Articles
Subject: Remembering RD
Source: Sunday Times of India, 1997
Author: Raju Bharatan
Sunday Times, Bombay, January 5, 1997 Three years ago, on January 4, at 3:58 a.m., Rahul Dev Burman passedaway, leaving behind him a whole generation of his admirers, shockedat the sudden loss. Panchamda was no more.
Soon after his death came the Filmfare award for his brilliant scoreof Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s 1942 — A Love Story. 1942 … also wonKavita Krishnamurthi her maiden Best Singer award for her compellingrendition of Pyaar hua chupke se.
If there was no argument regarding that posthumous award, there was noend of argument in the prestigious Sur Singar Samsad council in 1967when it came to awarding Pancham for the best Classical Song of theYear. As the convener of the Sur Singar committee set up to pick thatyear’s Best Classical Song, I can state that Pancham lost that awardin peculiar circumstances.
This was after he had shown his paces in Teesri Manzil (1966). TeesriManzil won spot recognition for him as a musicmaker with his own style— distinct from that of S.D. Burman — but the same music typecasthim. His O Ganga maiya, paar laga de meri sapno ki naiya … set inRaag Jogiya and sung by Lata Mangeshkar for the film Chandan Ka Palnawas a strong contender for Sur Singar’s best Classical Song of theYear award for 1967. He himself had high hopes for the song. O Gangamaiya was shortlisted among the four songs in the final context thatyear, the other three being Lata Mangeshkar’s Maine range li aajchunariya composed in Raag Pilu by Madan Mohan for Dulhan Ek Raat Ki,Asha Bhosle’s Saawan ke raat kaari karri in Raag Malkauns by Ravi forMeherbaan and Lata’s Dar laage garje badariya set in Raag SurdasiMalhar by Vasant Desai for Ram Rajiya.
Brijnarain, who headed the Sur Singar Samsad, called me frantically onthe morning after we had bought R D Burman’s O Ganga maiya into thereckoning. “Are you out to destroy the classical reputation of SurSingar?” he asked. “How could you as convener possible permit a songby R D Burman even to get a look-in at my Sur Singar?”. The awardeventually went to Madan Mohan.
The way Pancham came to be jettisoned for that Sur Singar citationgives me the opportunity to draw attention to `the other side’ ofPancham. If he was beat-based, he was also melody-based. In fact, bythe time Sankarabharanam (from the South) came to make cinematicwaves, Pancham longed to break out of the tight circle of the trendymusic he was acclaimed for composing. His point was that if he hadindeed set a trend in the early ’70s, it was for the younger composersto take over the baton in the mid-’80s. He himself, by 1985, yearnedto compose melody-based music, as he had for Gulzar’s Aandhi, Kushboo,Kinara and Namkeen. “I love doing soft themes,” he once confessed.
In Gulzar’s Ijazaat, Pancham’s Mera saaman mujhe lauta do (asong-lyric that he had at first refused to touch as a “metreless”piece of rhyming by Gulzar) went on to win, deservedly for AshaBhosle, the National award for Best Song. Yet Pancham alwaysregretted the fact that a few other beautiful songs that he evokedfrom Gulzar’s poetry never reached the people in his lifetime. Likehis stunning Lata Mangeshkar solo from Libas — a film that was neverreleased — Sili hawa chhu gai, sila badan chhil gaya or her Kuhukuhu koyaliya in Devdas. Then there was Bahut raat hui by KishoreKumar in Musafir.
The point here is that Pancham, though tuned in with such melody-basedthemes, was stuck with his modern image. His Saare ke saare gama golekar gaate chale by Kishore Kumar, Asha Bhosle and chorus in Gulzar’sParichay is one such a take-off. Yet Saare ke saare … carries awhiff of Raag Bilawal, which is the Hindustani parallel of RaagSankarabharanam.
Indeed Pancham was my recommendation to director K. Vishwanath for surSangam, a classical remake of the film Shankarabharanam. But R DBurman’s name was rejected the moment it was mentioned todistributors. Sur Sangam was finally scored by Laxmikant-Pyarelal.
It was this tinsel-tag that he was stuck with after having alreadycomposed so much meaningful music, that distressed and disheartenedPancham. Initially, he has deliberately cultivated that image in aneffort to sound different from his father. Even as he finally brokeaway from being S D Burman’s assistant, his parents remainedjustifiably proud of him. “Tell me,” said his mother Meera whoassisted S D, “Is there a composer in our films today who could havedone the classy music of Amar Prem along with the jazzy music of HareRama Hare Krishna?”
S D Burman shared his wife’s pride — he had refused to go along withDev Anand’s idea of him doing the traditional tunes of Hare Rama …and Pancham the Dum Maro dum song in the film. “Never mix our musicalidentities,” S D Burman had told Dev Anand. “Leave Hare Rama … tobe wholly scored by Pancham. I have trained my son to do bothtraditional and modern music.”
Pancham had, in fact, given the very first hit of his career — Ghar aaja ghir aaye sung by Lata Mangeshkar for Mahmood’s Chhote Nawab — which was set in Raag Maalgunji. It has he who gave us classical gems like Vinati karun Ghanashyam in Raag Jogiya (Lata Mangeshkar in Pati Patni), Bada natkhat hai re in Raag Khamaj (Lata Mageshkar in Amar Prem), Aayo kahan se Ghanashyam also in Raag Khamaj (Manna Dey in Budha Mil Gaya), Karvate badalte rahen in Raag Pahadi (Lata Mageskhar-Kishore Kumar in Aap Ki Kasam), Mere naina sawan bhado in Raag Shivranjani (Lata Mageshkar-Kishore Kumar in Mehbooba), Jamuna kinare aa jaa in Raag Maru Bihag (Lata Mangeshkar in mehbooba), Meri bheegi bheegi si (Kishore Kumar in Anamika) in Raag Kirvani, Beeti no betayi raina (Lata Mageshkar-Bhupendra in Parichay) in Raag Bihag, Huzoor is tarah se no itrate chaliye (Bhupendra-Suresh Wadkar in Masoom) in Yaman Kalyan. Even Asha Bhosle-Mohammed Rafi qawali Hai agar dushman dushman in Hum Kisse Kum Naheen has R D imparting a typical light touch in Raag Kalavati.
And wasn’t Pancham merely returning to his Rabindra Sangeet roots with 1942 — A Love Story when he came to be halted in mid-stride at a time when he was in the truly creative phase of his career? The end came too soon; time stood still — much like his lyrical Samay ka yeh pal tham sa gaya hai…
Subject: Gulzar’s introduction to RD
Author: Guri Bagga
The following is Gulzar relating the story of how his first film-song came about…he is a young man of 26 working with stalwarts like Bimal Roy and Sachin Dev Burman during the making of the movie ‘Bandini’ in 1962……
moraa goraa ang layi le mohe syaam rang dayi de chhup jaooNgi raat hi meiN mohe pee ka sang dayi de
is geet ka janm vahaaN se shuroo huaa jab Bimal-da aur Sachin-da ne mujhe bulaayaa situation samjhaane ke liye. Sachin-da ne shuroo kiyaa:
‘Kalyani (Nutan) jo man hi man Vikas (Ashok Kr.) ko chaahne lagee hai, ek raat choolhaa-chauNkaa sameTkar gungunaatee huyi baahar nikal aayi’
‘aisaa karaykTar ghar se baahar jaakar nahiN gaa saktaa ‘, Bimal-da ne vahiN rok diyaa.
‘baahar nahiN jaayegi to baap ke saamne kaise gaayegi’ Sachin-da ne poochhaa.
‘baap se hameshaa vaishnav-kavitaa sunaa kartee hai, sunaa kyoN nahiN saktee?’ Bimal-da ne daleel dee.
‘ye kavitaa-paaTh nahiN hai daadaa, gaanaa hai!’ (SD)
‘to kavitaa likho, vo kavitaa gaayegi’ (BR)
‘gaanaa ghar meiN ghuT jaayegaa’ (SD)
‘to aaNgan meiN le aao, lekin baahar nahiN jaayegi’ (BR)
‘baahar nahiN jaayegaa to ham gaana nahiN banaayegaa!’ Sachin-da ne chetaavnee de dee.
to kuchh is tarah se pehlaa session tHaa. maine pooree kahaanee sunee Debu se (Debu aur Saran dono Bimal-da ke assistants tHe.)
baad meiN Bimal-da ne dubaaraa bulaayaa aur samjhaayaa: ‘raat ka waqt hai, baahar jaane ko Dartee hai chaaNdanee raat meiN koyi dekh na le…aaNgan se aage nahiN jaa paatee’
phir Sachin-da ka bulaavaa aayaa…gayaa to bole: ‘chaaNdanee raat meiN Dartee hai koyi dekh na le. aaNgan se baahar bhi aa gayi, lekin muD.-muD. ke aaNgan kee taraf dekhtee hai’
ab mujhay kuchh-kuchh samajh meiN aane lagee Kalyani ki duvidhaa Bimal-da aur Sachin-da ke beech meiN!
Sachin-da ne agle din bulaakar mujhe dhun sunaayi:
la-laa la-la-la la-la-la la-la-laa
Pancham (RD) ne thoD.aa saa change kiyaa:
da-daa daa~daa daa~daa da-da-daa
geet ki pehlee soorat samajh meiN aane lagee: kuchh la-laa aur kuchh daa~daa!
maiN sur-taal se behraa bhauNchakka-sa dono ko dekhtaa rhaa, sochaa keh dooN
ta-ta-t-ta-ta-ta-ta-t…nahiN aataa!
Sachin-da kuchh der harmonium par dhun bajaate rahe…aahistaa-aahistaa maine gungunaane ki koshish kee…TooTe-TooTe se shabd aane lage:
do-chaar…do chaar…duyi-chaar pag pe aNganaa bairee kaNga-naa chhanak na
galat-salat sataroN ke kuchh bol ban gaye:
bairee kanga-naa chhanak na duyi-chaar pag pe aNganaa mohe kosoN door laage…
Sachin-da ne apnee sur-waali aawaaz meiN gaa ke parkhaa, bole: ‘haaN dhun ki beher yahee rahegee’
chalaa aayaa. gungunaataa rahaa. Kalyani ke baare meiN sochtaa rahaa. Ek khayaal aayaa…chaaNd se minnat karegee:
maiN piyaa ko dekh aaooN jaraa mooNh phiraayi le chaNdaa
chaaNd baar-baar badlee haTaakar jhaaNk rahaa hai, muskuraa rahaa hai, jaise keh rahaa ho: kahaaN jaa rahee ho? kaise jaaogee? maiN roshanee kar dooNgaa, sab dekh leNge. chiD.ke Kalyani ne gaali de dee:
tohe raahu laage bairee muskaaye jee jalaayi ke
gusse meiN Kalyani vahiN baiTh gayi…sochaa waapas lauT jaaooN, lekin moh baaNh se pakaD. kar kheeNch rahaa hai, aur laaj paaNv pakaD.e rok rahee hai…kucch samajh meiN nahiN aataa kyaa kare. apne aap se poochhne lagtee hai:
kahaaN le chalaa hai manavaa mohe baaNwaree banaayi ke
gumsum Kalyani baiThee hai, sochtee hai: ‘kaash aaj roshne na hotee, itnee chaaNdanee na hotee…ya maiN hi itnee goree na hotee ki chaaNdanee meiN chhalak-chhalak jaatee hooN…saaNwali hotee to kaise DhaNkee-chhupee apne piyaa ke paas pahuNch jaatee’
lauT aayi bechaari Kalyani, waapas ghar lauT aayi, yahee gaate-gungunaate:
moraa goraa ang layi le mohe syaam rang dayi de chhup jaaooNgi raat hi meiN mohe pee ka sang dayi de ho~ O~O~ moraa goraa ang layi le mohe syaam rang dayi de chhup jaaooNgi raat hi meiN mohe pee ka sang dayi de
[If you’ve noticed, the first time this sthaayi is sung by the Kalyani-Lata, Sachin-da has composed an almost gungunaane waalaa style with the rhythm starting and then pausing, and then starting and then pausing again…succinctly bringing out the duvidhaa mentioned above by Gulzar. And what a tremendously innovative placement of the sam of this rhythm in the meter…it seems play opposite by coming right between the words ‘goraa’ and ‘ang’, and following that placement throughout the song!]
[The interlude here reminds me of the kind of stuff one heard later in ‘Guide’, quite playful]
ik laaj roke paiyaaN ik moh kheeNche bayiaaN~~~~~ ik laaj roke paiyaaN ik moh kheeNche bayiaaN jaaooN kidhar na jaanoo hamkaa koyi bataayi de ho~ O~O~ <====The way Lata brings this in softly, mmmmaaaah!!! moraa goraa ang layi le mohe syaam rang dayi de chhup jaaooNgi raat hi meiN mohe pee ka sang dayi de
This interlude is the piece de resistance for this song…he creates the rain-filled clouds with percussion and crescendo strings, then suddenly brings this ‘chupke se’ waala phrase consisting of 2-2-2-2-1 pattern notes on the surmandal, a very soft tabla playing eight cycles of 3-3, and even softer jaltarag playing notes ‘in chord’ with the surmandal and ‘in rhythm’ with the tabla, (i.e. 3s instead of the 2s of the surmandal)…finally ending with a sweep on the surmandal…just amazing! A ‘hats-off’ cheez!
badaree haTaa ke chaNdaa chupke se jhaaNke chanDaa~~~~~ badaree haTaa ke chaNdaa chupke se jhaaNke chanDaa tohe raahu laage bairee muskaaye jee jalaaye ke ho~ O~O~ <====There she goes again, stealing my heart! moraa goraa ang layi le mohe syaam rang dayi de chhup jaaooNgi raat hi meiN mohe pee ka sang dayi de [A reprise of the first interlude]
kuchh kho diyaa hai paayi ke kuchh pa liyaa gaNwaayi ke~~~~~ kuchh kho diyaa hai paayi ke kuchh pa liyaa gaNwaayi ke kahaaN le chalaa hai manavaa mohe baaNwaree banaayi ke ho~ O~O~ <====okay okay, I’ll shut up :)) moraa goraa ang layi le mohe syaam rang dayi de chhup jaaooNgi raat hi meiN mohe pee ka sang dayi de
Subject: And now there is silence..
Source: Filmfare , Feb 1994.
Author: Gulzar Hi RMIMers. I’ve been meaning to post this very special article for a while but couldn’t find the time. It’s a loving tribute to Pancham by one of his closest friends and colleagues: Gulzar.
They were friends during their days of struggle and associates as well when they they made it big. Gulzar remembers their days of laughter and music.
AND NOW THERE IS SILENCE…
by Gulzar
Part 1: THE MAN IN THE MUSICIAN
We knew each other from the moment we were hopefuls. We were assistants–he to his father and I to Bimal Roy. When SD would come with his compositions, his s on would come carrying a “dag- ga”. He’d be wearing shorts the way kids wear Bermud as today.
My first lyric for Sachinda was “Mora gora ang lai le”. Pancham would be there. Shailendra did the other lyrics for BANDINI. And Pancham would encourage me–g o meet baba, go and talk to him. He’d invite me to their apartment in the one-storey building, ‘Jet’, on Linking Road. Today there’s a tall building over that one-storey structure. I don’t know who stays there now, Sachinda was there till his end.
Pancham was three-four years younger than me. He was always a kid, he remained one. He was fond of pranks, of colorful clothes and especially of the color red. He had a nickname for me–‘safed kavva’. He’d phone, if I wasn’t at home he’d leave a message, “Tell
His sense of humor was his very own. He knew Asha Bhonsle was very particular about keeping the house clean; so he sent her a gift–two big brooms in bright wrapping paper.
One of his passions, besides music, was cooking. He grew chillies in his terrac e garden–as many as 40 varieties, cross-breeding them to get new exotic tastes. Ashaji now wonders, “Who’ll look after his plants? He’s gone.”
If a friend was going abroad, he’d ask him to get back some soup packets. Like he asked Rahi Sabarwal of Air India to bring him some soup packets which you can only find in Hong Kong…Pancham even sent him a telegram, “Don’t forge t my soup.” The telegram was signed Soup Lover.
As young men in our 20s, we shared many common interests– interests in home-cooked food and in sports. He was a soccer fanatic, he was a true Mohan Baganian, he’d get into heated argu- ments with (director) Gogi Anand over socce r. Yet Gogi remained Pancham’s friend till the end.
Pancham married Jyoti. It was a love marriage, but I think it didn’t work out because they were two very different people. He was immersed into films and music; he’d spend long hours away from home in the recording studio of Film Centre. He was so ob- sessed with his work that he had little time for any other love in his life.
Pancham was a terrific mouth-organ player; he played the organ in his father’s orchestra. And he was an outstanding sarod player too…he had trained under Ustad Ali Akbar Khan.
Pancham would have his differences with his father. But he was Sachinda’s only child, he was the pampered one. And he could get pretty possessive about his father. They hailed from a royal fam- ily; for them it was a matter of pride that they had carved out their own little kingdoms with their music.
There’d be good-natured bantering between them. “Baba,” Pancham would pout, “you don’t give me enough pocket money.” And Sachinda would laugh back, “Oi Pancham, when are you going to contribute to the kitchen expenses?” Whenever the son would try to shuffle out quietly from the music room, Sachinda would say, “Jao jao, I know you want to smoke a cigarette.”
Pancham would frequently compose his tunes in the course of car drives. He’d hum, we’d reach Film Centre and he’d say, “OK, you go home now, I’ve got the tune in my head. I’ll try it out with the musicians.” If he was especially excited about a tune, he’d scream with joy. He never kept his happiness within himself, he shared the moments of ecstasy with others.
Pancham would keep the actor’s face in mind while working on a composition. He’d tell me that, at times, he thought of my face while conjuring a tune–whi ch I thought was a great compliment.
{Excerpted from FILMFARE, 2/94}
==
Subject: RDBurman: “Flashback”
Source: Excerpt from article “Flashback” Indian Express Bombay Ed., Jan.9,1994.
Author: Lancy P Correa
Pancham, when queried about the super success of ‘Teesri Manzil’ once revealed how he got the God-sent offer. “When Nasir Hussain started the movie Dev Anand was the hero,” he had said,”and I was signed to compose the music. Later on, however, there were com- plications and Devsaheb couldn’t do the film for some reason, and Shammi Kapoor was signed on instead. When I heard about this new development I thought in my mind that ‘mera patta kat gaya’ (my chance is lost). Because Shammiji had his own troupe with Shanker-Jaikishan and I assumed that he would insist on the duo giving music for the film. But Nasirji insisted on retaining me, though Shammiji was not too keen. Anyway he came for the record- ing and was mighty pleased with my musical offering. The rest is history.”
Subject: The Swan Song
Source: Indian Express, Bombay Ed., Jan.16,1994.
Author: Lancy P Correa and Seema Sinha
The Swan Song
Looking back on the melody-rich life of R.D. Burman
From The Indian Express, January 16, 1994.
Music, His Birthright, was the title of Music Idia Limited’s cassette brought out some years ago to commemorate 15 years of the company’s tuning with Rahul Dev Burman, who left his musical journey unfinished as a stroke snatched him away on January 4, 1994.
For music indeed was everything for Pancham, the nickname given by the thespian Ashok Kumar, whose brother the late Kishore Kumar, gave some of his best performances when singing under the baton of RD.
A publicity-shy man, RD let his music do the talking for him. And talk it did – in more than 400 films. The unanimous opinion in the industry was that RD was the best among his peers – a gi- ant among music maestros like Laxmikant-Pyarelal, Kalyanji- Anandji, Ravi, Shiv-Hari, Rajesh Roshan, Usha Khanna and Ravindra Jain. Says Kersi Lord, whose father Kawas Lord like him was the arranger for many top music directors of yore, “There’s no doubt in my mind that R.D. Burman was the best. I played for him in many films. Infact it was RD who first introduced the electronic organ in India for the composition O mere sona re sona in Teesri Manzil for which I had the privilege of playing the organ.”
This aspect of introducing new styles was the main reason for his super success. In fact innovativeness became synonymous with RD. He has been quoted as saying: “I don’t say that I am a knowledge- able man when it comes to raags. I don’t say I tried to do so and so song in Raag Darbari or attempted some difficult raag in another song. Whatever comes to my head I compose.”
So we have such creative gems as diverse as Aaja aaja main hoon pyaar tera (Teesri Manzil), his passport into the big league, Dum maro dum (Hare Rama Hare Krishna), heralding the bell-bottom- hippie culture into filmdom, Muthukodi kawadi hada (Do Phool), which introduced comedian Mehmood as a singer, Jaane jaan dhoon- data phir raha (Jawani Diwani), where the echo effect was used tellingly, Ek chatur naar (Padosan), without doubt the most comic song ever to be filmed, Duniya mein logon ko (Apna Desh), intro- duced the distinct Pancham rhythm and voice, Mere naina saawan bhadon (Mehbooba), gave ample evidence of RD’s classical base, and Tu rootha to main (Jawaani), had Asha singing in an ephemeral voice to a new foot-stomping beat. Suggests veteran Dev Anand, a fan of RD’s father, the great S.D. Burman, “Pancham combined the tradition of Dada (S.D.) Burman and the modern melody. Dada wasn’t very happy about my Hare Rama Hare Krishna project, as he felt that the brother-sister story wouldn’t click therefore I de- cided to take his son. Within 10 days we recorded six songs! Dum maro dum became a cult song.”
The Pancham style came to symbolise a unique culture which spawned many die- hard fans. Says lyricist Majrooh Sultanpuri, with whom RD had a memorable innings, “Pancham had this knack of copying a foreign tune and Indianising it.” Concurs another top lyric writer Anand Bakshi, “I have worked with many music direc- tors but RD was just extraordinary.”
RD’s shrill intonations, an innovativeness that was too much for the conservative ’60s and ’70s, notwithstanding, his gurgling voice for Duniya mein logon ko (Apna Desh), Monica O my darling (Caravan), Mehbooba mehbooba (Sholay), Yamma yamma (Shaan), Samundar mein nahakar (Pukar), Sapna mera toot gaya (Khel khel mein) and Dil lena khel hai dildar ka (Zamane ko dikhana hai), were chart busters.
His repository of music didn’t end with songs, they extended beyond and embellished the background score too, a little known fact that many have found convenient to push under the carpet. Who can forget the memorable banshee wails in the greatest Hindi film ever, Sholay?
Recalls Rahul Rawail, who did seven films with RD: “He was a very enthusiastic person. I remember when we were struggling to get the background music in Betaab for Sunny Deol’s introduction. RD called me at 2 o’clock in the morning and suggested something that became a memorable signature tune.”
For all his talents and outputs, however, awards came in few and far between. He bagged two filmfare awards for Sanam Teri Kasam and Masoom but after many eons in filmdom. He narrowly escaped getting the national award for his music twice – first when Par- veen Sultana won the best singer award for Humein tumse pyaar kitna (Kudrat) and later in Gulzar’s Ijaazat when Asha and Gulzar bagged the awards for best singer and best poet. An irony it was that the jury deemed it fit to honour the film’s songs but keep the publicity away from the master. This was the way RD lived his public life-as private from the public as only he could keep it.
Many who were associated with him promised that they would work with him again even when he wasn’t quite the rage, but few kept their word. This life for RD in his later days was quiet on many fronts, with both health and friends deserting him. He died in his sleep leaving behind his dreams for a million melodies.
-Lancy P Correa and Seema Sinha.
Subject: Pacham Passion
Source: Screen
Author: Subhash K Jha (for Screen 1997)
Three years have gone by since R D Burman left us (January 1994). In the years preceding his sudden and irreplaceable demise his longstanding friends and admirers in the film industry had more- or-less dismissed the Burmanesque mystique as out of step with the times. R D Burman didn’t live to see the revival of interest in his music. If he had lived to experience the upsurge of laurels in the wake of “1942-A Love Story” he would have been more saddened than gladdened by our tendency to write off artistes of illimitable aptitudes when they hit a dark spot in their careers.
After being in his father’s shadow for several years and having ghost composed some of the senior Burman’s most successful compo- sitions in the ate sixties, junior Burman proved he was ‘beta’ than the best. RD made an immediate impact with two back-to-back antithetical scores in long-standing friend Mehmood’s “Chhote Nawab” and “Bhoot Bangla”. While the former contained such effulgent classical nuggets as “Ghar aaja ghir aaye badra sanwariya”, the latter found RD doing a tantalising twist that branded him as the most modern composer of our times.
One wonders what the shape of RD’s career would have been if early in his career Nasir Husain’s “Baharon Ke Sapne” had been the decisive blockbuster instead of Husain’s “Teesri Manzil”. If Baharon Ke Sapne had clicked RD would have had the chance to com- pose more compositions closer to his heart like “Aaja piya tohe pyar doon”; “Kya janoon aajan hoti hai kya” and “zaamane ne maarey jawan kaise kaise”. Wisely, the anthology released to observe the third year without RD Burman selects “zaamane ne maarey jawan kaise kaise” from “Baharon Ke Sapne”. This Burman score was brilliantly collaborated in the inceptive years of his career.
The collection lives up to the promise of delivering a rare largely obfuscated side of the Burmanesque genius. The side that never overcame hurdles imposed on the composer after the success of the rock n roll score in Teesri Manzil. One number out of fifty one selected for the collection alone suffices to lend a tonal multiplicity to RD’s enduring image as a versatile com- poser.
Listen to Lata Mangeshkar sing “O ganga maiyya paar laga de mere sapnon ki naiyya” for the long-forgotten Meena Kumari in April 1967. This precious composition from RD’s vast ditty-kitty is as purely Indian as the Ganga. One of Lata’s most cherishable songs, “o Ganga maiyya” has seldom been put in any anthology of RD’S or Lata’s songs.
The thrill of rediscovering a large number of RD’s nuggets that were sidelined by the failure of parent films, is sustained almost to the end of the anthology. There’s a telltale Rafi number from a pre-Zanjeer Amitabh Bachchan starrer. “Koi aur duniya mein tumsa” from “Pyar Ki Kahani” not only sounds very similar to RD’s “Maine poocha chand se” in Abdullah, the two com- positions are similarly worded and sung by the same singer Mohammed Rafi.
This collection stresses the more reflective artistry of Burman than previous collections. In this era when RD’s songs are being remixed and restructured to suit the chart’s purposes it is a pleasure beyond words to hear the originals. Without the untold benefits of multi-track recording facilities, R D Burman created edifices of enigma like “O hansini” in “Zehreela Insaan”; “Ni sultana re” in “Pyar Ka Mausam” and “Acchi nahin sanam dil lagi dil-e-beqaraar se” in “Rakhi Aur Hathkadi”. All these composi- tions of classic modernism co-exist happily in this sun-kissed anthology.
When the prolonged lean phase set into RD’s career circa the early Eighties RD was at the acme of his composing skills. The films that Burman composed for during the decade of doom, flopped. But were his longstanding filmmaker-friends like Meh- mood, Rahul Rawail, Ramesh Sippy, Nasir Husain and Raj Sippy impervious to the elevated quality of music that RD composed for these disastrous films? If they missed the point earlier on here’s their chance to catch up with the irrefutable convictions that Burman poured into songs from his flop phase. “O meri jaan” in Nasir Hussain’s “Manzil Manzil”; “Jeene de yeh duniya chahe maar dale” in Lava. “Kabhi palkon pe aanson hai” in “Harjaee” are among the choicest, most fluent and filigreed compositions of RD Burman’s career. They were also the essence of creativity in film music of the Eighties.
Why did RD Burman’s career get relegated to the back rows of the charts? It’s a pity he was born in an era when the fate of a film and its music scores were inextricably linked to each other. Today his imitators Jatin-Lalit become chart-ka-badshahs by echo- ing RD’s style in “Khamoshi-The Musical” even though the film is a disaster at the box-office.
“The Genius of RD Burman” album doesn’t do full justice to the composer. No single anthology can ever do that. What it does is familiarises listeners with some of the crucial career-defining make-or-break songs from RD’s repertoire. Back in 1979 when Hema Malini’s literary semi-classic Ratna Deep flopped its music too went down the drain. Today when one listens to RD’s “Kabhi kabhi sapna lagta hai” from the film one is filled with wonderment and admiration. Was the multi-talented RD Burman a mere dream?
Subject: R D Burman Song Sung Blue
Source: Filmfare, Feb 98
Author: Subhash K Jha
Remembering the finger-snappers and the soulful songs sung by R.D. Burman himself… on the occasion of his fourth death anniversary which fell on January 4, 1998.
It was an inherited talent. Music was a gift bequeathed to Rahul Dev Burman, who passed away so suddenly four years ago, by his father, Sachin Dev Burman. If Burman Dada immortalised himself with his two manjhi songs — O re manjhi (Bandini) and Sun mere bandhu re (Sujata) — Burman Baba belted out O manjhi teri naiyya se chhoota kinara in that long-forgotten river-bank(rupt) bilingual Aar Paar directed by Shakti Samanta.
This timeless manjhi song proves that Papa and Burman Jr were sailing in the same boat. Sadly, by the time RD’s boat sailed into the 1980s, it developed a leak. If the song hadn’t gone unnoticed, RD would surely have sung more such reflective quasi-philosophical songs.
Doubtless, the distinctive voice of R.D. Burman was capable of conveying the emotional of a lyric as well, if not better than some male playback singers who sang for him. This is specially true of RD’s tunes for Amit Kumar. In the popular Bade achhe lagte hain (Balika Badhu), Amit’s voice synchronises so well with RD’s that listeners can scarcely tell when Pancham stealthily slips into the number with the boatman’s clarion call O manjhi re jaiyo piya ke des… R.D. Burman often contributed key lines to his compositions without claiming credit. Though the legendary cabaret number Piya tu ab to aaja in Caravan is credited only to Asha Bhosle, Pancham’s banshee cries of Monica o my darling have rooted the number in the public’s mind.
In the hauntingly bare Kishore Kumar-Lata Mangeshkar love duet Hum dono do premee duniya chhod chale (Ajnabi), the composer chips in as the bystander at the railway station to ask where the fugitive lovers are off to.
In Lata’s version of Phoolon ka taron ka sab ka kehna hai (Hare Rama Hare Krishna), Pancham sings for ‘Daddy’ Kishore Sahu — with Daddy ka mummy ka sabka kehna hai ek hazaron mein teri behna hai… These incidental vocal appearances verify Pancham’s casual yet unforgettable artistry.
Recalls Gulzar, “Pancham was an excellent singer. He knew the nuances of classical singing. For my films, he sang only a couple of songs. But he lent his voice even so often. For instance, in Jabbar Patel’s Musafir, the boatman’s voice-over, is Pancham! As a singer, he would perfect a tune by singing it repeatedly. In the album that I did with him in 1994, listen to how well he has sang the numbers Raah pe rahte hain and Koi diya jale kahin (later rendered by Kishore Kumar and Asha Bhosle, respectively).
Then in Dil Padosi Hai, the original soundtracks by Pancham before they were dubbed by Asha Bhosle are superb. They show his range as a singer.
The solos and duets that R.D. Burman sang in the ’70s asserted his growing reputation as a rock-`n’-roll renegade. Somehow the serious songs sung by Pancham (such as the manjhi number in Aar Paar) never got their due. The hits that Pancham sang were almost invariably gimmicky.
With Mohammed Rafi, RD was heard in his element in the yummy Yamma yamma number in Shaan. RD’s most memorable duet of male bonding was the zany jazz-tinged title song of Gol Maal. Sung with Sapan Chakravarty, the song’s verve is unmatched by any other song of male bonding in the ’80s except perhaps Jaan-e-Jigar, the groovy Goan gaana that RD `dared’ to duet with his favourite male singer, Kishore Kumar in Pukaar.
Whenever R.D. Burman went solo, he made sure it was a song that needed his voice, and no one else’s. Incredibly, the all-time favourite Mehbooba oh mehbooba (Sholay), might not have been sung by Pancham at all. At first, this vibrant sexy titillator was to be sung by Asha Bhosle. When Jalal Agha was brought into the picture to lend a vocal drizzle to Helen’s sizzle, R.D. Burman was considered by Javed Akhtar, Anand Bakshi and Ramesh Sippy as the best bet for this number inspired by a Demis Roussos chart-topper.
Equally accomplished was Pancham’s interpretation of the locomotive rhythms of Dhanno ki aankhon mein raat ka surma. Gulzar’s words in Kitaab were transported to a wonderland of images. It became a voyage of self-discovery for Pancham. Equally devil-may-care was RD’s interpretation of the number Kal kya hoga kisko pataa (Kasme Vaade) and Samundar mein naha ke (Pukar).
And how elegantly Pancham wore the shirt of hurt into the two Nasir Hussain musicals Hum Kisise Kam Nahin and Zamane Ko Dikhana Hai. In the ever-young songs Tum kya jaano mohabbat kya hai and Dil lena khel hai dildar ka, R.D. walked tall over a terrain of pain.
The most meditative solo melody that Pancham sang was Yeh zindagi kuchh bhi sahi in the flop Kumar Gaurav-Poonam Dhillon starrer, Romance, containing some of RD’s best compositions ever. The emotional grip of the lyrical delivery rivals Kabhi palkon pe aansoon which Kishore Kumar sang for R.D. Burman in Harjaee.
With his singing soul companion Asha Bhosle, R.D. created a dense romantic atmosphere. Though they sang no more than seven or eight full-fledged duets, the slender repertoire created a voluminous impression because of their impact.
The first duet that R.D. and Asha sang was O meri jaan main ne kahaa (The Train). The Rajesh Khanna-R.D. Burman team that bloomed in the ’70s was in its infancy when R.D. composed and sang with Asha for The Train. The film had two strikingly original-sounding solos Gulabi aankhen by Mohammed Rafi and Kis liye maine pyar kiya by Lata. Inadvertently, the RD-Asha duet was left out, sidetracked.
R.D. Burman and Asha Bhosle had their revenge the very next year when their uptempo number outpaced all other chartbusters of Apna Desh. Their heat-and-run number? The high-pitched ode to raunch — Duniya mein logon ko dhokha kabhi ho jaata hai. The number stressed the outlandishness of Pancham’s vocals. Rajesh Khanna and Mumtaz were dressed as a couple of freakos in this climactic song.
Just when you thought they were the ’70s version of Sonny and Cher, belying all expectations, the RD-Asha pair hit an all-time high of emotional expression in Sapna mera toot gaya in Khel Khel Mein. While Kishore Kumar accompanied Asha in all the frothy fun duets in the film, R.D.Burman stepped in to create waves in this memorable song of parting and remembrance.
Peculiar, passionate and palpably Pancham is Na jaa jaan-e-jaan that largely ignored, scene stealer RD-Asha duet in Joshilay. Here and in the disco-very-very special of the ’80s, Jaan-e-jaan o meri jaan-e-jaan in Sanam Teri Kasam, Pancham stepped back into the shadows to let Asha `squeal’ the limelight. But his contribution to the two duets is like a mistletoe decorating a Christmas tree.
The last duet that R.D. Burman sang with Asha was Yeh din to aata hai (Mahaan). Sadly by then R.D. Burman’s career was under a cloud
There’s an interesting end-game associated with R.D. Burman’s career as a singer. In the selective, reluctant and meagre repertoire of songs that the chameleon composer chose to sing, one song is extra-special. Kya bhala hai kya bura in Gulzar’s unreleased Libaas. It’s one of the few film songs that dares to make light of the burden of existence.
The song is special for another reason. It’s the only time, Rahul Dev Burman dared to face at the microphone with the singer who had seen him as a child fooling around in shorts at his papa’s recordings… and whom the young adult-Pancham hesitantly approached to sing the first song that he ever composed.
That duet with Lata Mangeshkar was the last song R.D. Burman ever sang in a film.
Subject: A Most Versatile Music Director – An Obituary
Source: The Times of India, Delhi edition.
Author: Meera Joshi
A Most Versatile Music Director – An Obituary
The versatile music director, Rahul Dev Burman, 54, who died this morning following a heart attack at his Maryland apartment at Santa Cruz, was one of the giants of Indian film music.
Born on July 27, 1939, “RD” was the only child of the famous singer-music director, Sachin Dev Burman. He was brought up in Calcutta. Popularly known as Pancham (the nickname given to him by Ashok Kumar when he found him only singing pa…pa..pa from the “sargam”) he scored music for more than 350 films.
After coming to Bombay on completing his matriculation, RD learnt the sarod under Ustad Ali Akbar Khan And later Ashish Khan. He began to assist his father in music-direction. The first film he signed as an independent music director was “Bhoot Bangla” though his first release was “Chhote Nawab” for the same producer. His rise to fame was slow but steady. And in the early seventies, he had few competitors.
Dev Anand (“Hare Rama Hare Krishna,” “Heera Panna”), Shakti Sa- manta (“Amar Prem,” “Kati Patang”), Ramesh Sippy (“Sholay,” “See- ta aur Geeta”), Ramesh Behl (“Jawaani Diwaani”), Vinod Chopra (“Parinda,” “1942 – A Love Story”), Nazir Hussain (“Teesri Man- zil,” “Caravan,” “Hum kisi se kam nahin,” “Zamane ko dikhana hai”) and Gulzar (“Parichay,” “Ijaazat,” “Kinara,” “Khushboo,” “Aandhi”) were staunch RD loyalists.
While “Ijaazat” won him the National Award, RD bagged two filmfare awards for “Sanam Teri Kasam” in 1982 and “Masoom” in 9183. The MP govt. conferred on him with the Lata Mageshkar award for 1992-1993 for his “outstanding achievements and long-time de- votion to music.” The award carries a cash-prize of Rs. 1 lakh and a citation.
Among his most notable films were “Apna Desh,” “Aap ki kasam,” “Agar tum na hote,” “Betaab” and “Love story.” While “Drohi,” “Muskurahat” and “”Gurudev” were some of his recent releases, those still to hit the big screen include “Ajay,” “Ghaatak,” “Love and War” And “1942 – A love story.”
FUSION OF MUSIC: Panchamda was among the first to about the fu- sion of western rock and jazz with Indian classical music. Though he was often criticized for “borrowing” tunes and not being ori- ginal, he found nothing wrong with his style of working. He ad- mitted to taking off from his father’s tunes or others that in- spired him. And when younger composers followed in his footsteps, he took it as a compliment.
His last years were not too happy. When “Sagar” failed at the box office, he found himself being sidelined. The only two to stand by him were Dev Anand and Rajesh Khanna. He was shattered when he lost “Ram Lakhan,” which Shubash Ghai had promised him, to Laxmi- kant Pyarelal, the duo who had played in his orchestra.
Following a heart attack in 1988, he underwent a bypass surgery abroad the next year. While recuperating he is said to have com- posed over 2,000 tunes which he kept in his memory bank. He often said that his best tunes came to him in his dreams and that he had to be in happy frame of mind even while composing sad tunes. “When I am down, I end up making a mess of things,” he is report- ed to have said.
The music-maestro also composed non-film music. His two most not- able attempts in this field were the international album “Pan- tera” which he brought out in collaboration with the Latin Ameri- can composer, Jose Flores, and “Dil Padosi hai” sung by Asha Bhonsle with lyrics by Gulzar.
Rahul Dev married Rita in 1960 but they were divorced in 1974. He then married Asha Bhonsle for whom he had composed many a memor- able song in 1980. Indeed, the RD-Asha duo delighted audiences the world over with their “live” performances, with RD’s showman- ship and Asha’s natural exuberance making them the perfect pair. It was only fitting that Asha was there at his bedside when RD breathed his last.
Subject: R.D. Burman
On January 4, 1994 at 3:58 a.m. Indian music lost one of the greatest music directors of all time. Rahul Dev Burman (R.D. Burman) more affectionately known as ‘Pancham Da’ passed away, leaving behind him a whole generation of his admirers, shocked at the sudden loss. Also he has left behind a void that will be very difficult to fill.
His greatness is illustrated by the fact that even today people young or old sing and dance to songs like ‘Mehbooba Mehbooba’ from Sholay or ‘Dum Maro Dum’ from Hare Rama Hare Krishna films, which had been released nearly 25 to 30 years ago. The point one is trying to prove here is that R.D. had the imagination and vision so many years ago to use the kind of instruments and create music that no other music director could.
Background :
He started his career with his father the legendary Sachin Dev Burman (S.D.Burman). But there was never any doubt that when R.D. would start composing independently comparisons with his father would be inevitable. Perhaps that is one reason when R.D. started composing on his own he made a conscious effort to experiment with different instruments. It was almost that he wanted to rebel and tell the world through his music that R.D. and S.D. were two different individuals with their own distinct styles.
The reaction of his parents on R.D not choosing to continue assisting his father:
Although his parents were hurt when R.D. branched out to compose on his own , his parents still remained justifiably proud of him. ‘Tell me,’ said his mother Meera who assisted S D, ‘Is there a composer in our films today who could have done the classy music of Amar Prem along with the jazzy music of Hare Rama Hare Krishna?
S D Burman shared his wife’s pride — he had refused to go along with Dev Anand’s idea of him doing the traditional tunes of Hare Rama Hare Krishna (as S.D. had composed the music of Guide) and giving Pancham only the ‘Dum Maro Dum’ number. ‘Never mix our musical identities,’ S D Burman had told Dev Anand. ‘Let Pancham compose the entire music as I have trained him to do both traditional and modern music.’
R.D’s path breaking and nonconformist style-style that also typecast him:
Like the rest of the world India too wasn’t spared of The Beatles mania. R.D. cashed in on this by giving the fans Rock and roll music at its best in films like Teesri Manzil, Bramhachari and Yaadon Ki Baraat. In fact Teesri Manzil won spot recognition for him as a music maker with his own style distinct from that of S.D. Burman — but sadly the same music also typecast him.
Talks had begun to emanate from some quarters that R.D. was good at only composing racy numbers and when it comes to composing classical music he was not as good as his father. He even lost out to Madan Mohan on a popular award for the best classical song of the year award. The argument by the jurists was . ‘How could the jurists even nominate a song by R. D. Burman for such a prestigious award?’
The myth that R.D’s music was only beat based and his losing out on Sankarabaranam:
Yes the argument that R.D. was beat based is correct but he was also melody-based. In fact, by the time ‘Sankarabharanam’ (from the South) came to make cinematic waves, Pancham longed to break out of the tight circle of the trendy music he was acclaimed for composing. His point was that if he had indeed set a trend in the early ’70s, it was for the younger composers to take over the baton in the mid-’80s. He himself, by 1985, yearned to compose melody-based music, as he had for Gulzar’s Aandhi, Khushboo, Kinara, and Namkeen. ‘I love doing soft themes,’ he once confessed. The music for the film was ultimately composed by Laxmikant-Pyarelal as the distributors refused to buy the film. Their argument was how could a guy like R.D. Burman compose music for a film whose theme was classical music.
The Gulzar connection:
In Gulzar’s Ijazaat, R.D refused to compose the song, ‘Mera kuch saaman mujhe lauta do’ as he described it as a ‘metreless’ piece of rhyming. But the song got Asha Bhosle The National award for the Best Singer. It is however sad that some other good songs with Gulzar never reached the people in his lifetime. Like his stunning Lata Mangeshkar solo ‘Sili hawa chhu gai, sila badan chhil gaya’ from Libaas, a film that was never released or her ‘Kuhu kuhu koyaliya’ in Devdas. Then there was ‘Bahut raat hui’ by Kishore Kumar in Musafir.
The point here is that R.D., though tuned in with such melody-based themes, was stuck with his modern image. His ‘Saare ke saare gama go lekar gaate chale’ by Kishore Kumar, Asha Bhosle and chorus in Gulzar’s Parichay is one such a take-off.
Couldn’t get rid of the ‘modern’ label:
It was this tinsel-tag that he was stuck with after having already composed so much meaningful music that distressed and disheartened him. Few people know that R.D’s first hit was a classical song ‘Ghar aaja ghir aaye’ sung by Lata Mangeshkar for Mahmood’s Chhote Nawab. Other classical gems like ‘Vinati karun ghanashyam’ sung by Lata Mangeshkar in Pati Patni, ‘Bada natkhat hai re’ again sung by Lata Mangeshkar in Amar Prem and Manna Dey’s, ‘Aayo kahan se Ghanashyam’ in Buddha Mil Gaya, ‘Huzoor is tarah se no itrate chaliye’ sung by Bhupendra and Suresh Wadkar in Masoom were also R.D’s compositions.
Whatever labels people attach one thing is sure there will never be another Trendsetter, another rebel and of course another R.D.
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Subject: The Sound of RD’s Music – A Tribute
Source: Times of India, 1994
Author: Raju Bharatan
The Sound of RD’s Music
by, Raju Bharatan
(Times of India, 1994)
The one who ruled the sound waves through the ’70s is no more in the ’90s. It seems incredible that the man who shook the stalwarts like only C. Ramchandra did in the ’40s and O.P. Nayyar in the ’50s should, in the end, have been consumed by the genie he uncorked.
Kishore Kumar’s passing in October 1987 found R.D. Burman feeling suddenly diminished in composing stature. The sound of the voice, through which Rajesh Khanna had arrived like an avalanche in Aradhana, was stilled. Yes, it can now be told that it was R.D. Burman, not S.D. Burman, who conceived and executed the music score of Aradhana.
Dada Burman was far too ill during the recordings of Aradhana to alter substantially the shape and direction RD gave to the film’s tuning and orchestration. Insiders knew this, none more so than Shakti Samanta as the maker of Aradhana.
That is the reason Shakti turned from SD to RD for Kati Patang and Amar Prem. I was among the select invitees to “The Jet” home of Dada Burman to announce the release of the records of Aradha- na. Everyone present there that evening showered high praise on Dada Burman for what sounded even then a path-breaking score. Everyone present there that evening ignored the son standing in the corner of the drawing room, the son who had been instrumental in creating this totally fresh-sounding score.
Is is not significant that RD chose to break away from SD after Aradhana, for mother Meera Burman to emerge as the chief assis- tant of Dada Burman with Tere Mere Sapne, when the credit for the wave-making tunes of Aradhana went entirely to the father? It is as if in that moment, in which he stood isolated in “The Jet” corner, RD took a spot decision to cease to be SD’s chief assis- tant and move out to be his own music man, make his own individu- al mark as a composer off the beaten sound track.
There was a whole new generation of music lovers waiting to be conquered by Kishore Kumar and Rajesh Khanna on the oral evidence of Aradhana. And RD soon made this generation empathethically his own to change the visage and format of Hindustani film music with Jawani Diwani.
“I feel sorry to say this, but the boy doesn’t understand poetry at all,” Majrooh told me. To which I replied: “But Majrooh Saab, even Dada Burman did not understand Hindi poetry.” Majrooh’s counter to that: “Dada Burman might not have understood Hindi, but he understood poetry, which is the same in any language.”
Give RD credit for the fact that he remained wholly undeterred by such innuendo regularly hurled at him. RD had tuned with the same Majrooh to metamorphose the sound of film music with Yaadon ki Baarat. It was the same Majrooh I encountered in RD’s Santa Cruz music room, sheepishly handing over to the composer “a piece of paper that’s not poetry”, to quote his own words.
Majrooh need not have bothered to stress his point. RD asked for poetry only when he needed it. And when he needed it he went to Gulzar, knowing Majrooh could never bring himself in tune with his generation even if he condescended to write for it. For only a Gulzar could comprehend RD’s depth of feeling in an Ijaazat vein of Mera kuchch saaman tumhare paas pada hai. In the Ghar of Gulzar alone could RD fly with his notes: Aaj kal paaon zameen par nahin padte mere.
I heard those RD notes fly one last time on December 21, as I chased Pancham on the phone, to Film Centre, Tardeo, to invite him for my daughter’s wedding reception. I was put through straight to RD’s recording room and, during the four-five minute wait, thrilled, on the phone, to the harmony of what, ironically, was to prove Pancham’s last live recording. As the tune came resonantly over, as RD lost no time after that on coming on the line, I said: “Congrats, the sound of RD music, it’s still so re- freshing, though the tune sounds suspiciously like Raat akeli hai from Dada’s Jewel thief!”
“Who can escape your ears!” moaned RD. Spare a thought, there- fore, for twice-widowed, Asha Bhonsle, whose “amazing breath con- trol” in Raat akeli hai Dada Burman publicly praised. It was this that RD harnessed to his art and craft to bring to our film music a new vim, a new vitality, as a composer who understood both electronics and Western notation.
Asha and Kishore, the two formed the life-breath of RD’s music. Yet RD was so versatile that, like SD in Taxi Driver, he could get Lata, as late as 1969, to ‘do an Asha` all through Pyar ka Mausam. Lata spelt melody, Asha rhythm, in RD’s recording room. A spontaneous tribute to RD’s hold on the public imagination came from Ravi Shankar when Panditji was engaged with a Meera record- ing. An instrumentalist played a wrong note for Ravi Shankar who whispered through the mike: “I say, play it right, otherwise it will become RD on the LP!”
*** [Now that sounds very derisive on Ravi Shankar’s part, doesn’t it? Or am I missing something? Why Bharatan would want to cite this remark as a compliment to RD beats me. If I have read it right, it just goes to show that even great musicians like Ravi Shankar are not above talking through their hat even on matters musical! – RP] ***
Laxmikant-Pyarelal were the only ones in the late ’70s to ward off the RD challenge. The duo had to work extra hard to overcome the solo maestro. Dev Anand found RD to be in such wonderful tune with the spirit of the film that he wanted, from the outset, that Pancham, as he was affectionately called, score Hare Rama Hare Krishna independently. But how was he going to jettison Dada Bur- man, who had come to symbolise the Navketan signature tune? Dev told me that he cleverly suggested to Dada Burman that he compose the traditional tunes for Hare Rama Hare Krishna, leaving his son to do the mod songs.
“No way!” said Dada. “Let Pancham do the film all by himself. Pancham is now a full-fledged music director, Dev. My combining with him, for the first time in our careers, will help neither me nor him. So let the entire Hare Rama Hare Krishna score be Pancham’s.”
Remember, Dev’s Ai meri topi palat ke aa tune in Funtoosh had been composed by prodigy Pancham at the age of nine. Dada had quickly filched his own son’s tune! Upon Pancham’s asking how Dada could possibly palm off RD’s tune as SD’s, Pancham had quot- ed Dada as saying: “I was testing your tune on the public! Now that Ai meri topi has proved a hit, I know you will make it as a composer when your time comes.”
That time came much earlier than expected when Guru Dutt booked 19-year-old R.D. Burman to score the music for his Raaz. The film was later shelved after RD had done the musical spadework for it. “How did you find working with Guru Dutt?” I asked Pancham. “Want the truth? I found Guru Dutt to be most whimsical. No tune Guru Dutt okayed was ever final. What he approved this evening he would scrap next morning!”
“Was your experience the same with Raj Kapoor on Dharam karam?” I sought to know. “On the contrary, I found Raj Kapoor very firm in his judgement,” noted Pancham. “I felt distictly shaky about the fact that the very first tune I was asked to compose for Dharam Karam was to be in Mukesh’s voice on Raj Kapoor, who’s playing the piano in the film. I came up with a selection of six tunes fearing the worst. But Raj Kapoor okayed the very first tune I played, adding by way of bonus: ‘Hit tune hai, bottle kholo!` That’s how my very first tune for RK went on the screen as Ek din bik jaayega maati ke mol.”
Yet his best lesson in music, said Pancham, came from his father SD. Shakti Samanta had outlined to RD something that sounded to Pancham like the usual bhajan situation (on Sharmila Tagore) in Amar Prem. “And I had come up with the standard bhajan tune for it,” revealed Pancham. “But Dada was there when I was giving the finishing touches to the tune and wanted from me the precise de- tails of the song situation. When I gave him a picture of the setting in which Lata Mangeshkar was to render the number on Sharmila Tagore, Dada was aghast.
“But where’s the composer in you in this tune, Pancham?” he want- ed to know. “So what if Shakti said it’s the usual bhajan situa- tion. Still it’s a most creative situation for any composer. For Sharmila here is something more than the nautch-girl she plays. Her motherly insticts have been aroused by that kid. Your tune therefore must communicate all the agony of the nautch-girl want- ing to be the mother she can never be. Do it again, your way, but with the moving human situation in mind.”
“That’s how,” admitted Pancham, “my Amar Prem tune finally came out of Lata’s thrush throat as Bada natkhat hai re Krishna Kanhaiyya. It was my tune and yet not my tune, for it was Dada who had taught me to put the right shade of feeling into it.”
There was thus something of Dada Burman, something recognisably his own, in the music so trendily made available by Rahul Dev Burman. This is what saw RD score as no other composer did in the annals of Hindi cinema. There has been only one SD, to be sure. But there has also been only one RD. Now both are no more. And popular music, in the words of Gulzar, is reduced to a plas- tic art.
Subject: RDB: In Memoriam
Source: Midday (Jan 6 96)
Author: Raju Bharatan
A Most Versatile Music Director – An Obituary
Yesterday was R D Burman’s second death anniversary. Also yester- day, Asha Bhosle was in tune with R D Burman, while day before yesterday, she harmonised with O P Nayyar, and today, she is in sync with A R Rahman. Tell me, has there been a singer who has gone along with a Trendsetter of the 50’s, the 70’s and now, the 90’s?
What Asha, therefore, had to say of Pancham when he was living acquires an even deeper meaning — now that R D Burman is no more.
“Do you know”, revealed Asha to me once, “that Pancham would literally dance while recording a Khel Khel Main due like `Sapna mera toot gaya’. Even as Pancham danced, I got the flow of rhythm, the mood of the song and could add that bit more to the number as I watched this born composer foot tappingly express himself to the singer.
In this sense, Kishore and Pancham were made for each other.
“I remember Pancham rehearsing Kishore and me for S D Burman’s Nau Do Gyrah duet, `Aankhon mein kya ji’. What I didn’t know then was that the tune idea of `Aankhon mein …’ was RD’s, not SD’s! Likewise, I recall — once again without knowing the original tune to be the son’s — Pancham coming to rehearse with me for Dada Burman’s Teen Deviyan duet, `Arre yaar meri tum bhi ho gazab’.
When R D Burman finally became a music director himself, even after coming up with a truly inspiring tune like `Aa jaa aa jaa, main hoom pyar tera’ for Teesri Manzil, Pancham had this habit of querying: `Do you think this song is good?’
“With my long experience of singing, I could feel it in my bones that `Aa jaa aa jaa’ was going to make waves. But Pancham those days (mid ’60s) lacked the gumption to assert his viewpoint.
“In fact, I had to take `Aa jaa aa jaa’ to Lata didi for Pancham to be convinced that it was a beat-based tune without parallel in the annals of our music. Didi sat up with a jerk as I hummed the Pancham refrain, `Aa jaa, aa jaa, aa jaa, aa jaa, aa ja, aaa …’. Didi told me I should not change a note, that I should give this part of the song to Pancham exactly as he wanted it ren- dered.
“I had asked Pancham for a day to make up my mind whether I wanted a change here — I was then an established singer, he a rising composer. I mention this only to bring into focus Pancham’s being needlessly conscious of his junior stature in the music world.
“I knew him to be set for big things from the moment I rendred `Maar daalega dard-e-jigar koi iski dawa kijiye’ from Pati Patni.
I had discovered that even a seasoned singer like me, to be effective here, had to keep a careful count of the beat.
“It is this unusual beat of his that finally enabled Pancham to carve out a niche for himself. Pancham had picked up from his father the art of engaging Kishore and me in no end of verbal teasing. There always were those naughty Pancham `touches’ in a duet by Kishore and me. How mentally nimble I had to be to ensure that Kishore did not steal the moment from me!
“But Pancham was always there to even out things. That’s how we three — Pancham, Kishore and I — could come up with masti bhare duets like `Jaane-e-jaan dhoondhta hi raha’ and `Agar saaz cheeda tarane banege’ in Jawani Diwani’ `Bhali bhali si ek soorat’ in Buddha Mil Gaya; `Rekha o rekha jabse tumhen dekha’ in Adhikar; and `Hawa ke saath saath’ in Seeta Aur Geeta. With Panc- ham, there to even out things between Kishore and me, there was no limit to my sense of innovation under this flexible baton.
“It took me long, very long, to grasp the fact that Pancham was a composer first, a husband after. For instance, it didn’t matter if he slept on the floor, but his recording system, his stereo, had to be immaculately kept in the place. Pancham lived, ate and slept music.
“You couldn’t find a gentler husband, once you left him with his music — in peace to create something out of this world like `Mera kuchch saaman tumhare paas pada hai’ for Gulzar’s Ijaazat. Look at the wildly irregular metre of this song lyric! Who, but Pancham could have so turned it as for it to fetch me the National Award as best Singer?”
Subject: The Burman Effect
Source : Midday,November 3,1999
WRITTEN BY: RAJU BHARATAN
Conveyed by: Sudhir Kulkarni
We are already into our 25th year without Sachin Dev Burman(October 31,1975) and soon,the new year 2000 will become a reminder of Rahul Dev Burman’s Death anniversary (falling on January 4).It was at a recording of Arjun in 1985 that I met RD to get him talking on his father.
Pancham began by noting how Dada Burman had first asked him to learn tabla playing.”But what’s there to learn in the tabla?”Pancham demanded to know.”Plenty”, Dada told him.”To be a composer, Pancham, the first thing you must develop is sense of rhythm. Learn the tabla seriously and you will develop a sense of rhythm that will stand you in good stead through your composing life.”
“And learn the tabla I did.”Pancham took up the story.”Not only the tabla but all its intricacies from Brijen Bishwas to whom Dada had sent me in Calcutta.How devastatingly accurate Dada had been when he observed that the tabla was the instrument that would develop my sense of rhythm. After learning from Bijendra, I came in further contact with the tabla through the wizard, Samta Prasad.Then Dada sent me to Ali Akbar Khan to learn sarod. In fact Dada saw to it that every morning before going to school, I went to the home of Ali Akbar.”
“Thus in my formative years,”pointed out RD,”Iderived the advantage of a unique musical mahaul. Dada was such an eminent musician that all these performers as juniors were in regular contact with him. Dada’s underlying idea, in putting me in touch with such fine musicians was to ensure that, as a would-be-composer, I got, early in life, the advantage of a kind of sangeet-bhara atmosphere I just couldn’t hope to have in the crassly commercial film industry of Mumbai.Thus, amazing as it might sound to you, I have my roots in Ali Akbar khan. Today,if I am asked to compose for a totally classical theme I know I would be equal to the job. Take, for instance, a theme like Sankarabharanam for the Hindi remake of which (Sur Sangam) you were kind enough to recommend my name first. What would I not have given to compose the music for Hindi edition of Sankarabharanam! Remember R.D.Burman is not all jazz and disco.Laxmikant Pyarelal did a good job on Sur Sangam.Yet I say,with all humility,that I would have done even better. Dada’s training equipped me for the most arduous classical theme. That my name was not acceptable to the distributors of Sur Sangam is unfortunate, what a one-dimensional impression the industry has of me a music person!
“From Dada I also learnt that composing is something you must do every day. No matter you have no films in hand, advised Dada.”Just make it a practice to sit down and compose five to six tunes a day. It is important to preserve the composing habit. If you compose five to six tunes a day, then, when it comes to choosing, you will find that you have done at least one worthwhile tune every day!”
“I made debut as a composer with Chhote Nawab,way back in 1961,”recalled Pancham.
“After that,Idid a couple of films and was jobless for a full three years.But what Dada said stuck in my mind. I religiously composed five six tunes a day. Then came Teesri Manzil (in 1966) and with it, the breakthrough. The tunes I had put in stock, guided by Dada’s dictum, helped me meet the demand without pressure when the rush to book me really began with Hare Rama Hare Krishna,”concluded Pancham.
It was Dada Burman who, when approached by Dev Anand for Hare Rama Hare Krishna, persuaded this actor-director that Pancham, at that stage, would be better suited to compose the theme.
Subject: Remembering RD
Source: Sunday Times of India, 1997
Author: Raju Bharatan
Hi,
The following article appeared in the Sunday Times of India, January 5, 1997, on the occasion of 3rd death anniversary of R D Burman.
— Raju Bathija The Sound of RD’s Music
by, Raju Bharatan
(Times of India, 1994)
Three years ago, on January 4, at 3:58 a.m., Rahul Dev Burman passed away, leaving behind him a whole generation of his admirers, shocked at the sudden loss. Panchamda was no more.
Soon after his death came the Filmfare award for his brilliant score of Vidhu Vinod Chopra’s 1942 — A Love Story. 1942 … also won Kavita Krishnamurthi her maiden Best Singer award for her compelling rendition of Pyaar hua chupke se.
If there was no argument regarding that posthumous award, there was no end of argument in the prestigious Sur Singar Samsad council in 1967 when it came to awarding Pancham for the best Classical Song of the Year. As the convener of the Sur Singar committee set up to pick that year’s Best Classical Song, I can state that Pancham lost that award in peculiar circumstances.
This was after he had shown his paces in Teesri Manzil (1966). Teesri Manzil won spot recognition for him as a musicmaker with his own style — distinct from that of S.D. Burman — but the same music typecast him. His O Ganga maiya, paar laga de meri sapno ki naiya … set in Raag Jogiya and sung by Lata Mangeshkar for the film Chandan Ka Palna was a strong contender for Sur Singar’s best Classical Song of the Year award for 1967. He himself had high hopes for the song. O Ganga maiya was shortlisted among the four songs in the final context that year, the other three being Lata Mangeshkar’s Maine range li aaj chunariya composed in Raag Pilu by Madan Mohan for Dulhan Ek Raat Ki, Asha Bhosle’s Saawan ke raat kaari karri in Raag Malkauns by Ravi for Meherbaan and Lata’s Dar laage garje badariya set in Raag Surdasi Malhar by Vasant Desai for Ram Rajiya.
Brijnarain, who headed the Sur Singar Samsad, called me frantically on the morning after we had bought R D Burman’s O Ganga maiya into the reckoning. “Are you out to destroy the classical reputation of Sur Singar?” he asked. “How could you as convener possible permit a song by R D Burman even to get a look-in at my Sur Singar?”. The award eventually went to Madan Mohan.
The way Pancham came to be jettisoned for that Sur Singar citation gives me the opportunity to draw attention to `the other side’ of Pancham. If he was beat-based, he was also melody-based. In fact, by the time Sankarabharanam (from the South) came to make cinematic waves, Pancham longed to break out of the tight circle of the trendy music he was acclaimed for composing. His point was that if he had indeed set a trend in the early ’70s, it was for the younger composers to take over the baton in the mid-’80s. He himself, by 1985, yearned to compose melody-based music, as he had for Gulzar’s Aandhi, Kushboo, Kinara and Namkeen. “I love doing soft themes,” he once confessed.
In Gulzar’s Ijazaat, Pancham’s Mera saaman mujhe lauta do (a song-lyric that he had at first refused to touch as a “metreless” piece of rhyming by Gulzar) went on to win, deservedly for Asha Bhosle, the National award for Best Song. Yet Pancham always regretted the fact that a few other beautiful songs that he evoked from Gulzar’s poetry never reached the people in his lifetime. Like his stunning Lata Mangeshkar solo from Libas — a film that was never released — Sili hawa chhu gai, sila badan chhil gaya or her Kuhu kuhu koyaliya in Devdas. Then there was Bahut raat hui by Kishore Kumar in Musafir.
The point here is that Pancham, though tuned in with such melody-based themes, was stuck with his modern image. His Saare ke saare gama go lekar gaate chale by Kishore Kumar, Asha Bhosle and chorus in Gulzar’s Parichay is one such a take-off. Yet Saare ke saare … carries a whiff of Raag Bilawal, which is the Hindustani parallel of Raag Sankarabharanam.
Indeed Pancham was my recommendation to director K. Vishwanath for sur Sangam, a classical remake of the film Shankarabharanam. But R D Burman’s name was rejected the moment it was mentioned to distributors. Sur Sangam was finally scored by Laxmikant-Pyarelal.
It was this tinsel-tag that he was stuck with after having already composed so much meaningful music, that distressed and disheartened Pancham. Initially, he has deliberately cultivated that image in an effort to sound different from his father. Even as he finally broke away from being S D Burman’s assistant, his parents remained justifiably proud of him. “Tell me,” said his mother Meera who assisted S D, “Is there a composer in our films today who could have done the classy music of Amar Prem along with the jazzy music of Hare Rama Hare Krishna?”
S D Burman shared his wife’s pride — he had refused to go along with Dev Anand’s idea of him doing the traditional tunes of Hare Rama … and Pancham the Dum Maro dum song in the film. “Never mix our musical identities,” S D Burman had told Dev Anand. “Leave Hare Rama … to be wholly scored by Pancham. I have trained my son to do both traditional and modern music.”
Pancham had, in fact, given the very first hit of his career — Ghar aaja ghir aaye sung by Lata Mangeshkar for Mahmood’s Chhote Nawab — which was set in Raag Maalgunji. It has he who gave us classical gems like Vinati karun Ghanashyam in Raag Jogiya (Lata Mangeshkar in Pati Patni), Bada natkhat hai re in Raag Khamaj (Lata Mageshkar in Amar Prem), Aayo kahan se Ghanashyam also in Raag Khamaj (Manna Dey in Budha Mil Gaya), Karvate badalte rahen in Raag Pahadi (Lata Mageskhar-Kishore Kumar in Aap Ki Kasam), Mere naina sawan bhado in Raag Shivranjani (Lata Mageshkar-Kishore Kumar in Mehbooba), Jamuna kinare aa jaa in Raag Maru Bihag (Lata Mangeshkar in mehbooba), Meri bheegi bheegi si (Kishore Kumar in Anamika) in Raag Kirvani, Beeti no betayi raina (Lata Mageshkar-Bhupendra in Parichay) in Raag Bihag, Huzoor is tarah se no itrate chaliye (Bhupendra-Suresh Wadkar in Masoom) in Yaman Kalyan. Even Asha Bhosle-Mohammed Rafi qawali Hai agar dushman dushman in Hum Kisse Kum Naheen has R D imparting a typical light touch in Raag Kalavati.
And wasn’t Pancham merely returning to his Rabindra Sangeet roots with 1942 — A Love Story when he came to be halted in mid-stride at a time when he was in the truly creative phase of his career? The end came too soon; time stood still — much like his lyrical Samay ka yeh pal tham sa gaya hai…
Subject: R D Burman: Trendsetter
Source: Screen, Jan 1994
Author: Raju Bharatan
Hi,
The following article appeared in Screen, dated January 14, 1994, immediately after untimely death of R.D. Burman, on 4th January, 1994.
— Raju Bathija He was a jet-set trend-setter
by, Raju Bharatan
Screen, January 14, 1994
Naushad Ali, in his prime, was referred to as `The Maestro with the Midas Touch’. I would likewise refer to Rahul Dev Burman as `The Maestro with the Mod Touch’.
“RD Was by far the stand-out talent among the younger line of composers, at all times innovative like me, at all times experimenting like me,” says Salil Chowdhury. “In fact, I would go step further and rank him alongside all the top composers of my generation, such was his range and variety.”
Salil is never one given to sentiment, not even when he is speaking of a composing prodigy who is no more. Salil, in fact, has no great opinion of Naushad. But he does rate RD highly. Salil’s point is that Naushad was, at all times, predictable, RD was not.
To each his own view. But RD’s early passing should teach us vintagers a permanent lesson: Never to be dismissive of young talent. The Naushad-S.D. Burman generation consistently ran down R.D. Burman. Today, when so many of RD’s tunes live on in the mind and heart after his death, the generation is constrained to revise its view.
That is why I would not hesitate to pass instant value judgment on either Nadeem-Shravan or Anand-Milind. Copy they may, but was there any composer in his time who was accused of being more imitative than R.D. Burman? The point is, within the ambit of being imitative, you can be creative. You can bring your own stamp even to a tune whose base is borrowed. This RD consistently did. Much of his early work was considered inspired by foreign composers. Yet he stayed on to become an inspirational influence to the younger array of composers. So fresh-sounding was RD that you just could not believe he was on the scene for 33 years. RD, in his lifetime, could not even dream of the possibility of his death meriting an editorial in The Times of India. Even his illustrious father was not accorded this editorial distinction when SD discovered, on October 31, 1975, that somebody up there liked him even more than we mere mortals on earth did.
Dada Burman composed some of his best tunes for Bimal Roy’s Devdas: Talat’s Mitwa mitwa yeh kaise anbhuj aag re and Kis ko khabar thi kis ko yakeen tha, Lata’s Ab aage teri marzi, O jaane wale ruk jaa koti dam, Jise tu kabul kar le, Geeta-Manna’s Aan milo aan milo Shyam saanwre, Saajan ki ho gayi gori and, not the least, Mubarak Begam’s Who no aayege palat ke and Rafi’s Manzil ke chah main. When word spread that R.D. Burman was scoring the music for Gulzar’s `Devdas’, the idea of his compositionally measuring up to his father was treated with withering contempt. But, today, can we be sure tht RD would not have done as good a job as SD on `Devdas’? After all, RD had his roots in Ali Akbar.
Just think, would the Gulzar-RD teaming not rank as being as creative as any musical collaboration we have known in our films? Who but the Gulzar-R.D. Burman du could have got Lata-Kishore to articulate, as tellingly in `Aandhi’ as these two singers did, Tere bina zindagi se koyi shikwa to nahin, Is mod se jaate hain and Tum aa gaye ho noor aa gaya hai? Who but this team could have got Bhupinder to blend so sensitively with Lata in Beeti no beetayi raina (“Parichay”), Meethe bol bole bole paayaliya (“Kinara”) and Naam gum jaayega chera yeh badal jayaega (“Kinara”).
Lata’s articulation of Meri awaaz hi pehchan hai gar yaad rahe has become the Gulzar-RD puchline by which her velvety vocals are treated by us now and forever. Much like Asha Bhonsle, in her profound grief, being left all to herself today in a Bharat Vyas-. Bulsara vein of jag ke liye, aaj rone do mujhe pal ek apne bhi liye.
The Gulzar-RD combine, on Hema Malini in `Khushboo’, offered us a spot comparison of the best that could be drawn out of Asha and Lata alike on the same heroine: Bechare dil kya kare sawwan jale bhadon jale, on the one hand, do naina mein ansoo bhare hain nindiya kaise samaye, on the other.
I have studiedly touched on the softer side of RD, which was best represented in his case by Gulzar, to bring home Pancham’s true intrinsic worth as a composer. As the pace-setter, RD was the trend-setter in the 70s. If the 90s found him confused and uncertain about what to give, it was because RD made the cardinal mistake of going public, in the film glossies, about the fact that 23 of his films had flopped in a row.
You do not do this in films, where a 24th film could prove a superhit and wipe out the memory of all earlier failure. As it turned out, that 24th film was `Sunny’, the film in which RD showed his class afresh the way he got Asha and Suresh Wadkar to vocalise the tandem: Aur kya ahd-e-wafa hote hain. But the resurrection came too late. RD had irretrievably damaged his cause with that `23 flops’ acknowledgment. Look at Naushad, to this day he carries on as though nothing has happened.
But RD, he was incredibly naive for one who had hit the high spots. For one who had been a wave-maker, RD just did not know how to blow his own trumpet, he needed Bhupinder to do that for him! RD strangely had no comprehension of his own talent, no sense of achievement. Even his father did not settle for the `Chalti ka Naam Gaadi’ attitude that RD did. This, when RD was no less adept at scoring in every idiom, ranging from Kishore-Manna-Mehmood’s ek chatur naar kar ke singar (`Padosan’) to Asha’s Mere kuchh saaman tumhare paas pada hai (`Ijaazat’).
Asha aptly pinpointed RD’s contrasting class when she named Mera kuch saaman tumhare paas pada hai (`Ijaazat’) and O mere sona re sona re sona re (`Teesri Manzil’) among her ten best of all time. Likewise, Kishore Kumar had accorded RD a rare honour when be picked not one but wo of his tunes among his all-time ten best: Chingari koti bhade (from `Amar prem’) and Mere naina saawan bhadon (from `Mehbooba’). No doubt, Kishore Kumar was to RD what Mohammed Rafi was to OP. Yet there was no cause for RD to have sat paralysed for as long as he did when Kishore passed away. It was a body-blow, of course. But never in this industry must you give the impression that it is a death-blow. RD did exactly that on the passing away of Kishore.
With reason, you might say. After all, who but Kishore could have rendered for RD with such meaning and feeling, O mere di ke chain (`Mere Jeevan Sathi’), Kehna hai kehna hai khena hai aaj tume yeh pehli baat (`Padosan’), O maanjhi re (`Khushboo’), Musafir hoon yaaron (`Parichay’), Yeh jo mohabbat hai (`Kati Patang’), Raat kali ek khwab main aayee (`Buddha Mil Gaya’), Diye jalte hain (`Namak Haram’), Zingadi ke safar mein (`Aap Ki Kasam’), Meri bhigi bhigi si (`Anamika’) and Kuchh to log kahenge (`Amar Prem’) to mention just a fistful of tunes that lend teeth to the argument that RD it was who, even more than SD, switched the aural-oral allegiance of a whole new generation from Rafi to Kishore.
RD had proved with `Bhalika Badhu’, in 1976 itself, that he had only to wok on son Amit Kumar to draw out of him the Kishore Kumar effect: Bade ache lagte hai, yeh dharti yeh nadiya hey raina aur tum. It would have needed very hard work on RD’s part, no doubt, to get Amit going in Kishore’s footsteps in the quicksands of filmdom. But he should have readied himself for this slog after having already scored with the same Amit Kumar in `Love Story’. Yet Pancham just sat back, arguing Kishore was Kishore. This was true. But only upto a point in films, where a music director has to be something of a quick-change artist. I am not arguing against Kishore Kumar, only for Amit Kumar. RD’s music had got so cast in the Kishore mould that, immediately, Pancham needed a prototype. And what better prototype than the son?
Of course, RD was unlucky that Kishore’s passing was followed by the first signs of a sway, in the industry, away from Asha Bhonsle. None of the new singers were a patch on Asha. But a younger set of music directors wanted younger singers. The Bhappi Lahiri challenge had built up to a point where RD should more urgently have explored variety in the voices he employed, without really moving away from Asha Bhonsle. But here, too, RD was slow to react.
Once again I am not arguing against Asha Bhonsle, only for R.D. Burman and the spirit of youth he had represented when he made his big breakthrough with the same Asha through `Jawani Diwani’, `Yadon Ki Baarat’ and `Khel Khel Main’. Asha, as the Mera naam hai shabnam – Piya tu ab too aa ja – Chura liya haim tume ne jo dil do – Sapna mera toot gaya girl had sex-symbolised the ethos of RD’s music in the 70s. But the 80s was a new decade that called for new adjustments.
RD, at one point, had overtaken the formidable team of Laxmikant-Pyarelal. But he let himself be beaten back by vastly inferior talents in the 80s, while Laxmikant-Pyarelal fought back like tigers. In retrospect, it can therefore be said that RD faltered at the crucial moment, LD didn’t. And this is an industry in which you are only as successful as your last film. A record of 23 flops took some living down. RD buckled under the pressure.
All this cannot alter the fact that RD set a trend with Asha as he did with Kishore. No other composer would have dared to jettison Rafi the way RD did — even Dada Burman was hesitant in making a switch here. But RD showed the way and others followed suit, courtesy Rajesh Khanna. Amitabh Bachchan, to beat Rajesh Khanna at his own game, had to take on his voice. Kishore thus became established as the Voice of Youth and it was RD who had set the course for this. RD’s hold on electronics, his insights into Western notation, gave him a rare edge. But, minus Kishore, RD found his keen edge blunted. There was a generation change due in our film music. RD failed to see this change coming in 1987 as he had one in 1971. The cross commercialism of the neo-film industry also undid him. When Bhappi Lahiri started quoting less at one point, RD should have stuck to his price. He caved in. And paid the price.
But the price never did matter much to RD. This way, he was like Dada Burman, who was happy working only in his set-ups. RD always was a bit of a loner, comfortable only in his own selection company. He was unsuited to the totally groupy style in which the industry began to function in the 80s. As Gulzar too began to lose commercial clout, there was less and less opportunity for RD to make a different kind of music, which he loved to do. He needed Gulzar badly to balance his hula-hula stuff. The `Ghar’ style of Gulzar option, by which RD could come up with something like Aaj kal paaon zamin par nahin padte mere (Lata) and Aap ke aankhon mein kuch mehke huye se raas hai (Lata-Kishore), was no longer available to RD in the late 80s.
RD’s mod image as a youth composer also became a bar to his inevitable growth as a composer. When `Shanarabharanam’ was to be remade in Hindi, the point about who should compose for the film was referred to me. I suggested the name of R.D. Burman and then rang to ask Pancham whether he was game. “I would love to do the theme, be sure I’ll surprise them with the purity of my classical score,” RD said.
Yet his image was all wrong for the theme. There was no chance, I was told, of the distributors accepting the label, `Music R.D. Burman’, in a weighty remake of the scale of `Shankarabharanam’. The remake finally went to Laxmikant-Pyarelal as `Sur Sangam’. The K. Vishwanath film flopped in the face of a thematic enough score by LP. What kind of a score would RD have created? The same kind as he would have evoked for Gulzar’s `Devdas’ vis-a-v9s S.D. Burman. But the RD image just did not classically jell.
It was this image that RD unsuccessfully fought in the later part of his career. As convener of the Sur-Singar Samsad Film Awards committee, i remember RD’s Lata classic from `Chandan Ka Palna’, O Ganga maiya paar laga de, coming up for live consideration. But it was finally rejected, not on its own merit, but on the grounds that Sur-Singar’s name would be in the mud if it presented a classical award to R.D. Burman.
In the end, therefore, RD discovered that he was acceptable neither as a light composer nor as a serious one. Result: he got confussed about what to give. And once this confusion enters a composer’s mind, it is the end.
Yet the end, when it came, saw those who had come to scoff, remain to praise. RD had become part of our vintage mind-set without our being aware of it. We knew, in our heart of hearts, that he was as much a trend-setter as his father, if in a different style. But we had religiously refused to acknowledge his fibre and calibre. Those who the gods love, die young. And when they die after having influenced a whole generation in its musical thinking, we finally grudgingly accept that the jet-setter was like one other in films.
For a composer of the depth and dimension of Salil Chowdhury to rate R.D. Burman alongside the top composers of his era is, indeed, acclaim indeed. It needed uncommon talent for the son to emerge from `The Jet’ shadow of his father. Pancham came into Dada Burman’s music room as early as `Nujawan’ (1951). And even at that early age had a keen enough musical ear to question SD’s use of Rabindra-sangeet in the purely Goan setting of Kaise yeh jaagi agan (`Jaal’).
Handpicked by Guru Dutt to score the music for his `Raaz’ at the age of 19, RD discovered that this cineaste was never firm on any tune he okayed. “I don’t know about other composers,” Pancham told me, “but I personally found Guru Dutt could never make up his mind about the final tune he wanted. You could never say he had finally okayed a piece of music and that, to my way of thinking, is not the sign of a direction who knows his mind. Raj Kapoor, by contrast, was totally different. He okayed the very first tune I played for `Dharam Karam’, the tune that acquired on him the grab of Ek din bik jaayega maati ke mol”.
Hear this `Dharam Karam’ tune carefully again, is it in any way inferior to any of the many straight-line tune Shanker composed for Raj Kapoor? Give credit to RD for the fact that he instinctively recognised what, precisely, Raj Kapoor wanted. And got it right the first time out. RD thus tuned as easily with Raj Kapoor as he had with Dev Anand. He vibed easily enough with Rafi when that singer was at the top. And then helped turn Kishore into a singing legend. If O.P. Nayyar peerlessly exploited the bass in Asha’s voice, it was RD who discovered her true range to strum.
RD’s spaciously ambient music room at Santa Cruz in Bombay, to who does it go? to Asha Bhonsle as his legally wedded wife? If so, what does Asha do with it? I know Asha Bhonsle has always secretly nursed this ambition of being a composer herself. Will Asha take up where RD left off? The spirit of RD, will it come back to us through the still resonant vocals of Asha Bhonsle? and what of younger singers under the baton of Asha Bhonsle? A baton what would have been handed on to Asha by her very own Pancham?
Come on Asha, there still is the Santa Cruz room at the top.
Subject: Mile Sur Mera Tumhara
Author: By V.N.Gupta
Four years ago on 4 January 1994, we lost a celebrated music director Rahul Dev Burman alias Pancham whose lilting compositions had captivated music lovers for three decades and who in his lifetime had become a living legend like his father Sachin Dev Burman.
Born on 27 June 1939, RD was an only child of his parents. He began by learning the basics of music from his dad but was later trained in classical music by the maestro Ustad Ali Akbar Khan. At the age of 18, he joined his father as an assistant who was then an established music director in films. Pancham often took the opportunity to play the mouth organ in his father’s orchestra. And it wasn’t just the mouth organ that he could play but almost all the other musical instruments as well.
RD marked his debut as an independent music director with the 1961 classic film Chhote Nawab. And made an impact with the classical and semi-classical numbers in the film. However, it was Teesri Manzil released in 1966 which proved to be a milestone. O mere Sona re Sona from the film is still very popular.
There have been very few who have equalled RD’s versatility in musical composition. RD created his very own style with a rare blend of western and Indian classical music, which later came to be known as the Pancham style. While on the one hand, Pancham catered to the popular taste in films like Hare Rama Hare Krishna, Jawani Diwani, Yaadon Ki Baraat, Kasme Wade, Sanam Teri Kasam and Caravan he also produced soul stirring music in films like Kudrat, Amar Prem, Aandhi and Ijaazat. RD’s orchestration and rhythm continuity were perfect. Few have forgotten the orchestration of Mere samne wali in the extremely funny classic Padosan and Musafir hoon in Parichay.As regards rhythm continuity, all we need do is to hark back to O majhi re from Khushboo and Ek ladki ko from 1942 – A Love Story, (Pancham’s last film for which he was posthumously awarded the Filmfare Award). Pancham was the first to make effective use of innovations in music technology including introducing stereophonic sound to enrich his music. But it was left to the lyricist-director Gulzar to coax the best out of Pancham. Indeed, there will be no exaggeration to say that Gulzar pulled Pancham’s career out of and beyond Teesri Manzil. The Gulzar-Pancham combination started with the film Parichay. Featuring great artists like Jaya Bhaduri and Sanjeev Kumar, the film also brought to notice, the presence of Master Raju who was all of two-and-a-half years then. But it was essentially songs like, Beeti na beetayi raina that made the film a memorable one. It fetched a National Award for Lata Mangeshkar. Pancham himself won the National Award for another of Gulzar’s film, Ijaazat, the songs for which had been sung by the inimitable Asha Bhonsle. The film’s numbers like Mera kuch samaan.., tanha, tanha baheti hai.. even today capture the mood of the moment.
Pancham also received the Filmfare Awards for the Best Music Director in 1983 and 1984 for the films Sanam Teri Kasam and Masoom respectively. He also received Lata Mangeshkar Samman in 1991. Pancham himself was an excellent singer. His song Mehbooba Mehbooba of Sholay became very popular. Today Pancham may not be among us, but he will always be missed by all who enjoyed his music.
