What does the soundtrack in Satluj's CM assassination scene really mean?
The film's use of a hymn from Sri Guru Granth Sahib invites a wider discussion about context, interpretation and a practice that has become increasingly familiar in Sikh public life.
One sequence in Satluj deserves attention for reasons extending beyond filmmaking.
The movie uses a sacred hymn by Bhagat Kabir, "Gagan Damama Bajio", from Sri Guru Granth Sahib during the depiction of the 1995 assassination of the Punjab Chief Minister:
Professor Sahib Singh (1892–1977), whose exegesis remains one of the standard reference works on Sri Guru Granth Sahib, interprets the "Gagan Damama Bajio" verse primarily as a spiritual battle. Human life is the battlefield. The central contest is against inner vices.
Its placement in Satluj invites a broader question. Does a sacred hymn communicate the same meaning after it becomes part of a political assassination scene?
Last December, New Zealand MP Oriini Kaipara objected to the political use of the Mori haka during a confrontation involving a Sikh Nagar Kirtan in South Auckland.
"The misuse of haka in this context is deeply offensive. Haka is not a political too...,” she wrote in a Facebook post on December 22.
Her remarks centred on context. Sacred expressions derive meaning from the traditions that preserve them. Placement also influences interpretation.
Modern Sikh public life, however, offers different illustrations.
As a child, I listened to a celebrated Ragi Singh render Guru Arjan Dev's shabad:
Professor Sahib Singh explains this shabad as an inward reflection on a person separated from spiritual company. It deploys the imagery of cattle, attachment and the scarecrow for spiritual condition, not a contemporary public figure.
Back then, Punjab was passing through one of its most turbulent phases. The Ragi's exposition turned the scarecrow into an unmistakable reference to Giani Zail Singh. The congregation immediately understood the allusion. A spiritual metaphor had become commentary on current affairs.
That episode stayed with me. It showed how easily a sacred composition could acquire a political reference.
Over the past four or five decades, Gurbani has steadily entered Sikh public discourse.
Ragis, parcharaks, student leaders, activists and, more recently, social-media influencers have increasingly invoked verses from Sri Guru Granth Sahib to frame headline issues. The practice has become familiar enough to attract little reflection.
Recent examples illustrate the trend.
During the wrestlers' protest in Delhi, a wrestler metaphor from Guru Arjan Dev's vast bani was circulated widely:
Theologically, these lines describe spiritual elevation through the Guru’s guidance. Some Sikh commentators, however, adopted them as their online slogan around the wrestler's protest.
Last year, a student leader at Panjab University invoked the same Bhagat Kabir salok heard in Satluj.
The film has extended the pattern to cinema.
Many viewers may consider the use of "Gagan Damama" entirely appropriate because Gurbani has accompanied public movements for decades.
Others, particularly theologians, may disagree. That difference alone makes the creative choice worth examining.
The larger issue is what one generation normalises for the next.
A generation has grown up hearing Gurbani in political context, protest movements, ideological campaigns and now as a soundtrack in an assassination scene.
Every religious tradition eventually confronts the same question.
At what point does sacred language illuminate public life, and at what point does public causes begin to shape the way sacred language is understood?
Satluj has revived many debates about Punjab's past.
One of them should concern the place of Gurbani in Sikh life. That discussion has waited long enough. This film should finally begin it.
(The writer is a career journalist and Communications and Advocacy Director at UNITED SIKHS (UK), a charity registered in England and Wales)
One sequence in Satluj deserves attention for reasons extending beyond filmmaking.
The movie uses a sacred hymn by Bhagat Kabir, "Gagan Damama Bajio", from Sri Guru Granth Sahib during the depiction of the 1995 assassination of the Punjab Chief Minister:
Professor Sahib Singh (1892–1977), whose exegesis remains one of the standard reference works on Sri Guru Granth Sahib, interprets the "Gagan Damama Bajio" verse primarily as a spiritual battle. Human life is the battlefield. The central contest is against inner vices.
Its placement in Satluj invites a broader question. Does a sacred hymn communicate the same meaning after it becomes part of a political assassination scene?
Last December, New Zealand MP Oriini Kaipara objected to the political use of the Mori haka during a confrontation involving a Sikh Nagar Kirtan in South Auckland.
"The misuse of haka in this context is deeply offensive. Haka is not a political too...,” she wrote in a Facebook post on December 22.
Her remarks centred on context. Sacred expressions derive meaning from the traditions that preserve them. Placement also influences interpretation.
Modern Sikh public life, however, offers different illustrations.
As a child, I listened to a celebrated Ragi Singh render Guru Arjan Dev's shabad:
Professor Sahib Singh explains this shabad as an inward reflection on a person separated from spiritual company. It deploys the imagery of cattle, attachment and the scarecrow for spiritual condition, not a contemporary public figure.
Back then, Punjab was passing through one of its most turbulent phases. The Ragi's exposition turned the scarecrow into an unmistakable reference to Giani Zail Singh. The congregation immediately understood the allusion. A spiritual metaphor had become commentary on current affairs.
That episode stayed with me. It showed how easily a sacred composition could acquire a political reference.
Over the past four or five decades, Gurbani has steadily entered Sikh public discourse.
Ragis, parcharaks, student leaders, activists and, more recently, social-media influencers have increasingly invoked verses from Sri Guru Granth Sahib to frame headline issues. The practice has become familiar enough to attract little reflection.
Recent examples illustrate the trend.
During the wrestlers' protest in Delhi, a wrestler metaphor from Guru Arjan Dev's vast bani was circulated widely:
Theologically, these lines describe spiritual elevation through the Guru’s guidance. Some Sikh commentators, however, adopted them as their online slogan around the wrestler's protest.
Last year, a student leader at Panjab University invoked the same Bhagat Kabir salok heard in Satluj.
The film has extended the pattern to cinema.
Many viewers may consider the use of "Gagan Damama" entirely appropriate because Gurbani has accompanied public movements for decades.
Others, particularly theologians, may disagree. That difference alone makes the creative choice worth examining.
The larger issue is what one generation normalises for the next.
A generation has grown up hearing Gurbani in political context, protest movements, ideological campaigns and now as a soundtrack in an assassination scene.
Every religious tradition eventually confronts the same question.
At what point does sacred language illuminate public life, and at what point does public causes begin to shape the way sacred language is understood?
Satluj has revived many debates about Punjab's past.
One of them should concern the place of Gurbani in Sikh life. That discussion has waited long enough. This film should finally begin it.
(The writer is a career journalist and Communications and Advocacy Director at UNITED SIKHS (UK), a charity registered in England and Wales)
