Chhaayaageet #94 - “I wanted to record it again but he refused.”
Sometimes you just need to have faith that things will work out.
In the late 1970s, the cloth mills of Lower Parel have no idea how things will work out for that part of Bombay. Similarly, a young boy growing up in that neighborhood also has no idea of his own future. His father works in one of the cloth mills in the area. His mother supports the modest livelihood by cooking lunch tiffins for other mill workers. The middle-class family, originally from Kolhapur, are immigrants in Bombay.
As he grows up, the young boy shows remarkable promise in singing and is enrolled in a music school to become a classical singer. He dreams of becoming the best classical singer he can be. He practically lives at his guru’s house for many years in the tradition of the old Gurukul. Riyaaz, practice, would start daily at 8am and continue until noon. Only one raag would be sung each day. After a break, the next few hours would go into singing different genres of music. The young boy would stay around and help out in the house.
The guru’s family hails from Kashmir and as a result, Urdu is the spoken language at home. The young Maharashtrian boy learns the language and hones his diction and speech in it from a young age. As years go by, the young man cannot resist the allure of the Hindi film cinema. Can anyone from Bombay? He even buys an extra ticket for his tailor to come to the cinema with him to watch the styles of shirts worn by famous heroes.
One day the guru recommends the disciple enter into a singing contest, “Sur Singar”. Eminent film composers are the judges of this contest. One of the judges has even announced that the winner will be given a break and launched as a singer in his next film. The stakes are high.
Lo and behold, our young man wins the contest and the “Madan Mohan Best Singer Award”. As promised, one of the judges decides to launch him as a singer in his film.
The young man’s first song is well received as a fresh new voice. But then things return to where they were. He is one film old. After a year, one of the other judges in the contest, summons the young man to give him another song.
The composer explains the song to him. After a few rehearsals, it is the day of the recording. The singer is a little surprised at the setup of the recording room. He is not in the singer’s booth. The composer has set it up as a live performance with the orchestra around him. The microphones are a little away from him, not as close as they are in the singer’s booth.
The young man renders the song. The composer calls it a wrap. Something does not feel right. If this is a song in a film, why record it as a live performance? Why not record it as a proper playback song? The singer is not happy. He is also not happy with his own singing.
“Can we record it again? I don’t think I sang it as well as I can”, the young man asks the composer with a lot of hesitation.
“There is no need. It is good”, the composer responds a little abruptly.
The young man is close to tears. His second song ever for a Hindi film, and he doesn’t feel he has done justice to his own talent. Nobody is going to like this song. Will he just be one of those lights that shine for a fleeting moment and fizzle out?
He doesn’t know where to go, except there is only one place. He goes to Her. To him, she is divinity personified, sakshat parmeshwar. She has taken a keen interest in his singing. She likes his voice. Once she said to him, “If only you were born 20 years before, everything would fit in nicely.”
Upon seeing him and his face she asks him what happened.
“I wanted to record it again but he refused”, and he practically breaks into tears.
She consoles him. Everything will be alright. If he said it is good, then it is very good. Sometimes you just need to have faith that things will work out.
Suresh Wadkar sang Seene mein jalan for Muzaffar Ali’s Gaman (1978), music by Jaidev, and lyrics by Shahryar. Shahryar had already penned this ghazal, and Muzaffar Ali thought it fit in perfectly with the theme of the plight of immigrant workers in Bombay. If you listen to the film track, it sounds more like a live stereophonic sound and less like a recording.
Muzaffar Ali worked in the Air India office at Nariman Point as an advertising executive, making inflight films. He would look down from the 18th floor and see taxi drivers waiting in the scorching sun for passengers. He would wonder about their life in the bustling metropolis, part of the crowd yet isolated. He decided to make his first Hindi film on this topic.
Suresh Wadkar learnt classical music from his guru Pandit Jiyalal Vasant. Wadkar won the “Sur Singar” contest, judged by eminent composers Ravindra Jain and Jaidev. Jain gave Wadkar his first song, Sona kare jhilmil jhilmil in the film Paheli (1977), a duet with Hemlata. Wadkar was introduced to Lata Mangeshkar by Jain. She took keen interest in him.
Seene mein jalan was extremely well received and it made everyone take notice of Wadkar. After the film was released, Lata Mangeshkar called him over, and in his presence made phone calls to RD Burman, Laxmikant Pyarelal, Kalyanji-Anandji saying “Mein ek ladke ko bhej rahi hoon aapke paas. Aap usko sun lijiye.” I am sending a young man to you. Please listen to him. Laxmikant Pyarelal introduced Wadkar to Raj Kapoor who was very impressed with him to such an extent that Raj Kapoor said, “As long as I make films, male playback will be Suresh Wadkar and female playback will be Lata Mangeshkar.”
With Gaman, Jaidev also introduced Hariharan, and Chhaya Ganguly. Jaidev won the National Award for Best Music Direction, his second. Chhaya Ganguly won the National Award for Best Female Playback Singer for her song Aapki yaad aati rahi from Gaman.
Suresh Wadkar singing this song in a live performance.
Singer: Suresh Wadkar
Music: Jaidev
Lyrics: Shahryar
*ing: Farooq Shaikh
Director: Muzaffar Ali
Film: Gaman (1978)