Not bad for a first time no?
Do you understand?
From: Mumbai, Maharashtra, India
About me: They say that when a hundred monkeys get together and randomly bang the keys on the keybord, the entire works of Shakespeare will be reproduced. Thanks to this blog, you now know thats not true. I'm just another internet-addicted idiot suffering from diarrhea of the mouth and constipation of the mind. My ignorance is encyclopedic. Yeah, that's all. *Insert own witty line here*
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
2009: A year in review. Part I.
Dear World,
I know I've been rather inactive on this blog. I've made just 6 updates this year, which is easily the lowest in it's 4 years of existence. My sex life is about 20 times more active than this blog. But that's not saying much since 20 times zero is still very much zero. Haha. I'm so funny. Not.
As I've just demonstrated, thanks to the lack of writing, my sense of humour too has rapidly descended into middle earth. It is currently playing chess with Gollum.
And hence, in a final bid to update, I shall run you through the year that was in the life of The Tanmay. This is party 1 in a 3 part series.
1. The Big Fat South Christian Wedding.
I happen to be a South Indian. A part of the 'Bhat' family. No wait, not 'Bhatt'. 'Bhat'. Single T.
We're the other Bhats. The Bhats who've suffered numerous years of mistaken spellings on certificates, receipts, PAY CHEQUES, e-mails, internship letters, PAY CHEQUES and PAY CHEQUES. It must be noted that the Bhat family and the 'Kapur' family are allies.
That piece of information would be absolutely worthless if this was a random post. But this is a post about my sisters wedding, wherein the element of 'Bhat' is significant.
Namrata Bhat, previously known for being my sister, got married on the 12th of January to a sweet little boy known as Sharath Menezes. Obviously, since it is a wedding, several members of the Bhat family went a little beserk for a while, but soon calmed down when a fresh round of tambli was served.
Tambli is a South Indian delicacy that is consumed with copious amounts of rice and accompanied by copious amount of slurping. It is often used to change topics or to silence several members of the family (Read: My Dad). To understand the exact effect of Tambli...I quote my dad - "Nannige Anna Tambli Sikkidre Aitu!" (If I get Rice and Tambli, I could settle on the himalayas with nothing but a pair of lungis).
The wedding went off well. And of course, the highlight of the wedding was that I, The Tanmay, suited up for the reception.
We're the other Bhats. The Bhats who've suffered numerous years of mistaken spellings on certificates, receipts, PAY CHEQUES, e-mails, internship letters, PAY CHEQUES and PAY CHEQUES. It must be noted that the Bhat family and the 'Kapur' family are allies.
That piece of information would be absolutely worthless if this was a random post. But this is a post about my sisters wedding, wherein the element of 'Bhat' is significant.
Namrata Bhat, previously known for being my sister, got married on the 12th of January to a sweet little boy known as Sharath Menezes. Obviously, since it is a wedding, several members of the Bhat family went a little beserk for a while, but soon calmed down when a fresh round of tambli was served.
Tambli is a South Indian delicacy that is consumed with copious amounts of rice and accompanied by copious amount of slurping. It is often used to change topics or to silence several members of the family (Read: My Dad). To understand the exact effect of Tambli...I quote my dad - "Nannige Anna Tambli Sikkidre Aitu!" (If I get Rice and Tambli, I could settle on the himalayas with nothing but a pair of lungis).
Right, so, the wedding.
One of the best things that came out of that wedding was that I could take several days off work using a wedding related excuse. For example -
1. Hey, I can't come to work today. Family function is happening. You know, wedding and all. Sorry *click*
2. Hey, I can't make it today... family lunch and pooja and all. See you tommorow. *click*
3. Hey, I can't make it today... something is happening in the... *click*
4. Hey, I can't. Wedding. Sorry. *click*
5. Hey! *click*
Since then, I just started to give missed calls. I figured they'd understand what it meant.
The wedding day was arriving soon and relatives were starting to pour in. Since most of the occupants of the State of Karnataka were now in Seema Society, the govt. of Karnataka declared a bank holiday that day. And of course, in order to celebrate the bank holiday, one more round of tambli was passed around.
The wedding went off well. And of course, the highlight of the wedding was that I, The Tanmay, suited up for the reception.
Getting my suit stitched was nothing short of building a wonder of the world.
Shahajahaan had built the Taj Mahal in memory of his wife.
My family wanted to get the suit stitched thanks to the memory of several formal occasions which I'd graced in nothing but a delightfully breezy pair of shorts and a t-shirt.
While Taj Mahal employed a mere twenty thousand workers from northern India, the act of getting my suit stitched generated employment for millions and millions of people from around the world. In fact, the same engineers who worked on the Sea Link also joined hands to make my suit happen.
Despite losing several good men, the suit was stitched and worn and all went well at the reception.
Despite losing several good men, the suit was stitched and worn and all went well at the reception.
2. The Five Pegs Down Story: A.k.a The Mukesh Ambani Incident.
Ladies and Gentlemen, now I share with you my most prized possession. I share with you my Five Pegs Down Story. You know what I'm talking about. For the un-initiated, the Five Pegs Down Story is the kind of story you only dare share when you are.. well.. five pegs down. Each and every member of the Drinking Party usually shares this story turn by turn. Usually, these stories are punctuated by heavy doses of laughter and are followed by statements such as "FUCK YOU I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!" or "WTF!! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!! OMFGITHINKI'MGOINGTODIELAUGHING!" or "FUCK! I'M TOTALLY GOING TO BLOG ABOUT THIS!". Once a friend yelled out "HOLY SHIT! IF I TELL THIS TO MY MOM SHE'LL NEVER LET ME HANG OUT WITH YOU GUYS EVER AGAIN!". So anyhoo.. the story I'm about to tell you is a Five Pegs Down Story which I usually unload at the very end of the night. This story is so awesome that several friends have died after listening to it. An even higher number of them have committed suicide because of a sudden loss in self esteem brought about by the realization that even if they try really REALLY hard, their life could never reach the level of awesomeness that this story has reached. This story, even though scientists are yet to prove it, is the real cause of Swine Flu.
So yes, let us address the W's of the story:
When?: Late 2008, when Fox Searchlight decided to release a film that instantly catapulted Dharavi from being Asia's biggest slum to A Place So Awesome That Danny Boyle Decided To Make A Film On It. Incase you've been living under Rakhi Sawants now-silicon-less bosom, I'm talking about Slumdog Millionaire.
Where?: Imax. Wadala.
Why?: The good people at Fox Studios decided they wanted to cover in Indian Premiere of Slumdog and hired yours truly as a producer. Yes, this is the very premiere where Anil Kapoor and Danny Boyle did the Bhangra on the red carpet while Aaj Tak and India TV journalists spontaneously orgasmed at the very sigh of a phoren baba going the Punjabi way.
Wasabi?: No thanks. Maybe later.
What happened?: My job involved taking bytes from celebrities, pretending to record bytes of non-celebrities and making Dev Patel jokes while standing right behind a woman who kept giving me dirty looks. Turns out she was Dev Patel's mom. I should've guessed. Her ass looked exactly like his face.
It was a pretty bizarre yet an extremely interesting experience. I spoke to Vikas Swarup, who used some really interesting words to describe Simon Beaufoy's adaption of his book. I ate some free pop-corn and samosa. I saw Frieda Pinto up close, which resulted in projectile vomiting of aforementioned pop-corn. Then took an interview of the vomit and passed it off as an interview with Frieda Pinto. Also, I spoke to the incredibly nice Danny Boyle. here's a little excerpt from that conversation.
Me: Hey! So tell me, which parts did Loveleen shoot?
Danny: She did some bits, which I couldn't be here for.
Me: Oh you mean the bit where Jamal wins the money, which is followed by shots of all those people celebrating in their houses, on the streets etc?
Danny: Yeah. Those bits.
Me: And also the bit where he's ON the way to the studio and random people stop him on the streets and wish him luck?
Danny: Yeah. Those too.
Me: Aah, cool.
Danny: So tell me... how do you know that these shots are in the movie? These weren't in the trailer.
Me: Aah. No. You see, I've seen the movie.
Danny: How did you manage that!? The Indian premiere hasn't even happened yet!
Me: Oh oh. *whistles*
A moment of awkward silence.
Danny Boyle: Did you download the movie from the internet?
Me: Errr.... uhhh.....LOOK! FRED FLINTSTONE!
Danny Boyle: WHERE?! *turns around*
Me: OKGOTTOGOTHANKSBAI. *disappears in stop block*.
Yep, that actually happened.
So anyway, the movie was screened and one by one everybody started coming out of the theatre. Several unsuspecting celebrities were cornered by me as they put on their fake smiles and spoke very highly of the movie that they just saw. If the good people at Fox are reading this, I absolutely enjoyed taking bytes of these celebrities and I absolute did NOT have the urge to randomly zoom the camera into their cleavage. No that didn't happen at all. Not even with Preity Zinta. Or Deepika Padukone. Or Sonam Kapoor. Nope. Not even once.
One such important celebrity was Mr. Mukesh Ambani. Now Mukesh Ambani is a man I did not want to mess around with. Here's a man who owns half of Reliance. A company that will pretty much take over the country. Yes, I do believe that our country will soon be called Reliance India. But more importantly, that man manufactures textile. This means that he probably owns the fabric that is woven in my underwear. And I did NOT want to mess with the man who owns the fine linen that comforts my genitals. Hence, I decided to keep a little distance between me and Mukesh Ambani as I took his byte. Contrary to popular opinion, Mr. Ambani is not a man of few words. As he rambled on about how much he liked the movie, I noticed that an old lady wanted to cross me and Ambani and head towards the exit. I gestured to her to bend over and go from BELOW my elbow, such that she doesn't randomly come in frame. I mean, this was Mukesh Ambani's byte. I could NOT get this wrong. The old lady finally got the hint and she tried to cross over from below my elbow. However, as fate would have it, her head bumped into right elbow. Imagine the next sequence of events in slow motion. The impact of the old lady's head bumping into my elbow, propelled my arm in the direction of Mukesh Ambani's nose. My eyes widened as I saw the hand mike in my hand move with rapid force towards the 5th richest man in the world. And before I knew it, I'd shoved a hand mike bang in the middle of Mukesh Ambani's face.
About 50 people saw what happened and everybody EXCEPT for Mukesh Ambani and me was about to burst into massive, ear splitting-lung-bursting-deafening laughter. However, everybody realised that their underwear too was probably made of the textile that this man manufactures. And you NEVER laugh at somebody who has you by your balls. So everybody pretended like nothing happened. Mr. Ambani an absolute sport about the entire situation. I apologized and he gave me a grin and said "it's okay". Soon, his wife and his bodyguards were by his side, escorting him to the exit.
And that's when it hit me. I just shoved a handmike into Mukesh Ambani's face. It hit him right below his nose, but above his lip. If I'd been an inch higher or lower, I'd have probably either a) bust his lip. or b) broken his nose. If either of that had happened and if it had become serious enough for him to be hospitalized, the stock market would crash. And a LOT of people would lose money. And maybe even commit suicide. And that's when I realized. I just saved a lot of lives.So this is what being a superhero feels like. Nice.
Monday, August 17, 2009
India's Got Talent? Really?
Hello. I'm back! Yes, I know it's been long. I'm really sorry. No really, I'm sorry.
Arrey relax baba. I said I'm sorry na? Now whats there to cry? I apologised na? C'mon, now stop crying. Here, take a tissue.
These things happen in a relationship okay? So just calm down now.
Good.
Now, what was I saying? Oh yes. Where have I been for the past few months? For the three and a half people who care, I was super super busy with work. Or as a friend quite eloquently put it - "Tanmay is pregnant with work.". Following which the aforementioned friend spoke to my imaginary Work Baby whilst stroking my abdomen gently.*
I was busy doing creatives for India's Got More Talent, an ancillary show** for the ubiquitous and immensely popular India's Got Talent. I did this show because it would fulfill several of my professional and personal goals.
Professional goals would include - Working with a super production company like BIG Synergy (not to be confused with Large Synergy or Mammoth Synergy). Owned by quiz master Sidharth Basu, these guys have done the biggest shows on Indian Television.
Personal Goals would include - Booking my lazy boy in hell by working on an Indian reality/talent hunt show and making eager contestants do things so evil that it that would give Satan a big bad boner.
It's true folks, if you've worked on a reality show made for Indian Television...you're most definitely going to hell. And I had this epiphany while conducting auditions in Delhi.
It was a hot hot day in the capital. Our team, including me, had just got our set of walkies and since I am a restless retard, I was busy messing around with the frequency on my set.
Suddenly, I get buzzed on my ear phones:
Voice: CONTESTANT NO.53 IS FAINTING! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME! I REPEAT! CONTESTANT NO. 53 IS FAINTING!
Now, this was none of my business because the contestant team usually handles these sorta situations. However, I hung on JUST to know what happened next.
Nobody buzzed back for almost half a minute. And then the walkie buzzed again.
VOICE: IS ANYBODY HERE! I REPEAT CONTESTANT NO.53 IS FAINTING! CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME? IF THERE'S ANYBODY ON THIS FREQUENCY, COULD YOU PLEASE GET HERE AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE! THIS IS SERIOUS! A CONTESTANT IS FAINTING!
Still no reply.
I started getting slightly uneasy. I wanted to hit the panic button.. but then I realised that it's just a phrase and in fact there is no such button.
Before I tell you what happened next I need you guys to understand that at that moment I was a producer on the show and that I was In The Zone. I was in shoot-mode. So yes, don't you dare judge me.
So I pressed the talk-back button and said -
ME: HELLO! TANMAY HERE! I CAN HEAR YOU! WHAT FLOOR ARE YOU ON?
VOICE: I'M ON THE SECOND FLOOR! GET HERE AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE, PLEASE!
ME: I'M ON MY WAY. GIVE ME A MINUTE.
VOICE: OKAY, COME QUICK.
ME: LISTEN! ONE QUICK QUESTION!
VOICE: YEAH?!
ME: SHOULD I GET FOOD OR SHOULD I GET A CAMERA?
Silence. For a moment I thought I was fired. Then -
VOICE: ....UHH... GET BOTH!
ME: GOT IT! I'M ON MY WAY!
Now you know why everybody who works in television is going to hell. And if it wasn't for this.. we have Rakhi Ka Swayamvar which is more than enough to guarantee every television employee an invitation to Satan's freshers party.
That's it for today folks. Will update often from now on. Pass this onto your entire friends list or you will die a very very painful death. Goodnight.
*Needless to say I'm not friends with this person anymore.
** In other words.. we were the bastard children of Viacom18.
Arrey relax baba. I said I'm sorry na? Now whats there to cry? I apologised na? C'mon, now stop crying. Here, take a tissue.
These things happen in a relationship okay? So just calm down now.
Good.
Now, what was I saying? Oh yes. Where have I been for the past few months? For the three and a half people who care, I was super super busy with work. Or as a friend quite eloquently put it - "Tanmay is pregnant with work.". Following which the aforementioned friend spoke to my imaginary Work Baby whilst stroking my abdomen gently.*
I was busy doing creatives for India's Got More Talent, an ancillary show** for the ubiquitous and immensely popular India's Got Talent. I did this show because it would fulfill several of my professional and personal goals.
Professional goals would include - Working with a super production company like BIG Synergy (not to be confused with Large Synergy or Mammoth Synergy). Owned by quiz master Sidharth Basu, these guys have done the biggest shows on Indian Television.
Personal Goals would include - Booking my lazy boy in hell by working on an Indian reality/talent hunt show and making eager contestants do things so evil that it that would give Satan a big bad boner.
It's true folks, if you've worked on a reality show made for Indian Television...you're most definitely going to hell. And I had this epiphany while conducting auditions in Delhi.
It was a hot hot day in the capital. Our team, including me, had just got our set of walkies and since I am a restless retard, I was busy messing around with the frequency on my set.
Suddenly, I get buzzed on my ear phones:
Voice: CONTESTANT NO.53 IS FAINTING! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME! I REPEAT! CONTESTANT NO. 53 IS FAINTING!
Now, this was none of my business because the contestant team usually handles these sorta situations. However, I hung on JUST to know what happened next.
Nobody buzzed back for almost half a minute. And then the walkie buzzed again.
VOICE: IS ANYBODY HERE! I REPEAT CONTESTANT NO.53 IS FAINTING! CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME? IF THERE'S ANYBODY ON THIS FREQUENCY, COULD YOU PLEASE GET HERE AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE! THIS IS SERIOUS! A CONTESTANT IS FAINTING!
Still no reply.
I started getting slightly uneasy. I wanted to hit the panic button.. but then I realised that it's just a phrase and in fact there is no such button.
Before I tell you what happened next I need you guys to understand that at that moment I was a producer on the show and that I was In The Zone. I was in shoot-mode. So yes, don't you dare judge me.
So I pressed the talk-back button and said -
ME: HELLO! TANMAY HERE! I CAN HEAR YOU! WHAT FLOOR ARE YOU ON?
VOICE: I'M ON THE SECOND FLOOR! GET HERE AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE, PLEASE!
ME: I'M ON MY WAY. GIVE ME A MINUTE.
VOICE: OKAY, COME QUICK.
ME: LISTEN! ONE QUICK QUESTION!
VOICE: YEAH?!
ME: SHOULD I GET FOOD OR SHOULD I GET A CAMERA?
Silence. For a moment I thought I was fired. Then -
VOICE: ....UHH... GET BOTH!
ME: GOT IT! I'M ON MY WAY!
Now you know why everybody who works in television is going to hell. And if it wasn't for this.. we have Rakhi Ka Swayamvar which is more than enough to guarantee every television employee an invitation to Satan's freshers party.
That's it for today folks. Will update often from now on. Pass this onto your entire friends list or you will die a very very painful death. Goodnight.
*Needless to say I'm not friends with this person anymore.
** In other words.. we were the bastard children of Viacom18.
*** Also, the author cannot guarentee the authenticity of this story. (Just in case the good folks at synergy read this and decide to sue me :-))
Thursday, April 09, 2009
The KBC Story
Somewhere at the end of 1999, Rakesh, a production guy at Synergy, (the production house that produced KBC) created the money tree for a quiz game show. The tree started at Rs. 1000 and ended at rupees 1,00,000. Rakesh smiled. In other words, he changed his facial expression by spreading the lips, to signal pleasure.
His colleagues stood around him, all marveling at the fact that the game show, Kaun Banega Lakhpati, would ACTUALLY give away a lakh for anyone who could answer just 15 questions. It's that effing simple!
Some wondered if the channel, Star Plus, had enough money to fund such a large prize money. Some wondered if Siddharth Basu would be able to hold the show as an anchor.
Meanwhile, Mr. Siddharth Basu was sitting in a meeting with the channel at Synergy main office in Delhi.
Star Plus Official: Mr. Basu I'm afraid you won't be anchoring the show.
SB: Oh really? You think I can't anchor a show?
SPO: No Mr. Basu.... actually.. -
SB: Have you even SEEEEN India's Child Genius?
SPO: I have Mr. Basu, but -
SB: Have you not HEARD my deep enchanting and sexy voice? HUH punk?!
SPO: No it's not that Mr. Basu. We've just found somebody else to host the show.
SB: OHHH! Is that so? Who is it? Who's this guy? Has he hosted a tv show before?
SPO: Uhh, I'm afraid not.
SB: AHA! So this nooob thought he could replace ME?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
SPO: Sir, Mr. Amitabh Bachchan is replacing you.
*Long LONG silence goes here*
SB: Oh.
SPO: BURNNNNNNNNNNN BITCH! IN YOUR FACE! AHA! BURNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!
Meanwhile, Rakesh and his co workers were just about to call it a day when the land line rings.
Rakesh: Hello?
SB: Ummm, Rakesh?
Rakesh: Yes sir.
SB: You finished the money tree?
Rakesh: Yes sir. It's all ready. Starts at a thousand, ends at a lakh. 15 steps.
SB: Yyyyaaaa.... that's not gonna work.
Rakesh: I knew it! I knew the channel couldn't afford it! I mean, 15 questions and 1 lakh! It's ridiculous!
SB: Yyyyyyaaaaaa...Rakesh...The shows..uhh.. now called.... Kaun Banega Crorepati. The prize money is 1 crore.
His colleagues stood around him, all marveling at the fact that the game show, Kaun Banega Lakhpati, would ACTUALLY give away a lakh for anyone who could answer just 15 questions. It's that effing simple!
Some wondered if the channel, Star Plus, had enough money to fund such a large prize money. Some wondered if Siddharth Basu would be able to hold the show as an anchor.
Meanwhile, Mr. Siddharth Basu was sitting in a meeting with the channel at Synergy main office in Delhi.
Star Plus Official: Mr. Basu I'm afraid you won't be anchoring the show.
SB: Oh really? You think I can't anchor a show?
SPO: No Mr. Basu.... actually.. -
SB: Have you even SEEEEN India's Child Genius?
SPO: I have Mr. Basu, but -
SB: Have you not HEARD my deep enchanting and sexy voice? HUH punk?!
SPO: No it's not that Mr. Basu. We've just found somebody else to host the show.
SB: OHHH! Is that so? Who is it? Who's this guy? Has he hosted a tv show before?
SPO: Uhh, I'm afraid not.
SB: AHA! So this nooob thought he could replace ME?! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
SPO: Sir, Mr. Amitabh Bachchan is replacing you.
*Long LONG silence goes here*
SB: Oh.
SPO: BURNNNNNNNNNNN BITCH! IN YOUR FACE! AHA! BURNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!
Meanwhile, Rakesh and his co workers were just about to call it a day when the land line rings.
Rakesh: Hello?
SB: Ummm, Rakesh?
Rakesh: Yes sir.
SB: You finished the money tree?
Rakesh: Yes sir. It's all ready. Starts at a thousand, ends at a lakh. 15 steps.
SB: Yyyyaaaa.... that's not gonna work.
Rakesh: I knew it! I knew the channel couldn't afford it! I mean, 15 questions and 1 lakh! It's ridiculous!
SB: Yyyyyyaaaaaa...Rakesh...The shows..uhh.. now called.... Kaun Banega Crorepati. The prize money is 1 crore.
Friday, April 03, 2009
Why English Lyrics Shouldn't Be A Part Of Bollywood Songs
It's been a busy couple of months. Proper update shall come soon. But until then... here's an old piece which I wrote for JLT.
1.English lyrics confuses people. Take that song ‘Mind blowing mahiya’ for example. I actually thought the song went like this – Do you mind blownig Mahiya? But then, I am a perverted boy who likes to hump inanimate objects.
2.How would you like it if main hindi words daaly in an english article? Pasand aayega to you? Nahi no? Then why the hell would you want to daal angrezi shabd in a hindi gana?
3.Forget songs, even MOVIES with English sub titles sound awful. Let’s take as an example, the unbelievably awful Sanjay Dut starrer, Daag - The Fire. Such complicated titles will not only confuse people about the meanings of the word ‘daag’ and ‘fire’. They will also question the quality of genes that the producer’s parents passed on to the producer.
4.Tashan’s latest track – Dil dance Maare is an absolute genius of an example that demonstrates what English lyrics can do to a hindi song. We can call it the human equivalent of ‘rape’ or ‘molestation’ multiplied by twenty four. In fact, if we observe carefully, little blood comes out of your ear everytime you listen to that track.
5.English lyrics in hindi songs drive human faeces like Anu Malik to singing. Remember that song ‘Dekho Baarish Ho Rahi Hai! It’s raining! It’s raining! It’s raining!’ I’m sure you do remember. In fact, I’m so sure about this because I myself remember this song purely because of its obvious nature. Has there been a more educational song? Notice carefully how the song translates every hindi sentence into English. ‘Mera Dil Ro Raha Hai! My heart is paining, it’s paining it’s paining!’. Genius, pure fucking genius.
6.We have previously seen the after effects of mixing two languages in art. For example, when Dunston Checks In was renamed, it was called Ek Bandar Hotel Ke Andar. Till date, several people have died laughing on merely seeing the name of the film.
7.One of the main reasons why I am against the use of English lyrics in Hindi songs is due to the fear of the inclusion of other languages in hindi songs in the future. I would literally throw up if I heard the use of French in a hindi song. For example – Chez nous le heart le dard du disco or in Spanish – Jab bhi koi ladki dekho mera dil diwana bole Ole Ole Ole Ole Ole Ole!
8.Nowadays the west is copying our music. So if they copy any of our tracks which have English lyrics, we’re done for. Soon, we can expect Shakira go all – I’m on tonight kyunki mera pichwada jhoot nahi bolta! Or worse, if Eminem does an 8 Mile in hindi – Uske haath hai heavy, knees weak palm hai sweaty, uski shirt pe hai ulti, mom ki spaghetti….
9.When English lyrics are used, it’s not just the song that is messed up, it’s the video too. I mean, curse me if you want to, but watching Abhishek Bachchan trying to rap some nonsense is just not pleasing to the eye or the Islets of langerhans. (PS: The song I’m referring to is from the movie Bluffmaster)
10.And last, but not the least, because Stone Cold said so.
1.English lyrics confuses people. Take that song ‘Mind blowing mahiya’ for example. I actually thought the song went like this – Do you mind blownig Mahiya? But then, I am a perverted boy who likes to hump inanimate objects.
2.How would you like it if main hindi words daaly in an english article? Pasand aayega to you? Nahi no? Then why the hell would you want to daal angrezi shabd in a hindi gana?
3.Forget songs, even MOVIES with English sub titles sound awful. Let’s take as an example, the unbelievably awful Sanjay Dut starrer, Daag - The Fire. Such complicated titles will not only confuse people about the meanings of the word ‘daag’ and ‘fire’. They will also question the quality of genes that the producer’s parents passed on to the producer.
4.Tashan’s latest track – Dil dance Maare is an absolute genius of an example that demonstrates what English lyrics can do to a hindi song. We can call it the human equivalent of ‘rape’ or ‘molestation’ multiplied by twenty four. In fact, if we observe carefully, little blood comes out of your ear everytime you listen to that track.
5.English lyrics in hindi songs drive human faeces like Anu Malik to singing. Remember that song ‘Dekho Baarish Ho Rahi Hai! It’s raining! It’s raining! It’s raining!’ I’m sure you do remember. In fact, I’m so sure about this because I myself remember this song purely because of its obvious nature. Has there been a more educational song? Notice carefully how the song translates every hindi sentence into English. ‘Mera Dil Ro Raha Hai! My heart is paining, it’s paining it’s paining!’. Genius, pure fucking genius.
6.We have previously seen the after effects of mixing two languages in art. For example, when Dunston Checks In was renamed, it was called Ek Bandar Hotel Ke Andar. Till date, several people have died laughing on merely seeing the name of the film.
7.One of the main reasons why I am against the use of English lyrics in Hindi songs is due to the fear of the inclusion of other languages in hindi songs in the future. I would literally throw up if I heard the use of French in a hindi song. For example – Chez nous le heart le dard du disco or in Spanish – Jab bhi koi ladki dekho mera dil diwana bole Ole Ole Ole Ole Ole Ole!
8.Nowadays the west is copying our music. So if they copy any of our tracks which have English lyrics, we’re done for. Soon, we can expect Shakira go all – I’m on tonight kyunki mera pichwada jhoot nahi bolta! Or worse, if Eminem does an 8 Mile in hindi – Uske haath hai heavy, knees weak palm hai sweaty, uski shirt pe hai ulti, mom ki spaghetti….
9.When English lyrics are used, it’s not just the song that is messed up, it’s the video too. I mean, curse me if you want to, but watching Abhishek Bachchan trying to rap some nonsense is just not pleasing to the eye or the Islets of langerhans. (PS: The song I’m referring to is from the movie Bluffmaster)
10.And last, but not the least, because Stone Cold said so.