The Gallant Bhaus from Majhas

The gallant Bhaus from macho Majha
by Punam Khaira Sidhu

Don’t go by their somewhat pejorative title: the “Bhaus” are as macho as they come. In fact there’s a theory that does the rounds of Punjab’s university campuses, where there is usually war between the “Kakaji” (Malwai) group and the “Bhau” (Majhail) group, that this epithet was coined by a disgruntled Kakaji.

You can spot a “Bhau” by the set of his square jaw — it’s their signature feature. Clothes, footwear, etc don’t matter, because they wear their attitude. Their ideals light up their gallant hearts, and their hearts; well naturally, they wear them on their sleeves. Flamboyant and quick tempered, they can be braggarts who love to show off but can morph into passionate crusaders and even visionary statesmen of which Kairon is a luminous example. Their tragic flaw is that they think with their hearts rather than their heads.

Majhails live in the shadow of the border. The daily strutting and shadowboxing of troops on either side, a la Wagah and Hussainiwala, sustains the fear psychosis of border life. This cocktail of fear and excitement imbues the Bhaus with the restlessness and craving for adrenaline, which is almost a part of their DNA. They have a fatal fascination for causes.

With so much angst, repressed energy and idealism at large its not surprising that almost every meaningful movement or cause has originated in Macho Majha. The Bhaus have always been the strong, zealous crusaders at the forefront of these, fanatically committed to whatever cause they subscribed to at the time.

Most adults living in Majha have seen the screaming sirens of at least two wars and the subsequent cold war ending with the Kargil faceoff. Many have seen their lands cut off in the process of cobra fencing by the BSF to secure the porous borders. Several have actually sneaked across the border and engaged in some clandestine smuggling of contraband and opium. Many a prosperous trader family has at least one Blackiya or smuggler to thank for the infusion of capital into the family business.

Land holdings in the Majha are shrinking and lack of meaningful investment in industry has meant that jobs are scarce. The young Bhaus seek education as a means to a professional career, preferably in the uniformed services.

Considering that even little ones as young as 10 are taught to hold a gun and aim straight at the Dushman, that’s not too difficult. Many an illustrious soldier of the Indian Army, police and the BSF can lay proud claim to a Majhail Bhau’s heritage.

Good food and drink is the key to the Bhaus’ simple rustic hearts. Bhaus are known to have stomachs lined with steel and can drink anyone under the table. Barrels of homebrewed liquor and contraband are washed down with gallons of lassi and milk the next morning.

But that’s back home in the Village. In the cities they bring business to the Paranthewala Dhabas. Not for them pizzas or KFC but Kake da Chicken. On campus, the Bhau is the Sir Galahad, offering to do chores for the fairer sex who are uniformly and respectfully addressed as Behenji (sister) and the men as Bhaji (brother).

This invokes the wrath of the Kakajis who have coined some dirty rhymes to jibe them.

The Bhaus stick together when out of their home territory but back home they can fell a brother over an argument. Tough, uncompromising yet conservative they are truly the Punjabi Knights, trying to preserve their own Camelot.

Kool Kakajis from Hot Malwa

Kool Kakajis from Hot Malwa
by Punam Khaira Sidhu

LIKE the “Yuppies” and the “Puppies” the “Kakajis” are a very typical genre of the Malwa region of Punjab. You can spot them a mile off, tall, bearded and clad in snowwhite “Pathanis” paired with Nike or Adidas open-toed sandals. They sport bling-bling gold “Karas” and the very latest in toys for boys; iPods, Handhelds and Mobiles.

The colour of their turbans is usually indicative of their political affilitiation but that’s only until they don golf caps to tee off at the Golf Club.

Sartorial preferences apart, they have a very distinct lifestyle too. They are raised on vast farms in the Malwa heartland, in large joint families, by surrogate Mothers-cum-Nannies who, usually survive several generations and call both the Grandfather and the Grandson by the same euphemistic epithet: “Kakaji”.

Raised in large joint families, Kakajis are the quintessential boys who never grow up. Responsibility is dispersed; hence its not a sought after trait. Life is simple and easy as only inherited wealth and largesse can make it. Schooling is typically in the hill boardings, Sanawar and Doon being particular favourites.

It could be followed by the occasional degree in Commerce or Law, usually in the royal division. Education is not a priority, but a certain savoire faire and some old school ties and networking skills are desirable. After all, someone has to manage all those “killas” (acres) back in Bathinda, Faridkot, Muktasar et al.

Kakajis are usually into a lot of male bonding rituals such as “Shikar”, cockfights and “kabutar” (pigeon) flights etc. While they may not actually get down and dirty, they are responsible for introducing some of the most enlightened and modern agricultural practices in the country. They also display a natural flair for affairs of the State and that’s where the colour of their turbans and their old school-tie affiliations come in rather handy and make politics the next logical progression.

They typically have three homes, one back on the Farm, one in Chandigarh, where the wives take turns to attend to the children’s education or even just catch up with the city life and, of course, the mandatory summer cottage in the hills, to escape the vile Malwa “loo”.

Their cars now truly reflect both their preferences and bank balances. MUVs for the farm and the long dusty commutes from the Malwa heartland, and spiffier cars for city driving. They switch with facility between “thet” (colloquial) Malwai,Punjabi peppered with the choicest expletives to the Queen’s English, each language spoken with the perfect accent. But the same proficiency cannot necessarily be attributed to their written word in either language.

This is the season when the Kakajis flock to Chandigarh. You can see them in their signature “Whites” on the Sukhna Lake, in multiplexes, and in the clubs, accompanied by their little Kakajis who are back home for the

summer vacation and enroute to the Cottage in the hills or for the Sanawar/

Doon Founder’s Week. They are gentlemen of leisure who have travelled the world, but their food of choice is still “Kukkad”, whether its served up as butter chicken with “Nans” or on pizza a la Pizza Hut. So when you hear them call out to each other as “Baiji”, you’ll know it’s the Kakajis at work @ killa.network.