Murdak Bayaan: Verse 2 - The Bitter Truth of Belonging

This is the third part of our series exploring Sherda Anpad's "Murdak Bayaan." Read Verse 1 here →

Verse 2: The Bitter Truth of Belonging

जनूँकैं मैंल एकबट्या उनूँलै मैं न्यार करूँ,
People whom I united (my family), they ousted me when I am dead
जनूकैं भितेर धरौउनूँलै मैं भ्यार धरुं।
Whom I gave shelter they took me out
जनू कैं ढक्यूंणा लिजिमैंल आपुँण ख्वौर फौड़,
For whom I worked and exhausted myself to provide cloths
निधानै घड़ि मैंकैं उनुलै नाँगौड़ करौ।
When I died they only took my cloths off (a ritual for the dead)
बेई तक आपण आज, निकाऔ निकाऔ है गे।
I was their own till yesterday, today they wanna take me out
पराण लै छुटण निदी, उठाऔ-उठाऔ है गे।।
They didn't even let me die properly, and wanted to take me to cremation ground

Sandarbh, Prasang & Vyakhya

Context (Sandarbh): The deceased reflects on how relationships dissolve the moment death arrives.

Situation (Prasang): The dead observes how those he spent his life serving now treat him as a burden to be removed.

Explanation (Vyakhya): Sherda reveals the harsh truth about belonging. The same family the deceased united now ousts him. The same people he sheltered now evict him. This verse is about the cruel speed with which love transforms into logistics.

The Reversal

The verse opens with devastating clarity: the deceased spent his life bringing people together, giving them shelter, working himself to exhaustion to clothe them. But the moment he dies, every act of care is reversed.

The irony is crushing — the architect of belonging is now expelled from the house he built. Yesterday, he was the center. Today, he's the problem to be solved.

The Speed of Forgetting

"I was their own till yesterday, today they wanna take me out."

Twenty-four hours. That's how fast belonging evaporates. The chant "निकाऔ-निकाऔ" (take out, take out) echoes through the house. The body hasn't gone cold, but already the family is chanting "उठाऔ-उठाऔ" (lift him, take him away).

The final line cuts deepest: "They didn't even let me die properly." It's not just death — it's eviction. It's not just departure — it's disposal.

The Truth

Sherda doesn't moralize or judge. He simply observes: this is what death does to relationships. It converts love to logistics. You can spend your whole life building connections, and death will dismantle them in an afternoon.

The deceased doesn't rage; he simply states facts. This is the accountant's final audit, and the books don't balance. The verse isn't asking for pity. It's stating the terms of the human contract: you die alone, even surrounded by family. Especially surrounded by family.