Those are Blue Lenses, Smartass!

Lucky Ali could’ve used a reference to “blue eyes” in his video for the song Oh Sanam, but decided against it for a reason. Knowing how none of the producers could afford to hire Aishwarya Rai for just one shot of cyan eyes, people would’ve definitely confused the person behind the burqah to either be Jugal Hansraj or Adam Bedi. So he let the video be and culled lyrics suggesting the beauty of those eyes lest he sounded like a gay dude. If only the musicians of today could be intelligent like Mr. Ali and realize that the entire blue-eyed population of the country got named right in the second sentence of this post, the Indian economy would’ve saved a pelvic-load of foreign exchange that got spent in hiring Lamborghinis only so that YoYo Honey Singh could pick up a desi woman with blue eyes in a foreign locale without even realizing that she’s clearly wearing colored lenses.

Mr. Singh, I’d have contested the logic in getting hypnotized by two eyes disguised in a fake shade, half a kilometer away through the windscreen of a moving sports car, without even considering the obstruction caused by the Janpath shopped wayfarers and the visor of your cap. But I decided to cut you some slack for having to get through life with an IQ level of a Nokia 1100. However, your lyrics are more pissing than a ninety year old who cries for an adult diaper despite being attached to a dialysis machine. If the lyrics of the song were even half as fun as bolo-tara-ra-ra, I would’ve let the matter pass off in silence. But words such as “champagne ger di hai tune meri pant pe; kehti hai change karlo hotal leke rant pe” do not deserve to be forgiven.

I was amused at how the lady you picked up could not notice the beauty in the way you rhymed rant with pant. Cuz if she had, I assure you of her walking out of that car and going back to her tant. But rabb da banda you are, and also are your women god-sant. Maybe she was impressed with your promise of “pass kara dun phone ghuma ke; teri principal bhi baby YoYo ki fan hai.” I mean, if you could honestly get me to pass my CA finals by making a call to the Institute’s president, I guarantee that I’d have also dressed up in a yellow colored short dress and licked on a red ice-lolly, creating a beautiful contrast with my blue eyes so that you could pick me up on the road. I wouldn’t have cared a hoot about my safety because as soon as you’d have asked me to decide if you should take a “left ya right”, I’d have directed you to the “pillow fight” and then bashed the shit out of you with my dhai kilo ka haath because that is what I use as a pillow at night. And, shut up with the bomb-figure adjective while you dry hump some air in a Justin Timberlake ensemble. It makes you look like a person whose favorite pick up line would be “is your dad a terrorist?”

Honestly, man; I have been a fan of your music not only because it gets me a chance to dance with some pretty ladies at parties, but also because the maximum hits on my blog come from the Google search “honey singh gay”. (No kidding. Google it!) I deleted songs of Coke Studio from my phone only to make space for your music. I also published an in-depth analysis of your success in the Punjabi music industry here. I got ridiculed by the JNU types for my pedestrian taste in music, and I took it all in silence. A lot of us did. But I will not let you take advantage of your non-Chandigarh fans, who I like to believe, deserve to be given something better to help them retain their fan status.

Also, if you say “katal kare tera bomb figure” one more time, I promise to get a suicide bomber from Afghanistan and make your dream come true!

Image Source:muskurahat.pk