Riding with the ebb and flow of Sirhind Canal

Ihave a lifelong connection with Sirhind Canal, the lifeline of Malwa. It was opened by the then viceroy of India, Lord Ripon, on November 24, 1882, in the presence of the rulers of the erstwhile Phulkian states of Patiala, Jind and Nabha. It converted the arid region plagued by frequent famines into an area of lush fields.

My ancestral village is on its Bathinda branch, my mother’s on its Kotla branch and my wife’s on the Patiala branch. My grandfather saw the water flow in the Bathinda branch in 1882 and I saw the water flow in the Sidhwan branch in 1952. I spent my childhood in the vicinity of the Bathinda branch and am enjoying my sunset years, living by the Sidhwan branch.

I lived from 1947-49 in Rampur, which is on the right bank of the main canal. I have fond memories of cycling along it up to Doraha while going to school at Jaspalon; drinking the cool sweet water of the hand pump on its bank; and relishing the black juicy jamuns from the tree grown in the strip along it. We enjoyed picnics in the lawn of the rest house at Rampur and compared the time shown on the sundial installed there by Captain Kennedy with the time on the wrist watch of our teacher.

I also have the horrible memory of marauders stopping trains on the Doraha railway bridge and murdering Muslims migrating to Pakistan mercilessly in August-september 1947. The corpses were thrown into the canal which turned its waters red.

An American professor, Ray Griffith, taught English at Punjab Agricultural University (PAU), Ludhiana, in 1973-74. During a visit to my village, Chak Bhai Ka, he remarked, “Amarjit, what a pity these excellent canal roads for cycling are underused!” I suggested, “Ray, why don’t you return next year for a cycle tour along the canals?”

He came from Seoul in 1975 and we enjoyed a bicycle tour along the canal roads from February 10 to 27. We started from Nangal and cycled along the Bhakra canal from Ropar, took the Sirhind canal from Bowani, the Bathinda branch till the tail at Raike, then up the Rajasthan canal and finally the Sidhwan canal and the tour terminated at Ludhiana. We spent nights at rest-houses, gurdwaras or with relatives and even strangers. It was a wonderful experience.

Ray had lived in Lalton and bicycled daily to PAU, a part of the journey along the Sidhwan canal on which he wrote a long poem describing the scenes on the way. The poem concludes describing the sunset.

The massed plumes of the elephant grass

Are stilled. The crows are silent

All movement stops, but for the canal

which flows without end upon an infinite plain

The moment is eternal. Ray passed away in the US on April 1, 2005, but left an indelible memory for me.

At my village from the bridge fall, water was diverted to run a flourmill (ghrat) which has now been abandoned. The water has been diverted on the other side to run a micro-hydel plant. The old has yielded to the new. The eucalyptus has replaced tahlis and the canal roads are being macadamised. The rest houses have gone into private hands. The canals have been polluted.

The Sirhind canal and the water channels, which crisscross the Malwa, are a testimony to the farsightedness of British rulers. More than a century old canal bridges that were made only for bullock carts are still in use and can withstand the weight of heavy vehicles, which shows that there was no corruption in those days.

MY GRANDFATHER SAW THE WATER FLOW IN THE BATHINDA BRANCH IN 1882 AND I WITNESSED THE WATER FLOW IN THE SIDHWAN BRANCH IN 1952