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Why worm poaching is threatening India’s wetlands

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India’s bristle worms are often overlooked. But they are crucial to the health of the country’s wetlands – which is why local women are working to catch the poachers decimating their population.

Jyothi, 40, will never forget the day she almost died. The morning started off like any other at Pulicat Lake, part of one of three important wetlands that attracts monsoon rain clouds from October to December. Located on the east coast of India, 50km (30 miles) from the city of Chennai, Pulicat Lake is an enchanting lagoon, roughly half the size of the city of London. Pink flamingos dot its sandy banks. Migratory birds flock to its many islets in their thousands, while fishermen cast their nets into the glassy waters.

On that day in May 2022, Jyothi, who goes by only one name, had set off to work by 09:00 with 10 other women. Rain had soaked the mud paths, making the way treacherously slippery, but the women were adept at navigating the rough terrain. Their job was to wade ankle-deep in the marshy waters of the lagoon’s inlets, hunting for fresh fish, shrimp and crab. Two to three kilos of catch, a good day’s haul, could fetch ₹500 (£5/$6.25).

As Jyothi waded into the lagoon, she felt something close over her right foot. She slipped. Her head went under. Entangled in the roots and shrubs, she couldn’t surface on her own. Terrified, gulping marshy water, she only avoided drowning thanks to the other women who pulled her to safety.

After she was back on the marshy banks, she looked closely at what had caused her to slip. It was a white bucket, the width of her foot. When she had accidentally stepped into it and lost her balance, she couldn’t pry it off. Now she saw why it was there: shimmering inside were squiggling, translucent pink creatures known as bristle worms, or polychaetes.

These poachers aren’t just stealing worms, they’re destroying an entire ecosystem by breaking the food chain, a vital link that keeps it together – Sultan Ahmed Ismail

Ten species of polychaetes have been identified so far at Pulicat, all of them endemic. They are a crucial part of the lagoon’s ecosystem. Among other roles, they are a main source of food for its fish and crustaceans – which feed not only humans, like those who buy catch from Jyothi, but birds and animals too.

The worms also are a prize of local poachers. Often, the poachers fix empty buckets, like the one that had caught Jyothi’s foot, in the muddy floors of the shallow waters to fill with worms, collecting them later. They sell the worms as feed to the dozens of aquaculture farms, many illegal, that dot the banks of Pulicat.

“I realised at that moment that it was human greed, and not the worms itself, that almost cost me my life,” Jyothi says now.

But Pulicat’s worm poaching threatens other consequences for Jyothi – and for the entire area.

“Pulicat Lake is what is known as an ‘ecotone’ – a transition zone between two ecosystems, in this case, land and water,” says soil biologist and ecologist Sultan Ahmed Ismail, one of the pioneers of worm research in India. The species that thrive in these ecotones, called “edge species”, are integral to the ecosystem’s wellbeing. The polychaetes are among these edge species, particularly a group of worms called nereids.

Meerasa/ Mangrove Foundation of India Polychaetes are an economically and ecologically important worm in the Pulicat region (Credit: Meerasa/ Mangrove Foundation of India)
Polychaetes are an economically and ecologically important worm in the Pulicat region (Credit: Meerasa/ Mangrove Foundation of India)

Like fish, these nereids need the dissolved oxygen in the saline waters to survive. They get this oxygen by burrowing into the soil and breathing through the surface of their bodies; some species have external gills. They eat detritus: the organic matter produced by the decomposition of other organisms and waste products that settles at the water bottom. This detritus contains dead phytoplankton, which is highly nutritious for fish, crabs and other crustaceans, says Ismail.

The fish and crustaceans rely on this detritus, which they get by consuming the worms. While it may seem more efficient for the fish and crabs to directly eat the detritus, there are several reasons why they prefer to eat the worms themselves, says Ismail. The nutrients from the detritus concentrate in the worms; the worms also are easier to digest than the detritus itself. “These poachers aren’t just stealing worms, they’re destroying an entire ecosystem by breaking the food chain, a vital link that keeps it together,” says Ismail.

“When natural predators take away the worms, it’s a gradual process and they’re soon replenished. But when hundreds and thousands of worms are dug out of the soil and taken away by force, their numbers cannot be replenished at the same rate. There aren’t enough adult worms left to accomplish that,” Ismail says.

If the worms start to dwindle, so will the fish, crab and the livelihoods of locals, including Jyothi.

Getty Images Polychaete worms support the ecosystem of Pulicat Lake, which in turn supports local livelihoods (Credit: Getty Images)
Polychaete worms support the ecosystem of Pulicat Lake, which in turn supports local livelihoods (Credit: Getty Images)

“Worm poaching has been happening for years, and it’s particularly affecting the livelihoods of 2,000 tribal women who depend on hand fishing for a living in these parts,” says S Meerasa, founder and director of the non-governmental organisation the Mangrove Foundation of India.

The poachers usually sell the worms to fish farms, which pay 1,000-4,000₹ (£10-40/$12-50) to poachers for every kilogram of worms they harvest. The worms are fed to fish and prawns. “The amino acids in the worms add to the colour of the fish, so they’re in great demand,” says Ismail. While some fishing is legal, there are also numerous illegal farms in Pulicat, which are frequently ordered to shut down.

“The poachers steal the worms in broad daylight, and they usually start digging from 6:00,” says Lakshmi, 60, who hauls fish with Jyothi and also goes by one name. “They’ve erected makeshift sheds and pitched tents on the outskirts of our villages.” The women describe the poachers as “brash and thoughtless”. They’ve scooped out so many worms from the soil that there are now huge craters along the wetlands, they say, some two or three feet deep. “Elderly people who are afraid of falling into them have stopped handpicking,” Lakshmi says.

“I have friends and neighbours who have been badly hurt,” Jyoti adds. “Some have broken hands and legs, and worst of all, hips, while falling into the craters.”

The pockmarked wetlands are a serious hazard to everyone. But the stress on the ecosystem is also concerning. “Ten years ago, I could walk a kilometre from my home and handpick fish from the mangroves outside,” Jyoti says. “Today, we need to walk 5km to the nearest handpicking spot and even there, fish and crab which once used to be abundant are dwindling at an alarming rate.”

Women from our community have chased poachers away from key handpicking areas – Jyoti

There is also a vicious cycle that will occur as the worms become scarcer, Ismail says. The fewer there are, the less arable the soil becomes. And the less arable the soil becomes, the fewer worms will survive. “These are very sensitive worms,” he says. “Any change in the water content and the salinity of the soil (which can happen when poachers dig out chunks of them) can affect the remaining ones too.”

It isn’t just animals that are suffering from the worms’ decline. Worm poaching could be one of the causes for a slow decline of mangrove vegetation at Pulicat Lake, Meerasa says. This is a problem, as mangroves reduce the risk of soil erosion, protect coasts from tsunamis, and aid in the capture of carbon that can slow global warming.

Various NGOs, including the Mangrove Foundation of India, have tried to fill the ecological gaps. Since 2021 alone, the Mangrove Foundation has planted around 50,000 mangrove saplings. In 2012, Meerasa says they began a community effort to dig canals to support the transplanted mangroves. In some spots of the lagoon, especially in interior villages, a lack of water circulation for the mangroves was a growing problem. Digging the canals was a community effort, however, the worm poachers have hampered progress. “When they dig up the worms, they end up filling in the mud bunds of the canal with dirt and silt, impeding the water flow and disrupting our efforts.” 

With the government authorities taking little action, locals say, it has been up to nearby communities – particularly handpickers like Jyoti and Lakshmi – to try to oppose the poachers. “Women from our community have chased poachers away from key handpicking areas. We’ve taken turns standing vigil at many spots around our village,” says Jyoti. The Tamil Nadu Forest Department, which oversees the region, did not respond to the BBC’s requests for comment.

Some villages have had more luck than others. In the Palaverkadu area of Pulicat, locals say worm poaching has reduced substantially. 

With other women from the union, Veeramal, who goes by one name, has taken a three-step strategy: watching out for suspicious activity, trying to speak to the would-be poachers, and finally, reporting them. Not reporting them to the authorities, but to a network of fishermen and other prominent members of the community, who then try to reason with the poachers further. “When women put their mind to it, they can do anything,” says Veeramal, 46, a former treasurer of the Thiruvallur District Fish Worker Welfare Association, a local union.

Getty Images Pulicat Lake is an important site for migratory birds and other wildlife (Credit: Getty Images)
Pulicat Lake is an important site for migratory birds and other wildlife (Credit: Getty Images)

“We are hyper-alert to small groups of men who may not be from our particular village. When we see them skulking around, especially with trowels, shovels and buckets, we know that they’re here to poach worms,” she says. “I engage firmly and kindly… I talk to them about the repercussions of what they’re doing.” Sometimes she says the reasoning works, and the men retreat – at least on that occasion.

It doesn’t always work. If she finds that the men are rude, physically abusive or just not open to discussion, she calls on her network. “I call the men of our village, and they take over,” she says. “Instinctively, if I suspect a group of poachers could be violent, I call to report them before engaging. But we’ve never given up on engagement.”

This approach has not worked in all of the surrounding villages. Often, women say, villagers themselves are bribed to look the other way. “We can’t be everywhere and their numbers keep increasing,” says Jyoti.

Officials from the Tamil Nadu Forest Department, responsible for law enforcement in the Pulicat area, did not respond to the BBC’s requests for comment.

Worm poaching is not just limited to Pulicat. “Worm poaching is a problem across India,” says Ismail. “We just don’t hear about it.” The worms are found in similar ecosystems in parts of Mumbai, Kochi and Chilika Lake in Odisha, which is India’s largest brackish water ecosystem.

The solution Ismail suggests may seem surprising: not punishing the poachers, but rather legalising the worm trade, restricting it to a very small area of Pulicat Lake. This would keep poachers from running roughshod over the entire ecosystem, he says. And in this predefined area, the worms can be cultured from the larval stage to meet the needs of the aquaculture industry. This would require careful monitoring, he says. Meerasa adds that this could be coupled with significantly raising fines for illegal activity.  

“[Poachers] are only thinking of the here and now, the money they will earn today, but what about tomorrow?” Veeramal asks. “In the end, we try to tell them that what they’re stealing aren’t just worms – it’s our future.”

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Taken From BBC News

https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20250311-the-women-fighting-indias-worm-poachers

Art & Culture

Part 2-Muslim-Sikh Harmony in Punjab: Akhtar Hussain Sandhu with Arshdeep Kaur Battu in a TV Interview on Sanjha TV (Canada)

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Dr. Akhtar Hussain Sandhu, expert on Sikh/Punjab Studies, historian, scholar and columnist from Pakistan, currently living in USA was interviewed by famous anchor Arshdeep Kaur Battu for Sanjha TV, Surrey (Canada). The Light Newspaper is publishing first part of this interview and the rest of parts will be published in the forthcoming Sundays.

Translated by:

Farooq Muhammad Wyne

Lecturer in English

Government Islamia College Civil Lines, Lahore

Part 2

Earlier, you mentioned “Wand” (Division); division didn’t only occur in 1947. Way before that, Delhi was part of Punjab, and then it was separated by the British, and no one spoke out against this territorial loss of Punjab. NWFP and other regions extending up to Kabul during the reign of Maharaja Ranjit Singh were part of Punjab, and even Kashmir was under Punjab; later, Kashmir separated, but no Punjabi leader cried or protested. Moving on, Haryana got separated, Himachal Pradesh, Chandigarh gained the status of union territory, who spoke against that?

The leadership crisis in Punjab has always existed. The major issue in Punjab is the crisis of leadership, even today. We (the Punjabis) neither have unity nor capable leadership. A leader is someone who thinks about people. There is a word called “Ishq.” It is something that cannot be associated with a man or a woman; it would be an insult to the word “Ishq” if it is used in this context. “Ishq” means losing your comfort, wealth, and everything you have for the sake of a ‘cause’ or mission. The cause of ultimate societal betterment. “Ishq” entails selflessness and self-negation in pursuit of higher objectives. Spirituality, which entails selflessness and self-negation, is the prime quality of a capable leader, but it is rarely seen today. If someone doesn’t rise above his materialistic gains and vested interests, he cannot benefit people and hence cannot become a leader. Such a person will deliver speeches for the public good but will have his own motives. So, the leadership of Punjab is now suffering from materialism. They (the politicians) need money, ministries, and status. In conclusion, Punjabis lack unity and leadership.

Host: We often remember Bhagat Singh, especially in September when his holiday is celebrated. Bhagat Singh would have never imagined that his Punjab would be divided into two parts, and elderly Punjabis would lament the division of the land. His only dream was that Punjabis should remain united, undivided, and in harmony. I often think his soul must be writhing to see the current state of Punjabis.

Guest: Regarding Bhagat Singh, there are many elements to discuss. Sadly, some members of the Sikh community have ostracized him from the Sikh community. My question is, if someone calls himself a Gursikh (a devoted follower of Sikh Gurus), will the Guru cast him away? If a Sikh goes to the Guru and calls himself his follower, will the Guru say to him, “No, since you do this and that, you go away”? No, the Guru will not say such a thing. When the Guru himself does not reject him, who are we to reject him (Bhagat Singh)? Whoever goes to the holy door of the Gurus is accepted wholeheartedly and embraced. The purity of their (Holy men’s) souls and intellects is very clear; they accept any kind of man, be it good or otherwise. But now, this phenomenon of excommunicating people is prevalent, where individuals are labeled as believers or disbelievers, Sikhs or non-Sikhs. When such states of affairs are prevalent in Punjab, what kind of leadership can we expect?

At least Bhagat Singh was fighting for independence, for Punjab, and for India’s freedom against the colonizers. Just look at these aspects; aren’t they enough? Why do people delve into deeper issues? He was a writer, and if someone is a writer, his task is to write. If someone is a reformer, his task is to reform. If someone is a poet, his task is to write poetry. If someone is a lyricist, he will be remembered for his art. That’s how people should be remembered (for their works), and we don’t need to invade their personal lives to find faults and defects.

Host: But such things are pervading.

Guest: Personal affairs of revered personalities should be left to themselves. Just look at their work. If I am a Professor or researcher on Punjab, that’s enough. No one needs to

look at my religion or personal inclinations or affiliations; this isn’t necessary. Today, you invited me on your television show, for which I am very grateful, but that is because I am a researcher on Punjab. If you invite a political leader, then you would look at him from a political perspective, not a religious one. Likewise, if someone is a reformer, he will be viewed from another context. Whoever contributes to his field gets recognized; hence, we don’t need to delve into his personal or family affairs. This is a drawback in Punjabi culture; they observe minutiae, irrelevant and inconsequential details, and then politicize the whole thing. This is one of the most problematic issues in Punjab.

Host: We often highlight that education is important. We also say that if youth are equipped with education, it will change the course of the country. The youth of any country holds utmost importance. Previously, we were discussing women’s education, how much education and awareness are being provided to (Punjabi) women, and how many of them are being encouraged to join schools and universities and then join the profession they love and aspire to. But whenever we talk about Sikhya (Education), the element of religion cannot be excluded. It is often said (regarding Punjab of Pakistan) that Muslims are given educational opportunities while Non-Muslims are not. Are these things real? Are they happening in Pakistan?

Guest: My father Ch. Khadim Hussain used to say that in childhood, a man’s energy is in his hands and legs; he tries to run, play, and jump. Gradually, the energy moves towards his chest and heart, and he wants to change the world; he wants to become an activist. When he crosses his forties, he becomes mature and a thinker; he starts thinking. This is the age of his wisdom. When he becomes too old, his energies start to fade away, and he only speaks and starts babbling like a child. This is the cycle of life. Our scholars (Vidwan) think, use wisdom, and show the path, values, and wisdom. It is the task of the youth to implement those values and wisdom. Youth is the backbone of any society, and they are the ones who change society. The experience they gather when they reach the age of wisdom is then used to lead people forward from that perspective. Youth is very important. Hence, if the youth is kept away from education, there will be a lapse of awareness among them. This is why the youth, especially those in education, shall realize that their primary objective is learning, not money. The first textbook a child reads is his mother; she inculcates religious and moral values into him. The second textbook of a child is his society and surroundings; he learns from his society, as it is the second institution of learning. The third textbook of a child is his primary educational institution. But when he goes to university, the door becomes open for him; he is already socially constructed by his religion, society, and school. This is the time when he decides in which direction he wants to move, let’s say engineering, medical, religion, or IT. At that moment, he has to strike a balance between the training and learning he received earlier and the direction he now wants to move in. If he fails to do that, it will create an identity crisis in him. This is why he should not cut himself off from the learning he takes from his mother tongue and culture. The important thing is that whichever field he chooses, he has to carry his culture along with him.

If the student forgets his culture, he will face a severe identity crisis; he won’t be able to distinguish between his roots, i.e., whether he is Punjabi or belongs to the West. In Punjab, the English language is taken as a measure of intelligence and education; if someone speaks English in Punjab, he is often considered a scholar. But even in an English society, let’s say an insane or psychologically ill person also speaks English; does it denote wisdom? Of course not. English should not be given preference over Punjabi in Punjab. English is just a language, a mode of communication, and wisdom is

something else. Education doesn’t teach you wisdom; rather, it hones your skills and capabilities. It tells you how to behave. If there is a saint or an engineer inside you, getting an education will bring it out. Likewise, if there is a poet, writer, or historian in you, education will bring it out. The teacher is also an educationist and a facilitator. Our (Punjabi) students are away from books, and even before that, they are away from their Punjabi language and culture. They can speak one or two sentences in Punjabi but aren’t able to carry out a substantial conversation. I remember I was training some officers in Lahore. I asked them, “Do you know Punjabi language? As you’re all Punjabis,” they replied in assent, saying if they can’t speak Punjabi, then who would? So, I read out the lyrics of a famous Punjabi song:

Pichhe pichhe aunda meri chaal vehnda aen, Chirey valia vekhda aen ve, mera lawng gawacha

(translated as, following me, keep a watch on the route I walked; O turbaned boy, keep watching while my nose ornament is lost).

Then I asked what “Chiray wala” means in Punjabi, and they replied, “Those who have a straight line or distinct mark in their hairstyle (cheer).” I tried to suppress my laughter and said a “turban” (safaa) is called Cheera in Punjabi. The officers were shocked. Likewise, I was once posted in Murree as a Lecturer. While traveling in public transport in Punjab, you know in our society these days, the FM Radios have changed their styles. The Radio Jockeys speak while music plays in the background. So, neither can you enjoy her talk nor the music. The song being played was “Mahi merya rond na marin, me da laaya jind jan da” (My beloved, do not betray me as I have put my life at stake for you), probably sung by Noor Jahan. The Radio jockey said while lowering the volume, “I consulted a Punjabi scholar about the meaning of ‘rond marna,’ and he told me it means to shoot someone.” This shows the youth’s nonseriousness of Punjabis towards their language and culture.

Host: I think parents play an important role in the upbringing of children because whatever language the parents speak, the child will try to repeat it, as is the case in Observational Learning of a Child.

Guest: In our Punjab (both Eastern and Western), it is often said that if you don’t speak Hindi or English on the Indian side of Punjab, you probably won’t be able to compete in Indian civil services and other competitive exams. On our (Pakistani) side of Punjab, it is widely regarded that if you don’t know Urdu and English, you might not ace the civil services examinations. This is why they are encouraged to learn such languages, the language of capital (market language), which isn’t bad, but the problem arises when you discourage Punjabis from speaking Punjabi. The second thing is that when our children get this “heen bhavna” or inferiority complex, perhaps the Punjabi language is not a good language. But I think Punjabi youth can still struggle to regain the lost glory of their language. You see, in our home, it was said that if you don’t learn English and Urdu, you won’t succeed. Gradually, I started studying my culture; I read the poetry of Waris Shah, Bulleh Shah, Mian Muhammad Bakhsh, and Sultan Bahu, the famous Punjabi poets. Each verse of such gems contains pearls of wisdom. If our youth is getting away from Punjabi culture, they would lose gems of

wisdom. For example, our proverbial wisdom such as “Dhyian sab dian sanjhiyan hundian ne” (Daughters are cherished and valued by the entire community) or “Wadyan da ehtram karna chai da ay” (the elderly shall be respected), such ethics and values cannot come from the West. If we defy our (Punjabi) culture, we will not only be cut off from our language and heritage, but we will also lose the gems of wisdom that they carry. Especially poets like Mian Muhammad Bakhsh; his poetry is full of wisdom and appeals to the intellect.

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Navruz & Timur’s Empire: A Kaleidoscope of Cultures Blooms at Uzbekistan’s University of Journalism

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By Prof. Gulmira Shukurova

The University of Journalism and Mass Communications of Uzbekistan was not merely a campus today. It was a canvas — a living, breathing tapestry of silk, spice, melody, and memory. Under the resonant banner “The Spirit of Navruz and the Cultures of Amir Temur’s Empire,” the university exploded into a grand cultural festival that turned spring into a story and every visitor into a character within it.

The air thickened from the first light of morning with the fragrance of freshly baked samsa, saffron rice, and the smoky sweetness of tandoori bread. Students in embroidered chapan robes and shimmering kelin dresses moved like living paintings between pavilions. Professors set aside their lecture notes to become curators of heritage. And over it all, the gentle Navruz sun — ancient and forgiving — showered the grounds in gold.

Twenty Nations, One Heartbeat
More than twenty nationalities were represented in a sprawling open-air exhibition that turned the university courtyard into a radiant kaleidoscope. Each pavilion was a small universe: hand-carved wooden cradles from one culture, silver jewelry that jingled like forgotten poetry from another, and ceramic plates painted with symbols older than memory.

Students, dressed in authentic national costumes, did not simply explain their heritage — they lived it. A girl from the Karakalpak pavilion demonstrated a cradle-lullaby ritual while her partner played a dutar. A young man at the Uzbek stall brewed green tea in a ceramic teapot and recited a Navruz blessing. At the Tajik corner, an elder student handed out sumalak — the sweet wheat pudding of spring — while chanting a folk rhyme about renewal.

Every pavilion competed in charm. There were theatrical skits retelling the legends of Timur’s court, mock weddings showcasing bridal traditions, and even a miniature bazaar where visitors could haggle for handmade scarves and wooden spoons — all in good humor, all in the spirit of bakhshish (generosity). Students, as passionate cultural ambassadors, wove narratives through folk performances, theatrical enactments, and heartfelt conversations that connected visitors to the deep, rich history of their cultures.

A Gathering of Dignitaries and Dreamers
The festival drew a distinguished cross-section of the nation — and the world. Foreign ambassadors in formal suits walked side by side with students in embroidered skullcaps. International guests were seen laughing over plates of plov while Uzbekistan’s Minister of Higher Education, Science and Innovation paused to watch a theatrical performance of a Navruz legend.

State organization representatives, media professionals, and a sea of enthusiastic students filled the walkways. Cameras clicked. Voices hummed. At one point, a group of young journalists from the host university began recording short video interviews — capturing, for posterity, the authentic voice of Central Asian pluralism.

The ambassador of a European nation was overheard saying: “I have attended many cultural days. But this — this feels less like diplomacy and more like family.”

The True Essence of Spring
What made the day unforgettable was not just the spectacle, but the spirit. The university became a poem to spring — a celebration not merely of diversity, but of harmony. Under the open sky, interethnic unity and tolerance were not abstract ideals. They were visible in a Korean-Uzbek student teaching a Russian guest how to fold mandu, and in a Turkmen girl sharing dried apricots with a Kyrgyz journalist.

The event also carried a deeper, historical resonance. The reference to Amir Temur’s Empire was not decorative — it was a reminder that centuries ago, Samarkand was a crossroads of civilizations. Today, that crossroads lives again in every shared smile, every exchanged recipe, every spontaneous dance circle that erupted on the grass. The echoes of his empire — rich in art, culture, and conquest — were present in the performances, the artifacts, and the stories that unfolded before every attendee.

A Bridge Between Eras
As the afternoon sun softened into a honeyed glow, the festival reached its emotional peak. A choir of students sang a Navruz melody in five different languages — Uzbek, Tajik, Karakalpak, Russian, and English. Behind them, a troupe of young actors performed a shadow-play reenacting Temur’s famous decree of religious and cultural tolerance.

For a moment, past and present melted into one. The scent of qaynatma soup mingled with the sound of a child’s laughter. An elderly professor wiped a tear as a student placed a traditional cap on his head. And somewhere, a doira drum kept beating — steady, joyful, and deeply human. National melodies mingled with the laughter of friends, and ancient customs were revived with fresh enthusiasm, creating a vibrant tapestry that was as much about yesterday as it was about tomorrow.

More Than a Festival – A Tradition of Unity
In the end, this gathering was not a one-day celebration. It has become a beloved annual tradition at the University of Journalism — one that strengthens community bonds, nurtures shared values, and reminds everyone that spring’s true magic lies not in the flowers, but in the act of blooming together. The event was a testament to the university’s commitment to fostering tolerance and cultural exchange, where unity was not just an ideal, but a palpable experience.

As the last pavilion folded its carpets and the sun dipped behind the rooftops, guests left with full stomachs, lighter hearts, and the quiet understanding that culture, when celebrated with genuine joy, becomes the truest language of peace.

And that, perhaps, is the most powerful story of all.

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Muslim-Sikh Harmony in Punjab: Akhtar Hussain Sandhu with Arshdeep Kaur Battu in a TV Interview on Sanjha TV (Canada)

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Dr. Akhtar Hussain Sandhu, expert on Sikh/Punjab Studies, historian, scholar and columnist from Pakistan, currently living in USA was interviewed by famous anchor Arshdeep Kaur Battu for Sanjha TV, Surrey (Canada). The Light Newspaper is publishing first part of this interview and the rest of parts will be published in the forthcoming Sundays.

Translated by:

Farooq Muhammad Wyne

Lecturer in English

Government Islamia College Civil Lines, Lahore

Part 1

Host Arshdeep Kaur Battu: Welcome to Sanjha TV. I’m your host, Arshdeep. We extend a warm welcome to you on the Listen Up Segment with Arshdeep Kaur Battu. Today’s program features a very special discussion, as we have an esteemed Dr. Akhtar Hussain Sandhu with us. Whenever we discuss our Language (Boli) Land (Mitti) and Culture (Sabyachar), it takes us back to 1947 when our nation was divided, particularly Punjab.

Eastern Punjab (Charda Punjab or the Indian part of Punjab), Western Punjab (Lehnda Punjab or the Pakistani part of Punjab), and the present Punjab (Aha Punjab) have been established in different regions (Pakistan and India). In these Punjabs, diverse discussions occur, indicating that Punjabis from different lands still feel connected to one another, despite the separation caused by borders. Whenever Punjabis meet, we take pride in our culture, embrace one another, attend each other’s marriages, and participate in each other’s joys and sorrows. We are concerned about the division of Punjab, but such discussions in the Punjabi Diaspora (Teeja Punjab) often take a different turn.

Typically, we focus on Indian Punjab (Charda Punjab), but today we are discussing Pakistani Punjab (Lehnda Punjab). For this, we have the highly honorable Dr. Akhtar Hussain Sandhu with us. When it comes to his personality, no introduction is needed. He is a scholar, a historian, and an author of multiple books. He hails from Pakistan and is with us today in Canada. We welcome you, Dr.

Sandhu.

Guest Akhtar Hussain Sandhu: Thank you very much for your love and kindness. I also extend my gratitude to those living in Canada and everyone listening to us for their love and affection for Punjab.

Host: Dr. Sandhu, I recall our first meeting in the library. As I got to know you, my respect for you grew continuously. I then thought we should invite you to our panel, and we are grateful for your valuable time. Currently, you are in Surrey. How are you feeling?

Guest: I am very happy to be here. It feels like home because wherever you find love for your language, land, and culture, you feel a sense of belonging. Regarding our meeting in the library, I am very happy to visit the Gurdwara, which serves as a center for community love for Punjabi culture and education. The Gurdwara represents the symbol of education, wisdom, and learning. I felt extremely pleased that you have a library next to your studio. As you know, there is a shortage of libraries, and our Punjabi youth seem to be moving away from books and libraries. We need to promote Punjabi culture through education. I am delighted to be in Surrey, especially because I met many good friends here, including Sardar Jaiteg Singh Anant, Gian Singh Sandhu, Jaswindar Singh Parmar, Harpreet Singh and other friends, such as poets, journalists, and authors. I pray for all these gentlemen and wish that Punjabis, wherever they live, continue to flourish. The Punjabis living in Canada are like flowers spreading the aroma of Punjabi culture in this land.

Host: Thank you, and on behalf of all Canadian Punjabis, we welcome you to this land. Our hearts feel delighted when it comes to Pakistan, and we become eager to learn about it. Although I have never been to Pakistan, I have a strong desire to visit, especially the land of Punjab where our Sikh ancestors lived. I would like to visit the sacred places we see in videos, where our pilgrims go and touch the sacred walls of those buildings. Whenever we see such videos, our eyes become wet, and I believe the experience will be even more intense when I physically visit.

Today, we will discuss various topics as you are also a historian, a scholar, actively engaged in youth affairs, and most importantly, the Principal of an esteemed college. When we talk about Pakistani Punjab, the topic of minorities, which you have already discussed, is of utmost importance. We have also touched on the pride of Punjabi culture. Now, coming to the topic of women’s education and empowerment, as you know, every country talks about gender equality. Could you share your thoughts on women’s education in Pakistani Punjab and the steps being taken to ensure their education and welfare?

Guest: Indeed, you have raised an important question. I understand that some people might not agree with me, but my stance is that in our Punjab, there are many organizations that advocate for women’s empowerment. However, I view them from two different angles. The status of human beings is different and somewhat elevated. If you compare them to animals, you might say that they have some physical similarities, but in terms of intellect, they are two distinct species. In my opinion, a woman is highly respectable and honorable because she gives birth.

Sometimes I say God is the creator, and on earth, it is the woman who gives birth and gives life, meaning you find a God-like characteristic in a woman that is not found in a man. Secondly, a woman is the epicenter of peace, love, and fragrance. A man’s dynamics are different; he is a warrior who goes out and earns. Therefore, there is no comparison between men and women; they are two different genders with distinct roles and characteristics. Even if we look at the physical attributes of a man and a woman, we will find differences.

Before the inception of civilization, people who lived in caves, as some experts claim, were considered uncivilized. However, I don’t believe they were uncivilized. During the Stone Age, women who gave birth in caves raised their children without modern facilities and technologies. These women were able to continue the human race through their special care in raising their offspring. Therefore, they were not uncivilized but rather civilized as they managed to preserve the human species that we have become today. Then civilization began, so you cannot disconnect the period of the inception of civilization from the Stone Age. Human beings, especially women, played an important role in the transition of the human race from the Stone Age to civilization. This is why the status of women has always been highly elevated, even from the start. Additionally, we say God provides and sustains us, and there is no doubt about it, as it is one of His attributes. When it comes to society and our homes, who provides and nourishes us? It is our women—our mothers, sisters, and wives.

Two things are very important in life on earth: creation and sustenance. In the Heavens, God does that, and on earth, it is the woman who is endowed with such characteristics. However, I do not believe that comparing men and women to determine who is superior or inferior is productive; instead, we should discuss the different and important roles that both genders play in society, especially women whose status is as elevated as it can be. In our Punjabi culture, whenever there was a vendetta, it was the women who would go to the enemy’s house, and the fight would end due to the woman’s honor. If someone placed a woman’s scarf (dupatta/chunni) at someone else’s feet, the fight would end immediately. This was our culture, and this was women’s honor.

There is an incident which is not recorded in history but is sometimes quoted by a segment of the Punjabis of our Lehnda Punjab (Pakistani part of Punjab) that when Maharaja Ranjit Singh told his Wazir (minister) about a debate among Muslims regarding a garden called Bagh-i-Fadak, he expressed that it should be given to the daughter of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). When the wazir asked for evidence, Maharaja reprimanded him, saying, “Hold your tongue because when daughters of an honorable family come to someone’s door, no other justification should be demanded. Hazrat Fatima (RA) was not an ordinary lady but a daughter of the Prophet (PBUH) of the Muslims; she should be given the whole kingdom by them…if she asked for everything, she should be given everything.” This illustrates the importance of a daughter or a woman. It is widely known in our folklore that when daughters come to someone’s door, everything should be put on hold. We often see men as chivalrous, but when they see a single drop of tears in the eyes of their daughters and women, it melts them down. How brave and strict a man may be, when he is in front of his mother and daughter, the same strict man becomes like a fusible candle. When we look at the culture of Punjab, we are amazed by the purity and sense of equanimity. There is an element of respect for women in Punjabi culture.

Similarly, the concept of “Zar (Wealth), Zan (Women), Zameen (Land)” is prevalent in Punjabi culture. However, if we critically analyze it, we will realize that men in Punjabi culture have always put their lives at stake for their women. This demonstrates the respect for women in Punjabi culture. In contrast, in Western culture, you’ll find the idea of rugged individualism, whereas in Punjabi culture, the sense of collectivity is more prevalent. What is often perceived as a male-dominated society is actually not so; rather, the honor they have for women is unparalleled. You cannot harass a woman in Punjabi culture and get away with it; such a phenomenon is not found in the West. In Punjabi culture, there is also a dominant aspect: even if someone has seven sons, he would pray to God for a daughter because to him, sons are inheritors of properties, and daughter is the custodian of the funeral of father (dhee jinazey di waris).

Host: Those who have daughters can understand. I can see you’re being a bit emotional right now.

Guest: Just look at the beauty of our culture. It is often misrepresented that in Punjab, women are usually treated as concubines and inferior, but don’t rush to such conclusions before studying and analyzing all aspects of Punjabi culture.

Host: As our Guru Nanak once said, “So kyo manda aakhiye, jit jamme rajan” (Why call her bad who gives birth to kings?). It is also said that God doesn’t come down to earth to show us what Paradise looks like, but He created Mother to give you a glimpse of Paradise and told you that Paradise lies at her feet. As you (Dr. Akhtar) have shared about the glorification of women in Punjabi culture, a large segment of Punjabi society follows such ethics, but there are still some who disregard women.

Guest: Yes, I understand your point. The issue is this: there are two paths—one is right, and the other is wrong. One path is of God, and the other is of Satan. One path is spiritual, and the other is materialistic. All religions, including Islam, have given us the path—the path of goodness, called Sirat-al-Mustaqeem (the Right Path) in Islam. Now, you see, there is one individual who values material things above all, but on the other hand, there is another man who rejects himself and works for the betterment of human society. Now, tell me, which one of these will be remembered in history? The selfish or the altruistic?

Look at the example of Baba Guru Nanak; if he wanted, he could have amassed wealth, but no, he chose the other path. He worked for the betterment of his surroundings; he distributed whatever he had to the poor. He did “Sucha/Sacha Sauda” (the righteous transaction). Today, why do people remember him? Because of his deeds. He sacrificed wealth for the sake of spiritual people. Even after centuries, those to be remembered are the likes of Guru Nanak and other selfless individuals who worked for society and humanity. If a criminal-minded person grabs and plunders the rights of women, or if someone uses religion for personal gain or social status, or if someone is money-minded, history will not recognize them with decent diction.

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