Quintessential turbanator who stands out

The turban is a symbol of the religio-ethnic identity of a people of Punjab known for their valour, magnanimity and friendly disposition. These days, they occupy a prominent place in social media for the rehabilitation services they are providing to people displaced either by floods, earthquakes, war or violence, the world over. Yet, the fact that they are vulnerable to racial attacks and hate crimes, that too because of mistaken identity, cannot be discounted.

During a recent visit to the US and Canada, I had the worst nightmare of my life. My journey started with fears in the mind and a thousand prayers in the heart; though I didn’t share my thoughts with my husband or sons. Everywhere we went, my watchful eyes would dart around looking for any prospective danger; and if my mind gave any such (self-created) signals, I would walk in front of my husband, giving him cover.

When I told him this on our return, he had a hearty laugh and called a black cat commando.

Turbanators stand out in a crowd, representing the sanctity of their faith. They embody the qualities ascribed to the quintessential Punjabi (Indian as well) spirit, namely energy, enthusiasm, large-heartedness, fearlessness; love for music, dance and celebration of life, and of course the habit of going on a binge. These qualities tend to elicit a look of recognition, a smile, a wave, a nod, a ‘how ya doin’.

Many a times, people just stop and talk, establishing an immediate connect. On our first visit years ago, there was a young American who came to us with, “Jai jai Shiv Shankar…this is all I know about your country India.” In true Punjabi spirit, people from across our border meet my husband as though he’s a long lost brother. About three decades ago, while visiting Italy, my husband had a heart to heart talk with a person from West Punjab in a marketplace. They discussed at length the common cultural and literary history that the two Punjabs share. This time too, a gentleman talked to him in chaste Punjabi and it was only when he left, greeting him with ‘Rab rakha’ did we learn about his homeland.

During our visit to the Niagara Falls, a young man came and stood near us at the railing and started talking in Punjabi about the falls and other wonders of the world. Suddenly, he said, “You have one of these, Taj Mahal, in your mulk (country).” He was from Pakistan, too. I believe it’s the turban that creates an instant affinity between the two Punjabs.

At times, while visiting other Indian states, people come forward to greet you with Sat Sri Akal. Last year, while visiting a crowded market in Jaisalmer, a Rajasthani garment shopkeeper said, ‘Wahe guruji ka Khalsa, wahe guruji ki fateh! Aao ji. You needn’t buy anything, but please stay to share a cup of tea.” We politely thanked him and moved on.

That’s not all. Once while in Shillong, we were having tea at a roadside dhaba when a group of college students across the road called out loudly, “Yo Yo Honey Singh!” I found this comment most amusing because my husband is miles and miles away from music.

THEY EMBODY QUALITIES OF ENERGY, ENTHUSIASM, LARGEHEARTEDNESS, FEARLESSNESS; LOVE FOR MUSIC, DANCE AND CELEBRATION