Here I pick up another beautiful number (sung by Lata Mangeshkar) that could not survive the tides of time, but nevertheless, is a delight to listen to.

First the lyrics:

Pyaar kya hota hai, samjhaye koie
Banke gham-khaar to aaye koie

Raasta kis liye hum poochhte hain
Jab ki apni koie manzil hi nahin
Ek thehre hue dariya ki tarah
Zindagi mein koi hulchal hi nahin
Meri soi hui paayal ki sadaa
Na to jaage, na jagaye koie
Pyaar kya hota hai…


Subah se shaam bhi ho jaati hai
Raat bhi aake guzar jaati hai
Apne darwaaze pe aawaz koie
Bhool kar bhi to nahi aati hai
Hum jahan hai wahan ek muddat se
Na koie aaye , na jaaye koie
Pyaar kya hota hai…

This beautiful gem is from the film Ek Kali Muskayee (which had the superhit number, Na tum bewafaa ho, na hum bewafaa hain), and is composed by Madan Mohan with the pain-lashed lyrics penned by Rajinder Kishen. The soul to the words is provided by the inimitable Lata Mangeshkar.

From Kadar jaane na in Bhai Bhai to Tere liye in Veer Zaara, I am an undoubted fan of Madan Mohan’s compositions. For someone like me, who places a strong emphasis on the music put in between the antaras (sometimes at the cost of the lyrics also) and a tune that should sound natural (not forced), Madan Mohan’s music is manna from heaven, as it combines all the three ingredients in a perfect mix. Also, the ‘sound’ of the orchestra of Madan Mohan touches me a lot. (It is this fetish for the lush musical interludes which explains for my choice of Shankar Jaikishan, Nadeem Shravan and Uttam Singh as my other favorites).

This song opens with a gentle flute prelude before Lata Mangeshkar’s vocals take over. Each line of the short mukhda is repeated twice in the tradition of a ghazal rendition.

The first interlude is the most interesting music passage. The same tenor of flute follows the mukhda with a small break filled by quick three chimes of a jal-tarang (type of sound) that is immediately pursued by a supple orchestral combination of violins and flute in a very slow ascent – as slow and as even as milk rising on a boil.

The antaras begin with minimal music, and the first two lines are repeated, with the second repetition supported by full tabla beats. In between the two repetitions there is a petite flute division. The tune in the antaras takes a sharp swing at the last two lines before sliding effortlessly into the mukhda.

The lyrics beautifully capture loneliness with some excellent imagery – soyi hui paayal and raasta hum kis ke liye poochte hain are lovely metaphors. Also, the feeling is conveyed in a very straightforward, simple but nonetheless poetic manner.

Lata Mangeshkar’s intonation is filled with immeasurable pathos, ache and weariness of living a lonely life. The frustration of constant questioning; the wait at the doorstep for the elusive guest; and the anger of watching the minutes tick by without any happening are all captured in her honey-sweet voice.

Generally, most singers eat up the ‘h‘ sound in the word ‘subah‘ – but, trust Lataji to even catch hold of that tiny syllable.

In all, this is a song that seeps into the heart and remains fossilized there forever.



Madan Mohan

For more details on Madan Mohan please click here – Madan Mohan : The Emperor of Gazals

For those who think Madan Mohan could compose only ‘serious’ gazal-numa songs, let me break the myth by informing that the jovial Kishore Kumar number Zarurat hai zarurat hai (Manmauji – 1962) was his composition. And can anyone forget the easy banter of Chhadi re chhadi (Lata and Rafi/Mausam) ?

I wil end this post with two more incidents: Once Madan Mohan was explaining a song to Asha Bhonsle when the songstress pointed out, a trifle disinterestedly, that this song is good, but if he could give the other one as well to her. Madan Mohan’s angry retort was – that song is for Lataji, and only for her, and no one can replace her for that other song.

Lataji claims that only Madan Mohan was a composer who never deserted her ever!

The second incident diplays his passion for perfection: Once during a recording of another song, when Madan Mohan realized that some musicians were playing out of ‘sur‘, he got worked up that he walked towards the playing area in anger. There was a glass door in between; he was so angry that instead of opening the door, he broke the glass with his hand. Lataji recalls with horror that his hand was injured, the blood was flowing out, but Madan Mohan continued his tirade against the erring musicians – “besura bajate ho; sur ke saath be-imani kar rahe ho, sharam nahin aati“!

This was the zeal and passion of this great man.

After all this, the recording happened the same day, and the song went on to be a big hit – Naino mein badra chhaye, bijli si chamke haaye from Mera Saaya. It won the Sur Singar Sansad Award – 1966.

I wonder if this kind of artistic fervor exists in today’s times!

Technorati : Lata Mangeshkar, Madan Mohan

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