Chhaayaageet #13 - "La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la. Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da. You have to write between these two octaves."
When talented people have creative differences, it quickly escalates. The filmmaker is in a fix. His go-to lyricist has just told him he cannot work with the music composer.
Now what?
"I know a young poet. He is very good. I highly recommend him in my place", the lyricist assures.
The filmmaker's assistant is sent to summon this promising young man. The assistant reports back saying this guy doesn't want to write songs for films.
When the lyricist finds out, he scolds the young man to go meet the filmmaker at Mohan Studios.1
The filmmaker eyes him from top to bottom.
"Boishnobi kobita jaane?", he asks the assistant in Bengali. Does he know Vaishnavi poetry?
Yes, and I also know Bengali, the poet replies. The filmmaker is a little embarrassed. He explains to the poet.
"The song is for a naive village girl who is experiencing her first flush of love and sexual passion for the hero. Write a song for her."
The young man is invited to a sitting with the music composer and understand the situation of the song.
The musician starts explaining: "Kalyani is falling in love with Bikash. One night, she finishes her chores and comes out of the house humming to herself."
The filmmaker stops him right away: "She cannot come out of the house and sing."
Musician: If she does not sing outside, then you want her to sing a love song in front of her father?
Filmmaker: So what? She listens to her father's poetry all the time, can't he listen to her for once?
Musician: This is not poetry, this is a song.
Filmmaker: Then make it poetry.
Musician: The song will die inside the house.
Filmmaker: All I know is she is not coming out of the house.
Musician: If that's the case, then I am not composing this song.
The young poet is amused. For someone who works as a garage mechanic, these are first world problems. It confirms his belief that films are flimsy and he's better off just keeping the purity of his poetry intact. What excuse can he make to get out of there?
Filmmaker: Ok, she can sing in the courtyard. But she cannot go any farther.
Deal!
The next day the filmmaker calls the poet back to explain to him: "It's night time in the song. She is scared to go outside the house. On a bright moonlit night, she is afraid someone might see her."
Then the musician summons the poet separately to explain to him: "She is outside the house, in the courtyard, but in the moonlit night, she keeps looking back over her shoulder."
The poet understands the heroine's mindset. No wonder she is confused. Between the filmmaker and the musician she is caught in two minds. What exactly should she do?
"Come back tomorrow for the tune", instructs the musician.
The next day he goes back. For four hours, the veteran musician keeps playing la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la on the harmonium, with his son as assistant chiming in with da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da.
Ok, he gets it now. Some la-la-la, some da-da-da.
"You have to write between these two octaves."
With zero musical inclination in both ears, he has no clue what they want from him. He wonders if he should bid them goodbye with "ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta".
Slowly the words start to form in his mind.
Walking home alone at night, with the moon drifting in and out of the clouds, the words come to him.
The heroine is out in the courtyard. She looks at the moon. Tells him to take her fair complexion away and make her dusky, so she can slip out into the night and be united with her lover.
Mora gora ang lai le
Mohe shyam rang dai de
Chhup jaoongi raat hi mein
Mohe pi ka sang dai de
The rest of the song is polished off over the week.
Ek laaj roke paiyyan
Ek moh kheenche baiyyan
Jaoon kidhar na jaoon
Humka koi batai de
What beautiful words! Perfectly capturing the conflicted and confused state of mind of the heroine.
With the entire song written, he goes to show it to the music composer. He loves it.
Ok, I'll go to the filmmaker now and show it to him.
"Can you sing?", the musician asks.
No, my talents are limited to writing.
"Arre, tum kaisa bhi sunayega aur humara tune reject ho jayega." You will make a mess of it and my tune will be rejected. Wait until we can go together and I will sing it myself to make the right impression.
The poet nods. The humility of this great composer, worried that his tune might be rejected!
This was the first song penned by Gulzar. This was the first song Lata sang for SD after she patched up with him. When she came for the rehearsals, she was impressed with the lyrics. She asked SD who wrote this. SD said, "It's a new poet."
After this song was composed, SD and Shailendra, who were not on talking terms, got back together. SD wanted Shailendra to write all other songs of Bandini. He didn't want to work with a new poet. Bimal Roy felt bad. He was convinced of Gulzar's talent.
Bimal Roy told Gulzar, "Please, whatever you do, don't go back to the garage. You don't have to write songs forever. Cinema is a director's medium. Come and work as my assistant."
Bandini was Bimal Roy's last directorial venture. It is considered a landmark film of the 1960s. It swept the Filmfare awards that year.
Bandini was Gulzar's first foray into the world of cinema, and he is listed as lyricist and assistant director in the film credits. What an amazing gift by Bimal Roy, plucking Gulzar out of Vichare Motors garage! We are forever indebted to Bimal Roy for introducing Gulzar to the world!
It was during the making of Bandini, that Gulzar and RD became life long friends.
1 When Shailendra found out Gulzar wasn't too keen to write film songs, he gave him a dressing down. Who do you think you are to think that writing for films is beneath you? Shailendra knows this mindset well. After all, he'd turned down Raj Kapoor by saying his poetry was not for sale.
Lyrics: Gulzar
Music: SD Burman
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Director: Bimal Roy
Film: Bandini (1963)