I had not expected a torrent of reactions while writing compliments
(with a lot of difficulty, though, since I am not used to
typing with the left hand) to Honey Singh
for his contribution to the vocabulary and mannerisms of my kids.
More than 40k shares on Facebook, hundreds of retweets, a litany of protests, requests for interviews with my kids -- presumed to be foul-mouthed and alcoholics because of the Honey Singh effect -- and several rejoinders on websites that compete with Hindustan Times, would have done wonders to my ego. Unfortunately, I heard the wrong Singh in my early years. Read An open letter to Yo Yo Honey Singh
When Jagjit Singh sang Ghalib, he left behind not only memories of his godly voice but also saintly advice: Huwa hai Shah ka musahib, phire hai itrata, Wagarna shahar mein Ghalib ki aabroo kya hai!
Having heard this several years ago, I know that my thank you note went viral only because it was to the reigning Shah of discotheques. So, thank you again, Honey Singh, for being the subject of my clownish missive. You added two minutes of aabroo
to my life.
There are, I presume, some advantages of being introduced to poetic words and philosophical thoughts in your formative years. Since the note was shared on a number of websites, I think thousands of people share my gratitude for Yo Yo's contribution to the quick decent of their kids into adulthood.
But a considerate few, expressed valid concern for kids who have had the misfortune of being born to a parent who wasted two hours railing against an 'artist,' instead of turning off the TV/ changing the radio channel/ relocating to a sound-proof neighbourhood/ avoiding social events like pre-wedding mahila sangeet or simply spanking them till they behave.
Thank you, I have immediately launched a petition for reopening a cell in a concentration camp at Krakow. Would turning them into Robinson Crusoe be a better idea?
Then there are those who made me envy their happy families. Some conjured images of households where the nuclear family gets together for a post-prandial jig to the tune of @3@** mein dum hai to band karwa lo.
Learning from example, I am immediately ordering the latest version of Marqis de Sade's Philosophy in the Bedroom for our post-dinner reading sessions.
Goodbye, Kishore, I said earlier. Off with Alice's head, I say now.
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