Just Stop It, Yaar!

There’s no limit to which I can sing praises for the brand that is Maggi. The nation owes it to them for helping its youth develop a taste for instant noodles cooked in five grams of turmeric powder, and how! So, as a good financial consultant, I’ll throw some free advice and ask them to charge a heavy amount as license fee from every director who dares to use their tagline, “it’s different” every time that a movie is up for release. It will not only contribute to the company’s turnover, but also remind our very creative Bollywood peeps to shut their trap whenever they feel the urge to use these words, being shamelessly ignorant of the irony of the statement.

The year 2014 opens with another such “different” movie that speaks more about a broken new year’s resolution of making quality cinema than about the “college based romance adventure” that its wiki page boasts of. The description, “Yaariyan is a story of close knit 5 friends who are exploring the best moments of their lives in college, experiencing different relationships and learning new values every day” leaves me so impatient about wanting to know what this movie holds for the audiences, that my sarcasm stands in shame for its forced attendance in the previous phrase.

Yaariyan is the directorial debut of Bhushan Kumar’s homemaker wife, Divya Khosla Kumar, who just proved that the phrase “women can do everything that men can” can actually be taken far enough for even the most serious of feminists to ask her to get back to cooking aaloo-gobhi in her husband’s kitchen while listening to mata ke bhajan recorded on her T-Series cassettes. The movie also marks the debut of actors, what’s-his-face and what-the-holy-cow-of-a-rack, who along with their sidekicks are still hungover about Star One’s Remix being the best show to have ever been made in the history of television entertainment.

As the movie plans to set a new benchmark in youth oriented films after Dil Chahta Hai and Rang De Basanti, the makers have roped in YoYo Honey Singh to establish the cult status because wow, so original! The song ABCD opens with YoYo singing, “raat ko hoga hungama, jab chamkega chanda mama”, making the middle aged snap their fingers to the tune in front of their pre-pubescent children till what-the-holy-cow-of-a-rack comes on screen and booty shakes the Cyrus out of Miley to prove that the song is no lullaby. The song that could’ve been a horcrux of the ABCD from Hum Saath Saath Hain must, however, be praised for the honesty with which Benny Dayal pleads the audience to come and watch the movie and not be judgmental. The words “A for aao re aao. B for bhaao na khaao. C se chilaa ke gaao. D se daaru peete jaao” also offer a truthful heads up about the movie making sense only to the inebriated. Or maybe, to those who really care for the “kudiyon ka buffet” that Honey Singh is proud to announce.

Sunny Sunny is another beach-party track that puts Baba Sehgal’s twitter timeline to shame for the brilliance in an undiscovered lyricist’s rhyming abilities. Even before one can come to terms with the shot of Honey Singh wagging his forelegs in a swimming pool on a set that looks like the bastard child of Golmaal Golmaal and Lazy Lamhe, the words “aaj blue hai paani paani paani paani paani… aur din bhi saani saani saani saani saani” hit the cerebellum at a speed that would make anyone pronounce Mr. Singh’s name as YoYo Haani Haani Haani Haani Haani. Not aimed at sapiosexuals (that’s right), the song assumes how no one cares for the lyrics as long as you get what-the-holy-cow-of-a-rack to bite into mangoes, watermelons and strawberries while the lyrics go further to say, “ek tu, ek main aur sea side pe paani ka shor… aaja tu paas mere, girl what you waiting fore.”

The title track, which is called “Baarish” instead of being named “Yaariyan” seems bearable, but the fact that someone needs to gift a dictionary to the makers to help them define the words “title track” keeps me from speaking much about it.

I am sure of how, one, the post-release movie reviews will be no different, and two, how the term ABCD could be used to call the producer, “Aey, BC Doofus!” Before you blame me for such a forced expansion of the acronym; in my defense, I just wrote about the goddamn movie! The creativity kind of rubbed off.

Image Source: gallery.oneindia.in