Chhaayaageet #258 - "Beta, maine bada ganda gaana likha hai."
Child, I have written a very vulgar song.
Today is the recording of an important song of the film. The filmmaker, female singer, composer and his orchestra, and the lyricist are all in attendance in the studio. It is a complex song, less like the conventional Hindi film song and more like a hypnotic incantation.
The composition creates the atmosphere before the melody. The start of the song is a steady, almost lazy blues rhythm that refuses to hurry. The restraint carries an undercurrent of anticipation.
The filmmaker has explained the song situation in detail. It is a song in a bar and is performed by the resident singer/dancer at an upscale restaurant. The song starts with a few couples grooving slowly to the music. The clock strikes midnight. The dance floor is cleared. The dancer slowly gets up from her barstool, too inebriated to find her footing, but as the music picks up she finds her groove.
The lyricist is quietly observing the proceedings. The female singer and the composer are in a conversation. She is registering a complaint, “Aap aise gaane mujhe hi kyon dete ho? Didi ko kyon nahin dete?” Why do you give me such songs? Why don’t you give Didi (elder sister) such songs?
The composer is busy. He notes her faux complaint, and replies, “Aap jaanti nahin hain iss gaane ka kya hone wala hai.” You don’t know what is going to happen with this song.
The singer is not convinced. She mutters, as if speaking with herself, “Kya hone wala hai? Kuchh nahin hone wala hai. Koi nahin bataa saktaa.” What is going to happen? Nothing is going to happen. No one can predict.
The composer calls for another rehearsal. He is vocalizing the undercurrent of anticipation and tension himself with exhalations, sighs and breath. It blurs the line between rhythm and intimacy. The sounds are not just ornamental. They set the emotional temperature of the song, longing stretched to the point of aching. Breath becomes timekeeping beats, and mood-setting provocation all at once. The song feels less like a performance and more like an atmosphere.
The singer is in her element. The musical arrangement is deliberately designed to not overpower her vocals.
The lyricist is quietly watching everything. But somewhere deep down he is unsettled. He has had a complicated, often uneasy relationship with authority. His words have repeatedly brought him into conflict with the system. He had been jailed for refusing to dilute his verses. Even in his extensive career in Hindi cinema, the pressure to change words had never really gone away. He had complied at times, but not without inner resistance. Each forced change is a small negotiation with power.
But today the unease is different. He believes words are not just strung together to create phrases, but they come together to create consequences, be they political, cultural or personal. Today he is struggling with the personal consequences of his words. Today he is negotiating with the power of conscience within.
Even amidst the music in the studio, his mind takes him back to an early mushaira, a formal gathering of poets rooted in the Urdu-Persian tradition where poetry is recited. He had recited a verse that had come to him from deep within his heart, and other poets at the mushaira had insisted that he change one word. He had given in. A single word had radically altered the emotional tone of the verse.
A lot of thoughts rush to him. Finally he makes up his mind. The rehearsals are complete. The composer is calling for a take. The female singer is about to enter the singer’s booth. He must do something. Now. Before it is too late.
He walks up to the singer with folded hands, “Beta, mein jaa raha hoon.” Child, I am leaving.
She is confused, unsure why he is saying this. He has always been there at the recordings of all his songs.
He continues, “Beta, maine bada ganda gaana likha hai.” Child, I have written a very vulgar song.
She stays silent. He continues, glancing towards the filmmaker, “Aur woh nahin maanega. Labz badalne nahin dega.” He won’t listen. He won’t let me change the words.
She asks, “Lekin gaana to ab ban gaya hai. Aap kyon jaa rahe hain?” But the song is now complete. Why are you leaving?
He explains, “Meri do betiyan hain. Badi hokar woh ye gaana gayengi to mujhe kaisa lagega?” I have two daughters. When they grow up and sing this song, how will I feel?
She understands, and nods, as she says, “Lekin mujhe to abhi gaana padega.” But I will have to sing it.
The lyricist leaves the studio before the song is recorded.
Majrooh Sultanpuri wrote the lyrics of the hit song Piya Tu Ab To Aaja from Caravan (1971), directed by Nasir Hussain, with music by RD Burman and playback by Asha Bhosle and RD Burman. The song is filmed on Helen.
Piya Tu Ab To Aaja is an iconic song that is widely regarded as one of the quintessential cabaret songs of Hindi cinema. It is a highly suggestive song with Asha Bhosle and RD Burman creating an emotionally charged atmosphere with their vocals.
Majrooh Sultanpuri left the song before it was recorded in the take. He could not bring himself to accept that he had written this song, and he felt that it was too late to do anything about it.
Early in his life at a mushaira, he had penned the verse:
Main akela hi chala tha jaanib-e-manzil magar
Gair saath aate gaye aur caravan banta gaya
The other poets insisted he change the word “Gair” to “Log” and that’s what the last line became famous as: Log saath aate gaye aur caravan banta gaya
The original line with the word “Gair” conveys the poet to be a loner by choice. After changing the word to “Log”, it becomes more positive.
Asha Bhosle won the Filmfare Award for Best Female Playback Singer for this song. RD Burman was nominated for Best Music Director award for the film, and Aruna Irani was nominated for Best Supporting Actress.
Listen to Asha ji performing this song live with Govinda providing the male vocals:
Asha Bhosle also recorded a new version in 2003 for the Kronos Quartet album, You’ve Stolen My Heart: Songs from RD Burman’s Bollywood.
Listen to the new version:
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Music: RD Burman
Singers: Asha Bhosle, RD Burman
*ing: Helen
Director: Nasir Hussain
Film: Caravan (1971)