Chhaayaageet #248 - "Humein ye gaana aakhir mein rakhna chahiye."
We should keep this song towards the end
The year is 1963. A heavy silence hangs over India. The wounds from the war with China are still fresh. The nation is bruised after the heavy blow it faced from China. But for the filmmaker, this doesn’t matter. Victory or defeat is part of war. One side wins, the other loses. But the soldiers’ sacrifice needs to be recognized. Those unsung heroes need to be remembered properly as martyrs.
For some reason, he is haunted by the image of a handful of soldiers holding their ground against the enemy in the freezing cold of Ladakh. He decides that he must make a film. But not just any film. It needs to be a document of reality. He decides to call it what it is.
He secures government permission to shoot at the same location in Ladakh. The same harsh and unforgiving terrain where the actual blood was shed.
To give a voice to the film, he turns to a lyricist, a man known for his revolutionary and leftist ideas.
The filmmaker visits the lyricist in Janki Kutir near Juhu. “Mein chahta hoon ki aap meri film ke gaane likhen.” I would like you to write the songs for my film.
The lyricist hears the request from the filmmaker and smiles slightly. “Log kehte hain ki mein accha likhta hoon par mere sitaare gardish mein hai. Soch lijiye.” People say that I write well, but I am jinxed.
The filmmaker gets the irony of his statement and is ready with a witty rebuttal. “Log mere baare mein bhi yehi kehte hai, shaayad hum dono ki kismat saath judne se sitaare bhi theek ho jaayen.” People say the same about me; perhaps if we two negatives come together, it will make a positive impact. The lyricist smiles again and provides his tacit agreement.
All three of them, including the composer, sit in a smoke-filled room in the recording studio. They are now working on the final song. The composer has already crafted a haunting melody. Now, the lyricist must provide the words. He writes lines that are not mere poetry, but a dying soldier’s final testament to his countrymen. Something that will shake anyone watching the film to their core.
The recording of the song takes place. Most of the sound crew is wiping their tears with their handkerchiefs. The filmmaker and the lyricist quickly realize that this song is what will bring everything together.
The lyricist has his own view. “Humein ye gaana aakhir mein rakhna chahiye. Film ke khatam hone se pehle.” We should keep this song towards the end. Just before the film ends.
The filmmaker frowns, shaking his head. “Agar humne isse end mein daala, toh hall khaali milega. Jab film khatam hone wali hoti hai to log bhagte hain last train ya bus pakadne.” If we keep the song towards the end, then the theatre hall will be empty. Typically, when a film ends, the audience rushes to the exit to catch the last train or bus.
The lyricist stands his ground. “Nahi, ye faujiyon ka aakhri salaam hai. Ye film ke aakhir mein hi aana chahiye.” No, this is the final salute of the soldiers. It must come only just before the ending.
The filmmaker sighs, rubbing his head. He knows the habits of the Indian audience. They are restless. As soon as the hero dies or the villain is defeated, they rush for the exits.
The filmmaker tries again. “Tum samajh nahi rahe ho. Jazbaat se nahin dimaag se kaam lo.” You don’t understand. Use your brains instead of emotion.
The room goes quiet. The lyricist picks up the paper with the lyrics and looks the filmmaker in the eye with absolute conviction. He knows that this is not just a song but a transfer of responsibility from the dying soldier to the living audience. “Jab ye bol gunjenge, toh koi bhi apni kursi chhod ke nahi jayega. Aap dekhna woh iss gaane ke liye, aur apne desh ke liye, khade ho jayenge.” When these words echo, nobody will leave their chairs. They just won’t stop for this song, and for their country, they will stand up in respect.
Reluctantly, the filmmaker agrees. Months later, at the premiere, as the screen fades and the voice of the singer begins, the filmmaker looks around nervously in the theatre. The lyricist was right. The audience does not rush. Tears stream down the faces in the darkness. And as if pulled by an invisible thread of patriotism, the entire theatre rises to its feet, standing in solemn silence until the last note of the song.
Kaifi Azmi wrote the lyrics of the song Ab Tumhare Hawaale Watan Saathiyon in the film Haqeeqat. The film was written, produced, and directed by Chetan Anand, and the music was composed by Madan Mohan. The playback of the song was provided by Mohammed Rafi. The song plays in the background with Dharmendra and Priya Rajvansh on the screen.
Kaifi Azmi’s entry into the film industry was driven less by a desire for glamor and more as a means of survival. He was a dedicated member of the Communist Party and initially wrote for the party’s journals. However, when the party was banned and funding dried up, he turned to the film industry to support his family. He got a few breaks in the early 1950s, but for the rest of the decade, he struggled to find a stable footing. This changed when Chetan Anand approached him for Haqeeqat. When Kaifi Azmi warned him that his presence might jinx the project, Anand famously responded that since he too was considered unlucky and perhaps two negatives would make a positive.
The film was made with government and army assistance. Parts of the film were shot on location in Ladakh, thus becoming the first Hindi film to be shot there. The left-leaning artists of the Indian People’s Theatre Association did not charge for their work on the film. This included director Chetan Anand, Noel Corke (Assistant Director), actor Balraj Sahni, Kaifi Azmi, and actress Shaukat Azmi.
During the shooting for Haqeeqat, Dharmendra and his co-star, Sanjay Khan, often returned to camp late at night. One particularly cold evening, feeling brave after having a few drinks, they mistakenly walked into a highly restricted military zone. An Indian sentry immediately spotted the two figures in the dark. Thinking they were spies or intruders, the sentry quickly aimed his rifle directly at them. The actors instantly froze in their tracks. It took some explanations from army personnel nearby to convince the soldier that the two men were just film stars who wandered into the restricted zone in an inebriated state.
The music of Haqeeqat begins with lively romantic tunes and moves to more epic war and sad tunes. The song Ab Tumhare Hawaale Watan Saathiyon has become synonymous with patriotism in India. This song, over five minutes long, comes at the end of the film with visuals of dead Indian soldiers all over the landscape. The song Ho ke Majboor went on to inspire Sandese Aate Hai from the film Border, written by Kaifi Azmi’s son-in-law, Javed Akhtar.
Lyrics: Kaifi Azmi
Music: Madan Mohan
Singers: Mohammed Rafi
*ing: Dharmendra, Priya Rajvansh
Producer/Director/Writer: Chetan Anand
Film: Haqeeqat (1964)