Shiv Kumar Batalvi was born on July 23, 1936 in a village named Bara Pind Lohtian (currently located in the Sialkot district of Punjab) in Pakistan. His initial years were spent in the rustic and magical environment in the land of five rivers- Punjab, where folk songs and music flowed freely. The pure spirit of the land, tempered with the folklore and culture of its people, formed the foundation on which Shiv’s poetry found expression. From all accounts, his initial years were spent carefree till 1947, when the partition seems to have left a sadness in him which he later expressed in his poetry. His father, Pandit Krishan Gopal migrated to Batala in Punjab, where he was employed as a Naib Tehsildar. His mother, Shanti Devi, was a housewife. Shiv was fascinated by the Indian epics and the books of Punjabi literature. He had deep reverence for the gurus and it is said that his rendition of their shabad’s was mesmerizing. He also reveled in listening to the saints, hermits and folk singers who formed a unique aspect of Punjabi life at that time.
His parents did not think much of him and from all accounts wanted him to settle down- a train of thought that did not escape them till he was no more. Perhaps, it was then that they realized the enormity of his achievements. Shiv passed away on 7th May 1973 (2.30 am) at a young age of 36- unable to absorb the event, his father passed away within a month of his demise. In the brief time that he had on this planet, he lived a full life. Brightly he shone and had a premonition that his time on earth was short. Keenly aware of his fleeting existence – in his own words he talks to the almighty:
Asan te youban rutte marna, tur jana asan phare paraye
In the season of youth I shall die… pass on shall I in full bloom
Hijr tere di kar parkarma, Asan te yoban rutte marna.
Having circum-navigated this world of yours… pass on shall I in the prime-of-my-youth.
In 1965, Shiv Kumar Batalvi was awarded the Sahitya Academy Award- the highest literary award for literary achievements in India, for his book Loona. He is the youngest recipient of this honor to date.
Shiv was a happy soul- always characterized as the life of the gathering. Unlike some of the commentary, he did not regret anything in life and lived life to the fullest. He was popular in his school and college- he completed his matric from Punjab University in 1953. Though he joined the Baring Christian College in Batala (and other colleges subsequently), he was already a famous poet and a master of his craft. Later, when shiv expressed his interest in higher education by enrolling for a Master of Arts degree, his professor famously quipped –
“Tu agge pad ke ki karna hai, log taan tere te PhD karya karange“
“why do you want to study more, people will study you in future”.
In terms of employment, he was employed by the State Bank of India in an honorary designation.
Shiv (he refers to himself as shiv in his poetry) has left us with a rich treasure of work. From the very first to the last word he wrote, each is a masterpiece. When we talk of Shiv or his work, it feels like a reference to an eternal soul – the timeless expressions flowing through his poetry seem to be a vibrant foregone conclusion. Perhaps, that is what Shiv is- he is eternal youth and he is timeless. He kisses you in the present- at the same time he walks among the towering legends of literature effortlessly. It does not feel odd when we place him in the same pedestal as Bulle Shah, Waris Shah, Baba Farid or any poet of any age or language for that matter. At the same time, it does not feel even a bit strange when we find his words echoing the living sentiments of today. Be it his expression of love, or his description of a lovely girl, his feeling of loneliness or separation or longing, it feels like he is exactly expressing your own emotions. His words might be describing the highest of sins, but they seem divine- they resonate with your being and they become one with you. They seem truer than the truth you know- such is the timelessness of his poetry.
Shiv was very young when he recited his first poem. By the time he was a teenager his words were already pleasing angels and earthlings alike. In the next two decades, critics never figured him out. To this day they still debate the phenomenon that was witnessed on earth. In their worldly wisdom, they have rationalized and tried to come to terms with what they encountered. In the time he was here, he was highly criticized by intellectuals, madly loved by the masses, insanely revered by fans and lovers of literature, willingly embraced by friends and consciously immortalized by destiny. To add mystery to the picture, some speculate that it must have been a broken heart or an unfulfilled love here, a tragedy or a life-changing episode there that made him who he was. This speculation only trivializes the being- Shiv was always himself, always overflowing with life and he was eternally blessed. He was sensitive, could draw upon the experience of the universe into himself and express himself in such a unique poetic sense that could mesmerize even an unassuming, unconcerned point of view. If there is any class of people- be it lovers or haters- who experienced his endearing spirit and still willingly chose to dismiss it, it is their misfortune to have missed the point of it all.
Shiv was a romantic at heart and most of his poetry is romantic and upbeat. He walked among the stars and had a strong sense of his place in the annals of Punjabi literature. He wrote fearlessly and extensively wielded all tools of written prose to adorn his compositions. He was a voracious observer of the flora and fauna of the land- his knowledge of literature was complete and profound. His descriptions accentuate the nuances of human emotions and relationships and bring out the purity of their existence in a manner that resonates profoundly with the reader of his poems.
Shiv’s poems have a melodious musical sense about them. Shiv was a genius composer and an exceptional singer- he gave his words the most enigmatic, deep and enduring lyrical resonance. Like all the greats of Punjabi literature whose words have transcended time, he was a great singer, with a heavenly voice. Blessed are those who had the privilege of experiencing him sing- he sang for friends, in front of critics, at gatherings and for all people without distinction. He sang as long as his being supported him and as long as this world could bear the tremendous weight of his contribution. He sang when he was at ease with the times and when he had out shined his existence, he left us all to marvel at the body of work he left behind. His brilliance, simplicity and depth of expression in unparalleled in literature. Some call him the Keats of Punjabi Poetry, others call him ‘Birha da Sultan‘ (King of Longing), but Shiv was always ‘Shiv’, unique and at ease with his place in time. His poetry is simple and profound at the same time. Shiv’s poetry directly touches the depths of the heart- its simplicity and directness can mesmerize and awe the reader with impunity. The words can seem to be unassuming, simple and benign at times, but at the opportune moment, when their beauty and depth dawns upon you, the same words can suddenly turn potent, strike with abandon and stimulate the core of a being. His poetry is mystical and revels in longing and unity with the supreme. At a certain plane of existence it is divine.
At the peak of his fame, Shiv married Aruna, a simple reluctant beauty from the village of Mangial in Punjab. He confided to Prakash Biji (whom he respected as a mother) that he had finally found his ‘sucha moti“- “pure pearl”, as written in one of his poems. They brought two vibrant children Meharban and Puja to this world. Lost in his world of poetry, Shiv found peace in his family and when he felt his end was near, he was miserable at the prospect of leaving them behind. He breathed his last in the village of his in-laws on Sunday, May 6th, 1973.
At the simple moment when his heart stopped beating, it was as if time itself came to a grinding halt. Friends, family, foes, critics…no one knew what hit them. All roads from Mangial to Batala were instantly overflowing with an endless sea of humanity. Hordes of grieving people were desperate to catch a last glimpse of the favorite son of Punjab. Loudspeakers announced this news aloud to students in schools. Friends were inconsolable, desperate to reach out- unsuspecting fans around the world were shocked at the sudden untimely demise. For immediate family, Shiv had been keeping unwell for sometime and had been slowly disengaging from the world, but nothing had prepared anyone for this. Shiv’s time was short, but it was now evident how firmly he was entrenched in the consciousness of Punjab- an association that has only become stronger with the progression of time. Critics and family alike were only now waking up to the phenomenon that that was Shiv- they had never realized that it was so enormous.
Shiv Kumar Batalvi was cremated in Mangial the same day of his death- thus completing the full cycle of life. He was a fallible human and an enlightened being who visited the planet briefly and gave us an immortal collection of exquisite pearls of poetic expression that will adorn the world of literature forever. He left every moment of time during his existence in eternal debt. In his own words…
Mera Har Din De Ser Karza Hai, Main Har Din Ton Kugh Laina Hai,
Every Day owes me a debt, I need to get something out of each Day.
Je Zarban Devaan Bahiyan Nu, Taan Lekha Vad da Janna Hai.
If I tally all the records, then the balance will only continue to multiply…
Such is the enormity of his contribution that this not only rings true but it feels like eternity itself longs to repay this debt in vain.