New Delhi: Blame it on the Delhi rains on a weekday, the location, or the lack of awareness about the book, but the Delhi launch of journalist and author Jupinderjit Singh’s book, Who Killed Moosewala? The Spiralling Story of Violence in Punjab, barely attracted a crowd. Those in attendance were more interested in getting their copies of the book signed by the moderator, Fever FM RJ Rahul Makin.
The book’s title is provocative, but it does not provide a direct answer to the burning question: Who killed Moosewala? According to Singh, the answer is not simple. There is a lot to unpack.
“The characters in the book answer the question,” he adds. Given the network of crime in Punjab, each character has their own narratives and reasons that ultimately led to the assassination of the singer. From gang lord Lawrence Bishnoi, who felt offended by Moosewala’s lyrics, which he saw as a direct attack, to the transformation of the shy Shubhdeep into Sidhu Moosewala, aligning with the ‘Punjabiyat’ and macho image portrayed in his songs, there was a growing threat to the music mafia.
Moosewala was a rebellious and controversial figure with a large following, but there were also rumours about his alleged connections with gangs and his songs advocating gun culture and violence, which the book addresses.
Singh and Makin discussed the book for about 40 minutes in a quaint little bookshop in Delhi’s bustling Greater Kailash market, with only a dozen attendees. However, the audience interaction covered everything except Moosewala, from radio shows to South Delhi roads.
Published by Westland Books, this is Singh’s third book on crime. He gained fame for his book on the pistol that Bhagat Singh used to kill British police officer J.P. Saunders in 1928. In Who Killed Moosewala?, Singh delves into the famous singer’s death, the subsequent investigation, and larger questions of hero worship, caste intricacies, and the transformation of a shy rebel into a potential agent of social change.
On 31 May, Siddhu Moosewala’s father bid a tearful goodbye to his slain son. Thousands witnessed the heartbroken father removing his turban and offering it to the crowd— a symbolic gesture of loss. This widely publicised act was discussed, analysed, and reported locally and internationally.
Crime journalist Jupinderjit Singh had been observing the situation from afar, reporting on it clinically. However, Moosewala’s father’s gesture deeply moved him, both professionally and personally. It was then that he realised there was more to the story than meets the eye and decided to write a book.
“[Writing this book] was extremely stressful,” he tells ThePrint. The issue is sensitive, as everyone involved, except Moosewala, is still alive and in the picture. The challenge of getting people to talk and later writing a book while considering the impact took a toll on him.
Also read: Sidhu Moosewala was a shy boy who rarely talked – The aggression in his songs shocked everyone
Moosewala— the hero, anti-hero, ideology and threat
During the session, Makin began with an Ahmed Qasmi couplet: ‘Who says that my death will be my end, Like a river, I will flow into the ocean’, referring to Moosewala and his legacy. Makin said that the book, as a reader, felt more like a crime fiction and not ‘a reportage or a documentary’, and he was certain to recommend it to Moosewala’s fans. However, Singh refused to acknowledge himself as a fan. He appreciates the singer’s courage and boldness—a lone man fighting for his life and beliefs.
Although the topic was serious, the atmosphere remained a mix of seriousness and lightheartedness. The author cracked a few jokes, and when the moderator asked if he feared backlash, Singh remarked that, as a reporter, he understood the importance of seeking forgiveness.
“I have a penchant for it, whether in my reporting or in my marriage. If someone proves my facts in this book wrong, I’ll be the first to apologise,” he added. The author also noted how, given the sensitivity surrounding the issue, he tries not to smile during book launches. Seriousness is a prerequisite.
When an audience member raised the issue of the state being complicit in suppressing dissenting voices, especially among artists, Singh provided a balanced response. He referred to it as collateral damage in the state’s bid to maintain their idea of peace. Later, he engaged with the audience member, discussing the extent to which the term “collateral damage” encompasses. In its bid to maintain peace, the state often employs, what the author terms, its “methods of peacekeeping”, and artists often “end up playing into their hands”. “When it comes to the state, artists are perhaps considered collateral damage,” he said.
Another audience member questioned Singh about Moosewala’s impact within Punjab and beyond and how much of a threat he was becoming. It is a curious coincidence that as soon as Moosewala disappeared from the scene, the possibility of a new hero in the form of Amritpal Singh Sandhu emerged.
“He was at that point where some kind of ideology was definitely coming up. He rebelled against music labels, took on the system, and perhaps was becoming the base of an ideology,” Singh answered. According to him, Punjab has always had a culture of hero worship. When Makin asked if Moosewala’s status was similar to that of singer Chamkeela or poet Paash, the author added that Moosewala was turning into some kind of a hero and would be discussed in the years to come, perhaps more as an anti-hero. Many in the audience nodded.
Singh deliberately chose to analyse the singer’s lyrics in the book to demonstrate their long history. While the common perception is that Moosewala spread gun culture, Singh discussed how guns have a different meaning within Punjab’s culture. He emphasised that Moosewala’s story would be incomplete without the story of Punjab, and Punjab’s story would be incomplete without Moosewala.
From the fields of Moosa to the corridors of Tihar
Singh had barely known Moosewala, but as he dug deeper, he uncovered the larger politics at play—peasants and partridges, gangs and gun culture, music and mafia. The book takes the reader from the fields of Moosa to the corridors of Tihar, leaving the reader to discern who the killers of Moosewala are—individuals, society, or the larger system.
The book stops at the current state of investigations, but the author plans to write a second edition given the amount of data he still has and the emails he continues to receive following the book’s release and the controversies that persist. Perhaps Moosewala’s lyrics remain a testament to this: “Listen, I’m not finished…. this jatt has brought about a revolution. Pay attention.”
(Edited by Prashant)