Sassi punnu love story

In the southern tip of present-day Pakistan in the Sindh province, there once was a raja that mightily ruled the lands of Bhambour. He had had many children but was blessed with only one daughter.  She was named Sassi, meaning the moon, for they thought she was as pure and splendid as the moon. When she was born, the raja and his wife went to an astrologer to learn of their daughter’s fate.  The wise astrologer prophesied to the parents that their one and only daughter would bring great shame to her parent’s honor.  Saddened, the poor parents had no other choice.  Sassi could not stay there.  They could not bear to kill their child.  Instead, they placed their beautiful daughter in a basket to send down the Indus River.  Before placing her in the basket, however, Sassi’s mother tied a taweez filled with a prayer around her daughter’s neck for protection. 

Downstream, a poor dhobi was washing clothes, a hard day’s labor for a meager wage.  This poor man named Atta had a wife but they could not conceive a child.  They had prayed for many years but to no avail.  While finishing up the last of the shirts he had in his bundle, the dhobi saw something strange floating on the river.  He watched as it got caught in some bushes. It was a basket.  He took it out of the river and saw that within was the most precious baby girl he had ever seen.  The first name to come out of his mouth was Sassi.  He took her home to show his wife the answer to their prayers.

So as it is, Sassi grew up the daughter of a poor dhobi.  She was happy.  She knew no other life.  As she grew older, her beauty grew deeper.  She became known for her charming looks throughout the land. Hearing about her, the raja of the land sent for this young woman.  As summoned, she went to the palace to be before the raja.  There, the raja’s wife saw the taweezstill around Sassi’s neck and knew at once that this was her daughter.   Happy to be together again, the raja insisted that she stay with them in the palace.  However, Sassi could not bear to leave the poor old dhobi and his wife, who raised her all these years.  Still, the raja made relentless efforts to win her back.

In another one of the raja’s attempts, the raja invited Sassi to a large garden made by a neighboring raja.  As she explored the depths of the garden, she saw the most beautiful painting of a young man.  She fell in love with his strong stature and noble appearance.  She had to meet this man.  Word traveled fast.  The man in the painting heard of this beautiful woman wanting to meet him so he disguised his true identity as the Prince Punnu and dressed as a trader of art to meet Sassi.  They fell in love and began to blossom as lovers.  

Sassi, who had disregarded her royal birth and biological parents, continued to live as a dhobi’s daughter and nothing more.  Punnu did not know her past and she would not dare to tell it.  To him, she was a dhobi's daughter and to her, he was a mere art trader. When it came time for Punnu to ask for Sassi’s hand in marriage, the only parents he knew to ask were the dhobi and his wife.  The dhobi knew the importance of a humble husband, whether he be a prince or a peasant.  He decided to test Prince Punnu and told him that if he could correctly wash a shirt, then he would be able to wed his daughter, Sassi.  Punnu, who had never washed a single article of clothing, was unable to wash the shirt in the river against the rocks like a dhobi.  The shirt came back torn.  The prince offered large amounts of gold coins to compensate for his failed attempt and grudgingly the dhobi took it, knowing that his daughter’s heart would only be happy with Punnu.

Next came time for Sassi to gain approval from Punnu’s family.  Punnu went to speak with his parents.  However, when Punnu spoke with his parents about Sassi, they flatly refused because she was the daughter of a dhobi.  No way could a prince marry a daughter of a poor man who washes other people’s laundry for a living.  Punnu would not be swayed.  His heart was set on Sassi.  No one else would do. 

Seeing this, Punnu’s family decided to pretend to go on with the wedding.  In celebration, Punnu’s brothers decided to take him drinking the night before the wedding.  His brothers gave him a large glass to drink. Punnu drank and drank until he passed out.  Then, Punnu’s brothers took their brother far away from the wedding celebrations to another village.  With Punnu in a different state of mind and place, the wedding could not go on. 

Sassi heard the sad news on her wedding night, while she was getting dressed for the ceremony.  Afraid of what would become of her Punnu, Sassi, while still wearing her wedding clothes, ran across the desert sands toward the village, calling out to her Punnu.  Halfway through her journey, she saw a shepherd and asked for some water.   The shepherd saw her beauty.   He could not rest until she was his.  He grabbed her and she cried out to the heavens for help. 

Meanwhile, Punnu had regained his senses back in the village he had been taken to.  When he realized that his family had tricked him, he too ran just as Sassi had, across the desert, calling out the name of his love.  He was about halfway there when he heard Sassi calling out.

Suddenly, through Sassi’s pleas to the skies, the ground shook underneath them and split into two.  The earth swallowed up both Sassi and Punnu.  Now, in that same place, there are two mountains that remain together for eternity.

Sohni mahiwal love story

In a village along the Chenab River in Punjab, there was a potter who created the most lovely earthenware pots in the region.  He went by the name Tulla.  His pottery was known in all the land and people would come from all over would to purchase his beautiful pottery.  The pots were well baked and sturdy while coming in various shapes and sizes.  All of the pots had wonderfully intricate hand-painted designs that would set them apart from any other pot. 

The day Tulla and his wife had a daughter was the happiest day of their lives.  She was the prettiest baby girl they had ever seen.  Others agreed, so they named her Sohni, meaning “beautiful” in Punjabi.  Their wonderful daughter only grew more and more lovely with age. 

Tulla had taught his daughter the art of painting lovely designs on his pots.  As she grew older and Tulla’s eyesight grew worse, Sohni was the only one who painted the designs.  She added her own style to them.  One day, a very wealthy young man from the great city Bukhara in Uzbekistan came to Tulla’s home to buy some pottery.  His name was Izzat Baig.  While he was examining which pieces to buy, he happened to see Sohni, in full concentration on a pot she was painting.  He could not take his eyes off of her.  She was bent with her head in tilted over a small pot used to store sweets in.  Using a small, fine brush, Sohni used meticulous strokes to achieve her desired pattern.  Izzat Baig was in love.  He asked Tulla if he could buy the pot that she was painting.  He replied that that pot needed to be baked still before it could be purchased.  Otherwise, it would be useless and fall apart without being baked.  Izzat Baig said he would return tomorrow for it.

After purchasing the pot the next day, he found excuses to return day after day just to buy more and more pots.  He had had his fill but his eyes had not drunk enough of Sohni.  They wanted more.  When it was time for him to leave, he told his fellow travelers to go on without him.  He was going to stay in this village for a while longer. Days passed and his money supply dwindled but he continued to visit Sohni at her father’s shop.  Tulla decided to hire Izzat Baig as a water buffalo herder.  Because of this, he became known as Mahiwal, or buffalo man.

Love, by nature, is an infectious disease.  If one is affected, others around the sickly cannot help but to feel the same symptoms.  This was the case for Sohni.  She saw Mahiwal day after day.  She knew he came only to see her and she had grown accustomed to it.  Whenever he was late, her heart sank but as soon as she would see him coming up the road, she felt like she was flying again.  Love had taken a hold of her, too.

The two lovers began to meet in secret.  Their union was blissful.  Their separation, intolerable.  But each day they would meet whenever they could, happily stealing moments just to be with each other.

Love never hides though.  Neither did Sohni and Mahiwal’s love.  This kind of love was forbidden.  It was arranged then that Sohni would marry another potter who lived nearby.  When the marriage ceremony was completed, Sohni moved to a neighboring house. 

Mahiwal, distraught, took up residence in a small hut across the river from Sohni’s house.  He renounced the lands he came from and believed that the earth under Sohni’s feet was his dargah, or shrine. 

Sohni’s husband was a pottery merchant who had to travel long distances that caused him to be away for days on end.  At night, Sohni would sit up and look across the river at her lover.  One night she got the idea of using a baked earthenware pot to aid her to stay afloat as she crossed the river.  Because she did not know how to swim, she held on the pot tightly.  Her life depended on it.  Mahiwal saw her coming and swam until he met her and they successfully made it across the river in each other’s arms.

Mahiwal, at this point in his life, was poor.  He did not have enough money to properly feed his Sohni.  On one such night when Sohni was going to come, Mahiwal realized that he had no food to feed her.  Without thinking, he carved a piece of his thigh.  Without telling his beloved of his pain, he swam a part of the way to her wearing dark clothes so the blood would not show.  Sohni ate the meager banquet laid before her with great relish that he prepared this meal out of love for her.

After Sohni returned from her nightly meeting with her love, Sohni’s sister-in-law saw her replace the earthenware pot that she had used to travel across the river in the bushes underneath a window.  She stood aghast and thought of a plan to wreck these unsolicited meetings.  Sohni’s sister-in-law placed an unbaked pot for Sohni to use the following night.

The next night, Sohni took the pot and began her journey to meet her lover.  When she was a quarter of the way across, she realized something was wrong.  The sturdy piece of pottery that served as her lifesaver was melting into the water.  She called for her Mahiwal.  Mahiwal heard his love’s cries.  He swam as far as he could with his limp leg.  He met her drowning body halfway through the river but he could not hold himself up against the current.  While holding on to each other, they both drowned in the Chenab River.

Mirza sahiba love story

A long time ago, in the village of Khewa, a town in the Sial Territory of Punjab, there was a woman who gave birth to a baby boy.  Unfortunately, she died after giving birth so she was not able to give milk to her son.  However, there was another woman nearby who had recently given birth to a girl.  This woman took it upon herself to help the little boy.  She fed this boy as she did her own daughter.

Thus, as is the custom for such occasions, these two children became “milk siblings” because they were given the same milk to drink.  Later as the children became adults, the girl, named Fateh Bibi, got married and moved a day’s journey on horseback away to the village of Danababad near present-day Faisalabad.  Fateh Bibi married a man named Wanjal and they had a strong son named Mirza.

Meanwhile, Fateh Bibi’s milk brother, no longer a boy but a man named Khewa Khan, stayed in his village.  He also married and had a daughter named Sahiba.

When it was time to enroll the young children in school, Mirza’s parents had decided to send him to his “milk uncle’s” house so he could get educated there.  Sahiba’s father enrolled her and her “cousin” into classes to learn the Quran together since they were of the same age. 

Mirza did not know that his “cousin” Sahiba was such a beauty one can only dream of beholding.  He did not notice her at first when he came to Khewa to study because they were just children.  But as the two children grew into adolescence, feelings of love began to blossom between the two. 

One day, while walking back from school, the adventurous, young Mirza took a different path home.  On that street there was a bazaar.  Here he saw Sahiba buying some vegetables for her family.  He watched as she asked for various squashes and leaves to cook.  When the merchant began to weigh her purchases, he weighed out extra because he was lost in her beauty.  Mirza, too, was transfixed by her gracefulness and raced all the way home fueled by love.

As he grew older, Mirza learned to be a skilled horseman and archer.  He rode on a powerful steed named Bakki who swiftly maneuvered through the land.  Mirza was so skillful that every arrow he shot would willfully go exactly where he wanted.  Sahiba only grew more and more beautiful with time.

Soon, their love began to blossom.  Mirza could not live without his Sahiba.  They were lost in their own world.  Once, when Sahiba had pronounced her lessons incorrectly, her maulvibeat her with a chimmak.  This thin branch gives a person a burning sting when swatted with it.  As Sahiba received her punishment with the chimmak, she spoke to the maulvi. 

“Why are you burning me with this punishment when I’m already burning with love?”

Sadly, their days of blissful love did not last.  Sahiba’s parents found out about the love affair and sent Mirza back home to his parents.  Not too long after that, they arranged Sahiba’s marriage to a man named Tahir Khan.  He was from the same town.  With Mirza back home, Sahiba’s parents were able to prepare for the wedding without any interruptions. 

Sahiba, via her friend, a Brahmin named Kammu, sent word of her unfortunate marriage to her darling Mirza.  As soon as he heard of this, he made plans to leave.  His family tried to stop him but he would not succumb to their pleas.  He had to go.  Before Mirza left, his father, seeing that there was no other way, went to Mirza and told him that if he went, then he must be sure to return with Sahiba or else it would bring great dishonor. With those words, Wanjal gave his son his blessings to pursuit his love.

“Chal, my Bakki,” Mirza, equipped with his bow and arrows, commanded his horse to ride on to the village of Khewa.

Mirza reached Sahiba on the day of the wedding right before the ceremony was about to proceed.  He opened to door to the room Sahiba was waiting in and entered secretly.  He admired her;  she was dressed in bright red wedding clothes, her delicate hands darkly painted with mehndi.  Without waiting another moment, he held her hand and took her away with him on horseback and rode until he thought that they had reached a safe distance.  Tired, he decided to rest by under the shade of a tree while his sweet Sahiba watched over him.

Meanwhile, back at the wedding party, Sahiba brothers called for her to come down to proceed with the ceremonies. When she did not come, her brothers realized that something was wrong.  Sahiba’s brothers, the jilted bridegroom, and other male cousins rode on horseback in search for Mirza and Sahiba.

Sahiba, while keeping watch over her slumbering beloved, feared that her brother would soon catch up.  She did not know what to do.  If her brothers came and Mirza woke up then her brothers would be sure to die at the hands of Mirza’s quick arrows.

With the hope of her brother taking pity on her, Sahiba reached Mirza’s quiver and broke each sharp arrow it contained in half.   She believed that no blood would be spilled this way.  Suddenly, Sahiba’s brother and relatives found the couple under the tree.  With one quick shot from Sahiba’s brother’s bow, Mirza awoke to an arrow piercing his throat.  Mirza reached for his arrow and saw all the broken pieces.  He looked up at Sahiba, searching for an answer in her face but was struck with yet another arrow, this time in the chest.  Sahiba threw herself over him and together, they died.

Heer ranjha love story

Roughly six centuries ago, in Takht Hazara, a village in the Punjab near present-day Sargodha, there lived a young man named Dheedo Ranjha.  The youngest of eight brothers, Ranjha was his father’s favorite and able to do whatever he pleased, even if that meant playing his flute all day long.  One unfortunate day, his father died, leaving Ranjha and his brothers to divide the inherited land.  Ranjha’s brothers thought he was an idle fool who spent his time playing his flute, so they allotted him an unfruitful piece.  Angry, Ranjha left, following the Chenab River south, in search of something more in life.

One night, Ranjha decided to take shelter in a masjid, or mosque, and continue his journey in the morning.  To pass the time before sleep, he played his flute.  The maulwi of the masjid heard the music of the flute.  He located the intruder and told him that flute-playing was not Islamic, and prohibited in a masjid.  In response, Ranjha told him that his innocent tune was hardly a sin compared to some acts that maulwis commit in the name of Islam.  Speechless, the maulwi had no other choice but to let Ranjha stay the night.

In the morning, Ranjha wandered on to the village of Jhang.  There he saw a large field with cows and lush with crops.  He approached the owner for work.  The owner, Chuchak Sayyal, chief of the Sayyal clan, agreed to Ranjha’s offer and led him to the stables where he would stay as a hired hand. 

Now enters our beautiful heroine.  Heer.  Even her name tells of her nature.  Heer, meaning diamond, was the daughter of Chuchak Sayyal.  Pages and pages of words could not give justice to her beauty.  She had a face like the full moon, eyes that sparkled like precious gems, teeth so white like the petals of the jasmine flower, lips red like rubies, a nose sharp like the end of Hussain’s sword.  She was delicate, yet strong. 

She studied the curious new hired hand, Ranjha.  His long hair, unruly physique and melodic flute-playing, attracted Heer.  She was in love with him.  The feelings were mutual.  How could he stop his heart from falling in love with someone as beautiful as she?  Their love flourished, as did the crops.  For a few years, they loved without obstacles.  It was pure and true.

Unfortunately, things cannot always remain how they are, good or bad.  Kaido, uncle to Heer, spotted the lovers one day.  He went to Heer's parents to discuss the matter. 

Heer’s parents confronted her, but she did not heed them.  She was in love with Ranjha and he would be the only man for her.  Dismayed, Heer’s parents called the qazi who judged matters of the village using Sharia law.  When he reminded her of what is expected of good Muslim girls, such as respect for parents and their honor, she only grew more adamant.  She replied that as drugs cannot be taken away from an addict, Ranjha could not be stolen from Heer.  Only Allah could change their destiny now.  Looking at her hand, she saw the scar where she had once burnt herself with an iron while recounting the countless memories of her Ranjha.  She commented, “True love is like a mark that a hot iron burns onto the skin or like a spot on a mango.  They never go away.”

Heer’s parents saw no hope.  Since she was firm in her decision, they were left with no other choice than to force her marriage to Saida Khairra. 

On the day of the wedding ceremony Heer was asked by the qazi if she accepted this proposal before signing the nikaah papers affirming the union.  She clearly stated “no.”  Her father, frightened by dishonor, quickly signed the nikaah papers anyway.  Heer proclaimed that she was already married to Ranjha, with the nikaah signed with Allah and His prophets as witnesses.  No one listened to her and she was taken to Saida’s house in another village.

The ill-fated Ranjha heard about his Heer’s equally bad fortune.  With nothing left to do, he wandered into the forest.  There he met with spiritual men called jogis and decided to join them.  He could not bear to think of his Heer in some other man’s arms.  Traveling with the jogis, the ash-covered Ranjha with pierced ears (signs of being a jogi) went from village to village, begging with his begging bowl.

One fateful day, he happened to knock on Saida’s house.  Sehti, Heer’s sister-in-law, answered and saw the handsome, young jogi.  Sehti had heard about Heer’s love.  She disagreed with her brother’s sin he committed by carrying out an unwilling marriage.  It was not Islamic, haram.  Taking this as her chance to correct her brother’s follies, she helped Heer escape with Ranjha. 

Ranjha and Heer escaped but were caught by the Raja.  He heard their tale and called for a qazi to deal with matters accordingly.  It was decided.  Heer was taken back to Saida’s home.  Ranjha, furious, cursed the villagers reminding them that Allah does not stand for injustice.  Almost immediately a fire lit up the town, frightening all.  Seeing the fire upon his land as an act of Allah, the scared Raja decided to let Heer and Ranjha go happily together.

If only our story ended here.  But what of Heer’s parents and their honor?  If Heer and Ranjha were allowed to marry, then what kind of example would that set for the rest of the village?

Heer’s parents plotted to avenge their honor on the wedding night. 

To celebrate the ceremony, they sent a basketful of laddu sweets laced with poison to the newlyweds. With such sweetness came such poison.  But it was too late, Heer had taken a bite from the round ball of sticky laddu and fell, motionless.  Ranjha, realizing what had happened, took the half-eaten laddu and ate bitterly, dying next to his beloved Heer.