Chhaayaageet #230 - "Wapas aane ki koi zaroorat nahin hai. Mein apni recording khud kar loonga."
"There is no need to return back. I will do my recording on my own."
The sun is deciding to call it a day. The senior composer sits by his harmonium, fingers gliding over the keys searching for inspiration. He glances at his watch almost every minute as if he waiting for something or someone. Ever since his son has become a composer in his own right, their lives have drifted apart. Like railway tracks, you can see each other but not come together. Father and son share the crew of musicians between them. The crew is right now in Madras with the junior composer for a recording. This is par for the course when you sign up with producers from the South. But they should be back soon. Anytime now. The senior composer glances at his watch again.
The phone rings. A senior musician from the crew speaks from the other side, “Saheb, ek problem aa gayi hai. Yahan Madras mein recording ke liye thoda aur time lagega.” Sir, there’s been a problem. The recording here in Madras will take longer than we thought.
The senior composer does not speak. He stays quiet, takes a deep breath before responding, “Woh to theek hai. Par team wapas kab aa rahi hai? Maine agle hafte mere ek gaane ki recording rakhi hai. Rehearsals karni hai.” Ok, that’s fine. But when is the team going to come back? I have scheduled a recording for one of my songs next week. Rehearsals have to be done.
Now there is a pause on the other side of the line in Madras. “Saheb, hum logon ko abhi aur do hafte lagenge. Humein bahot bura lag raha hai. Poori koshish karenge kaam jaldi khatam karke waapas aa jaye.” Sir, it will take us another two weeks. We are feeling very sorry. We will try our level best to finish the work sooner and return back.
A tightness pulls at the senior composer’s jaw. He is borderline furious. What used to be his own team is now not there with him. “Waapas aane ki koi zaroorat nahin hai. Mein apni recording khud kar loonga.” There is no need to come back. I will do my recording on my own.
He hangs up, frustration mixed with a sense of betrayal. The delay isn’t just about schedules. It feels like a crack in the world he has painstakingly built over decades. These musicians have been his backbone for years, almost an extension of himself, yet today he feels let down by them.
Soon he moves on to what to do next. For some reason two other independent musicians keep coming back to his mind. They worked for him when they started their careers. Since then they have chosen their own paths on their own terms, performing in dazzling concerts and releasing solo albums to worldwide acclaim. They have their own identity now. The composer is sure they would not have forgotten their roots. But what if they say ‘No’? Nonetheless, the senior composer picks up the phone, hoping that music, above all else, can bridge all gaps.
The composer dials one of the musicians, explains the situation and requests a favor. The musician responds, “Ye aap kya keh rahe ho? Aaj hum jo bhi hain, aap ki wajah se hain. Ye hum aap ke liye zaroor karenge.” What are you saying? You are the reason we are where we have reached and we owe it to you. We will definitely do this for you.
The senior composer feels overwhelmed, a film of mist appearing over his eyes. Encouraged, he makes the second phone call to the other musician, and receives the same response. Almost giddy to hear both veteran musicians agree immediately, the composer makes a final phone call to his trusted tabla player. A percussionist will be essential as they record. That’s it. He doesn’t need anybody else.
The following day, the little group gathers together. The senior composer shares the situation of the song. It is a duet with closeups of both the lead actor and actress. The song is to be shot indoors. The song is about their soon-to-be-born child. Next, he walks them through the composition.
“Jahan par heavy orchestra aayega, wahan par aap dono ko bajaana hai. Mein isme kisi arranger ko use nahin karunga. Aap dono jo bajayenge wo hi arrangement hoga. Aap decide karo aur bajao.“ Where there would be a heavy orchestra, I will need your instruments to take over. I am not going to use any arranger. Whatever you guys play, that will be the arrangement. You guys decide and play.
The two musicians nod assertively. After all they are heavyweights. Each one of them has the capacity to mesmerize an audience of thousands.
The composer looks at the tabla player. “Aapko poore gaane ko rhythm mein rakhna hai. Humare paas koi bade dholak ya drum nahin hai. Bas ek tabla hai.” I need you to keep the whole song in rhythm. We don’t have any big dholaks or drums, just one tabla.
The rehearsals go well. The date for recording is decided and the singers are invited. The two singers get settled in their booth and the rest outside in the large area where usually the orchestra is seated. Almost feels like a practice session with four of them huddled in one small corner.
SD Burman composed the tune for the song Jeevan Ki Bagiya Mehkegi and rest of the songs in the film Tere Mere Sapne (1971). The song is written by Neeraj and playback by Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar. The film is produced by Dev Anand and directed by Vijay Anand. The song features Dev Anand and Mumtaz on screen. The musicians who helped deliver the composition were Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia on the flute and Pandit Shivkumar Sharma on the santoor.
As RD Burman gained prominence as an independent composer, he was quite popular and had a busy schedule. He had signed up with a producer from the South for the film, Lakhon Me Ek. The recording of the songs for that film was scheduled in Madras and he had to fly there with his recording crew. Several of these musicians were shared between Burman Dada and Pancham. One of them was the talented Manohari Singh who was also the arranger. He had to make the unfortunate call to inform senior Burman about the delay in their recording and how that would impact the recording schedule in Bombay. SD Burman did not take this news lightly and decided to move forward with a skeletal but powerful recording team of Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia, Pandit Shivkumar Sharma and a tabla player.
The film was released in Kohinoor theater, among others in Bombay, where it replaced the Marathi film, Songadya, featuring Dada Kondke. This news angered Shiv Sena followers and Balasaheb Thackeray forced the theater management to take down Tere Mere Sapne on its first day of release at Kohinoor and reinstate Songadya.
SD Burman believed that the orchestration should not overpower the song and the lyrics. The song starts off with a striking simplicity, featuring just one lead instrument at a time—whether it’s the flute or the santoor weaving its melody. Underneath, the tabla maintains a steady, subtle rhythm. It is to SD Burman’s credit that despite the minimal ensemble, the music carries the depth and richness of a full orchestra, but without violins, guitars, or large percussion instruments. As one listens carefully knowing this reality, it transforms the entire experience with new found appreciation for SD Burman.
Music: SD Burman
Musicians: Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia, Pandit Shivkumar Sharma
Lyrics: Neeraj
*ing: Mumtaz, Dev Anand
Singers: Lata Mangeshkar, Kishore Kumar
Director: Vijay Anand
Film: Tere Mere Sapne (1971)