It’s A Rap!

Vote dena soch samajh ke, afwaahein na suno
Dhyan dena roz khabar pe, tab ja ke tum chuno
— from Button Daba by Awessum Frankie
Naa chahiye ab Ram mandir
Aur na yeh Babri
Bana do ek siksha-ghar jisme ho dharmo ki barabri
— from Hello Deshwasi by Saifullah Khalid
Kolkata’s youth have found a voice, and the voice speaks rap. Half a world away from America, where the hip-hop subculture took root several decades ago, a bunch of young people in the city are reinventing the genre that, in its purest form, is all about meaningful poetry, capturing the zeitgeist of subaltern, youthful angst.
In the bylanes of the city, underground rap is a medium of expression, the language of the street.This election season, even as political parties have been going around town wooing young voters, members of the Kolkata rap gang have taken it upon themselves to spread the message of going out to vote, and voting wisely. The lyrics are socially conscious and politically charged. The language, like the target audience, is youthful. It’s free of the hyperbole that political leaders are prone to using, but relies on rhythm (the beat is super important) and the quality of poetry to get the message across. Hindi, Urdu, English, even a bit of Bengali — anything goes.
“Our generation gets swayed by social media and fake news and often refrains from voting, thinking it’s a waste of time,” says 20-year-old Mohammed Huzaifa Reza, who goes by the rap alias Awessum Frankie, who’s penned ‘Button Daba’. “This,” he adds, with a seriousness belying his years, “is my attempt to form opinion.”
The Rajabazar resident — who idolises Eminem, Drake, Nas and Machine Gun Kelly — started rapping when he was in Class VII. Now, around eight years later, his YouTube videos ‘Ilaka Rap’, ‘Rela Hard Hai’ and recent release ‘Chal Nikal’ are major hits.
The young man with loopy glasses and stylish hair, wearing a blingy T-shirt, a long silver chain on his neck, striking hip-hop poses — often unselfconsciously — confesses he’s an introvert and that there’s a story behind the alias. “I was nicknamed Frankie, and ‘awesome’ was a common compliment. Also, I wanted to be unique and cool, so I spelt the name differently,” says Reza, fiddling with the silver chain dangling around his neck. Reza also profusely thanks his videographer friend Khan Imran, who, he says, “takes a lot of trouble to shoot and edit the videos of Awessum Frankie”.
Initially, his parents did not have any idea what rapping was about, and tried to stop him from taking it up. But he’s been getting more support since he started getting recognition, he says. He is dismissive about a certain section of “new rappers”, who, he says, “don’t have any idea about the hip-hop culture and is turning this genre into a joke”.
Reza, however, says he has remained true to his passion. He also believes that art, and an artiste, have a duty to society. So, in the run-up to this elections, when he was approached by some political parties to make them a rap song for their campaigns, he flatly refused. “I can’t write campaign songs for them. I always write what I see and experience.”
Like Reza, Saifullah Khalid — the author of ‘Hello Deshwasi’ — also pens hard-hitting poetry on the current political scenario. The student of journalism feels it is necessary to raise questions. His songs, thus, addresses issues that often hog the headlines: demonetization, GST, unemployment rates, mob-lynching.
“I am disturbed by this atmosphere of hatred that is being created and wanted to reach out to as many people as possible to spread the message of love and harmony,” says the Zakaria Street resident. Rap, he says, is his weapon of choice. “My lyrics are my strength. So, when I saw political parties choosing rap as a medium to spread distorted facts and fake news, I, too, started expressing my views and opinions through it.”
He, too, says that his parents did not initially support him, but he, too, remained firm. Khalid aims to become a journalist while continuing his passion for rap. “If there is any art form that has a chance of breaking down class barriers in the Indian entertainment industry, it’s hip-hop, and I will continue to write and support budding rappers,” he says with a smile.
A YouTube search throws up several similar hip-hop videos — plenty of long tees, flashy snapbacks, stylish shades, thick silver chains, ripped jeans, canvas shoes and jackets. The videos are tastefully shot, using vignettes of the city: deserted alleys, rooftops, empty train compartments, crowded buses near the Howrah bridge and the Vidyasagar Setu.
The Inchoates, formed by Amin Nashat, Iftekhar Ahmed and Mohammad Sajjad, hail from Howrah’s Pilkhana. When asked about their group name, Iftekhar, whose raps under the alias Ifti, is prompt in his reply. “Inchoates mean imperfectly formed. Amin suggested this name for the group and we agreed.” Amin is a second-year bachelor’s student at Calcutta Unani Medical College and Hospital and the spokesperson of the group. Sajjad handles cameras and is the video director.
The Inchoates released their first rap video in 2016, ‘The Pilkhana Boys’, which talked about the vices of gully life. Production was as basic as it could get, with the shoot done using a friend’s smartphone and the mixing on Ifti’s laptop. “It happened quite suddenly,” says Amin. “We began hearing songs by Divine and Naezy, and were totally floored. The lyrics were similar to the way we speak. It was then that we decided to write something on our own.” He recollects how, because they did not have the equipment, they had to use a tea strainer as a pop filter, just like Murad in ‘Gully Boy’, to record their songs. Breaking a long silence, Ifti says, “The movie depicts the struggle of young rappers like us who dream of making it big.”
Amin’s recent release, ‘Bayan’, talks of love and brotherhood at a time religion is dividing people and communities. “The lyrics of rap songs are always inspired from society and everyday existence,” he says. “Whatever is happening is reflected through our songs, and this is what appeals to our generation.” Ifti’s upcoming song, ‘Safar’, is about his struggles and journey so far. So far, so good. But what about the future? Do they think of taking up rap as a career? The Inchoates do not even have to think before they reply. None of them have even thought of abandoning rap.
Driven by poetry and rhyme, Mohammad Sahil aka DJ Sahil started writing in 2013. At that time, however, he had no idea of the genre of ‘Underground rap’. He found out later, when one of his friends introduced him to Mumbai underground rappers Divine and Naezy. Listening to Naezy’s ‘Aafat’, Sahil was taken aback. He found lots of similarities between his lyrics and the rap song. “There was a lot of similarity in idea and language. The only thing missing in my writings was beats,” Sahil says.
Sahil trawled the internet for tutorials and borrowed a phone and laptop from friends to make a video, in which he expressed a wish to do “something unique”. He did not post it online because it was “amateurish”. Sahil met Adnan in 2017, quite by chance, through a friend, and their common interest in hip-hop made their friendship strong. “We are like MC Sher and Murad in ‘Gully Boy’, inseparable,” says Adnan Neayz, aka Adnan Hitzz, who will pursue commerce in Class XI. Inspired by Divine and Naezy, Adnan began rapping in 2013, when, like the Mumbai rappers, he spoke of his neighbourhood, its surroundings and people. “But I had no funds and no one to guide me,” he says.
It was financial constraints that forced Sahil to abandon formal education while in Class X. He now supports his family by working as a part-time food delivery boy and as an electrician. “I hail from a humble family and save up to make rap videos. There are financial problems but I will overcome it those since I dream of becoming a rapper,” he says. Adnan echoes similar sentiments, fixing his streaked hair. Their upcoming track, ‘Kolkata khas hai’, focuses on poverty and corruption: “Yaaha garib bahat hai par ameer ki awaz hai/ Hamare netao ko sirf paiso se pyaar hai”. Both of them try to echo “street voices” through their lyrics and reflect day-to-day experiences.
Zeeshan Hasan, a Class X student, had an early initiation into rap poetry-writing. Now, he spends a lot of his energy in motivating young rappers to find their voice, and says the “rap scene in Kolkata is improving”.
Especially since ‘Gully Boy’ “has brought rap to the mainstream,” he says. “I pen lyrics based on what I see and hear around me — from young lives being ruined by alcoholism, to the latest rap craze in youngsters, everything is reflected through my songs.” His upcoming track, ‘Asli Hip Hop’, talks about motivating greenhorn rappers.
Another prominent name is the Kolkata rap circuit is Jaitay Bhardwaj, alias J Trix, who refuses to be branded a “gully boy”. Now a college gtraduate, he began rapping while in Class VIII, inspired by Mike Shinoda’s rap on the Linkin Park track ‘In the End’. But he started writing is own material after a show at his college when he realised that although the audience liked the way he rapped, very few could understand, or really connect, to the lyrics of Eminem’s ‘Rap God’.
“There’s no point if people don’t get the message,” he says. “When I realised that, I started writing in Hindi and English.” J Trix’s upcoming track, ‘Jaag’, focuses on how youngsters are falling prey to fake news and social media rumours. Rap, he says, is an interesting medium to reach out to more people, and he says he’ll never stop experimenting with new techniques.
Abhinandan Purkayastha, aka Old Boy, is one of a handful who rap in Bengali. “I chose to rap in my mother tongue as I figured it would reach more people like me,” says the fourth-year engineering student.
Like most Bengali kids, Abhinandan’s introduction to music was through Rabindrasangeet and Nazrulgeeti. But his fascination for rhythm started after his parents trained him in the tabla. “As I grew up, my playlist diversified, with many English and Bengali songs. I started exploring other genres — from Bangla rock to jibanmukhi — and in Class VIII, I took up rapping seriously after listening to Mike Shinoda, Eminem and Ludacris,” says the Rupam Islam fan.
Influenced by both Western and traditional Bengali music, Abhinandan feels that there is a basketful of raw talent in Kolkata but, unlike Mumbai, a lack of sponsors.
Abhinandan laughs at the irony at a largely anti-establishment form of expression now being adopted by political parties. “The parties are contacting rappers like us with lucrative offers. But one needs to be careful. Art should have a greater purpose,” says the resident of Chandernagar, who says he regrets studying engineering, as he’ll be taking up rap professionally.
“Bharotiyo bhailog mat khona hosh/ Asche vote, ask them, HOW’s THE JOSH!” he signs off with a couplet from his latest release, ‘How’s the Josh’.
Rajsikha Kori, aka Femcee Frosty, is also unique, as she is the city’s only woman rapper. In the boys-majority rap scene, she represents female power. In 2011, when she started out, no girl her age was familiar with rap, she says. She found inspiration in Eminem, Tupac and Nas, but learnt the true meaning of hip-hop from K-Krew, the pioneers of the Kolkata rap movement since 2007. “I got introduced to hip-hop from an early age,” she says. “I could not rap initially, so I explored other avenues like graffiti, and, with time, started writing my own lyrics,” says the young woman, who is pursuing a BCA. Rajsikha plans to release single videos focusing on issues like gender equality and struggles faced by a girl growing up in a city. Her upcoming track, ‘Ek Ladki’, is related to busting stereotypes around women.
Rajsikha hosts small-scale jam sessions, open-mic events for young talents in the city from the money she makes by selling her artwork. “I am confident that I can earn by selling my art work and can spend on rapping to develop the craft,” Kori says.
Her big plan for the future is to motivate girls to take up rap so that a sense of belonging with the hip-hop movement grows amongst women. “I want girls to express their dreams, anger and dissent through this art form,” she explains.