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SHIKRA YAAR: The Timeless Ballad of Love and Loss
SHIKRA YAAR | O Mother, I Made a Hawk My Beloved | Shiv Kumar Batalvi’s Tragic Masterpiece by Voice of Inder
Welcome to a soulful rendition of "Maye Ni Maye, Main Ik Shikra Yaar Banaya," one of the defining works by the legendary Punjabi poet, Shiv Kumar Batalvi. Often referred to as the 'Sultan of Sorrow' (Birha Da Sultan), Batalvi uses the powerful metaphor of a beautiful, cruel hawk (Shikra) to describe a beloved who took everything and then flew away forever.
In this haunting poem, the narrator recounts the supreme devotion and sacrifice made for a love that was inherently wild and unforgiving. From laying a bed of love beneath the moonlight to feeding the beloved 'the flesh of the heart,' this composition is a deep dive into the agony of separation (Birha).
🎵 What you will experience:
The raw, emotional depth of Batalvi’s unparalleled poetry.
A mesmerizing musical arrangement that honors the tragic folklore of Punjab.
A soulful, heart rending vocal performance by Mrs Inder Pal Kaur Bhatia, designed to connect directly with the soul of the words.
If you love classic Punjabi Ghazals, Sufi poetry, or deep, melancholic music, this video is dedicated to you.

The Lyrics
🇵🇰 Punjabi Lyrics (Gurmukhi)
ਮਾਏ ਨੀ ਮਾਏ, ਮੈਂ ਇੱਕ ਸ਼ਿਕਰਾ ਯਾਰ ਬਣਾਇਆ। ਓਹਦੇ ਸਿਰ 'ਤੇ ਕਲਗੀ, ਤੇ ਓਹਦੇ ਪੈਰੀਂ ਝਾਂਜਰ, ਓਹ ਚੋਗ ਚੁਗਿੰਦਾ ਆਇਆ ਇੱਕ ਓਹਦੇ ਰੂਪ ਦੀ ਧੁੱਪ ਤਿਖੇਰੀ, ਦੂਜਾ ਮਹਿਕਾਂ ਦਾ ਤਿਰਹਾਇਆ ਤੀਜਾ ਓਹਦਾ ਰੰਗ ਗੁਲਾਬੀ ਓਹ ਕਿਸੇ ਗੋਰੀ ਮਾਂ ਦਾ ਜਾਇਆ ਇਸ਼ਕੇ ਦਾ ਇੱਕ ਪਲੰਘ ਨੁਆਰੀ, ਵੇ ਅਸਾਂ ਚਾਨਣੀਆਂ ਵਿੱਚ ਡਾਹਿਆ ਤਨ ਦੀ ਚਾਦਰ ਹੋ ਗਈ ਮੈਲੀ, ਓਸ ਪੈਰ ਜਦ ਪਲੰਘੇ ਪਾਇਆ ਦੁਖਣ ਮੇਰੇ ਨੈਣਾਂ ਦੇ ਕੋਏ, ਤੇ ਵਿੱਚ ਹਾੜ੍ਹ ਹੰਝੂਆਂ ਦਾ ਆਇਆ ਸਾਰੀ ਰਾਤ ਗਈ ਵਿੱਚ ਸੋਚਾਂ, ਉਸ ਇਹ ਕੀ ਜ਼ੁਲਮ ਕਮਾਇਆ ਸੁਬਾ ਸਵੇਰੇ ਲੈ ਨੀ ਵੱਟਣਾ, ਵੇ ਅਸਾਂ ਮਲ ਮਲ ਓਸ ਨੂੰ ਨੁਆਇਆ। ਦੇਹੀ ਦੇ ਵਿੱਚੋਂ ਨਿੱਕਲਣ ਚਿੰਗਾਂ, ਵੇ ਸਾਡਾ ਹੱਥ ਗਿਆ ਕੁਮਲਾਇਆ। ਚੂਰੀ ਕੁੱਟਾਂ, ਤੇ ਓਹ ਖਾਂਦਾ ਨਾਹੀਂ, ਵੇ ਅਸਾਂ ਦਿਲ ਦਾ ਮਾਸ ਖਵਾਇਆ ਇੱਕ ਉਡਾਰੀ ਐਸੀ ਮਾਰੀ, ਓਹ ਮੁੜ ਵਤਨੀ ਨਾ ਆਇਆ ਮਾਏ ਨੀ ਮਾਏ, ਮੈਂ ਇੱਕ ਸ਼ਿਕਰਾ ਯਾਰ ਬਣਾਇਆ।
🇬🇧 English Translation
O Mother, I made a Hawk my Beloved.
A plume on his head, and bells on his feet,
He came pecking at my grain.

Firstly, the fierce sunshine of his beauty,
Secondly, he was thirsty for fragrances.
Thirdly, his color was rose-pink,
He must be the son of a very fair mother.

A fresh bed of love,
I laid it for him beneath the moonlight.
The sheet of my body became stained (impure),
The moment he placed his foot upon that bed.
The corners of my eyes are aching,
And a flood of tears has overwhelmed them.
The whole night was spent in thoughts,
"What cruelty has he committed?"

Early in the morning, I brought cleansing paste,
And I rubbed and bathed him (with devotion).
Flames/sparks came out from his body,
And my hands were burnt and withered.
I crushed choori (a sweet crumbled food), but he wouldn't eat it,
So I fed him the flesh of my heart.
He took one flight so high,
That He never returned

Credits:
Poet: Shiv Kumar Batalvi
Singer :Mrs Inder Pal Kaur Bhatia
Video Concept: Mrs Inder Pal Kaur Bhatia
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   / @voiceofinder2025