The filmmaker is narrating the script to everyone. “Yeh bahut purani kahani hai. Main sahi waqt ka intezaar kar raha tha is film ko banane ke liye.” This is an old story. I was waiting for the right moment to make this film. “Tees saal beet gaye hain. Main sahi hero ke budhape ka intezaar kar raya tha.” It has been over 30 years. I was waiting for the right hero to get old for this role.

The lyricist is deeply impressed by the emotional depth of the story. A great opportunity to write lyrics for such a beautiful film.

The meeting ends. The lyricist gets up to leave. The filmmaker tries to stand up but is unable to. His assistants rush to offer support and help him out of his chair. He is over 90 years old but still comes to the office every day.

The lyricist insists. “Aap baithiye, main chala jaaaonga.” Please sit. I will see myself out. Despite his frail health, the filmmaker continues to walk with the lyricist all the way to the main gate.

They make it to the gate where the lyricist’s car is waiting. The old filmmaker is huffing and puffing. The lyricist feels bad seeing the elderly man struggle. But also feeling honored that he came to drop him off at his car. The lyricist steps inside the car.

The filmmaker bends down and says to him. “Main yeh izzat tumhein nahi de raha hoon. Main us kursi ki izzat rakh raha hoon jahan tum baithte the.” I am not giving you this respect. I am respecting the chair where you were sitting. The lyricist looks confused. Where was he sitting? It seemed like a normal chair. What is the old man talking about? “Main samjha nahin?” I don’t understand.

The filmmaker has misty eyes as he says this. “Beta, jahan tum baithe the wahan kabhi Sahir Ludhianvi baitha karte the. Mein us kursi ki izzat kar raha hoon.” Son, where you were sitting, at one point, Sahir Ludhianvi used to sit there. I was paying respects to that chair.

The lyricist is dumb founded. He is struggling to find words. The filmmaker probably bestowed the highest compliment ever, but at the same time, he has put all this pressure on him now to perform at the level of that legend. The driver starts the car and leaves the premises. The lyricist can still see the filmmaker in the side mirror looking at them as the car drives away.

The lyricist is now determined to give his absolute best to the film. He sits down to work on one of the most critical songs of the movie. This song highlights the intense pain of separation between the lead characters who are in their golden years. There is minimal music, almost a cry of words coming out of one heart and pouring into another. He is excited to share them with the filmmaker.

The lyricist’s phone rings. He picks up and listens to what the caller has to say. His expression changes quickly. He says “Accha,” Okay, and then hangs up. The filmmaker just lost his beloved wife. As a result, he has decided to hand over the reins to his son, who will now complete the film.

The lyricist is disappointed. This song is such an integral part of what the filmmaker was expecting. His emotions during the narration are all captured in the words. He must hear this song. The lyricist pulls some strings and gets a meeting with the filmmaker.

The lyricist shows up at his residence. The filmmaker hasn’t been to the office in several days since his wife passed away. He looks at the lyricist and continues to stare into a space. No expressions on his face.

The lyricist doesn’t want to lose this opportunity even though he doesn’t have the filmmaker’s attention. “Main aapko gaane ka mukhda sunata hoon.” I will sing you the opening lines of the song. He goes ahead and hums the first line from the mukhda. He anticipates an explosive response. The filmmaker continues to sit there without any reaction to this first line.

The lyricist is a bit frustrated but feels like he should keep trying. “Ab main aapko dusri line sunata hoon.” Now, I will sing you the second line. He hums the second line as well to the filmmaker.

The filmmaker moves his face slightly. He looks at the lyricist inquisitively. For some reason, this second line struck a nerve. “Phir se gao?” Sing again? The lyricist obliges immediately. “Aisa lagta hai jaise tumne ye gaana meri zindagi par likha hai. Meri zindagi bhi ab mere paas nahin rahi.” Looks like you have written the song about my life. I have also lost the love of my life.

The lyricist realizes quickly that the filmmaker is missing his beloved wife and now sees himself in this song about separation. The filmmaker’s tears can’t stop flowing. He gets himself out of the chair with great difficulty, stumbles over to the lyricist, and hugs him.

Sameer wrote the lyrics for all the songs, including Main Yahan Tu Wahan for the film Baghban. The film was produced and written by B. R. Chopra, directed by Ravi Chopra, and the music was composed by Aadesh Shrivastava. The song features Amitabh Bachchan’s own vocals and is picturized on him and Hema Malini in the film.

B. R. Chopra first conceived the idea for Baghban during a visit to Europe in the 1960s, where a visit to a retirement home deeply moved him after witnessing elderly parents left alone by their children. By 1973, he had developed the screenplay and set his heart on casting Dilip Kumar in the lead role. That didn’t work out since Dilip Kumar had trouble committing time due to one illness after another. B. R. Chopra had his heart set on Sanjeev Kumar as an alternate, but Sanjeev Kumar had done a similar film called Zindagi, and he wasn’t very excited about repeating a similar role. The final choice was Amitabh Bachchan, whom B. R. Chopra felt could do justice to the role. But Amitabh wasn’t old enough back then, and hence B. R. Chopra waited for the right time to arrive. Thirty years after it was written, B.R. Chopra’s son, Ravi Chopra, as the director, finally brought his father’s dream project to the screen in 2003.

Coming from a strong background in journalism and literature, B. R. Chopra looked at cinema not just as visual entertainment, but as a medium for powerful storytelling. He believed in being surrounded by a strong cadre of writers and lyricists. Sameer, who was dominating the charts with his writing style, was invited to the BR Films office. The moment Sameer sat in the historic cabin where icons like Sahir Ludhianvi sat, B.R. Chopra’s love for words became the driving force behind his writing.

Aadesh Shrivastava was also close friends with Amitabh Bachchan, which made a huge difference. Aadesh Shrivastava strongly believed that a professional singer should not sing this song. Instead, he insisted that Amitabh Bachchan must sing it himself. He felt that only the actor’s real, unpolished voice could truly capture the deep pain and sadness of an elderly husband.

Amitabh Bachchan and Hema Malini were both nominated for Best Actor and Best Actress at the 49th Filmfare Awards. Baghban was also nominated for the Best Film.

Lyrics: Sameer
Music: Aadesh Shrivastava
Singer: Amitabh Bachchan
*ing: Amitabh Bachchan, Hema Malini
Producer/Writer: B. R. Chopra
Director: Ravi Chopra
Film: Baghban (2003)

After wrapping up the film, the filmmaker now moves on this next project. He approaches a veteran cinematographer.

“This is a film about the Bombay riots. A young man is caught in a situation that is not of his own making. But I don’t want this to be a sad film. I want to show everything that came before the riots as beautiful as possible”, the filmmaker tells the cinematographer.

The cinematographer thinks for a while. The riots happened in December of 1992 and January of 1993. This means the six month period before the riots would be the monsoon season.

“Let’s shoot a lot of shots in the rain”, the cinematographer responds.

The filmmaker likes this suggestion. The monsoon season elevates the beauty of nature. The cinematographer goes on a recce to identify some locations. He selects Bekal Fort in Kerala for the location of a song.

The Bekal Fort is a medieval fort built in 1650 AD. It is the largest fort in Kerala, spreading over 40 acres. Moreover, the fort appears to just emerge from the sea. Three-quarters of the fort exterior is in contact with the water.

The filmmaker loves the location. It is a beautiful backdrop for a love song.

“I want a love song”, the filmmaker tells the composer.

The composer is in a completely different headspace. “What love song?”, he thinks to himself. He has had a lot of late and sleepless nights. He has no fuel left in him. He needs to recharge.

But the filmmaker’s request is urgent. The composer finds his way to his piano. This is where he does his best work as he composes his tunes. He glides his fingers over the ivories. But tonight the notes do not come. He sits at the piano long enough hoping inspiration to strike.

He is too tired to even think. And too tired to be frustrated. The mind starts to slowly shut down. The shoulders slacken first. Then the spine starts to slump. The fingers, which were searching the piano keys, now just rest on them.

Sleep does not arrive all at once. It comes like surrender. The body loosens its hold on itself little by little, eyelids growing too heavy by the second, breathing slowing down. Conscious thoughts begin to recede. The chatter dies down. The conscious mind that has tried to find a tune can no longer command itself to continue.

But even in that state something still remains awake beneath everything.

As the composer drifts deeper into the border between sleep state and dream state, the subconscious starts moving through memory, fragments of sound, and feeling. There is no effort. There is no analysis. There is no intent. There is no need to force creativity into existence. The subconscious mind begins assembling what the conscious mind could not.

Somewhere in that sleep state, the tune comes to him. He is suddenly awakened by his awkward posture. The tune stays with him through his journey back to wakefulness. It is a slow tune. He quickly records himself humming it into the mini cassette-player that is always dutifully within his arm’s reach. And he goes to bed.

The next afternoon the composer finds the mini cassette-player and listens to the tune. It is slow. In fact, it is too slow.

The filmmaker calls. “Where is the tune?”

“I got a tune, but it is very slow for a love song”, the composer admits.

The filmmaker doesn’t seem to be bothered. “It’s ok. Let’s record.”

The composer thinks about who might be the best singer to sing the song. He writes down two names on paper. Both are veteran popular singers who would do justice to the song. But he is not able to make up his mind.

He leaves the paper with the two names on the table and walks around. Another name comes to his mind. He writes it down as the third name. Still he is not able to make up his mind.

The composer then creates three chits of paper, with one name on each, folds them and puts them in a hat. Let destiny take care of it, he thinks.

He closes his eyes, says a prayer, and picks up one chit. He opens it. It is the third singer’s name. He is a very unusual singer for this song, the composer thinks to himself. This person is a ghazal singer. He doesn’t stand on one note. That’s his style. But that’s the chit that got picked. So why argue with destiny?

The singer is contacted and beckoned to the studio. He is given the lyrics and the tune. The singer has a feeling of deja vu. Where has he heard this tune before? Has he heard it before? It sure feels like he has heard this tune somewhere. But where? It sounds so familiar.

The singer is curious to know the music. But there is none. The music and orchestration has not been arranged yet. The tune is all there is. And a click track and a light harmony. The singer sings the song with only his voice getting recorded in the studio.

The filmmaker then takes the track to the Bekal Fort location for filming.

As they film the love song with the hero and heroine, at the end of the shoot, the filmmaker calls the composer, saying, “This song is doing something. It’s magic.” The composer finds it interesting. The filmmaker continues, “I think we need some BGM when the heroine is running towards the hero.” BGM, industry lingo for background music.

The orchestration along with BGM is added to the song. The song becomes even more magical.

AR Rahman composed the music of Bombay (1995) and the song Tu Hi Re, sung by Hariharan, Kavita Krishnamurthy and Sunanda (humming), lyrics by Mehboob. The song is filmed on Anand Swamy and Manisha Koirala.

Bombay is written and directed by Mani Ratnam, as the second in the trilogy of Roja (1992), and Dil Se (1998). The film was very well received both critically and commercially, and the soundtrack of the film became immensely popular.

Hariharan recorded the song in 30-45 minutes flat, as he felt he already knew the tune in his heart and it did not take him long to learn it. He first recorded the Tamil version and then the Hindi version. The female vocals, and the music orchestration were all added later.

The two other names that AR Rahman wrote in the hat were SP Balasubramanyam and Yesudas.

Bombay won the Filmfare Award for Best Film (Critics) awarded to Mani Ratnam, and Best Actress (Critics) for Manisha Koirala.

Watch Hariharan sing this song live:

Music: AR Rahman
Singers: Hariharan, Kavita Krishnamurthy, Sunanda
Lyrics: Mehboob
*ing: Anand Swamy, Manisha Koirala
Director: Mani Ratnam
Film: Bombay (1995)

The lyricist and the duo of composers are in a small music room. They are excited. They have just finished a new tune. The lyrics match the exact situation of the film. The filmmaker sits across from them.

“Bhai, yeh gana suno, aapko pasand aayega” Brother, listen to this song, you will like it, says one of the composers.

They begin to sing the hook of the song.

The filmmaker holds up his hand, stopping them mid-sentence. “Yeh kya hai? Yeh labz bahut purana lag raha hai.” What is this? This word feels very old-fashioned.

The lyricist is disappointed but keeps his composure. “Lekin story ke hisaab se yeh labz hi sahi hai.” But according to the story, this word is the right one.

The filmmaker is visibly frustrated now.

The composers exchange a look. They agree with the lyricist. “Theek hai, shayad humari awaaz mein accha nahi lag raha hai.” Okay, maybe it doesn’t sound good in our voices. The composer says. “Singer ko bulate hain.” Let’s call the singer.

A few hours later, the male singer enters the booth. He sings the lines with deep emotion. His voice is smooth and perfect. He finishes and looks at the filmmaker through the glass.

The filmmaker still looks bored. “Gaana to accha gaaya, par gaane mein dum nahi hai.” He sang well, but the song doesn’t feel powerful.

Both composers are frustrated. There is another sad version of the song planned, and they were planning to have a different singer for it. Why not call the other singer too? This song is already on the chopping block. Last-ditch effort. They decide to call him.

The second singer shows up at the studio in a few days. He sings the same lines in his own unique style. It sounds like a guaranteed blockbuster.

“Ab toh pasand aaya hoga?” Do you like it now? The composer asks with a lot of hope.

“Nahi,” No, the filmmaker says bluntly. “Iss labz ka koi throw hi nahin hai.” There is no throw in this word.

The composer stands up, his face red with anger. Enough is enough.

“Aapko lagta hai yeh nahi chalega?” You think this won’t work? He shouts. “Agar yeh gana hit nahi hua, toh recording ka kharcha main dunga.” If this song is not a hit, I will pay the cost of the recording.

The room goes silent. The filmmaker looks surprised. He wasn’t expecting this reaction.

“Lekin,” But, the composer continues, “agar yeh hit ho gaya, toh aap mujhe double paise denge.” if it becomes a hit, then you will pay me double the money.

The filmmaker looks at the confident faces of the composer. He shrugs and says, “Theek hai, mujhe manzoor hai.” Okay, I agree.

The composer snaps back to the present. He can feel the weight of the double payment in his hand. He looks at the filmmaker and smiles.

“Maine kaha tha na,” I told you so, the composer says softly.

The filmmaker laughs and nods. The word he hated is now playing on every radio station in the country.

Sameer wrote the lyrics of the song Pardesi Pardesi in the film Raja Hindustani. The music was composed by Nadeem-Shravan, and the film was directed by Dharmesh Darshan. The film was produced by Karim Morani along with his partners at Cineyug, Ali Morani and Bunty Soorma. The first version of the song was sung by Udit Narayan, Alka Yagnik, and Sapna Awasthi. The second version was sung by Kumar Sanu and Alka Yagnik. In the film, the song was picturized on Aamir Khan and Karishma Kapoor.

Sameer, along with Nadeem-Shravan, was excited about this song and wanted to play it for Karim Morani. As soon as Karim Morani heard the word “Pardesi”, he felt it was a turn off for him. The word didn’t have a throw, and because of the way the tune was composed, it was sung as if it were made of two separate words. Nadeem felt that he could convince him by having Udit Narayan sing. When that didn’t work, he called Kumar Sanu to sing it. When that also did not work, he was irate. He told the producer that if the song does not become a big hit, he will pay for the entire expense incurred during the recording of the song. But if the song is a hit, the producer will pay him double.

At the 42nd Filmfare Awards in 1997, the film emerged as the biggest winner of the night, sweeping the major categories. The film won a total of five awards: Best Film, Best Actor (Aamir Khan), and Best Actress (Karisma Kapoor). Nadeem-Shravan won Best Music Director, and Udit Narayan took home Best Male Playback Singer specifically for the song Pardesi Pardesi.

Lyrics: Sameer
Music: Nadeem-Shravan
Singers (Version 1): Udit Narayan, Alka Yagnik
Singers (Version 2): Kumar Sanu, Alka Yagnik, Sapna Awasthi
*ing: Aamir Khan, Karishma Kapoor
Director: Dharmesh Darshan
Producer: Karim Morani
Film: Raja Hindustani (1996)

The filmmaker, lyricist, and the composer are in a sitting. Many songs have been decided. The lyricist and the composer have written them during their struggling days, just imagining different film situations and writing songs, with the hope that someday some filmmaker might want them.

This filmmaker has not just liked, but loved the songs. He has selected some of the choicest compositions and songs from their library that went very well with the situations in the film.

Now two new songs need to be written. The filmmaker starts describing the situation. The hero is sad. Circumstances have led the heroine and the hero to have split. They have grown apart, even geographically. She is now married to another man who loves her equally. But the first love is still burning in the hero’s and heroine’s hearts.

“Yeh sad situation hai. Heroine ghayal hai, hospital mein hai. Uska pati uski dekhbhal kar raha hai. Aur hero ko bhi woh usi waqt yaad aa rahi hai,” the filmmaker explains. This is a sad situation. The heroine is wounded, and in the hospital. Her husband is looking after her. And the hero is also remembering her at the same time.

The filmmaker looks at the composer, “Koi tune hai?” Do you have any tune.

The composer looks at the lyricist, “Yeh likh ke denge tab hi dhun banayenge.” If he writes something only then will a tune get made.

The filmmaker looks at the lyricist, “Koi hook word aa sakta hai kya?” Is it possible to have a hook word?

A hook word. A specific word or short phrase that functions as the core memory trigger of the song. It is usually repeated multiple times. It is emotionally distinctive and central to the title or the chorus of the song. Most importantly, it is easy to remember after just listening to the song only once. It is like the linguistic anchor of the song.

They start discussing the situation and see if a hook word emerges from that. The heroine’s husband is looking after her in the hospital. They start riffing on the situation and the emotions of the two men, the hero and the husband,

“Pati soch raha hai, kya woh theek hogi na?”, the lyricist says. The husband is thinking, will she recover alright?

“Hero bhi to kuch sochta hoga na”, the filmmaker adds. The hero must also be thinking something.

Something is taking shape in the lyricist’s mind, but he is not ready to share it yet. He is not sure if that is the hook phrase. It is a bit outside the norm. How to weave it into every line? So he keeps his thoughts to himself.

Suddenly another director walks into the room. Important enough to distract the filmmaker’s attention. Something needs to be attended to. The director takes stock of the situation that they are writing a song for.

“Bhai, yeh situation aisi hai na, jaise Roja ka gaana hai na, Roja janeman, aisa udaas hona chahiye,” he says to the lyricist. Brother, this situation is like that song from the film Roja, my beloved Roja, it needs to be sad like that.

The lyricist thinks about it and feels a flash of a thought come to him, almost as if a divine intervention.

He turns to the filmmaker. “Ek baat batao. Agar aap aur mein juda hotey hain, aur mein kahin aur chale gaya, kisi doosre shahar mein, kuch dinon ke liye, saalon ke liye, to kya hum rone waali baatein yaad karenge?” Tell me one thing. If you and I get separated, and say I went away somewhere, in some other city, for a few days, a few years, then are we going to remember things that will make us sad?

The filmmaker keeps his gaze fixed on the lyricist. The gears are starting to turn in his head.

The lyricist continues, “Ya hum ye baatein yaad karenge, ki yaad hai apun khana khane gaye thay? Yaad hai apun Juhu pe gaye thay, phir apni ice cream gir gayi, phir apun ne mitti se uthake, vagayra vagayra?” Or will we remember things like, remember that one time we went for dinner? Remember we went to Juhu, and our ice cream fell down, and then we tried to pick it up from the ground, etc., etc.?

“Haan aisa bhi ho sakta hai”, the filmmaker agrees. Yes, it can be like this also.

“Why not talk some good things?”, the lyricist reinforces.

The filmmaker sees the situation from a different angle.

“Mere zahen mein kuch hai. Mein mukhda likhta hoon,” the lyricist requests. I have something in my mind. Let me write the opening refrain.

The lyricist writes the mukhda and finds a way to weave in the hook phrase he had been thinking of. He presents it to the filmmaker. If the filmmaker approves the mukhda, then the antaras practically write themselves.

The rest of the song is already taking shape in the lyricist’s mind. Aisa hoga na? Waisa hoga na? Won’t it be like this? Won’t it be like that?

The filmmaker loves it, even the hook phrase, “hoga na?”. He hugs the lyricist.

In the next 30 minutes, the lyricist completes the entire song. In the following half hour, the composer sets the tune.

The team is so happy with the way the whole song has turned out.

The recording is scheduled with the male singer. He arrives at the studio. The female playback singer is also requested to lend her vocals to the alaap in the background.

The male singer takes a look at the lyrics. Something about this song is unusual. He reads it again, and again, and then again. This song does not follow the usual structure, where the refrain repeats after each stanza. It is one flowing narrative. Not a single line repeats. This is so unusual, he compliments the lyricist.

Mehboob wrote the lyrics of the song Jhoka Hawa Ka, and all the other songs of the film Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam (1999), music by Ismail Darbar, story, screenplay, and direction by Sanjay Leela Bhansali. Aishwarya Rai, Ajay Devgn, and Salman Khan play the lead roles. The song is sung by Hariharan and Kavita Krishnamurthy.

Listen to the song carefully and realize that not a line is repeated. Such beautiful poetry and composition.

Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam was a blockbuster musical hit, and all the songs were immensely popular. The film also won Filmfare awards for: Best Film, Best Director (Sanjay Leela Bhansali), Best Actress (Aishwarya Rai), RD Burman Award (Ismail Darbar), Best Background Score (Anjan Biswas), Best Male Playback Singer (Udit Narayan for Chand Chupa), Best Choreography (Saroj Khan for Nimbooda), Best Art Direction (Nitin Desai), and nominations for Best Actor (Ajay Devgn, Salman Khan), Best Music Director (Ismail Darbar), Best Lyricist (Mehboob), Best Male Playback Singer (KK, Kumar Sanu), and Best Female Playback Singer (Alka Yagnik, Kavita Krishnamurthy).

Listen to Hariharan’s live performance in concert:

Also Hariharan’s rendition on MTV Unplugged is equally beautiful:

Lyrics: Mehboob
Music: Ismail Darbar
Singers: Hariharan, Kavita Krishnamurthy
*ing: Aishwarya Rai, Ajay Devgn, Salman Khan
Director: Sanjay Leela Bhansali
Film: Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam (1999)

The son, a gangly, wooden and gawky young man, provokes nothing but laughter. His dialogue delivery is a disaster. His physical movements are in a state of complete disarray.

In other words, this is a regulation Hindi masala film, with an inexperienced lead pair, that can only be saved by music.

The lead pair is in their 20s. The lead playback singers are in their 50s. The vocal stress at higher octaves is beginning to show on the female singer. The male singer’s voice has coarsened too, so much so that the heavy bass seems to dominate everything else at times. It is hampering the free flow one associated with his voice.

Given this the composition needs to be restrained and sober. The composer is aware of all this. He can no longer let his imagination run wild, with musicians and singers improving on the spot like they used to do in the ‘70s.

The guitarist is busy practicing in the studio, fiddling around the chords for the G-minor scale. The natural G-minor in its basic form is: G-A-B(flat)-C-D-E(flat)-F-G.

He keeps stringing the chord. All of a sudden, it strikes him that he could use the D-seventh instead. It seems to strengthen the harmonic pull back to G.

Instead of the D minor (D-F-A), he decides to play the D7 chord: D-F#-A-C.

The F# is not in the natural G-minor.

The guitarist is excited. The F# creates a tension and release and strongly resolves to G-minor.

This is one of the most common moves in Western music like classical jazz.

A tune seems to emerge based on the new chord progression: G-A-B(flat)-C-D-E(flat)-F#-G.

As the guitarist is engrossed in this, the composer walks into the room. He immediately gets busy with his own activities, but has one ear on the guitarist.

The guitarist, meanwhile, has figured out the entire song on the guitar.

“Dada, isko try karo,” the guitarist asks the composer. Dada, try this out.

He adds, “Yeh G-minor progression par based hai.” It is based on the G-minor progression.

The composer listens to it. He asks the guitarist to play it again.

“Lekin ismein G-minor kahan hai?” the composer asks, confused. Where is the G-minor?

“G-minor nahin hai. Khali ek bar shuruat mein hai,” the guitarist confesses. There is no G-minor. It’s touched upon once in the beginning.

The composer likes it a lot. “Haan, isko hi lete hain,” he tells the guitarist. Yes, let’s take this.

The playback singers arrive for the recording. The composer explains to them that there is a new tune for the song. They start rehearsals.

After one rehearsal, the female playback singer turns to the composer and says, “Thank you. Ye bahot acchi dhun banai hai.” Thank you. You have composed a very beautiful tune.

The composer deflects the praise towards the guitarist, “Don’t thank me, thank him.”

Bhanu Gupta, RD Burman’s core musician, composed the tune of Kya Yahi Pyar Hai in Rocky (1981), lyrics by Anand Bakshi, and playback by Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar. Sunil Dutt produced and directed Rocky as a launch vehicle for his son, Sanjay Dutt, and Tina Munim.

Rocky was released only a few days after the death of Nargis, Sunil Dutt’s wife and Sanjay’s mother. A chair was left vacant at the premiere of the film.

The songs of Rocky were a massive hit. Aa Dekhe Jara, Aao Mere Yaaron Aao, Doston Ko Salaam, and Hum Tumse Mile were all widely popular.

Sunil Dutt said in an interview that Pancham understood youth like no other music director did.

Music: Bhanu Gupta, RD Burman
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Singers: Lata Mangeshkar, Kishore Kumar
*ing: Sanjay Dutt, Tina Munim
Director: Sunil Dutt
Film: Rocky (1981)

Except this one song. It is a soulful track. The song was written by the lyricist while the filmmaker was describing the scene to him. It is about a son playing hide and seek with his mother, and with the sad reality that the son may be hidden forever. The composer, known for his global sounds, is ready with the melody. There is only one singer out there who can do justice to this song.

The filmmaker approaches the singer, a living legend in her late 70s. The composer prefers to record all his music in Chennai, but in this case, he is willing to come to Mumbai. After all, she is the legend. But the singer insists on flying to Chennai and record the song in his studio.

She arrives three days before the recording date to adjust to the different environment. Instead of resting at her hotel, she heads straight to the studio to meet the filmmaker and the composer.

“Mujhe dhun sunaiye, main abhi riyaz shuru karna chahti hoon,” the singer says to the composer. Play the tune for me, I want to start practicing right now.

For the next three days, the singer is inseparable from her Sony Walkman. She carries a cassette of the composition everywhere, listening to it repeatedly.

“Har note mere dil aur dimaag mein baith jaana chahiye,” she tells the filmmaker during the break. Every note must be engraved in my heart and mind.

On the day of the recording, the singer shows up early. She stands before the microphone, ready to pour her soul out about a mother’s grief.

For most singers, the composer would record one line at a time and then stitch them together. But this singer is adamant about recording full verses in one take. How else to make sure her voice reflects the right emotions? The downside is that there will be too many retakes.

Hours pass. It has been eight hours now, and the singer has been standing patiently for all those hours. The filmmaker is silently observing this and feeling guilty at the same time. How come they didn’t arrange for a chair?

They decide to take a break. The singer goes for a cup of tea and is right back after that.

Oh wait! Something is different inside the recording room. The microphone has been lowered, and there is a chair next to it. The singer looks at the setup and shakes her head.

“Mic itna neeche kyun hai? Isse upar kijiye,” the singer requests. Why is the mic so low? Please move it higher.

The filmmaker steps forward. “Aap thak jayengi, baith kar gaaiye,” he suggests softly. You will get tired, please sit and sing.

“Main baith kar nahi gaa sakti. Khade rehne se hi awaaz sahi nikalti hai,” she explains firmly. I cannot sing while sitting. My voice comes out properly only when I stand.

The filmmaker doesn’t want to argue. He calls the crew to restore the original setup. The recording continues. As she sings, the pain of a mother just comes pouring out. Everyone in the studio is in tears.

Lata Mangeshkar sang Luka Chuppi in the film Rang De Basanti. The music was composed by AR Rahman, and the lyrics were written by Prasoon Joshi. The film was produced and directed by Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra. The song plays in the background during the cremation services of one of the characters, played by Madhavan, who dies in a plane accident. Waheeda Rehman, Aamir Khan, and several other actors are part of the group attending his final rites.

AR Rahman wanted the music of the film to sound like the voice of the youth. To achieve this, he intentionally chose fresh or unconventional voices for many of the tracks. Naresh Iyer was the biggest discovery for this film. Rahman found him during a talent hunt on a television show. Naresh ended up singing lead vocals for Roobaroo and Paathshala. For the title track, Rahman chose Daler Mehndi. He wanted a high-energy, powerful Punjabi voice. For the emotional song of the film, Luka Chuppi, Rahman and the filmmaker agreed that only a legendary voice would work. This led them to approach Lata Mangeshkar.

Even at the age of 76, Lata Mangeshkar insisted that she wanted to sing the song standing upright since that’s how you get the best voice out of you. In spite of standing for over eight hours, she still refused to sit down.

AR Rahman won the Filmfare Best Music Director Award, and had two of its songs, Khalbali and Luka Chuppi, considered for an Academy Award for Best Original Song nomination.

Lyrics: Prasoon Joshi
Music: AR Rahman
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
*ing: Waheeda Rehman, Aamir Khan
Producer/Director: Rakeysh Om Prakash Mehra
Film: Rang De Basanti (2006)

Normally, at this point, the song is on its way to the filmmaker for filming to proceed.

So the lyricist is surprised to get a phone call from the composer.

“I need a female voice in this song, in between the antaras (stanzas),” the composer says from the other side.

“I need a ‘pa’ sounding word. Can you give me something?”, the composer continues.

The lyricist pauses to think. The composer pauses to let the lyricist think. They both have a deep respect for the creative process. It must not be hurried.

The composer expects the lyricist to come back to him in a day or two. He is ready to hang up the phone and get on to other things.

The pause is a little long. The composer realizes the lyricist is thinking rather deeply. He does not want to propose ending the conversation. So he continues to hold.

The lyricist takes a breath. The composer can hear it on the other side.

After a minute, which must have felt like a year, the lyricist suggests three words, all beginning with the sound ‘pa’.

“Do these words have any meaning, or are they just sounds?”, the composer asks. He is not well versed in Hindi.

The lyricist explains that the first word, which repeats as the second word, is Sanskrit and Bengali for bird. The third word suggests it is a migratory bird.

“Another interpretation might suggest that we’re talking of a bird from a foreign land that is bound to return home one day,” explains the lyricist.

The composer is overjoyed. He promptly records the words in a female voice and not only inserts it in between the antaras, but also starts off the song with them.

Gulzar wrote the lyrics for Ae Ajnabi Tu Bhi Kabhi and other songs of the film Dil Se (1998), music by AR Rehman, written and directed by Mani Ratnam. Shah Rukh Khan and Manisha Koirala play the lead roles. The song is sung by Udit Narayan and Mahalakshmi Iyer.

Gulzar gave the words “Paakhi paakhi pardesi” right there on the phone to Rahman.

Watch this song performed live in concert.

Lyrics: Gulzar
Music: AR Rahman
Singers: Udit Narayan, Mahalakshmi Iyer
*ing: Shah Rukh Khan, Manisha Koirala
Director: Mani Ratnam
Film: Dil Se (1998)

In due course the film is released. The superstar settles into his seat at the premier. The title credits start to roll and he sits up to take notice. Who is singing? And what a voice, this bass grunt and raspy feel is unheard of. Then as the film proceeds, the cabaret song comes on the screen. The cabaret queen serenading on the dance floor with a male extra. Again that rough, gravelly voice, a mix of baritone and tenor, playful, but with unconventional modulation conveying raw, almost animal-like intensity and emotion. Who is singing? For the rest of the film, this is the only question swirling in his mind.

At the end of the screening, while everyone tries to throng around the superstar to compliment him, he reaches out to the composer. He asks about the male voice in the title credits and the cabaret song. Who sang that? Whose voice is that?

The composer informs him that the owner of that voice was none other than himself.

“You must sing for me in one of my films,” the superstar requests.

“Sure,” the composer replies. “I promise. Sometime in the future I will compose a song and use my voice for you,” he assures.

That opportunity presents itself soon enough. One of the ten films the superstar is shooting in parallel has a sequence where the superstar must don a disguise and enter the villainous hideout. They must not recognize him. So why not give the superstar a different voice?

The composer informs the superstar that this song would be a perfect opportunity to use his own voice, instead of the usual and popular playback singer.

The superstar is excited. This seems like a reasonable situation. It would be a big departure. It would be unexpected for the audience who has grown accustomed to hearing the popular playback singer deliver one hit song after another for the superstar. It has been an amazing troika of a partnership - the superstar, the playback singer, and the composer.

The song is composed and rehearsals proceed. The superstar attends all the rehearsals, not waiting to show his presence for just the final recording.

At one of the rehearsals, the superstar feels unsure. Perhaps cronies hanging around him have planted the seeds of doubt.

Why mess with what’s been working? Why give the audience something different than they are used to? If even one song of his film is a dud, his superstar status might be in jeopardy. Why risk it? Why change? Just stick with the formula. Keep giving people what they want.

The superstar takes the composer to one side.

“I don’t think you should sing for me,” he tells the composer.

The composer is confused. The superstar had been so eager and excited to have his voice for playback. What happened all of a sudden?

He rubs his chin and thinks for a while.

“I understand you are feeling nervous. But look at the situation,” he tells the superstar. “You are not in your normal hero look. You are in disguise. So the audience will understand why you have a different voice.”

The superstar is still skeptical. But he doesn’t have a good reason and argument as to why he just wants to stick with the tried and tested.

“I don’t know how cine-goers will react. You don’t know how they will react. What if they find all this too quirky and bizarre?” The superstar pushes his case.

“Look, don’t worry,” the composer responds. He adds, “This is going to be an unconventional song and it is going to jolt your fans. Take it from me. It will become a cult song.”

The superstar relents seeing the conviction and confidence of the composer. And the composer is eventually proved right.

RD Burman composed and sang the song Duniya Mein Logon Ko for the film Apna Desh (1972), lyrics by Anand Bakshi. The film is a remake of a 1969 Telugu film and directed by CP Jambulingam. Rajesh Khanna, Mumtaz are in lead roles. The female playback is provided by Asha Bhosle.

RD used his raspy voice for the opening credits of The Train (1970) and also the song O Meri Jaan (duet with Asha Bhosle), which made many people take notice and ask who was singing in this unusual voice.

RD demonstrated complete control of the sur and taal despite his heavy palpations and voice modulation. Even though he sang in a gravelly husky voice the words were clearly pronounced.

It is said that fans went crazy when this song came on in theaters. Apna Desh was the first film to ever screen at Samrat Talkies in Goregaon, Mumbai.

The guitar portion of the song around 3:06 is sampled from the song Jingo by Santana around 0:58.

Watch Pancham da and Asha ji singing the song live on Doordarshan.

Singers: RD Burman, Asha Bhosle
Music: RD Burman
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
*ing: Rajesh Khanna, Mumtaz
Director: CP Jambulingam
Film: Apna Desh (1972)

The lead actor doesn’t waste any time. He reaches Bombay and immediately sets up meetings with various producers and directors.

Lead Actor: “Yeh gaana suniye, ismein kuch alag baat hai.” Listen to this song. There is something special about it. It is the 90s. The melody in the Hindi film industry has just made a comeback now, after the terrible 80s.

The filmmakers are not impressed. “Gaana toh achha hai, par yeh humare yahan nahi chalega. Yeh thoda zyada British pop sa lag raha hai.” The song is good, but it won’t work here. It sounds a bit too much like British pop. He repeatedly hears the same feedback. He keeps trying. But no luck.

6 years pass by.

The lead actor is now preparing for a new film. This time, the filmmaker is his own brother. It’s like a home production. The lead actor knows very well that this is the perfect moment.

Lead Actor: “Ab sahi waqt hai. Hum woh gaana apni film mein istemal karenge.” Now is the right time. We will use that song in our film.

Filmmaker: “Theek hai, agar tumhe lagta hai yeh chalega, toh hum composers aur lyricist se baat karte hain.” Okay, if you think this will work, then we will talk to the composers and the lyricist.

There are three sets of composers and lyricists for this film. No compromise when it comes to music. They know which composer will be well-suited for this song.

They meet with the duo-composers and the lyricist. The lead actor plays the song from the same CD he brought from London. They all love the tune. No changes there. The lyricist feels the words could use an update to match the film. It doesn’t take too long to make those changes. They call the original singer from London. He is already famous back in the UK now since the song was released as a single and has now achieved platinum status. He arrives in Bombay and completes the recording.

Next, the crew meets at Madh Island to shoot the music video. The lead actor is known for his incredible physique. He has spent years in the gym, and that has changed the image of the Bollywood hero. As a result, everyone feels pressured to have muscles these days to succeed as a hero.

On the set, the lead actor tries to put on the t-shirt required during the song. He has recently gained even more muscle due to a strict workout schedule.

The t-shirt clings to his body like it is part of it. Also, it is quite short. His belly button is exposed. “Yeh kya t-shirt hai! Yeh mujh par blouse jaisi lag rahi hai.” Look at this t-shirt! It looks like a blouse on me.

The entire crew is there, ready to shoot. Getting another custom-fitted t-shirt is next to impossible. The filmmaker has signs of worry on his face. "Hamare paas dusri t-shirt laane ka waqt nahi hai. Ab kya karein?" We don't have time to order another t-shirt. What do we do now?

The lead actor is not that worried. He is known to show off his body. “Ek kaam karte hain. Mein bina shirt ke shooting kar leta hoon.” Let’s do one thing. I will shoot the song without a shirt.

The filmmaker is not amused. Even though he is younger than the lead actor, he is worried about the audience. “Bina shirt ke? Pata nahi Indian audience ise kaise dekhegi.” Without a shirt? I don’t know how the Indian audience will react to this.

The elder brother inside the lead actor comes out. “Tu chinta mat kar bhai. Sab theek ho jayega. Log bilkul pasand karenge.” Don’t worry, brother. Everything will be fine. People will absolutely like it.

Kamaal Khan provided the male playback voice for the song O O Jaane Jaana in the film Pyaar Kiya To Darna Kya. The music was composed by Jatin-Lalit, and the lyrics were written by Sameer. The film was produced and directed by Sohail Khan, and the lead actor was Salman Khan.

Salman Khan and Kamaal Khan knew each other through their social circles and had struck a deep friendship. On one of his visits, Kamaal Khan gave Salman Khan a recording of the original version of O O Jaane Jaana. Salman Khan loved it and wanted to use it in one of his upcoming films. He faced a lot of resistance from the filmmakers of that era due to the song sounding like British pop. While the Hindi film industry was rejecting the song, it was officially produced and released as an independent single in the UK in 1996. It became a massive hit there, which finally gave Salman Khan the proof of concept he needed to convince his brother, Sohail Khan, to use it in Pyaar Kiya To Darna Kya.

This is the original version of the song that Kamaal Khan produced as a single.

The music for Pyaar Kiya To Darna Kya was composed by Jatin–Lalit, Himesh Reshammiya, and Sajid–Wajid. The lyrics for all tracks by Jatin–Lalit were written by Sameer, the lyrics for Himesh Reshammiya’s tracks were written by Sudhakar Sharma, and the lyrics for Sajid–Wajid’s track was written by Iqbal Sabri. For the fast-paced song O O Jaane Jaana, Sohail and Salman Khan decided to go with Jatin-Lalit and Sameer.

There was also a wardrobe malfunction incident during the shoot when the t-shirt, which was custom-made for Salman Khan, did not fit him. With no quick alternative, Salman Khan convinced Sohail Khan that he should go shirtless. Thus started the era of Salman Khan, where he would appear shirtless frequently in his subsequent films and concerts.

At the 44th Filmfare Awards, Pyaar Kiya To Darna Kya received seven nominations, including Best Film, Best Director (Sohail Khan), Best Actor (Salman Khan), and Best Supporting Actor (Arbaaz Khan). Kamaal Khan won the RD Burman Award for New Music Talent for O O Jaane Jaana.

Singer: Kamaal Khan
Music: Jatin-Lalit
Lyrics: Sameer
*ing: Salman Khan
Producer/Director: Sohail Khan
Film: Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya (1998)

A filmmaker from South India travels to Bombay with a script and a briefcase.

He meets the lead actor and makes him an offer that he can’t refuse. “Main aapko is film ke liye dhai lakh rupaye dena chahta hoon. Ye aapka signing amount hai.” I want to give you 2.5 lakh rupees as a signing amount for this film.

The lead actor is stunned. It is a massive amount of money. He feels good about his stardom. That dream house seems a lot closer now. Without reading a single page of the script, he takes the cash and pays the down payment for his dream home.

A few days later, the lead actor finds the script still sitting on the coffee table and finally decides to read it. His heart sinks. What are these animals doing? The plot feels outdated and totally out of sync with his Hindi film fan audience. Since this is a remake of a Tamil film, they have hired this young duo writer team to write the screenplay. They are just starting their career. The lead actor immediately reaches out to them.

“Agar maine yeh film ki, toh mera career khatam ho jayega.” If I do this film, my career will be over. He almost pleads with the writer team.

“Aur agar maine paise waapas kiye to ghar haath se nikal jayega.” And if I return the signing amount then I lose my dream house. He continues pleading.

The writers decide to give it a read. How bad can it be? They both read the script, and they can’t believe it. It is awful. This will be a suicide for the lead actor’s career. They all decide to go and meet the filmmaker.

The filmmaker loves animals, and they were in the original Tamil version. He insists that the animals have to stay in the film. The writing team stands their ground and wants to get rid of the animals to write a story for the budding superstar. The filmmaker shoots it down. That is a non-starter. The writers go back and start whispering their counteroffer.

“Humein hero ke saath chaar haathi manzoor hain, lekin baki sab badalna hoga.” We accept your hero and four elephants, but everything else must change. The writers put down their offer firmly.

The filmmaker agrees. The writers go back and rewrite the entire screenplay to make it emotional and modern for the Hindi-speaking audience. They make room for the elephants, too. Now, the film needs a soul. It needs music.

The lead actor goes to the studio to meet the duo of composers and the lyricist. They need a title song that captures the friendship between a man and his elephants.

The lead actor tells the lyricist. “Gana aisa hona chahiye jo sabko jhumne par majboor kar de.” The song should be such that it forces everyone to dance.

The lyricist writes simple but catchy words. The composers create a rhythm that matches the heavy, rhythmic footsteps of an elephant.

The singer is brought in to give the song its playful energy. He adds his signature style, making the song feel like a conversation between friends. Except the friends are animals here.

You can watch the actual video of the song here on YouTube.

Rajesh Khanna played the lead actor role in the film Haathi Mere Saathi. Anand Bakshi wrote the lyrics of the song Chal Chal Mere Saathi, Laxmikant Pyarelal composed the music, and Kishore Kumar provided the playback. Chinnappa Thevar wrote the story for the Tamil version of the film, Deiva Cheyal, and also produced the Hindi version of the film. Salim-Javed were the screenplay writers. This was their debut film.

Rajesh Khanna had quickly climbed the ladder of stardom with hits such as Aradhana and Do Raaste. As a result, all producers were reaching out to him, including the ones from the South. In order to entice him into their films, they were offering large signing amounts to lock him in their films.

Chinnappa Thevar, a producer from South, did the same and gave Rajesh Khanna 2.5 lakh rupees as a signing amount. Rajesh Khanna had his eye on Rajendra Kumar’s bungalow that was up for sale, but did not have sufficient cash on hand. This signing amount helped him to close on that house. Unfortunately, he did not read the script before doing this. Once he read the script, he realized how awful it was and did not match his persona as a romantic superstar. But it was too late since he had used up all the money and had no other option.

He reached out to Salim-Javed, who were starting their writing career with this film. They both agreed with Rajesh Khanna on the quality of the script. They were able to negotiate most parts with Chinnappa Thevar, except for a few elephants. They decided to make it a film about the friendship between the lead actor and his elephants. Based on this concept, Laxmikant Pyarelal worked with Anand Bakshi to create the title song.

The film’s music on HMV won a Silver Disc for its sales, making it the first-ever Indian gramophone record to do so.

Singer: Kishore Kumar
Music: Laxmikant Pyarelal
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
*ing: Rajesh Khanna, Tanuja
Producer: Chinnappa Thevar
Screenplay: Salim-Javed
Film: Haathi Mere Saathi (1971)

“Yeh labz theek nahi lag rahe hain,” says the composer. These words do not feel right.

The lyricist quickly writes down another version and shows it to him.

“Iske baare mein kya khayaal hai?” asks the lyricist. What about this one?

The composer shakes his head, signaling his disapproval. He is still not satisfied. Nothing is working out here in the studio. The composer tells everyone to pack up for the day. They both decide to leave the studio and head over to the composer’s house. The plan is to work late into the night. They iterate for hours, but the perfect tune is still out of reach.

By late evening of the next day, something sparks in the composer’s mind. For some reason, an old folk song keeps coming back. It is an old folk song from Uttar Pradesh. Born in Lucknow, this one is especially close to his heart. A song about love that screams defiance.

“Ek kaam karo. Iss lok geet ke alfaz aur dhun ko dhyan se suno.” the composer suggests. Do one thing. Listen carefully to the words and tune of this song.

The lyricist listens to the song. The spirit is there, but the words need to be polished. He adapts the simple folk language to match the dignity of a royal Mughal court. Finally, they have it.

“Ab yeh sahi hai,” says the composer after listening to the new lyrics. Now this is the right one.

They invite the female singer to the studio. She practices her lines, and the initial rehearsals sound amazing. The filmmaker enters the room from the back and listens quietly.

The composer and lyricist turn to the filmmaker and tacitly try to get his impression of what they just heard. “Gaana bahut accha hai, lekin…” the filmmaker takes a pause there. The song is very good, but…

The filmmaker has explained the situation, but he still knows something that the music team does not know yet. He goes into the details of the set. This song will be filmed in a magnificent Sheesh Mahal —a palace of mirrors which will be built inside a fort. In fact the set will be so spectacular that he wants this song to be recorded in Technicolor.

“Aap sab samajh hi gaye honge. Mujhe is gaane mein ek gehri goonj chahiye.” the filmmaker explains. You all must have understood by now. I want a deep echo in this.

The composer realizes that a standard studio recording will sound too flat for a song that needs a massive, open palace. The technology that he has in the recording room is very basic and cannot produce what the filmmaker wants.

He starts looking around. The only option is to break the walls of the studio and expand. Then it strikes him. Of course. He goes to another adjoining room that has these shiny tiles. That should reflect some of the sound. He calls the singer over to that room.

“Zara yahan do linen gaakar sunao.” The singer obliges. There is definitely reverberation. The composer looks pleased. He rushes to a few more rooms as he needs varying degrees of reverberation throughout the song. All rooms produce a different variant of the depth needed.

“Aapko alag alag kamron mein gaana hoga.” the composer tells the singer. You will have to sing in different rooms. “Wahan se awaaz goonj kar aayegi,” the composer says as he adjusts the microphone. The sound will echo back from there.

The singer performs the song from a distance, her voice bouncing off the walls to create the grand echo that defines the character’s love for the prince as well as her rebellion against the emperor.

Naushad composed the song Jab Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya for the film Mughal-E-Azam. The lyrics were written by Shakeel Badayuni and the film was produced/directed by K. Asif. The playback was provided by Lata Mangeshkar and the song was picturized on Madhubala as Anarkali. During the song, Prithviraj Kapoor as Shahenshah Akbar and Dilip Kumar as Shehzaada Salim are in the court as Madhubala performs her dance routine.

K. Asif wanted to recreate the Sheesh Mahal (Palace of Mirrors) at Lahore Fort. At a time when entire films were made for less than ₹10 lakhs, this single set cost an estimated ₹15 lakhs. There was a technical challenge with the set. The set was made of thousands of small mirrors imported from Belgium. When the crew first tried to light it, the mirrors reflected the studio lights so intensely that they blinded the cameras and created hot spots. To capture the shimmering effect without overexposing the shot, the cinematographer, R.D. Mathur, spent days experimenting. He eventually decided to use strips of cloth to bounce and soften the light, and also used thin wax coatings on some mirrors to manage the glare.

Shakeel Badayuni wrote and discarded several drafts before arriving at the final lyrics. Naushad picked a folk song Prem Kiya, Kya Chori Kari Hai which was popular in Uttar Pradesh and decided to use its tune. Shakeel Badayuni transformed the lyrics into a defiant song of rebellion against the Emperor. In order to create the effect of an echoing voice, Naushad used different rooms with reflective tiles to achieve that. Something that is taken for granted in today’s world by the composers using the latest technology during recording.

K. Asif filmed one reel of Mughal-e-Azam, including the song Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya, in Technicolor. Impressed by the result, he filmed three more reels in Technicolor, near the story’s climax. After seeing them, he sought a complete re-shoot in Technicolor, but financiers refused. K. Asif subsequently released Mughal-e-Azam partially coloured, although he still hoped to see the full film in color.

This is Lata Mangeshkar singing the same song in a concert.

Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Music: Naushad
Lyrics: Shakeel Badayuni
*ing: Madhubala, Dilip Kumar, Prithviraj Kapoor
Producer/Director: K. Asif
Film: Mughal-e-Azam (1960)

The female singer is also there at the rehearsals. She makes a request to the arranger: “Dada, ye gaana please add kijiye, Piya Tose Naina Laage Re. Mujhe ye gaana bahot pasand hai.” Dada, please add this song, Piya Tose Naina Laage Re. I like this song a lot.

The arranger is not happy with this request. He makes it known: “Aisa kaisa add kijiye. Abhi iska notation aur music bhi nahin hai.” How can we just add it. We don’t have the notation and music for this song.

The young chap playing the octopad is watching this interaction. The composer is also watching it from the corner of his eye to see what happens.

The young chap jumps in: “Dada, mein music bataoon? Mere ko poora music maloom hai.” Dada, shall I tell the music? I know the whole music by heart.

The arranger is surprised. “Tere ko poora music maloom hai is gaane ka?” Do you know the entire music of this song?

The young chap nods in affirmation. The song is a classical song with the tabla as the main instrument. He asks for permission to play the tabla.

The composer is now perked up to see what this young chap is going to do. Without letting anyone know that he is taking interest in the proceedings, he pays attention.

The young man sings the entire music, playing the tabla along as appropriate, right from the mukhda, to the interlude music, to the antaras, including the chorus, all the way to the conclusion of the song, in proper rhythm. He also interjects to tell them which instrument is playing what.

The arranger is flabbergasted. So is the composer. In the next few minutes the arranger quickly scribbles the notation for the song. The keyboard player quickly takes down the notes for his piece in the song.

The composer is stunned. This young guy who plays the octopad can play classical on the tabla as well, and on top of that he knows the detailed music of the song! He shares his surprise: “Ae tu tabla bhi bajata hai?” Hey you play the tabla as well?

The young chap touches his ears and replies: “Dada mein seekha hoon Ustad Allah Rakha sahab se. Mein unka shagird hoon." Dada, I have learnt from Ustad Alla Rakha sir. I am his disciple.

After they rehearse a few more songs from the concert list, the female singer makes another request: “Dada ek aur gaana lete hain, Tune O Rangeele Kaisa Jaadu Kiya. Didi ka gaana hai. Mujhe bahot pasand hai.” Dada let’s take one more song, Tune O Rangeele Kaisa Jaadu Kiya. This is Didi’s song. I like this song very much.

Again, the arranger is displeased. “Iska bhi music nahin hai. Aisa tum achanak kaisa bolta hai?” The music of this song is also not ready. How can you say this suddenly?

But this time the arranger looks at the young chap. The young chap knows the question not asked and replies, “Iska bhi music by heart hai mereko, prelude music, interlude music, sab kuch.” I know the music of this song also by heart, prelude music, interlude music, everything.

Hearing this the arranger is angered. “Isko to sab kuch kaise maaloom hai?” How come this guy knows everything? The arranger has a preset list of songs that they have decided. Now that list is being thrown to the wind, and this guy seems to know the music of all songs, making it too easy to disturb his list.

So the young guy tells the entire music of this song as well, including the harmony.

The composer is at a loss of words. He somehow manages to ask: “Mera aur mere Baba ka sab gaana tumko yaad hai?” You know the music for all of my and my father’s songs?

The young man replies: “Dada, bachpan se leke aaj tak sirf aap ka hi music suna hai. Aur mere khoon mein aapke gaane daudte hain.” Dada, right from childhood I have only listened to your songs. And your music runs in my blood.

The composer is in disbelief: “Accha? Music bhi by heart hai aur rhythm bhi by heart hai?” Is that so? You know the music and also the rhythm by heart?

The young man nods affirmatively. The composer is overjoyed to hear this. He realizes this young man is a special talent. From that day onwards, the young man gains entry into the composer’s small core team of special musicians. The composer starts having a soft corner for the young man as someone who knows his style and knows everything about all his songs.

Fast forward many years. The composer has fallen on hard times in the industry. Time has passed him by. Work is down to a drip. A film has come his way. He is determined to give his best to this film. The filmmaker is very exacting in his requirements for music. He has rejected many of his tunes for songs of the film.

The composer and his team are in the midst of rehearsals and recording for one particular song that is going to be recorded.

The entire morning shift is spent in rehearsals. A lunch break is announced. The musicians leave to grab a bite. The composer, the arranger, the young man, and the recordist at the studio wait back to do some last remaining touches on the arranging.

Before the final recording, they decide on the placement of the instruments. This tabla will be on one side. That tabla will be on the back on this side. One is high pitched and the other is low pitched. These two tablas are going to play a special sound in the song. A stick is going to be hit on the surface of the tabla to create a reverberating sound. Two other tablas that will be played by hand will be in the back.

The placement of all the instruments is decided painstakingly to the composer’s satisfaction. After completing all this, they decide to step out for lunch.

The filmmaker is a few steps in front of them. The young man says to the composer: “Dada ye gaana, aapne to pura gaana udhar ka de diya.” Dada, about this song, you have taken this completely from another song.

The composer doesn’t know what the young man is talking about. He asks, “Kaunsa gaana?” Which song?

The young man sings part of the other song, “Heera To Pehle Hi Kisi Aur Ka Ho Chuka”, and then sings the refrain of this song.

The composer is not surprised this young guy knows. After all he knows everything about all his songs. But he reprimands him in jest so that the filmmaker does not hear, “Chup baith, bahot mushkil se ye gaana pass hua hai. Saale marwa dega tu mereko.” Keep quiet, this song has gotten approved with great difficulty. You will get me killed.

RD Burman composed the song, Kyon Naye Lag Rahe, and the music for his grand finale, 1942: A Love Story (1994), directed and produced by Vidhu Vinod Chopra, and starring Manisha Koirala and Anil Kapoor in lead roles. The lyrics are written by Javed Akhtar. The song is sung by Kavita Krishnamurthy.

The tune of Kyon Naye Lag Rahe is directly taken from RD’s other song Panna Ki Tamanna from the film Heera Panna starring Dev Anand and Zeenat Aman.

If you listen to the song Kyon Naye Lag Rahe, you will hear a ‘trrrrrrr’ reverberating sound before “Chupke Se”. It is made by playing a stick on a tabla. Only RD!

Nitin Shankar was RD’s percussionist and played instruments such as the octopad, tabla, and dholak. He was one of the rhythm arrangers for Sholay. He was part of RD’s core team of musicians. Shankar has worked as a rhythm arranger on many superhit films such as Baazigar, Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge, Devdas, Veer-Zaara, Black, Omkara, Rocky Aur Rani Ki Prem Kahani, among many others.

The newfound appreciation that RD gained for Nitin Shankar was when they were rehearsing for the live concert tour of South Africa. Kavita Krishnamurthy sang the female numbers. Manohari Singh was RD’s primary arranger.

Music: RD Burman
Arrangers: Manohari Singh, Nitin Shankar
Lyrics: Javed Akhtar
Singer: Kavita Krishnamurthy
*ing: Manisha Koirala
Director: Vidhu Vinod Chopra
Film: 1942: A Love Story

The lights at the Filmfare stage are blinding. The composer is slowly climbing the steps. One after another. Ok, so this is how the audience looks like from the other side when you stand on the podium. The composer accepts the award, turns around, and reaches for the microphone. He is soaking in the moment. This has been quite a journey.

“Ye bees seediyan chadhne ke liye, mujhe bees saal lag gaye.” It took me 20 years to climb these 20 steps.

Twenty steps. Twenty years.

The applause begins, but he is no longer there. He drifts back to the evening it all began.

Juhu Beach, 1992

The Silver Disc function at the Juhu Centaur Hotel is winding down. All the music greats are there, and the best among them are being felicitated. The composer stands at the edge of the room, watching. He is newly married. His father, the great composer at one point, is now without work. Legacy does not pay bills. The composer has done some great work in the past, but the music in the 90s is very different. It is a dry spell for him.

He notices one of the producers is walking towards him. Not just a producer but also a music mogul. He puts his hand on the composer’s shoulder and begins to speak. He has a new film in the works. A new male and female actor. A thriller. A bit dark with the lead actor being the antihero. Unlike anything Bollywood has seen.

“Kya meri film ka music doge?” the producer asks. Will you compose music for my film?

The composer has a puzzled look. He has enough connections in the industry to know that there is already a composer selected. In fact, they are the hottest duo composers of that era. One hit after another.

“Maine suna hai ki aapne kissi aur music director ko sign kar liya hai.” I have heard that you have signed someone else as a composer. The composer wants to confirm before he says yes or no.

The producer is expecting this question. “Haan, kiya to tha par unke saath kuch jama nahin. Ye film thodi hatkar hai aur tumhare jaisa hi koi composer chhaiye.” Yes, we did sign someone, but it didn’t work out. This is a different kind of film, and we need a composer like you.

“Theek hai. Aisi baat hai to main tayyar hoon.” If that’s the case then I am ready. The composer wants to hide his giddiness. It’s been so long since he has done any meaningful work, and now this opportunity, and that too working with this music mogul.

The composer decides to leave and break the news to his wife quickly. He looks at the front gate of the hotel, and there is quite a big crowd there. That reminds him of the traffic on Juhu Tara Road at this hour. His apartment is just 20 minutes away. But can you even get an auto at this time, and how long will it take him? He looks on the other side. Just a wall and a beach behind. He could just run along the beach. He decides to do that. A quick jump over the wall. He lands on the sand.

The Arabian Sea is spread out before him. The night wind hits his face. He starts walking, almost running, towards home. The title of the film has been bothering him a bit. There will be a need for a title song composition. He assumes. But the word. It has three syllables. Not friendly enough for a melody.

He begins playing in his head. Not a melody yet. Just the word. A single word in a rhythmic form. He says it in different tones. Another part of his brain is playing the dholak or the virtual beats as he mutters the word. Slowly, the melody starts taking shape. He is humming now, loudly, not caring who hears him on this empty beach. He is composing a song while running on the beach for a film story he has not yet read, for an actor and actress he has barely met.

He reaches home. His wife opens the door. Before she can speak, he says, “Ek nayi film mili hai.” I just got a new film.

He can’t even look at her straight, his eyes hunting for the harmonium. Finally, he sees it. The maid must have moved it from its regular spot while cleaning. He sits down and begins to play.

A few days later, the composer sits across from the producer and the duo-directors. He plays them the composition. The same melody that came to him on the beach.

The two directors exchange a look. The kind of look that passes between two people who have been working together long enough to speak without words. The producer says nothing for a moment. And then he smiles. He knows he did the right thing.

39th Filmfare Awards, 1994

The applause dies down. The composer looks content. He is on top of the world.

Anu Malik composed the song Baazigar O Baazigar and the rest of the songs for the film Baazigar. The film was produced by Ratan Jain and directed by Abbas-Mustan. The lyrics were penned by Nawab Arzoo. The playback was provided by Alka Yagnik and Kumar Sanu. The song was picturized on Shah Rukh Khan and Kajol.

Deepak Tijori initially proposed to Abbas-Mustan to make a Hindi remake of the English film A Kiss Before Dying. He had hopes that they would cast him, but Abbas-Mustan had other ideas. Abbas-Mustan went to every big hero of the time - Aamir Khan, Salman Khan, and Akshay Kumar, but all said no. They couldn’t risk their hero or romantic images. They narrated the story to Shah Rukh Khan and expected him to come back after a few days, but he agreed immediately.

Initially, Nadeem-Shravan were brought in as the composer after their big hits with Ashiqui, Saajan, and Dil Hai Ke Maanta Nahin. But they had an issue about doing this film with Kajol due to some prior differences. Abbas-Mustan had already decided on Kajol, so instead they decided to replace the composer. This is where Ratan Jain, one of the founders of Venus Music, who was also the producer of the film, reached out to Anu Malik.

Anu Malik’s career was going up and down like a roller coaster, and at that point was at its lowest point. He was struggling to get films as a composer due to the popularity of the new style of music that Nadeem-Shravan and Anand-Milind were able to deliver.

The mukhda of the song Baazigar O Baazigar was composed while Anu Malik was walking back home through the beach route. He had an issue with the word Baazigar since it was hard to use as a word in a melodies but managed to come up with a composition that enthralled both Abbas-Mustan and Ratan Jain.

Anu Malik won his first Filmfare Award for Best Music Director for Baazigar.

This is Alka Yagnik and Kumar Sanu singing the song in a live concert.

Lyrics: Nawaab Arzoo
Music: Anu Malik
*ing: Shah Rukh Khan, Kajol
Singers: Alka Yagnik, Kumar Sanu
Director: Abbas-Mustan
Producer: Ratan Jain
Film: Baazigar (1993)

With such a stellar and massive starcast on board, the pressure starts to build with every passing day of the film’s planning. The word has spread that this might be the biggest star cast ever assembled. A casting coup of sorts. And how did the young filmmaker pull this off?

As the music is being discussed, the music composer duo start to wonder how will they pull off some of the songs, which practically have every leading actor and actress singing. The lyricist is also in a quandary. How will he write for such a generationally and demographically diverse group of characters all singing a few lines in the song?

The filmmaker has no time to waste. Either you are delivering what he wants or you are out. For a young filmmaker, this takes guts. He sees the hesitation in the music department, and makes changes. The music composer duo is still on board to compose a few songs. But he brings in new composers to do a song or two.

Meanwhile, the biggest superstar invites the lyricist for a meeting.

“Bhaiya, ek kaam kariye, ye gaana jo hai na, aap solo likh dijiye,” he instructs the lyricist. Brother, do one thing, this song, you write it as a solo.

It is a simple, polite request. But coming from the biggest superstar, the lyricist knows it is more than a simple request.

The lyricist is confused. The brief he has gotten from the filmmaker is quite different. He shares his understanding of the song.

“Arre dada, lekin ismein to usne bola ki itne log gayenge,” the lyricist replies. But sir, he has told me that there will be many people singing in this song.

The superstar dismisses the lyricist’s response.

“Arre nahin nahin. Us sasure ko mein theek karta hoon. Aap solo likh dijiye. Mein usko convince karunga.” The superstar insists. Oh no no. I will set him straight (referring to the filmmaker). You write it as a solo. I will convince him.

The lyricist is left with no choice but to agree.

“Theek hai, sir, “ he replies. Yes, sir.

The lyricist comes back home, and over the next day or two, he writes the song as a solo song for the superstar.

Everyone gets together for the music sitting, the lyricist, the superstar, the filmmaker, and the new music composer.

The composer starts playing the tune that he has composed for the song. The lyricist narrates the lyrics to the tune. The filmmaker is confused. This is supposed to be a multi-starrer song, with two superstars, two heroines. When and how did this turn into a solo song? He turns to the lyricist and asks:

“Sahab ye kya hai? Maine aap ko bola is gaane mein kaun kaun hai aur sab gayenge.” Sir what is this? I have told you who all are in this song and they’re all singing.

The lyricist looks at the veteran superstar. He is quiet. The lyricist wonders why isn’t the superstar saying something and trying to convince the filmmaker as he had promised.

The lyricist decides to spill the beans. He gives an honest answer to the filmmaker.

“Dada ne bola ki ismein inko solo gaana karna hai.” Sir said that he would like to have this as a solo song.

The filmmaker realizes where this is coming from. He laughs as he looks at the superstar. He turns to the superstar and says:

“Uncle, aap ko pataa hai na is picture mein aap ka role kya hai?” Uncle, you do know what your role is in this film, right?

The superstar assures the filmmaker:

“Janab, kya baat kar rahe ho. Mujhe bilkul pataa hai.” Sir, what are you saying? I know very well.

The filmmaker now tries to convince the superstar why this should not be a solo song.

“Uncle, mein aap ko ek visual deta hoon. Agar aap mujhe convince kar do, to mein yeh gaana solo kar doonga.” Uncle, let me give you a visual. If you convince me, I will make this song as your solo.

The superstar is ready to listen to the filmmaker.

“Bol, kya hai?” Tell me, what is it?

The filmmaker weaves his narrative.

“Uncle, aap ka ismein role hai, you are a tycoon. Itna bada businessman hai. Itna rich aadmi hai. Aap imagine kariye ki Dhirubhai Ambani ne ek party di hai. Usmein Bajaj bhi aaye hain. Tata bhi aaye. Saari duniya aayi hai. Aur pataa chala Dhirubhai Ambani beech mein khade hoke naach rahe hain aur sab log dekh rahe hain. Kaisa lagega visually?” Uncle, your role in this (film), you are a tycoon. Such a big businessman. Such a rich man. Now imagine that Dhirubhai Ambani is hosting a party. The Bajajs have come. The Tatas have come. The whole world has come. And you find out Dhirubhai Ambani is standing in the center and dancing and everyone is watching. How will it look visually?

The superstar sees the point. He replies:

“Haan yaar, kuch ajeeb lag raha hai.” Yes, my friend, it feels a bit strange.

Turning to the lyricist, the superstar says:

“Panditji, ek kaam kariye, solo ko hataiye. Ye jo bol raha hai vaisa hi kariye.” Sir, do one thing, remove the solo. Do it as he wants.

The lyricist is happy to have the dilemma resolved, but realizes he now has to rewrite the whole song, and this time write for every character that’s going to be singing in it.

He admires the filmmaker’s conviction. This young man knows exactly what he wants in his film and it doesn’t matter who is sitting across from him. The lyricist decides from then on to not listen to anybody and just follow the filmmaker’s conviction for all the songs in the film.

Sameer wrote the lyrics of Say Shava Shava in Karan Johar’s Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (2001), music by Aadesh Shrivastava. Sameer wrote the lyrics of all the songs, except for Suraj Hua Maddham, which was written by Anil Pandey.

K3G was Karan Johar’s second directorial venture after the resounding success of Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. He retained the same team, but also added Amitabh Bachchan, Jaya Bachchan, Hrithik Roshan and Kareena Kapoor, in addition to the existing star cast of Shah Rukh Khan, Kajol and Rani Mukerji.

Jatin-Lalit composed the music for the film, including the title song, Bole Chudiyan, and Yeh Ladka Hai Allah. Sandesh Shandilya composed the songs Suraj Hua Maddham, You Are My Sonia, Deewana Hai Dekho, and Soul of K3G.

K3G was the most expensive film of that time, made at a budget of 300-400 million Rupees. It became one of the highest grossing films of Hindi cinema, with Karan Johar and the film receiving a lot of praise for it’s production values and performances. The music of the film was also very popular and much appreciated.

The film won Filmfare Awards for Best Actress (Kajol), Best Supporting Actress (Jaya Bachchan), Best Scene of the Year, Best Dialogue (Karan Johar), Best Art Direction (Sharmishta Roy), and a host of nominations.

Amitabh Bachchan, Shah Rukh Khan, Rani Mukerji performing this song live in concert:

Lyrics: Sameer
Music: Aadesh Srivastava
*ing: Amitabh Bachchan, Shah Rukh Khan, Rani Mukerji, Kajol
Singers: Amitabh Bachchan, Sudesh Bhonsle, Udit Narayan, Sunidhi Chauhan, Alka Yagnik, Aadesh Srivastava
Director: Karan Johar
Film: Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham (2001)

He immediately invites the lyricist to come and see the footage. They both worked very hard on these lyrics, even including the filmmaker’s favorite word for “beloved.” Very uncommon word.

“Dekhiye yeh scene kitna kamaal ka shoot hua hai,” the filmmaker says with a smile. Look at how wonderfully this scene has turned out.

The lyricist watches the screen and listens to the voice coming through the speakers. It’s his words after all. The filmmaker is expecting him to jump up in joy. But the lyricist’s expression is serious.

“Gaana achha hai, lekin ek bahut badi problem hai,” the lyricist remarks. The song is good, but there is a very big problem.

The filmmaker is surprised. “Kya problem hai?” What is the problem?

The lyricist points to the screen. “Sukhwinder Singh isi film mein ek doosre actor ke liye ga chuke hain. Agar woh yahan lead actor ke liye gayenge, toh audience confuse ho jayegi.” Sukhwinder Singh has already sung for another actor in this same film. If he sings for the lead actor here, the audience will get confused.

The filmmaker realizes the mistake. It is true. A singer’s voice is the identity of a character. He agrees that they need a change.

He reaches out to the composer and explains the situation.

“Humein koi doosri awaaz chahiye is gaane ke liye,” the filmmaker tells the composer. We need another voice for this song.

The composer understands. A few days later, he calls the filmmaker to the studio. He has recorded the song with several different singers to find the perfect match. The filmmaker listens to every version carefully. He likes the singers, but something is missing.

“Sab ne theek hi gaya hai. Aur mere pasandida labz mein woh mazaa nahi aa rahi,” the filmmaker says, feeling a bit disappointed. Everyone has sung ok. Also, that special feeling is missing in my favorite word.

The composer thinks for a moment. He has one last idea. “Mere paas ek aur singer hai. Woh classical music jaanta hai, lekin uski awaaz bahut naazuk hai.” I have one more singer. He knows classical music, but there is a lot of softness in his voice.

The composer brings in the new singer. He records the song one last time for the filmmaker.

When the filmmaker hears the new recording, his eyes light up. The new singer breathes life into the melody. “Iski awaaz to bahut roohani hai.” the filmmaker says happily. His voice is very divine.

The composer feels good about what he has been able to achieve. “Magar ek cheez hai.” But there is one thing. The filmmaker still has one question. “Ye singer bhi woh labz theek se keh nahin paaya.” Even this singer couldn’t get that word right.

The composer is technically astute. “Ek kaam karte hain. Mein pichli recording se woh labz nikaal kar iss mein daal doonga.” Let’s do one thing. I can take the word from the previous recording and merge it with this one. The filmmaker has no idea what the composer just said, but he is happy when he hears the final recording.

Hariharan and Sukhwinder Singh sang the song Nahi Saamne Tu in the film Taal. The song was written by Anand Bakshi and composed by AR Rahman. Taal was produced and directed by Subhash Ghai. The song was picturized on Akshaye Khanna and Aishwarya Rai.

Subhash Ghai and Anand Bakshi worked on the lyrics of the song, but Subhash Ghai was the one who proposed the word “Priyesi” to be sung in an alaap style in the song. AR Rahman recorded the song in Sukhwinder Singh’s voice, unaware that he just recorded Ramta Jogi for the same movie, but as a playback for Anil Kapoor. Anand Bakshi was aware of this and was very particular about the overall context in the film. When he found out, he told Subhash Ghai that this would not work and that they needed a different singer.

AR Rahman went back and tried 5-6 other singers and had them record the song with the Priyesi alaap. But none of them impressed Subhash Ghai. Finally, AR Rahman decided to use Hariharan since he was a classical singer with a soft voice. Subhash Ghai loved his tonal quality for the song, but nobody came close to Sukhwinder’s rendition of Priyesi. Rahman, being a technical composer, decided to splice Sukhwinder’s part from the previous recording and merge it with Hariharan’s version of the song.

Subhash Ghai has claimed publicly that Nahin Saaamne Tu is his favorite song ever. Taal did well at the Filmfare Awards. AR Rahman won Best Music Director, Anand Bakshi won Best Lyricist for Ishq Bina, and Sukhwinder Singh got nominated for Best Male Playback Singer for Ramta Jogi.

Here is Hariharan singing this song at a concert.

Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Music: AR Rahman
Singers: Hariharan, Sukhwinder Singh
*ing: Akshaye Khanna, Aishwarya Rai
Producer/Director: Subhash Ghai
Film: Taal (1999)

He finds him living in a state of poverty in Patna. That’s not fair. How can someone like him be treated like this? Without hesitation, the lead actor brings him to Bombay to serve as an advisor for the film. They both work on the story together.

With the story finally ready, he approaches the filmmaker, an old friend of the lead actor. The lead actor says to the filmmaker, “Yeh kahani mere dil ke bahut kareeb hai. Saari duniya ko iske baare mein pata chalna chhaiye.” This story is very close to my heart. The entire world needs to know about it.

The filmmaker reads the script and is impressed. It is a no-brainer for him. He decides to produce the film.

As they begin discussing the cast, the conversation quickly turns to the music. The filmmaker is fond of the popular composers of the era. He suggests the biggest names in the industry. “Sangeet ke liye Shankar-Jaikishan, Ravi ya OP Nayyar ko lete hain. Film pakka hit hogi,” For the music, let’s take Shankar-Jaikishan, Ravi, or OP Nayyar. The film will definitely be a hit, the filmmaker suggests.

The lead actor has other ideas. He has a specific person in mind. He has heard his music in the past, especially the patriotic songs. He brings up his name instead of the other popular composers.

The filmmaker is taken aback. He didn’t even know this guy as a composer. “Woh? Woh to ek geetkar hai. Woh sangeet kaise de sakta hai?” That guy? That guy is a lyricist. How can he compose the music?

The lead actor corrects him. “Mein maanta hoon usne gaane zyaada likhen hai aur sangeet kum diya hai par iss film ka sangeet wohi de sakta hai.” I know that even though he has written more songs than he has composed, his music is exactly what the film needs.

“Theek hai. Usse kuch gaane compose karwa lenge.” Thats fine. We will have a few songs composed by him. The filmmaker is ready to compromise.

“Saaare gaane wohi compose karega. Warna mein ye film nahin karoonga.” He will compose all the songs. Else I am not doing this film. The lead actor lays it out firmly.

Realizing his friend will neither act nor write the film, the filmmaker agrees.

Together, they go to the house of the composer.

“Hum ek krantikari par film bana rahe hain aur aapko geet likhne hain.” We are making a film on a revolutionary, and you have to write the songs. The lead actor tells him.

“Zaroor, yeh toh mera saubhagya hai,” Sure, this is my good fortune, the composer replies, assuming he is only being hired for his lyrics.

But the lead actor smiles and corrects him. “Aap sirf geet nahi likhenge, aap sangeet bhi denge.” You will not just write the songs, you will also give the music.

The composer panics a bit at the sudden responsibility of handling the entire soundtrack. “Mujhe iss baare mein thoda sochna padega,” I will have to think a little about this, he says hesitantly.

The lead actor looks him in the eye, knowing this is the only way to capture the soul of the revolution. “Agar aap sangeet nahi doge, hum yeh film nahi banayenge.” If you don’t compose the music, we won’t make this film.

With that weight on his shoulders, the composer agrees.

The composer sits before his harmonium, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He is struggling with the most crucial part of the film: the climax, where the three revolutionaries are led to the gallows. He wants the music to capture the gravity of the moment, but he is afraid of making it too mournful.

“Main is dukh ki ghadi ko sangeet mein kaise dikhaun? How do I show this sadness in the music? the composer says, looking troubled.

He turns to the advisor, the man who lived through those days. The advisor slowly closes his eyes, transporting himself back to the cold stone walls of the jail. A faint smile plays on his lips as the memory returns.

“Wahan dukh nahi thha,” the advisor whispers. “Jab woh phansi ki taraf badh rahe thhe, toh unke chehron par sirf khushi thhi.” There was no sadness there. When they were moving towards the gallows, there was only happiness on their faces.

The lead actor and the composer lean in, trying to grasp every word he mutters. The advisor continues, describing how the three friends walked with their heads held high, chanting a poem that compared their sacrifice to their wedding with death.

The imagery strikes the composer, and he realizes that the song shouldn’t be a funeral march, but a victory anthem.

Prem Dhawan composed the music and wrote the lyrics for all the songs in the film Shaheed (1965), including the patriotic song O Mera Rang De Basanti Chola. Manoj Kumar was the lead actor and also one of the story writers of the film. The playback for the song was provided by Mukesh, Mahendra Kapoor, and Rajendra Mehta. The song was picturized on Manoj Kumar, Prem Chopra, and Anant Marathe. Kewal Kashyap was the producer of the film.

Manoj Kumar was deeply fascinated by the life of Bhagat Singh, but he didn’t want to rely on plain textbook accounts. He felt a responsibility to capture the true story and tell it to the entire world. To do this, he knew he needed a firsthand witness. That’s the reason he reached out to Batukeshwar Dutt, Bhagat Singh’s close comrade and the man who stood beside him during the Central Assembly bombing. Once he found him in Patna, he convinced him to come to Bombay as an advisor to the film. It took Manoj Kumar four years to do all the research before he decided it could be made into a film.

He reached out to his close friend, Kewal Kashyap, to produce it, who readily agreed to do it. For the composer selection, Kewal Kashyap wanted to go with the mainstream composers of the time to derisk the film and increase the chances of a hit just based on music. Manoj Kumar wanted someone who had dealt with patriotic songs and also served as a freedom fighter. Prem Dhawan fit the bill on all those points. Prem Dhawan was and is probably the only lyricist, composer, and choreographer all packaged in one person. After a big argument, Kewal Kashyap agreed to take Prem Dhawan.

Being the same person who wrote and composed the songs, Prem Dhawan could iterate very fast on different suggestions that he got from Batukeshwar Dutt and Manoj Kumar. He also used words from poetry that Bhagat Singh, Rajguru, and Sukhdev used while they were in jail. The climax moment in the film is when all three are being led to the gallows. Only Batukeshwar Dutt knew how three of them felt as they walked towards their death. Prem Dhawan took his feedback and wrote a timeless anthem.

At the 13th National Film Awards, Shaheed was the most celebrated film, sweeping three major awards. Kewal Kashyap received the award for the Best Feature Film in Hindi. The award for Best Screenplay was shared by Din Dayal Sharma and Batukeshwar Dutt. While they were the credited writers in the film, this award was a huge personal victory for Manoj Kumar, who had done the bulk of the research and writing. He refused to put his name out as one of the writers. Prem Dhawan did not win any awards for Shaheed but was honored with the Padma Shri in 1970 for his immense contribution to patriotic music.

This is the slow version of the song.

Lyrics: Prem Dhawan
Music: Prem Dhawan
Singers: Mukesh, Mahendra Kapoor, Rajendra Mehta
*ing: Manoj Kumar, Prem Chopra, Anant Marathe
Producer: Kewal Kashyap
Film: Shaheed (1965)

The composition creates the atmosphere before the melody. The start of the song is a steady, almost lazy blues rhythm that refuses to hurry. The restraint carries an undercurrent of anticipation.

The filmmaker has explained the song situation in detail. It is a song in a bar and is performed by the resident singer/dancer at an upscale restaurant. The song starts with a few couples grooving slowly to the music. The clock strikes midnight. The dance floor is cleared. The dancer slowly gets up from her barstool, too inebriated to find her footing, but as the music picks up she finds her groove.

The lyricist is quietly observing the proceedings. The female singer and the composer are in a conversation. She is registering a complaint, “Aap aise gaane mujhe hi kyon dete ho? Didi ko kyon nahin dete?” Why do you give me such songs? Why don’t you give Didi (elder sister) such songs?

The composer is busy. He notes her faux complaint, and replies, “Aap jaanti nahin hain iss gaane ka kya hone wala hai.” You don’t know what is going to happen with this song.

The singer is not convinced. She mutters, as if speaking with herself, “Kya hone wala hai? Kuchh nahin hone wala hai. Koi nahin bataa saktaa.” What is going to happen? Nothing is going to happen. No one can predict.

The composer calls for another rehearsal. He is vocalizing the undercurrent of anticipation and tension himself with exhalations, sighs and breath. It blurs the line between rhythm and intimacy. The sounds are not just ornamental. They set the emotional temperature of the song, longing stretched to the point of aching. Breath becomes timekeeping beats, and mood-setting provocation all at once. The song feels less like a performance and more like an atmosphere.

The singer is in her element. The musical arrangement is deliberately designed to not overpower her vocals.

The lyricist is quietly watching everything. But somewhere deep down he is unsettled. He has had a complicated, often uneasy relationship with authority. His words have repeatedly brought him into conflict with the system. He had been jailed for refusing to dilute his verses. Even in his extensive career in Hindi cinema, the pressure to change words had never really gone away. He had complied at times, but not without inner resistance. Each forced change is a small negotiation with power.

But today the unease is different. He believes words are not just strung together to create phrases, but they come together to create consequences, be they political, cultural or personal. Today he is struggling with the personal consequences of his words. Today he is negotiating with the power of conscience within.

Even amidst the music in the studio, his mind takes him back to an early mushaira, a formal gathering of poets rooted in the Urdu-Persian tradition where poetry is recited. He had recited a verse that had come to him from deep within his heart, and other poets at the mushaira had insisted that he change one word. He had given in. A single word had radically altered the emotional tone of the verse.

A lot of thoughts rush to him. Finally he makes up his mind. The rehearsals are complete. The composer is calling for a take. The female singer is about to enter the singer’s booth. He must do something. Now. Before it is too late.

He walks up to the singer with folded hands, “Beta, mein jaa raha hoon.” Child, I am leaving.

She is confused, unsure why he is saying this. He has always been there at the recordings of all his songs.

He continues, “Beta, maine bada ganda gaana likha hai.” Child, I have written a very vulgar song.

She stays silent. He continues, glancing towards the filmmaker, “Aur woh nahin maanega. Labz badalne nahin dega.” He won’t listen. He won’t let me change the words.

She asks, “Lekin gaana to ab ban gaya hai. Aap kyon jaa rahe hain?” But the song is now complete. Why are you leaving?

He explains, “Meri do betiyan hain. Badi hokar woh ye gaana gayengi to mujhe kaisa lagega?” I have two daughters. When they grow up and sing this song, how will I feel?

She understands, and nods, as she says, “Lekin mujhe to abhi gaana padega.” But I will have to sing it.

The lyricist leaves the studio before the song is recorded.

Majrooh Sultanpuri wrote the lyrics of the hit song Piya Tu Ab To Aaja from Caravan (1971), directed by Nasir Hussain, with music by RD Burman and playback by Asha Bhosle and RD Burman. The song is filmed on Helen.

Piya Tu Ab To Aaja is an iconic song that is widely regarded as one of the quintessential cabaret songs of Hindi cinema. It is a highly suggestive song with Asha Bhosle and RD Burman creating an emotionally charged atmosphere with their vocals.

Majrooh Sultanpuri left the song before it was recorded in the take. He could not bring himself to accept that he had written this song, and he felt that it was too late to do anything about it.

Early in his life at a mushaira, he had penned the verse:

Main akela hi chala tha jaanib-e-manzil magar
Gair saath aate gaye aur caravan banta gaya

The other poets insisted he change the word “Gair” to “Log” and that’s what the last line became famous as: Log saath aate gaye aur caravan banta gaya

The original line with the word “Gair” conveys the poet to be a loner by choice. After changing the word to “Log”, it becomes more positive.

Asha Bhosle won the Filmfare Award for Best Female Playback Singer for this song. RD Burman was nominated for Best Music Director award for the film, and Aruna Irani was nominated for Best Supporting Actress.

Listen to Asha ji performing this song live with Govinda providing the male vocals:

Asha Bhosle also recorded a new version in 2003 for the Kronos Quartet album, You’ve Stolen My Heart: Songs from RD Burman’s Bollywood.

Listen to the new version:

Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Music: RD Burman
Singers: Asha Bhosle, RD Burman
*ing: Helen
Director: Nasir Hussain
Film: Caravan (1971)

So naturally, the young lyricist thinks how great would it be for him to write a hit number for the superstar, just like his father. But when he is trying to make his mark in the industry as a lyricist, the superstar isn’t very active. He has taken a sabbatical from films, and there are speculations that he has retired.

One day the lyricist picks up the newspaper and reads that the superstar is making a comeback after five years, and the article carries an announcement of his comeback film and the name of the filmmaker. He starts day-dreaming again - how fortunate would he be if somehow he gets this film?

In a few days a duo of music composer brothers calls the lyricist and invites him to write the lyrics for the same film. When you want something with an intense fervor the universe conspires to give it to you. The lyricist is very excited to know that he will be writing lyrics for the biggest superstar.

Separately, in Punjab, in the North of India, a young singer is also day-dreaming. He has just started to make a name for himself in the Bhangra pop genre. His albums have broken records and won him several awards. His stage shows are all the rage. His diary cannot keep up with all the people who want to invite him to sing at events and weddings.

One day the singer’s friend says to him: “Yaar Paaji, Bombay mein kaam kab karenge?” Dear Sir, when will you do work in Bombay?

The singer replies: “Jab Paaji bulayenge to karenge.” When someone big (Sir) calls then we will go.

The friend asks: “Kaun? Dharam Paaji?,” referring to Dharmendra. Who? Dharam sir?

The singer clarifies: “Na. Amitabh Paaji.” No. Amitabh Sir.

The friend laughs. He says: “Yaar Paaji, dimaag kharab ho gaya. Ab ek hi gaana hit hua aur woh phone karenge?” Dear Sir, have you gone mad? Your one song has just now become a hit, and he will call you?

The singer insists: “Woh karenge to hi chalenge”. If he calls only then I will go.

The friend continues to give the singer a hard time: “Paaji woh kyon karenge?” Sir, why will he call?

Meanwhile, back in Bombay, the music sittings start with a lot of excitement for the superstar’s launch film. The superstar is very much involved in the music compositions and attends all the sessions regularly. He wants to leave no stone unturned for his comeback venture.

One day, during a music sitting, the superstar mentions to the team that he has a desire to do a song with a sensational Bhangra pop singer, who he had happened to hear in a wedding. Everyone likes the suggestion.

The superstar immediately takes his phone out and asks his secretary to dial the singer’s number.

The singer picks up the phone. It had been about a month since his conversation with his friend. From the other end, the familiar trademark baritone voice of the superstar booms: “Hello, mein Amitabh Bachchan bol raha hoon.” Hello, I am Amitabh Bachchan speaking.

Hearing the voice, the singer feels like he might faint. He feels the ground slipping beneath him. But he recovers himself, and replies: “Paaji, kabhi aise kisi ko direct mat bola karo ki mein Amitabh Bachchan bol raha hoon.” Sir, please don’t say directly to anyone that I am Amitabh Bachchan speaking.

The singer continues: “Mein hoon isliye sirf chakkar aa gaya oar koi hota to heart attack aa jaata.” Because it is me I only felt like I might faint, someone else might get a heart attack.

The superstar laughs at the singer’s quick humor. He replies: “Ji mein aap ke saath kaam karna chahta hoon. Mera secretary aap se baat karega.” Sir I would like to work with you. My secretary will talk with you.

The secretary takes over the call and says to the singer: “Aap ek kaam karo. Bas kal ki flight leke aa jao Bumbai.” Do one thing. Just get on a flight tomorrow and come to Bombay.

The singer hears the demand and responds: “Yaar maafi chahta hoon, mein kal nahin aa sakta. Teen mahine baad mere paas date hai. Mein tab aaunga.” Friend, I am very sorry, I cannot come tomorrow. I have the next date after three months. I will come then.

There is a pause. The superstar is back on the line. He booms: “Aap kal nahin aa rahe?” Are you not coming tomorrow?

The singer holds his ground: “Maaf karna. Mein aap ko bahot pyar karta hoon. Bachpan se aap ko dekhte aa rahe hain. Lekin Sir, mera na teen mahine bilkul book hoon, roz lagataar.” Please forgive me. I love you very much. I have been watching you since childhood. But Sir, I am completely booked for three months, every day consecutively.

The superstar thinks and says: “Aisa karo apni booking wali diary bhej do, dekhte hain book hai ke nahin.” Why don’t you send your booking diary, we can see if you are booked or not.

The singer agrees: “Theek hai ji.” That’s alright, Sir.

After confirming dates, a date three months later is booked. The singer sees the appointment written down in his diary with a glint in his eye. When you want something with an intense fervor the universe conspires to give it to you.

On the appointed day after three months, the singer walks in with his entourage into the music room of the composers. The lyricist is surprised to see that the singer has come with his secretary, guards, managers. He is used to the superstar’s entourage being present for important meetings. But who is this singer, the lyricist wonders.

Introductions are made. The superstar himself makes the introductions. He introduces the lyricist by name. From the name he thinks this must be some big builder. The singer meets the lyricist with a lot of respect: “Sir aapka to bahot naam suna hai. Jab bhi Bumbai aa jaata hoon to aap ke hi naam ki buildingein dikhti hain.” Sir I have heard your name a lot. Whenever I come to Bombay, I see buildings with your name.

The lyricist clarifies he is not a builder. He is a song writer.

The singer thinks in his mind: “To isse kya milna?” Then why am I meeting him? But he presents a pleasant face and says: “Chalo koi baat nahin, Sir, bahot achha laga.” Ok, not a big deal, Sir, it is a pleasure.

As the music sitting begins, the singer asks: “Chalo ji kya baat karenge? Kaisa wala gaana chahiye aap ko mujhse?” What are we here to discuss? What kind of song do you want me to make?

Before anyone could reply, the superstar takes over, and says to the singer: “Paaji, ye to aap waala dance gaana hai to behtar hoga aap hi bataiye hum kya karein.” Brother, this is certainly going to be your kind of dance number so it’s better that you suggest what we should do.

Suddenly a thought pops into the singer’s mind. He shares: “Paaji, mein chhe mahinon se mere stage shows mein ek cheez gaata hoon. Aur mere dimaag mein ye feel hota hai ki aap gaa rahe ho saath mein.” Sir, for the last six months I sing a phrase on stage, and I get the feeling that you are singing it with me.

The superstar requests him to sing it, to which the singer obliges. The superstar likes it very much.

The singer is happy to see the reaction. He points to the lyricist and says: “Agar ye sahab is line ko gaane mein convert kar dein to hum iska ek dance number bana denge. Mujhe yakeen hai yeh sure-shot hit hoga.” If this Sir can convert this line into a song then we can compose it as a dance number. I’m sure this will be a sure-shot hit.

Everyone is surprised to see the confidence with which the singer utters his statements, unfazed in front of the biggest superstar.

The lyricist requests the singer to sing the line a couple of times. With the singer’s voice in his ears, the lyricist closes his eyes in search of words. He keeps humming. Everyone is quiet. They respect that a process is unfolding. The lyricist opens his eyes and has the complete line on his lips. It is a line that one of his writer friends used to playfully say it to him.

The lyricist shares the line with everyone and says, “Mujhe laga iss line ko Paaji ki line ke saath connect karein to bahot achha lagega.” I thought if I connected this line to Sir’s line, it would sound great.

The lyricist sings both the lines together for everyone. Everybody jumps in excitement and praises the joined couplet. The superstar and the singer both run and hug him. What a moment for the young lyricist!

The composers immediately compose the song on the harmonium. Everyone is very satisfied with the song. It is already sounding like a hit dance number.

The superstar is familiar with a recent hit Bhangra pop number of the singer. He requests the singer, referring to the number: “Paaji jo marji karo, ismein aapka ye gaana hona chahiye. Mujhe aap ke saath usmein act karna hai. Mein uss gaane ka fan hoon. Woh gaana sar chadh ke bol raha hai poore Hindustan pe.” Sir, do what you may, but this song of yours needs to be in our song. I want to act with you on that song. I am a big fan of that song. It is being applauded by the whole of India.

The singer is pleased to hear this and says: “Bilkul fix kar denge Paaji.” We will definitely fix it, Sir.

As the team continues to work on the song in the sitting, everyone notices that the singer’s secretary is very anxious. After every 15-20 minutes, she would come to the singer and whisper something in private. It seemed like a serious conversation.

The superstar cannot hold himself back and asks why she is coming back and forth and interrupting the music session. The superstar’s manager takes the superstar to the side and briefs him: “Paaji producers se iss gaane ke liye 45 lakh ki fees maang rahe hain.” The singer is asking the producers for 45 lakh (4.5 million) rupees as his fees for this song.

The superstar is stunned to hear this big an amount for just one dance number in the film. He is angered by this demand and asks the singer to clarify the reason for his huge fees.

In a no-fuss manner, the superstar explains: “Dekhiye Paaji, aap ko 10-12 karod ki publicity milne waali hai jab log aap ko Amitabh Bachchan ke saath naachte gaate dekhenge. Aap apne manager se kahiye ki un 10-12 karod mein se 45 lakh fees rakh lein aur baki ke mujhe bhej dijiye aap ke saath video mein nachne ke liye. Baat yahin khatm karte hain. Hum kisi aur ko dhoond lenge.” Look Brother, you’re going to get huge publicity worth 10-12 crores of rupees after you are seen in a film singing and dancing with Amitabh Bachchan. Ask your manager to deduct 45 lakh from the 10-12 crores and send the rest of the money to me for appearing with you in the video. Let’s finish the matter here itself. We’ll find someone else.

The music room goes quiet. You could hear a pin drop. The filmmaker holds his head in his hands. The lyricist gets the feeling that this song might not materialize. After all has any creativity survived the egos of big people?

The singer pauses and thinks. He has huge respect for the superstar. He walks up to him with folded hands and says: “Paaji maaf kijiye. Saari baat bhool jaiye. Mein aapke liye ye gaana muft mein karne ke liye tayar hoon, Paaji.” Sir, please forgive me. Let’s forget the whole matter. I’m ready to do the number for you free of cost, Sir.

Fast forward to the shoot of the dance number. Dates are locked in. The day before the filmmaker and the singer meet: “To kal aap 7 baje pahunch jaiye.” So you reach there tomorrow at 7am.

The singer is perplexed, “Mein itni jaldi aa kar kya karunga?” What will I do there so early?

The filmmaker clarifies, “Bachchan sahab pahunch jayenge.” Mr. Bachchan will have already reached.

The singer knows the superstar is known to be very punctual and reaches anywhere earlier than the designated time, come what may.

The singer folds his hands and says: “Paaji, please, unko to neend nahin aati, lekin mujhe to aati hai. 7 baje uth jaunga to mera munh aur sujha hoga. Mein das baje se pehle nahin aa sakta.” Sir, please, he (Mr. Bachchan) doesn’t sleep, but I sleep. If I wake up at 7 my face will be even more swollen. I cannot come before 10am.

They change the call time to 10am to suit the singer.

Someone asks the singer if he will be nervous to shoot with Mr. Bachchan. The singer replies that he has also acquired enough popularity in the world that he is not afraid. In fact, he was feeling very confident to perform with Mr. Bachchan.

The first and the second day’s shoot of the song goes very well. On the third day, the singer is not able to perform a specific step. He is repeatedly making mistakes and swirling himself around when he doesn’t need to.

The superstar asks him, “Kya hua?” What happened?

The singer is sheepish about his mistakes and confesses, “Thodi ghabrahat si ho rahi hai.” I am feeling a little afraid.

The superstar doesn’t understand the reason for this. He asks, “Do din to nikal gaye tab ab kyon ghabrahat ho rahi hai? Mere saath to bahot logon ne kaam kiya hai.” Two days have already gone so why are you feeling afraid now? Many people have worked with me.

The singer continues, “Paaji aap Mount Everest ho. Aap ke saath jinhone kam kiya hai, Shashi Kapoor, Shatrughan Sinha, Rishi Kapoor. Ye Everest ke aas paas ki chotiyan hain. Mein to kuch bhi nahin hoon. Ek singer hoon bas to thodisi ghabrahat ho rahi hai.” Sir you are Mount Everest. And those who have worked with you, Shashi Kapoor, Shatrughan Sinha, Rishi Kapoor. They are the other peaks near Everest. I am nothing. I am just a singer so I am feeling afraid.

The superstar comes up with a solution, “To ek kaam karte hain. Is jagah gaane mein, mein aapka haath pakad loonga. Aur aise step karenge. Jab tak maine aap ka haath pakda hai, tab tak aap ghoomna mat.” So let’s do this. At this point in the song, I will hold your hand. And we will do these dance steps. As long as I am holding your hand, you will not swirl around.

The rest of the song is completed over the next 7 days.

Daler Mehndi performed the song Na Na Na Na Re along with Amitabh Bachchan in the film Mrityudata (1997), produced under the ABCL banner and directed by Mehul Kumar, with lyrics by Sameer, and music by Anand-Milind. Sudesh Bhosle provided the playback vocals for Amitabh Bachchan.

Daler Mehdni became a Bhangra and pop sensation after his first solo album Bolo Ta Ra Ra became a massive hit and sold 20 million copies. He followed that up with his second album Dardi Rab Rab, which surpassed the sales of his first album. Amitabh wanted the song Dardi Rab Rab also to be factored into the film song.

Mrityudata was Amitabh’s comeback film but bombed at the box office. However, the song Na Na Na Na Re became a big hit. People would throw coins at the screen whenever this song would come on. Daler Mehndi was very much applauded for this number.

Sameer was used to write the hook lines for all his songs, however, this one was provided by Daler Mehndi. Sameer then took over and wrote the rest of the lines to everyone’s applause and liking.

At 4:23 in the song you can see Amitabh extending his hand to hold Daler Mehndi’s as they perform the dance steps.

Watch Daler Mehndi’s hit song Dardi Rab Rab:

Watch Daler Mehndi perform this song live:

Watch Sudesh Bhosle perform this song live:

*ing: Amitabh Bachchan, Daler Mehndi
Lyrics: Sameer, Daler Mehndi
Music: Anand-Milind
Singers: Daler Mehndi, Sudesh Bhonsle
Director: Mehul Kumar
Film: Mrityudata (1997)

One of her music teachers happens to walk by. He specializes in playing the Sarangi, but a maestro overall when it comes to music. And next to him is another gentleman.

The teacher stops and points at the singer. “Aao mein tumhe mere kuch students se milata hoon.” Come, let me introduce you to my students. Both of them walk closer to where the girls are sitting.

“Inse miliye. Ye film industry ke bahut bade sangeetkar hain. Aur ye humare NCPA ki students hain aur dono bahut accha gaana gaati hain.” Meet with him. He is a big composer in the film industry. And these are our NCPA students, and both of them sing very well. The teacher drives the introductions.

The girls almost blush at hearing this. Of course, they know him. He is one of the great composers in the industry. The composer is eager to hear a singing voice.

The composer turns to the singer. “Kuch sunaiye aap.” Sing something.

She sings a few lines. Her voice is plain, deep, and carries a strange kind of sadness. The composer doesn’t say much, just nods and leaves.

A few months later, the singer is at her desk at the radio station when the phone rings. It’s the same composer on the other side. He wants her to come and see him at the music studio.

When she arrives, she sees the composer is sitting with another gentleman. He is introduced as the filmmaker. They are both working on his upcoming film. The film is about a man struggling to survive as a taxi driver in the bustle of Bombay, and his wife is left behind in their quiet village to endure a long and lonely wait.

“Ek gaana hai jisme humein gaon ki khamoshi chahiye. Ye gaana sheher ke shor ko pukaar raha hai.“ This song is about the quietness of the village. This song is speaking to the noise of the city. The filmmaker sets the context of the song.

The composer goes through the song for the singer on his harmonium. The music is thin and delicate, while the vocals are front and center. The singer is really excited since this song will position her voice and tonal quality. But she needs work. They all agree to a schedule. Every day, the filmmaker will drive to the singer’s house, pick her up, and take her to the studio for rehearsals.

The rehearsals begin. The initial meetings are quite difficult. The lyrics have been written by a poet from Hyderabad who is a Marxist revolutionary. There are hardcore Urdu words used in the song that the composer has issues with. He took it up himself with the lyricist, but how do you argue with an idealist who does not write for money. He refuses to change even a single word.

The singer, though born in Bombay, comes from a traditional Bengali family. Urdu words are not something she has learnt to speak. She has come across a few of them in film songs. A few Urdu words have a heavy sound that requires the singer to blow air out of her mouth using her tongue or with her lips. Every time that happens, the microphone makes a loud thumping sound. This happens a few times. The entire music crew watching this is confused. They are not used to this.

The composer is also frustrated but stays patient. “Makhdoom saheb ke alfaaz bahut wazandar hain, inhein badla nahi ja sakta.” Makhdoom saheb’s words are heavy and cannot be changed. He says, shaking his head.

The composer comes up with a plan. He stands next to the singer and shows her how to move. “Jab yeh bhari alfaaz aayein, toh mic se thoda peeche hatt jaana,” When these heavy words come, just move back from the mic a little, he tells her.

She practices this over several days, leaning in for the soft parts and swaying away whenever the heavy air needs to escape her lips. It felt more like a dance than a recording.

Finally, it is the day of the recording. The studio is small and crowded. In the corner sits the lead actress.

When the singer finishes, the room is completely still. The lead actress gets up from her chair. Her eyes are wet. She walks straight to the singer and wraps her in a big hug.

“Aapne kitne acche expression ke saath gaaya hai!” You have sung this with such incredible expression! The lead actress says to her, holding her shoulders. The singer offers a light smile.

Chhaya Ganguly sang her debut song Aap ki Yaad Aati Rahi for the film Gaman (1978). The song is composed by Jaidev, and the lyrics are written by Makhdoom Mohiuddin. The film is produced and directed by Muzaffar Ali. In the film, the song plays in the background and is filmed on Farooq Shaikh and Smita Patil.

Chhaya Ganguly got her break for the film Gaman while she was at NCPA (National Centre for the Performing Arts). She joined there after finishing college and also worked at All India Radio. She was good friends with Kavita Krishnamurthy over at the NCPA. That’s where their teacher, Pandit Ram Narayan, introduced her to his friend, Jaidev. On hearing her voice, Jaidev knew that her tonal quality would really fit the song that he had recently composed for Gaman.

The song lyrics are part of an earlier collection that Makhdoom Mohiuddin had published in 1966. The collection is very well received and is popular in the Urdu circles. Makhdoom was a Marxist idealist and had also received the Sahitya Akademi award for this collection. He was adamant and refused to change even a single word to tone down the use of Urdu words that are not suitable for playback. No amount of money could persuade him to change his poetry.

The lyrics had several words that had the “Pa”, “Pha”, or “Tha” sounds that require the speaker to blow air as they are pronounced. For example, “thar tharathi rahi” in the song. Chhaya had a lot of problems initially due to lack of playback experience. Jaidev taught her to manage the distance from the mic to minimize the sound made by the released breath.

Smita Patil, the film’s lead actress, was there during the recording of the song. She was very pleased to hear Chhaya’s voice and showered her with compliments.

Chhaya Ganguly won the National Film Award for Best Female Playback Singer and was nominated for the Filmfare Award for Best Female Playback Singer. Jaidev won the National Film Award for Best Music Director, and Muzaffar Ali won the National Film Award – Special Mention (feature film) for Gaman.

Chhaya Ganguly’s career did not progress further despite winning the National Award for her debut song. After a long break, she returned in 1990 and sang the title track for Amol Palekar’s film Thodasa Roomani Ho Jayen. During this time, she went back to her full-time job at All India Radio and retired in 2012.

This is Chhaya Ganguly singing the song in a live performance.

Singer: Chhaya Ganguly
Music: Jaidev
Lyrics: Makhdoom Mohiuddin
*ing: Farooq Shaikh, Smita Patil
Director: Muzaffar Ali
Film: Gaman (1978)

A 17 year old boy from Benares has come to Mumbai to take part in this competition. He plays the flute, and has been learning under the guidance of his father, a homeopathic doctor, oil painter, and amateur flautist who has taken lessons from the esteemed Pandit Pannalal Ghosh.

Youth is a funny thing. It does not fear failure. You do not play to arrive somewhere, but play because the breath must move somewhere to bring the notes that have been playing within you long before they find their way out. Effort is pure, innocent. Applause is just incidental. Somewhere along the way mastery arrives quietly, almost surprised to find you were never trying to claim it. It does not care if you are old enough to bear its weight.

The 17 year old flautist wins the first prize as an instrumentalist in the All India Radio music competition. A noted film music composer is one of the judges. He tells somebody, “Arre woh ladka jo bajaya hai usko jara bulao mere paas.” That boy who just played, call him to me.

The young boy presents himself before the composer. The composer asks, “Arre kabhi film mein bajaya?” Have you ever played in films?

“Nahin,” the young boy answers. No.

“Kal Radio James Studio mein aa jaa,” the composer instructs. Come tomorrow to Radio James Studio.

“Mere paas sab bansuri nahin hai,” the boy looks down at the composer’s feet and answers. I don’t have all the flutes.

“Woh sab theek ho jayega,” the composer assures. All that will be taken care of.

The young boy does as asked, and shows up the next day at Radio James Studio. He is asked to play a flute piece for a song that is being worked on. It is an extremely difficult piece. To play flute in film music you need to have 24 flutes. He doesn’t have the money to even buy so many. He is given three flutes to play.

He says a silent prayer in his mind, changes the scale and makes a personal best effort.

The notes from the instrument reach the ears of the lead singer. He turns around to see who is playing, and is speechless to see a 17 year old wisp of a boy playing magic.

He says to the boy in Bangla, “Kōthāẏa thākēna?” Where do you stay?

The boy responds, “Āmi ēkajanēra rānnāgharē pēẏiṁ gēsṭa hisēbē thāki, śudhu sēkhānē’i ghumā’i.” I stay as a paying guest in someone’s kitchen, just sleep there.

The singer cannot contain his excitement at discovering magical talent. “Pancham ke liye tujhe bajana padega.” You will have to play for Pancham.

Another musician, affectionately known in the industry as “Dukhi Babu”, has also taken note of the young boy and heard the words of the singer. He also hails from Calcutta and is a distinguished musician and composer from the esteemed Tagore family. He plays rare instruments like the Dilruba, Taar Shehnai and has played with the stalwarts from Satyajit Ray to SD Burman. The boy, of course, knows none of this.

Dukhi Babu approaches the young boy. He is overcome with affection. He tells the young boy, “Mera beta mujhe theek se dekhbhaal nahin karta. Mein ek hotel mein rahta hoon.” My son does not look after me well. I stay in a hotel.

“Tum kal aao mere paas. Pancham ke wahan le jaoonga,” Dukhi Babu continues. You come to me tomorrow. I will take you to Pancham.

The boy, of course, knows Pancham. Who doesn’t know Pancham?

Dukhi Babu keeps going, “Kya bajaya aaj. Pancham ko bansuri player ki zaroorat hai.” What you have played today. Pancham needs a bansuri player.

The young boy looks at Dukhi Babu’s feet as he continues to listen. Dukhi Babu shares more, “Hariprasad Chaurasia to abhi LP ke wahan bajate hain. Unke paas itna time nahin hai. Ek aur genius dena hai Pancham ko jo Hariprasad ji ka jagah le sake.” Hariprasad Chaurasia is now playing with LP. He doesn’t have much time now. We have to find another genius for Pancham who can take the place of Hariprasad ji.

Youth is a funny thing. It doesn’t get shocked or awed. It listens without shrinking. It meets legends as people, not pedestals. Praise just passes through it, just noticed, not held on to. Comparisons don’t make a dent, because becoming has not yet ossified into being. Youth simply shows up, unburdened by the weight of who came before or the impossible task of replacing them. It is only when we get older that we tremble simply by hearing names. Youth is a funny thing.

The next day the young boy meets Dukhi Babu at Mansoravar Hotel near Bandra. Together they go to Film Center, Pancham’s studio in Tardeo.

Stepping inside Film Center, the boy just takes in the scene. He has never seen anything like this before. Pancham’s orchestra is a sight to behold - 60 to 70 violins, 10 to 15 violas, 4 to 5 cellos, double bass, guitars, synthesizers, percussion, drums, tablas, flute section.

Seeing this massive set up, the young boy is unnerved and is overcome with fear. Where has he come? He glances around, and as if that ensemble was not overwhelming enough, he sees the divine voice Herself sitting behind the glass door, with a piece of paper in hand, memorizing the lyrics of a song. Where has he come?

Dukhi Babu beckons Pancham to come to him. “Aye Pancham, dekh, leke aaya hoon tere liye genius.” Hey Pancham, see, I have brought you a genius.

The young boy looks at Dukhi Babu with a renewed sense of wonder. Who is this man, who hails Pancham as if they are pals, without the customary “ji” that is reserved for someone elder or someone worthy of being accorded respect? He must also be someone big, the boy thinks.

Dukhi Babu looks at the boy and realizes what’s going on his mind. He reveals, “Yeh to mera beta hai Pancham. Iska baap ka shaadi maine karvaya hai.” Pancham is like my son. I have arranged the marriage of his father.

The boy is numbed. This man, Dukhi Babu, has arranged the marriage of the esteemed Sachin Dev Burman, Pancham’s father?! Where has he come?

Pancham joins Dukhi Babu and the young boy. He looks the boy up and down. He knows if Dukhi Babu hails this young lad as a genius, there must be something.

He asks the boy three questions.

“Tumne kabhi background music bajaya?” Have you ever played background music?

“Nahin,” the boy replies. No.

“Music notation likhne aata hai? Likh sakte ho?” Do you know to write music notation? Can you write?

“Haan,” the boy replies. Yes.

“Tumko Raag Khamaaj aata hai?” Do you know Raag Khamaaj?

“Haan,” the boy replies. Yes.

“Bajaa ke sunao,” Pancham commands. Let me hear it.

The boy picks up his flute, closes his eyes, and plays the alaap of Pancham’s song Kuchh To Log Kahenge.

After playing, he opens his eyes, and looks up at Pancham.

Pancham has tears welling up in his eyes. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he keeps staring at the boy. A long second passes with no one saying anything. The boy looks down at Pancham’s feet. Without moving his gaze from the boy, Pancham asks, “Dukhi Da, kahan se leke aaye ye heera?” Dukhi Da, from where did you bring this diamond?

Pancham continues to the young boy, “Abhi ek gaana record ho raha hai yahan. Uske shuru ka piece tu baja.” Now a song is going to be recorded here. You play the piece in the beginning of the song.

After the recording it doesn’t take long for word of mouth to spread in the industry, “Industry mein ek naya ladka aaya hai. Usne ye piece bajaya hai.” A new boy has come into the industry. He has played this piece.

A 17 year old Pandit Ronu Majumdar played the opening flute piece in the song, Yaad Aa Rahi Hai, in the film, Love Story (1981), directed by Rahul Rawail, produced by Rajendra Kumar, starring debutants Kumar Gaurav and Vijayta Pandit in lead roles. The lyrics of the song are written by Anand Bakshi, with music by RD Burman. The song is sung by Lata Mangeshkar and Amit Kumar.

It was Ravindra Jain who heard Ronu Majumdar play in 1980 at the All India Radio music competition and had him play in his studio. This is where Kishore Kumar noticed the young boy and remarked that he needs to play for Pancham.

Dakshina Mohan Tagore, also known as Dukhi Babu, took the initiative to introduce the 17 year old Majumdar to Pancham, and the rest, as they say, is history. Pandit Ronu Majumar played in Pancham’s ensemble and was part of every song right until Kuch Na Kaho from 1942: A Love Story, which was Pancham’s swansong and grand finale.

The song, Yaad Aa Rahi Hai, was originally to be sung by Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar. However, Kishore Kumar had pledged that he would never sing for Rajendra Kumar. We will leave that story for another day. That was the reason Amit Kumar came to sing playback for Kumar Gaurav, and won the Filmfare Award for Best Male Playback Singer for this song.

Love Story was declared a box office blockbuster. RD Burman was nominated for Best Music Director (Khayyam won for Umrao Jaan). Anand Bakshi was nominated for Best Lyricist (Yaad Aa Rahi Hai, he won for Tere Mere Beech Mein from Ek Duje Ke Liye). Amjad Khan was nominated for Best Supporting Actor (he won for Yaarana).

Watch Amit Kumar render a soulful live performance of Yaad Aa Rahi Hai.

Flute: Pandit Ronu Majumdar
Music: RD Burman
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Singers: Lata Mangeshkar, Amit Kumar
*ing: Kumar Gaurav, Vijayta Pandit
Director: Rahul Rawail
Producer: Rajendra Kumar
Film: Love Story (1981)