Poetry, Power & Humanity—V Waris Shah: Wh…
Our discussion of Bulleh Shah in Part IV concluded with a question: Who are we when power can no longer name us? Bulleh Shah dismantled the identities imposed upon the human person by lineage, orthodoxy and social hierarchy. Waris Shah takes the inquiry into the institutions governing everyday life. He shows what happens when two human beings attempt to live according to the freedom Bulleh imagined.
Heer is celebrated as Punjab’s greatest love story. To describe it merely as a romance, however, is to conceal its intellectual achievement. Earlier poets narrated the sufferings of Heer and Ranjha; Waris Shah’s classic poetic work Heeer (1766) placed an entire social order on trial. Shafqat Tanvir Mirza rightly observed that Waris treated the story through the “politics, economy and cultural values” lived by the people of his period. His poem contains a devastating criticism of poor governance, institutional corruption, religious exploitation, arrogance of the wealthy and misery of those without power.
Love provides the narrative, but power determines its outcome. Waris Shah wrote against the background of eighteenth-century political disintegration. Invasions, weakening imperial authority, struggles among local forces and economic insecurity had destabilised Punjab.
Waris Shah was not attached to a royal court capable of insulating him from ordinary suffering. His Heer therefore became more than a reconstruction of an old legend. It preserved Punjab’s speech, customs and collective memory while exposing the institutions through which privilege protected itself.
Heer is central to this achievement because she is not a passive beloved. She recognises Ranjha, brings him into her father’s household as a herdsman, arranges opportunities to meet him and openly asserts her choice when the relationship is discovered. She possesses intelligence, desire and moral agency. Her freedom is tolerated only while it remains invisible and does not threaten the authority of the family.
The moment Heer chooses her own future, affection turns into surveillance. Her body becomes the bearer of family honour, and marriage becomes the means through which that honour is restored.
Heer does not ask permission to feel. She declares a commitment already formed through conscience and love. Her language is especially significant. She does not present Ranjha as an object she wishes to acquire. She has offered her own life and accepted responsibility for that choice. In a society where marriage joins families, properties and status groups, such self-determination is revolutionary.
The dispute is not simply between one prospective husband and another. Ranjha represents Heer’s autonomous choice; the Kheras represent the settlement arranged for her by others. Her family treats marriage as a transaction carrying consequences for lineage, reputation and power. Heer insists upon treating it as a union requiring the will of the persons whose lives it determines.
| میں تاں منگ رنجھیٹے دی ہو چکی اساں منگ درگاہ تھیں لیا رانجھا |
Main tāṅ mang Ranjheṭe dī ho chukkī Asāṅ mang dargāh thīṅ liyā Rānjhā |
I have already been pledged to Ranjha; from the divine court itself I received him. |
| اساں جان رانجھیٹے دے پیش کیتی لکھ کھیڑیاں نوں چا گھولدی ہے |
Asāṅ jān Ranjheṭe de pesh kītī Lakkh Kheṛiāṅ nūṅ chā gholdī hai |
I have laid my life before Ranjha; I would sacrifice a hundred thousand Kheras for him. |
This is the political economy hidden within the romance. Property is not limited to land, cattle and wealth. Patriarchal authority extends the idea of ownership to women. A daughter may be cherished as long as she accepts the future selected for her. Once she claims ownership of her own will, love within the family becomes conditional. Research on Heer similarly identifies the family, property, mosque, qazi, feudal hierarchy and ruling elite as interconnected institutions shaped by economic interest.
Kaido is the most visible agent of this system, though he should not be dismissed as a solitary villain. He represents social surveillance: the resentful custodian of conformity who observes, reports and converts private happiness into public scandal. Power does not survive through rulers alone. It recruits relatives, neighbours and self-appointed guardians of morality who internalise its prohibitions and enforce them upon others.
Kaido’s triumph begins when Heer and Ranjha’s love is no longer treated as a human relationship but as an offence against collective honour. The family then requires an institution capable of turning its demand into a lawful and religious command. The qazi enters at precisely this point.
Waris Shah does not attack faith. He exposes the appropriation of faith by those serving property and patriarchy. The qazi is called because parental pressure has failed to secure Heer’s consent. Religious vocabulary is employed to present submission as virtue and resistance as sin.
Heer answers him from within the moral tradition he claims to represent. She insists that genuine faith cannot be separated from truth, and that her union with Ranjha possesses a reality no ceremonial decree can erase. The surviving text presents an extended confrontation in which the qazi invokes authority while Heer asserts conscience and consent. Unable to persuade her, institutional power reveals its coercive core. The qazi threatens punishment and demands that she accept the Khera marriage.
| قاضی بنھ نکاح تے گھت ڈولی نال کھیڑیاں دے دِتی تور میاں |
Qāzī bannh nikāh te ghat ḍolī Nāl Kheṛiāṅ de dittī tor miyāṅ |
The qazi bound the marriage and placed her in the palanquin; she was sent away with the Kheras. |
| ہیر کھیڑیاں نال نہ تُرے مولے پیا پِنڈ دے وچ ہے شور میاں |
Hīr Kheṛiāṅ nāl na ture, maulā piyā Piṇḍ de vich hai shor miyāṅ |
Heer would not willingly go with the Kheras; an uproar filled the village. |
| کھیڑے گھن کے ہیر نوں رواں ہوئے جویں مال نوں لے وَگے چور میاں |
Kheṛe ghin ke Hīr nūṅ ravāṅ hoe Jiveṅ māl nūṅ lai vagge chor miyāṅ |
The Kheras took Heer and moved away, like thieves driving stolen cattle. |
The comparison is Waris Shah’s own and is among the most revealing images in the poem. The final line strips the ceremony of its respectable appearance. There has been a qazi, a marriage procession, jewellery, property and public ritual. Waris nevertheless compares the removal of Heer to thieves taking away cattle. Religious form cannot transform coercion into justice. Ceremony cannot manufacture consent.
The description also reveals the economic imagination underlying patriarchy. Heer is transported like property from one household to another. Wealth, ornaments, livestock and the bride appear within the same ceremonial transaction. Her refusal does not stop the procession because the institutions surrounding her recognise the claims of families more readily than the will of a woman.
Erich Fromm’s distinction between having and being again becomes relevant. Heer’s family operates within the mode of having: having status, having honour, having alliances and having authority over a daughter. Heer and Ranjha seek the mode of being, in which relationship arises from recognition rather than possession. Their love becomes intolerable because it refuses to function as property.

The tragedy is completed when every major institution fails them. The family protects honour rather than the child. The community protects conformity rather than truth. The qazi validates power rather than consent. Kinship becomes surveillance, marriage becomes transfer and religion becomes enforcement.
Heer’s eventual poisoning is thus not an accidental ending added to create emotional intensity. It is the final response of an order that cannot accommodate autonomous choice. When shame, persuasion, forced separation, arranged marriage and religious sanction fail to extinguish her commitment, physical elimination restores collective control. The victory is hollow.
The families survive, but their moral world is condemned. Kaido succeeds within the plot, while history remembers him only as the embodiment of envy and coercion. The Kheras obtain the marriage ceremony, but not Heer’s consent. The qazi pronounces the required words, but cannot make falsehood true. Heer and Ranjha die, though Punjab grants them the immortality denied to those who destroyed them.
The continuing thread of our inquiry is now clearer. Shah Hussain crossed the narrow passage from attachment towards freedom. Bulleh Shah removed the labels through which society imprisons the self. Waris Shah shows what organised society does when that liberated self claims the right to choose.

The institutions portrayed in Heer have not disappeared. Forced marriages, denial of women’s inheritance, biradari (clan) restrictions, honour crimes, clerical legitimisation of patriarchy and the use of family reputation to silence consent remain part of our social reality. Their language has changed; their central claim remains that family, property and status possess rights superior to the human person.
Bulleh Shah asked what remains when inherited identities fall away. Waris Shah explains why society fears the answer. Heer ceases to be property when she names her own beloved. Ranjha ceases to be obedient when he rejects the future assigned to him. Their love becomes political because it asserts that a human being belongs first to herself or himself—not to lineage, wealth, clergy or collective honour.
The lovers are killed, but power does not secure the final word. Punjab remembers Heer and Ranjha. It remembers their destroyers only as instruments of injustice.
[To be continued]
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Dr. Ikramul Haq, Advocate Supreme Court, writer, literary critic, Adjunct Faculty at Lahore University of Management Sciences (LUMS), member Advisory Board and Visiting Senior Fellow of Pakistan Institute of Development Economics (PIDE), holds an LLD in tax laws. He was full-time journalist from 1979 to 1984 with Viewpoint and Dawn. He also served Civil Services of Pakistan from 1984 to 1996.