learn to love Himesh

"I just hate him for no reason… Maybe cuz he looks like a hallucinating monkey on steroids with a mic… Period…" - Comment on the Himesh Reshammiya Hate Club on Orkut

I was all set to hate the guy. I mean, ugh-factor wise, Himesh Reshammiya has a lot going for him. Starting with his singing. It's not that he sings through his nose. (As the fellow rightly pointed out in some recent interview, many great singers - past and present - have sung using their olfactory passages.) But, it's a fact that when he hits those high C's, he has me real nervous. All that straining and pushing. I hate that. You see, I like to enjoy my music without having to worry about whether the singer is about to pop a hernia.
Then there is the matter of those caps. It's not that he wears one all the time. (The hottest bets right now in the satta bazaar is whether the cap comes off during…you know…) Or that those seven-and-a-half of what looks like greasy strands of hair that emerge from the back of the cap isn't quite the stuff you'd dreamily want to run your fingers through and entangle with your heart strings. But truth be told, they're a far sight better than those marmalade highlights in Aby Baby's hair weave and we won't even talk about that unmentionable thing that sits on top of Anu Malik's pate these days. My point, however, is that it's not easy to love a fellow who admits to owning more than 2,000 baseball caps. Shoes, yes, and it can be a long stretch from Blahnik to Gucci - paved with at least 3,000 pairs as dear ol' Imelda showed us. But baseball caps? And how tough does that make your morning? Nature is refusing to call, you are about to record a song perched in octaves that promise to burst your haemorrhoids and you have to choose from 2,000 identical looking baseball caps? I tell you - it's not easy being Himesh Reshammiya. And it's even less easy to like him.
It's not that his range of facial expressions are as many as the number of words in every line of his song - three. It is that they are that of a man who has a) just got a whiff of his armpit after a two-hour ride in the 6.33 pm Churchgate-Virar fast; b) has just been propositioned by Mayawati; c) has just got a whiff of his armpit after a two-hour ride in a Churchgate-Virar fast just after he has been propositioned by Mayawati.
And that's irrespective of whether he's looking at mouldy bread or Bipasha Basu walking across his balcony, wearing just a jewel in her navel.
It's not easy to like Himesh Reshammiyya. It's not that he sings through his nose….I've been through that already? Oh so what? Because I just remembered that I have another point to make.
It's not that he sings through his nose. But that his buddy Shekhar Suman invites him as a guest on The Great Indian Laughter Challenge and says of him, "Khuda ka sukr hai ki yeh naak se gata hai. Jis din yeh kambakt gale se gaane lagega, toh sab industry se bahar ho jaoge" Rough translation: "Thank God, he sings with his nose, because the day he sings with his throat, he'll clean the clocks of every top Hindi film playback singer in the country." We tremble, Shekhar, we tremble…
It's not easy to like Himesh Reshammiya. But I know that I am part of an insignificant, miniscule minority. Because the country loves Himesh; the besotted nation croons his songs and swoons in orgiastic ecstasy; wears caps that never come off in a show of "We Adore Himesh" solidarity, and if we are to believe a recent article in the Times of India, the country may have even stopped smiling as a tribute to its newest unsmiling god.
So who cares if the very first thing that pops up on Orkut when you type "Himesh" in the search box is a Himesh Hate Club with 30,224 members. That's not even loose change compared to the millions (billions?) who adore and worship him.
Oh, come on, you mutter - isn't that a bit of an exaggeration? Well, look at the facts. Thirty six chart-busting songs in two years. A nomination in every major award function the last two years and a Filmfare Award in 2005 for Best Male Playback Singer for the song that he both sang and composed - Aashiq Banaya. It's a feat that even R.D. Burman could not achieve. Then, in October last year, Himesh Reshammiya became the first Indian to perform at the Wembley Stadium in London. And as we went to press, we also got to hear of Himesh appearing on Koffee with Karan. There, his butt will soon rub the same hallowed Koffee…sofa cover other more illustrious butts have, and he will officially be anointed a star. And that's another feather in his cap (don't ask me which one!)
But, I still found it difficult to like Himesh Reshammiya. Not that I didn't try. I diligently and bravely trawled the seas of the internet (thank you, YouTube!) and watched and listened Himesh talk, sing, act and do everything other than musically fart Aashiq Banaya. But I didn't get any closer to having even a soupcon of kindlier feelings towards the guy.
Instead, I ended up with a crashing headache. Not because the nasal thing can really drill holes right through your temporal lobes (it can) but because I couldn't get the dratted thing out of my head. Jhalak Dikhla Ja, Jhalak Dikhla Ja, Ek Baar Aaja Aaja Aaja Aaja Aaaa Jaaa, Ek Baar Aaja Aaja Aaja Aaja Aaaa Jaaa…
There was only one thing left to do. I watched Aap Ka Suroor. Not voluntarily, mind you, but because I thought it would be unfair to write this piece without watching what has been dubbed the biggest hit of the year. So? Immortal cinema? Nope. Rivetting storyline? Nope. Brilliant, mesmerizing acting? Puhleez.
The whole thing was a two-and-a-half-hour PR makeover exercise for a poor, misunderstood, sweet, simple, god-fearing rock star who doesn't have an arrogant bone in his body. A man so steeped in good phamilee values that when a girl brushes against him, he hears the Gayatri Mantra. Did I say rock star? Am I talking about the lead character in the film? Of course. HR. Don't you get it? Himesh Reshammiya. It was amateurish, clumsy cinema smothered with Rs. 20 crore-plus worth of gorgeous Baden-Baden and Black Forest locales that made the medicine go down rather smoothly, I must admit.
In other words, what a crock. But about five minutes into the film, when I was all ready to switch off the DVD player, this happened. Himesh is in a car with his sidekick Shravan, who is loudly saying French phrases to himself, apparently in an effort to learn the language so that he can impress women. Himesh reminds Sharvan that they are in Germany, not France.
I know, says Shravan, but all women love French. That's only if a Frenchman speaks it, says HR, and when the undaunted Shravan continues his French practice, Himesh says exasperatedly, "Tu toh mera naak cutwa ke rahega." (Literal translation - you will have my nose cut.)
To which the irrepressible Shravan responds, "I would never ever do that! How could I?! Because if I did, how would you be able to sing?" And the two of them burst into laughter! You can forgive a man a lot for that. For sheer chutzpah, audacity, cheek, nerve, sauce and for thumbing his nose at his detractors. You can forgive a man a lot for that. For singing through
his nose, owning 2,000 baseball caps, and for his kind of arrogance and acting that would make a cricket bat seem like Al Pacino, Dilip Kumar, Jack Nicholson and Naseeruddin Shah all rolled into one.
You can even forgive a man who at the sight of Mallika Sherawat's furiously gyrating, gorgeous, barely clad hips continues to look like he has been propositioned by Mayawati.
Which leaves only a few unfinished matters. Does Himesh take his cap off in the film? Yes, but it's a close-up so cunningly composed and revealing so little that he might as well have not taken it off. (Look at what a pass things have come to. There was a time when we hyperventilated about whether the heroine was going to take her clothes off or not. Now the country's got its knickers in a twist wondering whether Himesh Reshammiyya will take his cap off. Sigh.)
Do we get to know why he doesn't take his cap off? Nope, but don't despair. Himesh has promised a sequel to the moviee in which he will tell all!
Talking of caps and sequels, here's a thought. In Aap Ka Suroor, Himesh did a rip-off of Mehbooba Mehbooba in order to….we don't know really why. Perhaps to kiss and make up with Asha Bhosle who apparently said she wanted to slap him after he added R.D. Burman to his "hey-they-sang-through-their-noses-too-but-did-they-have-36- hits-in-one-year" list? Anyway, we suggest that in his next film (Aap Ka Suroor -2, the Movieeeeeeeeeeee and Seakwell), he does an item number. Finally, a question. Why did Himesh get recognised at the Ajmer dargah? Because he wore his cap on top of the burqah.