I’ve been away from home for more than three months now and I’d never imagined I’d feel the things I’m feeling now.

Parents are your roots, you know. They are your true one and only.
I always fancied the idea of romance and I thought I wanted my life to be about love and I wanted to love this way and that way, do certain things, and love beyond love and all those things. And I’ve realized that if you manage to do all these things, and even greater things (if you have anything in mind), it’s all just.. ashes if you don’t have your true one and only.

Lovers and friends come and go.
True love comes around, very rarely. And if you have to be very very lucky to keep it.
But family?
The constant of life and the universe can reside in those two humans.

I’m not embarrassed to admit that I’ve wanted to get married for the longest time. The longest.

And now that I’m away from home, and maybe a few years from now I’ll marry someone and have a family of mine, become their anchor, what will become of my constants then?

The fear grips me on some days and I run home. I run home despite every other thing in life. We have so little time to be doing anything else, but loving. Yes?

Madhaniya just makes me sit still and wonder. About my parents, about love, about my brother, about leaving home to start another, and everything in between. Each time.

So beautiful and so painful, isn’t it?

Isn’t it?

Listen to this beautiful rendition of this folk Punjabi song by Neha Bhasin. I’ve not been able to get over this song and it’s been a while. A while.


The word ‘Madhaniya’ means a milk churn.

This song is about everything a girl remembers when she leaves home.

The insignificantly insignificant things.
The blindingly ordinary ones.

Here’s my interpretation of it:



Haye ve mereya dadya rabba
Kinna jamiya, kinane lae jaaniya haye

Oh lord, the Almighty.. Look at how
I’m born to someone
And someone else will take me away now

She remembers the way chickpeas are cooked at home. Her mom’s recipe. Possibly her favourite.

Babul tere mehala vicho satrangiya kabutar bole haye
Father, look. As I’m ready to fly away, the rainbow pigeons are singing

Ever so slowly.

Babul tere mehala vicho teri lado pardesan hoi haye
Dear father.. In her own home, soon your beloved daughter will become a stranger

She was made to.

Mere apne vira ne dola tor ke aga nu keeta hai.
My own brothers who I laughed and played with
Will be the ones softly carrying my palanquin.. Bidding my farewell.


The lanes..

Maawan thiyan milan lagiyaan chare kandha ne chaubaare diya haliyaan hai
I remember embracing my mother and felt the entire four walls of the house shaking
Like my entire home was.. weeping.


2 thoughts on “Madhaniya

Add yours

  1. Homesick – I never liked this word. It portrayed the right feelings, but not in the right way. Homethirst, homelonging; I often try to come up with synonyms. It’ll take a while.

    Parents, can’t decipher them. They are human, but the role they play in life, it is phenomenal. They are the living epitome of unconditional love. We have the four romances of Punjab, then Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliette, not forgetting the tear-jerking Bollywood movies, to have a chance at experiencing love, and building the expectations with it. But the love that a mother has for a newborn when she holds him/her for the first time, is ineffable.

    Leaving, is natural, or it has become. Whether it is leaving home or our very own lives, we’ve grown comfortable with this notion. Life, a journey or a collection of some ephemeral moments, everyone has their own definitions. But I’m yet to grasp the leaving which occurs for a woman after marriage. I’ve tried and I’m trying. Still, long way it is.


  2. I really like how you’ve called homesickness homelonging/homethirst. But it makes me wonder why ‘sickness’ was used in the first place. Probably because home is where we belong. And if we’re away for too long, it’s pretty much like having an illness that won’t go and the cure’s only covering that distance. Though this home can be your home home, or a place, or a person. Beautiful, isn’t it?

    Leaving is natural. Beautifully put. I believe it. I loathe the reality, though. People shouldn’t go. Friendships shouldn’t fade away. True love should be such that it could be kept.
    None of it ever does, does it?

    But maybe, just maybe, it does stay. In parts and pieces and in you. Maybe.


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