The Song of Distant Bulbuls

by Simrita Dhir

In the autumn of 1939, seventeen-year-old Sammi, has been married for a mere twenty-one days, when her husband, Hari Singh, an officer in the British Indian Army, is summoned to fight in the Second World War. The deeply-in-love couple bid each other goodbye. Sammi awaits Hari Singh’s return in her village, Aliwala, a syncretic hamlet with Sufi bearings in the hinterland of Punjab.

It is now 1946. The Second World War has ended, but there is no word of Hari Singh, who has been gone for nearly seven years. Caught between her two feuding brothers, Jasjit and Kirpal, the now twenty-three-year-old Sammi, perseveres in the face of the uncertainty that looms over her.

As a determined India makes a concerted bid for freedom from the British, Jasjit worries for his sister, Sammi’s mounting agony and the rising Indian National Movement converging in his mind. Also weighing upon him is the lament that Indian Independence will sever age-old communal bonds and separate him from his brother-like friend Zulfi Sheikh.

In the changing political scenario, Kirpal seeks desperately to solidify his personal and social standing by coercing Sammi to marry his boyhood friend, the influential Bachan Singh.

Will Sammi be forced into a second marriage with Bachan Singh? Or will she muster the courage to step out of the narrow alleys of Aliwala in search of a new life?

Inspired by true events, 'The Song of Distant Bulbuls' is a moving saga of immutable love and deep friendships, human bonding and failing, set in a singularly turbulent time in world history. Spanning rural Punjab, the Princely City of Patiala and the Southeast Asian Theatre of the Second World War, the novel poses epic questions: is happiness an elusive goal? How does one know right from wrong? Is love the ultimate aim of human life or a means to something else? What does it take to realize who one truly loves and how much?

334 pages, Paperback

Published July 20, 2023

About the author

Simrita Dhir is an academic and novelist. She is a Duke of Edinburgh Gold Standard Awardee. She lectures on writing at the University of California, San Diego, and is the author of the novels 'The Rainbow Acres' and 'The Song of Distant Bulbuls'. Readers may connect with her on:
Facebook @ The Song of Distant Bulbuls
Instagram@ simrita_dhir

Reviews

[Madhulika Liddle · Rating 4 out of 5]

Punjab, 1946. In a village called Aliwala, twenty-three-year-old Sammi has been waiting the past seven years, for her husband Hari Singh, an officer in the British Indian Army, who was called away to the Front just twenty-one days after their wedding. The war has now ended, but there is no sign of her husband; and while Sammi is steadfast in her belief that Hari Singh is alive and coming home to her, there are others around her who are getting restive and eager to have her remarry…

The Song of Distant Bulbuls has a gentle, leisurely pace, a quietly introspective mood. No, not draggy, at any point; in fact, it’s very interesting. The plot is a simple one, but what really stands out here is the characterization. Sammi, her parents (quiet, wise Bapuji; sharp-tongued Bibi), her brothers (hot-headed, impulsive Kirpal, studious and more progressive Jasjit, studying for the ICS) and their aunt Jeeti Bhua: each of these, as well as secondary characters like Zulfi and Nafisa, are beautifully nuanced, their dreams and ambitions real, their triumphs and sorrows easy to relate to.

The other thing that really stood out for me was the depiction of a Punjabi village in mid-20th century India: very vivid, very real.

By the time I was nearing the end, I was wondering how the author would work in the Partition—she didn’t seem to have left herself much room to do that (and how can you not talk about Partition in a book set in 1946 Punjab? A book, too, that has Sikhs and Muslims as major characters?)

But no, Dhir steers clear of the temptation to take the book up to Partition; she stops a year short, though there is sufficient conversation about the possibility of it, the increasingly strident demands from the Muslim League for Pakistan. Independence and partition are both on the horizon, and it shows; but you are left wondering, at the end of the story, what happened to these people, whom you’ve grown to know so well, when the Radcliffe Line was finally drawn and violence began to escalate.

A sequel would be very welcome.

(A longer and more detailed review here, at my blog: https://madhulikareads.wordpress.com/...)

[Rupinder S. · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Song of Distant Bulbuls by Simrita Dhir—A Review by Rupinder S. Brar


Radha Kapuria, a scholar at Durham University recently rebutted a lament by another academic and singer, Dr. Madan Gopal Singh, that Punjabis do not celebrate their rivers in stories, song and folklore the way some other Indians, like the Bengalis, do. In her essay titled, ‘Singing the River in Punjab: Poetry, Performance and Folklore’, she writes that far from being forgotten, the rivers remain ubiquitous, even omnipresent in popular Punjabi imagination, thanks to Punjabi singers and performers, poets and writers, who have elevated their rivers far above the mythical and sacred by transforming them into metaphors for powerful human emotions.

In light of that argument, Simrita Dhir, a young academic from UC San Diego, makes a strong case favoring the former with her second novel, The Song of Distant Bulbuls. It is a poignant love story set on the banks of river Ghaggar, a diminutive stream running through the vast arid region bound by two mighty river systems, the Ganga-Jamuna to its east and the Sutlej-Indus on the west.

In Dhir’s narrative, the little-known rivulet itself becomes a metaphor for what may seem small and ordinary about Punjab and Punjabiyat at first glance, but in actuality, is all powerful and extraordinary. Not surprisingly, her twin themes, that of love and longing on one hand and separation and remembrance on the other, happen to be two of the most celebrated ones in Punjabi culture and literature.

The story revolves around twenty-three old Sammi, a quintessential Punjabi heroine—strong, unpretentious, and hauntingly beautiful. Though married, she lives with her parents, paternal aunt, and two very protective brothers because her husband, Hari Singh, an officer in the British Indian Army, was summoned to fight in the Second World War soon after their marriage and has been gone for nearly seven years.

Theirs is a typical rural household and life is near idyllic except for the everyday tussle between nostalgia on one hand and the pragmatic need to move along on the other, something that has divided the family members into two opposing camps. On one side is Sammi, holding steadfastly to the memory of the 21 days that she spent with Hari Singh after their marriage, and the seven emotionally charged letters that he wrote her from the front. She is supported by her eldest sibling, Jasjit, a sensitive man with a heartache of his own, who is away at Patiala, studying for the Indian Civil Service exam.

Pitted against them are Saami’s other brother Kirpal, and their domineering mother, Bibi. Kirpal is a prototypical Jat Sikh man—bold, enterprising, and brash. Above all, he is clinically practical, whether hankering after new farmlands in far flung Rajputana or looking to cut his family’s losses and find another husband for his abandoned sister. Bibi is deadly sick, but still strong and manipulative to use her sickness to promote Kirpal’s argument that seven years of waiting is long enough, therefore Saami should be married off to Kirpal’s rich friend and benefactor, Bachan Singh.

Though both sides are equally passionate about their respective stances, there are no villains here. Faith is a force for good. Zulfi is a poor Muslim blacksmith, yet his friendship with Jasjit transcends socio-economic, cultural, and religious barriers. Similarly, Hari Singh harks back to his Sikh ethos to seek sustenance during the most devastating war in human history. Even the anti-hero, Bachan Singh, has an honorable streak. He seeks forgiveness for committing bae adbi, insolence, immediately after inopportunely declaring his undying love for Saami. “I will wait for you,” he blurts out in remorse, “and never force myself on you.” The real culprits are time, separation, and uncertainty, three villains that must be overcome through patience, sufiana love, and unwavering faith.

If there is one flaw in the novel, it is that at times, the pace seems to stall, for Dhir coerces the reader to pay attention to every scene in its minutest detail, but then it is this very quality that gives her narration a dreamlike nature. Her descriptions of the Punjabi countryside—not only its layout, but its seasons, scents, foliage, and trees are poetic in quality, reminiscent of the great works of Punjabi literature, from Waris Shah’s Heer to Guru Nanak’s Barah Maha. Moreover, Dhir not only describes the characters’ emotions and experiences, but also ties them subtly and beautifully to the surroundings, especially the river Ghaggar, ‘an intermittent’ stream in her words that is almost always overlooked in comparison to the famous five rivers of Punjab—Sutlej, Beas, Ravi, Jhelum, and Chenab.

The novel presents a metaphor for people and things at risk of being overlooked and forgotten. It is set in Aliwala, a small village located in the backwaters of the Malwa region of Punjab—itself a marginal locus in popular Punjabi psyche and literature. It showcases the everyday life under the princely state of Patiala, and the Indian and Sikh contributions towards the allied victory in the Second World War. Finally, it pays homage to the steep price paid by the far too often forgotten women on the home front.

The book is thus an important contribution to South Asian English literature by a Punjabi author, highlighting the Punjab that once was—kind, gentle, fraternal, stoic, but above all—good. It is this last quality—goodness—alluded to frequently and unapologetically throughout the novel, that has the potential to leave the reader feeling warm and nostalgic about an uncomplicated time and place, which once was.

[Bindiya Vishavkarma · Rating 5 out of 5]

A Mosaic of Human Emotions in Tumultuous Times
By Dr. Bindya Rani

Simrita Dhir, The Song of Distant Bulbuls. New Delhi: Speaking Tiger Books LLP, 2023. Pages 333, Rs. 499.


Naash ke dukh se kabhee
Dabataa naheen nirmaan kaa sukh
Pralaya ki Nistbdhataa se
Srishti ka nav gaan phir-phir
Need ka nirmaan phir-phir
Neh ka aahvaan phir-phir.
[Never does the pain of destruction
Defeat the joy of creation
Again and again the cataclysmic silence
precedes the new song of Nature
Again and again the cradle is resurrected
Again and again love is summoned]
(Harivansh Rai Bachchan 1970)
Drawn against the backdrop of changing seasons and the gushing wind of change engulfing a nation fighting for her freedom, Simrita Dhir’s The Song of Distant Bulbuls is an avowal of hope, trust and courage. Here, nature is more than a metaphor: a living, breathing spirit that not only enthuses the myriad moods in the milieu but also supplies harbingers for the impending change at various levels. The sowing and the waiting, the fruition and the maturing of human emotions and the crops intertwine as nature manifests its power of sustaining from one season to another in all its unpredictability and rawness.

Set in the hinterlands of Punjab, the novel paints a vivid picture of a small village named Aliwala, sitting on the banks of the river Ghaggar in the Malwa region. The year 1946, the unsettling times of the Second World War leave Sammi, the female protagonist, forsaken as she proclaims to wait on her separated husband till she breaths her last and matches in her fidelity with the Heer from Waris Shah’s Heer, which is sung in Punjab till day. Hari Singh, Sammi’s husband leaves to fight for the British Indian Army after twenty-one days of their marriage and remains lost well after the war has ended. As Sammi’s Bapuji and Bibi lose hope, her brother Kirpal becomes desperate to resettle her with his friend Bachan Singh, her eldest brother Jasjit becomes doubtful about her future and her paternal aunt Jeeti Bhua also concedes to the unanimous decision of remarrying Sammi, Sammi remains unwavering in her decision.

While offering an unapologetic insight into the lives of her female protagonists, Dhir never tries to hide the practice of making the female body an agency for carrying and preserving the family’s “honour.” Bapuji’s intentions are pure and his words never minced when he passionately muses: “A daughter is the soul of a family. Sometimes, an impulsive act turns out to be one too much for a lifetime. It can irreversibly tear apart a family.” Sammi carries these words through her “precarious teenage” years to ensure her family’s happiness because one mistake on the part of adolescent Jeeti Bhua had made her live a life of stoic rejection.

Far from mundane, Dhir’s characters weave a tapestry of the intricacies of human relationships where a Muslim friend Zulfi becomes more than a brother; where a sick, dying hitherto manipulating mother eventually puts a seal on her daughter’s decision; where a brother can lay a plot for his sister’s absconding to save her from an unwanted marriage; where another brother smiles through his tears after knowing that his sister’s husband is alive. He is the same brother who wanted to marry her off to another man because he could not bear to see his young sister abandoned and lonely.

Hailing from a family of farmers, Dhir has an unequivocal cognizance of a farmer’s relation with land and all that abounds it. As conventional as he is in his outlook, Bapuji a protector and a nurturer, sticks to the old adage of keeping “zan, zameen and zewar” in close proximity. Whereas, Kirpal marvels at the opportunities of tilling the land in Rajputana and Uttar Pradesh. Despite receiving higher education in the city, Jasjit is connected to his roots and reminiscences of his family celebrating the harvest festival of Lohri while he is away preparing for the ICS exam. Bibi takes pride in being the only landowning female in the area. Hari Singh is the son of a farmer from the village Kishanpur and even after joining the British Army he keeps the sights and sounds of his village alive in his heart. This is the song of the Bulbuls that he and Sammi enjoyed in the rosewood grove on the outskirts of his village which makes them inseparable.

Dhir’s well-honed narrative skills coupled with the spontaneous recitations from Farid and other Sufi kalams, Zulfi’s love song on Vaisakhi while he played on his accordion, the song of the gypsy girls during the Teej carnival portray nostalgia of a “simpler” life. Her canvas paints a quintessential version of the then-rural Punjab rooted in fidelity, constancy and ethic upholding the Sikh ethos of valour and courage. Hinging upon these ethics and ethos, a young, beautiful, vivacious lass reunites with her brave, handsome and compassionate husband as India awaits waking up to a new dawn. The much-awaited, delayed monsoon rain embraces the parched land as Sammi soaks in the news of her husband’s homecoming.

The novel intertwines a picturesque rustic life of the unsung plebians with their myriad struggles amid the historical upheavals at the national and the international level. Simrita Dhir’s artistic brilliance resides in combining the strands of the local, the national and the global in such a manner that none overpowers the other.

[Ranjit Powar · Rating 5 out of 5]

The story, set in rural Punjab during the tumultuous pre-independence years, spans the crucial period from the beginning of the second world war to the partition of India. This was when the world's superpowers were locked in a bloody, devastating war for domination. India, her destiny precariously hanging between independence and servitude, sent her sons to fight Britain's war, ready to make all sacrifices in the hope of freedom. The narrative is believable and probable, carrying the reader along with its portrayal of an ordinary family in Aliwal on the banks of the Ghaggar.
The author opens the doors for the reader to step in effortlessly into the courtyard of Sammi's home leading to four rooms: 'the baithak and front room behind which were the back room and a storage room, every nook and cranny of the space spilling over with stories, some old, others new and some still unfolding, each one defying norms, affirming possibilities, asserting its truth.' We are introduced to Sammi, her parents, aunt and two brothers who inhabit the house.
The story revolves around Sammi, the young, beautiful 'half-widow' whose husband went to war after a short marriage and failed to return for seven years. The grieving woman, still passionately in love with her husband, refuses to listen to her family, who have given him up for dead. She doggedly awaits his return, living through the trauma, blood and sounds of a war thousands of miles away. The author has skillfully woven layers of symbolism by equating the chilly, bare winters of Punjab with war and desolation in Sammi's heart. Sammi carries vivid memories of listening to the song of Bulbuls with her husband during the blissful short period she spent with him, and their chirping is linked deeply to Hari Singh's memory.
"Some bulbuls are dead, and the others have fled," he said. "Oh, Sammi, they couldn't bear the barbarity." Says Hari Singh in a terrifying dream.
The narration is sprinkled with a backdrop of the war events through Hari Singh's letters to Sammi, capturing a feel of the grim era. There are lucid details of everyday rural Punjabi life through references to food, crops, crafts and festivals, adding a cultural dimension to the story. The story is also a reflection of the status of women in Punjabi society of the time, touching upon the absolute control of the family and dictates of a highly patriarchal system, very often propagated by the elder women themselves. At the same time, Sammi and her parental aunt Jeeti bhua are characters who, despite being emotional and loving, do not conform to social dictates at all times. Sammi's mother is a complex character whose childhood experiences have permanently scarred her.
The characters come alive with multi-dimensional portrayals and are not entirely black or white. The book is highly readable for the human element, the cultural innuendos and the layers that unfold as one flips the pages. There is no dull moment as the story grips the reader's interest to the end.
Ranjit Powar

[Aneet Randhawa · Rating 5 out of 5]

Two of the goriest events of the nineteenth century that so intricately intertwined the destiny of the entire world were the two great wars. The conflicts, whose genesis can be traced to the western part of the sphere, had global ramifications that engulfed one and all. A considerable mobilization in terms of men and material resources was done from the colonized world for these conflicts. The Indian contribution was significant as the general feeling was that the destiny of the Indian aspiration for independence was tied to these great wars. Post these wars, as the chivalry of the western powers shone through the colonial narratives of these conflicts, the chivalry of the colonies remained largely unsung. The wider social ramifications of these conflicts in these colonies failed to find a voice.
Author Simrita Dhir through her second novel ‘The song of distant bulbuls’ has audaciously set the record straight by giving a voice to such otherwise muzzled subaltern narratives. She has consciously chosen that epochal moment in history when the second world war was heralding the end of colonialism. Inspired by true events with deeply personal origins, she has successfully weaved an inimitable tale of longing that was all pervasive in the colonies at that moment in history.
The protagonist Sammi, whose husband barely few days after her marriage proceeds to see action in the south east Asian theatre, finds herself immersed in a perpetual longing for his return while being placed in her parental family. The prevalent patriarchy in the family persistently goes on to test her steadfastness which shines through all times. The metaphor of ‘distant bulbuls’ is most appropriately assigned in vividly describing the longing of the distant lovers. Predominantly the tale of a middle rung agricultural family set in eastern Punjab which was then ruled by Phulkian rulers, it also successfully showcases the community’s holistic aspirations and the perseverance that the characters exhibit in the run up to their fulfillment. The aspiration for land seems to run through their veins and transcended regional constraints. It also successfully showcases how in the run up to the dawn of Indian independence the human bonds of friendship and love prevailed, albeit in patches, despite the vitiated communal environs. The author seems to have a nuanced understanding of syncretism that is so intrinsic to Punjabi culture. The manifestation of supreme human emotion of love in all characters successfully evokes shades of Sufism in the novel. Written in simple yet lilting prose, the work can be appreciated by one and all.

[Reet Singh · Rating 5 out of 5]

The author's words bring to life pre independent, rural Punjab, and they color it with the hues of nostalgia. My parents and sisters spent every summer and winter in my maternal grandparents' home in their haveli in the village. I can vouch for every description, every dialogue resonating with me.
Every character is crafted with care - Sammi, her brothers [Jasjit and Kirpal], her parents, and the stoic and loyal Jeeto Bhua - the reader is exposed to their strengths, their flaws, their fears and ambitions through their actions and their inner thoughts. The author effortlessly makes it seem like you know them or someone like them.

And what of the army officer, Hari Singh, Sammi's husband? Though he is physically missing from the story action the entire time thanks to the 2nd World War, he is kept front and center of the reader's attention. This happens because of Sammi's devotion to her husband of 21-days, who went to war seven years ago, and shows no signs of returning. Or even of being alive.

But Hari Singh is never far away - invading Sammi's thoughts and her dreams - through which medium we learn everything about him. And through the seven letters he wrote to Sammi, which she reads over and over. The letters are a lovely device to further the plot. Steadfast, Sammi refuses to accept that he is never coming back even though the war ended some time ago. And she is steadfast in refusing to buckle to familial pressure to marry again. The Bulbuls are her never-ending source of inspiration, but also of despair when she doesn't hear them singing. The title, in that sense, is beautifully apt.

The four main characters all have a voice - Sammi, her brothers, and Hari Singh [through his letters] - with sections devoted to them through the four seasons. I felt this made for powerful story telling, but occasionally, I found it a bit repetitive.

Overall, this is a delightful, earthy tale of true love - of family, of friendships, and of patriarchy and politics - against the backdrop of war, death, and the impending partition of the country. Enjoyed it without a doubt.

[Avatar Singh · Rating 4 out of 5]

Simrita Dhir's novel "The Song of Distant Bulbuls" is spun around a critical theme: in human life, tragic, untimely, death, disease and an all-consuming grief can smother the urge for joy and happiness, irrevocably. This novel depicts how humans can cause agony all around through personal, familial, social and national blunders and ambitions. The overarching thesis of Simirita's novel is a woman's dependent status in the patriarchal Panjabi Society of the mid-twentieth century. While Jeeti Bhua and Preeto tamely submit to the social norms, but Sammi fights bravely to mark an independent path out of the prohibitive and restrictive social rules surrounding her.

The novel depicts some unforgettable characters. Above all, Sammi and Jeeti Bhua are such engrossing beings. Having been married at the raw age of sixteen, Sammi withstands huge pressure from her mother (Bibi), brother (Kirpal), even Jeeti Bhua. Sammi stands up to this familial onslaught and truly stands out a heroine. Querulous and grumpy, Bibi pales as a person vis-a-vis compassionate and calm Jeeti Bhua. Jasjit, Kirpal, Bachan, Zulfi, Preeto, Amrik and many other characters enliven the page of this absorbing novel. Simirta's novel has got a force of poetic prose which compels the reader to read on and on. To quote one example: "life felt like a poem that did not rhyme - incomprehensible and inscrutable - jerks and jolts rising out of nowhere to wipe out all traces of rhythm...."(P233) According to EM Foster, the test of a good novel is whether the story narrated in it can maintain a reader's curiosity to know what happens next and next, indefinitely. "The Song of Distant Bulbuls" is an immensely engrossing chronicle. Once you start reading it, you find it impossible to stop before finishing it. Characters, events, and the narrative style are so compelling that they keep you engaged from the first to the last page.

Dr. A. S. Bhullar, Ph.D.

[RACHHPAL SAHOTA · Rating 5 out of 5]

Simrita Dhir's "The Song of the Distant Bulbuls" is a poignant masterpiece that immerses readers in the rural heartlands of Punjab during the tumultuous year of 1946. Against the backdrop of World War II's devastation, Dhir weaves a captivating love story that embodies human resilience in the face of adversity. The narrative introduces us to the profound love between Sammi, molded in the image of Heer Saleti, and Hari Singh, their bond offering hope amidst the chaos. Sammi's unwavering devotion, depicted through her waiting for Hari Singh, echoes with emotional depth as she clings to his letters as lifelines. Dhir adeptly portrays Sammi's struggles against societal pressures, highlighting her internal conflict and the societal expectations faced by women of her era. Set against the historical canvas of rural Punjab, the novel vividly captures the interplay of friendships, animosities, and political currents during India's transformative period. Dhir's seamless incorporation of Jasjit’s dream scenes portraying the partition adds a poignant layer, emphasizing the lasting impact of historical events on the characters' lives. This literary triumph seamlessly blends history, emotion, and societal commentary, making it a must-read that resonates across generations.

[Bikram Singh · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is literary fiction at its finest. I was wating for the book. I read it breathlessly over two days. Old Punjab comes alive as does the princely city of Patiala. The Southeast Asian theatre of World War-II is vividly presented, the rising Indian national movement sweeping across the pages like wild fire. Sammi like Heer Saleti rises in the face of adversities and comes to personify the resilience of Punjab and the perseverance of India. Jasjit is an outstanding character as is the magnificent Hari Singh. Bapuji, Bibi and Jeeti Bhua represent a bygone pristine Punjab. Kirpal and Bachan Singh drive the plot in ingenious ways. The plot is compelling like the characters and the ending heart-breaking and brilliant. This is a masterpiece woven with finesse, true to the Punjabi ethos, Indian struggle and world history. Driven by truth and emotion, it makes one sit back and reflect on life and love. I want to read it again, this time without crying. Extraordinary work.

[Shivani · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read The Song of Distant Bulbuls most enthusiastically. It is very true to the time period and to the rural landscape of Punjab. Sammi is a brave and unforgettable character. What worked for me was the emotional connect that I was able to make with all the characters. Jeeti Bhua, Bibi, Jasjit and Kirpal are wonderfully crafted characters. The village sprang to life as did Old Patiala. Hari Singh is awe inspiring and crafted differently from the rest of the characters. I hope the author will include the Central Valley on her book tour. I heard her on the radio. Central Valley has radios shows and wide readership for historical fiction. i can see a beautiful movie coming out of this novel in the days to come. The novel reads like a film. Sammi glides through the story like an poem. wishing the novel a wide readership.

[myliteraryworld · Rating 5 out of 5]

"The Song of Distant Bulbuls" is a beautifully crafted novel that transports readers to Aliwala, a rural Punjab village during World War II. At its core, it follows Sammi, a 17-year-old who marries soldier Hari Singh, delving into themes of love, resilience, and the enduring human spirit. Sammi's unwavering faith in her husband, who left for war 21 days after their wedding, is the emotional heart of the story. Memories of listening to bulbuls' songs with Hari Singh add nostalgia and tenderness. The novel's backdrop of war, rural life, and festivals offers cultural depth. Simrita Dhir's immersive writing connects readers deeply with characters and emotions, making it a must-read for those who appreciate evocative storytelling and profound human experiences.

[Narinder Sangha · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Song of Distant Bulbuls by Simrita Dhir is unforgettable. I read the kindle edition and have ordered the paperback now. Sammi and Jasjit are gripping characters, deep and well etched. Hari Singh is charismatic, extraordinary. I will read the book again and again due to the excellent characters, plot and the settting of Punjab. I was transported to another time. Zulfi and Nafisa and great supporting characters too. The book provides a cinematic experience, very film like. hoping the author will come to northern california to talk about this masterpiece. kirpal and bachan singh are still lingering on my mind.

[Lisa B · Rating 5 out of 5]

After reading and greatly enjoying Rainbow Acres, I was eager to read this author's newest book. There were so many lovely parts that resonated with me. Our book club had a wonderful discussion and many of us agreed that it was powerful to hear a different perspective on WWII; it’s easy to focus solely on that which we’ve heard/read about for so many years. I appreciate the way Simrita develops her characters, the symbolism incorporated throughout the book, and the love story that was inspired by her own grandparents’ experiences. Simrita has a beautiful way with words and I hope to read another book by her in the near future.

[Hargunjot Kaur · Rating 5 out of 5]

My personal experience of reading this book mesmerising. Couldn’t keep the book unattended for even a few hours. I came across different experiences of protagonist in new ways with seasons. Book causes both self introspection and causative awareness of emotional n mental state of just not the characters but our own personal experiences and emotions. Still in awe of how profound details of characters n their lives experiences are brought before you . Shall say a must read for All . Wishing Dhir many more years of writing.

[kavi kaur · Rating 5 out of 5]

A riveting account of relationships between siblings, family ties, dreams, aspirations, pain, love, shared loss, upheavals, emotional aches and decisions. Set in rural Punjab, it narrates a story of love and loss during the Great War. The history well connected and each character so well projected, one feels the past is alive. Hari Singh’s seven letters to Sammi surpass a man’s love for his wife and Sammi’s eternal love for Hari Singh leaves you aching…A must read.

[Sirius Black · Rating 5 out of 5]

The song of distant bulbul

This book was a great read and showed the distress of the freedom struggle of India as well as wars on common people. It was heart wrenching and at the same time, heart warming to read Sammi and Hari’s journey. I hope to read many more such books that offer a new perspective into the lives of people at the time of separation of India and Pakistan.

Best wishes to Simrita Dhir
Japnidh Kaur

[Nistara Sidhu · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent work. I recommend reading it twice to understand the literary nuances. This is a work literary fiction. The plot is riveting and the characters are spell binding. I recommend it to any one who is interested in the Second World War and the history of India. The backdrop of Punjab and Rajputana is unforgettable.

[Nikhil Varaiya · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was read in our Book Club. The members were very positive overall; the author was present during the book discussion & provided very informative input about her process of writing the book. The story has autobiographical elements and is a saga of a Sikh family around the end of World War II; the descriptions of the various characters are very evocative.

[Adesh · Rating 5 out of 5]

Unforgettable work of art. True to the time period. I already want to read it again. This is a fantastic novel about old Punjab. Hari Singh is an unforgettable character. Sammi is stellar and so is Jasjit. Always looking to read more good fiction from Punjab

[Seema · Rating 5 out of 5]

Remarkable work of literature about Prepartition India and Second World War. Plot and Characterization are superb. Highly recommended book.

[Judy Spencer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved how the author wove in the history of India after WWII, the strong love story, the story of family and friendship. Very much enjoyed reading the book.

[Pritam Singh]

I felt enriched by understanding the culture and civilisation around Ghaggar river as illustrated in this rare work of fiction on that area of Punjab. Though my origins are also from the Malwa belt, I have not seen the Ghaggar river and virtually no knowledge of the culture that is always associated with a river of the area. When I listened to Sidhu Moosewala songs, I identified with his tibbian da putt (son of the sand dunes) (https://indianexpress.com/article/opi...) as I have childhood memories of tibbas (sand dunes). To enable me to move from dibbas to the river was the enriching contribution to my understanding of the Malwa and a valuable addition to the literary production on Malwa especially on that belt of the Malwa region. A strength of a good novel lies in marrying the macro historical events with micro family and personal lives and relations. This novel had a good architecture of that. One line (page 163) captured it so brilliantly: 'India's war and Sammi's struggles were far from over'. Description of bulbul singing as providing respite to Sammi's turmoil, was a beautiful celebration of nature as a solace (p219). The novel bringing together two professions- soldiering and farming- of Punjabi people is another redeemable feature. This novel makes a valuable contribution to that genre of fiction by Punjabi writers writing in English who have with their origins in the rural culture of Punjab. Amandeep Sandhu and Rashpal Sahota have previously made wonderful contributions to that genre of fiction. Readers can expect more from Simriti Dhir in this genre. Pritam Singh Oxford

[Tulika Agarwal · Rating 5 out of 5]

"The Song of Distant Bulbuls" by Simrita Dhir is a poignant and captivating tale set against the backdrop of a tumultuous period in history. The story of Sammi, a young bride separated from her husband during WWII, unfolds in a vividly portrayed village, Aliwala, with its rich cultural tapestry and Sufi influences.

Simrita Dhir skillfully weaves together themes of love, longing, and the search for one's true self amid the chaos of India's fight for independence. Sammi's character, torn between familial expectations and her enduring love for Hari Singh, becomes a relatable and resilient protagonist.

Dhir's use of historical events and the looming specter of independence adds depth to the narrative, highlighting the broader societal changes that impact the characters' lives. The juxtaposition of personal desires against the backdrop of a changing nation raises thought-provoking questions about the nature of happiness and love.

Overall, "The Song of Distant Bulbuls" is a beautifully written and emotionally resonant novel that delves into the complexities of human relationships and the pursuit of happiness. It masterfully captures the essence of its historical setting and leaves readers pondering the enduring power of love and the choices we make in the face of adversity. Simrita Dhir's book is a must-read for those who appreciate historical fiction with a soulful touch.