Tum Mile, title song in all three voices

I heard Tum Mile for the first time in Ajay's car when mom 'n pa were here in late May. I discovered it was one of the most frequently played songs on radio. Because soon after (probably the same day in less than two hours), I heard it in Madhavan uncle's car too. And then the following weekend when I was enjoying my Musk Melon ice cream at Natural Marine Drive, and blurted, "I'm beginning to LOVE this song" (when actually I'd already downloaded all three versions and played them on the loop some 30-odd times) to Vivek when they were playing it.

Ironically, like the flavours of ice cream, a lot of Pritam's songs come in at least two or three voices. So Baatein Kuch Ankahi Si in Life in a Metro came in Suhail Kaul and Adnan Sami's voices, and now Tum Mile in Javed Ali, Neeraj Shreedhar and Shafqat Ali's voices. Now I was also recently watching tv when Javed Ali made an appearance on one of these silly reality music shows and the conversation started. So this guy who's a casting director at Fremantle told me the so-called Javed Ali version has actually been sung by Mohit Chauhan. And I'm yet to be convinced. Even as I write this piece, I'm listening intently, and there's just too much of the melody and sur for the song to be a Mohit Chauhan spoil. I'm sorted. It's not Mohit Chauhan.

Ok now that we're done having the little discussion, we may move on.

So I'm yet to figure out what it is that draws me to the number. Each has a very different feel to it. The lyrics are different from each other. While the Javed Ali version is the weakest, it obviously has an initial attraction, or I don't know if I would've bothered with all the tedious downloading and transferring to the iPod. The Neeraj version has probably exhausted its rounds with the DJs. Of course, Shafqat's voice sustains anything for the longest - I recently heard the Coke Studio cover of Khamaaj in his voice with all the chords changed and his voice still carried the song to another level.

Much has been written or spoken about Shafqat's voice. It is probably even fashionable to criticise him or for him to stoop a little in quality, considering the technical clean-ups that wield their magic wands anyway. but surely there must be something in his voice to lend even an otherwise ordinary song a most extraordinary magical quality. His elongated alaaps are not avoidable. You may say they are meddled with, but how can the man's voice be so sand-papered and polished? That comes out of his innate excellence alone.

As for the permutations that Pritam experiments with, I'd unwillingly have to agree that they do turn out well. I've often wondered how one song would sound in another voice. Ok, so the experimentation was carried out in, say, 1942 A Love Story with Kuch Na Kaho, but everything remained the same, right? Only lyrics changed. Whereas in Pritam's case, he changes the chords, the lyrics too sometimes, the voice is of course the biggest alteration, the beats or their treatment is revamped completely. What I'm yet to understand is, why Pritam can't make his women singers work the same magic?

How many Sunidhi Chauhans, Shreya Ghoshals or any of the more obscure ones manage to stand up to the challenge? Is it even a challenge? Wouldn't it be fun for someone as trained and versatile as Ghoshal to play with an Anushka Manchanda number or an Alisha Chenoy trip? what's with the vanity?

I suppose Tum Mile illustrates for the entire Hindi music fraternity, that the concept of cover songs should be encouraged. It would stimulate listeners so much more! And, chalo, Pritam does a bit of an overkill with the three versions in the same album, but surely over time, with changing trends, this sort of thing done over a longer period would bring fresh perspectives to an otherwise single reading - I guess I'm delving into Death of an Author here...

Gaay ka ghar

I’m dying of laughter here – tears rolling – tummy in convulsions – the works.

The subject of our humour is Lucy-poosi-puchki. Our...who? Gayatri and I. Gayatri began by imitating the way Lucy scratches herself, “Like Bharatnatyam,” it seems. Suddenly Gaay contorts herself with a twist at the waist, and one leg lifted like she’d just had her love kiss, the face looks pretty much like the spitz’s anyway, and then she sticks out her tongue like one too. And then begins the scratch. That cracked me up. You know the silent laughter I laugh, when it becomes impossible for me to laugh any more helplessly?

Then I couldn’t help it so I asked G what Puchki was up to last night, making that strange noise jumping about on the giant pink stuff toy hippo’s stuffed foot. “Masturbating,” said Gayatri matter-of-factly. Imitation Round 2. In the kinky mind, I’m sure it already gives rise to plenty of ideas.

It would be of vital importance to describe Gayatri here.

My landlady is a short, stout Assamese 35-year-old. Well endowed, but not pretty. Neutral features, the Bollywood costume designer knows how to look good in whatever she’s clad – and she knows in what to be clad. A trendy haircut and clear skin, Gayatri is a strict landlady when it comes to tidiness. She is clean, hygienic and extremely minimalist-stylish. And considering the amount of screaming she does at Tania for leaving the house in a mess every so often, she does not come across as someone who would be funny. However, I wouldn’t call her menacing per se.

So I’ve seen Gayatri do the occasional jig of a Freddie impersonation in her high pitched voice, “when you call him to slap him also he comes wagging like-this, like-this (and she’ll do a little butt wiggle) and come as if to say ‘yes yes slap me now!’” Freddie’s a total simpleton. You kind’a come to expect dumbness out’a him. But really he’s just the tolerant man of the house, who takes shit from ALL the bitches in the house and keeps them humoured. And sometimes be the butt of their humour.

But mentioning Lucy’s romp was just the thing to get Gaay started. Since she wanted to avoid having to get out of bed in the middle of the night, and have the act carry on elsewhere, the hippo went into the living room. As Lucy followed close behind, Gayatri went, “Go! Go have fun with your King Kong Hulk boyfriend!”

And as Lucy turned to have a go at her new giant dildo, Gayatri says casually, “her tail is longer than her body.” Lucy the spitz is the strangest little hooch. I didn’t think lapdogs would be so hilarious – not only to look at but also in their mannerisms. She jumps all the time. She jumps when she runs, she jumps when she barks at Fifi, she jumps when she greets, she jumps when she wants a chewy, and of course, she jumps when she’s jerking off. Lucy is one jumpy bitch. If ever there was one.

And then there’s Fifi. Fifi and I have found each other. When I’ve barely opened the gate of our building complex, Fifi is already at the door waiting in anticipation. What of? Frankly, is still a mystery. All I do is play ball with her. But the deep blue doe eyes (a dog with doe eyes, yeah right) are the nicest thing to wake up to each morning and come home to each night. And the ivory ringlets are almost a dog’s-world representation of Belinda’s locks from La Belle Dame Sans Merci.

Sometimes I identify with Fifi. Sucker for a little bit of love. Slave of just the tiniest gesture.