There was a time when Punjab’s air wasn’t just filled with the smell of makki di roti and sarson da saag — it was filled with humanity. If your tractor broke down, five neighbors would rush to push it before you even said “Oye ruk jao!” If someone’s roof leaked, the whole pind turned into a construction crew faster than you could say “Chhad de, main kar lainda!”
But ah, those golden days seem to have packed up their bags and migrated abroad too! These days, the spirit of helping each other has been replaced by a more modern, 5G version — “helping for social media.” The same people who once showed up with a spade now show up with a selfie stick. If someone’s in trouble, the new rule is: first record, then react.
Now you’ll see scenes like this: a man’s cart overturns, and three people rush forward — not to help him, but to go live on Facebook with captions like, “Humanity still alive in Punjab 😇.” Meanwhile, the poor fellow is still lying under his cart, wondering if hashtags can lift the weight.
Earlier, if your friend needed money, people sold their buffaloes to help. Today, they’ll sell your secrets instead. If you tell someone about your problem, by evening it’ll be trending in three WhatsApp groups — with emojis for decoration and dramatic background music added for free.
In the good old days, people competed to do sewa (service). Now they compete to show sewa-style acting. Some even organize “charity” events where the only real beneficiary is their own Instagram account.
Punjab once stood for courage, honesty, and compassion — now it stands for comparison, competition, and captions. We still talk about “sarbat da bhala”, but secretly hope our neighbor’s crops fail so ours look greener.
So next time someone says, “Bai, main teri madad karunga,” don’t get emotional — get cautious. Because in today’s Punjab, help often comes with a hidden interest rate, a photo op, and a moral lecture attached.
Maybe one day the old Punjab will return — the one where hearts were bigger than mobile screens and helping hands didn’t need hashtags. Until then, just smile and say, “Bas veere, tu post kar lai — main khud hi uth jaunga.”