A longtime sari wearer reacts to 'Sari Ke Fall Sa' from R...Rajkumar

By Mashima (As told to Deepanjana Pal) Look, I’ll listen to this song you’re telling me to hear, but let us just be clear about one thing: colour killed cinema. Black and white was real cinema. Everything that has followed is just Hollywood-branded opium for the masses. Oh, and the last real film star India had was Uttam Kumar. What a face! And such style! [caption id=“attachment_1268563” align=“alignleft” width=“380”]  A screengrab from the video of Sari Ke Fall Sa.[/caption] Ok, we’ll watch this video. What is the film? Rajkumar? What do you mean ‘R…Rajkumar’? What does that mean? A really, really slow stammer? That’s not style. It must mean something. Maybe the director is trying to teach people the alphabet. Did his last film begin with Q? (Prabhu Deva’s last two Hindi films were Rowdy Rathore and Ramaiya Vastavaiya.) Both those titles begin with R. This is like a stream of consciousness title: R for? R for… R… Rajkumar! Ok, ok. We’ll listen to the song. It’s a video. Good heavens. The internet? Wait, I’ll have to call Poochkay from next door. Poochkay connects me to the internet. [turning away from phone receiver] POOCHKAAAY! INTAARNATE TA KOREY DEY BABA! [literal translation: Poochkay dear, make the internet for me.] No, it’s not just clicking a button. First, there are lots of buttons. Then it makes noises, asks for things, like passwords and what not. It’s all very complicated. Just wait. Poochkay’s very good at all this technical stuff. Yes of course Poochkay knows all my passwords. How else would I get your emails? How old is.. oh Poochkay’s seven. Very bright. There, see. We’re online. Now what? Poochkay, don’t go. Just talk here and find out what website to Googles. [After some chatting and clicking, YouTube is reached and the video finally loads.]

Ei, didn’t she play the Bengali girl in that Lootera film? See? I keep up with the programmes. Bah. Very pretty face. Who’s the boy? Good heavens. That’s Karamchand’s son? Why is he dancing to a camel? Just now he had a lovely girl, they even shared choomoos and then he turns and starts lurching towards a camel? Oh thank god. He’s dancing with the girl again. What? Yes, Sonakshi. That’s her name. Thank you. I’d forgotten. Rubbish. I’m not calling her a woman. Of course she’s a girl. She’s young enough to be my grand daughter. What’s the boy’s name? Shahid. Ok. Is this a fantasy film? No, I’m just asking because I’m seeing gigantic rolls of toilet paper in the background. And who is that man in pink jumping around in the back? One camel, one backup dancer who doubles up as an ektara player, how cheaply was this film made? Fine, fine, I’ll focus on the song. Sari ke fall sa kabhi match kiya re Kabhi chhod diya dil, kabhi catch kiya re. This is a song about sari falls! I see why you wanted me to talk about this song. I know a thing or two about sari falls. I have, after all, been wearing saris for the last 40 years and I’ve always matched the falls to my saris perfectly. I used to sew them on myself when I was young. The stitches would be this tiny. You’d never be able to tell just looking at my sari that it had a fall at all, but with the fall, the drape is so balanced and elegant. Nowadays I get Masterji to put the falls on. Falls, they’re absolutely essential. It’s not just about protecting the border, it really gives the fabric of the sari a nice weight at the bottom so that it falls nicely. See, now you see why we call it ‘fall’? And by the way, this “kabhi match” business is nonsense. You must always make sure the fall matches. Otherwise it looks very cheap and ugly to have a different-coloured band at the bottom of your sari. And a good tailor will make sure that the fall is stitched to your sari using small and secure stitches. I’m not sure what the fall has to do with this heart that is being caught and dropped, but the fall has to catch nothing. It must simply stay attached. I presume that’s the metaphor he’s speaking of when he sings, “T_ouch kar ke dil se dil attach kiya re_.” Saaya, jab se mila tera saaya Bhaaya… Stop, stop. What is this! He gave her his petticoat? Why was he wearing a petticoat? Listen, I’m very liberal, I’ve watched Rituparno films, but I draw the line at men wearing petticoats. I’m not imagining it! She just said “jab se mila tera shaaya”. [Note: ‘Shaaya’ in Bengali means petticoat.] Don’t tell me this is a Hindi song. ‘Attach’, ‘match’, these are not Hindi words. And ‘bhaaya’ is very much a Bengali word. [Note: ‘Bhaaya’ is an old Bengali colloquialism that roughly translates to ‘buddy’.] But it makes no sense even if I accept your theory that she’s using it as a Hindi word. Then she’s saying she was charmed by his shadow. Really, your generation makes no sense. I’m not listening to any more of this. This is just a blatant and shameless attempt at using saris and falls to lure in unsuspecting people like me. We’ll go in there expecting to hear a little bit about weaves, fabrics; maybe see a few new designs. Instead I’m seeing massive rolls of toilet paper and hearing the kind of lyrics that make Dr. Seuss sound like Wordsworth. That Sonakshi, she isn’t even wearing a sari in the song! Thank god I didn’t ask Masterji to come and see the song with me, like you’d said I should. Just look at that Shahid boy. He couldn’t even shave before showing up for a film. This, this is just more proof for what I said before: the last real film star was Uttam Kumar. Give me your address. I’m sending you a VCD of Harano Sur.