Opinion The Dil in Diljit Dosanjh: What we saw on Jimmy Fallon’s show

Dosanjh’s music remains true to its linguistic roots. This sets him apart — his thrust towards the modern and contemporary without abandoning the traditional. His contemporaries, those with similar levels of fame like A P Dhillon or Sidhu Moose Wala model their appearance on Western rappers and delve into darker themes of Punjabi culture — guns, violence and objectification of women. Dosanjh’s music, for the most part, as seen from his Coke Studio song, ‘Magic’, has an elusiveness and sense of yearning. He navigates themes of love and desire in a way that’s reminiscent of traditional Punjabi folklore, a la Heer-Ranjha. Older works like his collaboration with Gurdas Maan in ‘Ki Banu Duniya Da’ evoke a similar sense of Punjabiyat as he sings about the need for a cultural renaissance to inspire the region’s youth, using the motif of the five rivers commonly seen in Partition poetry.

Dosanjh’s recent film, Amar Singh Chamkila, also looks at this celebration of Punjabiyat. But his character does so differently — celebrating his Sikh identity but not ignoring its uncomfortable realities, like the moral condemnation from upper castes, reprimanding the double meaning of Chamkila’s lyrics, which act as a commentary on social ills during one of Punjab’s most turbulent periods.

Dosanjh isn’t the only one engaged in this celebration of Punjabiyat. As popularised by Rahul Gandhi’s refrain during the recent Lok Sabha election campaign, Sidhu Moose Wala’s ‘295’, also holds deep meaning in the context of Punjabiyat. The song was appropriated by the opposition as a commentary against the misuse of religion for a cynical politics (the song is a reference to Article 295 of the IPC ) and the dilution of truth in the public eye. Although the late Moose Wala has been criticised for his penchant for AKs and fast cars, his work is permeated by rural woes and the distresses of Punjab. Moose Wala’s identity holds a duality, of violence and peace, of separation and unity — a mirror of the contestations within Punjabiyat. He is a lover and a fighter.

Diljit’s identity, on the other hand, is less mired in controversy. He, much like his song suggests, is just a lover. Punjabiyat is often saddled with the contentious themes — of Sikh secessionism, transnational unity, and distinct religiosity, before even reaching the cultural aspect. But Dosanjh carries Punjab with a spring in his step — not haunted by its history of violence and militancy. He emphasises its “softer” aspects — language, literature and tradition. That doesn’t mean he is divorced from its politics but points to a more playful messaging. As with his song ‘Riri’, which was released conveniently around the time Rihanna tweeted about the farmers’ agitation. That’s what makes Diljit a global favourite, his palatability and his attempts to not be weighed down by Punjab’s past. Instead, he uses it as a way to be nostalgic about the promise of a future.

The writer is a third-year student at Delhi University. She is currently interning at The Indian Express