This week I have been a lonely warrior on social media, refusing to wage a battle against the Bollywood remix of ‘Pasoori’. For those who have come in late, the Hindi version of Pakistani artistes Ali Sethi and Shae Gill’s global megahit is called ‘Pasoori Nu’, which has been sung by Arijit Singh and Tulsi Kumar, written by Gurpreet Saini, and composed by Rochak Kohli for the new Sameer Vidwan’s romance, Satyaprem Ki Katha, starring Kartik Aaryan and Kiara Advani.
The insanely catchy original, an amalgamation of eclectic musical traditions from across the world—classical, folk, and pop—was released on February 6, 2022, on Coke Studio Pakistan and has posted several milestones since then. According to Spotify, it was the most streamed Pakistani song globally in 2022. It was Google Trend’s most searched song for 2022 and became the first Coke Studio Pakistan music video to hit 500 million views on YouTube in January this year.
What’s more, the single has seen several cover versions and DJ remixes, including an Afrobeats remix by Coke Studio Africa in collaboration with artistes Marwan Moussa and Reekado Banks.
Why, then, is there so much hullabaloo over the Indian rendition? To my not-so-musically evolved ears, it didn’t sound as cacophonous or jarring (Singh, in fact, is quite finely tuned) as it has to the diehard fans whose sentiments appear to have been hurt beyond repair. While in no way defending the questionable remix culture itself on which copious amounts have already been written, one can’t overlook the fact that ‘Pasoori Nu’ is an authorized version and has been done with the permission of the creators who would have been paid a handsome fee for the rights. Then why is the world going wild with hatred? “We are fans. We own it too,” Australia based writer-podcaster-academician Saadia Ahmed told me on Twitter. Tough to argue with that.
The Pakistani original talks of the anguish, angst and frustration of heartbreak and separation. According to a piece in The New Yorker, “Pasoori is ostensibly about star-crossed lovers, but it’s also an apt metaphor for the relationship between two countries [India and Pakistan] in perpetual conflict whose histories and cultural touchstones are entwined.” In this light, metaphorically speaking, the immense popularity of the original rendered the India and Pakistan border porous; it transcended political boundaries. Now for it to lodge itself in Bollywood, the heart of Indian popular culture, with the remix is another sweet disruption, given the current ban on Pakistani artistes and films in India. The melody of ‘Pasoori’ can travel freely, even if Sethi and Gill can’t.
But there’s still more to it than the resentment around this remix. What demands our collective indignation is the chronic disorder of outrage that has been plaguing popular culture, especially on social media. Public flare-ups of this kind are no longer an exception but a rule. Ironically, they get extinguished just as fast as they are stoked. Wasn’t it just yesterday that another song, ‘Besharam Rang’, from Pathaan, was in the eye of a massive storm? It garnered more attention than it deserved by offending us, just like ‘Pasoori Nu’ has managed to log in 20 million views on T Series’ YouTube channel in just four days of its release on Monday, June 26. On the flip side, a question that begs answers is whether ‘Besharam Rang’ is playing on the loop anymore? Will’ Pasoori Nu’ be remembered with as much passion and as timeless as the original?
Of late, such sound and fury help build curiosity around and draw attention to some otherwise undistinguished films and make others bigger than they would have been otherwise. Be it Pathaan or Mrs Chatterjee vs Norway, Adipurush or The Kerala Story, almost every Bollywood biggie this year, rather in the last few years, has been fuelled by controversies, backlash and boycott calls on social media. As opposed to that have been the quiet but staggering successes in the South like Por Thozhil and 2018, powered purely by their quality of storytelling.
Things have come to such a pass that many—among the audience, critics, and film fraternity itself—have started getting defensive about raising even genuine political and social concerns about certain contentious films, fearing it would lead to an infantile public discourse rather than constructive debates and discussions. Also, even a takedown willy-nilly gets channelled as an acknowledgement and validation of a film, helping market it, thereby catapulting it at the box office.
So, one is left with a bunch of questions to deal with: Are we making the undeserving movies, music, and content bigger by getting incensed? Can utter disregard be a way out? Can ignoring be a better tool for showing disapproval? Filmmaker Tanuja Chandra thinks otherwise. “What you call ‘undeserving’ is already big. And it’ll grow. The only way to fight something unjust is to raise your voice against it,” she once told me.
Ultimately, it’s not about giving up on the battles entirely but picking up a war that’s worth the fight. Righteous indignation is precious and powerful. One needs to exercise some thrift and prudence rather than fritter it away on the innocuous. Like a ‘Pasoori Nu’.