Punjabi Quotes

“Marble flooring is to a Punjabi what a foreign degree is to a Tamilian”

“Marble flooring is to a Punjabi what a foreign degree is to a Tamilian”

“I thought about my [Punjabi] family. The only nakshatram we think about is the division of petrol pumps when we have to see the girl.”

“As her lips changed the geometry,Her smile turned to poetry.”

“In countries other than Pakistan - I won't necessarily call them 'Western' - people support me. This is because people there respect others. They don't do this because I am a Pashtun or a Punjabi, a Pakistani, or an Iranian, they do it because of one's words and character. This is why I am being respected and supported there.”

“These stupid biases and discrimination are the reason our country is so screwed up. It's Tamil first, Indian later. Punjabi first, Indian later. It has to end. National anthem, national currency, national teams - still, we won't marry our children outside our state. How can this intolerance be good for our country?”

“Flowers of sin, like some black sun,Bloom in my dreams Their perfume-sodden fragrance Spreading through each heartbeat.”

“The Most Dangerous (Sab Ton Khatarnak - Paash)The most dangerous occurrence is not a robbery of hard work,The most horrifying act is not a torture by the police,A merger of treachery and greed is not the most dangerous.To be trapped while asleep is surely miserable,To be buried under the silence is surely miserable,But it is still not the most dangerous.To remain silent in the noise of corruption is surely miserable,Reading covertly under the light of a firefly is surely miserable,But it is still not the most dangerous.The most dangerous deed is to be filled with a dead silence,Not feeling any agony against the unjust and bearing it all.Getting trapped in the routine of running from home to work and from work to home,The most dangerous accident is a death of our dreams.The most dangerous thing is that watch which runs on your wrist, but stands still for your eyes**A Translation of Paash's poem Sab ton Khatarnak by Jasz Gill”

“People worship god.I worship this separation from you.It is worth Haj to a hundred Meccas,This separation from you.People say I am as brilliant as the sun,They say I am famous.What a fire it has lit in me,This separation from you.Behind me is my shadow,Ahead, is my darkness.I fear that it might leave me,This separation from you.No taint of the body is in it,Nor litter of the mind,All has been winnowed out,By this separation from you.When sorrow comes, bringing with itLoneliness and pain,I pull it close to me,This separation from you.Sometimes it colors my wordsSometimes it weaves through my songs,It has taught me great deal,This separation from you.When sorrow, defeated, fell at my feet,Amazed at my fidelity,The world came out to seeThis separation from you.Love earned me fame.People flocked to praise me.It wept in my embrace,This separation from you.The world turned out to tell me,That I had been unwise.It sat me on a throne todayThis separation from you.”

“There are many places you need to be, but there is nowhere to reach. There are many people you need to see but no one to meet. And there are many contacts in your phone but no one to talk. There are many masks in your closet but no face to please.”

“Not a believer in the mosque am I,Nor a disbeliever with his rites am I.I am not the pure amongst the impure,I am neither Moses nor Pharaoh.Bulleh, I know not who I am.Not in the holy books am I,Nor do I dwell in bhang or wine,Nor do I live in a drunken haze,Nor in sleep or waking known.Bulleh, I know not who I am.Not in happiness or in sorrow am I found.I am neither pure nor mired in filthy ground.Not of water nor of land,Nor am I in air or fire to be found.Bulleh, I know not who I am.Not an Arab nor Lahori,Not a Hindi or Nagouri,Nor a Muslim or Peshawari,Not a Buddhist or a Christian.Bulleh, I know not who I am.Secrets of religion have I not unravelled,I am not of Eve and Adam.Neither still nor moving on,I have not chosen my own name!Bulleh, I know not who I am.From first to last, I searched myself.None other did I succeed in knowing.Not some great thinker am I.Who is standing in my shoes, alone?Bulleh, I know not who I am.”