Chhaayaageet #273 - "This song is doing something. It's magic."
The filmmaker and composer are busy recording the background music of their film in the composer’s studio. Suddenly news reaches them that there have been horrendous riots in Bombay. The riots affect the filmmaker deeply. He decides this will be the topic of his next film.
After wrapping up the film, the filmmaker now moves on this next project. He approaches a veteran cinematographer.
“This is a film about the Bombay riots. A young man is caught in a situation that is not of his own making. But I don’t want this to be a sad film. I want to show everything that came before the riots as beautiful as possible”, the filmmaker tells the cinematographer.
The cinematographer thinks for a while. The riots happened in December of 1992 and January of 1993. This means the six month period before the riots would be the monsoon season.
“Let’s shoot a lot of shots in the rain”, the cinematographer responds.
The filmmaker likes this suggestion. The monsoon season elevates the beauty of nature. The cinematographer goes on a recce to identify some locations. He selects Bekal Fort in Kerala for the location of a song.
The Bekal Fort is a medieval fort built in 1650 AD. It is the largest fort in Kerala, spreading over 40 acres. Moreover, the fort appears to just emerge from the sea. Three-quarters of the fort exterior is in contact with the water.
The filmmaker loves the location. It is a beautiful backdrop for a love song.
“I want a love song”, the filmmaker tells the composer.
The composer is in a completely different headspace. “What love song?”, he thinks to himself. He has had a lot of late and sleepless nights. He has no fuel left in him. He needs to recharge.
But the filmmaker’s request is urgent. The composer finds his way to his piano. This is where he does his best work as he composes his tunes. He glides his fingers over the ivories. But tonight the notes do not come. He sits at the piano long enough hoping inspiration to strike.
He is too tired to even think. And too tired to be frustrated. The mind starts to slowly shut down. The shoulders slacken first. Then the spine starts to slump. The fingers, which were searching the piano keys, now just rest on them.
Sleep does not arrive all at once. It comes like surrender. The body loosens its hold on itself little by little, eyelids growing too heavy by the second, breathing slowing down. Conscious thoughts begin to recede. The chatter dies down. The conscious mind that has tried to find a tune can no longer command itself to continue.
But even in that state something still remains awake beneath everything.
As the composer drifts deeper into the border between sleep state and dream state, the subconscious starts moving through memory, fragments of sound, and feeling. There is no effort. There is no analysis. There is no intent. There is no need to force creativity into existence. The subconscious mind begins assembling what the conscious mind could not.
Somewhere in that sleep state, the tune comes to him. He is suddenly awakened by his awkward posture. The tune stays with him through his journey back to wakefulness. It is a slow tune. He quickly records himself humming it into the mini cassette-player that is always dutifully within his arm’s reach. And he goes to bed.
The next afternoon the composer finds the mini cassette-player and listens to the tune. It is slow. In fact, it is too slow.
The filmmaker calls. “Where is the tune?”
“I got a tune, but it is very slow for a love song”, the composer admits.
The filmmaker doesn’t seem to be bothered. “It’s ok. Let’s record.”
The composer thinks about who might be the best singer to sing the song. He writes down two names on paper. Both are veteran popular singers who would do justice to the song. But he is not able to make up his mind.
He leaves the paper with the two names on the table and walks around. Another name comes to his mind. He writes it down as the third name. Still he is not able to make up his mind.
The composer then creates three chits of paper, with one name on each, folds them and puts them in a hat. Let destiny take care of it, he thinks.
He closes his eyes, says a prayer, and picks up one chit. He opens it. It is the third singer’s name. He is a very unusual singer for this song, the composer thinks to himself. This person is a ghazal singer. He doesn’t stand on one note. That’s his style. But that’s the chit that got picked. So why argue with destiny?
The singer is contacted and beckoned to the studio. He is given the lyrics and the tune. The singer has a feeling of deja vu. Where has he heard this tune before? Has he heard it before? It sure feels like he has heard this tune somewhere. But where? It sounds so familiar.
The singer is curious to know the music. But there is none. The music and orchestration has not been arranged yet. The tune is all there is. And a click track and a light harmony. The singer sings the song with only his voice getting recorded in the studio.
The filmmaker then takes the track to the Bekal Fort location for filming.
As they film the love song with the hero and heroine, at the end of the shoot, the filmmaker calls the composer, saying, “This song is doing something. It’s magic.” The composer finds it interesting. The filmmaker continues, “I think we need some BGM when the heroine is running towards the hero.” BGM, industry lingo for background music.
The orchestration along with BGM is added to the song. The song becomes even more magical.
AR Rahman composed the music of Bombay (1995) and the song Tu Hi Re, sung by Hariharan, Kavita Krishnamurthy and Sunanda (humming), lyrics by Mehboob. The song is filmed on Anand Swamy and Manisha Koirala.
Bombay is written and directed by Mani Ratnam, as the second in the trilogy of Roja (1992), and Dil Se (1998). The film was very well received both critically and commercially, and the soundtrack of the film became immensely popular.
Hariharan recorded the song in 30-45 minutes flat, as he felt he already knew the tune in his heart and it did not take him long to learn it. He first recorded the Tamil version and then the Hindi version. The female vocals, and the music orchestration were all added later.
The two other names that AR Rahman wrote in the hat were SP Balasubramanyam and Yesudas.
Bombay won the Filmfare Award for Best Film (Critics) awarded to Mani Ratnam, and Best Actress (Critics) for Manisha Koirala.
Watch Hariharan sing this song live:
Music: AR Rahman
Singers: Hariharan, Kavita Krishnamurthy, Sunanda
Lyrics: Mehboob
*ing: Anand Swamy, Manisha Koirala
Director: Mani Ratnam
Film: Bombay (1995)