Chhaayaageet #247 - "Aap ko sirf mukhda gaana hai."
You have to sing only the refrain.
The 1970s have just begun. The winds of change in Hindi film music that started from the last few years of the 1960s have continued unabated. Western influences are coming in. Modern sounds are being experimented and introduced. Non traditional arrangements are becoming a new normal.
For any purist composer who started composing in the 1950s with the backdrop of Indian classical music, this type of music would have been irreverent, blasphemous even. But our composer doesn’t have such dogma. He is not a trained musician. He does have that unmistakable Indian flavor in his melodies, but he is not opposed to improvising.
This new film offers him a wide canvas. The script has interesting song situations. There is a qawwali, a ghazal, a soft ballad, a dance number, and another romantic one. That romantic one is an expression of love.
The filmmaker explains this song situation in detail.
Hero meets heroine. He is a taxi driver who picks her up as his ride. There is chemistry that both seem to awaken to.
As the taxi winds through Bombay roads, moods change, and the situation progresses fast. The monsoon adds to the romantic atmosphere. The incessant pelting of the rain creates a consistent and predictable sound. It’s not too loud. There are no surprises.
The smell of the earth signals freshness. It brings hope, emotional cleansing, prospect of a fresh start, as if the past is washing itself away. There is an emotional release and the kindling of affection.
But there is no wet sari, no gyrating hips. They are in a taxi. They have just met. But the rain makes the cozy interior of the taxi even smaller, bringing them closer. He is not shy to express himself. That’s where the song comes in.
The composer realizes this is a challenging situation. The scene is basically a car ride. The camera will be pretty much static capturing the hero and heroine through the windshield. But there is a mood that the music can definitely enhance.
He decides to experiment. This love story is going to move fast, as if the four seasons of the year go in an hour, perhaps like Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. Each season of the year, spring, summer, autumn and winter, has its own musical expression. The music of each season was intended to evoke the spirit of that season, from flowing creeks to singing birds, from buzzing flies to storms, from frozen landscapes to crackling fires. Vivaldi divided each concerto into three tempos, fast, slow, fast.
Not withstanding the challenge of the situation, the composer has ratcheted up the challenge for himself. He will bring the spirit of Vivaldi to the Hindi film song. Each antara will have a different tempo and will be a different composition to match the pace of the love story, starting with a slow burn but then moving at breakneck speed.
This is not something the composer has ever done before. It will not be his signature style. But he cannot worry about alienating an existing audience by doing something different. That’s the fundamental obstacle to creativity because you get trapped. He can’t worry about people who don’t realize that the opposite of a good idea can be another good idea. You have to be able to abandon assumptions and stereotypes to fuel creativity.
It takes long days and longer nights to compose each antara meticulously. He asks a well known musician and arranger to do the orchestration and arrangement. The arranger is an expert percussionist and also plays various Western instruments, especially the jazz drums.
It takes yeoman effort to compose, arrange and record the song. The composer feels immense satisfaction. The filmmaker, musicians, lyricist, singer and the whole crew feel satisfaction in having done something remarkably different.
After some other songs are also checked off the list, the composer busies himself with BG, film lingo for background music. One day the filmmaker expresses a thought.
“Heroine ko bhi kuch gaana chahiye, woh hero ka pyar kabool karti hai,” he shares with the composer. The heroine needs to also sing something, to express that she accepts the hero’s love interest and reciprocate the hero’s feelings.
They are in a dilemma. Should the lyricist write something for the heroine’s part in the song? No. The composer has an idea. The lyricist does not need to write anything. The heroine does not need to sing anything elaborate. She will accept the hero’s feelings and reciprocate by only singing the mukhda of the song.
Who should sing the mukhda for the heroine? Who will be ready to sing just one line in the song? The composer has a sisterly relationship with the nightingale. He approaches her, “Aap ko sirf mukhda gaana hai.” You have to sing only the refrain.
They record her singing the mukhda, and add it in afterwards, with the sound of the sea and clouds in the background. The weightlessness of her ethereal voice feels almost like an instrument. It lifts the emotional level of the song, deepening the longing and the romantic mood, without ever competing against the male singer’s voice.
Madan Mohan composed the enchanting composition and the song, Tum Jo Mil Gaye Ho, for Chetan Anand’s Hanste Zakhm (1973), lyrics by Kaifi Azmi, playback by Mohammad Rafi and Lata Mangeshkar. The song is filmed on Navin Nischol and Priya Rajvansh.
When the song was released, Madan ji was criticized by his ardent followers and critics for giving in to the Western influence and changing his style. This disappointed him deeply, especially since the film had many other beautiful songs, including Betaab Dil Ki Tamanna sung by Lata Mangeshkar.
The film was a hit at the box office. The song, Tum Jo Mil Gaye Ho, is still a much beloved song and a rage. Kersi Lord arranged the orchestration for the song.
Music: Madan Mohan
Lyrics: Kaifi Azmi
Arranger: Kersi Lord
Singers: Mohammad Rafi, Lata Mangeshkar
*ing: Navin Nischol, Priya Rajvansh
Director: Chetan Anand
Film: Hanste Zakhm (1973)