Punjab’s politics is like a long-running theatre show where the script never changes, only the actors do. Each party that comes to power acts like it has just discovered Chandigarh, BBMB, Punjabi-speaking areas, and the Anandpur Sahib Resolution—as if these were buried treasures unearthed only during elections. Yet once in office, the same leaders suddenly develop political Alzheimer’s, forgetting everything they promised.
Let’s begin with Chandigarh. For decades, our leaders—better known as the “Lost Luggage Union”—have been promising to bring Chandigarh back. But in Delhi, they shrink into “Branch Managers of Delhi Ltd.” rather than Chief Ministers of Punjab. Chandigarh, for them, is like a railway platform chai—good for photo-ops, but never actually taken home.
The Bhakra Beas Management Board (BBMB) gives us another comedy scene. Punjab’s share and rights vanish, and our leaders pretend to be shocked every single time. Enter the “Crybaby Collective”—loud shouters in Punjab, whispering kittens in Delhi. They shout “Punjab, Punjab!” on stage, but turn into “Yes Sir Brigade” the moment they cross Delhi’s borders.
Punjabi-speaking areas? Ah, the lost treasure map. Each election, leaders act like Indiana Jones, promising to recover those villages. But after winning, they act more like “Google Maps Error Party”—unable to locate villages just a few kilometres away. Perhaps, they are waiting for Elon Musk’s rockets to first bring those areas down from the moon.
And then comes the Anandpur Sahib Resolution. Once the Bible of Punjab’s autonomy, now reduced to a dusty pamphlet. The same leaders who once thundered as the “Lions of Federalism” have today turned into “Clerks of Connaught Place,” sending their homework directly to their Delhi bosses. It is like watching a once roaring lion being trained to fetch biscuits.
But the true talent of Punjab’s politicians is not in solving issues—it is in distraction. Whenever the public dares to ask about these matters, the “Freebie Factory” quickly opens up. A new subsidy here, a free scheme there, an irrelevant controversy elsewhere. It’s political magic: “Now you see Chandigarh, now you don’t. Now you hear about autonomy, now suddenly we’re talking about free bus rides.”
The saddest part? The people of Punjab keep waiting for justice, while the leaders keep performing circus acts. For them, these core issues are not causes, but seasonal mangoes—juicy in election season, rotten and discarded afterwards. And so, the show goes on: “The Great Punjab Forgetfulness Circus,” where the audience suffers but the clowns laugh all the way to Delhi.
Here’s a short satirical verse to wrap up the piece like a cartoon caption:
“They shout for Punjab, they cry for its rights,
But bow in Delhi under dim lights.
Chandigarh, waters, autonomy—just bait,
For leaders who remember only till the vote date.”