Turnip Goes “Fourth”…

“Chaar botal vodka, kaam mera rozka…na mujhko koi roke, whatever, whatever, whatever…”

Inspirational lines from a man who could easily be mistaken for a poorer looking cousin of Harbhajan Singh. (Yes, the same guy who can actually turn a cricket ball. Feel sorry for him. For a while now, he has been under the severest misconception that turning the cricket ball was necessary to be “India’s number one spinner”…someone should tell him he needs an Engineering degree and an India Cements team jersey (clever, right?…I’m not naming the actual franchise!) to “cement” his place).

But getting back without going back and “fourth” any further, to the chosen turnip…Darn even taking that name sends barbed shivers down the spine. I mean, how can somebody choose to call oneself YO – YO Honey Singh!!!??? Or maybe he did not.

You know how Punjabis have this quirky habit of keeping “pet names?”… The scarier looking the infant, the sweeter the name. (People from that part of the country…please put your weapons back…I mean no harm, really…er…yes please also the weapons that are in the living room…and also the gun under your pillow…You see I get scared with these things…and I mean no harm really…just a mere observation. Err…just repeating for the people “around” NCR…you know Haryana border and stuff…near the highways etc., you know…er…sometimes they take a wee bit longer to assimilate…can you please remove the bullet first and then keep that gun aside???…thanks…appreciate it)

So back to the “pet-name” thing – So I have this theory on the guy. So scary was the sound of his wailing when he was a pooping and dunging (Ah, see…referring to my Chetan Bhagat blog…experience, you see!) toddler, that his family had to first attract his gaze with a melodic “yo…yo” followed by his “pet name” which is H-O-N-E-Y, followed immediately by a tight whack on the cheeks saying “sing” (don’t wail)…”sing” (don’t wail).

That kinda stuck with the guy…you know how it happens when one childhood memory stays with you forever. So somewhere, that small delicate unused brain, turned into a slightly bigger delicate unused brain, believing that his name was a function of the type concatenate (“yo yo”, ” “, “honey”, ” “,”singh”). (He forgot the second “sing”, as his brain was already very taxed, but remembered his religion, so ingeniously wove it into the complete name)

So there you go…wasn’t very difficult now, was it?

But you gotta give it to the guy. He’s blown everything up in the air…music, lyrics, songwriting, lungis, competition…you name it! I mean, last heard, Anu Malik was buying used MBA books on OLX…as they say it’s never too late to change your stream, especially if you are threatened by somebody far superior in the ranks, which in this case is certainly true. I mean, for Gods’ sake, Malik’s earth shattering “unchi hai building…lift teri band hai…” seems like Kipling’s verse, compared to all our protagonists songs put together! God bless your soul AM…may you find your true calling soon (PS – try the Mumbai Central Railway train announcer audition…unless Himesh-bhai has pipped you there already!)

Look, I don’t half expect a guy with a name like YYHS, to give me Floyd-ian songwriting!…I’m not that turnipy! But what is wrong in expecting something even remotely sensible? But then these are turnipy times we live in, very turnipy times indeed!

I guess what has gotten me going so stark raving mad is that my three year old knows the lyrics backwards! So here I am, sitting with a business client at the wheel of my car, picking up my daughter en-route. We are in the middle of talking valuations and stuff, and the US economy and all the pain those dumb American so-and-so’s have caused us, and our protagonist starts crooning the “vodka” song on the radio…my three year old starts gyrating like a doll possessed, screaming out the entire darn thing verbatim (yes!…including that “sooji sooji ankhein, meri phir bhi …!!!)

I needed to complete the other extreme of my bipolarity…and I had to do it quick. So, I locked myself in my room for 10 hours straight and listened to Pink Floyd, back to back. Phew…that was a close shave. My immediate instinct was to file an FIR for proposed threat to fellow human. The wife talked me out of it though, by promising to extend her visit to her parents’, by two days. She also promised me that if we ever had another child, she would not completely dismiss the idea of naming it “Kubrick” ,for my sake, irrespective of it’s sex. That was her way of buying me out with substantial leverage (“LBO” you see, for our banking fraternity!…smart right?).

I CAN DO ANYTHING NOT TO LISTEN TO THAT MONSTROSITY AGAIN…ANYTHING…EVEN SUPPORT THE ENGLISH FOOTBALL TEAM AT MAJOR EVENTS! (Yes, I know. That is very desperate of me!)

By now, some of you may have spotted the fact that the title, very subtly, alludes also to the song in question…you know “chaar botal” and all…see us at Triple T think very long and hard, before reaching such high levels of random brilliance!

Two ending “sprouts” to end this very turnipy turnip…completely unrelated though, and outrageously out of context.

Sprout 1 – Can somebody point out the latest big budget film NOT to have received “3 stars” or more from The TOI group and noted critic Taran Adarsh? (don’t look at me like that…I’m only asking for GK…not that these will be a future Triple T topic…whatever gave you that idea???)

Sprout 2 – I hear the earth-turd’s Humshakals is going to be premiered on the tele soon. Funny thing is, the title sponsors are a gutka company. That’s like slapping the Govt. and saying, “you can take away our income through prohibitions, but we will still find ways to kill you!!!”

Happy Turnip-ing!

PS- The disclaimer goes “fourth” as well…