Ever since Bishna left the olive grove, he has been looking for a place where he can spend his life comfortably, but his thoughts do not allow him to become a milestone even for a moment. He wants to share his share of light. He does not want him to sit in silence.
One day, while crossing a square in the metropolis, he got stuck in traffic. When he looked around, all around the square, big and small vehicles were running to pass each other as if their tails were on fire. They were running like fire brigade vehicles, as if they were trying to put out a fire. He thought that the fire might have started in one direction, but they were running in all directions, as if the entire city was on fire.
The fire was not visible anywhere, but smoke was definitely seen coming out from behind every vehicle. He wondered where these vehicles running on the roads would stop? It seemed to him as if a man had stopped and, stunned by the noise of the motor vehicles, he sat on a high place on the side of the road and started watching the motor vehicles passing by.
He saw Manmohan Bawa, the ‘Ajat Sundari’, coming from the front, carrying goods on a horse. When he looked at him, the ‘war cry’ had already sounded. The farmers’ movement in Delhi had started. Just then, after ‘investigating’ Anne, Mitra Sain, who had returned from the ‘court’, came to him distributing advertisements of the ‘Kaurav Sabha’. He said, ‘Bishnaya, don’t be fooled, this life is ‘Kaurav Sabha’, it now needs to be taken to a ‘reform house’, how can you listen to him?’
He started talking to Meet, when Anne returned from Canada, the Bania K. L. Garg threw his ‘last leaf’ and said, ‘Playing in this crowd is like breaking your ankles and knees.’ When Ram Saroop of ‘Kothe Kharak Singh’ came to the book stall holding ‘Kahani Punjab’ and said, ‘Bishan Sian, Sardar, Partapi and Jassi Sarpanch died of eating Sulphas, seeing the condition of their children, it is written ‘Bas Hoor Nahin’.’ Just then a voice came from an auto rickshaw with a speaker. ‘Listen, listen. . Surjit Patar of ‘Hawa Cha Likhe Harf’ has become the owner of ‘Hukami Di Haveli’ by ‘requesting trees’, where a melodious evening will be celebrated tonight.’ Just then, Sukhwinder Amrit of ‘Suraj Di Dahilij’ came to take ‘Dhup Di Chunni’ and sat next to Tae Bishna. The speaker had not yet dried up his breath. Just then, Baljinder Nasrali, the ‘Fire of the Defeat’, came carrying the ‘Dakkhana Khas’ on his shoulder and said, ‘Read this ‘Last Story of the Twentieth Century’ yourself and teach it to your children.’
But whoever hears the sound of ‘Nero’s flute’ in the square of this metropolis, God would say, ‘Now the four corners have become ‘Kalinga’, who can understand the ‘Udasi Hire Haran’?’ When Bhola Singh Sanghera saw the tall buildings, he said, ‘Bye ji, these are all ‘walls of sand’, you are talking about life.’ Seeing the bodies seeking life in the cyber cafes built on the Mall Road, Harjit Atwal started saying, ‘This is just ‘sand trickery.” When Jinder, while giving the numbers of ‘Shabad’, said, ‘But, ‘You cannot understand’, whose ‘murder’ has been done.'” Taya He was watching, instead of cars around him, a crowd of writers was growing. He saw that no one was listening to anyone. Everyone was shouting at each other.
A quiet girl, Nirmal Jaswal, who was coming straight towards Bishna after getting off the bus, said, “Don’t touch them, they are ‘glass fish’.” Then, sitting next to her uncle, she said, “When the old lady Veena Verma became the ‘daughter-in-law of the Farangs’, has the value of a ‘valuable woman’ increased in Punjab?” Now she goes door to door, creating a stir by becoming the ‘daughter of the Yogis’. When the ‘absent man’ would appear, Prem Gorkhi would say, ‘We will put the news in some Punjabi tabloid, don’t worry.'” “Uncle, not only in Sweden, but also in Punjab, the ‘falling graph’ of women is there.”
Ninder Gill spoke while putting his bicycle on the stand. When Uncle looked at him, on the other side, Baldev Singh was sitting on a ‘red light’ with the ‘Annadats’, lighting a fire of ‘wet rags’. He would say, ‘Sutlej kept flowing’ but no government has managed the water, now they are going around planting summer crops. Meanwhile, the ‘Panjwan Sahibzada’ along with his family separated, saying that no one will let us enter the Gurdwara. Chaudhary Bedava has become a writer and we are the only ones left to make sacrifices. Now, to whom should I tell the story of ‘Dhahan Delhi de Kingre’?”
Satish Gulati of Chetna Prakashan, who had been ‘against silence’, had now also become ‘inside and outside of silence’ and came with his books. The ‘crowd’ of writers in the square was increasing by the minute. Aunt Bishna was sitting silently watching. When he looked up, he saw Ajmer Sidhu from Nawanshahr carrying the remnants of Punjab’s culture. He said, “Uncle, Punjabi culture has not ended yet. Look, ‘the well is spinning’ and ‘Nachiketa’s death’ has not happened. This is just a rumor.” When Jatinder Hans said, “Uncle, don’t trust this. In our village, ‘God was born’ and we have kept ‘Kal tied to the foot’ there. You come with me.” Just then, Jasvir Rana with his ‘bangle arm’ came and said, “The sun has not set yet, it is already ‘the peak of noon.'” Makhan Maan came and said, “Uncle, Baba Jagtar is sitting in front of the ‘entrance’ of the metropolis, smoking a dhoni. Kulwinder with the name ‘ruins growing in the trees’ is coming.” He hopes that Ram Singh, the tahsildar of Murandian Dala, will come and mark this intersection in the “behind the curtains” and ask for permission.
When will they remember the ‘Roop Aroop’ of ‘Moh Mitti’, who will listen to Darshan Gill’s ‘Nazam’?”
His heart sank after seeing such a crowd of writers. He started thinking, I had seen and heard such a crowd of vehicles in the metropolis, but now I am very surprised to see such a crowd of writers, why is the number of literary readers decreasing?
He thinks, in the square in front, the crowd of writers is trying to overtake each other and get ahead, prizes and awards were being distributed, the writers were trying to get ahead of each other, but the red light is still on. . ..
Everyone is shouting. Nothing is being heard. If you hear anything, then tell me! ”Bishna is standing in the square and asking, but no one is listening to him. He is looking at the crowd, completely stunned.
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Budh Singh Nilon