Dhwanii - Issue No. 1

B-Sides

- Ameen Merchant

Ameen Merchant holds a post-graduate degree in Literature and Cultural Studies. His articles and reviews have been published in Canadian, Indian and American journals and magazines. He is currently the arts/cinema/culture critic for New Quest and Image magazines.
It is Dhwanii's good fortune that he has agreed to be a regular columnist, as part of our permanent feature B-Sides.

It’s a state of acceptance without thinking. It’s also being smug without truly knowing, and listening without really caring. At its best, it is cool and trendy, and at its worst a symptom of a deeper, more deluding malaise. It’s called WhoGivesAToss.

(Or, Drivel Is King. Let’s work with DIK, while never forgetting that WhoGivesAToss is the proper scientific term for this condition. DIK is very catchy.)

How did things get to be DIK?

What was it that came with the airwaves (and the water,) that lulled and dulled us into this inexorable state of complacency? When was that beginning, that moment when the so far potentially-sublime, began a slow spiral into the fast paced, and profoundly-meaningless? Such growth (some people, actually many, see it as a “growth”) in what’s really losing-it-but-not-knowing-it is sophisticated but essentially soul-less. DIK, in fashion terms, can be summed up as GothGlam.

But here’s what puzzling:

Why, why, why is it getting to be well known (making its name, if you will) in the Indian film music industry? Uppar and Neechche, Bolly and Kolly? In this pocket of the world, by all accounts, DIK is more than true to its name (which is WGAT the world-over, don’t forget.) Here, in this moist and sweaty clime, you can see DIK’s total power. Its command over a mind-boggling constituency of millions who have been tune-washed into believing that meaning is not meaning, hearing is not hearing, and thinking, well…that was the first one to go.

I’ve heard many a spin (and a narrative, real life, swear) regarding this phenomenon. It ranges from the positively glowing - the “growth” side, and sneeringly deploring - the “death” side. One says technology and free markets have put us on the map like never before, and the other grunts that it is a map drawn on muck. Are my children really going to learn good Tamil or Hindi listening to this Indipop all the time? Bad enough, it is English in school all the time! Some parents have seemed so desolate. On the Information Highway you either drive or you stay home, the younger ones have asserted, with metaphoric plug-ins and pragmatism. A few of the same have flung the word “nostalgia” at me with new-fashioned contempt (I’ve asked them to meet up with me at The Gap.) And then there are those who are yet undecided. Too little choice, they say. DIK will get you anyway, if it hasn’t already. How can you keep it out? It is the Tune of the Land.

You are far away, so thank your good stars.

But not as much as you would think, I protest. The Information Highway cuts through here as well. And so does something resembling Hope.

What do I think? DIK is not terminal.

That’s an important thing for me. And while I am aware of how constant indulgence may wreak havoc with my sensitive (to language, pronunciation, culture, ethos) spots, I can take adequate measures to keep me from reaching the point of no return. Once you have a strategy of defense, you can buy yourself some time. Not much, yes, but still enough to rage and recoup. Here’s my list of twelve antidotes (and I can only recommend this to you wholeheartedly):

1. Expect More.

2. Demand Listener Respect (Don’t ever hesitate to blurt: How dare you peddle me this puke?)

3. Clean your ears regularly.

4. If you are into downloading songs from the Internet, or listening to them as MP3 files – stop the transfer if you hear the synthesizer in more than two tunes. You sure must have better things to do (Tell yourself this, and mean it.)

5. Don’t take techno wizardry for real. If that were indeed the case, it wouldn’t be called wizardry, yeah?

6. Be ruthless with ARR (AR Rahman) clones (You shouldn’t mess with a good thing, but don’t cut the original any slack either.)

7. Be curious, seldom naïve.

8. Hold on to your sense and value for authenticity.

9. Try to sing the song, as much of it as you can remember, after listening to it twice. If you can’t recall anything but the first line, you are this close to DIK. Delete all song files and stick to instrumental or just flute music.

10. There is a difference between enthusiasm and excellence. Learn to distinguish. Commend the first, but always insist on the second.

11. Never ever use words like “cute” “nice” “best” or “great” as descriptors for DIK. Use words like “garbage” “absurd” “empty” “insulting” – as often as you can. That keeps the bilge at bay (and also feels good.)

12. Write letters, reviews, messages and manifestos of genuine discontent. Repeat: Speech is Life. Silence is Death.

Of course, there are no assurances that any of this will work, or for that matter, bring you any instant rewards. No, this is not the AirMiles Program, sorry.
Its also true that things have to get a lot worse before they can actually begin to get better. And for all the pessimism in that knowledge, there is also a lining of undeniable hope. Sooner or later, DIK will be overthrown. Until then you’ve got to believe in the individual power of resistance and discernment.

And, frankly, a fuss is a must.