Glomped from the Oct 2011 edition of Vogue India-- If aliens ever attempted to decipher India through contemporary Hindi movies, they would be forced to conclude that the entire country is Punjabi. Which also apparently means that all of us are exuberant, boisterously affectionate affectionate and relentlessly cheerful. That we routinely run through mustard fields (with dupattas trailing behind, of course). That our speech is peppered with *assi*, *puttar*, *soni*, *makhna*, *balle balle*, *shava shava* and (my favourite) *chak de phatte*. That our men are solid and that our women dutifully kep karva chauth. And that, given the slightest opportunity, all of us, including aged aunts and uncles, are delighted to break into a rousing dance number.
WHen did Bollywood become Punjabi? The groundwork was set during the Partition, when refugees like BR Chopra moved to Mumbai. Historically, Bollywood's A-list families--the Chopras, Kapoors, Deols--were Punjabi, and the on-screen families they created were invariably North Indian. But the generic turned specifc with *Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge* in the 1995. Aditya Chopra's monster hit--16 years later, it's still running at Maratha Mandir in Mumbai--set the tone for the next decade. The reclusive director also played mentor to Karan Hohar, who took the Punjabi baton and ran the next mile. In films like *Kuch Kuch Hota Hai*, *Kabhie Khushi Kabhie Gham* and *Kal Ho Naa Ho*, Johar confirmed what we all secretly suspected--that Punjabis have more fun than the rest of us. The result is now even a South Indian NRI wedding must have a Bollywood night, in which everyone rocks to 'Maahi Ve' and 'Mauja Hi Mauja'. The truth is, Bollywood and the Punjabi are a perfect hit. Hindi films are larger than life. They are brash and robust. The best have an inherent masti. In other words, they are Punjabi.
