Thursday, September 11, 2008

12 September 08 (Death Anniversary of) JAIKISHEN

JAIKISHEN JI!

YOU ARE IMMORTAL LIKE YOUR MUSIC

WE MISS YOU

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They wrote the grammar, made the glamour

by : CHANDAN MITRA
COURTESY : www.dailypioneer.com/ columnist1.asp?main_variable=Columnist&file_name=mitra237.txt&writer=MITRA


Two years after the Union Jack was lowered for the last time on the land described as the jewel in the British crown and one year ahead of India maturing into the Commonwealth's first Republic, two talented young music-makers made a quiet entry into the fledgling Mumbai film industry. Both had migrated to the city from outside in the hope of making a living by playing at various orchestra bands, quite popular even after the British exited from the Gateway of India. Mumbai was fast turning into the film capital of the country, Kolkata yielding place to its more cosmopolitan west coast rival. The city benefitted further from the arrival of a large contingent of Punjabi theatre artistes and accompanying retinue from the sub-continent's cultural nerve centre, Lahore, which was awarded to Pakistan, forcing most Hindus of the city to flee to India. Not just Hindus, many cultured Muslims of Lahore realised soon enough that Jinnah's Promised Land would never respect artistic freedom and they too flocked to Mumbai to start an uncertain life from scratch.



The orchestra players became friends, managed to get odd jobs together and finally landed up at the studio Prithviraj Kapoor's eldest son had built in the city's suburbs. Being roughly the same age as the dashing young producer-director, they soon got along famously with him. Raj Kapoor had music running in his blood and he could immediately sense that the two young orchestra players had more to contribute than strains of the violin, mandolin or the melodious sound of the piano accordion. But young Raj didn't want to experiment wildly at the outset. He stuck to the tried and tested Ram Ganguly, established music director and his father's associate, for the first RK film, Aag. Considering his traditionalist worldview, Ganguly didn't do a bad job. Readers may recall the number Dekh chand ki ore musafir, dekh ghata ghanghor... which went on to be quite a hit.



In order to groom his friends for the succession, Raj Kapoor asked Ganguly to take them on as assistant music directors, putting them quite a few notches ahead of their contemporaries in Mumbai's nascent music industry. Raj did not wait too long before introducing them as music directors in their own right. Just two years later, he produced, directed and acted in Barsaat for which music was composed by the till then unheard-of duo. In any case, two musicians had never teamed up to compose melodies earlier and the hyphen between names in the credits was a novelty for filmdom. Thus the Shankar-Jaikishan jodi was born in 1949. And they blazed a trail like no other had done before and rarely thereafter. Till Jaikishan's premature death in 1971, the duo gave music for at least 250 films. Considering Bollywood was in its infancy till the late 1950s and adolescence till the 70s, this was a huge number. They were India's first masters of mass produced film music. They, more than any other composer, radically altered public taste, making film music the first choice of the post-Independence generation as it grew into adulthood in the 60s. Probably SJ's runaway success followed by the emergence of myriad clones dealt a body blow to the popularity of traditional music - pure classical (both Hindustani and Carnatic), and related forms such as dadra, thumri, dhrupad and bhajan - which held sway in the early decades of the gramophone record.





Shankar-Jaikishan introduced rampant Western instrumentation into Hindi film music compositions and brought in fresh voices to break away from the sway of the deep nasal intonation of classical-based singers like KL Saigal, Pankaj Mullick, CH Atma, Kanan Devi, Noor Jehan and others who dominated the 40s and early 50s. They broke with tradition by bringing in the guitar, bongo, trumpet and saxophone, blending these with the tabla, sitar and sarod. The audience was spellbound by their creativity, their effortless ability to merge folk with Indian classical, Western classical with waltz, foxtrot or rock-'n'-roll. With the same aplomb they could compose Rasik balma, dil kyon lagaya tose (Chori Chori) and Mud mud ke na dekh (Shree 420) or Ramaiya vasta-vaiya (Awara) and Jawaniyan yeh mast-mast bin piye (Tumsa Nahin Dekha), Tum bin sajan barse nayan (Gaban) and Is duniya mein jeena hai to maan lo meri baat (Gumnaam). For at least two decades, the Shankar-Jaikishan name spelt magic in the world of Indian music. They were also the first composers to take the charm of Indian music abroad. Even today, a hobo loitering the streets of Moscow greets an Indian passer-by with "Awara hoon" on his lips.



Admittedly, though, the Shankar-Jaikishan phenomenon was essentially a Raj Kapoor creation. They gave music almost uninterruptedly for all RK Films between Barsaat and Mera Naam Joker, barring two low-budget quickies (Ab Dilli Door Nahin, which had music by their assistant Dattaram of Saranga fame and Jaagte Raho for which Salil Choudhury was hired). It was only after the commercial failure of Raj Kapoor's grandiloquent autobiographical extravagance in 1970 that he chose to hand the RK baton to the then No 1 of the industry, Laxmikant-Pyarelal, in Bobby.



And what spectacular compositions Shankar-Jaikishan wove for Raj Kapoor! From Barsaat mein and Hawa mein udta jaye, SJ made sheer magic. But they really came into their own with Awara, breaking away from traditional moorings altogether. One of the lesser-known initial stanzas of a song in the film merits scrutiny to show how their mind was shaping. Few remember the introductory part of the popular number Ghar aaya mera pardesi. The song was picturised as an extravagant dream/nightmare sequence with fearsome demons in the backdrop amid clouds, demons that eventually transformed into popular Hindu gods. A traumatised Raj Kapoor is shown being torn apart by goodness and evil, while Manna Dey's voice pitches to almost shrill desperation, rendering "Yeh nahin hai, yeh nahin hai, yeh nahin hai zindagi, yeh nahin..." before dark clouds melt away to the soothing strains presaging Lata Mangeshkar's serene rendition of Ghar aaya. I have found this number to be illustrative of SJ's stupendous command over rhythm, for the beat changes with rapid frequency and the accompaniment lurches from the bongo to tabla with astonishing ease.





Shankar-Jaikishan baled the doleful voice of Mukesh out of his "poor man's Saigal" confines by branding him as Raj Kapoor's signature playback singer. It was Mukesh who gave Kapoor the stamp of authenticity, from Awara hoon, to Mera Joota hai Japani (Shree 420), Hoton mein sachai rehti hai and Mera naam Raju (Jis Desh Mein Ganga Behti Hai), O Mehbooba! O Mehbooba and Dost dost na raha (Sangam), Jeena yahan, marna yahan and Jaane kahan gaye wo din (Mera Naam Joker). In other films outside the RK banner such as Aashiq (Main aashiq hoon bahaaron ka) and Anari (Sab kuchh seekha humne, Kisiki muskurahaton pe hon nisaar and the lilting duet Dil ki nazar se), it was Mukesh who was Raj Kapoor's quintessential voice. This was such an established fact that producers wouldn't hear of anybody else if they got Raj Kapoor to act in their film. Thus, for Jaagte Raho, Mukesh rendered the drunken Zindagi khwab hai (Music: Salil Choudhury) on the lines of Mujhko yaaro maaf karna (Main Nashe Mein Hoon), Chhaliya mera naam and Dum dum diga diga (Chhaliya, Kalyanji Anandji), Ek din bik jayega (Dharam Karam, RD Burman) and even the quickie Do Jasoos with Ashok Kumar for which Ravindra Jain composed a highly forgettable score.



Raj Kapoor, Shankar-Jaikishan, Mukesh and lyricist-producer Shailendra along with director Basu Bhattacharya struck an extraordinarily creative note with the award-winning Teesri Kasam. Mukesh's numbers, especially Sajanwa bairi ho gayo hamaar and the more popular Sajan re jhooth mat bolo and Duniya bananewala, besides nautankis like Paan khaye saiyan hamaro, effortlessly rendered by Asha Bhonsle and Manna Dey's inimitable Bhojpuri number Chalat musafir, won huge acclaim. But sadly that came only after a heartbroken Shailendra, SJ's preferred lyric writer, committed suicide following its initial commercial failure. Mukesh was also their chosen singer for Manoj Kumar, who was slowly growing into a successful actor-director. In Haryali Aur Rasta, SJ composed some truly melodious numbers like Laakhon tarey aasmaan mein apart from the title song.



But SJ demonstrated rare courage to promote the highly underrated Manna Dey as Raj Kapoor's stand-in playback singer, entrusting him with some unforgettable melodies like Dil ka haal sune dilwala and the all-time romantic tune Pyar hua iqrar hua, besides Mud mud ke na dekh (with a then raw Asha Bhonsle) in just one film, Shree 420. They used Manna Dey for Joker's biggest commercial hit (Binaca Geetmala 1970s No 1) Ae bhai zara dekh ke chalo. In the non-RK Film's Raj Kapoor-Nargis starrer Chori Chori, they gave Mannada two magnificent melodies just up his street, Aaja sanam madhur chandni mein hum tum and Yeh raat bheegi-bheegi. They continued their association with Manna Dey even outside the Raj Kapoor matrix. From the balefully classical Sur na saje (Basant Bahar) to Balraj Sahni's Tu pyaar ka sagar hai (Seema), Raaj Kumar's Jhanak jhanak tore baje payaliya (Mere Huzoor) and Rehman's Raat Aur Din (Dil ki giroh khol do), SJ used the talented singer more effectively than any other Mumbai music director.



Shankar-Jaikishan's Kapoor khandaan connection flourished further with the arrival of Raj's flamboyant younger brother Shammi. This was announced to the world in style with the ear-shattering cry Yahoo! Chahe koyi mujhe junglee kahe. Such is its continuing impact on the Indian psyche that an e-mail service and search engine was named Yahoo! by way of tribute to the man who brought such cheer (and swagger) to Indian teenagers through the 60s and 70s. SJ made terrific music with Shammi, spanning the raucous (An Evening in Paris, Tumse Achchha Kaun Hai, Prince, to name a few), sensuous (Dilruba, dil pe tu from Rajkumar in particular, Aaj ki raat from Aman), and the mellifluous (Ehsan tera hoga from Junglee, Main gaaoon tum so jaao from Brahmachari, for example). For Shammi, SJ switched to Mohammad Rafi who could blend his voice to suit every requirement of the star's role. Between the three, they entertained an entire generation, which is why it's a bit sad that while today's middle-aged India remains passionate about Shammi and Rafi, few remember the makers of the melody that gave them that iconic stature. The same is true for Shammi's other favourite composer, OP Nayyar. Incidentally, when I interviewed him for our sister publication Darpan two years ago, Nayyar recalled bumping into Shankar at a dispensary where the latter told him that the only music director the duo was worried about was the solo composer!



Shammi Kapoor and Shankar-Jaikishan remained a team throughout the star's career as hero, producing timeless greats like Raat ke humsafar and Akele akele kahan ja rahe ho in An Evening in Paris, Tumne pukara aur hum chale aaye (Rajkumar), Laal chhadi maidan khadi (Janwaar), Saverewali gaadi se chale jayenge (Laat Saheb), Aaj kal tere mere pyar ke charchey and Dil ke jharokhe mein (Brahmachari), Ae gulbadan (Professor), Mere bhains ko danda kyon maara - a song which heralded the age of nonsensical lyrics - to name just a few. Unfortunately, Shammi, Rafi and SJ continued to make films long after all had passed their prime. So, Rafi and SJ both sounded tired in an unnecessarily lengthy song Matwali Hawa and even Badan pe sitare in Prince, in most numbers of Sachai and Pritam. In fact, it was Lata Mangeshkar who rendered the only breezy number for the eminently forgettable Pritam (Haye dil laga to aisa laga charcha gali gali) filmed on Leena Chandavarkar, badly mismatched, both by age and girth with the movie's male lead. Perhaps the last flicker of the association was Andaz, which had rather a melodious Rafi-Suman Kalyanpur waltz, Dil usey do jo jaan de de. But in the film it was reigning superstar Rajesh Khanna who, despite the brevity of his role, stole the show with Kishore Kumar's Zindagi ek safar hai suhana.





Interestingly, Shankar-Jaikishan did not really work with Kishore, at least never consistently, although whenever they teamed up, the results were quite memorable. In Kishore's first phase of fame, they gave two radically different hits Rangoli sajao re and Chhoti si yeh duniya (Rangoli) on the one hand and the racy Nakhrewali dil ki kaali (New Delhi). By the time Kishore returned with a bang after Aradhana in 1968, SJ were virtually on their way out. Barring Andaz, Aankhon Aankhon Mein, Jaane Anjane, and (if I remember right) Jangal Mein Mangal and Aaj Ki Taaza Khabar, there are few Kishore numbers that can find mention in the SJ repertoire. However, they used him for Raj Kapoor's son Randhir's launch vehicle, Kal Aaj Aur Kal in which Bhanwre ki gunjan hai mera dil was an outstanding composition although it was the commonplace number Hum jab honge saath saal ke that became a hit. For Shashi Kapoor, the youngest of the Raj clan, SJ rarely composed and even when they did it was Rafi whose voice was used, as in the Kanyadaan classic Likhey jo khat tujhe who teri yaad mein. For Merchant-Ivory's Bombay Talkies, SJ hired Kishore for its only hit number Typewriter tip-tip, but the film sank without trace anyway. But one Kishore-SJ number that remains forever etched in popularity charts is the 1971 classic Geet gaata hoon main from Lal Patthar.



Shankar-Jaikishan favoured Rafi to such an extent that they did not use Kishore even for Dev Anand except for a late 60s flop, Duniya (Dooriyan nazdeeqiyan ban gayee ajab ittefaq hai). But their early compositions for Dev saab, in Love Marriage for example (Dheere dheere chal chand gagan mein) as well as Jab Pyar Kisise Hota Hai (title song, Sau saal pahele and Teri zulfon se, to mention just three) went on to become big hits. Considering they did very few films for the leading hero of the time who belonged to a rival camp, it was not a bad record. Rafi was used to great effect though for Jubilee (Rajendra) Kumar in musicals like Arzoo and Jhuk Gaya Asmaan (Kaun hai jo sapnon mein aaya) and Aman (the sensuous Aaj ki raat yeh kaisi raat). Similarly the rare Joy Mukherjee film they gave music to, Love in Tokyo, had lilting Rafi numbers like Le gayee dil, Aaja re aa zara, Ae mere shahe-khooba.



SJ and Dharmendra never quite made a hit pair probably because Dharam was always garam, never naram enough those days for running around bushes. But in hit films like Shikar and Yakeen, and a succession of flops like Pyar Hi Pyar, Saazish, Resham Ki Dori and International Crook, SJ did try to revive both Dharmendra's and their own sagging career. But the music director duo would appear to have played Cupid by composing for the first hit of the successful combo of the He Man and Hema Malini, (Tum Haseen Main Jawan, 1971) using Kishore for Dharam (a rarity) in an utterly forgettable song, Munne ki amma.



In the mid-60s, Shankar-Jaikishan had a frightful row with the empress of the singing industry, Lata Mangeshkar. It was reportedly over her refusal to record the somewhat titillating Sangam number Main kya karoon Ram mujhe Buddha mil gaya, whose lyrics the characteristically prudish Lata thought crossed the boundaries of decency. She was further agitated when the proposed sequence, with a voluptuous Vyjayanthimala prancing on the bed trying to seduce an ageing Raj Kapoor, was explained to her. By then the duo was no longer composing songs together, they would divide the number of songs in a film between themselves and record them separately. The composer of the disputed song, Shankar, took serious exception to Lata's defiance and when she refused to yield, Raj Kapoor was dragged into the dispute. After hearing both sides, he decided Shankar was right, Lata had no business refusing to sing a number since she had a contract with RK Films and the lyrics, he thought, were not particularly prurient in any case. A fuming Lata recorded the song - to her credit with the appropriate mischief and seduction in her voice - but stormed out of the studio immediately, vowing never to sing for Shankar or Raj Kapoor ever again. She kept her word, occasionally singing only for Jaikishan, till she returned to the RK banner once LP were inducted with Bobby.



A belligerent Shankar decided he could do without her but unfortunately the replacement he promoted turned out to be an unmitigated disaster. The "besura" Sharda, whose only passable number was Titli udi, (Around The World, a haggard Raj Kapoor quickie), was panned by both critics and fans. Shankar selected the more competent "poor man's Lata" Suman Kalyanpur for some hit songs like Aaj kal tere mere pyar ke charchey, but by then his creativity too was in terminal decline. The Lata row marked a tragic end for a combination that made memorable melodies like O Basanti pawan pagal (Awara), Raja ki aayegi baraat and Yeh shaam ki tanhaiyaan (Aah), Ajeeb dastan hai yeh (Dil Apna Aur Preet Parai), Ja ja ja mere bachpan (Junglee), Unsey mili nazar toh mere hosh ud gaye (Jhuk Gaya Asmaan), Aawara ae mere dil (Raat aur Din) and Mujhe tum mil gaye humdum (Love In Tokyo, whose tune was later lifted by Nadeem-Shravan for Dhadkan's title song). SJ depended heavily on Lata as their dominant female voice, using Asha Bhonsle only sparingly for duets like Panchhi re o panchhi (Hare Kaanch Ki Chudiyan) or Waqt thoda sa abhi kuchchh aur guzar jaane de (new Seema). The Shikar number, Parde mein rahne do, went on to top the charts for months in 1968 because Asha intoned in a manner she usually kept in reserve for OP Nayyar. But one of their best compositions for Asha (a duet with Manna Dey) was Re man sur mein gaa (Lal Patthar).



Writing a complete musical biography of the two men who changed the history of Hindi film music with their sheer audacity and risk-taking ability, is impossible. But looking back, I wonder if we would have had a C Ramchandra, OP Nayyar, Kalyanji-Anandji (who started as their assistants) or even Laxmikant-Pyarelal (who began their career as KA's assistants in Chhaliya). Barring the self-assured Burman dada, there was no other music director who could dare as Shankar-Jaikishan could. They left a deep imprint on popular music in India and I regret that today's youngsters often think that Hindi music began only with RD Burman. Of course, he was a great composer, but let's not forget that one of Pancham's early films, Teesri Manzil, had music so heavily photocopied from SJ's style (perhaps because it starred Shammi Kapoor), that listening blind anybody could well think that O haseena zulfonwali, Aaja, aaja or Tumne mujhe dekha are Shankar-Jaikishan compositions. LP insisted throughout their career that their only ambition in life was to be bracketed with Shankar-Jaikishan as successful music-directors. If that's not high praise from contemporaries and competitors, what is?












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