FROM CHIC AND CHICORY TO CHIKIRI CHIKIRI

SOME films arrive like VVIPs at an election rally. All pomp and entitlement.

- SANTWANA BHATTACHARYA

Others, like Peddi, wander in like a gaily-coloured street drummer-kicking up dust, making up for the lack of hoardings and arranged crowds with sheer life and loud self-declaration. People form circles around them, unable to resist the charm. Ram Charan's latest is the latter kind of storm. Within hours of landfall, it had all of South Asia spinning around in a blender, forgetting its billion woes, instantly magnetised by 'Chikiri Chikiri'-Sridevi's daughter catching the vibe as if she's finally shrugged off the weight of inheritance and discovered the freedom of movement.

It was a quake with many epicentres. Kadapa to Colombo, Karachi to Kathmandu-every kasba was rocking to its own bootleg. Bengaluru techies are practising footwork between Jira updates. Dhaka schoolgirls have adopted it as their recess-time anthem. Then Tamil aunties in Singapore started recording reels like college kids. 'Chikiri Chikiri' soon mutated, like a superbug pouncing in from some primeval forest, into a transcontinental contagion. Because, why not? The internet likes chaos, and nobody does that better than India. Now, Korean teens are uploading impromptu flash mob versions, as if 'Chikiri Chikiri' was always meant for their razor-cut K-pop looks! It's escaped the subcontinent without bothering to check out.