A few thoughts about Pianos and Guitars as unsung heroes

Raju Korti
Watching a music channel yesterday late night showing for the umpteenth time a clip from Teen Deviyan (1966) in which a debonair Dev Anand unleashes all his flirtatious charm on the bevy of beauties around him through Kishore's "Khwab ho tum ya koi haqeeqat", one thing came almost as tunefully. In the aggregate of the song situation that rides on a chocolate face, boisterous voice and feminine grace, the unsung hero is the Piano.

Having watched the progression of films from the fifties to the late nineties, I have concluded with unimpeachable evidence that the Piano, Guitar and Sitar have never been able to overtake the charisma of their male and female protagonists. It is almost as if these instruments play second fiddle or side-kicks to them. Let me come back to "Khwab ho tum ya" to buttress my point. To begin with, before the song, Dev Anand asks a Simi breathing down his neck "Yahaan koi Pyano Vyano hai kya?"

I am sure you must have, as I did for years, focused on Dev Anand in a killer black suit and tie, his femme fatales awe-struck at his effervescence in full flow. But hold on. We also watched an anguished Shammi Kapoor dressed similarly in "Dil ke zarokhe me tujh ko bitha kar" (Brahmachari/1966), Feroze Khan in "Bahot Haseen ho bahot jawaan ho" (Mai Wohi Hoon/1966) and Ajit in "Mai khushnaseeb hoon" (Tower House/1962) to name a few. For that matter, Rajendra Jubilee Kumar in a rich Sherwaani making a forceful point with "Ae husn zara jaag tujhe ishq jagaaye" (Mere Mehboob/1963). The highest common factor here is the plush dress sense. The lowest common denominator is the Piano. Its luxurious status stood no chance before the dapper heroes. You may call it a stereotype but I prefer to call it an unwritten code. In the tug of war between your fascination for the hero and the song, Piano takes an apologetic backseat despite making all the right notes.

The hero is fluent enough to use the fingers of both hands. They dance on the Piano keys from one end to another, sometimes banging the keys like a percussion instrument. The poor Piano takes it in stride despite its imposing presence in the midst of its august gathering. Come to think of it, have you ever seen a poor hero on a Piano? No director has been that expansive in his thinking unless I have planted this idea in his mind.

The Guitar isn't been far behind. Probably it has a slightly better status because of its portability and a more jazzy appearance. The hero can either prance around with it or hold a part of it under his armpits and the rest of it like a child in his lap. The sixties had its heroes wield it like a Hanuman's "Gadaa" (mace). Watch Joy Mukherjee doing that in "Laakho hai nigaah mein" (Phir Wohi Dil Laya Hoon/1962). Throughout the song, he never even once fingers (with) it. A decade earlier, Dev Anand at least made a semblance of working his fingers in "Dil ki umange hain jawaan" (Munimji/1955). The seventies and eighties gave the Guitar a new dimension. The likes of Rishi Kapoor preferred to cuddle it like a baby to woo their Lady Love. The number of songs where the hero is armed with a Guitar are far more than those on the Piano. In the process, it has suffered bigger abuse. One of them being gender discrimination. The ladies never got to express themselves on the Piano as their male counterparts got to.

I clearly remember in my school days many friends joining Guitar classes because they genuinely believed themselves to be from the neo-generation that derived its glamour quotient from the instrument. It was also presumed that with their manes, bell bottoms, long bush shirts and a Guitar hanging down their shoulders, they could impress the lasses. They never got far, let alone becoming Rishi Kapoors. Their Guitars vanished faster than their ambitions.

The Sitar has been kind to the heroines but then the codes apply here as well. The Sitar does not deserve anything else than a pure silk saree. At least I have not seen any female actress strumming it in middies, skirts, frocks or other such western outfits. The protocol is the heroine should sit in a particular posture while her fingers run on the strings with Carl Lewis speed. Mercifully, it hasn't occurred to any film-maker to break this convention and the instrument has retained the dignity it deserves. With the kind of films made today, Sitar has almost staged a quiet exit. 

A point to note. Between the upscale Piano and the impoverished Ektaara (a single-stringed music instrument used mostly on beggars, mendicants and orphans), flutes, saxophone and tabla have flitted in and out as guest artistes. But more about that some other day.     

Flashback of my long meeting with Hemant Kumar 34 years ago

Raju Korti

Hemant Kumar and Aarti Mukherjee clicked by me in 1984.

After years of longing, I finally managed to catch up with legendary composer, singer and producer Hemant Kumar in 1984, just five years before he passed to leave an unfilled vacuum. He was well past his prime then but his composing and singing instincts were as impeccable. As a keen devotee of film music, thanks to those golden fifties, sixties and early seventies, I nursed an abiding regret of not being able to meet the man about whom I had read and heard so much. As I write this blog, there is a tangential satisfaction to that anguish that it is better late than never. I have no answer to why I didn't write about the intensive interaction I had with him all these years but as an apology of a consolation, I am happy that this blog coincides with his 100th birthday today (June 16).

I will never forget the long, searching look Hemant Da gave me when we met. Dressed in white pyjamas and a long kurta, his six-plus feet lanky frame towered above my diminutive 5-plus feet. Having recovered from an acute heart condition, he looked pale, drawn and weak. Apparently, he was incredulous that someone who had just stepped into his thirties could even think of talking to a veteran who was been-there-done-that. I had to pull myself together before I lent credence to his apparent misgivings. He was accompanied by playback singer Aarti Mukherjee (of 'Saara mora kajra chhudaya tune' fame) who did not take any part in the three-hour conversation except occasional nods and smiles.

"Hemant Da, they always talk about the two faculties that you straddled so brilliantly -- as a composer and a singer. So who's better between the two?" I asked him. "I can't put my finger on any one of them. Both are an inseparable parts of my musical instincts. Although, I began as a short story writer, my mind was into music. So I quit Engineering despite vehement opposition from my father. Mind you, one of my short stories won critical literary acclaim when I was barely sixteen but I was prepared to chuck that talent for Rabindra Sangeet."

Hemant Da's predilection towards his passion was right on target as within a year he became a singer for All India Radio, his deeply baritone vocals tailor-made to take on the depth of Tagore's compositions. "In those days, my singing hero was Pankaj Mullick and I use to ape him so well that I was nicknamed Chhota Pankaj. But beyond this hero worship, I regret I could not get my teeth into rigorous classical music. It is a regret I will carry to my grave," he said.

Having followed Hemant Da's career closely, I could see that the lack of adequate classical music -- by his own admission -- was no handicap, especially in films. In the early forties, his contemporary was King Talat Mehmood whose chaste Urdu diction and rendition of ghazals had made him a darling of the masses. Mohammed Rafi, who later went on to become the premier singer of the industry, was just struggling to gain a toehold while Mukesh had just got going. Kishore Kumar was nowhere on the scene.

As someone carrying the stamp and legacy of Rabindra Sangeet, Hemant Da found himself at variance with the genre of film songs. That, however, wasn't a handicap as he had the prime examples of Sachin Dev Burman and Salil Choudhury, both Dadas in every sense of the word. Another Dada was in the making to join this exalted company. "It was in the early forties that I hitched onto the Indian People's Theatre Association (IPTA), a Left-leaning  body which had composer and song writer Salil Da as one of its mainstays. I was in the midst of some musical greats and it was particularly satisfying that Rabindra Sangeet was a common chord that ran through us," Hemant Da recalled.

"I wasn't doing badly at all, composing for Bengali films, but when Filmistan made Anandmath in 1951 and I was asked to compose its music, I decided to explore Mumbai, the Mecca of film music. The film was a moderate success but a then raw Lata's Vande Mataram struck perfect patriotic notes and made people sit up and take notice. Then came Shart where I did my own bidding with Na ye chaand hoga."

"But wasn't this a turning point for you? Dev Anand happened," I asked him.
"Na ye chaand hoga was just the platform. Ye raat ye chaandni (Jaal), Chup hai dharti chup hai chaand sitaare and Teri duniya mein jeene se  (House No 44), Hai apna dil to awaara (Solva Saal) and Na tum hame jaano (Baat Ek Raat Ki) happened because Burman Dada was convinced I could fit on Dev Anand's lips," Hemant Da reminisced, pointing out that in the years to come, he steered himself with his own talent through Naagin, Duniya Jhukti Hai, Bees Saal Baad, Bin Badal Barsaat, Kohra and Anupama. The interesting aside here is this was the same Burman Dada who before being a guide to Hemant Da was contemplating to quit and go back to Calcutta because the scene in Mumbai didn't appeal to his Bengali ethos.

Such was Hemant Da's unflinching belief in the potential of Rabindra Sangeet that in those days he was considered as only next to Mullick in the intricacies of that genre ahead of seniors like Burman Dada and Salil Da. This hierarchy was also with its anomalies. Burman Da understood little or nothing of Hindi. He needed to understand the mood of the song and its words written in Bengali before he could employ his compositional genius. Hemant Da was in comparison much more comfortable, having come from the Hindi hinterland of Benares. He was also very much in tune with the musical philosophy of Salil Da and although it didn't show much in his (Hemant Da's) compositions, he had as much flair and understanding of the symphonies, notably among them being Bach.

Naagin made Hemant Da a household name. For many, that was no big surprise as composer Ravi who he assisted for many years, told him that given his talent, it was time he started going his own way. The film's feet-tapping music with a string of Lata hits as also his solos and duets, was a revelation as against the three-hour visual atrocity on the viewers. People rather went to 'hear' the movie than 'see' it. The film won him a Filmfare Award. But Hemant Da preferred to dwell on mid-1955 when he sang four solos for the legendary Uttam Kumar. It was the beginning of an enduring friendship and their chemistry showed they were the most poplar singer-actor combination holding an unchallenged sway for almost a decade.

Hemant Da lapsed into nostalgia as I mentioned to him that period when he was composing for a lot of Bengali and Hindi films while jealously guarding his roots in Rabindra music. "I was at the peak of my career then as a composer and singer. The best was I was singing for maestros like Nachiket Ghosh, Robin Chatterjee and Salil Choudhury. Some of my songs were remakes or improvisations of the Bengali original. I also hobnobbed with production. Bees Saal Baad, Kohra and Khamoshi were produced by me. Neel Akasher Neeche was directed by Mrinal Sen and went on to bag the President's Gold Medal after an unsavoury controversy." Bees Saal Baad and Kohra forged a wonderful relationship with Biswajeet.

After almost an hour, Hemant Da was coming to the perception that for a youngster, I had done my home work fairly well as I mentioned his one song after the other in the course of the meeting. A faint smile creased his face when I mentioned to him that in the bevy of beauties that he sang, my favourites happened to be the 1955 Sardar Malik beauty filmed on Prem Nath 'Mai garibo ka dil hoon watan ki zubaan' (Aab-e Hayat) and a duet with Geeta Dutt from Detective (1958) 'Mujh ko tum jo mile ye jahaan mil gaya' (Fabulous use of Hawaii guitar). He had a word of lament for Mukul Roy, Geeta's brother and the composer of that dulcet duet. "He was such a talented music director and understood the nuances of film music so well but it beats me why his career didn't pick up."

In an era when he rubbed shoulders with the likes of Shankar Jaikishen, OP Nayyar, C Ramchandra, Naushad, Madan Mohan, Roshan, Hemant Da did not even once go in for lavish orchestrations. His accompaniments were minimal and the song carried itself on the weight of its sweetness. Hemant Da was particularly delighted when I pointed out how sublime Lata sounded in 'Chhup gaya koi re door se pukar ke' in that obscure film Champakali (1960). He seemed touched when I said it could give Madan Mohan's 'Chaand maddham hai' (Railway Platform/1957) a stiff competition. "I think Burman Dada's influence rubbed off on me. Even when it came to the choice of singers. I remember how he had singled me out to sing for Dev Anand when everyone else felt that my voice wouldn't suit his persona. See how Burman Da stood vindicated. In my career as composer, my choices have been guided by the demands of the song per se rather than factors like who was lip-synching the song and how many instruments I must employ to embellish it."

"You tuned so well with Burman Dada and sang 12-13 songs for Dev Anand. What happened thereafter? I asked him. Hemant Da paused a little but the gentleman in him came to the fore. "I don't know what happened after Baat Ek Raat Ki. He never called and I didn't ask. I didn't think too much about it and got busy with my own work." Was it that on Burman Dada's exacting scale Hemant Da's voice had lost its baritone edge? Unlikely, as you know that the quality of his voice was still replete with the same refined sensitivity. I can vouch as I heard him in flesh and blood.
"I used Mohammed Rafi and Kishore Kumar sparingly even at the peak of their careers. For that matter, I sang my own song only when it was absolutely called for. I shared a great working rapport with them and I was devastated when I lost two dear younger brothers -- Rafi and Uttam Kumar -- in a span of just one week. They were giants. Why didn't I work with them more? I loved Rafi's Dil ki aawaaz bhi sun (Humsaaya), Manna's Piya maine kya kiya (Us Paar), Mukesh's Woh tere pyaar ka gham. Even an otherwise exuberant Kishore was polite when he teamed up with me. He knew exactly what I wanted to deliver in Kashti ka khamosh safar hai (Girl Friend). I have memories of Rafi walking up to me and wanting to know the pronunciation of some Bengali words before he sang those songs. He was one singer who knew how to use the mike well -- like when to sing from the throat and when to sing from his navel."

For all his modesty, Hemant Da could run a quick temper at times and did not hesitate to mince words. He revealed how he had warned Guru Dutt against the latter's penchant for changing his singers and composers at the last minute, citing the example of the 1962 classic Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam that had adultery as its theme. "I agreed only after Guru gave me an undertaking saying that only I was equipped to handle the music since it was set in the backdrop of Bengal." History was made before it was written.

For a man on whom the Government of India issued a stamp posthumously in 2016 and had won a spate of awards and recognition, including two national Awards, Hemant Da didn't make much of this memorabilia. He never mentioned any of his songs when asked about his favourites. Having refused Padmashri in the 1970s, he also shunned Padma Bushman which was three years after I met him. More than three decades after his death music companies keep releasing his albums, repackaging his old songs. There are dime a dozen who copy Rafi, Kishore, Mukesh and don't admit so but I personally know many who take a great delight in unabashedly conceding that they love to imitate Hemant Da's style but are nowhere near.

Close your eyes and hear the Kishore Kumar composed 1964 beauty from Door Gagan Ki Chhaon Mein:
'Raahi tu mat ruk jaana, toofan se mat ghabrana
Kabhi to milegi teri manzil
Kahin door gagan ki chhaon mein..'
It may have been incommoded by KK's own 'Jin raaton ki bhor nahi hai' but has in sharp contrast hope and tranquility that make the song a quintessential Hemant Kumar from a school of music that qualifies to be a university of its own.

PS: It needed a Hemant Kumar song for a film to be qualified as 'haunting'. And since the man was too modest to speak about his own songs, I will labour over my favourite HK solos and duets which I am sure might raise eyebrows for skipping songs which have hit higher popularity charts. Partly, my choices are influenced because you don't get to hear them much. So here I go.
1) Mai garibo ka dil hoon watan ki zubaan (Aab-e-Hayat/1955/Solo)
2) Mujh ko tum jo mile, ye jahaan mil gaya (Detective/1958/With Geeta Dutt)
3) Aa neele gagan tale pyaar hum kare (Baadshah/1954/With Lata)
4) Baharo se pucho nazaaro se pucho dil kyo deewana mera ho gaya (Fashion/1959/With Lata)
5) Nai manzil nayi raahen naya hai karvaan apna (Hill Station/1957/With Lata)
6) Raahi tu mat ruk jaana (Door Gagan Ki Chhaon Mein/1964/Solo)
7) Dekho wo chaand chup ke karta hai kya ishaare (Shart/1954/With Lata)
8) Zindagi kitni khubsoorat hai (Bin Badal Barsaat/1963/Solo HK version)
9) Jab jaag uthe armaan to kaise neend aaye (Bin Badal Barsaat/1963/Solo)
10) Ye nayan dare dare, ye jaam bhare bhare (Kohra/1964/Solo)

Nature as part of Conspiracy Theories syllabus

Raju Korti
Ideally, I should have written about this a couple of days before to coincide with the World Environment Day that had Biodiversity as its existential theme. While a token lip service was being paid to the cause of Nature's well being, I was exercised by reasons justified or not; that my subject wasn't being kind to my sensibilities. So here I go with a conspiracy theory.

A file grab of Cyclone Nisarg

I do appreciate that human actions, including deforestation, encroachment of wildlife habitats, intensified agriculture and acceleration of climate change have pushed the Nature beyond its limits. It would take more than 1.5 Earths to meet the demands of the humans make of Nature each year. To relate with the current theme, if this degeneration continues, biodiversity loss will have untold implications for humanity, including the collapse of food and health systems.

While human greed has triggered this gradual but confirmed abyss of Nature, the latter has now turned villain to the former's hero. As part of the international Disaster Management team involved in advancing urban resilience through science and innovation, I can vouch for the Nature shedding its superficial benign skin to emerge as an anti-hero.

The 2020 has cast Nature in an ominous role that should qualify for a lifetime achievement award. Its machinations have resulted in disasters whose magnitude and gravity keeps getting more and more intense. Is this degradation irreversible even if all possible actions are taken to correct the historic wrongs mankind has unleashed on the Nature? I think not because the Nature after all its contemplation has resigned to the fact that the situation is beyond redemption and now it is payback time. Do not mistake the conspiracy behind its reprisal.

The country has been hit by two severe cyclones within a fortnight of each other. First Cyclone Amphan ripped Bengal apart followed by Cyclone Nisarg devastating Maharashtra in quick succession. If you thought these two were aberrations, you now have the prospect of another one building up, this time Orissa at the likely receiving end. This is unusual in spite of the argument that cyclones are usual at this time of the year. In the encumbered times of a highly contagious and baffling pandemic, this retribution by the Nature seems to have taken a back seat. That, however, is not all. Mark my words. You will see cyclones hitting the Mumbai coast just before the onset of monsoon every year. 

The swarm of locusts that have invaded the vast swathes of land in the country since April is perhaps the most far-reaching in the sense that it could result in massive food shortage. If that wasn't enough, another invasion is expected within a few weeks. Nature and its ancillaries are wreaking havoc from the sidelines while the pandemic is at the epicenter of public attention. Worst, there is no solution to any of these.

My understanding of Climate Physics tells me that the country in its present rot needs to be restored at least to the environmental status obtaining in the early sixties. Those who have lived that phase will bear me out. There is no quickfire cure for our environmental problems beyond salvaging Nature, which is always going to be a long-drawn process given the extent of ruin caused and the utter lack of application and appreciation towards its far-reaching consequences. In the tussle between Nature and Development, expediency always wins it for the latter.

Three cyclones, one after the other, a deadly and persisting pandemic, two back-to-back calamitous pest attacks and the omnipresent threats of flooding, gas/radiation leaks, Tsunamis, Earth-quakes, Droughts, cyclones/tornadoes/hurricanes have been spinning a web of disaster. The prophets of doom have inconsequential conspiracy theories to think of than what Nature has in store. In the human ego, man-made conspiracies have more sale-ability than those by the Nature. That perhaps explains why this has not occurred to any of those who in their presumptuous wisdom enjoy wicked delight in spinning conspiracy stories.

Conspiracy theorists believe in a conspiracy because they think it is the exclusive domain of sinister and powerful individuals and groups. The Nature is right on course to include itself in their syllabus. As for me, the gratification is being probably the first to introduce Nature in that curriculum if it means patting my own back. Happy I have a snout that can smell a conspiracy where there really is one.