KASME VAADE PYAAR WAFA…
Kasme Vaade (Upkar, 1965) was born out of a sad situation. A friend, deeply in love with a girl, had promised to marry her. However, he left for Africa for some work and met with an accident there. The girl married someone else here without his knowledge. Lyricist Indeevarji and I happened to attend her wedding at the Taj, Colaba. On our way back, as we passed Regal Cinema, I told Indeevarji, “Kasme vaade sab bekaar hain.” That inspired Indeevarji, and within minutes he penned down a mukhda. That same night, as we were passing by a crematorium, I told Indeevarji that ironically it’s our dear ones who set us on fire. That inspired him to write the antara, Tera apna khoon hi aakhir tujh ko aag lagaayega. The philosophical song, Kasme vaade, was filmed on Pran in Upkar and changed his villainous image forever.
PHOOL TUMHEIN BHEJA HAI…
Years ago, when I visited the border, I met a soldier. He was singing our song Phool tumhein bheja hai khat mein (Saraswatichandra) while playing the veena. He didn’t know who I was. “We soldiers sit here with our guns the whole day. The camel brings us our food. This song is my life. I think of my family when I sing it. My heart is that flower, which I send across through my letters,” he said. When I introduced myself, he broke down, saying, “Baba, I was destined to meet you.” The origin of this song is interesting. As music composers, Kalyanji bhai and I received fan mail. One such letter had a lipstick mark and a flower. It was a romantic gesture. I mocked Indeevarji in jest, saying, “We, being music directors, get such poetic letters. You, being a poet, don’t get any.” Indeevarji retorted, “You banya (trader), no one can ever love you!” That made him write Phool tumhein bheja hai…
MERI PYAARI BAHANIYA…
Kaka (Rajesh Khanna) belonged to our neighbourhood in Girgaum. He was goodlooking and styled his hair like a hero. We told him, “Kake, you have star value!” He’d often visit us as producers would come to our place. After he became a superstar, Kaka’s circle changed. He saw great success and began drinking heavily. Coming back to composing for Kaka, we always created good songs for newcomers, be they actors or singers. It establishes them in public memory. We provided the music for Kaka’s earliest film, Raaz. For Sachaa Jhutha (1970), the situation featured a brother dancing to the bidaai song, Meri pyaari bahaniya, the first of its kind. A famous dholak artiste from Rajasthan had come to work with us, but he couldn’t play according to the playback style. So, we composed Yun hi tum mujhse baat karti ho to suit his technique.
ZINDAGI KA SAFAR…Kaka’s Safar (1970) was another landmark film. Asit Sen was a sensitive director. We chose the beats to suit the melancholic mood of the film. Indeevarji’s Zindagi ka safar, about the ambiguity of life and death, is a song everyone can relate to. The poignant Jeevan se bhari, portrays the terminally ill hero’s desire to live. Jo tumko ho pasand, filmed on Feroz Khan, is all about surrender, a sentiment echoing a husband’s love for his new bride.
KOI JAB TUMHARA HRIDAY TOD DE…
The song from Purab Aur Paschim (1970) was picturised in London. It was composed with only three instruments, rabab, flute, and rhythm, in contrast to a huge orchestra. In those days, Mukesh and Manna Dey were referred to as ‘diesel engines’; they’d take time to warm up. But once they did, their voices would only enhance with retakes. We took 40 takes of this song. Mukeshji said, “Main mar jaoon tab tak gawao!” We began at two in the afternoon and stopped at four am, tired and anxious about the outcome. We heard the track after two days and hugged sound recordist Kaushik ‘Bawa,’ saying, “Kamaal ho gaya!” Mukeshji had done a fabulous job.
PAL PAL DIL KE PAAS…
Another treasured song is Pal pal dil ke paas (Blackmail, 1973). I was always interested in editing, and director Vijay Anand and I exchanged notes on the technical aspects and picturisation. He took a different shot each time Pal pal appeared in the song. Mile mile do badan from the film remains an underrated song. It was a difficult song to shoot, as the lead pair (Rakhee and Dharmendra) is trapped between logs of wood. The picturisation couldn’t be limited to round trolley shots and long shots, so we included the sound of police sirens and dogs as interim music. Emotions, drama, music… the song has it all. Also, a note on Dharmendra: he wasn’t a song-and-dance hero, but we gave him the peppy Rafta rafta dekho aankh meri ladi hai in Khel Khilari Ka (1977). While doing stage shows, whenever we sensed a dip in audience energy, we’d start playing this number.
MERA JEEVAN KORA KAGAZ…
Kora Kagaz (1974) was directed by a Bengali, Anil Ganguly. The producer, Sanath Kothari, was a Gujarati. Their sensibilities were different; Kothari believed the title song, Mera jeevan kora kagaz, sounded like a bhajan, while Ganguly liked it. Another peculiarity was that the song was filmed on the female lead (Jaya Bhaduri) but sung by Kishore Kumar. After the recording, Kishoreda told the director, “Maharaj, I’ve recorded a wonderful song. But if the film ends with the couple (Jaya and Vijay Anand) coming together, you can’t have Kora kagaz playing in the climax.” He joked, “If you make me sing a different song later, I’ll charge extra. If you give me the antara right now, I’ll record it straight away.” We suggested that the mukhda be omitted in the climax and just the antara be retained. The phrase Dukh ke andar sukh ki jyoti came to my mind as I read books on philosophy. MG Hashmat took the lyrics to another level.
O SAATHI RE TERE BINA BHI KYA JEENA…
A dear friend had passed away. I came home thinking about how life is nothing without breath and said aloud, “Tere bina bhi kya jeena!” implying “breath.” My wife, believing the comment was for her, retorted, “Paanch bachche ho gaye… abhi so jao!” Jokes apart, I suggested the mentioned line to Prakash Mehra for the love triangle Muqaddar Ka Sikandar (1978). He said, “I am making a picture worth lakhs. I need a powerful mukhda.” I argued, “I’m giving you a line worth a crore!” The phrase O saathi re was deftly added by Anjaan saab, who wrote the masterpiece song. The title song, Rote hue aate hain sab, was sung by Kishore Kumar. For the sad version filmed on Vinod Khanna’s maternal home. We based the song on a folk tune from UP, with the shehnai being predominant. Sultan Ahmed couldn’t stop crying when the song was recorded. Alka Yagnik, who rendered it, also turned emotional as she was to get married soon. We ‘okayed’ the recording in the first take because even those in the chorus were left tearyeyed. Retakes would have diluted the authenticity. Each time I hear the song, I become sentimental too. During those days, my London-based daughter Rita was expecting her first child. She wanted my wife, Shanta Ben, and me to visit her but I couldn’t because of my commitments. Hurt, she asked me, “Does a daughter have no right over her parents?” Cut to character in the climax, we wanted Mohammed Rafi. We got in touch with his assistant, who questioned how we had thought of Rafi. We said, “Miyaan ko bol dena, iss gaane se woh hamesha yaad rahenge.” The lines were “Zindagi toh bewafa hai, ek din thukrayegi.”
BABUL KA YEH GHAR…
Being K Asif’s assistant, Sultan Ahmed’s style was larger than life. He would make lengthy films and then get stuck. For this bidaai song in Daata (1989), he wanted grandeur, including elephants and horses. His wife, actor Shammiji, said there was ‘no budget’ for that. The situation depicted a girl from a poor household getting married into a rich family, but she was sad about leaving her 2021: Rita, who had been diagnosed with nose cancer, was in remission when the pandemic happened. During that time, I was honoured with an award in Britain. When I met her there, I didn’t even hug her as her immunity was low. Normally, she’d sleep on my lap and oil my hair. Anyway, she attended the award ceremony and later hosted a party to celebrate it. When advised against it, she said, “I won’t live long. This is our last gathering. It gives me happiness.” Soon, she developed a breathing problem and passed away on October 8, 2021. She was a kamaal ki ladki, my driving force. The song, Babul ka yeh ghar…” remains associated with her and her immense love.