Dear
Yo Yo Honey Singh,
If
only your mental faculties were underdeveloped enough to not understand that a
rhetorical question kind of loses its essence if you follow it up with a
ridiculous answer, would I have let this pass. But you just came up on my television
screen wearing a weed-print kurta
hanging from under your sweater/t-shirt/hip-hop and there’s only so much I can
stand!
If I
were to do a line by line translation of your definition for hip-hop, someone
might put it up on the Wikipedia page for the hyphenated term, and I fear that.
Or, so you wish! But, it would’ve made a little sense to do your research on
the topic before making an educational video on the subject, where you wear
little teddy bear shoes and then try to have them make out with each other in
the name of hip-hop. No?
I’ll
try to break down your words for you here and let you judge if they make any
sense in the context. I’m letting you use your better judgment here! It’s
surprising that I am expecting so much from you when all you care to give me is
some shakkar-paare if you win a
Grammy, but the joke’s on you.
It’s
amazing how you started as a music director and made friends with bade bade “ector”. I mean, it’s
unbelievably impressive how someone can make friends in one’s own industry of
work! Like, being a CA, I am hardly friends with any accountants or finance
guys. I wonder how hard I would have to work to be able to make connections
with some tax consultants. Many congratulations on your feat! You are the
X-“fector” of superhit picturein, and
the heera in the koyle ki khaan. I’m in all agreement about you being the middle
class boy turned superstar, but the thing that you call “charter” is actually
an out-of-place tractor. Also, you could wish all you want for a charter, but I
get to be the Chartered Accountant here. You see what I did there? Some people
call it a PJ; in your words: hip-hop.
I
wish your song was more aptly named “Issey
Kehte Hain Hip-ocrisy”, because clearly you don’t give a damn about kudiyan shudiyan; and all the brown rang, blue eyes, bebo diyan gallan
and high heels can take a walk. Also, at times I wonder how much it would cost
to get a white “ginni” among a
thousand other things. A million dollars? How would you know, but; you clearly
don’t give a damn.
Now,
because we’re having this conversation, I want clarity on some matters that we,
your fans, don’t completely understand. Like, I can’t really tell if that
little Golu in the video is a representation of you at the age of what,
negative five? But, if the pehle gaana
that you heard was Ass Like That, I send my heartfelt condolences. Also because
most of us are so uneducated, I think it would have been a better idea to have
spelt out the full form of DNA in the song. People are confusing it with I
don’t know what, when all you really want to tell them is that hip-hop ki samajh aapki Delusional Narcissistic
Ass mein thi.
There’s
one thing that I’m really happy about though. You finally thought of writing a
song for little pre-schoolers! You’re not just encouraging them to think of a
world without chocolate and suggesting that Bournvita is good for increasing doodh ki shakti, but also pointing at
various things and calling out their names to help little babies learn what
they’re called. Aww! I’ll give you a firm thumbs up (your back) for your
intention, but here come some corrections. So, those tight black pants with
golden zippers that you love to hold at the crotch and call hip-hop are
actually called Zara pants. I’ll admit, my lady friends gave me that piece of
information, but never mind. The tokra
that you point to is called “mangalvaar
ka parshaad”; the dance step in the end is called “bhangra”; the closing your thighs together and going down is not a
hip-hop step but “susu ka rokna”; and
my butt cheeks are called Yo and Yo, respectively. Now call out your name once
more.
A
big fan,
Yo!
Yo!
