Heer-Ranjha’s Ishq

The region of Punjab gave birth to four popular tragic romance tales, one of them being Heer-Ranjha. The most popular account of this epic tale is the prose written by Waris Shah in 1766, who immortalized Heer and Ranjha and in doing so became a household name and the most praised poet in the subcontinent. Heer is the most widely read and recited folk tale of Punjab; the fascinated minds have taken it upon them to uncover the reality of this tale and has led them to pursue PhD’s on the story.

The word Ishq embodies the authenticity and intensity of love and in poetic context Ishq elevates love to the more spiritual level.

Heer is documented as a courageous and daring beauty, born in a wealthy family. Ranjah, the youngest of four brothers leaves home after a dispute over distribution of the family land and travels as a lonesome soul playing his flute. On his travels he encounters a Mullah who does not allow him to spend the night in a Mosque saying that ‘lovers, insects, baggers and dogs are not allowed to enter the mosque’ during this debate one of Heer’s servants agrees to take Ranjha across the river to diffuse the situation. On the boat Ranjha sleeps on the comfortable couch decorated and reserved for Heer. When Heer comes to know that her couch has been defiled by some unknown traveler she rushes to the river side to scold and taunt Ranjha, but her anger evaporates as soon as she lays eyes on him. “Ah Waris, nothing can help when eyes meet on the battlefield of love!”

Heer offers Ranjha a job to take care of her cattle. Ranjha tells Heer that life is only a dream and she must abandon the pride of youth and beauty and be prepared to leave the world. Heer becomes mesmerized by Ranjha’s words and his melodious flute and falls in love with him. They meet secretly and until they were caught by Heer’s jealous uncle Qaido who conspires with her parents and Heer is forced to marry Khera. Brokenhearted Ranjha leaves to walk the face of earth until he meets a Jogi and voluntarily becomes an ascetic. Heer could not forget Ranjha and with the help of Khera’s sister she elopes with Ranjha. When Heer’s parents learned about the elopement they repented and asked Heer to return so they can arrange her wedding with Ranjha. The lovers return and on the wedding day, Qaido ( the uncle) poisoned Heer so the marriage could not take place and she was buried in Ranjha’s absence. Upon learning of Heer’s death, Ranjha grieves over his beloved’s grave and prays to be with her, miraculously the grave parted and Ranjha laid down beside his beloved Heer in their eternal sleep.

Tomb stone at Heer Ranjha's grave

Heer and Ranjha are buried in a Punjabi town in Pakistan called Jhang. Lovers and others often pay visits to their mausoleum and pray for offspring, love, happiness and prosperity. Some tie a strip of cloth to the iron bar above the entrance to remind Mai Heer [mother Heer] of their wish. Young girls also bring bangles in various colours and tie them to the wooden frame around the gave, asking God to help them with their love. One has to visit the mausoleum to witness the inner emotions pouring out and to see the wounds from shattered love, these visitors become lost in trance while making their wishes and telling Mai Heer of their ordeals.

Below is an account of Umair Ghani a traveller and photographer who writes of his visit to the Heer Ranjha’s mausoleum.
“A simple man, Syed Abid looked at me with gloomy eyes, “Is God not a lover?” he said, “Is universe not created out of love? Ishq has uncountable colors and forms. Is everything not Ishq?” I agreed. Ishq was everything, it was everywhere. “Can my love for a woman lead me to God?” I asked. “Sure it can! But only if it is true. Ishq is always divine in its essence. If you enter the realm of Ishq, sure it will lead to unknown dimensions. I’ve seen people coming here everyday for many years now. Few of them are true and commit to be burnt, bruised, tortured, and tested by their love. Very few, I assure you!”

Inside the mausoleum

A few paces away the young girl sat curled up with her head against marble slab of the grave. She had stopped sobbing somewhere in the middle of caretaker’s narration of Heer-Ranjha’s tale. But her eyes were still soaked with silent tears flowing down across her neckline. She kept staring blankly into something unseen.“I searched for faithfulness everywhere”, her choked voice echoed inside the tomb, “I was betrayed. I come to tell mother Heer . Only she can understand!”With my back resting against the tiled wall I witnessed everything.A bare-footed old woman walked in. Went to the grave and kissed it affectionately. Wrinkles filled her face like deep trenches on dry land. She performed some secret ritual by closing her eyes and clasping her hands for several minutes. Then like a whirling wind she began to dance in the tomb. Her bare feet struck the floor with a loud thud, providing beat for her dance. But I could see that the rhythm was from within, not from without.“Two bodies in one grave but body is nothing”, she talked as she danced. “Soul is everything. Soul is dance. I am a soul and I will dance!” Another loud thud and another swirl within her soul and another thud of the feet and so on. “Only two bodies are here!”“And where are their souls?” I asked.“Their souls have become Ishq and spread everywhere!”“Why do you take my photos?”“I am trying to capture Heer-Ranjha’s soul.”“I know where you can find it” she said with a mysterious smile. “I am Mai Saleem, from the family of Heer [her maternal grand parents]”. She dropped down her dopata and threw her thin hair in the wind. “Look! The women in our family never tie their hair.”“Ishq is God!” She said and whirled around like a feather in the wind. Only a woman could know better, I though. Annemarie Schimmel [professor of Indo Muslim culture at Harvard University] in her book “My Soul is a Woman: The Feminine in Islam” describes the spiritual experience of a woman’s love, “Women setting out on a long journey during the course of which they are separated from the world more and more everyday until their entire being is transformed into their lovers.” "


Waris Shah’s Heer is a long prose consisting of around 630 stansaz with 6-12 lines each. In the rural Punjab the prose is read and acted out in evening gatherings of the village elders. A you-tube performance of a Sain reciting the Heer can be seen below. These Sains/Jogis/Ashiqs can be found near the Heer Ranjha’s mausoleum among other parts of Punjab. This man sings Heer with an extreme pain and anguish in his voice, he might seem to be under the influence of toxic substances but he’s merely in a trance.