Shall I Kill Thee Or What?

I believe, this is the song the Indusian Army played as an endless loop for our prisoners of war back in 1971. They set all 90,000 free once convinced that the soldiers had absorbed enough of Bollywood fantasy.

Now for the reason I decided to do a parody of this song. Had I known that traitors received such a fine musical treatment before being hacked to digital ones and zeros, I might have chosen to play a double game instead of being a freedom (Farida’s dumb) fighter. Nevertheless, knowing me as you all do from Chowq, I would rather put up a good fight than blow myself up for Hades. Keeping in mind the recent conspiracy at Chowq, the characters in the video are:

The poser hero, wearing a military uniform and shown tied to a pillar, is actually the nemesis, the anti-hero; let us call him speci-man ‘F’.

The heroine, really an aunty, may be called speci-woman ‘L’. Together, F & L, make the F1½ Auto Racing Losers’ Team. Appropriately tied to a pillar, Miss ‘L’ wears a revealing dress.

The vengeful dancer might look like one of the avid supporters of my fan club (C3), but I assure you, she is only a hired lookalike; the real handler is hidden under the fake villain’s wooden throne. Let us label the vengeful dancer as speci-woman ‘VD’.

Also, notice that although the lookalike heroine and the aunty heroine belong to opposite camps, they have managed to colour-coordinate their pink wardrobes.

I know how my Chowq-disabled adversaries would love to see me in that despicable villain’s role, but I assure you that that can never ever be the case. To fool the enemies, I always drink Makkah Cola using a Coca Cola bottle. I might appear drunk with power but again that is never the case. I am always in charge of my senses just as the aunty heroine is in control of her double game. And the designer belt—adorned with real cartridges (‘kaartoos’)—I am wearing around my waist is purely there to keep my shalwar from slipping off—something that must be avoided at all cost during the proceedings of an important public trial.

The treatment the fake hero gets is enviable to the hard core. With so much of fake anger flying about, I would not mind being tied to one such lamppost until judgement day. I can see many of you alpha-males nodding your heads in an affirmative thinking that one certified vengeful dancer (VD) might be a better deal than seventy-two uncertified virgins are.

The song is from the movie: Mera GaoN Mera Des (my village, my country). It starts with the entire Chowq readership watching aghast as I make a horrible example out of the C3 traitors.

At 00:41, the C3’s vengeful dancer—‘VD’ for short—performs a hat-trick slap routine on the chief conspirator. While the dazed aunty heroine (speci-woman ‘L’) looks on with disbelief, I, with unusual cynicism, take a sip of Makkah Cola while reclining on a soft pillow. Here we go with the song and its de-coded lyrics:



Shall I kill thee or let thee ride scot-free?
Bull! To what school shall I send thee?
[Watch the cool skirt-manoeuvre here! She repeats the same offer to speci-woman ‘L’.]
Shall I kill thee or let thee ride scot-free?
Bull! To what school shall I send thee? – 2X
Shall I bestow upon thee a (free membership of my fiery) gym (O fake Romeo)?
Or (fresh-squeezed) venom?
Shall I kill thee or let thee ride scot-free?
Bull! To what school shall I send thee? – 2X

[VD washes the fake hero’s face with the same sweet water she herself has drunk—an out-of-script move, considering that she is out to poison the poor fellow.]
[More dance by the VD follows. She then grabs a 6-inch knife and heads for ‘F’]

I rattled mine glass bangles, and spread mine (shampooed) hair – 2X
But to thee, chain, yes chains, yea yea
To you, appealed a chain
Shall I imprison thee (in Guantanamo), or let thee go scot-free (without a surety bond)?
Bull! To what school shall I send thee? – 2X

[I drink more Makkah Cola while VD, at 2:39, tears off the silly disguise ‘L is wearing and proceeds to make a kitchen-duster out of. I ask for a fresh bottle of M-Cola and watch the show with fake disbelief. Having dined and then wined, by now the fake G-men of my original fan club are seen lying unconscious on the floor—they were unconscious to begin with.]

[At 03:00, VD does something that I never authorized but then, maybe I did; who can remember petty details? VD cuts the strings of the embroidered dress ‘L’ is wearing and gives her the public ‘exposure’ she craved for.]

Laughter cometh on thine tail (now that I have stepped on your tale)
Mercy (also) cometh on your (wasted) youth
Laughter cometh on thine tail (now that I have stepped on your tale)
Mercy (also) cometh on your (wasted) youth
Today (19 November, in the year 2009 of our Lord) thou art on mine, thou art thou art are on mine
Thou art dependent this day on MINE mercy
[At 04:36, VD comes sit by my side—something that I did authorize.]
To break it, or to mend the heart
Bull! To what school shall I send thee? – 2X
[By now, VD has her knife on the right arm of ‘F’]

[The remaining, apparently sober, G-men collapse the moment they have taken liberal sips of the infamous dog-killer whiskey called 100 Dogs. VD continues to cast a spell with her skirt and, very suggestively, lowers the lantern’s flame. The M-Cola bottle slips out of my hand and, from under my soft pillow, I pull out a flashlight to shed more light on the proceedings of a public trial with a happy end.]

O flyer mosquito of an extinguishing candle
What is thine last wish, O Must Ana?
[VD cuts up the sorry face of ‘F, in the same democratic spirit the Americans possess at Camp X-Ray.]
O flyer mosquito of an extinguishing candle
What is thine last wish, O Must Ana?
Today thine grey(matter) banned
Thine, thine (you swine) grey(matter) banned
Today thine grey(matter) banned, O devious wanna-be
Shall it be Chowqed or be left (un-banChowkqed)?
Bull! To what school shall I send thee? – 2X
Shall I kill thee or let thee ride scot-free?
Bull! To what school shall I send thee? – 2X

[In the end, I pretend to be in drunkard’s Nirvana but in truth, I am slyly watching the proceedings reach their logical conclusion.]