Category: Culture | Cinema | Ethics
Tags: Folk Music, Bollywood, Bihar Culture, Gangs of Wasseypur, Cultural appropriation,Controversy ,Hijacked
Have you heard the soulful Sasural Genda Phool or the iconic Rang Barse Chunar Wali from Silsila? These are not just tunes set to catchy beats—they are Chhattisgarhi and Uttar Pradesh folklores that have carved a lasting space in the hearts of millions. Rooted in regional traditions yet carried forward by Bollywood’s wide reach, these songs blend cultural authenticity with cinematic charm. Their melodies echo with generations of stories, celebrations, and community spirit—proof that folk music, when honoured, never fades.
These fokelores belong to the people, carried forward as oral traditions, evolving with each generation as communities shape them through lived experience.
We grew up surrounded by countless threads of folklore woven into our everyday lives. For instance, in our village, nearly a month before Holi, we would start assembling every evening on the chabutra at the heart of the village. For two to three hours, voices would rise in unison as we sang Hori songs—joyful, teasing, soaked in colour and memory. One person would set the beat with a gentle thapki on the dholak, coaxing a steady rhythm from its taut skin, while another shook the jhanjhar in time, its metallic jingles weaving through the melodies like tiny bursts of laughter. The music created a spell, drawing everyone into its pulse—an unspoken invitation to let go, to belong, to celebrate.
Similarly, A week before Holi, we children would gather every evening, sacks slung over our shoulders, going door to door, knocking joyfully and singing in chorus:"Jay jajamani tora sone ke kebadi do go goitha da!" — which literally means — “O revered patron, may your doorway be adorned with gold — but please give us just two cow dung cakes!”That playful, sun-drenched childhood — chasing each other barefoot, singing age-old folk verses, collecting cow dung cakes like treasure, and laughing till our stomachs hurt — was priceless.
Ahh, what glorious and mischievous days those were!
Not like today's childhood, where fingers scroll screens more than they touch the soil... where memories are stored in cloud drives instead of the heart.
Echoes of some of these folklore spirit still make their way into Hindi films, often turning into super duper hit songs that blend tradition with mass appeal.—the most iconic being “Hori Khele Raghuveera” or "Rang Barse Bhige Chunarwali", which beautifully captures the essence of traditional Hori folklore.
& then I heard "Jiya tu Bihar ke Laala" in a film — basically a Bihar folk song in a new jacket. But guess what? Nothing was new in this song. Still The credits say: Lyrics by Niraj Grover.
Not even a passing nod to the original folk roots. No “adapted from a Bihar folk tradition.” Nothing.
Oh silly me — I forgot. When the elite borrow from the masses, it’s not called theft. It’s called “artistic inspiration.”
My bad. Next time I’ll remember the rule: Steal smart, call it creative.
Oh no, no shade to Niraj Grover — he did absolutely nothing. Literally. Didn’t write the song, didn’t direct the scene, didn’t even object to the blatant misuse of the soul of Bihar’s folklore.
A perfect bystander in the great cultural heist — watching silently as a centuries-old melody was dragged onto a blood-soaked set and told, “Dance, peasant.”
The real artist-in-charge here is "Anurag Kashyap", who thought, “You know what this bloodbath needs? A soulful Bihar folk tune!”
Because obviously, when centuries of tradition echo through a melody, the best use of it is to accompany... a bloodbath.
So again, here’s my humble question to the visionary- Mr. Kashyap:
Was there no pause, no reflection, before turning Bihar’s musical legacy into a soundtrack for savagery?
Was there really no better place to park Bihar’s folk soul than in a puddle of cinematic blood?
A song that echoes through village grounds, chanted by Bihari children to uplift their teammates during local games—was it right to strip it of its innocence and reframe it as a backdrop to violence?
Some basic sense of moral responsibility should have been exercised.
After all, when a cultural treasure is borrowed, it deserves respect—not distortion.
This blog explores both the artistic impact and the cultural dilemmas posed by this creative choice.
Folk Song vs. Film Song: A Cultural Contrast
Traditional folk songs in Bihar aren’t penned in air-conditioned studios with coffee in hand. They rise from the dust of the fields, from mango groves and mud courtyards—sung during harvests, weddings, and village fairs. These songs are not written, they are lived—passed down like heirlooms, reshaped by grandmothers, farmers, and festive chaos.
But then cinema steps in—puts a spotlight, a beat drop, and a bloodbath on it. “Jiya Ho Bihar Ke Lala” becomes less about cultural pride and more about cinematic swagger. Because apparently, nothing says “authentic Bihar” like gangsters with guns dancing to a wedding tune.
Sacred? Sentimental? Doesn’t matter. As long as it gives the audience goosebumps before the next bullet is fired. The song, once meant to honour the land, is now background music for body counts.
And somewhere, the village that gave it birth is left wondering: since when did our celebration become your climax scene?
What the Film Did Well
The only thing the film got right was preserving the authentic tone of the song. At least they didn’t tamper with its raw, rustic energy. Just imagine if the makers had romanticised it—dressed it up with synthetic beats or glossy visuals?
Just listen to “Nazar Lagi Raja Tore Bangle Pe” — the original is soft, rooted, and alive with emotion. But its remake? A pale, plastic version. The soul has been stripped, repackaged, and sold — all sparkle, no substance.
This is what happens when folk music becomes a commodity instead of a cultural memory.
That would’ve been an even greater injustice.Can This Be Justified?
Yes—if the purpose is to challenge, critique, or comment on violence through irony.
No—if the folk song is merely used as an aesthetic device to dramatize brutality.
The intent behind such creative choices matters. Gangs of Wasseypur may have intended to expose the rot beneath local power structures, but it also carries the burden of not misrepresenting cultural memory.
What Could Have Been Better?
A song like “Jiya Ho Bihar Ke Lala” was never meant to accompany a scene of violence and revenge. Its roots lie in pride, perseverance, and the undying spirit of everyday people. It’s not just a tune—it’s a heartbeat of Bihar’s folk tradition, echoing with grit and resilience.
Have you heard Priyanka Chopra’s “Dil Toh Jiddi Hai”? Or Kangana Ranaut’s empowering anthem “Panga”? Or above all, the cheeky yet inspiring “Bapu Sehat Ke Liye Tu Toh Haanikarak Hai” or the Massive "Dangle" anthem? Each of these songs tells a story—a journey through hardship, a fight for recognition, and ultimately, a celebration of triumph.
Isn’t “Jiya Ho Bihar Ke Lala” in that same league—an anthem of resilience meant to uplift? This song deserved to be the soundtrack of a sports biopic or a tale of transformation, where someone rises from the ashes with dignity and power.
Instead, it was miscast—used as the background score to bloodshed. And in doing so, the film stripped the song of its cultural dignity. It reduced a proud folk tradition to a prop for violence, missing a powerful opportunity to honour what it truly stands for.
Conclusion
Folk music is not just sound; it is memory, identity, and community. Turning a Bihari folk anthem into a gun battle background score is bold—but it walks a thin line between tribute and appropriation.
If Bollywood borrows from folk, it must also give back—with respect, credit, and context. When done right, cinema can preserve and popularize folk culture. When done carelessly, it can flatten centuries of oral tradition into a dramatic soundtrack.
A grave disappointment masquerading as creativity—what a way to leverage a cherished folk song!
Your Thoughts?
Have you seen folk songs used meaningfully or carelessly in films? Do you think the cultural message of “Jiya Ho Bihar Ke Lala” was lost or enhanced by the film?
Share your views in the comments or message us to continue this discussion on culture and cinema.
Thanks for stopping by.
See you in the next read!
...Anu
Spill. Stir. Stay tuned As Not all drama belongs in court.
