PUNJAB: THE FRONTLINE THAT NEVER WANTED YOUR WAR By Babbal Khehra

They’re at it again.

India. Pakistan. The old game.

The same smoke, the same speeches, the same broken promises behind louder explosions.

And once again—who’s in the middle of it?

Punjab.

Again.

Not Delhi.

Punjab.

Not as a voice, not as a negotiator, not as a citizen—

But as a target.

Every Time They Go to War, They Borrow Our Blood First

They want our loyalty.

They want our bravery.

They want our silence.

They want our sons, our land, our sacrifice.

But they don’t want us.

Not when the missiles stop flying.

Not when the wheat needs water.

Not when our youth are dying quietly in forgotten towns filled with addiction they let in through the back door.

When it’s war—we’re warriors.

When it’s peace—we’re liabilities.

When we protest—we’re terrorists.

When we bleed—we’re statistics.

You can’t keep calling us saviors and threats in the same breath.

This Isn’t the First Time You’ve Burned Us To Keep Yourself Warm

1947 — You split us in half and called it independence.

1984 — You burned us alive and called it necessary.

1990s — You silenced us and called it stability.

2020 — We protested starvation and you called us separatists.

And now?

2025 — You put us in the middle of missiles and drone strikes—again—and call it defense.

You didn’t ask us if we were ready.

You just assumed we’d take the hit—again.

Punjab Is Not Your Shield. It’s a Wound You Keep Hiding.

You parade us on Republic Day.

You sell us in tourism reels.

You chant Bhagat Singh like a brand—

But you never asked why he picked the bomb over the ballot.

Maybe because he saw what we’re still living.

A nation that loves what we give, but never who we are.

This Current War? This Isn’t Ours. But You’ll Still Make Us Pay.

Missiles fall. Sirens scream.

Tarn Taran shakes. Khadur Sahib listens. Goindwal watches windows explode.

And what do you say?

Nothing.

No headlines.

No compensation.

No fucking acknowledgement.

Just silence—and then a whisper:

“Punjab is always strong.”

No.

We’re not always strong.

We’re always sacrificed.

We’re Not Asking for Glory. We’re Asking for Memory.

Remember:

• Who guards your borders.

• Who buries your dead.

• Who grows your grain.

• Who never said no, even when everything was taken.

We don’t want separation.

We want truth.

We want you to stop pretending we’re only Indian when you need heroes,

and not Indian when we ask for respect.