Jugni: The roving, rebelling Everywoman who has seen it all

Jugni ohde muhn ton fabbe/ Jihnu satt ishq di lagge (To sing Jugni behoves the one/ Who has endured the ravages of love — “Jugni” Alam Lohar (translation: mine)

Jugni has intermittently reverberated in the skies of Punjab. The fluid folk character has been part of the collective consciousness. She materializes off and on from thin air to offer her dispassionate commentary on the goings-on. She is part of the social contract, the distant relative who you will not see for months on end but is certain to land up bag and baggage on weddings and funerals. She will partake of your joys and grief, she will break bread with you, she is your kinsfolk, your shareek. Jugni continues to reinvent down the ages, her many guises capturing the shifting reality, the changing socio-cultural contours of Punjab.

It is important that Jugni is a woman. She is also a free travelling nomad. Reminiscent of the old aunt, who becomes unencumbered because she widowed young. Or the one who never married and there was many a salacious tale of unrequited love, accompanied by tremendous show of societal sympathy and secret loathing. But then, all this worked out fine because it made her free. Past her prime, she could finally travel without the parents getting paranoid about her sexuality. In time, she had an opinion, and importantly, the gumption to say it all. She could also be a secret desire. After all, how many women could travel free and say it all?

Interestingly, Jugni’s identity is in a swirl. Jugni is a nickname and nicknames eschew the identitarian politics of proper names. Nicknames have, but homely affection at their command. Depending on context, Jugni could be variously invoking sai, peer, allah or guru. She is a product of the syncretic Punjab of the pre-colonial times that celebrated shared cultural and religious practices that cut across rigid community lines. The custom of the elder son sporting a turban in Hindu families was once commonly honoured. Whether it was the ubiquitous concept of “Panj Peer” the Holy Five Saints that could morph into any denomination depending on the faith of the worshipper, this spirit was palpable. Heer and Ranjha come face to face with the pantheon of Panj Peers in the jungle and Waris Shah’s epic opens with an invocation made in their honour.

While some ascribe Jugni’s authorship to the 19th century Sufi saint Rode Shah Faquir Jalali, there is a version of its origins that locates it in the nascent freedom struggle movement and ascribes its authorship to the two local singers Bishna and Manda. It is more reasonable to see this origin story as another variant and an addition to the then existing dynamic folk narrative. In its present state, this theory needs more primary research to be accepted as a historical fact. It is said that in the year 1887, when there were large scale celebrations of Golden Jubilee of Queen Victoria, a touring torch, a flame, was taken across various towns and villages of the country. Bishna and Manda were said to have set up parallel stage where they sang of the people’s struggles in the face of government oppression in a bid to counter the laudatory tone of the administration. They used Jugni as a bastardised version of “Jubilee.” According to Khushwant Singh, Punjab was reeling under anti-British sentiment for which the latest trigger was canal irrigation.

Bollywood has adapted Jugni, so have scores of Punjabi singers in the decades post-Independence. Gurdas Maan panders to the nationalist sentiment in the years of insurgency while Rabbi Shergill composes a somewhat sombre Jugni that sweeps across India, bringing the violence in Kashmir and unemployment of youth in Punjab within its ambit. Madan Gopal Singh’s “intellectual” Jugni is self conscious of its syncretic blueprint, Malkit Singh’s diasporic Jugni settles in Birmingham and cockily chews gum on Soho Road - “Jugni ja wadi Birmingham, Khandi soho road te Chewinggam” (sic). As a relief to apologists of Chandigarh, the Jugni of “Oye Lucky, Lucky Oye” is the “moh mohni naar ohdi kothi sector chaar.”/bewitching lass who stays in sector four, (which incidentally is a posh pocket).

Jugni, a witness has seen it all, from the days of colonial resistance to being tethered to NRI-hood in a far flung corner of the world. From the realm of spiritual to the material, Jugni has come a long way.

The writer teaches English Literature at a college in Chandigarh. Views are personal.