Chhaayaageet #285 - "Yeh kya kar rahe hain aap? Public so jayegi."
What are you doing? The audience will fall asleep.
The lyricist reaches the music sitting at the composer’s studio. The composer is famous for his fast, foot-tapping rhythms and orchestrations. The film they are working on is a thriller. The song needs to fit a romantic situation.
“Aaiye, Raja ji. Kya likh ke laaye hain?” The composer asks the lyricist. Please come, Raja ji. What have you written for us today?
“Aapko mukhda sunata hoon. Pasand aaya to puri nazm likh denge,” the lyricist assures. I’ll recite the refrain for you. If you like it, then I’ll write the whole poem.
The lyricist opens his notebook and recites the mukhda to the composer. The composer shakes his head in disapproval.
“Bahot slow hai. Bahot hi saada hai. Yeh nahin chalega,” the composer gives his verdict. It is too slow. It is very simple. This won’t do.
The lyricist doesn’t know what to say. His eyes glance at the Urdu letters written neatly in his notebook. He stays quiet. The composer gives the lyricist his space. Perhaps the lyricist is thinking of something else.
After a few more seconds, he prompts the lyricist, “Kya soch rahe hain, Raja ji? Aur kuch hai aap ke paas?” What do you think, Raja ji? Do you have something else?
The lyricist has indeed been thinking. But he hasn’t been thinking of changing the lyrics of this song just to make it peppy. He is thinking of a completely different song that he has written the words for, a song for a completely different film, a completely different composer. He has been debating whether or not to make the swap.
Finally, he decides to switch the two songs. He pulls out another notebook from his bag. He feels confident the composer will like these words.
“Ek aur mukhda sun lijiye aur bataiye kaisa lagta hai,” the lyricist says with some hope. Listen to this refrain and tell me what you think.
The lyricist opens the second notebook and recites the words. The composer is elated. Just what he has been looking for. He realizes the lyricist must have written this for some other film.
“Yeh bahot achha hai. Aap aisa kariye, yeh humko de dijiye,” he impresses upon the lyricist. This is very good. Do one thing, give me this song.
The lyricist wraps up the sitting, and makes his way to the other composer’s house. The situation of this other song is such that the heroine is expressing her love for the first time to the hero. In pulling off the swap, the lyricist had weighed the situation and both sets of words. This other film’s producer also wanted a foot-tapping song for this situation. Why does everyone want a foot-tapping song?
The lyricist reaches the next composer’s house. They discuss the song and the situation. The lyricist does not reveal that he swapped the lyrics and gave the foot-tapping words to someone else.
The composer is a good chef. He serves the lyricist his favorite and specialty dish, Bhindi Gosht (okra and lamb curry). They talk about life, food, and music over dinner. After dinner, the lyricist shares his notebook with the composer. The page is opened to the words that have been rejected as too soft and simple.
The composer reads them and does not respond. He writes them down on his paper. As the lyricist gets ready to leave, the composer accompanies him in the elevator to the ground floor of the building. The composer’s son goes along for the ride.
After goodbyes, the composer and his son get back into the elevator. The composer presses the button for the fifth floor and closes his eyes. The son sees his father go into a trance and start humming a tune.
As soon as the elevator stops on the fifth floor, the composer rushes out, and goes straight to his harmonium. He perfects the tune for the lyricist’s words.
A few days later, lyricist and composer get together to play the tune for the filmmaker. The composer plays the tune on the harmonium and sings along. The filmmaker gets up and paces the floor, a frown writ large on his face. The melody is too slow. It lacks an upbeat rhythm.
“Yeh kya kar rahe hain aap? Public so jayegi,” he says to the lyricist and composer, looking at them in disbelief.
The lyricist closes his eyes. Did he do the right thing by swapping the songs? These same words were rejected by the earlier composer as too slow. And now here by this filmmaker.
“Yeh gaana aisa hi rahega. Nahin badlega,” the composer is stubborn. He refuses to budge. This song will stay as is. It won’t change.
They go back and forth, each man holding his own, digging deeper. The filmmaker trying to convince the composer that the romantic situation of the heroine expressing her love needs to be positively upbeat and not a depressingly slow song. The composer staying stubborn on his end trying to convince the filmmaker of the raw emotion of love and belonging in the words and the melody.
“Theek hai. Agar aap apni zidd par aday hain to mein gaana trial print mein rakhoonga. Agar trial mein logon ko pasand nahin aaya to yeh gaana film mein nahin rahega,” the filmmaker proposes a way out. Ok. Since you are being so stubborn, I will keep this song in the trial print of the film. If the trial audience likes the song, then it will remain in the film.
A compromise is reached. The trial print is a limited screening for distributors and some industry people. Needless to say, the song was loved and held the audience spellbound, and it stayed in the film.
Raja Mehdi Ali Khan wrote the lyrics and Madan Mohan composed the music of Aap Ki Nazron Ne Samjha and other songs in Anpadh (1962), produced by Rajendra Bhatia and Mohan Segal. The song is sung by the inimitable Lata Mangeshkar and filmed on Mala Sinha and Dharmendra.
Bindu made her debut in this film and featured in the song Jiya Le Gayo Ji Mora Sawariya. Later on she famously went on to essay the roles of a vamp. Aruna Irani, as a child artist, essayed the role of a younger Mala Sinha in the film.
The song Aap Ki Nazron Ne has acquired cult status and is one of the evergreen songs of the 1960s.
If you listen to this song carefully, you will notice that the orchestration is set up so that the instruments and Lata ji’s voice alternate. The instruments recede completely into the background when Lata ji sings, giving prominence to the poetry and the voice.
Madan Mohan’s composition, which he came up with in the elevator, and Lata ji’s soulful rendition ensured that this song became very popular and proved the producer wrong.
Raja Mehdi Ali Khan had written this song originally for Ek Musafir Ek Hasina (1962), but was rejected by OP Nayyar as too slow. The song that was originally written for Anpadh was Aap Yun Hi Agar Humse Milte Rahe. OP Nayyar then set up that song as a conversational duet between Mohammad Rafi and Asha Bhosle.
Enjoy that song below.
Lyrics: Raja Mehdi Ali Khan
Music: Madan Mohan
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
*ing: Mala Sinha
Producer: Rajendra Bhatia, Mohan Segal
Film: Anpadh (1962)
