Boli Hai Punjabi Saadi — A Poem by Dhani Ram Chatrik
punjabi poetry · dhani ram chatrik · maa boli · punjabi culture
Boli Hai Punjabi Saadi (ਬੋਲੀ ਹੈ ਪੰਜਾਬੀ ਸਾਡੀ — “Punjabi is our language”) is a short, defiant love poem to the Punjabi language by Dhani Ram Chatrik, one of the pioneers of modern Punjabi poetry. In four compact stanzas it makes a promise that generations of Punjabis — especially those raising children far from Punjab — still recognise as their own: we will not forget our mother tongue.
Below you will find the poem exactly as published, with transliteration, a stanza-by-stanza explanation, and a little background on the remarkable man who wrote it.
Who was Dhani Ram Chatrik?
Dhani Ram Chatrik (ਧਨੀ ਰਾਮ ਚਾਤ੍ਰਿਕ, 4 October 1876 – 18 December 1954) is widely regarded as one of the founding figures of modern Punjabi poetry. Where earlier Punjabi verse lived mostly in the qissa and spiritual traditions, Chatrik wrote about the land and people in front of him — the fields, fairs, seasons, and speech of Punjab — in a voice that felt contemporary and proudly Punjabi.
He was also, unusually for a poet, a typographer. Chatrik spent decades in the printing trade in Amritsar and played a key role in refining and standardising Gurmukhi type, which helped Punjabi books and newspapers flourish in print. In other words, he did not just write in praise of the ਮਾਂ ਬੋਲੀ (maa boli — mother tongue); he physically helped build the machinery that carried it into the modern age. If you are curious about the script he championed, our Gurmukhi alphabet guide is a gentle place to start.
Chatrik died in 1954, and his work — including this poem — now belongs to all of us.
The poem: ਬੋਲੀ ਹੈ ਪੰਜਾਬੀ ਸਾਡੀ (Boli Hai Punjabi Saadi)
The verses below are reproduced exactly as published, with the transliteration alongside each line.
ਅਸਾਂ ਨਹੀਂ ਭੁਲਾਉਣੀ, ਬੋਲੀ ਹੈ ਪੰਜਾਬੀ ਸਾਡੀ
Asaan Nahi Bhulaauni, Boli Hai Punjabi Saadi
ਏਹੋ ਜਿੰਦ ਜਾਨ ਸਾਡੀ,
Eho Jind Jaan Saadi,ਮੋਤੀਆਂ ਦੀ ਖਾਨ ਸਾਡੀ,
Motiyan di khaan saadi,ਹੱਥੋਂ ਨਹੀਂ ਗੁਆਉਣੀ, ਬੋਲੀ ਹੈ ਪੰਜਾਬੀ ਸਾਡੀ ।
Hatthon nahi guaaonni, boli hai Punjabi saadi.
ਤ੍ਰਿੰਞਣਾਂ ਭੰਡਾਰਾਂ ਵਿਚ,
Tarinjnaa Bhandaraan vich,ਵੰਝਲੀ ਤੇ ਵਾਰਾਂ ਵਿਚ,
Vanjali te Vaaran vich,ਮਿੱਠੀ ਤੇ ਸੁਹਾਉਣੀ, ਬੋਲੀ ਹੈ ਪੰਜਾਬੀ ਸਾਡੀ ।
Mithhi te Suhaonni, Boli hai Punjabi saadi.
ਜੋਧ ਤੇ ਕਮਾਈਆਂ ਵਿਚ,
Jodh te kamaayian vich,ਜੰਗਾਂ ਤੇ ਲੜਾਈਆਂ ਵਿਚ,
Jangaa te ladaaiyan vich,ਏਹੋ ਜਿੰਦ ਪਾਉਣੀ, ਬੋਲੀ ਹੈ ਪੰਜਾਬੀ ਸਾਡੀ ।
Eho jind paaunni, boli hai Punjabi saadi.
ਫੁਲਾਂ ਦੀ ਕਿਆਰੀ ਸਾਡੀ,
Fullaan di keyaari saadi,ਸੁਖਾਂ ਦੀ ਅਟਾਰੀ ਸਾਡੀ,
Sukhaan di attari saadi,ਭੁਲ ਕੇ ਨਹੀਂ ਢਾਉਣੀ, ਬੋਲੀ ਹੈ ਪੰਜਾਬੀ ਸਾਡੀ ।
Bhull ke nahi dhaaunni, boli hai Punjabi saadi.
What does each stanza mean?
The refrain — “We will not forget it; Punjabi is our language.” The opening line, ਅਸਾਂ ਨਹੀਂ ਭੁਲਾਉਣੀ (asaan nahi bhulaauni — we will not let it be forgotten), sets the whole poem up as a vow rather than a description. Chatrik is not observing that Punjabi exists; he is promising, on behalf of all of us, that it will keep existing.
Stanza one — the language as life itself. ਏਹੋ ਜਿੰਦ ਜਾਨ ਸਾਡੀ (eho jind jaan saadi) means “this very language is our life and soul,” and ਮੋਤੀਆਂ ਦੀ ਖਾਨ (motiyan di khaan) calls it “a mine of pearls” — a treasury of riches. The stanza closes with ਹੱਥੋਂ ਨਹੀਂ ਗੁਆਉਣੀ (hatthon nahi guaaonni): we will not let it slip from our hands. The image is physical and urgent — a language is something you can drop, and something you can hold on to.
Stanza two — the language of everyday joy. ਤ੍ਰਿੰਞਣ (trinjan) refers to the traditional gatherings where women spun cotton together, singing as they worked; ਵੰਝਲੀ (vanjali) is the flute of the Punjabi countryside, forever associated with Ranjha; and ਵਾਰਾਂ (vaaran) are the heroic ballads sung by bards. Chatrik’s point: Punjabi is not a museum piece. It lives in work songs, folk music, and storytelling, and there it is ਮਿੱਠੀ ਤੇ ਸੁਹਾਉਣੀ (mitthi te suhaonni) — sweet and beautiful.
Stanza three — the language of courage. From the spinning circle, the poem turns to the battlefield. In deeds of valour (ਜੋਧ ਤੇ ਕਮਾਈਆਂ — jodh te kamaayian) and in wars and struggles (ਜੰਗਾਂ ਤੇ ਲੜਾਈਆਂ — jangaan te ladaaiyan), it is this language that puts life into people — ਏਹੋ ਜਿੰਦ ਪਾਉਣੀ (eho jind paaunni). Punjabi, in Chatrik’s telling, is what Punjabis sing when they celebrate and what they cry out when they fight.
Stanza four — the language as home. The final stanza softens into domestic images: ਫੁਲਾਂ ਦੀ ਕਿਆਰੀ (fullaan di kiaari) — our flowerbed — and ਸੁਖਾਂ ਦੀ ਅਟਾਰੀ (sukhaan di attari) — our attic, or upper chamber, of comforts. Then comes the poem’s most tender warning: ਭੁਲ ਕੇ ਨਹੀਂ ਢਾਉਣੀ (bhull ke nahi dhaaunni) — we must not, even by mistake, tear it down. Losing a language rarely happens on purpose. Chatrik saw that a century ago: neglect, not malice, is what demolishes the flowerbed.
Why does this poem resonate with the diaspora?
Chatrik wrote in a Punjab where Punjabi was fighting for status against Urdu, English, and the prestige languages of administration. Swap the setting for Birmingham, Brampton, or the Bay Area, and the poem barely needs updating. The pressure on the ਮਾਂ ਬੋਲੀ today is school runs and screens in English, grandparents on the other end of a video call, and children who understand but answer back in English.
That is why the refrain lands so hard for second- and third-generation Punjabis: ਅਸਾਂ ਨਹੀਂ ਭੁਲਾਉਣੀ is exactly the promise many of us are quietly trying to keep. The poem also offers a genuinely useful way to think about the task. Chatrik does not guilt-trip; he inventories what the language carries — songs, stories, courage, comfort, home — and lets you feel the size of what would be lost. Forgetting Punjabi would not just mean losing words. It would mean losing the trinjan songs, the vaaran, the jokes, the blessings, the particular sweetness the poem calls mitthi te suhaonni.
Reading the poem aloud, even haltingly, is itself a small act of keeping the vow. If you want to build up to reading it fluently in Gurmukhi, start with our Gurmukhi alphabet guide, and explore the wider Learn Punjabi hub for a full path from first letters to full sentences.
Start today
The best tribute to Chatrik is not framing his poem — it is speaking his language. If you want a structured, joyful way to do that, the PunjabiCharm app teaches Punjabi in bite-size lessons with native audio, built by and for the diaspora. It has 500,000+ downloads and a 4.6-star rating across 4,000+ reviews. Keep the promise of the poem — download the app and begin today.
