The dhinchak seems to have gone out of Pooja Jain's voice. Ever since news got out that her music videos have been deleted from her YouTube account, she has been "unreachable". But 24 hours later, she resurfaces. Speaking to The Telegraph over the phone from Delhi, she sounds upset. "The videos have not been deleted. I have hidden them." That's the story she is sticking to for now.
A 21-year-old Pooja had made a low-key debut with the video, Swag Wali Topi, in 2015. This was followed a year later by Daaru Daaru. There is a name for her kind of music - cringe pop. The lyrics, the tune, all of it make the audience hate it and also want to watch it at the same time, hence the name.
It was the third video, Selfie Maine Leli Aaj, released this May that heralded the birth of Dhinchak Pooja. It fetched 4 million views in a week's time. On Tuesday, when her account was wiped clean, it had more than 30 million views.
After Selfie, the virtual world couldn't have enough of Pooja and her music, if only to hate or troll. YouTube channel Jeheranium Music has 56,000 followers but its video titled What Delhi Thinks About Dhinchak Pooja has 19.5 lakh views. There is a roast video on YouTube by a Mr Dhiru titled Boy committed suicide after watching Dilon ka Shooter. It has 4 lakh views. Video jockey Jose Covaco has posted a spoof video on Instagram. It shows him listening to Selfie and blood streaming out of his ears and onto his T-shirt. There are also many, many spoof videos of celebrities - Narendra Modi, Shah Rukh Khan, Sachin Tendulkar - reacting to her music. In one such, Lata Mangeshkar is seen pleading with someone for an appointment with the Dhinchak girl. Popular comedy channels such as BB Ki Vines and All India Bakchod have uploaded reaction videos mocking the Master's student - she won't tell us which university she goes to though.
Several faux Facebook pages mushroomed overnight advertising Dhinchak Pooja's ticketed live performance. It was all a joke, but within minutes of these posts, several thousands showed "interest", the Rs 7,000-plus price tag notwithstanding. This faceless lot is referred to as the dhinchuks.
The collateral damage in this hate wave happened to be the namesakes. They found themselves tagged by the Pooja trolls just for laughs. If at all it bothered the real Pooja, she did a good job of not showing it while talking to The Telegraph barely a week before the disappearance of her videos. " Pehle toh gussa mujhe aata nahi (First, I never lose my temper)," she said with swag and then turned philosophical. Everyone is entitled to his or her point of view, negativity is bad for the system, and so on and so forth. In fact, it was all an echo of what she puts out on Twitter. Sample these: Just because my path is different, doesn't mean I m lost (sic); you can't kill the spirit of lionhearted. She has 11,400 followers on Twitter. She follows only five, among whom are Rihanna, Jennifer Lopez, Sia, Bruno Mars - singers all.
In any case, it is difficult to associate such words of wisdom with the person who composed lyrics such as Roz karun main dp change, achchha sa filter lagake/ Alag alag jagah par jaake, selfie main lun pout banake. Even more so, if you have seen the videos and heard the songs sung in a high-pitched voice to no particular beat or tune.
But you would be forgiven for believing that it is you who are tone deaf, when she said with confidence and conviction: "Perfection mere liye bahut zaruri hai (I am a sucker for perfection)." Even the all-male brigade floating around her person in the videos are apparently not random props but handpicked artistes selected after screentests and auditions.
Pooja recounted how she was egged on by friends to put out her first video. She admitted she invested zilch, except for a microphone and a camera, and did not even think of monetising her music. Four videos later she has apparently made only about Rs 30,000 from YouTube, and has only now hired someone to manage the business aspect of her music.
The creative stuff, especially the lyrics, is all her responsibility - she made sure you got that word for word. And how did she decide on the themes? " Ekdum se aa jata hai bas... (It comes to me, just like that)," she replied with a giggle, as if astounded by her own creativity. She was sure she was headed for Bollywood. "Hope ki toh koi baat hi nahi... Ab toh pakka hai (I am not hoping. I know for sure.)"
That was then. After Pooja's videos went missing, it was said that someone reported her songs, possibly for content theft, forcing YouTube to remove her songs. The charge, if it is indeed true, and the removal, are both equally disturbing for a variety of reasons. Pooja, of course, insists she hid them. But why? " Hai koi reason (I have my reasons)," she says and hangs up.
