The Baramasa, is divided into sections which have been assigned the ancient names of the months. It is intrinsically rooted in a real Pubjabscape. There are no `niceties' of an idyllic countryside here; only life as it is lived by hardened people battling for survival. Preceded by a prologue which begins the exodus from Lahore, the poems lead to a landscape as old as man himself. The journey starts midyear when the extravagant colours of spring are being rapidly ...
