Friday, October 24, 2008

Challa

Challa is a punjabi folk song that's been around forever, obviously. Since Indian music is dominated by Bollywood now, the folk songs that you hear now are ones that have survived the test of time. They strike a chord whether you heard them from your parents while you worked in the fields as a kid way back when or if you were sniffing around on youtube and clicked something that seemed vaguely familiar. The latter would be me, in case you didn't get that. So, several days ago I rediscover this song and find this lovely version of it sung by one of those rare present day sufis, Rabbi Shergill. I've been completely hooked to it, and for the first few days it made me really sad. It's so heart wrenching, it remind me of a part of myself that's always stuffed away somewhere and brought out to try on every now and then and then put away again. Like an old dress that you got from your Mom that you wore so fondly before but looks sorta silly on you now and doesn't go with any of your shoes. The song is lovely to me in its abstractness and its willingness in being interpreted any way you like. The word "Challa" literally means "Ring", the kind you wear, which is made quiet obvious in the Dali-esque video. I don't know much Punjabi, I took the liberty of translating it and putting it in my own words. I'm not really competing from accuracy here and have just put down my interpretation, with some help from other blogs and discussion boards. Don't read it if you consider yourself an independent thinker. Before I spoil all the fun, heres the video...




Chhalla vas nahi oo mere

Chhalla vas meri maan de

Ghallegi tan jange

Ve gall sun chhallia

Khaure keeta kis is ‘te toona



The ring, it heeds me not

The ring, it heeds only my mother

It will leave if she wishes

Listen to me, my darling

I don’t know who cast this spell



Chhalla bambi da paani

Kithhey veh gaye ne jaani

Asan khabar ko na jaani

Ve gall sun chhallia

Teri beri ik uggia ey kanda



The ring, water deep in the well

Who knows where it seeped away

I have no news from it

Listen to me, my darling

On your vine grows a thorn



Chhalla gut ik lammi

Asan supne chummi

Hoi neeyat si anni

Asan dil di si manni

Ve gall sun chhallia

Hun de lai jehrhi deni ey sazaa



The ring, a long braid

I kissed in a dream

I was blinded by desire

But I listened to my heart

Listen to me, my darling

Then punish me as you will



Chhalla boharh ik ‘kalla

Unhe farhia ey palla

Thalle dharat utte Allah

Ve gall sun chhallia

Khaure jandian kinni dunghian jarhan

Es gall da os khud nu nahi pata



The ring, a lone banyan

Where it sprouted it held fast

To the Earth below and God above

Listen to me, my darling

How deep his roots run

He himself does not know



Chhalla ambian kachian

Mattan de koi sachian

Laiey lekhe jo bachian

Terian merian gharian

Ve gall sun chhallia

Langh javan ain na umran khaali



The ring, unripe mangoes

Somebody give me some true advice

Let’s think of what’s left

Of your time and mine

Listen to me, my darling

Lest our lives should go to waste



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