Monthly Archives: August 2013

Back to school and stuff.

Hi guyssssssss. :)))

How’s it going? That’s good. You know what? Forget posts with actual topics, why don’t we just chat this post? We haven’t had a good chat in a while. Let me go grab some cha and snacks, I’ll be right back 🙂

….

…..

Reader! Hey, Reader! It’s me, Voice of Reason! Do you think M is acting a little…odd?

What was that, Voice of Reason?

M! Oh! I-I didn’t see you coming. I was just saying…you’re acting a little…

Differently?

Well, yes.

Weird?

I didn’t say that…

Anxious? Jumpy? CRAZY???

M, CALM DOWN!!

Calm down? C A L M  D O W N? YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT TOMORROW IS???

Tomorrow? The–the 26th of August?? Oh. Seriously? The first day of school? Yeah you definitely need to calm down.

Calm down? CALM DO–

Stop.

Yeah, ok. Sry.

Yes, it’s true; I’m going back to school tomorrow. Anyone else in the same boat? Anyone? I SAID, IF YOU’RE GOING BACK TO SCHOOL TOMORROW, PUT YOUR HANDS UP!

handsup

AND IF YOU’RE NOT GOING BACK TO SCHOOL TOMORROW BUT YOU’RE GOING TO SOLDIER THROUGH THIS POST ANYWAYS, PUT YOUR HANDS UP!

handsup

Can you tell I watched DDLJ this week?

Ok, so yeah. School tomorrow. My bus comes at 6:45.

*Moment of silence for me please.*

*Even longer moment of silence for the kids in my county who’s bus comes before 6 (for real)*

Fun times…

No , but I am kind of excited for school to start though, as usual. I’m taking some pretty cool classes, like Visual Arts II. You better believe I’m about to draw some baller pictures of Punjab that are actually going to be so bad that they’ll end up looking like portraits or something, but whatever. On the other side of things, I’m taking an Honors math class for the first time in a year.

I’m all for challenging myself, but Academic level math classes have historically been more my speed. But hopefully since I’m a senior now, I have accumulated enough self-awareness of what I need to do to succeed academically, even if I am outside of my comfort zone. Whaddup colleges reading this right now.

jk.

No but if there are actually college admissions officers here, I promise my essays have better grammar then my blog

😀

Speaking of being a senior, that’s going to be a thing this year. What does this mean though? Am I supposed to…like…demand lunch money from freshman? No I so couldn’t do that. I’m too afraid of germs. Money germs.

Well there it is. This post just reached a new level of weird.

Okay, real talk about school though–sometimes it really does get rough. What with the work, the clubs, and the drama. It’s a lot to deal with. So to all you guys who are in school right now, I want y’all to be walking into your school with a big smile. Do what you have to do to make yourself feel like a bawse. Dress in what makes you feel good, be around the people you want to be around, listen to your music to get you pumped up! Some songs I recommend to do so:

Another thing that keeps me going during my day is remembering Malala.

The fact that she and so many other children risk their lives to attend school reminds me what a blessing it is. School, I mean.

Sorry if this suddenly took a turn for the serious lol.

Aight guys, I got to get to sleep because…I…have school tomorrow…WERE YOU NOT READING THE POST?!

I see you.

🙂 M

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50 DESI FACTS ABOUT ME

Sorry if this is weird don’t judge me pls. 

1) My favorite Bollywood movie is Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Gham.

2) Teri Meri Kahaani is a close second.

Also Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge

3) Sometimes, I get insecure about my skin color.

4) I’m a proud Sikh.

5) That being said, I rarely go to Gurdwara. Maybe once every couple of months. 😦

6) If I could rename my cat, I’d name him Shamsher, because he is in fact a brave lion.

7) I’m not fluent in my mother tounge, Punjabi.

8) I bought a hijab from my local Islamic store 🙂

hijab

That’s it ^

9) I have a weird yet strong appreciation for Laila Majnu. I haven’t read it yet, because I’m lame.

10)  My favorite Jusreign video is probably Insanity at the Mela.

11) I don’t love a whole ton of spice in my food. #NorthIndianSwag

12) I love the smell of mendhi.

13) At least two of my great grandparents were Pashtuns.

14) I wore a Pajama Kameez to my Junior prom.

prompajamakameez

15) Whenever I see a brown person, I ask him/her where he/she’s from. Unless I get shy.

16) My mom was born in Delhi, because that’s where her dad’s family had moved after the partition.

17) A Thousand Splendid Suns helped influence my love of South and Central Asia.

18) In my dreams, I’ve visited India, Pakistan, and Afghanistan.

19) I took classical Indian singing lessons as a young’un. 

What? What else do you think of when someone says “Indian” and “singing” in the same sentence? Lata Mangeshkar. That’s what you think of. 

20) Complete real talk here, sometimes I look at Zayn Malik and just take a moment to be proud of a desi boy who’s made it so big.

Same with Harminder Singh Dua.

21) Sometimes when I hear about a hate crime against a Sikh, or really anyone, I don’t read about it or find out what happened or even blog about it. I’m pretty sure it’s something psychological, and hopefully I’ll grow out of it.

22) Unfortunately,  I don’t have a lot of Punjabi friends, because I don’t live near a lot of Punjabis. 

nopunjabifriends

23) My  favorite part of a Gurdwara service is when Gyani Ji takes the Vakh.

24) I’ve been mistaken for a Hindu.

25) I’ve been mistaken for a Muslim.

26) I’ve been mistaken for a white person.

27) I’ve been mistaken for a Hispanic person.

28) Aaaaand a Native American. I don’t know what to put as pictures for these…

29) When he was a child, one of my grandpas saw people being beheaded and set on fire during the partition.

30) Gulab Jammuns are my favorite dessert.

31) I aim to be fluent in Punjabi, Urdu, and Pashto.

سلام عليکم

30)  I’ve conisdered wearing a dastar, and it’s still something I might decide to do one day.

31) Youtubers played a big part in educating me about my own culture. Especially this guy.

32) Only one of my grandparents was born in India. The rest were born and raised in present day Pakistan.

33) One of my family members claims that Jay Sean is our very distant cousin.

English: Jay Sean at Bamboo Romania

English: Jay Sean at Bamboo Romania (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

34) I think Italians and Punjabis are very similar people.

35) I’ve been called a terrorist.

36) Salwar Kameezes are my favorite thing to wear.

37)  Idk if this is right or not, but I consider every one of these countries Desi. The only one I think I might be wrong about is Afghanistan. But whatever. They’re my homies anyways.

desi

38) Yes, I too have tried to reenact the Kajol towel scene. 

kajoltowelscene

39) I might go to India for the first time this year.

meandindia

40) When I eat Indian food, I usually eat North Indian food. However, I LOVE dosas, which are South Indian.

41) For some reason, I love saying the word “Mujhe,” completely out of context. I think it’s because I hear it in Bollywood movies all the time, and I didn’t know what it meant until recently. Mujhe. 

42) I can’t pronounce one of my family members’ last name. I physically can’t.

43) 3 of my grandparents are from cities, and one of them is from a lovely pind.

We think this picture was taken in her pind. 

44) My doctor told me that one of the genes I have means that I’m decended from Alexander the Great’s troops from when they were in India. Unfortunately, it’s the gene for Thalassemia. Thanks man.

“No prob.”

(Luckily I only have the gene, not the disease.)

45) 3 years ago, I had trouble pointing to India on a map.

46) Next to Punjab, Kashmir is the #1 place in India I want to visit.

47) On Rakhi, I tie a Rakhri on my brother, and he ties one on me 🙂

I wanted mine to be blinged out and he didn’t disappoint. 

48) I get a tad frustrated when people say “typical Indian features,” because there’s really no such thing. Indian features are so diverse, you know? (Even though I’ve probably said it before too lol)

She’s Indian too!

49) I’ve only been to maybe 3 or 4 Indian weddings. (And I’m scared of jacking someone’s wedding picture…so enjoy this picture of my cat reaching for his medicines instead. )

50) Blogging with you guys has made my love for Desi stuff grow 10 fold 🙂

Huge Red Heart

🙂

-M

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SPARK NOTES DESI EDITION–WUTHERING HEIGHTS (IF WUTHERING HEIGHTS WAS AN INDIAN DRAMA)

So I’ve been reading Wuthering Heights for school. I actually love it so far–however, it wasn’t long before I had to acknowledge that it was basically an Indian soap opera. Let me explain.

Oh, real quick, for those who are familiar with Wuthering Heights, here’s a lil glossary:

Waliyah Hodge Podge– Wuthering Heights

Tumhara Garage–Thrushcross Grange

Lakhdeep– Lockwood

Jagat– Joseph

Hrithik– Heathcliff

Young Charan– Young Catherine (Catherine’s daughter)

Hiral– Hareton

Heer– Hindley

Charan–Catherine

Naila–Nelly

Ehan Saab–Mr. Earnshaw

Eshan Lal–Edgar Linton

Ishana Lal– Isabella Linton

Lal Hrithik– Linton Heathcliff

I’m skipping to chapter 4 bc the beginning is boring. But just know it involved a lot of crazy ish like dogs and a ghosts and tearful meltdowns….okay that makes it sound not boring…but it was!! I promise!! Come on! I mean it’s basically like Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Gham–the best part is when the aunties start talking about ten years ago! Everyone wants to fast forwards the first 10 minutes! Don’t lie. You do. But okay, I guess I’ll give a quick summary–

Basically what had happened was this guy Lakhdeep who’s narrating the story at this point has just moved into a house called Thrushcross Grange (Thumhara…Garage)

Thumhara Garage

and so he goes to pay his landlord a visit at the house he (the landlord) lives at: Wuthering Heights (Waliyah…Hodge Podge)

Waliyah Hodge Podge

When he goes there, he meets the elderly servant Jagat, who’s rude and obnoxious. Think Kreacher in Harry Potter in book 5. Also at the house is the landlord himself– Hrithik; Hrithik’s dead son’s wife–the Young Charan; and some other random guy, Hiral. And basically what happens here is just a lot of awkwardness and tension (they don’t even offer Lakhdeep cha)  and nobody at this house seems happy and later when Lakhdeep tries to leave he gets attacked by dogs and he has to stay the night, and this housekeeper lady leads him to this room that nobody ever goes in (SO WHY WOULD YOU HAVE HIM STAY THERE??) and he goes to sleep and encounters a ghost of a little girl, but he thinks he’s dreaming so he is like whatevs and then he tells Hrithik about it and Hrithik is like “OH CHARAN COME BACK I MISS YOU.” So Lakhdeep is like “deuces,” and he goes home and asks his maid, Naila to tell him what’s going on with this crazy family, and basically in chapter 4, she begins the actual interesting part, where Lockwood finds out…

Years and years ago, Naila was a servant at Waliyah Hodge Podge. She grew up with the children of the house, Heer and Charan (NOT Young Charan, who we were introduced to earlier. That girl was THIS Charan’s daughter. But okay, moving on.)

waliyahhodgepodgekids

Heer and Charan, with Naila in the middle

Heer and Charan’s dad, Ehan Saab, went on a business trip one day to Goa. Heer, Charan, and Naila ask him to bring stuff back for them, but instead he brings a kid.

*DRAMATIC MUSIC*

While in Goa, Ehan Saab had found a little boy wondering around, and was like “Chalo, I’ll take him home.” So Heer and Charan are like wth is this, and basically they don’t like the kid. At all. Even Ehan Saab’s wife is like “Someone needs to hook this kid up with some Fair and Lovely or some ish.” But either way, Ehan Saab is like

indiandad1

“Naila, put him in the kids’ room. He’ll sleep with them.”

In that thunderous Indian dad voice. But later that night, Heer and Charan are like “Naila, don’t you dare make us sleep with him.” So Naila is like “Umm…” and ends up just leaving him on the stair landing lol. Ehan Saab finds out though, and banishes Naila from the house. However, Naila knows that, like all Indians, Ehan Saab is just full of hot air, so she knows she can just come back in a few days. Which she does, only to find out that they had named the random little kid Hrithik, and Charan and him had become super tight.

supertight

But everyone else still hates him, including Heer. Oh, but Ehan Saab doesn’t. In fact, he demands that Hrithik be treated like family. But the only person who DOESN’T hate Hrithik with every fiber of her being is Charan.

Me at this point–

*Hrithik and Charan = OTP*

Okay, so time goes by, Heer is super mean to Hrithik, and Hrithik is oddly unresponsive to him and his meanness. But soon, Ehan Saab gets sick. Then this doctor is basically like “Yo Ehan, your son is super obnoxious. Also why is he not a doctor?! ” And so Heer, being the oldest of the kids, goes away to college. And one day when he’s gone, Ehan Sahib straight up dies in front of the whole family.

bhauji

And no 19th century household was complete without a man of the house! So does Hrithik step up? Or is Heer invited back? And who will he bring with him?? Will Hrithik and Charan’s friendship blossom into something more? Find out next time on Spark Notes Desi Edition–Wuthering Heights!!

….See what I did there 🙂 ? THAT IS FIRST-CLASS CLIFF HANGER SON! LIKE DANG.

Sometimes I hit on my own writing. It’s fine.

Haha no I hope you guys enjoyed this weird backwass. For real, I hope it wasn’t terrible. It might have been. Probably was. FORGIVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. 

And I know most of you guys like to be silent beings of the night, but I REALLY appreciate when you hit that like button and comment and share and all that stuff. And I also want to say a BIG THANKS to everyone who shows love on the regular (I’m looking at you, Jenny :)) and I’d love to hear what you guys think I should write about, if you have any suggestions! And that goes for anyone–if you liked this, let me know, and maybe I’ll expand it, with other books as well. Or if you like something else I did, tell me!

Also, WordPress’s new feature (which I actually LOVE) is suggesting I include this picture. So I figure why not:

hrithik small

(Photo credit: VIKI 96)

Bye Hrithik.

I mean bye guys.

-M

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Oak Creek–A Year Later

It’ll be a year ago tomorrow–August 5th, 2012.

I had been in San Francisco for a couple of days by then for my uncle’s wedding. It had been the best couple of days, all leading up to the big one. On the 5th, I woke up, ready to witness my uncle get married. This day was also my grandpa’s 79th birthday. He was with us in San Francisco as well. Unfortunately, when I woke up on the 5th, it was neither my uncle’s wedding nor my grandfather’s birthday that everyone was talking about. I walked into my grandparents’ room, and their little t.v that was nestled in the closet was turned to CNN. The headline was something along the lines of

“Temple Shooting, Oak Creek, Wisconsin.”

My grandma saw me looking at the screen and said, “A gurdwara.”

I was 5 at the time of 9/11. I didn’t know what it was like to see the word “Sikh” on a t.v screen. After 9/11, my mom remembers seeing the word in the news every now and then, reporting a hate crime against a Sikh. Eventually, news coverage died down for crimes like these, but everyone in the Sikh community new they still happened just as often. But there was something about August 5th, 2012, that was such a shock. A Gurdwara. It happened in a Gurdwara. Maybe it’s because I’ve always considered my religion and my Sikh practices something separate from the rest of the world. I’ve never lived somewhere where there is a large Sikh community, so naturally I’d become used to saying things like “temple” or “church” instead of “Gurdwara,” and “my religion” or “my culture” instead of “Sikhism.” It wasn’t that I was ashamed of any aspect of my religion, it was just that I knew that that part of my life was something unique to my family, and not everyone would understand the words we use to describe it. And so to see the words “Sikh” and “Gurdwara” in mainstream news was really the strangest thing. It was one aspect of my life, one that it felt like no one else had ever known of, and all of a sudden, everyone was talking about it. It felt like everyone was talking about me, like it was me in the news. After getting ready, I remember being dropped off a short walk away from my uncle’s house, where the ceremony would take place. I had just gotten off the phone with my mom, who called us from the East Coast, to make sure we were okay. And as I walked up the street, I couldn’t stop the tears as I thought about what had happened some states away from me. People had gone to gurdwara on this Sunday, as we do, they did their Matha Taik, as we do, and sat down for Kirtan. How was it that some of them were now dead? So easily, so easily, that could have been me. On the Sundays I go to Gurdwara, that is me. To me, those things are so personal–Gurdwara, Matha Taik, etc. How had someone gone in to that space with the intention to kill? As a Sikh, I’m used to hate crimes against people like me. But this one was so invasive. It wasn’t a Sikh man walking down the street who was shot, or a Sikh woman in her car that was pushed off the road, but it was a man who went into a Gurdwara, our safe place, the one place where we are completely comfortable with our identities, and shot and killed us. Yes, we’re used to hate crimes. We’re used to being called names. But Oak Creek was like, in one moment, everything we’ve been through reached a boiling point.

Although the pain of Oak Creek was, and still is, hard to bear, it was obvious from the beginning that something positive would come from it. For once, it seemed that more people than just us had noticed this crime against us. Many different communities showed respect for our small one.

oakcreek1

At least this tragic event, in an odd way, put Sikhism…on the map? That sounds weird, but it really did raise awareness of who Sikhs are. At least it got people wondering, you know? And, even though Sikhs aren’t often in the news, every time we are, I am constantly proud of how we present ourselves. It was notable, after this tragedy, that, instead of closing our doors in fear, Gurdwaras all over the world, including Oak Creek, welcomed people of all religions, as we always have done. Gurdwaras are open to whoever wants to sit, listen to prayer, or even just eat a warm meal. And not even this could shake that.

A year later, there are still hate crimes. Just this week a Gurdwara was vandalized. However, progress has been made also. Hate crimes against Sikhs are now tracked by the FBI–something the son of victim Parmjit Kaur testified in favor of. In fact, check out his whole speech. It really is worth it–(It’s copy-pasted down below, but I can’t get it nicely formatted, so you can read it HERE instead if you wish).

“My name is Harpreet Singh Saini. I would like to thank Senator Durbin, Ranking Member
Graham, and the entire subcommittee for giving me the opportunity to be here today. I am here
because my mother was murdered in an act of hate 45 days ago. I am here on behalf of all the
children who lost parents or grandparents during the massacre in Oak Creek, Wisconsin.
A little over a month ago, I never imagined I’d be here. I never imagined that anyone outside of
Oak Creek would know my name. Or my mother’s name. Paramjit Kaur Saini. Or my brother’s
name, Kamaljit Singh Saini. Kamal, my brother and best friend, is here with me today.
As we all know, on Sunday, August 5, 2012, a white supremacist fueled by hatred walked into
our local Gurdwara with a loaded gun. He killed my mother, Paramjit Kaur, while she was
sitting for morning prayers. He shot and killed five more men – all of them were fathers, all had
turbans like me.
And now people know all our names: Sita Singh. Ranjit Singh. Prakash Singh. Suvegh Singh.
Satwant Singh Kaleka.
This was not supposed to be our American story. This was not my mother’s dream.
My mother and father brought Kamal and me to America in 2004. I was only 10 years-old. Like
many other immigrants, they wanted us to have a better life, a better education. More options. In
the land of the free. In the land of diversity.
It was a Tuesday, 2 days after our mother was killed, that my brother Kamal and I ate the
leftovers of the last meal she had made for us. We ate her last rotis – which are a type of South
Asian flatbread. She had made the rotis from scratch the night before she died. Along with the
last bite of our food that Tuesday…came the realization that this was the last meal, made
by the hands of our mother, that we will ever eat in our lifetime. My mother was a brilliant woman, a reasonable woman. Everyone knew she was smart, but she
never had the chance to get a formal education. She couldn’t. As a hard-working immigrant, she
had to work long hours to feed her family, to get her sons educated, and help us achieve our
American dreams. This was more important to her than anything else.
Senators, my mother was our biggest fan, our biggest supporter. She was always there for us, she
always had a smile on her face.
But now she’s gone. Because of a man who hated her because she wasn’t his color? His religion?
I just had my first day of college. And my mother wasn’t there to send me off. She won’t be
there for my graduation. She won’t be there on my wedding day. She won’t be there to meet her
grandchildren.
I want to tell the gunman who took her from me: You may have been full of hate, but my mother
was full of love.
She was an American. And this was not our American dream.
It was not the American dream of Prakash Singh, who had only been reunited with his family for

a few precious weeks after 6 years apart. When he heard gunshots that morning, he told his two
children to hide in the basement. He saved their lives. When it was over, his children found him
lying in a pool of blood. They shook his body and cried “Papa! Get up!” But he was gone.
It was not the American dream of Suvegh Singh Khattra, a retired farmer who came here to be
with his children and grandchildren. That morning, his family found him face down, a bullet in
his head, his turban thrown to the side.
It was not the American dream of Satwant Singh Kaleka, president of the gurdwara who was
killed while bravely fighting the gunman.
It was not the American dream of Sita Singh and Ranjit Singh, two brothers who sang prayers for
our community and were separated from their families for 16 years. Their wives and children
came to this country for the first time for their funerals.
It was not the American dream of Santokh Singh or Punjab Singh who were injured in the
massacre. Punjab Singh’s sons are by his side day and night, but he may never fully recover from
his multiple gunshot wounds.
We ache for our loved ones. We have lost so much. But I want people to know that our heads are
held high.
My mother was a devout Sikh. Like all Sikhs, she was bound to live in Chardi Kala – a state of
high spirits and optimism. She was also taught as a Sikh to neither have fear of anyone nor strike
fear in anyone.

So despite what happened, we will not live in a state of fear, nor will be make anyone fearful.
Like my Mother, my brother and I are working every day to be in a state of high spirits and
optimism.
We also know that we are not alone. Tens of thousands of people sent us letters, attended vigils,
and gave us their support – Oak Creek’s Mayor and Police Chief, Wisconsin’s Governor, the
President and the First Lady. All their support also gave me the strength to come here today.
Senators, I came here today to ask the government to give my mother the dignity of being a
statistic. The FBI does not track hate crimes against Sikhs. My mother and those shot that day
will not even count on a federal form. We cannot solve a problem we refuse to recognize.
Senators, I also ask that the government pursue domestic terrorists with the same vigor as
attackers from abroad. The man who killed my mother was on the watch lists of public interest
groups. I believe the government could have tracked him long before he went on a shooting
spree.
Finally, Senators, I ask that you stand up for us. As lawmakers and leaders, you have the power
to shape public opinion. Your words carry weight. When others scapegoat or demean people
because of who they are, use your power to say that is wrong.
So many have asked Sikhs to simply blame Muslims for attacks against our community or just
say “We are not Muslim.” But we won’t blame anyone else. An attack on one of us is an attack
on all of us.
I also want to be a part of the solution. That’s why I want to be a law enforcement officer like Lt.
Brian Murphy, who saved so many lives on August 5, 2012. I want to protect other people from
what happened to my mother. I want to combat hate – not just against Sikhs but against all
people. Senators, I know what happened at Oak Creek was not an isolated incident. I fear it may
happen again if we don’t stand up and do something.
I don’t want anyone to suffer what we have suffered. I want to build a world where all people
can live, work, and worship in America in peace.
Because you see, despite everything, I still believe in the American dream. In my mother’s
memory, I ask that you stand up for it with me. Today. And in the days to come.
Thank you for considering my testimony.

The more times I read Saini’s testimony, the more respect I gain for a man who I already admire. Although he spoke hardly over a month after his mother passed, he articulated so many things that needed to be said, and he did so very well. “So many have asked Sikhs,” he says, “to simply blame Muslims for attacks against our community or just say ‘We are not Muslim.’ But we won’t blame anyone else. An attack on one of us is an attack on all of us.”

Such are the true teachings of our religion. It may sound corny, but I truly believe our Gurus are proud to hear someone who has endured so much pain be able to maintain a love for the rest of humanity, and not blame other religions for the problem, which is really the cause of this whole thing anyways. And he’s right. Hindus endure this kind of thing, and lord knows Muslims do too. So blaming each other really isn’t the solution.

So I don’t know how to wrap this up. Words of wisdom? Idk.

Just love, I guess. Love yourself, love Sikhs, love Muslims, Hindus, Christians, white people, black people, Desi people, Arab people, Hispanic people, just love them. Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Don’t be afraid to converse. And that goes for all of us. White people, brown people, me, you.  Just have an open heart. Educate yourself. Don’t see someone as just their religion, and don’t solely focus on your differences. Because really, we’re all just trying to live in this world.

In memory of Paramjit Kaur, Satwant Singh Kaleka, Prakash Singh, Sita Singh, Ranjit Singh, and Suveg Singh, and in honor of Lt. Brian Murphy.

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Bollywood Music =/= Punjabi Music

*This post consists mostly of videos, so please click them to get the most out of it! : ) But you don’t have to if you don’t want to! But I would! Okay. See you in the actually post. Love you. Bye. 

**Oh wait, also, I’m so so sorry for not posting this Sunday! I was at my grandparents’ house helping them get ready to move to a different city. I should have foreseen that I wouldn’t be able to write a post, I’m sorry :/

So y’all know I love Bollywood, right? Because I do. But there are some things about Bollywood that make me kind of go

whatareyoudoing

One of these things is when Bollywood tries to do Punjabi music. They just can’t seem to get it right. Except for that one time that they did…

Not one gosh darn Punjabi function goes by without this beautiful song. Thank you, Lehmber Hussainpuri. Thank you :’)

But that’s besides the point. Usually when Bollywood tries to recreate Punjabi/Bhangra music, it ends up going something like this:

Nagada Nagada. Great song, but it just doesn’t do justice to traditional Punjabi folk music. So basically what I’m trying to get at here is, if all you’ve heard of Punjabi music is Bollywood’s attempt to do Punjabi music, you have not heard Punjabi music. *Pats your shoulder*  I know, I know. You’ll be okay. I’m here to help you fix this. Below are some prime examples of  bumpin’ Punjabi music that Bollywood just can’t seem to touch.

 

1) Bhagra Ishq Da

Basically the translation that’s not really the actual translation–Bhangra music is love’s grandpa. Lol. 

2) Chite Suite

Basically the translation that’s not really the actual translation– Look at this man I got a stain on my white freaking suite oh wait maybe this is a metaphor bc I didn’t intend to fall in love with you and my love for you is like a stain on my usually cool, heart-breaker ‘tude.

3) Sona

Basically the translation that’s not really the actual translation–Why you gotta wear all that bling? girl you ARE da bling, YA FEEL?!?

4) Moorni-Balle Balle

I still don’t know if it’s called Balle Balle or Moorni…but Basically the translation that’s not really the actual translation– You’re basically a fine peacock-like specimen, where are you going with your peacock self?? Balle balle.

5) Promiscuous (The Josh Desi Remix)

 

 

Okay, so not exactly a 100% traditional Punjabi song, considering it’s mixed with Promiscuous, but it’s so freaking good! Punjabi people tend to like Hip Hop, and mixes like this that are done SO WELL DONE make us extremely happy : )

And yeah!  I know that Bollywood music is pretty popular these days, but  Punjabi music isn’t as well-known.  So I’m really interested to know what you guys think! Also, I know this was on the short side, but stay tuned, I’ve got a long one for you this coming Sunday!

See you then!

-M

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