Thursday, April 26, 2007
Debonair detectives and seductive Bharatanatyam dancers
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Potential spoilers ahead. Images courtesy Google image search. All song titles are linked to their audio files on MusicIndiaOnline and will open in a new popup window using the MIO player. If you don’t like popups, don’t click on the links.
A boy and a girl are sharing a sweet, mushy moment. Let’s call them Dev and Gina for the sake of the story. He holds her hand, she blushes and pulls her hand away, giggling. This goes on for a while, seeing as neither of them is in a rush for the moment to end. Eventually, the girl overcomes her shyness and looks at him. Their eyes meet, and without the need for words, they signal their feelings to each other. But alas. At that instant, a giant gust of wind throws them into a spin, and when the dust settles, the boy finds himself in the middle of a vast expanse of desert. There’s no girl in sight. Just him and lots and lots of sand.
If this cinematic moment had to be captured in song, which one would it be? Aakhon hi aakhon mein ishaara ho gaya, baiThe baiThe Gine ka Sahara ho gaya .. Yes, all the gushing and blushing was just a distractionary tactic. I know, I know. I deserve to have heavy objects thrown at me. But to be fair, I did not make that one up. No really, I promise. Laung ke tel waala. It is an old-favorite that I learnt in my college days. (No, believe it or not, I did not go to school to learn PJs.) But it has withstood the test of time and continues to pull in the groans like few others can. Our movie today is much like that. An old favorite. But without the groans.
While Guru Dutt’s musical collaboration with S D Burman is unforgettable in Baazi (1951), Pyaasa (1957) and Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959), the trio of classics that came out of Dutt’s association with O P Nayyar, are no less memorable — as actor, producer and director in Aar Paar (1954) and Mr and Mrs 55 (1955) and as producer in CID (1956).
CID is often mentioned amongst the best of the black-and-whites of Bollywood. Produced by Dutt for his protegé and assistant Raj Khosla, CID came from a period of Hindi cinema that was heavily influenced by film noir of Hollywood. Shades of Dutt can surely be found in Khosla’s CID. The focus on the actor’s eyes, dramatic chiaroscuro lighting, wet roads at night, backlighting characters as they smoked .. all noir-isms that were Dutt trademarks. Another factor common to Dutt was V K Murthy, the brilliant cinematographer who was working with Dutt for the fifth film here and went on to film classics like Pyaasa (1957), Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959) and Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962).
Khosla however, soon grew out of Dutt’s shadow and went on to be a versatile moviemaker of his times. He touched upon a variety of genres — romantic musicals like Ek Musafir Ek Hasina (1962), crime thrillers like Kaala Pani (1958), dacoit dramas like Mera Gaon Mera Desh (1971) and the unforgettable trilogy-of-sorts with Sadhna — Woh Kaun Thi (1964), Mera Saaya (1966) and Anita (1967). But CID remains what Khosla is most remembered for.
While Aar Paar (1954) had Shyama as the heroine, Shakila is more remembered for her smaller vamp role. With CID, Shakila graduated to a heroine, but history repeated itself. A flamboyant Dev Anand, a glamorous Shakila, a sinister K N Singh, and Johnny Walker in fine comedic form, but the person who outshone them all in a brilliant debut as a vamp, was Waheeda Rehman. Singing kahin pe nigaahen kahin pe nishaana in Shamshad Begum’s voice, she dances with her eyes and her feet as she seduces the audience and villain both, warning the hero of the impending danger and hinting at his escape route. In the room hangs a painting of a woman with long hair, behind which is a lever for a trap door. Through song, she tells him —
aaya shikaarii o panchhii tu sambhal jaa
ek jaal hai zulfon kaa tu chupke se nikal jaa
ud jaa O panchhi, shikaarii hai deewaanaa ..
The classically trained Waheeda started out in Telugu films (remember eruvaakaa saagaaloyi from Rojulu Marayi (1955)?), but after CID there was no looking back for her in Hindi cinema. CID also has the brilliant and incomparable Mehmood in his first role of significant length. As Sher Singh, the killer hired to bump off the newspaper editor, which in turn starts up the investigation that forms the plot of the film, Mehmood was finally noticed. And lastly, here’s a bit of fun trivia — most movie watchers are familiar with Jagdish Raj, the resident police inspector of more than a hundred movies. CID happens to be the *first* movie he played inspector in. Neat, eh?
By the time CID came around, O P Nayyar was a known name. First with Aar Paar (1954) and then Mr and Mrs 55 (1955), this ‘westernized’ composer had established that he was here to stay. He was a colorful personality outside of his music, as well. Obstinate about doing things his way and willing to make enemies for it.
CID is arguably one of OPN’s best, every song a memorable gem and a huge hit. Besides kahin pe nigahein, there is the perpetual Chitrahaar favorite, leke pehla pehla pyaar, a whopping six-antara song, that appears in two places in the movie. Asha Bhosle sings the first three antaras, picturized on a boo-hoo Shakila missing her Dev. But the last three antaras are the high point. Sung by Shamshad and Mohd Rafi and picturized on some street singers, with Dev walking behind Shakila with the express purpose of annoying her. She realizes of course, like every heroine before and after her, the futility of rebuffing the advances of a Hindi movie hero and breaks into a smile in the end. Just then Shamshad’s infectiously playful voice sings —
sun sun baatein terii gorii muskaaii re
aaii aaii dekho dekho aaii hansii aaii re ..
A much more charming version of the hansii to phansii concept, methinks. Then there’s the effervescent Geeta Dutt-Rafi duet aankhon hi aankhon mein ishaara ho gaya (and thus the perfect chance to reminisce about the PJ). Both songs have the OPN trademark of using identical interludes between the antaras. Shamshad’s chirpy boojh mera kya naam re starts off with a slow violin solo but breaks into glee soon after. And there’s the sensual Geeta sung jaata kahaan hai deewane, which doesn’t make an appearance in the movie, since the censor board found its lyrics to be too risqué!
But think CID and the song that comes to mind more than any other, is the quintessential ode to Bombay immortalized by Johnny Walker on screen ae dil hai mushkil jeena yahaan, (nicely channeling O my darling Clementine) with Majrooh’s words that still echo true —
kahiin building kahiin traamein, kahiin motor kahiin mill
miltaa hai yahaan sab kuchh ik miltaa nahiin dil
insaan kaa nahiin kahiin naam-o-nishaan
zara hatke, zara bachke, ye hai Bambai meri jaan!
Hey, I read your last post a little late and since you already had loads of suggestions by then, I decided to keep quiet.
I saw CID in July, 1987 and don’t remember anything other than the songs. Maybe I should watch it again. I also think of “Yeh Hai Bombay Meri Jaan” when I think of CID.
Nice trivia, btw :)
The censor board found “Jaata Kahaan Hai Deewane” risqué? Amazing!! :)
Though I have seen lots of b/w movies and am familiar with most big actors of the ’50s, I don’t know much about Shakila. But then she wasn’t that big, was she?
Thursday, April 26, 2007 @ 1:53 AM
“Aakhon hi aakhon mein ishaara ho gaya, baiThe baiThe Gine ka Sahara ho gaya ” Jeeeezus Christ!! woman! I’m sure you made it up! :P your laung ka tel promise not withstanding! own up!
Thursday, April 26, 2007 @ 2:25 AM
I should bookmark this post. And find a decent print of ‘CID’.
Good work. Kudos (or perhaps ONE Very Large Kudo?)
J.A.P.
Thursday, April 26, 2007 @ 4:52 AM
PJs at the beginning of blogs are painful. Early morning PJs are even more so. urrrgghh!
OPN weaved magic in these movies. He was one of the reasons why I loved Hindi songs and black and white movies.
Haven’t seen Anita.
Thursday, April 26, 2007 @ 8:52 AM
Megha,
You are a Gem and this CID post is super gem! You know what - I was a silent reader of your blogs so far but this post has forced me to put my comments - nope - golden showers here :).
Keep it up and now that you have come up with such a nice piece, I am expecting a lot more such posts.
Sam
Thursday, April 26, 2007 @ 9:41 AM
Absolutely delighted to read this… a post of a kind to which only you can do the best justice!
Thursday, April 26, 2007 @ 1:08 PM
That “Sahara” PJ is awesome wonly. I likey!
And my my such beautiful memories reading this post … The first time I was introduced to “yeh hai bambai” song was by my aunt and I am eternally grateful to her for that. She gifted me Binaca Geet Mala (I think vol.1 not sure) audio cassette - and yes of course the voice of the legendary radio host Ameen Sayani… Ceylon Radio… oh boy such sweet memories …
:’) Thanks
(P.S. I think the song from Rojulu Maarayi is “Eruvaaka Saagaaro” )
Thursday, April 26, 2007 @ 1:43 PM
Wow! So I am not the only crazy person in love with oldies! People have always seen me with suspicious when I start raving about O.P. Nayyar or Shamshad Begum. Who appreciates S.D. Burman when R.D. is such a big craze?
Kudos to you for such a great post! Oh you gave me eternal happiness…
Thursday, April 26, 2007 @ 3:07 PM
This post was a real pain in the neck… Nooo. Don’t take me wrong here.. I was nodding in agreement with every line of the post and by the time I reached the end, I realised that my neck was aching due to all the vigourous nodding. :D Pliss put warning of physical damage to self also before the beginning of such posts..
Jokes apart, the post brought a lot of memories. The times when we had only a radio to listen to all the oldie-goldies. Although I haven’t watched a lot of these old movies, I do love their music.. Minimal orchestration and heavy dependency on the singer’s voice really brought out the melody in all these songs. Thankoo ma’am for re-creating all that magic.. Was delighted.. :)
And yes, the Sahara joke was wicked.. very wicked.. :D
Keep Inking.. :)
Thanks,
Ganga
Thursday, April 26, 2007 @ 4:33 PM
Loved this..
…but for a teensy quibble. Its not Majrooh but Jaan Nissar Akhtar who wrote Ae dil.
While Majrooh has us in swoons too, could one give a farmaish for Sahir?
Pretty please, with a cherry on the top, huhn?
Friday, April 27, 2007 @ 10:21 AM
lovely and yamagazing
Saturday, April 28, 2007 @ 5:00 AM
A post full of memories and PJs. Don’t know whether to sigh or groan. One thing is for sure, Megha is back with a vengeance. It remains to be seen whether it’s a good thing. A few more PJs like that and we will be walking around dazed, looking for Sahara ( both the Hindi one and the geographical one). I have always loved OPN not just for his music, but for his distinctive attitude as well. He always did things his way and proved many people wrong. Just read a great article about him a few weeks ago and now this. Thank you Megha and do write something about Pyasa.
BTW if you liked the movie, “Mr. and Mrs. 55 ” , do watch the James Stewart movie it was based on ” Come Live With Me “
Saturday, April 28, 2007 @ 5:54 AM
Hi Megha,
This post is a bit out of league for me I guess. I can only vaguely figure out some of the things mentioned. Well, I will wait for the next post !. You seem to have a super memory…and its as if you lived through all the times mentioned in the post …and reborn.
PS: I posted some more pictures since you last saw them. I am still on the lookout for the ‘dark’ version of the candles picture you wanted to see…just cannot find it.
Sunday, April 29, 2007 @ 5:37 PM
Nice memories this neat post brings back. I remember the songs (the sahara one and ae dil hai mushkil jeena yahaan) being played on DD quite a bit in the mornings (a 15 minutes song show, can’t remember the name) and in chitrahaars. I remember Aamir Khan saying (way back in QSQT days) in an interview that Guru Dutt , if alive, would have been the first Indian to win multiple Oscars with his talent. I used to love his movies for the photography and the screenplay and the subtle emotions. Probably the only director who is not touched by bollywood stereotype filmmaking. Coming to the music, could you throw some light on why OPN never worked with Lata and the story behind it (if there is any). Fantastic start to a great series. All nostalgia happening.
Monday, April 30, 2007 @ 12:08 AM
After commenting on its announcement, I realized that your series would be dealing with some monumental expectations. You not only meet them but easily surpass them with this fascinating trip into the black-and-white era.
The piece is an excellent read (in my humble opinion). It wonderfully combines the objective, measured and informative voice of a movie journalist with the infectious, wide-eyed enthusiasm of a movie-(and music-)lover. The clear and lucid manner in which you describe the influence of Guru Dutt on the movie, is complemented beautifully by your joy in describing the setting of the last three antaras of leke pehla pehla pyaar (those lines are indeed remarkably charming). Whether it be because of the fun trivia or elaborately set up PJs (I can’t help but smile when I hum aankhon hi aankhon mein now), the smile never leaves one’s face. I also love how the lyric-segments and images interspersed with the text do a wonderful job of recreating the mood of the era. Lastly, thanks a bunch for the links to MIO.
Now that I’ve succeeded in doing my best impression of a wonder-struck admirer, I’d like to ask you something. (Disclaimer: My music-knowledge is poorer than my ability to write concise comments and I apologise if the questions are stupid.) You mentioned that using identical interludes was an OPN trademark. How about the relative shortness of the interludes? Is that an OPN trademark too or just something that this album had? I was struck by how short leke pehla pehla pyaar is, despite the number of antaras, and realized that this was true of the other songs from the movie as well. As someone who likes his songs with a lot of lyrics (and his bhaji with lots of pav, but that’s for when you write about food), I simply loved this. Also, I’m curious to know if any other MDs like(d) to use short interludes.
A line I loved from the music of the movie (from leke pehla pehla pyaar) -
A line I loved from the post -
Monday, April 30, 2007 @ 12:49 AM
[Sudo Nimus]
Wow! That was a very nice “review” of the review.:) Have you ever considered blogging! You write so well!
Monday, April 30, 2007 @ 1:18 AM
Excellent post (though must say some of the stuff went off at tangents to my brain). Took me back to my school days, when after school I would be having parathas listening to Vividh Bharti. Vividh Bharti was a pre-requisite for cooking for mom. Remember that the ae dil hai mushkil jeena yahaan song was quite popular and also that the host had a voice that was well “distinctive“.
By the way the stuff about Gina and Dev, what can we say except that our co-workers are almost to the point of sending me off to the Sahara without any H to O .
A much more charming version of the hansii to phansii concept, methinks –> Charming interpretation of the song eh….
Monday, April 30, 2007 @ 11:15 AM
Apologies for the lack of reponse since a few days. And double apologies for the length of this response. I guess I could say I made up for the first with the second :) Sorry I got a leeetil carried away!
[Raj] That’s quite a memory you have to remember the precise month and year you watched CID in :) Yes, the story goes that jaata kahaan hai deewaane was considered unacceptable cos of the fi-fi lines - kuchh tere dil mein fi-fi, kuchh mere dil mein fi-fi, zamaana hai bura .. the possibilities of what fi-fi might be alluding to, made the censor board nervous. And yes, Shakila was mostly a B-grade heroine except for a handful of relatively big movies - Shriman Satyawadi (1960) with Raj Kapoor and China Town (1962) with Shammi Kapoor (which incidentally is a kinda-sorta early version of Don (1978)) are the two big ones that come to mind. She quit films, married an Afghani or German chap and left the country after that, I think.
[shub] Arrey! It really is not my creation! I take my clove oil promises very seriously, you know :) Bharosa rakho bharosa!
[JAP] Thankoo thankoo! Glad you liked. And yes, pliss to see movie. Then maybe you can give us an extra kudo and I can sing kudon ka hai zamaana or something.
[munimma] Ayyo, sorry. I think PJs are always better at the beginning than the end. The flood of words that follow, are useful to drown your pain in.
Anita is the weakest of the trilogy, I think. Don’t remember too much of the movie but remember not being impressed. Maybe I was too young. My favorite of the three remains Woh Kaun Thi (1964). Still get the chills when I think of the car in the rain at the start of the movie. The wipers stop working when Sadhna gets in .. Manoj Kumar sees her finger bleeding and asks her about it. She replies - mujhe khoon achha lagta hai. He realizes the merit of not asking questions after that. They reach a graveyard. She gets down and disappears into the mist. Naina barse rimjhim rimjhim begins in the background as the titles flash - Woh Kaun Thi?
Abbaa, I talk too much.
[Sam] Yayy! You delurked! Thank you for your kind words and glad you liked the post. And now that you have commented, please make it more of a habit :)
[scorpigle] Thank you. Very flattered! :)
[Mythili] Thankoo :) Ooh yes! Who can forget about Binaca/Cibaca Geet Mala and Ameen Sayani! My parents were huge fans of the show back when we lived in Bombay. I was too young to have live memories from then, but listening to taped recordings of the show, are some of my earliest recollections of childhood. Many years later, I was a persistent Hyderabadi high-schooler who diligently tuned into a very crackly Radio Ceylon station. Monday nights at 8, I think? And then there was Hawa Mahal, a program I don’t know anything about, but whose title music is permanently imprinted on my mind because it always followed BGM. (Different station? Vividh Bharati perhaps?) Ting-ting ting-ting ting .. ting-ting ting-ting ting .. poo poo pooooooo, it went. Thank you for bringing back fond memories of Radio Ceylon!
ps .. Oops. As you can see, my Telugu is much weaker than my Hindi :) Thankoo for the correction!
[Richa] No no, you are absolutely at the right blog if you are an oldies fan :)
RDB’s music was no doubt the hottest thing that happened in the 70s, but the RDB craze wasn’t always a craze. In the 80s, when RDB was still alive, a number of his melodies lay languishing in oblivion. Good music composed for movies that were turkeys and hence were doomed from the start. But as with a lot of underappreciated geniuses, recognition came to him after his death. 1942 - A Love Story (1993) released just around when RDB died, and suddenly the whole nation was humming ik ladki ko dekha to aisa lagaa. People who didn’t know or care about who RDB was until then, were now claiming to be his fans. It became the ‘cool’ and ‘in’ thing to be an RDB fan. If only these fans existed before, he wouldn’t have died such an unhappy man, perhaps.
But coming back to RDB/SDB - the love for their music doesn’t have to be a mutually exclusive thing. I think the father and son brought completely different talents and strengths to Hindi film music and neither of their contribution is any lesser. While SDB’s strength was simplicity and melody and an inherent ‘Indian-ness’, RDB built upon it and took it much further. One finds his father’s simplicity in his melodies, but can also see his genius in his interludes, his arrangements, his use of the rhythm section, his usage of non-Indian instruments while retaining the ‘Indian-ness’, his choice of singers and so on. In fact, the soundtracks by SDB where RDB assisted him are distinctly different from early SDB. In some ways, they bring together the best of the father and the son’s styles - Tere Ghar Ke Saamne (1963), Guide (1965), Jewel Thief (1967), Aradhana (1969), Prem Pujari (1970) .. this is the kind of output we were blessed with when SDB composed and RDB arranged. Pure bliss!
[Gangadhar] Aw, thank you! Will add that disclaimer next time :) Glad it brought back a lot of memories for you. Writing the post did the same for me, so the pleasure is entirely mine!
[ohon] Glad you liked. Although I must correct your correction :) Majrooh is the one who wrote ae dil hai mushkil jeena yahaan. In fact, Jaan Nisaar Akhtar is only credited with aakhon hi aakhon mein ishaara ho gaya. The rest of the songs of CID were all done by Majrooh. And yes, absolutely. The Sahir farmaish shall be addressed.You have a specific movie in mind?
[paddy] Thank you! :)
[Amol] Thank you. Glad you liked it. I admire OPN for proving to the music world that Lata was not necessary for a music director to make it big. And for it resulting in bringing out an Asha that we would have otherwise not seen.
[Bhanu]
Ooh! I now have this image of a mist-filled and moss-covered puraani haveli full of rooms and rooms of music, and me in a flowing white outfit, holding a lone flickering lamp, walking from room to room singing some old haunting melody like aayegaa aanewaala. All in black and white, of course! But no seriously, I do remember the oddest of details, what can I say. As I was remarking to a friend the other day - I know I remember these things, but I have no idea how they got into my head in the first place! My memory freaks me out, sometimes :|
ps .. The tulip pictures are fabulous! You are incredibly lucky to have been in Keukenhof at the right time of the year and incredibly talented to have captured their beauty in such wonderful pictures! Kudos!
[gvenum] The story behind why OPN did not work with Lata is not clear even today. It was a topic that both OPN and Lata remained tight-lipped about, decades later. The rumor mills state that Lata fell sick and did not show up for a recording once and OPN took offense. However OPN says that he never had a fight with her, just that her voice was ‘unsuitable’ for his compositions, so he used other singers. Lata also says that they never fought, just that they never had an opportunity to work together. So who knows :)
Did not know about the Aamir Khan comment about Guru Dutt. Thank you for sharing. And are you thinking of Rangoli on Sunday mornings, by any chance? That is where I remember watching a large number of blurry black-and-white songs from. Why blurry? Cos mom would be furiously massaging coconut oil into my hair while I tried to focus on the TV in front of me :)
[Sudo Nimus] Thank you, thank you, thank you, and a huuuge thank you. Your comment made my day and my week. Very very flattered. (Total road-roller went over me types.) Thank you ever so much for your kind and gracious words about my writing. A day will come when the world will be begging me to stop writing the nonsense I write. But encouraged by your kind egging, I shall relentlessly continue. If that day, the people of the world line up outside your window and pelt you with freshly-baked paavs, (because of which you will no longer be able to sing aaj kal paav zameen par nahin padte mere) don’t blame me. I’m just saying, is all.
Now for your excellent questions! (And please, this is a blog where cracks in mirrors and lou puddles are discussed. Does it look like anything can be considered stupid here?) Identical interludes is, to my knowledge, a very OPN thing. Having said that, I am pretty sure songs by other composers exist that have the same trait. (Oddly, I cannot think of any examples now. Can anyone suggest any?) But OPN did it often enough that it became an OPN-ism, I guess.
As for the relative shortness of interludes, here’s what I think is the reason. (Although I am no expert on the matter.) It is a feature of music from the 40s and 50s when music was released on 45rpm EP (Extended Play) records. These records had an approximate playing time of 20 minutes, so movies on an average could have five songs, each about four minutes long. The arrival of 33rpm LP (Long Play) records in the early 60s (Jis Desh Mein Ganga Behti Hai (1960) may have been the first LP? Not sure, will have to check.) with approximate playing time of 40 minutes changed things. Songs grew in length, but the increase was mostly in interlude length, and not in the addition of antaras. Even with these longer songs, shorter versions with edited interludes, existed. AIR usually played these versions, to accomodate more songs within a half-hour program segment.
Hope that overdose of information answers your questions :)
[nightwatchmen] Ooh yum. Parathas and Vividh Bharati. What an awesome combination! The best food memory I have associated with the radio, is of hot summer weekend afternoons spent eating mangoes post-lunch, while sitting on porches and balconies with jute chilmans to protect us from the direct sun .. and licking ripe orange fingers while listening to Fauji bhaaiyyon ke liye Vishesh Jaimala. Sigh. And oh. Apologies to your co-workers, but none for you. (You read this blog by choice and all and have come to expect such nonsense, one would think.) Glad you liked post and interpretation, both :)
Monday, April 30, 2007 @ 7:22 PM
This Gina/Sahara thing was inflicted on me once before! Right here in this commentspace! Nice to see it become part of a full-fledged post. I didnt like being the only one suffering last time around.
Brilliant post, to say the least. RK, I always thought was a GENIUS moviemaker. I could not agree more with the admiration for the opening scenes in Woh Kaun Thi…it freaked me out when I saw it the first time. “Tum kaun ho?” “Koi nahin…” “Kahan jaana hai?” “Kahin nahin…” and the blood and the fog and Lata’s voice singing Naina Barse with bats squeaking in the background as she walks into the mist in the graveyard….God, outstanding mindblowing cinema. To be honest though, I thought most people I know haven’t seen enough of his movies. Agreed, Anita wasnt such a big deal, but Bambai ka Babu (a movie with incestuous overtones about a man who falls in love with someone who turns out to be his sister! - wonder what the censor board would do about movies like that today…) was pathbreaking. So was Solva Saal (the whole movie set in one night about a girl who elopes with her lover, only to get duped by him, and her meeting with a journalist who agrees to help her get back home before her father wakes up in the morning) .
Loved CID. LOVED ae dil, hai mushkil. Grew up in Bombay, am very passionate about the city and love the irreverance and irony which pervades the song. But above all, I thought Waheeda Rehman proved even more here than in, say Guide, why she is considered such a good actress. She stole the show; when she wasn’t even the main lead!
It’s good to be back here, I haven’t been in a while, and clearly I have some catching up to do!
Monday, April 30, 2007 @ 10:14 PM
njjjjjjjkljklj
Monday, April 30, 2007 @ 10:50 PM
Today is the day of loooong comment responses, it seems!
[Nandu] Really? Me? Inflicted nasty PJ? In this commentspace, you say? Hmm, that is so very hard to believe :)
Ooh yes, how did I not think about Bambai Ka Babu (1960)! Was based on a novel by Rajinder Singh Bedi (of Ek Chadar Maili Si fame) which in turn was based on an O’Henry story, I hear? I remember reading about this a long time ago, so maybe I’m mixing up movies and books. But yes, a very daring theme for a film of its times.
Another Raj Khosla movie that I quite liked, although from a completely different time, was Sunny (1984), starring Sunny Deol and Amrita Singh. Deals with the Devaki/Yashoda, birth-mother/adoptive-mother theme, albeit in a pure Hindi masala movie way, with Waheeda Rehman and Sharmila Tagore playing the two mothers. Has wonderful music by R D Burman, with that lovely Lata number jaane kya baat hai, neend nahin aati, badi lambi raat hai and that Asha and Suresh Wadkar tandem ghazal(?) - aur kya ahd-e-wafaa hote hain, log milte hain judaa hote hain.
To add to the trivia, the exact same plot was reused in another movie in the same year - Zameen Aasmaan (1984), directed by Bharat Rangachary. Who be he? He is a chap who started out as an assistant to Hrishikesh Mukherjee, working with him on films like Golmaal (1979), Jurmana (1979), Khubsoorat (1980) and Naram Garam (1981). Also went on to make the controversial and short-lived TV serial Subah on drug addiction. ZA, starring Sunjay Dutt and Anita Raj, had Rakhee and Rekha as the two mothers. This movie too has music by R D Burman, with some lovely songs - the fabulous and little-known Lata number, aisa samaa na hotaa and the racy upbeat Kishore sung mano mano ya na mano meri jaan to name a few. Boy, that’s a lot of tangents I went on!
Indeed, irony is all over ae dil hai mushkil. A friend recently remarked about the line I quoted in the post - insaan kaa nahiin kahiin naam-o-nishaan - about how beautiful the irony was. A city that is a sea of humanity, and yet there is no sign of humanity. Lovely observation, methinks.
[A Grandmother Mouse] I hope you will be supplying the decoder for that?
Tuesday, May 1, 2007 @ 12:53 AM
Meghaji dheere chalna
pyar maeaeein zara sambhulna
haaaan bade dhoke hain
bade dhoke hain is rah main
just gotta love me some geeta dutt.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007 @ 2:25 AM
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Tuesday, May 1, 2007 @ 9:53 AM
[hidden rustom] Hmm. I guess Geeta Dutt will sing (from the right movie, this time) -
[a] Thank you for bringing the Flickr issue to my notice! Have fixed it now. Pliss to confirm?
Tuesday, May 1, 2007 @ 12:55 PM
“Aaj kal paav” .. Ooh that was wicked ! This deserves a seperate post ! How about a Ghar post ?
Tuesday, May 1, 2007 @ 7:22 PM
[bloghopper] Ayyo. If I turned each of my PJs into a separate post, mayhem will ensue and my effigies will be burnt. Worse, there will be ‘Wanted’ posters of me, on which people will come and gleefully paint unattractive curly moustaches and blackened teeth. And so, to avoid this distasteful sequence of events, I hide the PJs in the commentspace.
Yes yes yes to Ghar! :)
Tuesday, May 1, 2007 @ 11:20 PM
[gvenum] Thanks a lot! It’s very kind of you to say that. As for a blog, one of these days I might decide to go live with one. :)
[Megha] The pleasure, I assure you, is entirely mine (had an eerie thought of how Gollum would respond to being thanked, “Myyyyy pleasssssure!”). I have (and I’m sure many others have as well) read your post multiple times and not only does your writing wow the reader the first time, it also gets better with multiple reads.
I’m delighted to know that my egging has disaster-prevention abilities. Though, in the interests of fairness, I should point out that anyone asking you to stop writing will also be egged by me. I’m fairly certain that I won’t be alone in this endeavor. As for having my window be pelted with freshly-baked paavs, all I can do is reprise a line you once mentioned in this commentspace - “goodness and ask ask?” :)
Thanks a bunch for the answers (though I would like to officially register an “ouch” each (oucheech?) on my behalf and Anantha’s). Very cool stuff. Also, loved your responses to some of the other comments, especially the one where you talked about the output generated by RDB and SDB working together. That’s a brilliant collection of albums and I was especially kicked to see Tere Ghar Ke Saamne there. One of my all-time favorites, both for the movie and the music.
Lastly, something I forgot to do in the earlier comment - thanks for quoting lines from ae dil hai mushkil. It ensured that I was left with goosebumps at the end of your post. I love the song, especially the line that goes, bura duniya ko hai kehta, aisa bhola toh na ban. A very admirable sentiment, in my opinion.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007 @ 3:39 PM
[Sudo Nimus]
(This innocent tuna sandwich calls the world brown ..)
Indeed. Lovely line, it is. As you can see, one has remembered it for all the wrong reasons, but setting those aside, ae dil hai mushkil is peppered with so many little gems. I love the reference to hypocrisy in the other lines too -
Tere Ghar Ke Saamne is a favorite movie and soundtrack of mine too. I’d like to do a post on it (and on Vijay Anand) one of these days. But before that, I have a long list of movies that my readers have asked that I write about and I don’t want to invoke their ire or their bakery products upon my head. So TGKS will come later :) As it is, after that threat of being egged, my detractors are probably scrambling for cover. So I better be nice to my readers, at least.
And baap re! That is some memory you have! Goodness and ask ask was a high school favorite but it seems like everyone and their uncle uses it today. So have started to gravitate towards a more recent creation - neck and tail tail. One is most pleased with it. Two is however, warming up to it a bit slowly.
Thursday, May 3, 2007 @ 2:20 PM
Priceless translation! Very nicely done. (For the longest time I did not know the hindi word for brown. I guess I thought “birown” covered it. I would also wonder when a hero talked about the heroine’s bhure bhure baal, why she did not just smack him across the face.)
Love the lines you quoted as well. And I totally understand about the long list of movies that you’ve been requested to write about, not to mention movies on your own list that you want to write about. I realize that is a lot of movies and I’m not expecting you to get to TGKS anytime soon. But whenever you do, you will have at least one reader pleased as punch. For now, that reader is pleased as saade-chaar to find out that the movie is one of your favorites too and is excited (as no number in particular) at the prospect of you writing about some of the wonderful movies requested by your readers and the ones on your list as well.
Your detractors should probably meet up with those paav-pelters lining up outside my window. They can discuss the objects of their respective hatreds, get rid of them (the hatreds, not the objects), become tractors(?) and make bhurji-paav together. (And I’ll cut out the bad jokes now).
I like neck and tail tail. I hope two warms up soon enough, and seventeen doesn’t get annoyed waiting her turn while two takes its own sweet time.
Friday, May 4, 2007 @ 3:03 PM
Which is the next movie?
Monday, May 7, 2007 @ 8:38 PM
Actually, the Rojulu Maarayi song goes Eruvaakaa saagaalo ranno, chinnannaa. Apologies for butting in late with that.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007 @ 6:12 AM
Lalita ji -
Thanks for correcting me. Much honored. So does “eruvaaka” here mean river or irrigation? I thought it meant a place .. as in may be a more fertlie area named “Eruvaaka” and the singer is actually suggesting the villagers ( I think) to move to that place named “Eruvaaka” ?
Wednesday, May 9, 2007 @ 2:59 PM
[Sudo Nimus] Yes, I remember having a similar reaction when I heard a heroine singing to a hero once - bhoori bhoori aankhon waala ik ladka hai, and wondering why she felt romantic about a guy who had put buri nazar on her. But as they say, you live and learn. (I don’t personally endorse that practice though.)
Many comments ago, you assured me that there would be no more bad jokes. And we all know how that went. So no more false promises, please. And Seventeen doesn’t get annoyed. She’s the patient one. Psycho Three on the other hand is a bit of a loose cannon. Yep, she’s a promiscuous camera, that one.
[Fleiger] A reader favorite, very likely :)
[Lalita-ji] Thank you for the correction and muchly honored to have you visit here. Very flattered. And now that I know that I’ve misheard that song all these years, can I hope for a translation of the correct lines, as Mythili also asked? An interesting sidenote - the tune for eruvaaka saagaalo was reused by S D Burman for his Bambai Ka Babu (1960) number - dekhne mein bhola hai. Who did the music for Rojulu Marayi, by the way?
Wednesday, May 9, 2007 @ 5:03 PM
At the risk of contradicting a literary genius, I would say that the lyrics from rOjulu maaraayi are Eruvaaka saagaarO rannO cinnanna :)
MD for rOjulu maaraayi is Master Venu.
It is interesting to note that, this tune(atleast the pallavi) was actually adapted from another song, from a movie called Sree Lakshmamma Katha (1950) starring ANR and G.Varalaxmi, Music by CR Subbaraayan
The song goes
cheeTiki mATiki chiTTemmanTav
china naayuDunTaDu, peda naayuDunTaDu
kaapulunTaru karaNaalunTaru
chiTTemmaani piluvakurO rayyO pillODa
nuv cheepuru debbalu tinTav rO rayyO pillODa
maa ayyoste mari tanTaarO rayyO pilloDa
Another interesting tidbit is that both this song and the rOjulu maaraayi song were sung by Jikki! (Kasturi Siva Rao, a famous Telugu comedian from yester years was the other singer in this song, and if I remember correctly, it was picturised on him)
It could very well be that the origins for this tune are in folk music and different MD’s scored different adaptations :)
Wednesday, May 9, 2007 @ 7:19 PM
mp3’s for both songs
Eruvaaka
cheeTiki maaTiki
Wednesday, May 9, 2007 @ 7:46 PM
Both the mp3 links give me a 403 error. But maybe that’s just me.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007 @ 7:51 PM
It is easy to mishear la and ra, but considering the context Eruvaaka, it is clearly saagaali. Eruvaaka is the coomencement of sowing season, and falls on jyeshtha suddha EkaadaSi. The combining of Euvaaka+ saagaali + Ori + annaa + Ori + chinna + annaa becomes Eruvaakaa saagaalo ranno chinnannaa.
Megha, I don’t know who did the music for the film, I’ll look it up. And yes, I did know SD Burman used the tune.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007 @ 11:45 PM
Sigh, if I knew then what I know now…and all that. Trawled my shelves, read up a bit and came to this conclusion; the confusion arises out of the fact that almost all settings down of the lyric take the musical long interval and convert it into long written vowels.
I was wrong, my bookshelves told me, no matter how pedantically or brilliantly I make a case; it is a folk tune, written by the king of folk melodies in Telugu film industry, Kosaraju. So the lyric ought to read Eruvaaka saagarO annaa, chinnannaa. The short ga urges the farmers to go forth to their tilling, prepare for the monsoon, and get ready for sowing. The long vowel saw me making an exhibition of myself. Once again, sigh.
If anybody is interested, Eruvaaka pourNima falls on 30th of June this year, as we have an extra jyeshtha to go through before the real month. Prediction:monsoons will be late.
Oh, Megha, the music was by Master Venu, and this film seems to have been a turning point in his career, as he quit Vijaya and signed up with Saarathi productions. I rather fell in love with the lyric as I read it, I must say. Brilliantly evocative of farming practices, it was. Now I beat a chastened retreat. Cheers!
Thursday, May 10, 2007 @ 12:46 PM
Oohh.. I think I know this song! Or the tam equivalent. I tried to verbalize this lines and it seems to fit one particular tune purrrfectly and the subject seems to match too. Will try to find the Tam version!
Thursday, May 10, 2007 @ 1:27 PM
[Lalita-ji] Glad that the confusion about the lyrics is finally settled and thank you for the trivia about Eruvaaka. I remember mom mentioning about the jyeshtha maasam but didn’t pay enough attention. My knowledge of Telugu music directors of yesteryears is absymally low, so I know nothing of Master Venu besides the name. What are some other well-known songs/soundtracks of his?
[anantha] Ah! Picturized on Waheeda in Tam too? Dubbed?
Thursday, May 10, 2007 @ 1:51 PM
[anantha] rOjulu maaraayi was made in Tamizh also, “Kaalam maaripochi” was the name I sink and it starred Gemini Ganeshan. The same tunes must have been used in the Tamizh version also :)
update: More info about this song - http://forumhub.mayyam.com/hub/viewtopic.php?p=53760#53760
Thursday, May 10, 2007 @ 3:26 PM
[deitaDi] Thanks! As I mentioned to [Megha] earlier, TFMpage rocks! Btw, did you see that part where someone talks about Eruvaaka being based on another song.
Interestingly, some years back, when I was discussing these various adaptations of the same tune with a Telugu speaking friend, his father, who was sitting quietly till then, looked at me amusedly and said that the original was not even ‘yeruvaka saagaloi’, but a vintage HMV record of Telugu folk songs by a composer called Jaganath Rao, and he even sang the song, which, as far as I can recall went ‘cheedikki maadikki!’
Hmmm.. that takes it further…
Thursday, May 10, 2007 @ 3:53 PM
[Lalita ji] Thanks for elaborating the meaning of Eruvaaka :)
[Megha] Another master-piece of Master Venu is “Thodikodallu”
[Anantha] Interesting facts, they are….hmmm
Thursday, May 10, 2007 @ 4:21 PM
[anantha] yep, TFMpage is awesome!
yeah, saw that too.. The other song I mentioned earlier might have been a “truer” adaptation of the original folk song.. the lyrics are amlost same :)
Thursday, May 10, 2007 @ 4:35 PM
some of Master Venu’s songs that come to mind are
tODi kODaLLu (1957) - This was based on Sharat’s novel “Nishkruthi” and was also made in Hindi as “Apne Paraaye (1980)”
kaarulO shikaarukeLLE paala buggala pasiDi daana
aaDutu paaDutu pani chEstunTe alupu solupEmunnadi
Townu pakkakelladdurO Dingiree, Daambikaalu povaddurO
kalasi vunTe kaladu sukhamu (1961)
mudda banti poolu peTTi, mogili rEkulu jaDanu chuTTi
maangalya balam (1958)
aakaaSa veedhilO andaala jaabili
vaaDina poolE vikasinchenE
siri sampadalu (1962)
ee pagalu rEyigaa panDu vennelaga maarinadEmi cheli (venDi vennela jaabili, ninDu punnami jaabili)
vENugaanammu vinipinchenE, chinni kRShNayya kanipinchaDe
endukO siggendukO
He reused the rafi number “chal ud jaa re panchi” from bhabi (1957) in kuladaivam (1960) as
payaninchE O chilukaa, egiripO paaDaipoyenu gooDu
Friday, May 11, 2007 @ 10:28 AM
[deitaDi] Thanks for reminding those gems :)
I always found the apparent coincidence that both the Telugu and Hindi versions mean the same thing… real cool.
“payaninchE O chilukaa, egiripO paaDaipoyenu gooDu”
“chal ud jaa re panchi”
Friday, May 11, 2007 @ 5:20 PM
Megha - Wanted to say i really enjoyed the original article.. but i am really impressed by the quality of the comments and the discussion on this post…
[on Kosaraju] Another beautiful song by Kosaraju was in Thodikodallu (1957) called “Townu Pakkakelladduro “. The song is a playful argument between husband and wife on whether they should move to the town (from the village) in search of better life. While Ghantasala argues in favor of ‘town’ Jikki in her inimitable voice counters that argument.
Kosaraju (in the lines of Sri Sri) was a writer primarily influenced by the socialist ideas (ardently preached by the likes of Nehru).
My favorite song in ‘Thodikodallu’ is another jem called “Kaarulo Shikaarukelle paala Buggala pasidi Dana” written by ‘Atreya’. Even though i donot subscribe to the socialist ideas this song made me understand their view point in an excellent way…
Friday, May 11, 2007 @ 5:54 PM
For sheer tp and entertainment value of songs, I would suggest “Eggs Our Our”… ;)
Saturday, May 12, 2007 @ 11:57 AM
In our schizophrenic makeup we claim, inter alia, to be a Person of Andhra Origin, but are quite innocent of all these gulti charges flying furiously back and forth :(
Dekho na (pliss) socho na, of all the un-gult babuz n babiz. Post please!
Monday, May 14, 2007 @ 2:27 AM
hi,
you have a fabulous blog here!
feels really nice reading wonderful posts.
best wishes from a fellow blogger
regards
bellur
ps: you’ve been blogrolled.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007 @ 3:00 AM
another yamagazing post! loved it
Wednesday, May 16, 2007 @ 11:42 AM
Does any one of the entire lyrics to “Bambai ka babu” that goes ” main bambai ka babu…..”
Thursday, May 24, 2007 @ 11:30 AM
Barso re Megha Megha Barso re….jus like the “Guru” song.Great work.Kudos to ya….ohhhhh and I am a female fan …not like I am asking credit for that [:P]
Tuesday, June 12, 2007 @ 1:14 AM
Nice post. I hadn’t seen any of those movies, but used to live on these songs during my 10+2.
As for Eruvaaka…, Eru == lake, vaaka is used in suffix/prefix form to denote the “outside”, Eruvaaka == bank of the lake.
Friday, July 13, 2007 @ 5:35 PM