Wishing the readers a very Happy New Year

Long ago there used to be a popular game show on the American TV titled: ‘It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane, It’s Superman’. The host would invite the participants in pairs, one of whom would be given a clue, which could be a famous proverb, or a quotation, or a film or a song title. This person was allowed to draw, sketch or mime, but not to speak or write words or numbers, and his partner was to guess the clue. The game was exciting because the audience in the show and the TV viewers were shown the clue. If you imagine its Indian version, suppose you are given the clue ‘Mere sapne mein aana re sajna’. You may draw and mime to the best of your ability, but your partner might falter from Sapna ban saajan aaye, to Sapne mein sajan se do baatein, to Sach huye sapne mere, to Kaun hai jo sapne mein aya, to Mere khwabon mein jo aaye, with the audience rooting all along, wishing he reached the correct clue.

Some songs present similar confusion whether they are songs or recitation or prose. Once I had an interesting discussion with Madhu (Dusted Off) on her post on Pyasa’s songs. I mentioned her omission of some nazms which Guru Dutt recites leisurely in Rafi’s voice, and that any discussion on Pyasa’s songs was incomplete without mentioning Sahir’s those beautiful nazms. She responded that these were not songs. Perhaps she was right, or perhaps she was not, because there are a fairly large number of such prose-recitation-songs, without much music, which are labelled and distributed as songs.

This confusion has its origin in the history of our film music. With music being an integral part of our folk, classical and theatre traditions, dance and songs came into our films right from the beginning of our talkies. Nay, even our silent films were not quite silent, as musicians would sit in a pit before the screen, and as the film rolled, they would play various instruments creating tunes as per the situation in the film. The raucous audience would at times make farmaish for a particular tune they had become familiar with. The film would be stopped for a while for the farmaish to be fulfilled. But I believe, it must have taken a couple of years for the standard ‘film song’ of about three minutes duration to evolve. Indrasabha (1932) is said to have a record 69 songs. Even if we allow two and a half minutes for each song, the songs would take about three hours. This does not leave any room for dialogue or story in the film. There is no mention anywhere that it was the longest film in our history. Therefore, it is clear that many of these songs would not be described as ‘song’ as we know today. These were simply dialogues delivered in a sing-song style, which was a characteristic of the Parsi theatre in which there was no clear distinction between dialogue-recitation-song.

SoY has since seen some very involved discussion whether words or music is more important. Mumbaiar8 has long been a lyrics-crusader; SSW argued equally strongly that for musical experience words are not important, it is the music or the ‘tune’ which matters. Shalan Lal, KS Bhatia and several other readers have made valuable contributions to the debate.

The primacy of music over words is well accepted. Ustad Amjad Ali Khan once said in an interview that we live in two worlds: one, the world of ‘words’; and the other, the world of music. The world of music does not need the crutches of words. Ustadji said this in the context of classical music, which can and, often, does rest solely on ‘notes’. But this is equally true of popular music. How else can we explain the phenomenal popularity of international chartbusters like La Bamba, Macarena, Kolaveri Di and Didi (Khalid, Algerian)?

In the context of another discussion, SSW gave the link of an article by Elizabeth Hellmuth Margulis which gives a very good insight into word-song relationship. The following extract from the article throws a great deal of light on the confusion between ‘It’s prose, It’s recitation, It’s a song’.

“The transformation is truly bizarre. You’d think that listening to someone speak and listening to someone sing were separate things, distinguished by the objective characteristics of the sound itself. It seems obvious: I hear someone speak when she’s speaking, and sing when she’s singing. But the speech-to-song illusion reveals that the exact same sequence of sounds can seem either like speech or like music, depending only on whether it has been repeated. Repetition can actually shift your perceptual circuitry such that the segment of sound is heard as music: not thought about as similar to music, or contemplated in reference to music, but actually experienced as if the words were being sung.”

Here are some songs which straddle the boundary between poetry recitation and song. In general, our songs are memorable because of memorable tunes, but the lyrics reign supreme in the following songs. I hope this post pleases Mumbaikar8 who has often complained that I have not given due importance to lyricists.

1. Sahir’s poetry in Pyasa (1957) by Rafi, music SD Burman

Let me start with Pyasa’s songs-but-not songs which triggered this discussion. Besides the recognised ‘songs’, the poet Guru Dutt recites Sahir’s poetry on different occasions in the film. It starts with a young romantic, lazing around on grass, admiring the beauty of nature around him with Ye hanste huye phool, ye mahka hua gulshan. Later, at his friends’ prodding, he does a teasing Jab tum chalo zameen chale asmaan chale as Mala Sinha passes by. And when the romance has been shattered, there is a despairing Tang aa chuke hain kashamakash-e-zindagi se hum as the now-married Mala Sinha looks on plaintively from the audience, with her husband Rahman in a row behind, and finally an anguished cry, Gham is qadar badhe ki main ghabara ke pi gaya. I wouldn’t press my case that these be treated as songs, but I would repeat that Pyasa-Sahir-Rafi-SD Burman-Guru Dutt magic is incomplete without these nazms.

ये हंसते हुये फूल ये महका हुआ गुलशन
ये रंग में और नूर में डूबी हुई राहें – 2
ये फूलों का रस पी के मचलते हुये भौंरे – 2
मैं दूं भी तो क्या दूं तुम्हें ऐ शोख नज़ारों
ले दे के मेरे पास कुछ आंसू हैं कुछ आहें
…..
जब हम चले तो साया भी अपना न साथ दे
जब तुम चलो ज़मीन चले आसमान चले
जब हम रुकें तो साथ रुके शाम-ए-बेकसी
जब तुम रुको बहार रुके चाँदनी रुके
…..
तंग आ चुके हैं कशमकश-ए-ज़िंदगी से हम – 2
ठुकरा ना दें जहां को कहीं बेदिली से हम

(Chorus from the audience: अजी जनाब खुशी के मौक़े पर ये क्या बेदिली का राग छेड़ा हुआ है. कोई खुशी का गीत सुनाइये )

हम ग़मज़दा हैं लायें कहां से खुशी के गीत
देंगे वही जो पायेंगे इस ज़िंदगी से हम – 2
उभरेंगे एक बार कभी दिल के वलवले
माना कि दब गये हैं ग़म-ए-ज़िंदगी से हम
लो आज हमने तोड़ दिया रिश्ता-ए-उम्मीद
लो अब कभी गिला ना करेंगे किसी से हम
…
ग़म इस क़दर बढ़े कि मैं घबरा के पी गया
इस दिल की बेकसी पे तरस खा के पी गया
ठुकरा रहा था मुझको बड़ी देर से जहां
मैं आज सब जहां को ठुकरा के पी गया

(A rough English translation by me)
These smiling flowers and this fragrant garden
The pathways awash in colours and lights
These bees intoxicated having drunk the nectar of flowers
With all these around, what can I give you O sprightly surroundings
All I have is just a few tears and a few sighs
….
When I move, even my shadow does not give me company
When you move, the ground underneath and the sky above moves with you
When I stop, stops with me my evening of sadness
When you stop, the spring stops, the moonlit night stops
….
I am fed up of the tribulations of life
I might one day give a kick to this world without care

(Chorus from the audience: O Mister! Why are you singing this mourning tune on a happy occasion?  Give us some joyous song.)

I am full of sorrow, how can I sing songs of joy
I can only give in return what I get from life
My heart’s wounds would one day burst out
Though I am at the moment suppressed by the sorrows of life
I declare today that I break all vestiges of hope
From today I would have no complaints against anyone
….
My sorrow increased so much that I drank out of nervousness
And I drank at the helplessness of my heart
The world has trampled over me for long
Today I drank after spurning the entire world

2. Kahin ek masoom nazuk si ladki by Rafi from Shankar Hussain (1977), lyrics Kamal Amrohi, music Khayyam

Rafi is the master of recital songs where he can create great impact without much musical support. A surprise package is this beautiful ‘song’ from the late 70s which was characterized by cacophony. While the stalwarts from the Golden Era fell by the wayside, Khayyam was among the few who retained their quality and had a renewed successful career.

3. Tu dil ka khuda rooh ka kirdagaar by Mohammad Rafi (?) from Parda (1949), lyrics Tanveer Naqvi, music Sharmaji

From the late 70s, let me take you about three decades back when Khayyam had just debuted under the name Sharmaji with Parda. Tu dil ka khuda is more a recital than Pyasa’s mentioned above. But HFGK lists it as a ‘song’. Though the singer’s name is not given, Rafi’s voice is unmistakable.  There is some confusion about the lyricist. The YT link mentions Swami Ramanand as the lyricist, but HFGK mentions Tanveer Naqvi.

4. Wo aaj apni mehfil mein aaye huye hain by Mohammad Rafi from Menhdi (1958), lyrics Kamil Rashid, music Ravi

One can write an entire post on Rafi’s recital songs. His peers stand nowhere in comparison. I can’t think of any matching female song either. Ravi created some of the greatest ghazals for Rafi. Here is a pure nazm recital done beautifully by Ajit in mushaira style with the admirer’s wah wahs and repeating the lines adding authenticity.

5. Mujhe le chalo aaj us phir gali mein by Rafi from Sharabi (1964), lyrics Rajendra Krishna, music Madan Mohan

There is a state of lost love when the lover wants to go over to the place where he lost it. Dev Anand has lip-synched many sad songs on the screen. Mujhe le chalo aaj phir us gali mein, jahan pahele pahle ye dil ladkhadaya/ Wo duniya wo meri mohabbat ki duniya, jahan se main betaabiyan le ke aya is charming because Rafi vocalizes Rajendra Krishna’s beautiful poetry without much instrumental support.

6. Unhe kissa-e-gham jo likhne ko baithe to dekhe qalam ki rawaani mein aansoo by Rafi from Naya Kanoon (1965), lyrics Hasrat Jaipuri, music Madan Mohan

This one is even without the minimal musical support, as Bharat Bhushan has to recite his poetry before the editor for approval. This also has an excellent version by Asha Bhosle.

7. Raat yun dil mein teri khoi hui yaad aayi hai by Rafi and Asha Bhosle from Jaanwar (1965), lyrics Faiz Ahmad ‘Faiz’, music Shankar-Jaikishan

When the lovers are floating in Dal lake in a shikara, they are more likely to recite a soft romantic ghazal to each other. Whoever thought of using Faiz’s poetry here, Shammi Kapoor and Rajshree do full justice to recite it in Rafi and Asha Bhosle’s voice. Incidentally, I find that HFGK lists it as one of the songs, along with the well-known songs like Laal chaadi maidan khadi.

8. Khoobsoorat hai teri tarah shikayat teri by Mahendra Kapoor from Aasman Mahal (1965), lyrics Ali Sardar Zafri, music JP Kaushik

Moving away from Rafi, here is an excellent recital by Mahendra Kapoor, picturised on an unknown actor in a mushaira scene. It is clear he is inspired by Rafi’s style.

9. Kabira nirbhay Ram jape by Rafi and Asha Bhosle from Kaajal (1965), lyrics Sahir Ludhiyanvi, music Ravi

While Meena Kumari recites Kabir’s nirgun couplets to a dying Durga Khote, the scene cuts to a fast dance on a tawaif’s kotha. The strayed husband Raj Kumar is lying drunk with another tawaif – his ‘lover’ – sitting by him. Raj Kumar (Rafi) recites Sahir’s ghazal Mehfil mein teri yun hi rahe jashn-e-charagan in a slow and tired manner. The entire ‘song’ is composed and picturised as Asha Bholse’s Kabir recital alternating with fast dance by a tawaif, followed by Rafi’s recital of Sahir. The Rafi’s recital reminds us the tune of Ye zulf agar khul ke bikhar jaye to achha.

10. Teri mehfil mein sabhi kuchh hai magar pyaar nahi by Shankar Dasgupta from Aakash (1953), lyrics Prem Dhavan, music Anil Biswas

I remember Shikha Biswas Vohra writing in her guest article on her father, Anil Biswas, that whatever was done by a music director, Anilda had done it before. So true, because here is a recital song composed by the maestro which seems to be the clear precursor of the aforesaid Ravi-Madan Mohan-SD Burman’s songs in Rafi’s voice. Though the style is similar, Shankar Dasgupta’s limitations are obvious. Rafi took it to great heights where sky was the limit.

11. Sach kahte ho tum dil ka bharosa to nahi hai by Vijay Dutt (Mohammad Rafeeq?) from Shama (1961), lyrics Kaifi Azmi, music Ghulam Mohammad

This superb pure recital in a mushaira is courtesy Sudhir Kapur who wrote an excellent article on Atul Song A Day. He speculates that the hero Vijay Dutt has himself sung the ‘song’ live, playing the hero Parvez in the film.  But a comment on the YT link mentions that Mohammad Rafeeq is the singer.

12. Hangama-e-gham se tang aakar izhaar-e masarrat kar baithe by Shakeel Badyuni from Pak Daaman (1957), lyrics Shakeel Badayuni, music Ghulam Mohammad

Why settle for a proxy when we can have a real shair reciting his nazm? This song too is courtesy Sudhir Kapur on ASAD. We can see the different approaches to love by two poets. While Sahir takes to alcohol in nervousness, Shakeel would rather Veerani-e-dil jab had se badhi, ghabra ke mohabbat kar baithe.

This ghazal has been sung by several singers. Here is a rendering by the ghazal queen Begum Akhtar.

13. Mushaiyra from Mirza Ghalib (1963), lyrics various poets, music Ghulam Mohammad

I end this post with this mushaira scene from Mirza Ghalib which the poet-king, the last Mughal emperor Bahadur Shah ‘Zafar’, presides over. The greatest poets of the time, namely Zauq, Momin, Ghalib etc. recite their shayari. Ghalib would soon proclaim in a narcissistic manner that Hain aur bhi duniya mein sukhanwar bahut achche, kahte hain ki Ghalib ka hai andaaz-e-bayan aur.