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The men’s hostels of engineering colleges are interesting places (and interesting is putting it mildly). Musty corridors — routinely cleaned and yet exuding odours comprising everything from second-hand smoke to the whiff of drying laundry and dimly-lit rooms crammed with an assortment of beds, desks, and chairs.
It was one such hostel, memories of which still tug at the corners of my mouth, forcing it into a reminiscing smile, where I discovered ‘cringe pop’ long before the term itself was discovered.Back then, we didn’t have a label to describe the loud Bhojpuri and Haryanvi fare that we laughed at during many a sleepover. I had no idea that such music even existed, before my friends from up north in college introduced me to it — it was their way of having a laugh, they said; and it stayed as just that.
Why go down memory lane? If you’re frequenting the Internet, you, dear reader, must surely know of the controversy and cacophony surrounding the latest bit of cringe pop that the web has been obsessing over — ‘Aunty ki Ghanti’. Doesn’t ring a bell? (Terrible pun intended) It goes something like ‘ Bol na aunty aaun kya , ghanti mein bajaaun kya [Tell me, aunty, should I come, should I ring your bell]? ’. Well, long story short: This song, dating back to December 2015, was picked up as fine meme-making material by a few comic pages. The Internet caught on, and there were events on Facebook where the now famous line I mentioned above was to be screamed out in public events at venues like Connaught Place in Delhi; and such events actually took place.
Then, the rest of the lyrics were heard, and their misogyny dissected, and the outrage brigade swung into action, calling out the song (I did this too) and how supposedly ‘feminist’ Internet agents helped popularise and glorify it.
How many of us have danced along to Punjabi music stars talking about ‘easy’ women? I haven’t seen rants asking for such songs to be taken down from YouTube or lengthy articles elaborating on their misogyny.
Generally, that’s the last phase of the Internet outrage cycle. But things were to get uglier. A website did a rant video , with the anchor calling for the song to be taken off YouTube and threatening a harassment case against the singer/rapper, call him what you will. The song was taken off, but because of a copyright claim. However, the fans of this singer did not get that one tiny detail, and assumed the song was taken down because of the rant against it. They then went on an online rampage, deplorably threatening the anchor with physical violence, among other deplorable reactions.
Now that the dust is slowly settling, there are a few aspects of this latest online racket that are baffling. First, the fact that viral content websites and pages popularised a song that is no doubt crass, despite them crowing from the rooftops that they fight misogyny. Now, either they did not listen to the full song or they did and went ahead with milking it for online engagement anyway. Both are perturbing prospects. One such website embedded the song’s YouTube video in a story it did on the lyrics being screamed at Connaught Place and even informed its readers of a similar event in Mumbai. The same website in another story later talked about the situation spinning out of control and called it a ‘misogynistic track’, thus letting irony complete a full circle, scratching its head.
The second is the bigger question: Are calls for the song to be taken down against freedom of speech, something that we liberals claim to fight tooth and nail for? Why is it that our idea of freedom of speech has become exclusive to what we want to say or think is right? The song didn’t directly call for violence, nor did it slander or defame anyone. If anything, it was just another crass, misogynist song added to the lakhs already out there (more on this later). Why was it singled out, then? Because it was going viral and hence made to generate engagement? Because it was a soft target? Or because it was a ripe prospect for some good-old armchair journalism/activism, where a well-timed video with a rant grabs attention and clicks? My guess is as good as yours, dear reader.
Calling for something to be banned is trampling on freedom of speech. And unlike the not-so-long-ago days, where discourse was in the hands of the erudite few, social media has taken this very discourse to the doorstep of everyone with an Internet connection. Some of these folks have not had a voice for too long, their space stomped out by the few seeking to establish their bastions all over it. But now, everyone can claim space, and they have come to hit back with a vengeance.
Asking for ‘Aunty ki Ghanti’ to be taken down was clearly the last straw. For many, like my friends in engineering, such cringe pop is limited to laughing at or dancing along. Implore that it should be banned, and they will see us as encroaching on their space, which we arguably are.
How many of us erudite — or to borrow from Internet lingo — ‘woke’ individuals have enjoyed a western rapper, pop artist indulge in misogyny in their lyrics? How many of us have danced along to Punjabi music stars talking about ‘easy’ women? I haven’t seen rants asking for such songs to be taken down from YouTube or lengthy articles elaborating on their misogyny. Is there perhaps a class bias? That we are okay with ‘hoe’ but not with its vernacular translation? Why are we allowed our revelling in misogyny, and others aren’t?
The ‘holier than thou’ argument no longer works. Because those who make up the ‘thou’ aren’t quiet any longer. Their reactions and methods are deplorable, as the racket and threats post the ‘Aunty’ controversy showed us. But it’s time we picked our battles wisely, and also looked inward, lest our double standards begin to show.
