There is something magical happening in music today. These days, when I listen to Konkani music, I sometimes smile even before the tune starts. Not because of the music alone, but because of the words. Casual, everyday words—once spoken only at home, on the street, or with close friends—are now being sung loudly on stages and played on loudspeakers. These simple words have found a new life in songs and, surprisingly, they bring more cheer than heavy or complicated language ever could.
Dukota, uzo, soro and many such slang words have quietly walked from our homes, streets and markets straight into the music world. And honestly, they have taken centre stage. Once upon a time, these words were used only in daily conversations. These words were simple, raw and full of emotion. But today, they have become part of lyrics in songs. They shine proudly, adding colour, humour and life to our music.
Some people raise their eyebrows. Others laugh and tap their feet. I belong to the second group. Language, after all, is not made only in books. It is born on the lips of ordinary people. What we speak today becomes poetry tomorrow. What we joke about today becomes a chorus tomorrow.
Every language has its own beauty and Konkani has its style and masala. Our slang words carry the smell of our soil and the sound of our people. When these words enter music, they do not divide us; they bind us together. Young and old laugh, sing and tap their feet together. Music becomes familiar, friendly and close to the heart.
Konkani has always been playful. From tiatr stages to mando songs, humour has been our companion. Today’s slang-filled songs are just a new version of the same old smile. These simple words do exactly that. They make songs relatable. They make people say, “Hey, that’s how we talk!” Suddenly, music feels closer to home, closer to the heart.
Let us enjoy the rhythm. Let us clap, laugh and sing along. After all, language grows when it is used, loved and lived. If Konkani words are dancing in music, it means the language is alive and kicking—sometimes even doing a little jig! If a song can make people smile, laugh or feel together, it has done its job well. Music was never meant to impress only the ears; it was meant to touch lives.
So smile. Tap your feet. And whisper to yourself, “Our Konkani is not far away—it is right here, singing happily.”
