Punjab is stirring again. The land that gave us Baba Farid and the rhythm of dhol beats is seeing a cultural revival that feels both overdue and surprisingly fresh.
At the centre of this resurgence is Chief Minister Maryam Nawaz Sharif, who’s made the preservation and celebration of Punjab’s identity a visible part of her agenda. In one of her early speeches, she described Punjab’s cultural legacy as a shared pride and promised government backing to help it survive, grow, and reach younger generations.
This isn’t just talk. Across the province, funding has been boosted for local festivals and traditional events. Schools and colleges have been encouraged to hold Punjabi poetry readings, storytelling sessions, and community-based cultural days. There’s even a renewed push to fold Punjabi language and literature more firmly into classrooms–a move many educators say is long overdue. Historical sites, too, are getting attention. Restoration work is being treated as a cultural necessity, not just a bureaucratic task. Information and Culture Minister Azma Bokhari has played a key role in turning these ideas into action. Where the Chief Minister has set the tone, Bukhari has taken the baton and run with it. She’s spoken openly about the need to rebuild not just the cultural landscape, but the confidence of those who keep it alive.
This week’s celebrations of Punjabi Culture Day were perhaps the clearest sign yet that the shift is real. From Lahore to Layyah, communities joined in with pride. Traditional dress, especially the iconic pagri, returned to public spaces. Local artists performed. Schools staged plays. In many places, it felt less like a government campaign and more like a community remembering itself.
This week’s celebrations of Punjabi Culture Day were perhaps the clearest sign yet that the shift is real.
The festivities peaked this weekend at Alhamra, where the culture department hosted a large-scale gathering of folk artists, musicians, dancers, and scholars. It’s the kind of event that sends a message-not just to the rest of the country, but to Punjabis themselves-that their stories and traditions matter.
One area getting particular attention is theatre. Once a thriving part of Punjab’s artistic life, the theatre had faded into neglect. But under Bokhari’s watch, things are changing. A new Theatre Act has been passed after consultation with performers and venue owners, aiming to restore dignity and support to the stage. For Bokhari, theatre isn’t just entertainment but a public mirror, a space where society sees itself clearly.
Her team is also looking ahead. In a province where nearly half the population is under 25, connecting young people to their heritage has become a core goal. That includes using digital platforms to share Punjabi music, stories, and traditions in formats that appeal to today’s audiences. It also means encouraging youth-led initiatives and ensuring cultural content in schools doesn’t feel like an afterthought.
Inclusion has been another consistent theme. One of the most significant recent moves was the implementation of the Sikh Marriage Act, offering long-awaited legal recognition to Sikh marriages in the province. It’s a quiet but important step towards ensuring every community in Punjab feels seen, heard, and respected. Furthermore, the government’s continuous interest in the Kartarpur Corridor intends to add to the international narrative.
Women’s roles in Punjab’s culture are also coming into sharper focus. Government programs are helping bring attention to female voices in art, literature, and history. Cultural events now often spotlight the experiences of women, both past and present, while female artists are being given more platforms and support.
The public’s response has been more than just polite approval. There’s real engagement. You can feel it in the turnout at events, in the clothes people wear, and in the pride with which families explain traditions to children who might otherwise have forgotten them.
Of course, not everything will change overnight. There are still gaps, still debates, and still questions about how much of this revival will last beyond political cycles. The movement has been tragically slow in catching up, and quite interestingly, most of the resistance has come from within. Many Punjabis believe that adopting the mother language as a lingua franca would not pay off. Unlike Urdu and English, there remain only a handful of universities that can boast of active Punjabi departments. Even today, Punjabi is not taught at the school level, and consequently, few jobs utilise it. But for now, something has shifted.
This isn’t nostalgia. It’s an attempt to reclaim something deeper: an effort to make sure Punjab’s story doesn’t get lost in the rush toward the future.
The writer is a freelance columnist.