A Lyrical Lament of Love, Loss, and Longing

​Sunaina Jain reviews Simrita Dhir's book The Song of Distant Bulbuls

We are in the battlefield of love,

It behoves not a love warrior to forsake the beloved.’

—Heer Waris Shah

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The opening quote in Simrita Dhir’s second novel The Song of Distant Bulbuls offers a lens into its essence – the immutable and enduring power of love. The narrative of this novel unfurls in 1946 in an idyllic yet politically fragile Pre-Partition Punjab village of Aliwala, nestled along the River Ghaggar in the backwaters of the Malwa region.

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The focal point of the novel is Sammi’s story who got married in 1939 at the age of seventeen to a commissioned army officer, Hari Singh who served in the British Indian Army. During the turbulent period of World War II, Hari Singh was summoned to serve in the War just 21 days after his marriage, but seven years have passed without any news of his whereabouts even after the war ended in 1945.

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Interpolated with events foreshadowing the imminent division of India into two separate nations, the book is deftly divided into four sections – winter, spring, summer, and monsoon – mirroring the rhythms of the natural world, and the emotional cadence and life trajectory of its characters. The author presents the rich cultural traditions and beliefs of the rural Punjab in a composite and syncretic little hamlet of Aliwala where Muslims, Sikhs, and Hindus co-exist in harmony before the winds of political change scattered seeds of discord. The sights and sounds of rural Punjab come alive through aural, olfactive and visual imagery, whether she describes the invasive cold of January 1946 with its frosty nights and hailstorms, spring with its “smug delightfulness”, and “a fragrant breeze blowing all day long, heralding lingering days and balmy nights” (127), summer that smelled of ripe mulberries and freshly sown cotton, or dry monsoon with “heat waves rising with vigor, dust circling the air and landing on shrubs and saplings, an orange sun burning ferociously” (249).

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In the novel, the old tradition of embroidering phulkari becomes cathartic for Sammi, allowing her to channelize her time and energy into creating aesthetic artifacts and distracting her from the memory of her missing husband. For Sammi and her Jeeti bhua, phulkari becomes emblematic of hope and resilience amidst their life struggles. When Sammi gifts her friend Preeto an arduously crafted phulkari as her wedding gift, it highlights not only Sammi’s magnanimity and love for her friend, but also makes phulkari a symbol of dreams and aspirations for a prosperous future.

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The author draws parallels between love and war as the battlefield of love is no different from that of war. In the novel, Sammi is the lone warrior of love who holds its fort in the face of adversities. Sammi’s family grapples with the emotional fallout of the war as Bibi blames Bapuji for marrying her to a soldier who vanished in the war, leading to meltdowns and constant acrimonies over the concern of resettling Sammi. Sammi’s inner world, riddled with passionate love for Hari Singh and her quiet rebellion, is juxtaposed with the lives of her brothers, Jasjit and Kirpal, whose personalities depict the ideological shifts that defined the youth in pre-independence era. The elder one Jasjit, as an ICS aspirant, is a champion of secular and liberal India. Jasjit having undergone the pangs of unfulfilled love with college friend Veera, supports Sammi’s decision of refusing to get remarried to Bachan Singh, Kirpal’s best friend and plans for her escape to Patiala. Kirpal, anchored in pragmatism and feudal aspirations, views Sammi’s remarriage to his friend Bachan Singh as both obligatory and transactional. Bachan Singh embodies the wealthy landowning class which believes in pomposity. Amidst this rigmarole, Sammi shows an extraordinary strength of character and her love for Hari Singh remains constant as she navigates the tough existential battles. Metaphorically, Sammi’s battle to preserve her love is equivalent to India’s freedom struggle against British colonialism.  

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Among many characters that swarm the pages of the novel, a few minor characters deserve a mention as they add meaning and density to the text. Amrik, as Sammi’s teenager cousin, shows his tender loyalty as he trades his beloved bicycle for a radio to help track Hari Singh’s news. Nathu and Madani belong to the baazigar community which worked in the households of elite farmers, showing the class struggles prevalent in the society. Zulfi, as the loving friend of Jasjit, cements the belief that the bond of friendship transcends the barriers of caste and class.

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Sammi’s mother Bibi, her friend Preeto, and Jeeti bhua, highlight the complexities of gender roles largely rooted in quiet subservience and suppressed sorrow. However, Bibi defies the traditional role of a mother as a loving and caring figure, obsessed as she is with her failing health and pride as a landowning woman. Despite being loved by her father and brothers, Sammi bears the brunt of her mother’s differential treatment and resents being treated as a liability. Nevertheless, as the tragic story of Bibi’s tragic childhood story surfaces, Sammi becomes somewhat sympathetic towards her. Jeeti Bhua’s life is reminiscent of the follies of teenage love and serves as a cautionary tale steeped in guilt, shame and redemption. The fate of Preeto is somewhat similar to that of Sammi reminding readers of the silent grief borne by women whose lives were eclipsed by brutal wars.

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To encapsulate, written with sensitivity and sensibility of a responsible writer, Simrita Dhir’s The Song of Distant Bulbuls will resonate with readers across time and space. The title piques readers’ interest as it evokes emotions of love, loss, longing, and nostalgia. In the novel, the sound of bulbuls is metaphorically tied to hope, resilience and perseverance in the face of barbarity and absurdity of war and their absence signifies lamentation and despair. As she waits for Hari Singh for years, Sammi muses: “If only the bulbuls would sing their song and show him the way home, but there wasn’t a single bulbul in sight (6). Will Sammi find her true love back or will she wilt away in the agony of love – the novel revolves around this central conflict.

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Inspired by a deeply personal story when Dhir’s maternal grandfather was summoned to fight in the Second World War in 1939, this book, interspersed with lyrical prose, is a riveting saga of love and faith.