There were the days when even fans were not needed at Kangra. Branches of tall pine trees would gracefully move with the wind during the summers too. And the popular song of the region would come to the lips of children, young and old alike: ‘Thandi thandi hava jo jhuldi, Jhulde cheelaan de dalu, Ke jeena Kangde daa…’ (The cool wind makes the branches of pine trees sway, making Kangra a heaven on earth).
Then even rivers and rivulets would be full with water as the snow on the upper hills would melt. And the tall trees on both sides would make as if the entire surrounding area was lush green. Then the popular song of the hills would go like this: ‘Dugge dugge nalu kne cheelaan de janglu, Sarhkaa da bnaa gori jithu tera bangle…’ (The rivulets are deep and the thick pine trees are tall, I know there on the roadside is your house).
Alas, deforestation has reduced the number of trees. The rush of traffic in the region has caused pollution, giving birth to heatwaves. Hence, now a love song among pedestrians runs thus: ‘Bhlaa mian mnejra ho, Rahe vich bangle tera, Ke pal bhar behna de…’ (Oh handsome manager Thakur, your bungalow falls on the wayside. How I wish to take a few minutes of rest in the cool shade of your bungalow).
In another context, a somewhat similar song is sung by other pedestrians: ‘Jeth maheene diaan dhupaan, Teri sonh jeth maheene diaan dhupaan, Chhatri taani deh…’ (Oh, it is too hot a month of Jeth, my dear! How I wish you offer me a shade of umbrella if you really love me).
But Kangra does not always remain that hot. And often rain falls, even in between hot spells, making the weather pleasant. In such weather through a song, a bride misses her soldier husband thus: ‘Bhala sapahiaa dogriaa ho, Rasliaan rasliaan dharaan, Ke tera minjho manda lagda…’ (O my solider husband, you are so noble yet so innocent. As rain falls, these mountain slopes look so lovely and pleasant. Alas, your absence pinches, not letting me enjoy even the pleasant weather).
Even a bit of rain that falls over the mountains brightens up the tree leaves. But a bit more of the rain fills the ditches on the mountain slopes with water. Such lovely sights make the young ones sing: ‘Uchi uchi rhirhiaan pathare jo chamke, Khaddaan vich chamkia pani, Mein taan tijho puchhadee preet kiaan lani ho…’ (The tall mountains have slopes where the stones glitter in the ditches when rain water falls. I ask you to reveal to me how to make love when the weather is that pleasant).
Yes, such songs are sung only to ward off the summer spells. Listening to these people makes one feel transported to another world of heavenly bliss.
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