The News Minute | January 20, 2015 | 4.49 pm IST“And a girl can rap and a girl can joke and a girl can fight and a girl can smoke,And a boy can cry and a boy can sigh when he sees another guy and he can wear a sari and doesn’t need to be sorry,”Two lines in a powerful rap that takes pop culture head on and pretty much tells it to … well, you get the picture.Kudi Namkeen. The rap parodyIn just three days, this rap has had a virtual audience of over two lakh people. Rene Sharanya Verma’s rap has been viewed widely on YouTube after her performance at the Delhi Poetry Slam on January 28. Kudi namkeen is a term a Delhiite would relate to instantly, equivalent to the Mumbai “item”, or the Malayali “avalu charakaa” or the Kannada reference to “maal”. Basically the “hot chick”, the “babe”.For Rene, the natural thing to do was to satirise it, parody it. And that, is the essence of her rap.She started in school, as a hobby, and kept at it, composing rap for things she felt strongly about or wanted to poke fun at. “I used to do it school. Some people thought it was funny, some thought I had flow,” she says, adding that it encouraged her to continue. The rap at the Delhi Poetry Slam was just her second public performance. Talking about the rap, Rene says it was not meant to target Yo Yo Honey Singh, but popular culture as a whole. The best way to do it was to channel her thoughts through satire and comedy.Take for instance, this portion of the rap: “Hey girl, tu lagti badi khoob,Teri aankhon mein main jaata doob doob,36-24-36, be my mehboob,I just made this stanza up so I could rhyme it with boob.Kudiyan-shudiyan, I don’t give a damn,Unless you are hot, unless you are my fan.Eminem can’t touch this, ‘cause I’m in India,And he’s in America, yah,To get to me he needs to apply for a visa, I know my rap skills are shit, mujhe bol ke dikha.”So where does this come from? She says that the rap is something "germinates" over a period of time, as she thinks about things, and questions others. Over a period of time, the result is Kudi Namkeen: Its divided into two sections: The Rap Parody, where she lampoons Honey Singh and next comes her response. Although she takes a dig at Honey Singh, the rap is more than just that. She discusses popular culture, mixing gender stereotypes in Delhi metaphors, then moving onto the obsession with getting "Likes" on Facebook, consumerist culture, the Barbie body stereotype of 36-24-36, easily in the language of rap, often funny, sometimes desi, sometimes very American (duh...), and sometimes bordering on the poetic. Especially with the closing lines. Now in her second year of graduation, Rene says that many people are left out when people talk about feminism: “Every human being is equal, especially in terms of how they identify themselves in terms of gender, sexuality. Contrary to what most people think, feminism is not a gender binary. It is a lot more than that. Queer invisibility isn’t an issue, nobody talks about it.”But she says her feminism became sharper only when she got to college, partly because of the course she studies: history honours.“(Studying history) has made me more critical of the absences in history. There are a lot of divisions on the paradigms of class, gender, it got me thinking. It makes you more analytical, more informed about the present. There is so much politics in writing,” she says.She says she has never wanted to monetize her rap, but keep at it consistently and use social media to perhaps make it accessible to people, and perhaps remind them that “Baby, it’s not Maybelline, it’s you.You’re not just the masterpiece, you’re the painter too.”Watch Rene rap here: Kudi NamkeenTHE RAP PARODY: Yo, main south Delhi da launda,Driving 180 in a big fast Honda,I went to the dhaba and I ate aloo bonda,I’m running out of options so I’ll just say Anaconda,My anaconda don’t, my anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns hon,Hey little lady, I am a little shady uh, I could be your dilbar-dilbar, you on my Insta no filter!Hey girl, tera bomb figure,Tu lagti badi soni, par magar,I saw you eating burger in Lajpat Nagar,You better work it girl, tujhe lagta nahin dar!Hey girl, tu lagti badi khoob,Teri aankhon mein main jaata doob doob,36-24-36, be my mehboob,I just made this stanza up so I could rhyme it with boob.Kudiyan-shudiyan, I don’t give a damn,Unless you are hot, unless you are my fan.Eminem can’t touch this, ‘cause I’m in India,And he’s in America, yah,To get to me he needs to apply for a visa, I know my rap skills are shit, mujhe bol ke dikha.THE RESPONSE:Wait a minute. Seriously?Let me get this straight. I am not an afterthought. I am not an overpriced sweater in Zara. I am not the tears in the trial room. I am not an ambaran di queen or a kudi namkeen, I am not a shawty who got low low low low, I am not Arnab Goswami, but tonight, the nation wants to know. I am not WiFi, because no pickup artist, you and I do not share a connection. I am not just a little girl who likes girls and boys or just a little boy who likes to play with Barbie. I am not 127 likes on a PhotoShopped Facebook display picture. I am not a woofer and you sure as hell ain’t my amplifier, I mean what are you, a f*cking transformer? And if you feed my doggie a nashewala biscut I will cut you up. I am not. I am more. I am an ocean and a forest fire, I will destroy you and rebuild you like I destroy and rebuild myself, I am a hurricane-prone area, I am a wildflower- I crumble and collapse and rise and flourish where and when I’m least expected to.I am:A chick, a dick, a slut, a mutt, a dude, a prude, a bitch, a snitch, a dyke, a type, a punk—No. People are not Pokemon, you can’t catch them all with your Master Ball (whatever that means).And a girl can rap and a girl can joke and a girl can fight and a girl can smoke,And a boy can cry and a boy can sigh when he sees another guy and he can wear a sari and doesn’t need to be sorry, And lady—you are flawless, gorgeous hydrocarbon flawless, a spectrum, flawless, lawless, still flawless, man lady flawless, lady boy flawless, more than a label flawless, subversion flawless, Rakhi Sawant flawless, Hilary Clinton flawless, put your hands up flawless, I am flawless, you are flawless, we are flawless, and don’t let Honey Singh tell you any differently.And suma luma dooma luma oh oh, I can’t stop, I won’t stop, no no.No skinny bitches, no big booty glitches, no stolen kisses, under the moonlight.And if you listen to the likes of Yo Yo, you’re gonna feel like shit so go slow.You- iridescent, magnificent, triumphant, you’ll see the light.Condescending, they’re descending, you’re ascending, up the wall.No pumpkin carriage, arranged marriage, not just the belle of the ball,You’re a pear-shaped body and a heart-shaped face, armed in the auto with a pocketful of mace,Survive, defy, resist, you are deferred, not undeterred.Baby, it’s not Maybelline, it’s you.You’re not just the masterpiece, you’re the painter too.Tweet