Tagged: funny

Getting educated at Bollywood: Woh toh theek hai magar woh kab karenge!?

Thankfully, this note is not a commentary on the state of education in our country. I am too lowly a guy to screw around with our education system. Arindam Chaudhuri does a great job of that already. In any case, if somebody like me can construct complete sentences which are comprehensible in nature, guess they have not done too bad a job of educating us.

(Also, I just casually slipped in the 14-lettered ‘comprehensible’ to come across as oh-so-nonchalantly-intelligent and ah-so-indifferently-elegant. I am good. Going forward, I intend to use the word ‘lollapalooza’ somewhere in this note. And a whole load of adverbs once I finally get to understand what they are. Hopefully. Honestly. Lovely.)

But this note is not about my education, or the lack of it. This is about the state of learning and training in Bollywood. And it is a very serious topic. So finger on your lips, class! Hindi Cinema does take its education pretty seriously. Like, critically seriously. Case in point: Maa, main paas ho gaya hoon and the subsequent spillover of pathos, melodrama and the extreme theatrics in white sari. I really fail to understand either the son’s excitement or the mother’s surge of emotions on her goddamn idiot of an offspring securing barely enough marks to just pass the exam. He has not got a first class first, woman, so stop with that quivering of the lips already! It is a third division with KTs, and your son, obviously, never liked his books. Why, he must be one of the dumbest guys in his class. Neither he, nor his scores are either to be excited about or proud of. While you were going all vidhwa and stitching clothes and avoiding getting raped by Thakur, your good-for-nothing son was whiling away his time in random shit. DO YOU GET IT NOW, DO YOU?

But then again, if your mother is Nirupa Roy, I would not blame you for whiling away your time.

And. Moral of the story. Hindi Cinema does take its education pretty seriously. So much so that Sadhna Sargam actually rues the closure of the college in the 1992 fim Jaan Tere Naam. Kal College Band Ho Jaayega is reflective of the collective angst of the young generation pining for quality education, highlighting its hopes, dreams and aspirations. Kal college band ho jaayega, tum apne ghar ko jaaoge. Phi ek ladka ek ladki se juda ho jaayega. Woh mil nahin paayega. If you ever thought this song was a love ballad, I am going to judge you and your insensitivity and shed a tear or two for the young India.

Of course, there are black sheep who rejoice at the thought of the college getting shut, singing and dancing to celebrate the closure. Jeetendra croons Aaj Se College Band Hai in the 1979 film Khandan, and his long-haired friends wearing printed shirts join in the revelry with jolly impulsiveness. Yaaron aao. Khushi Manao. Aaj se college band hai. Aaj se college band hai. Halla gulla. Shor machao. Aaj se college band hai. Aaj se college band hai. For those who want to make this song the anthem of their lives, a word of caution, though. If you do not study, your future generation may end up making Kyonkii Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi. Or worse, they may look like Tusshar Kapoor.

Just curious, but didn’t the concept of bunking classes exist in 1979? If the college shutting down for the vacations excited the boys so much, I am sure some of them would have died after having sex for the first time. But Jeetendra and friends still get the grace marks, considering there are some students who don’t even know College kehan hai. SP Balasubramaniam sings for them in the 2001 release Yehi Toh Pyar Hai. College kehan hai jaane na. Class chal rahi jaane na. Kya hai padhai jaane na. Desh mein kya hua jaane na. Jaanat hai soniya soniya kudiyan. Pyaar mein hai khushiyan khushiyan khushiyan. But it isn’t this tandoori-dosa mix – SP singing soniya and kudiya, that is – which makes it such a great college song. What follows the first few lines of the song must be the most amazing, the most enthusiastic, the most energetic, the most cheerful exultation of the youthful spirit EVER in the history of Hindi films. Chiraju Juku Buku Luku Le. Didn’t get it? CHIRAJU JUKU BUKU LUKU LE.

I know you are missing it already.

There are a few truisms attached to all colleges in Hindi cinema. First, girls are meant to be teased. Second, romance is meant to happen. Third, I love the way I randomly use the word Truism without even knowing its usage. So you have chhed-chhad songs ranging from Thoda ruk jayegi toh tera kya jayega (Patanga, 1971. Though it is not picturized inside the college, Vimmi, the heroine, is either going to or coming from one, carrying textbooks) to Haai meri amma (Jaal, 1986) to Khud ko kya samajhti hai, kitna akadti hai (Khiladi, 1992) to Gori gori oh baanki chhori (Shola aur Shabnam, 1992, sung by Govinda, no less) to Shava yeh nakhra gori ka (Suhaag, 1994) and many more that would fit into the same mould. 1990s perhaps represented the golden age of eve-teasing, with every second hero, and even Ronit Roy, Avinash Wadhawan and Harish, going at it. So much so that the 1990 release Dil could boast of two such songs, Khambe jaisi khadi hai ladki hai ya chhadi hai and Aaj na chhodunga tujhe dam dama dam. In completely unrelated news, Ruchika Girhotra got molested in 1990, Priyadarshni Mattu was raped in 1996 and Jessica Lal got killed in 1999. :|

Of course, the boys are allowed to be as crass and vulgar as they would want to be. But the girls have to be the Bhartiya nari everywhere, including colleges. God forbid, if some girl isn’t one, she should be well prepared to hear everybody whisper Dekho Dekho College Mein Ek Ladki Aayi Hai judging her, her attire and her character. This is it, give or take a few Sri Ram Senes. Dekho dekho college mein ek ladki aayi hai. Sharam haya bhi dekh ke issko sharmaayi hai. Or this is how Kumar Sanu and Udit Narayan go on with their tirade, demeaning the poor girl because of her choice of clothing. And I would not mince my words, I am simply appalled at this. I am aghast, disgusted and totally revolted even thinking that there exists a college which has both Kumar Sanu and Udit Narayan on its roster. Sick it is!

The second commonly found college songs are those which commemorate the love discovered in the campus. From the obscure Sunday ko pyaar hua from Kanyadaan (1968) to Jise dekh mera dil dhadka, meri jaan tadapti hai from Phool aur Kaante (1991) to Koi mil gaya and Yeh ladka hai diwana from Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (1998) to Gori Gori from Main Hoon Na (2004), these are emotional representations of the beauty of love in varied forms and intensity, despite the big words that I just used. And this love is even more passionate when the plea is to the College Girl. College Girl, I Love You. I love you, love you, love you. I love you, love you, love you. Mere dil mein hai kuch, tere dil mein hai kuch, mujhse nazar mila, oh dilruba. And we aren’t talking just any college girl here. Or wait a second, we are. Erm.

Apparently, being a College Girl is a big thing in Hindi Cinema. There have been three movies by the name of College Girl, made in 1960, 1978 and 1990 respectively. Then there was College Kanya made way back in 1935, starring one Madhuri. And this is where I start seeing my grandfather in an entirely new light. Yours, too. I am including the next two songs only to make you realize that your parents and their parents also went to college. And that they are not as dumb as you think they are. The first song is from the original College Girl of 1960 where Shammi Kapoor cutely explains what life is all about. Yeh Kaalej Ka Zamana. Yeh hasna hasana. Yeh banna banana. Yeh din zindagi ke. Ajab bekhudi ke… Subah sabere cycle ki kataren. Gunchon ki aur kaliyon ki takraaren. Na maathe pe pasina, na dil mein koi seena. Yahi toh hai yahi toh hai yahi toh pyaare jeena. Haha. Your parents and their parents were so dumb!
The second song is an Asha Bhosle number from Adhikar (1954), which has a fairly pertinent question, relevant even in today’s times. BA MA PhD BT BCom BSc. Degree le kar baithe hain sab, karenge kya ab socho ji. Socho ji. Bolo ji. The answer, of course, is simple. Join a call center. Bad working hours, average salary, lousy future prospects, but hey, at least you get to develop an accent. Socho ji.

But back to the College Girl of the 1990s, Amita Nangia stood for the transformed Indian woman. Naye zamane ne karvat badli hai, nayi manzilon ki talaash mein nikli hai. College Girl. College Girl. College Girl. Till she gets raped, that is. And then she puts on her leather pants, wears her favourite Jayaprada wig, shows her cleavage and kills everybody. Not kidding.

Come to think of it, I would not blame the lads for getting so enamoured by the College Ki Beauty. She sure can be ruthless while disturbing the peace of mind of the young men. Which totally justifies the boys’ resolve to get her cheeks burnt. No, really. Burnt. College ki beauty ne, ek sundar baby ne, loota mera chain haai. Aai haai. Yeh hai anaar, aur hum beemar, thoda manane do. Gusse mein gaal, hue hain laal, thoda jalaane do. Haaaaan. Any surprises that the song is from the 1994 film titled Anokha Premyudh?
To be fair to the young men, it isn’t as if they don’t ask the College Ki Ladkiyon to take it easy. Udit Narayan does all that he can to control the womenfolk of his college to go all amorous on him in Yeh Dil Aashiqanaa (2002). Ai meri, natkhati, college ki ladkiyon, ladkiyon. Yun mohabbat se mujhko na dekha karo. Meri chahat meri aarzoo ke liye apni masumiyat ko na rusva karo. I would love to be in that college where the girls let go of their innocence because of their extreme urges to eventually consummate with Udit Narayan. I would be the top scorer there. PS: You had me at natkhati, sir.

Obviously, if you find the girls natkhati, you would want to do Do Dooni Chaar with them. Nostalgia hits Govinda as he talks about that one time, perhaps the only time ever in his life, he went to college in the 1990 film Mahasangram. Ek din college gaya tha, mil gayi ladki hansi. Maine yeh socha kar doon ishara, ladki hansi toh phansi. Phir? Do dooni chaar hua re, pyaar hua pyaar hua re. This song gives you life lessons. If the girl gives you a smile, you have crossed the last mile. Now that there is pyaar, there has to be do dooni chaar. Therefore, always keep your bed-sheets clean.

Educationists talk about how the power of positive thinking can actually give life to one’s dreams. Or at least it does sound like something the educationists would want to talk about. Ronit Roy seems to be knowing them well enough. For this is what he croons in the 1990 release Jaan Tere Naam with his perceptive thoughts, hoping for a Romance Period. Mana ki college mein padhna chahiye, likhna chahiye padhna chahiye, romance ka bhi ek lecture hona chahiye. Jo ho romance period, love and dance period. For the record, he did achieve his dreams fifteen years later when he happily posed against an adiposed Smriti Irani in some K-onslaught on TV. It was period romance at its best.

Similar wishful thinking gets echoed in the 1993 film Santaan where Deepak Tijori and Neelam make a case for College Mein Honi Chahiye Pyaar Ki Padhai while preparing themselves for the Navratri dandia nights. Rumour has it that Falguni Pathak makes a public embarrassment of herself and her panchhida every time she listens to the garba beats of this song. Mera kehna mano mere bhai. College mein honi chahiye pyaar ki paadhai. Charo ore se yahi khabar aayi. College mein honi chahiye pyaar ki padhaai. Let me confess here that I am yet to figure what exactly is pyaar ki padhaai. Unless they are insisting on an interdisciplinary scientific study of human sexuality, including human sexual interests, behavior and function. What a bunch of freaks, I swear.

What do you do when the lecture gets cancelled? Barah Se Class Nahin, you are told. And you get the opportunity to entice your girl with your charisma, sophistication and charm. Here’s how you go about it if you starred in the movie Durga (2002). Barah se class nahin, chalo jaayen ghoome kahin, dhabe pe jayenge, dono khana khayenge. Okay, so let us revisit this situation. Here you are, trying to woo this girl. Fortunately for you, there is no lecture, you get your big chance, and the best you can do is to take her to some dhaba!? Like, really, dude? When you said you had no class, guess you meant your own. You deserve the reply that comes to you. Class nahin barah se toh tere saath kyon main jaaun. Kisi dhaabe pe jaake khana bhi main kyon khaun? Saath kyon chalun. Ho tere saath kyon chalun? Smart girl. Despite the inherent crassness in her voice.

Quite a few of these college songs actually are insightful case-studies in understanding and appreciating the power equation amongst the sexes. Sample this. The boy is being an idiot, as boys typically are. Tu na mili dil padhaai mein laga nahin. Ek bhi din bin tere college gaya nahin. I was so correct about the idiot bit. The girl, not surprisingly, gives him a rather terse and straightforward answer, puncturing his pronounced moronic machismo with élan. Din hain padhne likhne ke tum aahen bhar rahe. Fees maa baap ki barbaad kar rahe. Attagirl! Not bad at all. And then. They all. Fuck it up. By singing, I am just about to give up on my life, In The Morning By The Sea.

The only time I use a rumaal is when I have a runny nose. Precisely why I would never strike lucky. Because rumaal can actually be a metaphor for… OMG, I am actually using the word ‘metaphor’ in a sentence! And now, for the life of me, I cannot remember the point I was about to make on this song from the 1992 film Dulaara. Fuck. The girl loses her rumaal, Kal Kahin College Mein, and she then starts singing about it. Because that’s the normal thing to do, right. Kal kahin college mein mera ek rumaal kho gaya. Jisspe likha tha naam, kisi ka naam saathiya. O bolo bolo ab kya karen, o bolo bolo ab kya karen. In an ideal scenario, I would have asked her to go to the lost-and-found guys, but why be a cheaptard trying to retrieve a used kerchief. When you very well know some other cheaptard would find it, and, hell, sing as loudly about it as you were. Kal wahin college mein mujhe ek rumaal mil gaya. Jisspe likha tha naam, mera naam, saathiya. Toh bolo bolo ab kya karen, ho bolo bolo ab kya karen. You really need an answer to that!? It is a used rumaal which has felt some other human person’s body fluids and mucus, you fool, JUST DON’T TOUCH IT!

Btw, if you thought it was just about some song and dance to make that girl from your class like you, you cannot be farther away from the truth. Contrary to popular beliefs, there is a science attached to this entire process. Get that flowchart right and things would flow the way you would want. Agar Ladki Ka Dil Churana Hai, follow Sonu Nigam’s advice in this strange effeminately-masculine voice that he tried for Tusshar Kapoor – I would not blame Sonu – in the 2003 release Yeh Dil. College mein usse bulana, teacher se nazar bachana, yaaron ko nahin batana gar ladki ka dil churana hai. Haathon mein gulab rakhna, baazu mein kitaab rakhna hai, haazir tum jawaab rakhna gar ladki ka dil churana hai. This is it. Now name your first born after me.

Of course, when there is a college romance, people talk about it. The song Pyaar Ka Chakkar Hai Yeh Hai Na from Saath Saath (1982) contains what may just be the most delightfully cute gossiping around a budding college love story. College ka ek ladka hai aur college ki ek ladki. Nain mile aur unnke dil mein ek chingari bhadki. Pyaar ka chakkar hai yeh hai na. Dekho kisi se na kehna. Listen to the song to appreciate the innocent times gone by. Watch it to see Avtar Gill dancing. Um. Okay, listen to the song to appreciate the innocent times gone by.

Some college romances also end up in marriages. But before that happens, you have the entire population of Great Britain singing the rejected national anthem of UK to wish you. I swear I am not making this up. We Wish You A Great Life. We wish you a great life. A great lahaife. A great lahaife. Confused? This is what follows. I promise you a great life. I want you to be my wife. Life life. Wife wife. Life life. Wife wife. And all this inside a campus. If you don’t believe me, rent the DVD of the 2002 Hrithik Roshan starrer Aap Mujhe Achchhe Lagne Lage. Or, actually, just believe me.
The most honest college song, however, is not based in college. Sung by S Janaki and Munna Aziz in the 1986 Amitabh Bachchan starrer Aakhri Rasta, Pehle Padhai Phir Pyaar Hoga is a great choice for exploring narrative perspectives of the gender divide amongst the semi-urban Indian youth in the 1980s. If you got confused with what I just said, that makes two of us. The woman goes Pehle padhai phir pyaar hoga, pyaar hoga, pyaar hoga. Ek baar nahin, sau baar hoga, haan hoga, haan hoga. But our testosterone-filled protagonist cannot take it no more. Mujhse na intezaar hoga, Mujhse na intezaar hoga. The coy but understanding lady admonishes him with a Chup, aaj ka sabak hum yaad ab karenge. Our hero, and this is what makes him a hero, responds immediately with a rather straight Woh toh theek hai magar, woh kab karenge. Whoa!

Munna Aziz, I want to build a hospital in your name. Lollapalooza.

If you liked what you read, you may also like Of fish fry, kala kutta and rasgulla. 10 Best Hindi Film Songs of All Time. and Dear English in Bollywood… Zindagi bhar rahunga, yours faithfully!

Of fish fry, kala kutta and rasgulla. 10 Best Hindi Film Songs of All Time.

If you are here hoping to start a discussion on the 10 Best Hindi Film Songs of All Time, you may want to stop reading, like, now.

Hindi cinema has had so many gems that the biggest and the brightest experts on movies and music would find it tough to create a list of even the 100 best, leave alone the 10 Best Hindi Songs of all time. The expanse is awfully wide, ranging from K L Saigal to Amit Trivedi and everybody else in between. And I sure am not the right person to generate the list. Not because I am not capable, but because it may just be sacrilegious to take one song and leave another considering the number of great songs that we have had. And, also because I am not capable.

But here I am. Still hitting the imaginary keys of the imaginary typewriter, and feeling adequately writerish, if there ever was such a word. Here’s why. I may not be good enough to pick up the 10 Best Songs, but hey, I sure am bad enough to pick up the 10 Worst Hindi Film Songs of All Time. True story.

When I say bad songs, I don’t quite have songs like Choli ke peechhe kya hai, Sarkaye liyo khatiya jaada lage or Chadh gaya oopar re in my mind. Choli ke peechhe is not exactly high art, but it did serve the purpose of being this raunchy raw number in a situation that required a raunchy raw number, and being judgmental about that would mean being silly. But more importantly, I do not want to take the moral high ground here and castigate racy songs just because they are, well, racy. Also, fyi, the answer is boobs.

I have also let go of the South Indian entries rehashed in Hindi. So Telephone dhun mein hansne waali, Melbourne machhli machalne waali would not find a place in my list despite the lyricist PK Mishra’s greatness staring at us. In fact, my entire list can be made out of the contribution from Robot and Indian, but that would be kind of playing favorites.

Have consciously avoided Hindi film songs in English, because it is grossly unfair to their Hindi counterparts, and these songs really don’t need my certification, in any case. Here’s why. My heart is beating. Keeps on repeating. I am waiting for you. My love encloses. A plot of roses. And when shall be then. Our next meeting. Cause love you know. That time is fleeting. Time is fleeting. Time is fleeting. Now picture somebody called Lakshmi singing those lines while being directed by one K S Sethumadhavan. If you still don’t understand where I am coming from, I wanna chiggie wiggie witcha boy.

You would also not find any of those hybrid songs like ILU ILU, Lazy lamhen and Zara zara touch me. They are neither here, nor there. Certainly not here.

Last, I have not taken songs that were meant to be funny intentionally. This would mean no C.A.T cat, cat mane billi or Shaam dhale khidki tale tum seeti bajana chhod do or Main Laila Laila chillaunga kurta phaad ke.

The lyrics and the songs of each era reflect the socio-cultural scenario they have emerged from, deserving their place of honour or dishonour under the sun. I am no expert at judging the creations of others but I certainly am an expert at making these cover-your-ass statements like I just did. So. Here I go. In no particular order.

1.       Hato Hato Doctoron Ki Toli Aayi. If you ever thought Who let the dogs out was the first song to get inspired by the barking dog/s, don’t ever say this to Rajesh Roshan. Everybody from the Roshan clan would laugh uproariously, mock at you and then do wild high fives (Insert Hrithik Roshan high-six joke here) after hearing you. This song talks about a doctoron ki toli, and the incredible acts of this she-dog Tommy. Tommy is the name of a bitch. Yes. Now let me not spoil your fun. Here are the lyrics penned by Indeevar: Hato hato doctoron ki toli aayi, toli aayi. Compounder saath mein Tommy laayi, Tommy laayi. Bow. Bow Wow. Bow. Bow Wow. Baat jo bigdi hai ban jaayegi. Saath mein beautiful nurse laayi. I have not had the chance to see this dog or the song, but it is from the 1991 film Karz Chukana Hai, starring Govinda. Okay. Case closed. Also, the inspiration for this song, if at all, is the Patti Page number How much is that doggie in the window.

 2.       Ek Rasgulla Kahin Phat Gaya Re. To be fair, there are too many Govinda songs that can make it to the list and it is very strenuous to decide on the best worst Govinda song/s. He is the one who has mouthed immortal lines like Tujhko mirchi lagi toh main kya karun, Meri pant bhi sexy and Main tujhko bhaga laya hoon tere ghar se, tere baap ke dar se. But this song from the 1990 film Izzatdaar is special because it has been picturized on Madhuri Dixit along with Govinda. The actors are in a state of inebriation a la Jai Jai Shiv Shankar, and this is the high point of their musical conversation: Sun oh mister. Oh mister. Sun oh mister. Oh mister. Mister. Oh mister. Ek taaza khabar. Mmmmmmm. Ek rasgulla kahin phat gaya re. Re baba re. Phat ke jalebi se lipat gaya re. I could not figure who has written these lyrics but whoever could imagine an exploding rasgulla tightly hugging a jalebi after getting torn off, I would want to get pregnant with your child.

 3.       Angoor Ka Dana Hoon. Sui Na Chubha Dena. That’s a fair ask. Because no self respecting angoor ka daana would want to be pin-pricked by a needle. This is why: Angoor ka daana hoon. Sui na chubha dena. Sui jo chubhayi toh ras tapkega. Jo ras tapkega toh… Kiss. Miss. Kissmiss. Kissmiss ban jaaungi. Roughly translated, this is how the song goes: “I am a grape, a fruiting berry of the deciduous woody vines of the botanical genus described as Vitis”. Ha, fooled you, that’s Wikipedia talking! But seriously, I don’t think the song can be explained. It has to be absorbed somewhere deep down inside. If you cannot understand the lyrics, you don’t understand literature. Go drown. Thank you, Kavita Krishnamurthy. Thank you Sawan Kumar Tak. Kiss. Miss. Kissmiss.

 4.       Main Toh Preetam Ko Kar Rahi Thi Ta Ta Re. The year was 1997. The film was Gudgudee. The actor was Pratibha Sinha. Check out the first two lines of the song: Main toh Preetam ko kar rahi thi ta ta re. Ki kaale kutte ne mujhe kaata re. What an agonizing situation to be in, poor girl. Bidding adieu to your loved one and being bitten by a black dog. Naturally, you expect her poignant tale of woes to continue in the next two lines of the song. And continue it does: Kaale kutte ne mujhe kaata re. Jab Preetam ko kar rahi thi ta ta re. So if you missed her heart-rending state of affairs in the earlier take, you certainly would get it now with that tear-jerking play of words. Oh, that bloody dog, the slayer of love. Btw, we had saved the best for the last. The director of this film was Basu Chatterjee. The Basu Chatterjee.

PS: Pratibha Sinha’s other claim to fame is this exceptional song exploring temporal spaces from the movie Military Raaj titled Kabhi hafte mein do hafte mein tu mil ja mujhko raste mein. Also, some people remember her for her tits.

5. I One Love Four You Three. This song has Mithun Chakraborty teaming up with Harish, telling us how professing one’s affection with an ‘I love you’ is passé. Harish, for those not in the know, is the only actor in the country who can pass off both as a South Indian bhelwala and a North Indian bhelwala with equal effortlessness. He also had played the heroine in Karishma Kapoor’s debut film Prem Qaidi. The song is reflective of the societal milieu of the post-liberalization 1990s. And this when I don’t even know what that last sentence meant. I One. Love Four. You Three. Bolo one four three. Yaani I love you. Bolo one four three. I love you hua purana. Yeh naya hai zamana. Nayi nayi baat karo. Jab bhi mulaqaat karo. Hoor ho ya pari. I One. Love Four. You Three.  Bolo one four three. Yaani I love you. Bolo one four three. Yes. Indeed. Mithun Chakraborty, Harish, Mohammed Aziz, Udit Narayan, Jatin, Lalit, Arshad Khan, Salim Akhtar… they don’t make them like you anymore, comrades. One Four Three all.

 6.       Kya Gaadi Hai. Kya Number Hai. Or this is how Jackie Shroff describes his ladylove Sangeeta Bijlani in the 1991 film Lakshmanrekha. The cringing candescence of this Amit Kumar song lights up my dull and dark days even now. Kya gaadi hai. Kya number hai. Kya body hai. Kya bumper hai. Oopar se dekho. Neeche se dekho. Aage se dekho. Peechhe se dekho. Kahin se dekho ji. Haai kya baat hai. Haai kya baat hai. If this isn’t subtle, what is? But please don’t try this at home.

Special mention to this other Jackie Shroff number Back Maarti Hai Front Maarti Hai. Jackie plays a Police Officer in this 1992 film of the same name. And he sings this song for Karishma Kapoor: Back maarti hai. Fur-runt maarti hai. Dekho yeh ladki current maarti hai. Ladki samajh ke issko na chhoona. Yeh kaali nagin ka hai namoona. Dant maarti hai yeh dunk maarti hai. Dekho yeh ladki current maarti hai. Everytime this song gets played on radio or TV, a girl gets molested and goes to a Police Officer. Or sometimes the girl goes to the Police Officer and gets molested. Which other film would have an impact like this!

 7.       You Are My Chicken Fry. You Are My Fish Fry. While it is an unhappy sight, I can so visualize Bappi Lahiri moving around with spring in his steps and in his gold crusted Spongebob boxers after conjuring this song up. Chicken Fry was Bappi da’s eureka moment. (Okay, the sight just became unhappier, bathtub et al.) Not every day does such brilliance strike the human race: You are my chicken fry. You are my fish fry. Kabhi na kehna kudiye bye bye bye. Wow. Only the cruellest and the most heartless kudiye can reject such a passionate and warm plea. Therefore, the good girl replies, in affirmation: You are my samosa. You are my masala dosa. Main na kahungi mundya bye bye bye. Moral of the story: Angoor ka dana hoon deserves the Nobel prize for Literature.

 8.       It’s 6 AM. I Love You Mom. Annu Malik hit the creative goldmine with this song from the 2003 film Khushi. Sung by Sonu Nigam and picturized on Fardeen Khan in his shorts, the song can inspire you for life. It’s 6 am. I love you, mom. I’ll have some cornflakes. Mujhe milega dum. I’ll have good shower. And a shave. Listen  to music. It’s gotta be late. Put on my jeans. And Provogue shirt. Ladki dhoondoonga. With short short skirts. Mere dil mein phool khil rahe hain. Chaand tare din mein khil rahe hain. Pyaar hone ko hai. Dil khone ko hai. O ho O ho O. Good morning, India. This is it. I love you mom. Mujhe milega dum. I’m this cokehead. Must go to bed. What khushi!

 9.       Din Mein Leti Hai. I had consciously decided to avoid the double entendre songs or songs that were conceived with the premise that they had to be crass and vulgar to titillate and shock. Plenty examples. Saat saheliyan khadi khadi, Main maalgaadi tu dhakka laga, Kal saiyyan ne aisi bowling kari, Khada hai khada hai khada hai dar pe tera ashique khada hai or Bhaag DK Bose and Oonche se ooncha banda potty par baithe nanga from recent times. But I have still kept this one song from the 1994 film Amanat in my list for the sheer audacity of its creators – Bappi Lahiri, Kumar Sanu, Anwar Sagar, Illa Arun, Alka Yagnik – to believe that they could get away with something like this. They did. Din mein leti hai. Raat mein leti hai. Subah ko leti hai. Shaam ko leti hai. Kya bura hai. Usska naam leti hai. Arre bol bol kiska? Apne saajan ka. Apne baalam ka. Apne preetam ka. Apne jaanam ka.

PS: Ila Arun, how do you sing with that machine running?

 10.   Mister Prime Minister. Hey you. And you and you. Oll of you. Come here. Come hither. Brother and sister. And there. There miss. And this mister. Come whun come all. To know the how and see the who. Of this. Mister Prime Minister. Event of the times. Cold and sinister. Angel of a man. Not a fixter. Not a smooth operator. Then in down like a gutter. This Misther Prime Minister. Bappi Lahiri and Dev Anand joined forces to create this geriatric gobbledygook in the 2005 release called, uhm, Mr. Prime Minister. I give up.

And here’s the list of the also-rans.

 1.   Ladki Nahin Hai Tu Lakdi Ka Khamba Hai. The entire decade of 1980s belonged to Jeetendra with films like Maqsad, Tohfa, Sarfarosh, Mawaali, Haisiyat, Hoshiyar, Haqeeqat, Sanjog, Majaal and many more, touching the deepest depths of daftness, showcasing some of the most absurd songs of Hindi cinema ever produced, complete with flying colors, dancing matkas and Jayaprada in a petticoat. (One sec. Haan, hello. Kaun? Oh, Amar Singh ji? Haan sir, would send you the link asap.) Amongst all those charming numbers, our vote goes to this song from Himmatwala: Aiiiiiii. Ladki nahin hai tu lakdi ka khamba hai. Bakbak mat kar naak tera lamba hai. Aa aa. Idhar tu aa aa. Aiiiiiii. Ja. Aa gaya kehan se tu bada hi nikamma hai. Ja ke chhup ja tu wahan jahan teri amma hai. Ja ja. Arre tu ja ja. It takes the creative skills of somebody as intense as Indeevar to manufacture lyrical banter of this stature. Also, lamba naak instead of lambi naak? That was sheer genius, sir.

 2.   Bingo Bingo Bingo Main Hoon Bingo. Indian Cinema has showcased some great friends and friendship over the last 100 years. Jai Veeru. Ram Balram. Bharat Bhushan. (Okay, I made the last one up.) But nobody can beat the friendship between Bingo and Ringo in the 1985 release Ma Kasam. Amjad Khan and Mithun Chakraborty light up the screen in this Bappi Lahiri-Farooq Qaiser song of friendship, courage and valour. And they have Kalpana Iyer aka Pappi Sundaram for company. Bingo Bingo Bingo, main hoon Bingo. Ringo Ringo Ringo, main hoon Ringo. Haan haan main Pappi Sundaram. Sambhal ke rakhna har kadam. Karenge chhutti, Ma kasam. Ma kasam. Ma kasam. Enough said.

 3.   Main Ladki Po Po Po. As if romancing with Suneil Shetty in Hera Pheri wasn’t bad enough for Tabbu, she was also made to sing these awesome lines: Main ladki PO PO PO. Tu ladka PO PO PO. Hum dono mile PO PO PO. Ab aage hoga kya? Only a lyricist of Sameer’s calibre could ask such an existential question with such simplicity and also provide the answer through Suneil Shetty: Kuch nahin hoga kuch nahin hoga. Hum dono mein bas yeh hoga. PO PO PO. PO PO PO. PO PO PO. PO PO PO. PO PO PO. PO PO PO. PO PO… I swear I am not making up the number of POPOPOs in this song. Honest. And to add insult to injury, Shetty actually slaps Tabbu and then kicks her ass, literally, while rejecting her overtures in the middle of the song. What the PO.

 4.   Mere Baap Ki Beti Meko Bhai Bolti, Mere Baap Ki Biwi Meko Beta Bolti. Like Govinda, there are too many Salman Khan songs that can make it to the list. But I have chosen this one because of the ease with which it exposes the underbelly and the complexities of the great Indian family, and at the same time, highlights the hopes and aspirations of the common man. If that common man is Salman Khan, that is. Mere baap ki beti meko bhai bolti. Mere baap ki biwi meko beta bolti. Meri maa ka bhai meko bhaanja bolta. Mere bhai ki beti meko chacha bolti. Ooparwaale, tune, mujhko sab kuchh diya. Ab dede husband kehne waali sundar biwi. Never again has the great Indian joint family been represented in Hindi cinema like this. Must be a really good joint.

If you are not convinced with this selection, try this other Salman Khan song called Main Toh Mere Papa Ki Carbon Copy from the 2002 film Yeh Hai Jalwa: Nahin fax, nahin xerox, nahin telex ya computer ki floppy. Main to mere Papa ki carbon copy. And if you are still not convinced, well, let me not tell you mere baap ka beta tujhe kya bolta.

5.   Do Me A Favor, Let’s Play Holi. To give Anu Malik the credit, he has had the distinction of making songs with lyrics as bizarre as Ek garam chai ki pyaali ho, Oonchi hai building lift teri band ha or Aaila re ladki badi mast mast fairly hummable. But that is still no defence for a song as moronic as this: Do me a favor let’s play holi. Rangon mein hai pyaar ki boli. Mere peechhe peechhe peechhe kyon aaye. Mera jiya jiya kyon dhadkaaye. Ja re ja don’t touch my choli. Uff yeh Holi. Haai yeh Holi. While Sameer has been credited with writing the lyrics of this song, one is more than sure this mukhda was penned by Mr. Malik considering the enthusiasm and passion with which he has sung the song, feeling the extent, intensity and power of pure love. Yes, Indian Aesthetics aficionados, THIS is shringar rasa for you, thank you.

Talking of purity and passion, Himesh Reshammiya’s Tandoori Nights deserves a place in here. If these nights of the roasted variety do not move you, you were born to Androids. Tak tana na na tandoori nights. Tandoori nights. Tandoori nights. Tak tana na na tandoori nights. Tandoori nights. Tandoori nights. Sama sharabi. Dono jahan sharabi. Rut rawan sharabi, dildar ve. Hawa sharabi. Teri ada sharabi. Yeh fiza sharabi, dildar ve. Tanha tanha hai dil. Tanha tandoori nights. If loving you is wrong, I don’t wanna be right. Rabba. Rabba. Meri jaan jale. Jale. Jale. Jale…

Compare these to the Qamar Jalalabadi song from the 1959 film Do Ustad, Ric Ric Tic Tic.The song goes Ric Ric Tic Tic Boom Boom Tic. Tere mere do dil ho gaye ik. Dil mein mere kar reha hai kaun aaj picnic. Funny, yes. Mildly inane, yes. But not Kiss Miss by a long shot. Or Po Po Po.

The reason why I mention Qamar Jalalabadi is that while Qamar Saab has given us songs like Aaiye meherbaan, baithiye jaanejaan and Ek pardesi mera dil le gaya, he can also take the credit for writing quite a few ‘non-regular’ songs in Hindi films, from Mera naam Chin Chin Chu to Worli ka naka aaka ka baaka on a regular basis. But he still never did compromise on the poetry despite the difference in tonality. Dum Dum Diga Diga. Mausam bhiga bhiga. Bin piye main toh gira. Main toh gira. Main toh gira. Haai allah. Surat aapki subhan allah. Cheesy. But still classy.

God bless this man. Pappi Sundaram to him. : )

(Originally posted on missmalini.com) | If you liked this note, you may also like The Gods Must Be trashy, Getting educated at Bollywood: Woh toh theek hai magar woh kab karenge! and Dear English in Bollywood… Zindagi bhar rahunga, yours faithfully!.