records will be broken.’ Who doesn’t need fame? Then what do you think the gun should be taken away?
This song has been listened to seven and a half million times on YouTube alone.
Legend (2019)
After Sidhu’s tragic death, a line became much talked about and kept circulating on social media, ‘Dil Nahi Maada Tera Sidhu Moose Aala.’ At first, it seemed like this song would be a little less catchy, but Sidhu did not disappoint.
Such an expression of self-deprecation and pride can only be done by a legend like him. The lyrics of the tape are self-deprecating, but their trademark deep commitment to violence is also fully reflected. See a few lines ‘I have a licensed pump action gun. Six bullets are fired at a time, so there is no chance of mis-targeting. My beloved is not a beautiful maiden but a gun.’
Dushman Kaise Kum Jaat and ‘Kate’ while Sahib song is Jat and ‘Sher’, to know more details, listen to the song on YouTube where it has received 13.4 crore views so far.
Bombay Bole (2019)
Gangster Devendra Bombeha’s gang and their fight with the Lawrence Bishnoi gang has claimed many lives. Sidhu’s opponents link him to the Bombayha group on two grounds. For one, the name of his manager Shagunpreet came up in Madukhira’s murder.
Second, this song is described as a eulogy of the Bombayha group. Whether or not it is a tribute to Bombay, the gangster culture is presented in an intensely dreamy way.
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‘The world is afraid to see a mustache like Jatt’s W. The name shines like a star. Where Jim stands, the enemy’s legs are seen hanging from the window of the jeep. A fully loaded .45 gun on the waist that rips through the chest.’
Not only that, but ‘the police chase him till midnight.’ Full Dawn image. The song has been viewed 17.8 million times on YouTube alone.
A culture of Punjab was what Ahmad Rahi painted in his songs. For example, nami nami wa vagdi, challan pei mardi joani jatti hir di, vanjali waldia, meri chani diyan reshmi tandan, me chham chham nachan, zulfan di thandi thandi chaan dholana.
A level of resistance is what appears in Pausch’s poetry. On the other hand, violence, gang-banging, extortion and extreme Buddhist ethnic pride remained the trademark of our superstar.
Seeing Sidhu Mousewala’s helpless mother crying, Kaleja is heartbroken. Be it millions of followers or none at all, for a mother, her son is the biggest superstar. Tears in his eyes do not flow according to the number of followers.
What will happen to those mothers whose poor livers are or will be exposed to this culture? There will be no trend for them, nor will the headline that ‘A mother has lost a son and Punjab has lost a superstar’.
#Sidhu #Musewala #left #sell #Punjabi #culture
Interview with Cultural Critic Ranjit Singh on the Impact of Sidhu Moosewala’s Music
Interviewer: Thank you for joining us today, Ranjit. Let’s dive right into Sidhu Moosewala’s influence on Punjabi culture. Many argue that while he was a talented artist, his lyrics promote a culture of violence and materialism. What are your thoughts?
Ranjit Singh: Thank you for having me. Sidhu Moosewala was undoubtedly a remarkable talent; he had an innate way of capturing the essence of his surroundings, but there’s a darker side to his artistry. His lyrical content often glorifies violence, showcasing a lifestyle filled with guns, flashy cars, and bravado. This portrayal can be both captivating and troubling, particularly for the youth who idolize him.
Interviewer: You mentioned the youth. With Moosewala having millions of followers on social media, how do you think his music shapes the aspirations and behavior of young Punjabis?
Ranjit Singh: The impact is profound. Moosewala’s music creates a fantasy of what success looks like—a world where violence and excess are celebrated. Young listeners often internalize this imagery, leading them to adopt similar attitudes in real life. They may become entrapped in a cycle of materialism and aggression, believing that these are the hallmarks of masculinity and success.
Interviewer: In your perspective, do you think there’s an element of cultural decay present in how he’s portrayed in the media?
Ranjit Singh: Absolutely. Moosewala’s persona showcases a certain ‘hollow exhibitionism,’ as you mentioned earlier. This shift in cultural expression seems to be a departure from the deep-rooted values of Punjabi culture, which historically celebrated community and resilience. Instead, it feels like we’re witnessing the rise of a spectacle obsessed with fame and bravado, often at the cost of more meaningful cultural representation.
Interviewer: How does Moosewala’s approach compare to earlier Punjabi artists? Were they also glamorizing violence and material wealth?
Ranjit Singh: Earlier artists had a more nuanced approach. They tackled social issues, communal identity, and love without overtly glamorizing violence. While there was always some element of bravado, it was often tempered with an awareness of social responsibilities. Moosewala, however, seems to revel in a flamboyant and reckless lifestyle that echoes current global trends more than it does traditional Punjabi values.
Interviewer: Some argue that this portrayal is a reflection of societal change and frustration among the youth. Do you think there’s some truth to this?
Ranjit Singh: Yes, there’s definitely a context here. The pressures faced by young people, especially in Punjab—such as unemployment and lack of opportunities—could lead them to find solace in the hyper-masculine portrayals in Moosewala’s music. It becomes a channel for expressing their frustrations and aspirations, albeit in a distorted and potentially harmful manner.
Interviewer: Moving forward, what do you think can be done to address the influence of such music on youth culture?
Ranjit Singh: It’s crucial to encourage a variety of musical expressions that highlight different aspects of Punjabi culture. Support for artists who reflect positive values and real-life stories can provide a counter-narrative to Moosewala’s brand of storytelling. Additionally, open discussions about the implications of glorifying violence in music are necessary. Parents, educators, and community leaders must engage with young people, emphasizing critical thinking around the media they consume.
Interviewer: Wise insights, Ranjit. Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts on this pressing issue in Punjabi culture.
Ranjit Singh: Thank you for having me. It’s a discussion that’s vital for the future of our culture.
To that?
Ranjit Singh: Yes, there’s validity to that perspective. Moosewala’s rise coincides with a period of significant socio-economic change in Punjab, where many young people feel disenfranchised or disconnected from traditional pathways to success. His music offers a form of escapism, presenting an idealized version of success that resonates with their struggles. However, while it reflects their frustrations, it also risks normalizing a toxic form of expression that equates aggression with achievement.
Interviewer: In light of his tragic passing and the outpouring of grief, what do you think his legacy will be for Punjabi culture moving forward?
Ranjit Singh: Moosewala’s legacy is complex. On one hand, he will be remembered as a voice for many, articulating their ambitions and dreams in ways that resonated deeply. On the other hand, his glorification of violence and materialism poses questions about the kind of legacy that is being left for future generations. It’s pivotal now for artists and influencers to redirect the conversation towards positive representations that cultivate community values rather than perpetuate cycles of violence and materialism.
Interviewer: Thank you for your insight, Ranjit. You’ve highlighted important themes worth reflecting upon as we continue to navigate the influence of music and culture in our society.
Ranjit Singh: Thank you for having me. It’s essential to keep these conversations alive as they connect deeply with the fabric of our cultural identity.
