At precisely one minute to midnight, on New Year’s Eve, this song starts to resound in the street:
And so, at midnight, all you can hear is a slurred but enthusiastic group chorus chanting the song’s refrain, which roughly translates to:
Don’t let it be morning
Let’s not part
Let’s stave off sleep
You’re my hero.
As a side note, this song was being sung by clients to two gentlemen who had, after being laid off, become strippers. In a country that’s frequently whooping about its economic awesomeness while biting its nails in secret, this is a rather poignant song for 2015’s New Year’s eve if you think about it in the context of the film.
But the economy wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when this musical gem started pounding its way out of the speakers. My point is a little more semantic. If you don’t want the morning to come at a party to celebrate the advent of the New Year, then there isn’t really any point to the party, is there? Shouldn’t you be asking the morning to hurry up and get here already? Isn’t the basic function of New Year’s eve to boot out the old year, rather than declare it one’s hero as embodied by shirtless Akshay Kumar and John Abraham? Not that I’m much of a pro at partying, but it seems to me that on New Year’s eve, the motto should be “Subha hone de” (“Please let it be morning”) rather than “Subha hone na de” (“Don’t let it be morning”).
My visiting Swiss hobbit made a rather pertinent point though: On New Year’s eve, you don’t want the morning (read: hangover) to come. What you — or at least those who do this sort of bopping and chanting business — want is for the post-midnight night to continue.
This logically sort of makes sense, though it still means you’re saying you don’t really want the New Year to come.
Is it very obvious that we were sober?
Happy new year.