“Just Write Like Gulzar”: Farah Khan on the “Dard‑E‑Disco” Brief That Beat Javed Akhtar’s Procrastination

Veteran filmmaker-choreographer Farah Khan revealed a behind-the-scenes nugget from the making of the hit track “Dard-E-Disco” (from the 2007 film Om Shanti Om) that has revived the conversation around creative shortcuts and pop-cultural “absurdity”. According to her, lyricist Javed Akhtar was stuck on the songwriting process until she gave him a playful yet provocative directive: “Just write like Gulzar.” The remark was reportedly what finally got the lyrics turned around — in just five minutes.

The anecdote is as revealing as it is controversial. On one hand, it shows Farah’s instinct for tapping into the chaotic, fun-filled energy of Bollywood song manufacturing. On the other, it suggests the somewhat cavalier attitude behind what becomes a massively successful, culturally iconic track. Javed Akhtar later admitted the brief was to write “meaningless” or “absurd” lyrics to fit the over-the-top tone of the film.

Farah’s comment referencing Gulzar is layered: Gulzar is famed for deeply poetic, metaphor-rich lyricism, so to ask someone to “just write like Gulzar” sounds like an ironic volte-face. It plays with expectations of artistry and suggests that for a track like Dard-E-Disco, the brief was more about vibe than depth. This becomes controversial because it raises questions: how much artistic diligence is expected for commercial pop songs? When a celebrated lyricist is asked to churn “gibberish”, does that diminish the craft — or re-define it?

Industry watchers are divided. Some praise the spontaneity and fun-factor of the track and the film, seeing the story as evidence that sometimes the most memorable art emerges from chaos. Others argue it’s a sign of a system where urgency and spectacle override lyrical meaning and craft integrity. “Take the genius of Javed Akhtar,” one comment goes, “and tell him to write nonsense — and we all dance to it.” The tension between respect for legacy and pop-culture commercialization surfaces here.

The impact of Dard-E-Disco is unquestioned: it remains a staple Bollywood song, frequently referenced, parodied, remixed. But that success story now hides the fact that its origin included a brief to write without meaning — something Farah Khan openly acknowledges. That frankness is rare in an industry that often sanitizes its creative process. And therein lies the controversy: when the big names admit to shortcuts, what does it say about the rest of the system?

For fans of Farah Khan, the revelation reinforces her fearless, tongue-in-cheek style. She isn’t afraid to acknowledge that commercial art sometimes takes weird turns. For purists and lyric-fans, however, it’s a reminder that even revered lyricists can be enlisted to produce ‘nonsense’ for the sake of masala. Do we celebrate the result or lament the process?

In the end, the anecdote captures a lot of what Bollywood stands for: spectacle, speed, star-power, and a wink at its own absurdity. Whether you view it as creative brilliance or a symptom of superficiality, it’s undeniably a moment that prompts us to ask: when does art stop being meaningful and just become memorable?