Baap Ban Jaaye Campaign

A quick note for readers who are not well versed in Hindi - read the note at the end of this post before you read it. Others, read on!

I was chatting with a friend when the conversation ended up in music and Ghulam Ali (I swear we have a life), and I casually mentioned, "As a kid I was in love with two songs. Chupke Chupke and Baap Ban Jaaye."

This is what followed:

She: Baap Ban Jaaye?
Me: Aap jaisa koi mere zindagii mein aaye, toh Baap Ban Jaaye (Translated: Someone like you enters my life, he'll become a Dad)
She: I love that song too, but its Baat Ban Jaaye, not BAAP
Me: What? No way!

Since the age of 5, I have been singing this song from Qurbaani and the lyrics in my book have always been Baap Ban Jaaye. I am sure somewhere in the past I must have walked into a house packed with guests with my Mom going, "Oh yeah, he has started singing lessons. Apoo, you wanna demo?"

"Sure Mom. One, Two, Three - Aap jaisa.... Baap Ban Jaaye"

No wonder my singing classes were abruptly canceled and they put me in drawing classes.

However, with my years of self taught lyrics shattered, I decided to do a postmortem. And eventually have come to the conclusion that the lyrics of the song should be changed from Baat to Baap. Firstly, check out the video. Now, which guy would prefer Zeenat saying "Baat Ban Jaaye" over "Baap Ban Jaaye". If any one of you guys raised your hand, I suggest a sex change operation or suicide.

I even compared it to the male version of Bryan Adams - Ever Loved a Woman. Apparently all women I know go all weak on the "See your unborn children in her eyes". I think "Baap Ban Jaaye" should be the male equivalent of that.

On a side note, I can see my Dad heave a sigh of relief with a "Finally he got the lyrics and I can stop being embarrassed in public" dialog.

So, should I start a facebook campaign for a change in lyrics?
Should I make an appeal to Biddu and Nazia Hassan?
Should I just shut up?


Note:
Baap Ban Jaaye - in Hindi means become a father
Baat Ban Jaaye - in Hindi is something to the tune of 'its a sweet deal'.

Haunted Naked

Its 5 AM, Saturday morning. The temperature lingering in the early teens. I have my thick winter coat pulled over me as I walk across the empty parking lot of the University. Its one of those moments where you get up at 4 AM and feel the urge to hit the books and your bedroom does not provide the ideal setting. Somehow the study room at the University beckons.

I swing my bag over my shoulders and tuck my hands in the pockets of the winter coat as I cross the road. I can hear my footsteps, a faint slushing sound masked by the snow on the ground. Opening the door to the University building seems to create a sound which disturbs the perfect silence of the night. The hallways feel eerie. This is the same place that I walk in two days of the week and its bustling with students. Different colors, different people. Now, it feels like walking into an empty church. Silent, but full of energy. As I walk through the hallways, passing by many a classroom, I wonder the amount of knowledge these walls might have taken in. Every square is the alma mater of tomorrows Steve Jobs or an Indra Nooyi. But now, so silent.

I make my way into the study room and lay out the books. And I have soon forgotten about my surroundings and have my nose buried in some geeky literature. This is when a slight movement catches the corner of my eye. I look up and notice a human figure having walked past the door and turned into the hallway. My eyes follow her. And I notice she is wearing a loose pink top. And thats the only piece of clothing she has on. The light in the hallway throws out the outline of her body through the clothing. Brown hair, pink shirt and one of those perfect figures. Thats all I get to see as she sashays down the hallway, her back towards me. My eyes follow her all the way till she turns the corner and I go back to my books, ever so sure about my belief - weird is normal.

A minute passes by and she reappears, this time walking in the opposite direction. Down the hallway. I see her face. Somehow beautiful doesn't seem to do justice. I shouldn't stare, but I do. She must be 20, or 21, or older, I cant make out. She notices me as she gets closer and smiles. I smile back.

"Hitting the books on a Saturday morning? Those got to be tough times!", she says.

"Nah. Only a shirt and nothing else to wear in the middle of winter, those are tough times", I reply.

She laughs. Its the regular girly laugh. "You shouldn't be complaining", she says, and walks on.

I have seen weird things during college life. But nothing like this.

Perhaps the University is haunted. Or perhaps I missed a quickie. I wouldn't know. But I sure know where I'll be 5 AM this coming Saturday.