n case you didn’t know, ‘Pasoori’ is actually Pakistan’s national song, just like Shahid Afridi is Pakistan’s national lala. It’s not official, but enough people are into it to make it real. Over the last couple of years, we’ve put the lyrics on a t-shirt, quoted them IRL, and the most anglicized child in the land can sing it. That’s the hallmark of any remarkable piece of art, isn’t it? It will be attractive in ways that capture the attention of all demographics.

That’s what ‘Pasoori’ did to Pakistan. But it wasnt just the song. It was Ali Sethi’s voice, and Shae Gill’s voice; it was the presence they both had in the video together and individually. A very special kind of spell was cast with ‘Pasoori’, and we are still in its thrall.

Then of course, Bollywood came out to play. To be fair to Bollywood, it is Bollywood, and a certain level of Bollywoodification is to be expected from any song that crosses the border to make it to the big screen. We’ve got everything from Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s ‘Kinna Sonha’ reincarnating as ‘Kitna Pyara’ in Raja Hindustani to Tassawur Khanum’s ‘Tu Meri Zindagi Hai’ being the soundtrack to Mahesh Bhatt’s Aashiqui, to ‘Nach Punjaban’ in Jug Jug Jeeyo. Bollywood may have the more vibrant film industry and robust soundtracks, but Pakistan makes a very specific brand of music, regardless of genre, that can turn imagination.And so it isn’t really surprising that so much of it makes it to Bollywood.

What we keep forgetting about is the fact that Bollywood takes some super grave songs and turns them into what can be only described as bopping ditties. For instance, who but Viju Shah could transform the devotional ‘Dum Mast Qalandar’ to ‘Tu Cheez Bari Hai Mast Mast’ for Mohra? And who but a pelvic-thrusting Akshay Kumar could do justice enough to the visual of this tune, without offending any sentiments too much. A very hot Raveena Tandon helped too.

But sadly for Bollywood music directors, Pakistan, along with crushing poverty, debt, and stunning taxes on the salaried, also has the internet now. We see everything. We can’t do anything about it necessarily, as we are really broke all the time and trying to find ways to power our lives without electricity and gas (in all seasons), but we can make fun of it. We are champion meme makers, and by god, everyone is political. You can’t escape our humor; it is the national coping mechanism.

If the Satyaprem Ki Katha version of ‘Pasoori’ was just a filmi version of the song, perhaps we could take it. If all it did was turn some very intense lyrics to that palkein, aankhein, dil nonsense, we would still dismiss it gently. If all it did was have Kartik Aaryan dancing like he’s in an Aditya Chopra dream sequence, we’d take a few pokes, and settle back. But this song commits all the aforementioned crimes, and to lay the final straw on our collective backs, refers to ‘Pasoori’ as a “global hit”.

So now when a Pakistani song crosses the border, and 9/10 times, sucks, we notice, and we will make fun of it. To that end, we must remember that Bollywood is the industry that made the film Rock On, and believed that the soundtrack was what actual rock music is meant to sound like. Farhan Akhtar even hummed out ‘meri laundry ka ek bill!’ while accepting some award centuries ago. That’s how proud he was of that music. These guys think any old watered down version of a powerful piece of music is epic. That’s the musical diet they’ve grown up on.

On the other hand, they have taken some okayish music that no one would have heard of otherwise, and made it iconic. Try remembering the last time someone said, “hey, I know what, let’s dance to Omar Sharif’s hot single ‘Larka Badnam Hua’ at your brother’s mehndi!’. You can’t, because this has never happened. A lot of us have danced to ‘Munni Badnaam’ at miscellaneous weddings though, enough times to actually block some of the iterations from our minds permanently.

With ‘Pasoori’, Bolly took a risky gamble. The song took Pakistan by storm, it gave us Shae Gill, it gave us an artistic video, it gave us Ali Sethi fashion in full force, and it’s a Coke Studio song.You don’t mess around with our cola-generated music.

If the Satyaprem Ki Katha version of ‘Pasoori’ was just a filmi version of the song, perhaps we could take it. If all it did was turn some very intense lyrics to that palkein, aankhein, dil nonsense, we would still dismiss it gently. If all it did was have Kartik Aaryan dancing like he’s in an Aditya Chopra dream sequence, we’d take a few pokes, and settle back. But this song commits all the aforementioned crimes, and to lay the final straw on our collective backs, refers to ‘Pasoori’ as a “global hit”.

Obviously, the music listening section of Pakistan is very irritated, to put it mildly. The foremost complaint is that of India liberally applying Pakistani materials to their commercial canvases. The second is obviously, taking a very compositionally and lyrically strong song and turning it into a fluffy film tune. Lots of social media comments wonder why the rights were sold to T-Series at all, which is a non-issue. The owner of the rights to the music can do as they please with them, at their discretion, and all of us are absolutely within our rights to find viable streams of income.

That leaves the final issue hanging: Bollywood, if it is listening at all, should remember why Pakistani music is often brought and bought into soundtracks: because it is solid, genuinely good music. The vocalists that have done playback over in India stood out for a reason. But if you make a Shafqat Amanat Ali sing a ‘Sajda’ (My Name Is Khan) it doesn’t do his vocals justice, specially since we know he can sing like he did on ‘Mitwa’, we have to wonder if these resources are being used justifiably. We can’t argue that songs and artists from Pakistan have found new heights of fame and hopefully wealth with their Bollywood assignments, but it would be cool if they too, had some creative say. Getting somewhere isn’t the same as making it there, and in this case, that goes both ways.