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Saat Suron Ka Saath : Shankar Jaikishan
Monthly Archives: July 2020
Shankar Jaikishen : Range of their talent
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Perhaps the oldest established of the three composer duos, Shankar Jaikishan got their break in Barsaat in 1949. Having worked under the very first composer duo of Hindi films, Husnlal-Bhagatram and, later, with Ram Ganguly, these two had no conventional education. Perhaps it would be correct to say that the generation of listeners born in the early ’60s were a lucky bunch who grew up on a cocktail of the compositions this duo created!
Shankar Jaikishan (Pic: Google Image Search)
There are many websites devoted to their music, millions of fans who have, perhaps, a better handle on the intricacies of their music. Perhaps musicologist Manek Premchand’s arrow hits closest to bull’s-eye when he talks about them “Keeping one eye on newness and the other eye on simplicity. Trying variations, reversing taals, reversing the start of the sthayi into avroh. Using counter-melody, taking the saxophone here, positioning the accordion elsewhere. But with all this, never losing focus of the fact that the songs just had to be listener-friendly. S-J didn’t want to compose complex melodies that were made for the sangeet gharanas. They wanted to make, and always managed to compose, tunes that you and I could listen to and sing and enjoy long after they themselves had left the film scene. This they achieved so well.”
I admit that I have never been able to classify S-J into any mold. Nor have I been able to explain to myself what it is that defines their music. If I were to put it simplistically, I’d say they are known for a truly unique combination – a teaspoon of classical music thrown in with a pinch of melody, garnished with a lilt – and voila! Another winner! Or their orchestration. Or their simply mind blowing preludes, interludes, postludes…Or… I could go on and on. But when I became enamored of their music, I knew none of this. I knew only that I loved a lot of their songs. And even though they worked with both Hasrat Jaipuri and Shailendra together in most movies, I have chosen songs written by Shailendra, simply to reduce the variables while trying to display
the range of their talent.
Hasrat Jaipuri, Jaikishan Raj Kapoor, Shankar and Shailendra (Pic: Cinema Sangeet)
In 1963 they had four releases: Hamrahi, Ek Dil Sau Afsane, Asli Naqli and Dil Ek Mandir. All of them with their favorite poets Hasrat Jaipuri and Shailendra doing the honors. I do think it’s important here to note that none of these were RK Films. Let’s see if we can unearth the genius that was S-J using their 1963 releases as a sample of their work.
Here is more than a teaspoon of classical music: Lata’s Mann re tu hi bataa kya gaaun in Hamrahi is the cry of a forlorn heart unable to contain itself and as incapable of sharing her grief. A semi-classical touch with the mellifluous sitar prelude devoid of any other instrument, joined by a few chords and Lata’s piercing address to her “mann” starts the song. In fact after each verse, the comeback to the “mann re” is devoid of any music except these guitar chords in the background. It’s almost as if the “mann” cannot take the weight of any instrument, lest it break completely. Lata’s voice, sans any melody or percussion makes a deeper impact. The tabla, the sitar, the violins, those guitar chords, used so prudently by the duo here. To end with that plaintive cry to the “mann” – just fabulous! Shailendra’s words? Haunting.
Mann re tu hi bataa kya gaaun (Hamrahi, 1963) Shankar-Jaikishan / Shailendra / Lata
To show the melody that their music is so full of, here’s an unusual Rafi-Raj Kapoor combine from Ek Dil Sau Afsane! This duet is a shock to watch for the first time as one doesn’t associate Rafi’s voice with the Showman at all. In complete contrast to the sitar and high notes in Mann re, hear how softly this one starts off! Soft and firm. Not tentative. How attractive the repeating sound of that brush on the drums is throughout the song! A simple love song, this one depends on the waltz beat and meter and the drums to slowly steal your heart. Uncomplicated, yet rich with little touches, like how the drums start up each time the mukhda starts. How the accordion flirts with the orchestra and peeks into each verse.
And Shailendra? He makes you smile here. Notice his play on words in the mukhda? One says “my world is full of you, like a garden is full of flowers.” Complete saturation. The other says “you’re unique for me, like the moon is unique in the sky.” Only one. A delight of a song that never grows old. You start listening and long after the song is over, you’re still humming, Tum hi tum ho…
Tum hi tum ho (Ek Dil Sau Afsane, 1963) Shankar-Jaikishan / Shailendra / Lata and Rafi
Let’s elaborate a little on their ‘eye on simplicity’. The song that instantly comes to mind is one from Asli Naqli sung beautifully by Lata. In a movie that boasted beautifully penned and composed, extremely popular songs like Tujhe jeevan ki dor se, Laakh chhupao chhup na sakega, Chheda mere dil ne tarana tere pyar ka, Kal ki daulat aaj ki khushiyan, this Lata-Sadhana combine comes like the freshest air of dawn, even as it has been filmed at night. A whiff of the purest air there is. A song that combines the jubilation of falling in love with the darr of being in love! Shailendra expressing this as only he can – simply, clearly. Lata and Sadhana both elevating this simplicity to the sublime.
The heady excitement, with the fear of losing something as valuable as one’s life partner dogging at the heel of this whirlwind of emotion.
Chahat ka hai harsu asar, Tujhko dekhun, dekhun jidhar….
Chalti hun main taaron par, Phir kyun mujhko lagta hai darr…
Hear how S-J create the effect they want. Do you know that the eye of a storm is quite still? This is how this song feels. The steadiness of this lady’s emotion, so believable because it is so steady; in tandem with the flourish of violins that start off the song! In the interludes, we have that accordion peeping again creating that little anxiety in the waltz-rhythm of the orchestra! The verses, where the orchestra fades to give way to the heartbeat – the tabla. The result?
Kya kaha hai chand ne, jisko sun ke chandani
har lahar pe jhoom ke, kyun ye nachane lagi
To some, the two waltz songs above may seem similar, but their treatment sets them apart. While the duet is a private whispering of sweet-nothings, the Lata solo above is the sheer joy of being alive and in love with that intoxicating and oh-so-real hint of fear that doesn’t dampen the mood…that feeling of dancing on waves, or stars, remains long after the song is over.
Tera mera pyaar amar (Asli Naqli, 1963) Shankar-Jaikishan / Shailendra / Lata
By far, the most popular, the most classical-based album that S-J came up with in 1963 remains Dil Ek Mandir. A movie that could have just remained a tearjerker had it not been for its fine music and some wonderful performances that elevated it a notch. Meena Kumari, Raaj Kumar and Rajendra Kumar, all in their best tragic costumes. What elevates the story is the character of not only the doctor, his sacrifice, but the acceptance of this doctor’s role in his wife’s previous life by the husband, in my very humble opinion. Meena Kumari as the quintessential Indian wife, deeming her husband her devta is in her element. S-J give her two solos as the wife, both undying compositions. One that reveals a little of her struggle to accept this man as her husband, having loved another – a Hasrat Jaipuri-penned poem that adds a little shade to her cookie-cutter character, and is therefore a personal favorite.
Hum pyar ke gangaajal mein *balam ji* tan-mann apna dho baitthe
Panchhi se chhuda kar uss ka ghar tum apne ghar par le aaye
Ye pyar ka pinjra mann-bhaaya, hum jee bhar-bhar kar muskaaye
Jab pyar hua iss pinjre se, tum kehne lage azaad raho
Hum kaise bhulayein pyar tera, tum apni zubaan se ye na kaho
Ab tum-sa jahaan mein koi nahi hai, hum to tumhare ho baitthe
Tum kehte ho ke aise pyar ko bhool jao, bhool jao…
The addition of that ‘ab’, whether done to balance the meter or intentionally, is a stellar touch. I confess- what endeared this song to a younger me was that phrase, so niftily tucked into the meter – the younger me actually waiting for the second verse to hear the balam ji-part! Sometimes it’s a small thing that leads to undying love – it doesn’t always have to be something grand! 🙂
Hum pyar ke gangaajal mein *balam ji* tan-mann apna dho baitthe.
The other, Ruk jaa raat, ttheher ja re chanda, beetey na milan ki bela, written by Shailendra, an audio-visual treat, is an entreaty and a commitment all at once. An entreaty for the night to last forever. A commitment to the husband that no matter what the morning brings, her bond with him will remain eternally.
Kal ka darna, kaal ki chinta, do tan hain, mann ek hamare
Jeevan-seema ke aage bhi, aaungi main sang tumhare…
The repetition of this last sentence, almost in a whisper without instrumentation, is a brilliant touch in a composition that is replete with violins, the piano, even a faint shehnai, and a beautiful tabla.
Hasrat Jaipuri writes a beautiful piece of poetry in the title song, giving a pure heart the stature of a temple, composed so beautifully with the high notes, sung with confidence by Rafi and Suman Kalyanpur. Ahh! What ideals we grew up with! These were songs that inspired way more than Moral Science lessons ever could.
Even in a feast full of satisfying courses and dishes, there is often times one that will top the others, even if by a hair’s breadth. Here it is the Rafi-crooned regret that makes my hair stand on end each time I hear it. Not only his voice and Shailendra’s poetry, but S-J’s treatment of both. Starting so unusually with a bulbul tarang that leads into the most unusual sound of the accordion – or is that an organ?-two completely opposing sounds here! The bulbul tarang is usually employed to express excitement, joy, or at least movement. The sounds of the organ/accordion here are foreboding, as if spelling doom! More than enough to get your attention toward this Raag Kirwani offering. The sound of the very same organ/accordion ends this song, maybe to denote that nothing has changed – the memories remain, as does the love. Rafi’s voice full of unshed tears, regrets, memories and a love that will not be forgotten. Shailendra’s words, unparalleled, his imagery of days past as birds that he wishes he could cage and feed pearls, keep close to his heart – Uff!
Yaad na jaaye beete dino ki (Dil Ek Mandir, 1963) Shankar-Jaikishan / Shailendra / Rafi
Is it any wonder that yaad na jaaye beete dino ki? When melody awakened us and melody put us to sleep. When life was maybe not as exciting as it is today, but it was rich. With the talent, the passion and the commitment of people like these film makers, actors, these composer duos, singers and these poets.
Such mein…din jo pakheru hote…seene se rehta lagaye….
References:
Premchand, Manek (2003). Yesterday’s Melodies Today’s Memories. 2nd edition. Mumbai. Jharna Books.
About Monica Kar
Monica Kar has her BA in English Literature from the University of Delhi. She now lives in St. Charles, Missouri, USA, where she wears many hats. While she has worked in Publishing, Retail, Education and Construction in various roles, she has been a free-lance editor since 1987, and is currently part time editor with Learning and Creativity-Silhouette Magazine. In 2015 she started writing about her first passion – Hindi film songs of the Golden Age for an online music group. She welcomes suggestions and critiques on her writing as it makes her learn and grow as a writer.
This article is taken from learningandcreativity.com/silhouette
it is part of a piece written to honor the music of 1963
Swarlipi of song Tera Jaana film Anari
Swarlipi of Rasik Balma
SHANKAR-JAIKISHAN 