This female friend of mine had her Facebook status "Lets have some fun, this beat is sick, i wanna take a ride on your disco stick" when this song came out. I wonder what this disco stick is. I have a feeling, lady gaga outsourced the translation job to someone in jhang and got the aforementioned lollywood song translated into english and earned millions in revenue. Atleast give some royalty to the humongous poor woman in the video.
For people who still didnt get the point, i never said pyar ki gandheri is any better. I wouldnt waste my words arguing over how popular music should have evolved. thats a different story altogether. This post is a little different. Im not more fervid pakistani than you are, still i just put the non-english speakers and english-speakers on the same scale of love, hate or indifference. think about it, we're just promoting imperialism and capitalism and cementing the class divide, arent we. A schismatic society based on shitty values and shittier upbringing. I am not just attacking the parents here but everybody who plays a part till the kid graduates from kgs. Its sad how kids and teenagers in schools these days are taught just snob-ism. Are they actually taught how to ridicule urdu, mock non-english speakers, hate the made-in-pakistan tag? where the fuck is this remotely bilingual, snob-pack coming from then. English is the key to power as far as the modern, employment-based domains of power are concerned. Though i partially agree, I passionately dissent from nigger-ing of urdu speaking monolinguals, ostracizing them completely.
Sprouting of a dozen 'Language Centers' and 'English-medium schools' in every urdu-speaking street of Karachi tell the sad tale of this identity-blurring of our society. Maybe they can guarantee your smooth hobnob with the much desirable social groups. But no, I dont blame you. I blame the Kaala Pul.
I am ending this random blurting with a short poem. I have always been captivated by the simplicity and economy of these words by Tagore.
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake
