Shridhar S(ha)ang just this version

It is only after I heard Baat Humari Pakki Hai, the only song from Just Married (2007) on this blog, that I realised that it seemed like the lyricist and the composer of the track were stuck in a marriage of convenience at that point.

While Version-I of the track, which Neeraj Shridhar and Shaan sang, wasn’t appalling, I found myself wondering whether Gulzar, who is an inspiration, and the inspiration-seeking Pritam were compatible.

Version-II was sung by Mahalaxmi Iyer, Shaan, Sukhwinder Singh and Sunidhi Chauhan.

Both versions were four minutes and 18 seconds long.

Tarey R(a)ose to the occasion

I’ve no qualms about admitting that the exclusion of this track from my blog on the music of Hindi films released between 2000 and 2009 was a surprise – to myself.

The song in question was Tose Naina Lage [a.k.a. Javeda Zindagi (which could be translated to, “An eternal life”)].

Eight minutes and 22 seconds long, it was rendered by Shilpa Rao and Kshitij Tarey.

I listened to the Mithoon composition, which Hasan Kamal penned, recently while watching Rao’s interview, and realised that I’d missed an outstanding track.

As the saying goes, better later than never.

They tugged at our heart‘Strings’

I omitted Strings’ mid-2000s track Yeh Hai Meri Kahani, because I assumed it was a single. Those were, after all, the heady days of Indipop, and it wasn’t uncommon for actors to jump onto the music video bandwagon.

A while later, I noticed that it was on the soundtrack of Zinda (2006), and the film version was credited to Vishal-Shekhar (to whom I’ve dedicated a separate blog, which, at the moment, contains about 142 from films released between 1999 and now).

The Pakistani band penned, composed and sang it.

Maybe the credits left me baffled.

It wasn’t a Kool trAcK

Hey folks, do you want to know the recipe for disaster?

Here we go – take an overrated composer who also happens to be among the most overrated singers, and a couple of underrated singers. And, of course, the most prolific lyricist of our times. And what do you get?

The answer to that is the title track of Kyaa Kool Hai Hum, which released in 2005.

For the record, the track, which Sameer Anjaan penned, wasn’t just composed, but also rendered by Anu Malik, who was joined behind the microphone by KK and Kunal Ganjawala.

Ms Ghoshal rendered (Arn)abeautiful version

My blog on the music of Hindi films released between 2000 and 2009 contains posts on a couple of tracks from Khakee, which released in 2004.

This blog contains a post on another track from the film – or, to be precise, a version of another track.

The song in question was Wada Raha. Both versions were four minutes and 41 minutes long, and rendered by the same female singer – Shreya Ghoshal.

While the male singer of the version on this blog was Arnab Chakrabarty, Udit Narayan sang Version 2. 

Sameer penned the Ram Sampath composition.

Lovers plAYed it baar baar

Since I prefer listening to the radio to watching television, I often miss some tracks and am aware of only the popular one(s) from a film.

That was indeed the case with Ishq Vishk (2003) – my blog on the music of Hindi films released between 2000 and 2009 contains posts on two tracks from the film, but I hadn’t heard the subject of this post.

The song in question is the Alka Yagnik solo, Aisa Kyon Hota Hai Baar Baar.

Sameer Anjaan penned the Anu Malik composition, which was four minutes and 54 seconds long.

(Ud)It was the lone solo

The second track from Devdas on this blog was the only solo in the film.

Titled Woh Chand Jaisi Ladki, it was five minutes and 40 seconds long.

(Ud)It was rendered by none other than Mr Narayan, who bagged the Star Screen Award for Best Male Playback Singer* in 2003.

The late Nusrat Badr was the man who likened the girl to the moon.

The track was composed by Ismail Darbar.

(*Note: It was the second time he won the award, after bagging it in 1997 for Aaye Ho Meri Zindagi Mein, from Raja Hindustani.)

 

(Dix)It was Birju Maharaj’s tracKK

Devdas (2002) was an embarrassment of musical riches, hence two tracks that I hadn’t heard regularly were excluded from my blog on the music of Hindi films released between 2000 and 2009 (despite that, it contained posts on half-a-dozen gems from the film).

I heard them recently. One of them was Kaahe Chhede, which was penned, composed and sung by Kathak exponent Pandit Birju Maharaj.

He was joined behind the microphone by Kavita Krishnamurthy and Madhuri Dixit, who essayed the role of Chandramukhi in the film.

The track was five minutes and 23 seconds long.

Digging it was not eAsY

This is a post on Badi Mushkil, the second track from Lajja.

Although I had heard it in the past, I excluded it from my blog on the music of Hindi films released between 2000 and 2009 because I didn’t want a run-of-the-mill track to merely make up the numbers (pun intended).

Later, I decided to include it in this composite blog, because I was compiling a list of at least one song per year, and this Anu Malik composition was 2001’s representative to it.

Sameer penned the song, which was rendered by Alka Yagnik.

(Jagj)It was rendered by Alka

My blog on the music of Hindi films released in the first decade of the 21^st century – i.e. between 2000 and 2009 – features one track from Tarkieb, which released in 2000.

The second song from the film – which was in contrast to that one – is the subject of this post.

It was titled Kiska Chehra, and was rendered by Jagjit Singh, the king of ghazals.

The lady who joined him behind the microphone was none other than Alka Yagnik.

It was penned by Nida Fazli, and composed by Aadesh Shrivastava, the underrated brother-in-law of Jatin-Lalit.

Alka, as usual, was outstanding

Gaane ke liye paanch minute (aur teen second) yun toh kum nahin the, aur is gaane ko playlist se exclude karnewaale hum nahin the. 

Of course, I heard it very late – over two decades after the film’s release, to be precise.

The song in question was Pyar Ke Liye [the only solo on the soundtrack of Dil Kya Kare (1999)].

Hence, I couldn’t include it in my blog on the music of Hindi films released in the 1990s, which contained two tracks from the film.

Alka Yagnik sang the Jatin-Lalit composition, which Anand Bakshi penned.

Amit’s version PacKed a pUNch

My blog on the music of Hindi films released in 1990s contained three tracks from Bade Miyan Chote Miyan (1998).

This blog contains a post on another track from the film – or, to be more precise, one of the two versions of a track.

The song in question was Deta Jai Jo Re (Version 1).

Kavita Krishnamurthy and Udit Narayan were common to both the versions.

While Version 1 featured the vocals of Anuradha Paudwal and Amit Kumar, Alka Yagnik and Sudesh (Bhos)lent their voices to Version 2.

Sameer Anjaan penned the Viju Shah composition.

Abhijeet couldn’t recreate the (Poorni)magic

From sharing singing credits with legends such as Mohammed Rafi and Kishore Kumar to joining the new crop of singers behind the microphone, Sushma (a.k.a. Poornima) has come a long way, proving that she was a singer par excellence, as suggested by the word that sounds like her surname (Shrestha).

And that was why San Sanana Sai Sai – the only song from Banarasi Babu (1997) on this blog – made the listeners sigh.

The man who rendered it with her was Abhijeet Bhattacharya.

It was penned by Sameer Anjaan, and composed by the Shrivastav brothers, Anand-Milind.

 

Alka sang thiS(an)underrated romantic number

My blogs contained posts on just one song each from the two films titled Fareb, until I heard the subject of this post.

Combining science and old English, it went, “Thou hath stepped down from my oculi and into my cardiac organ, and now thou art in the pulsations of the said organ.”

Folks, the track in question is the underrated romantic song from the 1996 film – Aankhon Se Dil Mein Utar Ke.

Penned by Neeraj, the Jatin-Lalit composition, which was five minutes and 55 seconds long, was rendered by Alka Yagnik and Kumar Sanu.

The track wAS far froM(a)Iikable

The subject of this post – Aanan Faanan – made me scratch my head for two reasons.

Firstly, because I didn’t know how to react to the tackiness unfolding on screen. Of course, Govinda could get away with anything at that point.

And secondly, because I didn’t, for the life of me, know what Aanan Faanan meant. On looking it up online, I realised it was the Urdu word for immediately.

The track, from Haathkadi (1995), was composed and sung by Anu Malik, who was joined behind the microphone by Abhijeet and Swarnalatha.

Maya Govind penned it.  

This title track was S(a)nubbed

A cursory glance at the filmography of Anil reveals that the titles of three of his films, released between 1987 and 1996, began with Mr.

Mr India (1987), of course, made him the darling of the nation (and kids, in particular), but we’re a free audience – his performance in Mr Azaad (1994) was (Ka)poorly received.

Its title song, Azaad Aaya Re, was rendered by Kumar Sanu. Indeevar penned the track, which Bappi Lahiri composed.

Needless to say, the third film in his Mr trilogy was the 1996 film Mr Bechara, whose songs I haven’t heard.  

It KUdn’t be a champion

Although Dekho Toh Jaane Jaana – the only song from Madhosh (1994) on this blog – had a line that went, “Champion”, the song could, at best, be called an also-ran.

However, I read the meanings of the names of the lyricist (Sameer) and the composers (Anand-Milind).

Sameer is wind, Anand is joy, and Milind apparently means a honey bee.

The winds of change were blowing, and the siblings, who had given the listeners a great deal of joy in the past, didn’t create any buzz on this occasion.

(Ud)It was rendered by Kavita Krishnamurthy and Narayan.

Rathod’s song was a lie

In the 1990s, Deepak was busy filling his Tijori with earnings from supporting roles [such as that of Akshay Kumar’s bestie in Khiladi (1992)].

But he aspired to land a lead role. And he did so in Pehla Nasha (1993), which derived its name from a song from his 1992 hit Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar.

The only track from the film on this blog was Mr Zero Ban Gaya Hero. But in reality, while he wasn’t the former, he could never be the latter.

Anand Bakshi penned the Neeraj-Uttank composition, which Vinod Rathod rendered.

Indeed, it waS(h)a S(an)uperb duet

Venus Worldwide Entertainment proved that they were the true Khiladis when it came to the soundtrack of Abbas-Mustan’s 1992 hit of the same name.

Of course, the songs, which Jatin-Lalit composed, become very popular – my blog on the music of Hindi films released in the 1990s contains posts on two tracks from the film.

The third song – titled Dekha Teri Mast Nigahon Mein – was five minutes and 48 seconds long. Mahendra Dehlvi* penned it.

Asha and Kumar Sanu (Bhos)lent it their voices.

(*Note: Of the other two, Anwar Sagar and Shyam Raj penned one each).

  

Sadhana sang this innocent (Sa)number

“Ek ladka aur ladki kabhi dost nahin ho sakte,” said Mohnish Bahl in Maine Pyar Kiya, the 1989 film that made Salman Khan a household name.

Cut to three years later, and a film titled, well, Ek Ladka Ek Ladki.

Prem (Khan) proved Jeevan (Bahl) right, in the opening line of the only song from the film on this blog – Kitna Pyar Tumhe Karte Hain.

In the innocence-oozing next line, lyricist Majrooh Sultanpuri said, “Aaj humein maloom hua” (which means, “I realised it today”).

Anand-Milind composed the track, which Sadhana Sargam and Kumar Sanu sang.

Bicycle thieves certAiNly loved it

Although music director Anu S Malik (yes, the son of Sardar) deserves a kick up his backside for repeated plagiarism, I am pretty sure the Italian director Vittorio De Sica wasn’t on his list of inspirations.

Yet, he, in tandem with his maamu (maternal uncle), the veteran lyricist Jaipuri, made bicycle thieves’ Hasrat come true in Bhabhi, which released in 1991.

The track was titled Sone Ki Cycle Chandi Ki Seat.

And its next line went, “Aao chalen darling, chalen double seat” (Partners in crime, anyone?)

It was rendered by Anuradha Paudwal and Nitin Mukesh.

ReAlisticallY speaking, (Am)it wasn’t possible

Who says dating is only for the well-off?

If you were a youngster in the 1990s, with a limited amount of money (obviously), and more importantly, an understanding girlfriend, you could say, “Chali Aana Tu Paan Ki Dukaan Pe”.

On being asked when this not-so-clandestine meeting would happen, you could say, “Half-past three pm”.

That’s what Alka Yagnik and Amit Kumar sang in Aaj Ka Arjun (1990).

Anjaan penned the Bappi Lahiri composition.

Of course, it was realistically impossible, because people have always spent a lot (of money, not necessarily time) on those they love.

YUp, this was the original

My blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1987 and 1989 contained posts on a couple of tracks from Tridev (1989).

While one was picturised on Naseeruddin Shah and Sonam, the other was picturised on Sunny Deol and Madhuri Dixit.

I apologise for ignoring the film’s third pair (Jackie Shroff and Sangeeta Bijlani) earlier. The track picturised on them was Gali Gali Mein Phirta Hai.

Alka Yagnik and Manhar Udhas sang the Kalyanji-Anandji composition, which Anand Bakshi penned.

It was recreated for the dubbed version of the Kannada film K.G.F: Chapter 1 (2018).  

It had loads of SASs

The transliterations of Hindi film songs into English have occasionally left me puzzled. That was my state of mind twice in 1989, when I read the inlay cards in audio tapes.

One confusing transliteration was that of Paap Ka Ant (I read Ant as the insect, so it sounded like the ant of sin) and the other was that of Gajar Ne Kiya Hai Ishara, from Tridev.

I knew plants were living things, but a carrot that gestured?

Jokes apart, Anand Bakshi penned the Kalyanji-Anandji composition, which Alka Yagnik, Sadhana Sargam and Sapna Mukherjee sang.

Shailendra Sure(sh)ly had a ball

My blog on the music of songs released between 1987 and 1989 contained a post on one track from Parinda (1989).

Sehre Mein Dulha Hoga, which I first heard eons ago, was the second song from the film, spread over both my blogs.

Half-a-dozen minutes and 32 seconds long, it was about a wedding (as the title suggests). Needless to say, Shailendra and Suresh Wadkar had a blast Sing(h)ing it.

Here’s a special holler at lyricist Khurshid Hallauri for spoofing songs like Shirdiwale Sai Baba and Khaike Paan Banaraswala in the R D Burman composition.

(Am)It wAs(h)a ‘number’ nobody ‘love’d

Thanks to the visionary producer Pahlaj Nihalani, Chunky Pandey is probably the only actor to star in his own biopic, even before his career actually took off.

It was titled Mitti Aur Sona, and it released in 1989.

In the 1990s, Pandey’s career bit the dust, and two decades later, he struck gold playing comic roles in such films as the Housefull series.

I’m a-joking – the only song from the film on this blog was One Two Three Pyar Karo.

Anjaan penned the Bappi Lahiri composition.

Asha Bhosle and Kishore Kumar Ganguly’s first-born rendered (Am)it.

Kavita sang this superb NuMber

With due respect to Mukesh’s son, I don’t think he was the right man to render Aage Sukh Toh Peechhe Dukh Hai [the only song from Eeshwar (1989) on this blog.]

The words sukh and dukh should have beeN(it)nterchanged, because he had no role to play in the aforesaid sukh, and he probably didn’t get enough opportunities to alleviate his professional dukh.

The lady who joined him behind the microphone was none other than Kavita Krishnamurthy.

Having said that, Anjaan penned a wonderful song.

It was composed by Laxmikant Shantaram Kudalkar and Pyarelal Ramprasad Sharma.

Ms Chinai rendered this (Lahi)rip-off

Archana Puran Singh may now be the human equivalent of the canned laughter track on a popular comedy show on television, but let us hark back to the time when the joke was on her.

And, of course, on the others involved in the rip-off of Hawa Hawa, Pakistani pop star Hasan Jahangir’s 1987 track.

The Indian version was titled Aaya Aaya, and it was the only song from Aag Ka Gola (1989) on this blog.

Anjaan penned the track, which was composed and rendered by Bappi Lahiri.

Ms Chinai (Ali)shared singing credits with him.

Kumar (Kisho)rendered this inspired track

Walk Like an Egyptian – a 1986 track by The Bangles – must have inspired Bappi Lahiri because he is fond of ornaments.

I wonder if the rock band had heard his adaptation [which was titled Chori Chori Yun Jab Hon, and was the only track from Paap Ki Duniya (1988) on this blog], and said, “Humne bhi choodiyan nahin pehnin”.

Anjaan penned the song, which Mr Kumar (Kisho)rendered.

The subsequent films in the Deols’ sequentially-titled Paap trilogy were the Dharmendra-starrer Paap Ko Jalaa Kar Raakh Kar Doonga (1988) and the Sunny Deol-starrer Paap Ka Ant (1989).

As U(dha)sual, Kishore was awesome!

Khaane ke baad peena toh banta hai na, public?

Although I did not intend it to be that way, Ek Ek Ho Jaaye followed Batata Wada on this blog.

The former was the most popular song on the soundtrack of Gangaa Jamunaa Saraswathi (1988).

Please note that the words Gangaa and Jamunaa in the film’s title end with two As. Was that because of the ek-ek that was guzzled?

Indeevar penned this run-of-the-mill number, which was composed by the one and only Anu Malik.

Pankaj Udhas, the prince of ghazals, (Kisho)rendered it with Mr Kumar.

They did an incr‘edible’ JoB

By the time Hifazat – a 1987 film – released, R D Burman’s career was on the wane, and that wasn’t just evidenced by the fact that the offers had considerably reduced, but the quality was suffering as well.

But by no means had the hunger of the man, who was among the most prolific composers in the 1970s, diminished – and that reflected in the only song from the aforementioned film on this blog.

It was titled Batata Wada, and was penned by Majrooh Sultanpuri.

S Janaki and S P Balasubrahmanyam lent their voices to the track.

Bappi (Chi)nailed this super(b) track

I hadn’t heard Super Dancer, from Dance Dance (1987), when I wrote a post on Zooby Zooby – the most popular song on the soundtrack of the film – for my blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1987 and 1989.

But I knew that Anjaan penned the Bappi composition.

What I didn’t know was that the La(hiri)tter (Ali)shared singing credits with Chinai.

And what knocked my socks off was the fact that it was picturised on Smita Patil.

Incidentally, it was among her posthumous releases – she died at the age of 31 in 1986.  

Lata (Kisho)rendered this underrated number

This blog contains a post on just one track from Samundar, which released in 1986.

It was titled Aye Saagar Ki Lehron.

By no means would it be incorrect to state that the man who composed it – the one and only R D Burman – was an ocean of talent. Incidentally, he had also composed the mind-blowing songs of Saagar, which released the previous year.

It is among Lata Mangeshkar’s most underrated songs to date. No prizes for guessing that she was joined behind the microphone by Kishore Kumar.

The track was penned by Anand Bakshi.

The thespian wielded the MiKe

Elderly leads are a rarity in the Hindi film industry, and songs picturised on them are rarer – barring Balraj Sahni serenading Achala Sachdev in Ae Meri Zohra Jabeen [in Waqt (1965)] and the Amitabh Bachchan numbers in Baghban (2003), I don’t recall many.

Thespian Dilip Kumar was credited as a crooner in Karma (1986). Remember Aye Sanam Tere Liye?

Incidentally, my blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986 contained a post on the patriotic version of this Laxmikant-Pyarelal composition, which Anand Bakshi penned.

Kavita Krishnamurthy and Mohammed Aziz rendered both.

Kapoor sang this jhakkas track

Two words describe Anil Kapoor. And incidentally, both begin with the letter E – enduring and endearing.

And that is because he has always been willing to reinvent himself and unafraid to dabble in new things – for instance, singing.

Well, he rendered Chameli Chameli, the title track of his 1986 comedy Chameli Ki Shaadi. 

My blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986 contains a post on a track from the film, but I hadn’t heard this Kalyanji-Anandji composition when I wrote that post.

Anjaan penned this song, which was undoubtedly jhakkas.

Undoubtedly, this duet was WonderfuL

I’ve already posted three tracks from Ram Teri Ganga Maili (1985) on my blog dedicated to the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986. I had written a post on another song from the film (Husn Pahadon Ka), but my failure to post it was an oversight.

This beautiful duet was rendered by none other than Lata Mangeshkar, who was joined behind the microphone by Suresh Wadkar.

It wasn’t just penned, but also composed by Ravindra Jain.

The soundtrack of the film earned him the Filmfare Award for Best Music Director in 1986.

Kishore Kumar absolutely (Jana)killed it!

The folks at St Sebastian’s Goan High School in Girgaum, a locality in South Mumbai, must have beamed with joy to watch two of its notable alumni – Ravi Kapoor and Jatin Khanna – set the box office alight.

For the uninitiated, Kapoor adopted the screen name Jeetendra, and Khanna was superstar Rajesh Khanna (a.k.a. Kaka).

And it was the latter on whom Garmi Hai Kahan Hai – the only song from Maqsad on my blog – was picturised.

Bappi Lahiri composed the music of the 1984 film.

Indeevar penned the track, which S Janaki and Mr Kumar (Kisho)rendered.

They stepped on the AKcelerator

In the 1980s, the career of Jeetendra – who earned the epithet of Jumping Jack for putting on his (white) shoes and dancing vigorously – literally went south, when he was paired with actresses hailing from that region (like Sridevi) in Hindi remakes of Telugu films.

One of those was Justice Chaudhary (1983).

This blog contains a post on one track from the film – Mamma Mia Pom Pom.

No prizes for guessing that the track, which was penned by Indeevar and composed by Bappi Lahiri, was (Kisho)rendered by the one and only Asha Bhosle and Mr Kumar.

Undoubtedly, Shabbir Kumar was burdened

My blog on the music of Hindi films contains a post on one song from Coolie, which released in 1983.

I recently heard another track from the film, which I vaguely recall listening to when I was in school.

It was titled Saari Duniya Ka Bojh, and was five minutes and 55 seconds long.

The oR(af)iginal is the original, and the clone is, well, Shabbir Kumar, who rendered it.

Although he had a huge pair of boots to fill, he did a pretty good job.

Anand Bakshi penned the song, which was composed by Laxmikant-Pyarelal.

Asha (Kisho)rendered this beautiful number

When he wasn’t contesting the Assembly elections, it wouldn’t be incorrect to state that Vitthalbhai Patel was winning the votes of lovers in parts of India where Hindi is spoken with the lyrics of many a romantic number, including Tum Badi Khoobsurat Ho, from Daulat, which released in 1982.

It was picturised on Vinod Khanna, who, at that point, chucked up a successful career in films. The celluloid no-show was due to his stint at the ashram of Osho.

The song was composed by R D Burman.

Asha and Kishore Kumar (Bhos)lent it their voices.

Undoubtedly, Mr Kumar was unparalleled

I’ve already written posts on three tracks from Bemisal (1982) in my blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986.

I heard the fourth – Kisi Baat Pe Main Kisi Se Khafa Hoon – recently.

Anand Bakshi penned the R D Burman composition, which Mr Kumar (Kisho)rendered.

Bemisal is, thus, the third Hrishikesh Mukherjee film [after the Raj Kapoor-starrer Anari (1959) and the Amitabh Bachchan-starrer Abhimaan (1971)] whose entire soundtrack features in my blogs.

Kapoor affectionately called Mukherjee Babumoshai, the Bengali honorific Rajesh Khanna’s character in Anand (1971) used to address Bachchan’s character.

The titLe tracK was wonderful

My blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986 contains posts of three tracks from Harjaee (1981).

Interestingly, each of them was penned by a different lyricist. One was penned by Nida Fazli, another by Gulshan Bawra and the third by Vitthalbhai Patel.

I recently heard another superb track from the film – Yeh Rut Hai Haseen, which could be called the title track of the film. It was penned by Patel.

The track, which was composed by none other than R D Burman, was (Kisho)rendered by Lata Mangeshkar and Mr Kumar.

Needless to say, these voices(ib)lingered

My blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986 contains a post on a track from Alibaba Aur 40 Chor, an Indo-Soviet co-production based on the Arabian Nights tale, which released in 1980.

This is a post on another track from the film – Saare Shehar Mein.

By no means would it be incorrect to state that R D Burman – who composed the track, which was penned by Anand Bakshi – probably opined that, “Lata Mangeshkar aur Asha Bhosle jaisi koi nahin hain, aur is gaane ke liye woh dono hi sahi hai”.

It was a timeless trAcK

Although I certainly didn’t intend it to be that way, the last six posts have been about songs from films starring at last one member of the Kapoor clan.

And this one is no different – Jhoota Kahin Ka (1979), starred Rishi Kapoor and Neetu Singh.

In my blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986, I have already written posts on a couple of tracks from this film.

The third – Barah Baje Ki Suiyon Jaise – was (Kisho)rendered by Asha Bhosle and Mr Kumar.

Gulshan Bawra penned the R D Burman composition.

This Lata-Kishore duet was short

I’ve already written about three songs from Trishul (1978) in my blog dedicated to the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986.

The fourth, which is the subject of this post, was I have, albeit belatedly, heard on the radio a number of times.

The track was Jo Ho Yaar Apna. Spread over both my blogs, it was the shortest song from the film – it was three minutes and 29 seconds long.

But the Khayyam composition certainly didn’t come up short, because Lata Mangeshkar and Mr Kumar (Kisho)rendered it.

Sahir Ludhianvi penned it.

It was tailor-made for Kishore

Vyjayanthimala – one of the foremost female superstars of the Indian film industry – starred in a 1953 film titled Ladki.

Saira Banu, who tied the knot with Dilip Kumar, was a popular actress of the 1960s. She played the leading lady in Padosan (1968).

And for those who haven’t figured out where this is going, the two aforementioned films had one thing in common – they starred Kishore Kumar.

He rendered O Padosan Ki Ladki, the only song from Heeralaal Pannalaal (1978) on this blog.

Majrooh Sultanpuri penned the track, which was composed by R D Burman.

Indeed, the reality was StArK

At the outset, I must admit to being unable to initially identify the female singer of Yeh Duniya Ke Badaltey Rishtey, the title track of Badaltey Rishtey, which released in 1978.

I mistook her for Lata Mangeshkar, only to discover that it was actually rendered by Suman Kalyanpur.

She joined a pair of legends – Kishore Kumar and Mohammed Rafi – behind the microphone.

The Laxmikant-Pyarelal composition was penned by Anjaan, and by no means would it be incorrect to state that it reflected a reality that was as stark at that point as it is now.  

Kumar (Kisho)rendered this popuLa(ta)r song

Doosara Aadmi released on October 14, 1977. So had I been born five years earlier, I would’ve been a day old the film hit the screens.

Jokes apart, it starred Shashi, his nephew Rishi and the latter’s would-be missus, Neetu. That certainly wasn’t (K)apoor musical legacy, so awesome songs were a given.

While I’ve already mentioned two of them in my blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986, I had not heard Nazron Se Keh Do earlier.

Lata Mangeshkar and Kumar (Kisho)rendered the Rajesh Roshan composition, which Majrooh Sultanpuri penned.

  

Asha could never be Gumsum

Bhala Maanus, which released in 1976, was a Randhir Kapoor-starrer, as was Ponga Pandit, which released in 1975.

Interestingly, while his co-star in Ponga Pandit was Neeta Mehta, the lady paired with him in this film was none other than Neetu Singh, his sister-in-law-to-be.

This blog contains a post on one track from the film. It was titled Gumsum Hai Kyon Sanam.

Only the (Bhos)legendary Asha could have rendered it. By the way, neither she nor R D Burman, who composed the track, could be described as gumsum (still).

It was penned by Gulshan Bawra.

This wasn’t a RocK(K)(y)ing number

At the beginning of Woh Mere Peechhe Padi Hui Hai [the only song from Ponga Pandit (1975) on this blog], Rocky – the character essayed by Danny Denzongpa – introduces himself as, “The man born with the golden spoon”.

Buddy, we gather that you’re a wealthy man, so we can’t help wondering why you used the dough to polish your singing skills instead of acquiring an education (else you’d have known that the proverb is, “born with a silver spoon”).

Jokes apart, Rajinder Krishan penned this run-of-the-mill Laxmikant-Pyarelal composition, which the one and only Mr Kumar (Kisho)rendered.

Indeed, this mantra was (Kisho)remarkable

Given my long-standing love for finding humour even in tracks that were far from funny, I’ve often read songs containing the word Jeevan (which means life) in the voice of character actor Jeevan, who has essayed Narad Muni in many a mythological, and later, the baddie.

Unfortunately, the subject of this post – Jeevan Mein Tu Darna Nahin – made no sense in that context.

It wasn’t merely a song from Khote Sikkay (1974), but a mantra too.

The track, which was (Kisho)rendered by Mr Kumar, was penned by Majrooh Sultanpuri and composed by R D Burman.  

Bada maza aaya, Lata Didi!

In Jugnu (1973), Hema Malini wondered aloud, “Jaane kya pilaya tune”.

A wag, on listening to that line, remarked, “Bagpiper, Kent RO-purified paani ke saath”.

Well, those who know that Dharmendra was her co-star in the film, and he endorsed the former (a brand of whisky), and of course, the fact that she endorses the latter (a leading water purifier brand) know that is just a joke.

But the track, which was composed by S D Burman, was quite popular.

It was penned by Anand Bakshi, and sung by the one and only Lata Mangeshkar.

Kishore’s fans’ love was deep

I knew that Sharbati was a variety of rice.

And recently, I heard a song in which Rajinder Krishan used the word to describe Rakhee’s eyes.

On reading about it, I found that the track in question – Main Doob Doob Jaata Hoon – was from Black Mail (1973).

It was composed by Kalyanji-Anandji, the sons of a grocer. Hence, the grain analogy in the opening line of this post makes sense.

The song was (Kisho)rendered by Mr Kumar, whose fans probably wanted to paraphrase the song to, “Hum bhi aapke gaane sunke doob doob jaate hain”.

It reflected Rafi’s own attitude

When translated, Lalkar means challenge. And our armed forces are trained to face many of those on a daily basis.

However, the soundtracks of many Hindi films have songs that portray our men in uniform as a happy lot.

And that of the aforementioned film, which released in 1972, was no different.

Its soundtrack featured a Kalyanji-Anandji composition titled Aaj Gaalo Muskuralo, which means, “Sing and smile today”. 

Aptly, it was rendered by Mohammed Rafi, who, in addition to being a singer par excellence, always had a smile on his face.

Indeevar penned the song.

Kumar’s (Kisho)rendition soothed Jang(a)led nerves

While I had heard of Jangal Mein Mangal, I didn’t know anything about it.

So I read about the film which released in 1972, and vaguely recalled having heard one of its tracks on the radio once.

The song in question was Tum Kitni Khoobsurat Ho.

Of course, he was singing praises of the heroine’s beauty, but it could just as well have been paraphrased to, “Yeh gaana kitna khoobsurat hai” (which means, “What a beautiful song this is”.)

Mr Kumar (Kisho)rendered the track, which was penned by Hasrat Jaipuri and composed by Shankar Jaikishan.

Kishore (Bhos)lent it his voice

Apradh – which released in 1972 – marked Feroz Khan’s debut as a producer and director.

While my blog in the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986 contains a post on one track from the film.

I had heard another song from the film – Tum Mile Pyar Se – on the radio a few times, but didn’t know anything about it.

So I read about it, and found that it was penned by Indeevar and composed by Kalyanji-Anandji (who collaborated with Khan on his first four productions).

Asha Bhosle and Mr Kumar (Kisho)rendered the song.

Mukesh was synonymous with dard

Rajesh Khanna got Rajendra Kumar’s Ashirwaad in the form of his Carter Road abode. And enjoyed a period of short-lived superstardom.

It was during this phase that he starred in Maryada (1971).

While my blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986 contained a post on an upbeat track from the film, this one – which I heard recently – was titled Zubaan Pe Dard Bhari Dastaan.

And, at that point, the crooner who usually came to mind when a song was pathos-laden was Mukesh.

Anand Bakshi penned the track, which Kalyanji-Anandji composed.

Rafi’s rendition was (tee)totall(er)y awesome

Comedian Johnny Walker (who was named after a popular brand of Scotch whisky) didn’t drink. Ironically, a few songs picturised on him portrayed him as an alcoholic.

They were rendered by Mohammed Rafi, who was a teetotaller as well.

However, he sang Maine Pee Sharaab, from Naya Raasta (1970).

Sahir Ludhianvi penned the N Dutta composition.

And now, what does the song have to do with Walker? Well, it was picturised on Balraj Sahni, who spotted the funnyman entertaining passengers in a BEST bus, in which he worked as a conductor before his celluloid debut.



  

Simi was AMong those credited

Mera Naam Joker released in 1970.

At that point, kids’ songs in Hindi films, which were once cute and meaningful, were slowly but steadily beginning to ‘Teetar’ on the edge of mediocrity, before eventually becoming cringe-worthy.

The aforementioned film’s soundtrack featured a pleasant song about pheasants – Teetar Ke Aage Do Teetar, which was replete with tongue-twisters.

Three minutes and 47 seconds long, it was rendered by Asha Bhosle and Mukesh. Actress Garewal had a rendezvous with the (Si)microphone as well.

The track, which Gopaldas ‘Neeraj’ penned, was composed by Shankarsingh Raghuvanshi and Jaikishan Dayabhai Panchal.  

Kapoor’s bhajan was forever relevant

Gopi released in 1970.

My blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986 contains a post on a Mohammed Rafi solo from the film.

This is a post on another track from the film. It was a bhajan titled Ramchandra Keh Gaye Siya Se. Mahendra Kapoor – who was inspired by the aforementioned legend – rendered it.

I, incidentally, first heard this song in the Antakshari sequence in Maine Pyar Kiya (1989).

When I read about it many years later, I found out that Rajinder Krishan penned this forever-relevant song, which Kalyanji-Anandji composed.   

Nobody kept caLM about it

My blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1969 and 1986 features a post on one track from Intaqam, which released in 1969.

This blog contains a post on another popular song from the film.

It was titled Kaise Rahoon Chup, and was rendered by the one and only Lata Mangeshkar, who was nominated in the Best Female Playback Singer category the following year. In fact, it was the only nomination earned by the film.

The track, which was penned by Rajinder Krishan, was composed by Laxmikant Shantaram Kudalkar and Pyarelal Ramprasad Sharma.

It moved Rafi to tears

While I have already written about Aaja Tujhko Pukare Mera Pyar – the Mohammed Rafi solo from Neel Kamal (1968) – in my blog about the music of Hindi released between 1960 and 1968, this is a post on the track during whose recording he wept.

The track in question was Babul Ki Duayein Leti Ja, and was sung by a father when his daughter leaves her parents’ home after her wedding.

It earned him a nomination in the Best Male Playback Singer category at the 1969 Filmfare Awards.

Sahir Ludhianvi penned the song, which Ravi composed.

Manna Dey’s finesse was evident

By 1966, Rajendra Kumar’s Jubilee Kumar phase had come to an end, but by no means would it be incorrect to state that he was still a lucky actor from a musical standpoint.

And that certainly seemed to have rubbed off on Naushad Ali too – his involvement in Palki (1967) wasn’t restricted to composing its songs, but he wrote the film’s story as well.

The male version of the film’s title track – Mere Ghar Se Pyar Ki – was a sad song, which was penned by Shakeel Badayuni.

The one and only Manna Dey rendered it.

  

Undoubtedly, Rafi was unstoppable then

Call it the papa of all ironies if you will, but I did chance upon Savere Wali Gaadi (the song from the Shammi Kapoor-starrer Laat Saheb, which released in 1967) while watching a YouTube clip whose ‘Up next’ video was Saveray Wali Gaadi, the 1986 film starring Sunny Deol.

While Kapoor’s moves were the stuff of legend, Deol had two left feet.

Needless to say, it was rendered by Mohammed Rafi, whose ride down melody lane came to a grinding halt after the emergence of Kishore Kumar.

Shailendra penned the song, which Shankar Jaikshan composed.

Ma(ngeshka)rvellous was definitely an understatement

Kon’nichiwa, folks!

That’s Japanese for Hello, and obviously, this is a post on a track from Love In Tokyo (1966).

My blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1960 and 1968 contains posts on three tracks from the film.

While two of them were Mohammed Rafi solos, the third was rendered by Ms Mangeshkar.

And by no means would it be incorrect to state that Koi Matwala Aaya Mere Dware would give lend baLa(ta)nce to the songs from the film in my collection.

Penned by Hasrat Jaipuri, it was composed by Shankar Jaikishan.  

This track gave Sharada’s careeRafillip

My blog on the music of Hindi films released between 1960 and 1968 contains posts on a couple of songs from Gumnaam, which released in 1965.

This blog contains a post on another track from the film, which I heard recently.

Titled Jaan-E-Chaman Shola Badan, it was rendered by the legendary Mohammed Rafi and Sharda Rajan Iyengar (mononymously known as Sharda)*.

The song, which Hasrat Jaipuri penned, was composed by Shankar Jaikishan.

(*Note: Although Gumnaam released earlier, she will forever be remembered as the lady who sang Titli Udi, from Suraj, which released in 1966.)

Rafi’s rendition moved his fans

Ek Sapera Ek Lutera released in 1965.

This blog contains a post on one track from the film. It was Asad song, titled Hum Tumse Juda Hoke.

It was penned by Mr Bhopali, composed by Usha Khanna, and rendered by none other than Mohammed Rafi. Needless to say, the trio did a splendid job as usual.

It is purely coincidental that this blog contains posts on three tracks from Feroz Khan-starrers (and this is the first of those). April 27, 2020 happens to be the 11^th death anniversary of the stylish producer, director and actor. 

Aptly, Mukesh rendered this track

Ji Chahta Hai was a film that released in 1964.

When translated, its title means, “The heart wants”.

And when one’s heart wants to listen to a sad song, Mukesh is, more often than not, the singer one would turn to.

Keeping its picturisation in mind, the appropriate description of Hum Chhod Chale Hain Mehfil Ko would be, “Joy’s expression of sorrow” (which is actually hard to picture, because Mr Mukherjee is best remembered for his frothy tracks).

Jokes apart, the track, which was penned by Hasrat Jaipuri, was composed by the Shah brothers, Kalyanji-Anandji. 

Rafi was truly the Ustad

The only song from Ustadon Ke Ustad (1963) on this blog was Sau Baar Janam Lenge.

But by no means would it be incorrect to state that die-hard Mohammed Rafi fans could claim that he is, was and always will be the Ustad (master) of playback singing and paraphrase the opening line of the song to, “Sau baar yeh gaana sunenge” (which could be translated to, “We will listen to this song a hundred times”).

The track, which was penned by Asad Bhopali, was composed by Ravi Shankar Sharma (who was mononymously known as Ravi).