In the tumultuous landscape of Punjab’s strife-ridden 1980s, a musical maverick emerged: Amar Singh Chamkila, the Dalit folk sensation. His melodies cast a spell on audiences far and wide, while his bold lyrics shattered societal barriers. With raw talent and unwavering audacity, Chamkila soared to stardom across Punjab’s heartlands.

Yet, tragedy struck with his assassination, leaving behind a legacy shrouded in mystery and fascination. Now, as filmmaker Imtiaz Ali unveils plans for a biopic, the legend of Chamkila reverberates louder than ever, echoing through the annals of music history.

Who was Amar Singh Chamkila?

Chamkila was a renowned Dalit Punjabi singer, songwriter, and musician born on July 21, 1960, in the village of Dugri near Ludhiana.

Originally named Dhani Ram, he worked as a labourer to support his family. Despite this, his passion for music led him to join theatre groups, where he mastered the harmonium and tumbi by the age of 16.

Chamkila’s musical journey

Chamkila began his musical career by performing at local events and weddings. He rose to prominence in the 1980s with his unique style of music, which blended traditional Punjabi folk with modern influences, earning him the title of Punjabi music’s ‘Wild Child’.

A major turning point came when well-known folk singer Shinda, with whom Chamkila had teamed up, toured Canada in the early 1980s. They recorded four songs together with Shinda’s partner, Sonia, which propelled Dhani Ram into stardom, and thus he became ‘Chamkila’.

His raw and unfiltered lyrics often addressed social issues, love, and the struggles of everyday life, resonating deeply with audiences across Punjab.

Alongside his musical partner and wife, Amarjot Kaur, Chamkila released numerous hit albums, including ‘Takue Te Takua’ and ‘Mele Mitran De’.

Chamkila’s collaboration with Amarjot

The music label released another tape titled ‘Baapu Saada Gum Ho Gaya’, featuring the duo of Chamkila and Sonia, Shinda’s duet partner. Their talent and style resonated with audiences, leading to high demand for their performances at weddings and other events.

However, despite their shared success, Chamkila was paid only ~200 per performance, while Sonia received ~600. This inequality in salary ultimately led Sonia to part ways with Chamkila after the latter demanded equal pay.

After separating from Sonia, Chamkila soon teamed up with Amarjot Kaur, a gifted vocalist who had been making a name for herself through her collaboration with Kuldeep Manak.

Their partnership represented a pivotal moment in Punjabi music. Their first LP record, ‘Bhul Gayi Main Ghund Kadna’, introduced an unforgettable song titled ‘Pahile Lalkare Naal Main Darr Gayi’.

Chamkila’s partnerships with Sonia and Amarjot led to the production of an impressive catalogue of 99 songs, cutting across various genres and thus creating a profound influence within the realm of Punjabi music.

What were Chamkila’s controversies?

Despite his rising fame, Chamkila’s career was marred by controversy. His lyrics, characterised by their bold and provocative nature, often sparked debates and criticism from conservative elements within society.

Additionally, Chamkila’s personal life was also the subject of much speculation and gossip. He was allegedly known for his relationships with multiple women.

Already married to Gurdial Kaur, with whom he had two daughters, Chamkila developed an affection for Amarjot, an upper-caste woman. Despite significant outcry, the couple eventually married and went on to have two sons.

Why was Chamkila killed?

Chamkila’s life was cut short at the age of 27 when he and his wife Amarjot were assassinated by unknown assailants in 1988 while travelling to perform in Mehsampur, Punjab. The motive behind their murders remains unclear, and their deaths sent shockwaves throughout the Punjabi music industry.

Parallels with the Sidhu Moosewala killing

When popular Punjabi rapper Sidhu Moosewala was gunned down in 2022, comparisons quickly emerged, drawing parallels between his death and that of Chamkila and Amarjot. Yet, a crucial distinction was overlooked: the historical context and the distinct musical landscapes in which they operated.

Chamkila peaked in a decade marked by the notions of masculinity, purity, and morality in the context of a militant nationalism espoused in riot-ridden Punjab, where the Khalistan sentiment was at its peak.

Amarjot and Chamkila performed as singers in akharas, an old tradition of open-air fields for live, outdoor musical performances in Punjab, where they sang about themes of love, bravery, and contemporary issues.

Their songs often featured references to trucks and truck drivers, which made them relatable and popular among Punjab’s working class. And for the same reason, they never attained recognition among the elite aficionados of Punjabi music.

Their music was rich with sensual imagery and hinted at taboo relationships such as between brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law or between fathers-in-law and daughters-in-law. These themes pushed the boundaries of acceptability within the patriarchal and feudal society of the time but also reflected the lived social experiences of many. And then there was Chamkila, a Dalit, tying the knot with Amarjot, an upper caste.

These various forms of transgression didn’t align with the narrative of the idealised Punjab nation-state, which envisioned ‘pure’ and ‘chaste’ men and women.

Coming to Moosewala, the time and context had changed a lot.

In post-liberalised Punjab, the upper-caste youth, which was under-trained for the fast-emerging private sector in the country, sought greener pastures abroad.

In the process of reaching there, the horrors experienced by them translated into aggressive displays of masculinity and caste pride within a music genre that glorified and revered violence.

Moosewala rose as the icon of this musical narrative, captivating not just the local crowd but also resonating with the nostalgic Punjabi diaspora scattered worldwide.

Thus, even though the broad contours of the killings remain similar in terms of masculinity, the advent of publicised gun culture through social media and the flex of power through a show of fancy cars mark the Moosewala era.

Chamkila’s lyrics made the rich uncomfortable. Moosewala espoused a revenge-like feeling from youngsters, or at best a ‘Nirvana’-like fight against authority.

The killings were similar, but the reasons were very different.