A common popular theme on the blog land is to put up a variety of favourite lists, such as ‘My ten favourite ??? songs’. This could be on a person (Mukesh, Naushad, Dev Anand etc) or a theme (birthday, holi, wedding etc.) or an object (train, rain, tonga etc.) Some creative bloggers have come up with very unusual lists, such as songs based on birds (koel, mor, papiha etc) and flowers (kamal, chameli, gulab etc). I was certain people would have done songs based on zulf (hair, or more accurately a woman’s tresses), which occurs so prominently in our songs. I have not come across any so far, which is quite surprising. So let me try to fill up this gap.
A tribute on his passing away
I saw a small news item tucked away deep inside the Times of India’s today’s edition stating that music director Daan Singh passed away at his Jaipur home of liver ailment at the age of 78 on Saturday June 18. If you are not a keen reader or aware of Daan Singh’s music you are quite likely to have missed the news item.
He was one of the most neglected music directors of Hindi films, yet he composed some everlasting melodies for Mukesh. The paper also quotes Nitin Mukesh offering profuse praise for him.
Today Songs of Yore completes one year, and like any new born in its first year, it has looked at the beautiful world of old Hindi film music with wonder and amazement, flitting its gaze from one beautiful sight to another spontaneously and randomly.
My articles so far have been on themes which were on top of my recall and on features I found most interesting.
Best love songs of Vintage Era
I have been in the New Theatres mood since I wrote my last post on Pankaj Mullick. BN Sircar established New Theatres in Calcutta in 1931, i.e. the same year the first talkie Alam Ara was released in Bombay. Music has been an integral part and a defining feature of our films ever since. And so it has been with the New Theatres as well. It is also not surprising that love has been the dominant theme of our songs. But the New Theatres took love to entirely unexpected heights. It was not merely a matter of semantics that pyar, mohabbat, ishq for them was Prem or Preet. It also denoted for them something deeply spiritual, other-worldly and supremely blissful.
A tribute on his birthday May 10
I became seriously acquainted with Pankaj Mullick several years after I had thoroughly absorbed KL Saigal. This would probably be the normal sequence for any non-Bengalee what with Saigal having acquired an iconic status, and generations of listeners having grown on a Saigal song every morning at 7.57 AM which would be the last song on Radio Ceylon’s programme Bhoole Bisre Geet.
The trigger point was an evening dinner gathering of friends when Chakko (short for Chakravarty, that was his name) sang Ye raatein ye mausam ye hansnaa hansaanaa. The impact on me was mesmerizing. Chakko was by no means a professional singer, it was one of those gatherings where everyone sings, some being a little better than others. Soon after I came across an LP of his songs, which not surprisingly had this song at the top. Coming to the internet age I heard many more of his songs, both films and non-films, in Hindi and Bengalee, and became more aware of the vast world of beautiful gems of Pankaj Mullick beyond Piya milan ko jana (which seemed to be the only song played in the radio days).
I would have written on Jagjit Kaur at some uncertain time in future. That I am doing it now owes it to my friend Subodh Agrawal, a regular visitor to my blog. His glowing reference to Jagjit Kaur in my last blog on Subir Sen touched a chord in me – I am also a huge fan of her songs. I also realized this was the right time when I was on minor singers like Kamal Barot and Subir Sen.
When I did a post on Kamal Barot it was natural that I should do one on Subir Sen as well. One connection between the two was that among the most famous Kamal Barot songs is a duet with Subir Sen Dil le ke jate ho kahan. Another similarity would be that he was also not among the top singers. But there was a vital difference between the two. While Kamal Barot had a distinct voice which you could recognise miles away, Subir Sen’s was indistinguishable from Hemant Kumar. Not much biographical detail is available about him except that he was also like Hemant Kumar a popular and prolific singer in Bengali. Many of his Hindi film songs are quite well known, but unless you know that he was the singer, you might attribute them to Hemant Kumar.
‘She’ ne khela ‘he’ se aaj cricket match
When the entire country is caught in the frenzy of the One-day Cricket World Cup, I get to hear today a fun song on cricket from the film Love Marriage (1959). It is surprising I had not heard this song before. Had Vividh Bharti kept it on hold to play before the final match between India and Sri Lanka at Mumbai on April 2, 2011?
Dev Anand is the debonair cricketer on the field. Among the spectators is Mala Sinha who is surprised to see him as the star player of the opposite team. Dev Anand bugged her no end as she was persuaded into taking him as her flat mate when she was looking for a female house mate to share her rent. And as you could have guessed he rains fours and sixes taking his team to victory, and in the process winning the heart of the hostile heroine. In the after-match dancing and singing of this song amidst his admiring cronies and a giggling gang of girls, including by-now-bowled-over Mala Sinha, seeking his autographs, he proclaims with unconcealed glee क्रिकेट में तो जीत गए पर हारे प्यार का मैच.
When I started this blog I had not thought I would be ever writing about Kamal Barot. She was not one of the biggies like Lata Mangeshkar or Asha Bhosle. She was not one of the smallies who gave at least a couple of immortal songs which you instantly recall – in this category I can think of Mubarak Begum’s Kabhi tanhaaiyon mein yun hamari yaad ayegi from Hamari Yaad Ayegi (1961) or Jagjit Kaur’s Tum apna ranj-o-gham apni pareshaani mujhe de do and Gori sasural chali from Shagun (1964). She did figure though in a large number of hit songs as one of the voices in a duet or a treblet or a multiplet (purists will pardon my freewheeling coining of new words), but none that you could solely associate with Kamal Barot.
Humse nain milana BA pass kar ke
Commuting to your office could be a pain, but if your driver’s musical taste goes back to the Golden Era, ranging from Mukesh to Hemant Kumar to Talat Mehmood to Shamshad Begum to Suraiya, you look forward to the drive; the traffic jam is no longer an irritant, in fact it only lets you linger over the melodies a little longer.
I had become accustomed to these melodies playing on the car stereo. One day it was the turn of Shamshad Begum. After the familiar Kabhi aar kabhi paar, Saiyan dil mein ana re, Chandni ayee ban ke pyar, Kahe koel shor machaye re etc, I was struck by a very peppy, very light hearted number Humse nain milana BA pass kar ke.
A common popular theme on the blog land is to put up a variety of favourite lists, such as ‘My ten favourite ??? songs’. This could be on a person (Mukesh, Naushad, Dev Anand etc) or a theme (birthday, holi, wedding etc.) or an object (train, rain, tonga etc.) Some creative bloggers have come up with very unusual lists, such as songs based on birds (koel, mor, papiha etc) and flowers (kamal, chameli, gulab etc). I was certain people would have done songs based on zulf (hair, or more accurately a woman’s tresses), which occurs so prominently in our songs. I have not come across any so far, which is quite surprising. So let me try to fill up this gap.
