I’d like to start today’s column with a very important announcement… I know most of you are expecting me to reveal my true identity as Batman, but no, the time for that sort of thing is not ripe yet, as I am still waiting for N Srinivasan to do something diabolical and Penguin-like. It should happen any day now, though, so fingers crossed.
What I have to say is only a few notches below that on the magnitude scale so don’t worry and brace yourselves; I have developed,over the course of time, deep and abiding feelings for one Balam Pichkari song, which has taken the nation by storm and will remain in my ‘4.00 a.m. on a SaturdayMorning’ playlist for many a millennia to come… or the next two months at least, until Ranbir takes his shirt off in some song and I have no choice.
I was already infatuated with Badtameez Dil when Balam Pichkari came along, and took me completely by surprise with its infectious beats and nonsense lyrics. Before I knew it, my feet were moving of their own accord and the rest, as they say, is history that no one really gives a cat’s meow about.
Balam Pichkari has managed to do what few other recent songs have; drag Bollywood kicking and screaming to its musical roots. Throughout my childhood, tweens and a few of my teenage tears, the songs that stick out the most are the ones I could get up and dance to – Ek Do Teen, Yeh Kaali Kaali Aankhen, Ankhiyan Milaoon, Saajanji Ghar Aaye, Bole Chudiyan, Kajra Re. These are the songs that define my generation, and let me tell you a little secret - no matter how many times we add “dubstep” to our list of favourite musical genres on Facebook, if we’re born in the ‘80s, we know how to Chak Dhoom Dhoom.
Bollywood music in the past decade has been an endlessly auto-tuned, trendy amalgamation of whatever the world thought was cool. First we had random brown-men-pretending-to-be-white-men-pretending-to-be-black-men rapping in the background, and now there’s electro pop or dubstep, threatening to screech its way into our eardrums no matter which radio station we’re listening to. While we’re not busy trying to embrace fads, we’re either banking on salacious names and in-one-and-out-the-other-earworm beats, like Badmaash Babli and Balma, and nothing is really making an impression, with a few exceptions. Songs like Hookah Bar especially anger me; blatantly lifted from a popular Chris Brown song and left to marinate in our consciousness until we have no option but to accept it. Shame on you Himesh. Go stand in a corner.
Balam Pichkari manages to hark back to those days of Madhuri, when Bollywood was about thumkas and pelvic thrusts, and effortlessly slips into its Batman costume – like Bruce Wayne, who may or may not be my alter ego – to save music. The same album also has the awesome Ghaagra, which features my future husband and my mentor at the same time, so I hope you’ve watched the video and danced along, just like me. Now after many years, I am going to watch a movie in the theatre just to see the songs on the big-screen, so if you spot a maniac being electrocuted in a corner during Yeh Jaawani Hai Deewani, be sure to stop and say hi!