Chhaayaageet #139 - “Are you trying to end my career?”
The filmmaker is working on a script for some time. It’s not a traditional love story and needs non traditional music. He approaches a composer and gives him a loose narration. It piques the composer’s interest.
However, the script gets put on the back burner while the filmmaker gets busy writing other scripts and making those into films. Whenever he approaches the composer, the composer asks him, “What happened to that story? Aren’t you making it?” But they never end up working together. Nevertheless, every time their paths cross, the composer doesn’t forget to ask him those same questions, “What happened to that story? Aren’t you making it?”
Then the stars finally align, literally. An actor approaches him about this script. He has heard about it from someone. That conversation gives the filmmaker the inspiration to rewrite the script. He is convinced he has finally found his protagonist. Perhaps the script was waiting to be discovered by this actor.
With the cast finalized, he reaches back to the composer to see if he is available. “I am finally making that film”, he says.
“Oh my God! I have no time. There’s no way I can do this”, the composer tells him. A hundred other commitments have already filled up the calendar. “But I will do it. I want to do it”, the composer provides assurance.
The filmmaker then asks his lead actor to go spend whatever time he can in the composer’s studio in Chennai, to immerse in the making of all the songs, become intimately familiar with how the singers sing, how the musicians play. He calls his regular lyricist and also beckons him to Chennai. The filmmaker and the lyricist have already put in some long hours to come up with the opening words of each of the songs keeping in mind their situation in the script.
Having been summoned to Chennai, the lyricist is actually a bit scared. All through the flight he mentally prepares for how he would conduct himself in front of the composer, what he would say, how he would say it. He reaches the studio, and is glad to see the filmmaker. The composer is not there yet. Seeing the studio littered with award statuettes - Oscars, Grammies, Filmfares and what not, the lyricist starts to shake and tremble.
The lyricist manages to get a few words out of his dry mouth to the filmmaker, “Sir, aap hi unse bolna. Meri toh aawaz nahin niklegi. Inka aura bahot bada hai.” Sir, you only talk with him. I don’t think I can utter a sound. He has a big aura.
The composer arrives. Within five minutes, the lyricist has not only found his voice but doles out fundas to the composer on how every song needs a hook. The composer just nods patiently listening to everything the lyricist has to say. The filmmaker is amused.
Conversation turns to all the song situations. The composer looks at one particular song on the list and the starting words. He is taken aback. He looks at the filmmaker in disbelief. “What are you trying to do? Are you trying to end my career?”, he asks the filmmaker incredulously.
The words in question happen to be from the holy book. They are in praise of the Creator. How can one tune them to song?
The filmmaker explains the song situation and insists those are the right words. The composer is worried. If the composition is not liked, or the filmmaker does not shoot the song respectfully, then all fingers will be pointed at him. It would be nearly blasphemous.
The filmmaker explains he will do everything with due decorum and respect. He has also scouted the location for the song. It will be shot at the dargah (mausoleum) of Sufi saint Khwajah Nizamuddin Auliya and his disciple, the Sufi poet and singer, Amir Khusrau. He will be taking permission to shoot at the place of faith and pay proper homage.
As the day wears on, they decide on the choice of male playback singer to sing all the protagonist’s songs. Since the composer is intent on doing this film despite his packed schedule, they get to work right away. The filmmaker returns back to shooting other parts of the film, while the lyricist stays back to work.
One day, the composer puts in a call to another singer in Mumbai and asks him to come right away to Chennai to record a song. The singer arrives obediently the same night around 8pm . He expects to be given the lyrics and rehearse. To his surprise he is told the lyrics have not yet been completely written. The lyricist is writing them in pieces and the composer is composing them as they go along. Then they go back and make changes, and that causes the composition to change.
The singer is not quite sure how this is going to work. The composer calls him and tells him, “I need you to do wuzu before you start”. Wuzu is an Islamic procedure of cleansing parts of the body, a type of purification ritual or ablution in which one washes the face, then arms, then the head, and then the feet. The singer proceeds to do so.
”Now wear your kufi”, the composer tells him. The singer wears the white cap on his head.
They go into the recording studio, and the composer locks the door. No one will come in or leave until they are done. They are now in a sacred space, singing words from the holy book. The lyricist feels a spiritual wave coming over him.
All through the night, the composer, the singer and the lyricist work on the song. The lyricist writes, the composer sets it to tune, they sing and record. They clock around 30 to 40 minutes of the song with improvisations of harmonium and vocals. They end up selecting the pieces they like and create a final track of 6 min for the qawwali.
AR Rahman composed the song Kun faya kun for Imtiaz Ali’s Rockstar (2011), lyrics by Irshaad Kamil, and vocals by AR Rahman, Javed Ali and Mohit Chauhan. Mohit’s soundtrack playback for Ranbir Kapoor was mixed in separately.
The song was filmed at the dargah of Khwaja Nizamuddin Auliya in Delhi, and picturized on Ranbir Kapoor and the Nizami brothers, Shadab Faridi Nizami, Sohrab Faridi Nizami, and their uncle Chand Nizami. The Nizami brothers belong to a lineage of qawwal singers who have been performing for centuries at the dargah, singing Sufi songs written by poet Amir Khusrau in honor of Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya. In the film, however, the Nizami brothers are seen lip syncing the words, with playback provided by AR Rahman and Javed Ali.
The words “Kun fayakunu” is an Arabic phrase that occurs in the Quran, referring to creation by Allah and a sign of His supreme creative power. It means “Be, and it is”, where He wills the world to manifest by only saying it to “Be” and it becomes. AR Rahman was hesitant to put these words to tune. The lyrics of Irshaad Kamil deserve deeper listening and appreciation. The music of Rahman touches the soul and spirit. The song signifies that the answer to human chaos is liberation achieved from submitting to the higher power.
The album of Rockstar is very highly regarded as some of the best work of AR Rahman. The music launch prior to the film release was held at the dargah in Delhi. Ranbir Kapoor won the Filmfare award for Best Actor, AR Rahman won for Best Music Director.
Watch the song at 3:40 where Ranbir Kapoor looks up to the heavens and looks like he is having a revelation, as if getting in touch with his soul and finding himself. He is highly applauded for this scene. There was no instruction from Imtiaz Ali for Ranbir Kapoor to act in that way. It was a culmination of the energy of the place, the music and the lyrics of the song.
The Nizami brothers perform this qawwali on Thursday nights at the dargah of Khwaja Nizamuddin, along with other songs such as Chaap tilak, which is also written by Amir Khusrau in Brij Bhasha. They perform at important Muslim festivals as well as festivals like Basant Panchami. Music knows no religion.
Mohit Chauhan and AR Rahman jamming to Kun faya kun.
Music: AR Rahman
Lyrics: Irshaad Kamil
Singers: AR Rahman, Javed Ali, Mohit Chauhan
*ing: Ranbir Kapoor, Nizami Brothers
Director: Imtiaz Ali
Film: Rockstar (2011)