Random Musing #13: Why this Judwa song is the perfect anthem for economic liberalisation in India

Tan tana tan tan tan tara is to music what Cryuff Turn is to football, the Tendulkar cover drive is to cricket, and the lyrics of Every Grain of Sand to Abrahimism.

Satyajit Ray, who stands among the pantheon of Bengali Quadrinity—along with Tagore, Maradona, and Didi—gods who can’t be criticised without dire consequences, once argued that the Indian audience was largely backward, particularly, because they were exposed to “commercial Hindi cinema”. 

Now, at the risk of having my Bengalihood rescinded, I must humbly disagree. 

The truth is that many commercial Hindi films have deeply entwined messages that might not be visible to those who can see but are apparent to those who can see. Gunda, for example, is clearly a metaphor for the myriad challenges faced by India in the 90s, as illustrated by Arnab Ray’s (another very talented Ray) excellent blog on the subject. 

Rang De Basanti, on the other hand, is the perfect anarcho-communist anthem wrapped in the fig leaf of patriotism and, therefore, palatable. The same goes for many Bollywood songs.

Main to Raaste Se Jaa Raha Tha, from David Dhawan’s Coolie Number 1, is honestly, as I’ve written before, the requiem for unabashed individualistic capitalistic consumerism, a rebel song against a socialist society’s shackles and judgement.

Tujhko mirchi lagi to main kya karun is the same lament to a society built on groupthink where the rights of a larger group have always preceded individual rights. It evokes Sartre’s notion of radical freedom, pointing out that an individual’s right to act must transcend all rules. 

The same goes for popular Bhojpuri songs, which are often derided for being salacious, but most people miss the point of how the songs with their constant reference to movements (Aara Heele Chappra heele, Umar Hai 17, heela dungi Chhappra) are clearly paying a subtle tribute to Galileo’s moment of abjuring the truth when he was charged with heresy by the Catholic Church for saying that the Earth wasn’t at the centre of the universe, where he had supposedly uttered in protest: “Eppur si muove.” 

Today, we will revist another song from a David Dhawan classic movie, Judwa, that was way ahead of its time, though my better half, as Telugu people are wont to do, assures me that the Telugu version starring Nagarjuna titled Hello Brother, which itself is a remake of Jackie Chan’s Twin Dragons, is much better. 

Judwa was a movie ahead of its time. Oonchi hai building, lift teri band is clearly the very first Bollywood song exploring the concept of consent from a feministic perspective where the protagonist, despite his own desires is asking his lover what he ought to do about his lust which can’t be unleashed without her vocal permission. 

However, the piece de resistance is the song titled Tan Tana Tan Tan Tan Tara (here on referred to as T6), which is such a leitmotif for economic liberalism that it should’ve played during Finance Minister Dr Manmohan Singh’s speech during his budget address in 1991 when he got up and assured the august house that India’s emergence as a major economic power was en route and “no power on earth could stop an idea whose time had come”. 

Nothing could’ve captured the sentiment better than T5 encapsulating the hopes of a beggared nation looking to capitalism to uplift millions from poverty and also tantalisingly warning people about the Mammon-like greed that will consume greed itself. 

T5 is to music what Cryuff Turn is to football, the Tendulkar cover drive is to cricket, and the lyrics of Every Grain of Sand to Abrahimism. It’s a glimmer of hope to counter the sigh of the oppressed, a promise of a better world, the light at the end of the tunnel. 

While the lyrics might sound like the words of a lover trying to entice his paramour for a proper night of fun at the cinema, the well-trained ear will pick up the hopes and dreams of a nation beggared by Nehruvian socialism, where one had to stand in line for a thousand days to get a scooter or a telephone connection. 

Even the visualisation, like Picasso’s Gurneica, captures the angst, with Salman Khan in a very poorly cut DIY vest, showing how beleaguered Indians have been left to fend for themselves in a socialist dystopia. 

The next few paras will demonstrate what I mean. 

Aankh lada ke toone mara

Ghayal ho gaya dil bechara

Suna hai tere chahne waale

Aage das hain peechhe baarah

Mujhko apna chaand bana le

Chamka de kismat ka tara

The overtures to foreign companies for FDI are clear, telling the world that India is ripe for foreign investment, and while other countries might also have something to offer, they would never be able to compete with the “moon” that’s the market potential of India, which would clearly shine like a star. 

Ek baar se dil nahin bharta

Mud ke dekh mujhe dobara

Tan tana tan tan tan tara

Tan tana tan tan tan tara

On the other hand, the song also introspects about the glutton-like consumption that will become the norm once the Levantine has set its foot on scorched earth, not unlike, say, the Muscovites who ended up eating at the first McDonald’s in 1990. 

Raat ki show ki do ticketein hain

Khol ke purse dikhlaoon

Chipak ke baithoon sath tere main

Taxi mein le jaaoon

Samajh na mujhko aisa waisa

Mere batuye mein hai paisa

Tujhe khilaunga jee bhar ke

Garam samosa, idli-dosa

Tu meri hai Pepsi Cola

Main tera hoon Coca Cola

Interval mein piyenge dono

Baraf mein laga hua mangola

Perhaps the least subtle part of the song that announces the protagonist has a lot more spending money and also hints at the loosening of social mores, that often goes hand-in-hand with rising consumerism. After all, the original sin was a mix of lust and gluttony.

In its own way, T5 is a requiem for a dream, a hope, and a lament at the same time: a cry for what used to be and hope for what can be. To quote the great Malthusian Thanos: “As long as there are those that remember what was, there will always be those, that are unable to accept what can be. They will resist.” T5 tells us that resistance is futile and that even though there are those who remember what was, they will realise that what comes will be much better. 

Today, as India is on the cusp of becoming the third-largest economy, Dr. Manmohan Singh’s borrowed words from Victor Hugo are a reminder that the Indian economy’s time has time, even if his party doesn’t get to reap the benefits that come with being the head of the state of an economic force like this, that even gives leeway to bump off errant voices across the world.

On the other hand, it’s sad Ray wasn’t around when the movie was released because in it, he would’ve realised Indian cinema’s ability to tickle the intellect, even if it’s in a commercial sense, in complete contrast to Ray’s neorealism. And, one imagines that he would’ve found that enlightening. 

Erratum: My very educated father just pointed out that I got the title of the song wrong. It should be Tan tana tan tan tan tara and therefore it ought to be T6, instead of T5. I apologise for the mistake and solely hold Titivillus responsible.