Dewan Singh Kalepani

Dewan Singh Kalepani, (1894-1944), a doctor by profession, a revolutionary by choice, was among the early Punjabi poets who followed Bhai Vir Singh, harbinger of the Renaissance in Punjabi literature. He acquired the pseudonym 'Kalepani', when he was transferred on duty to the Andamans (Known as Kalapani, literally, black waters) for his participation in the Non-Cooperation Movement. Well read in Western literature, he was greatly influenced by Walt Whitman. Following him and Puran Singh, another pioneer, he took to writing romantic, satirical, free verse. Wagde Pani (Flowing Waters, 1938) was his first collection, Antim Lehran (Last Tides) the second was published posthumously in 1962. His poetry has an intellectual quality.
The poem Haneri (Storm) taken from Wagde Pani describes the gathering of a storm which will wholly sweep away the present order.

The Storm

A storm is raging, raging
Pitch dark, rapid, swift
The atmosphere will thicken like night,

Swallowing the sun, the moon, the stars
All our efforts to dispel darkness, frustrated.
A storm is raging, raging
Nothing like it has ever visited the earth.

A storm is raging, raging
Of revolution, destruction, displacement.
Everything will turn topsy tuny, invisible.
No one will recognize the other
All values will be transformed wholly.

Fruit, flower, branch or stem
Nothing will remain
Tents, huts, shacks will be flung away.
Birds, humans, tigers, elephants

Will fly or fall down or break up or crumble.
The earth will split, the stars will fall,
The planets collide with one another.
The seas will exchange places with mountains.
The earth will be smashed into bits,
A new canopy of dust will cover the sky.

A storm is raging, raging
Today, tomorrow and the day after
None can stand in its way.

He who resists, will crumble down.
He who tarries, will flee.
He who stands up, will fall down.
This world of ours,
The product of our hard toil,
will vanish.
The structure of our civilization,
built with great hardships
will be reduced to rubble.
This wealth of ours,
earned with great labour,
will melt into the thin air.
The scripts of learning, the pillars of knowledge
The snares of philosophy, the labyrinths of cogitation
The skeletons of religion, the obsession with history
The palaces of kings, the boundaries of kingdoms
The problems of behaviour, the puzzles of probity
The pans of morality, the lids of customs
The portfolios of policy, the conflicts of societies
All will collapse, leaving behind no trace.

The leveller will flatten everything
Bounds, borders, walls, hedges-
All will be levelled down.
The rock will be levelled into a table-land
denuded drastically
curtains, lids, coverings will fly away
Cloaks, veils will all be lifted up.
The marriage processions will not proceed, nor will there
be any gatherings,
There would be no condolences, no marriage ceremonies,
The mourners will depart, the death anniversaries will die.
Goodwills will go, reforms rejected,
Customs, conventions, traditions-
All wiped out.

Yes, the storm is raging with full velocity
Chinks, gaps, recesses, niches, hanging-baskets, lofts-
All will expand and swell.
The covered up filth, the concealed dirt-
All will stand revealed.
Roofs, tents, tepees will be torn into shreds
Retreats, barracks, dwellings, abodes-
All lose their life
Those in search of help, will die as cripples.
By virtue of inner strength, will survive,
Only a green plant or two, here and there !                         Haneri (1938)