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Bale Bale!

In full cry: Daler Mehendi. Click for bigger pic!

Daler Mehendi released his latest album, Ho Jayegi Bale Bale on Saturday. He met N C Srirekha during his whistle-stop tour of India.

If you don't mind his chubby cheeks, like crab apples were stuffed into them, you could be forgiven for agreeing with the description of him as a 'Smart Surd', surd being the fond Indian appellation for all things Sikh, deriving from the term sardar. But a surd, all non-mathematicians must know, is the irrational root of a rational number. So it isn't very pleasant way of being addressed.

Tight black jeans, tweed blazer over a black T-shirt with a matching turban make the off-stage Daler Mehendi look trimmer than he does wearing the traditional lungi and kurta which he dons while, to the beat of Bole tara ra ra, he hops as if someone had stomped on his toes.

Daler modestly brushes aside the title of 'Sexy Surd', the term some Punjabi kudisuse to describe him.

"Arre nahi, yaar," he denies the charge, his ears and rounded cheeks reddening, "How can I call myself sexy -- short, fat and a father of three?" No matter, he has had the young 'uns doing the bhangra ever since his first album, Bolo Ta Ra Ra, came out. They took enthusiastically to his second offering, Dardi Rab Rab and must just have got their hands on Ho Jayegi Bale Bale, his latest, which was released on Saturday. For results, check the nearest discotheque.

The pasha of Punjabi pop -- or the badshah of bhangra, as his music promoter Magnasound likes to call him -- was available for a very short interview at the beachside Hotel Holiday Inn in north Bombay. The interview is at 2.30 pm since he has to catch the 5 o' clock flight to Delhi.

He breezes in -- not easy for someone of his girth -- you hear a "Hello, ji" in a strong Punjabi accent, get a whiff of a vague perfume and, before you nod in enthusiastic response, he's gone. To attach himself to a telephone and conduct a telephonic interview with a local radio station. The guys at the other end want him to croon a few lines from his new song down the telephone. But he excuses himself. "Bad throat, sorry," he says fruitily.

Fifteen minutes later, the radio station says thank you, goodbye, and Mehendi is back with you.

"Haanji, boliye, main apki kya seva kar sakta hoon (Yes, how can I help you?)," he squeezes in before being summoned to the phone again. Yes, another interview, with a leading newspaper. Five more minutes later he settles down before you again, instructing his promoters to lay off for a few minutes. But he's got this host of distracting hangers-on, who keep interjecting with a "Paaji, ek gal karni thi..." or "Paaji, yeh T-shirt aur jeans khareed lein...," "Paaji taaiim (time) horasi, jaldi karo..."

Daler Mehendi with Amitabh Bachchan in Mrityudaata. Click for bigger pic!

Seven minutes. Seven lousy minutes to speak to the man, speckled by interference. Clearly, this interview was going to be a wee bit different.

Flustered, you couldn't find a better question than the most cliched. "So what's this new album all about," you inquire

The reply is weary, worn from repetition, "It's another high-powered, raw energy album".

To save him trouble, we'll describe the material within. Hojayegi Balle Balle -- a 'dancing' number is a regular floor burner, in disco jargon. Yug Beet Gaye, the only 'slow' number, and Tere Mithde Ni Lagde Bol -- surprise! surprise! -- a dandiya song. Now that's real Indian fusion, bhangra with dandiya.

Then there is the more orthodox bhangra, Umaran langiyan and Saade dil te chhuriyan chaliyan. Dilruba sounds the more interesting while Tere mere pyaar nu is supposed to take one back to Daler's folk roots.

"I hope, like my earlier albums, people like this one also," he says humbly. Going by the sales figures of earlier albums -- promptly supplied by the promoters -- it could be mistaken for false humility. Bolo Ta Ra Ra sold 1.2 million copies and Dardi Rab Rab, 600,000.

For those who know Mehendi only as that turbaned guy in the diamond-studded royal blue robes, flailing his arms alongside Amitabh Bachchan in Mrityudaata, this sturdy Sikh hails from Bihar.

Singing was an obsession with him as long back as he can remember. At six, his father taught him a few bhajans on the harmonium. He was ten and living in Benares, where he met a group of artists on their way to a performance in Jaunpur. He joined the motley bunch -- he forgot to inform his family -- and went on to give the first live performance of his life.

When his family finally tracked him down, they found him on stage, his shoulders bowed down with garlands of flowers, sandal wood and money. Before him was a crowd of 10,000, applauding him.

With that kind of debut, education kind of lost its charm. Mehendi left school after the six standard and sought a guru who who would bring out the best in him. He was living in Gorakhpur then.

One day, he heard a voice that entranced him. Only problem: it was on radio. He traced the singer, Ustad Rahat Ali Khan of the Patiala gharana. Mehendi had found his guru. He even did a stint with ghazals before finding that his voice jelled best with his native folk form -- the bhangra.

Mehendi bagging a Channel V award Click for bigger pic!

Mehendi migrated to the US and back and then found his groove, keeping toes tingling, spreading the bhangra fever. He found he had this ability to keep the crowds on their feet for over four hours with an mix of his own compositions, Punjabi folk songs, Hindi film numbers and even the latest in international hits.

Proof of his popularity came when Amitabh Bachchan roped him in to sing and act in Mrityudaata. The film failed, Amitabh failed, but Mehendi's Na na nare was an unqualified hit. The foot-tapping number even caught the attention of an enterprising ad-film maker who lifted the lift the tune to aid the sales of a cheaper brand of synthetic saree.

Mehendi denies he is bigger than Bachchan -- we aren't discussing weight here -- having passed muster when the big B didn't.

"No, Amitabh doesn't really need me or anyone for that matter to make his film a hit. He liked my Dardi rab rab and thought it would be a good idea to use it in his film. It is my good fortune that the song became a hit."

After Mrityudaata, Mehendi was flooded with offers from producers, who perhaps hoped he could do their films a power of good. He refused.

"No, no playback singing for me. I will only be singing songs filmed on me," he says.

Mehendi likes reggae music. Perhaps, it's something to do with its repetitive nature, something like the names of his albums. His other favourites in music are Begum Akhtar, Jagjit Singh, Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, Barkat Ali Khan, Salamat Ali, Nazakat Ali, Khan Saheb Abdul Rehman, Pandit Jasraj -- and Inner Circle. What, no Apache Indian?

We are also at a loss to explain the fact that Chinese food tickles his gastronomic fancy. Though its easier to understand why he thinks the world is beautiful thanks only to the females of the species.

Despite that consoling factor, how does he keep that carefree demeanour, juggling video shoots, new albums, films, live shows, travelling etc?

"Oh, it is very difficult. In fact, I haven't even had breakfast since morning." That must be excruciatingly painful.

Daler Mehendi and Amitabh Bachchan in Mrityudaata. Click for bigger pic!

But this hectic schedule has left their mark on his videos. They all look the same. There's little variation...

"Who has the time to think up new steps?" he asks you. "Rather than try something half-baked and risk a flop, I prefer go for my tried and tested dance routine, which is already popular with the audiences."

What about those girls clad in skimpy near-nothings in his videos? Don't they play havoc with bhangra tradition?

Mehendi nods agreement. "Look, at best, bhangra allows for a lungi, a kurta and a pagri which people have been seeing for the last 40 years. Now they wouldn't want to watch the same old thing all the time. That's why we try out different costumes."

He adds in the thickest of Punjabi accents, "Culture-vulture ko kuch nahi horaha hai. Jo hai wohi dikha rahe hai. (Nothing's being done to culture -- vulture being a Hindi colloquialism -- and we are showing things as they are)."

It's 3 pm and time to catch his flight. He is urged along by solicitous assistants who want to make those last minute purchases of jerseys and T-shirts.

But hey, you aren't finished yet. "Where do you find yourself among the mushrooming bhangra pop singers today?" you squeak through the din.

"Who are they? Can you name some?" he asks you in return. He must know that Magnasound, his promoter -- is grooming two new bhangra pop singers -- Bhipinder and Mahinder.

But noticing that you are waiting for an answer, not another question in response, he replies: "I am still a struggler. I am not competing with anyone nor is anyone competing with me. I am going my way; they are going theirs. No one's come even close to me."

Amen to that.