the Kalyanji we forget...

Last week's Telegraph..
Yaad aaye kabhi to mat rona...
Kalyanji died five years ago, and it’s time to recall what the Kalyanji-Anandji duo meant to Hindi film music. By Anirudha Bhattacharjee and Srijit Mukherjee


If the 70s in Hindi film music was to be mapped, there is no iota of doubt about who the Holy Troika would be. The musical team of Laxmikant-Pyarelal would be Vishnu, hugely popular with an enviable appeal that would reach the commonest of Puja rooms. LP battled and duped the demons of Box-Office Failure with Vishnu-like cerebral use of power; choosing the right banner and rationing their talent.

Blissfully unaware of most worldly matters and lost in the marijuana of music would be R.D. Burman or Shiva: destroying all established notions of rhythm and arrangement in HFM and dancing his Tandav to the tune of true World Music within the paradigm of Bollywood.

But moving away from these charismatic gods and the bloodless wars between Shaivites and Vaishnavis, our cynosure is the third of the trinity. Like Brahma, who has only a sole temple after him, even at the peak of their powers in the 70s, the Kalyanji-Anandji duo always remained in the shadow of the two giants. KA’s contribution is scarcely the stuff drawing room uproar or tumultuous exchanges on e-forums are made of; it is hardly evaluated with the same intensity. But, almost quietly, they continued to rub shoulders with the big names for two decades or more, with fervour and tenacity.

Kalyanji Veerji Shah, the life and soul of the duo, was the son of a prospective grocer who took interest in musical instruments from a very early age. At an age when a child learning an instrument is wowed at, he developed a musical instrument called the Pattar Tarang! His innovative streak continued as, after being incorporated in SJ’s orchestra, with Hemant Kumar, he ushered in HFM’s first electronic sound through the German instrument claviolin. Remember the haunting snake-charmer’s been theme from Hemant Kumar’s immortal score in Nagin? Yes, that was Kalyanji himself creating magic. And with these musical escapades he finally caught the attention of Subhash Desai in 1958, and was offered his first independent assignment — Samrat Chandragupta. This was followed up by Post Box 999, which among other creations had the Hemant-Lata dulcet declaration of insomnia — , neend na mujh ko aaye. With his third film, Satta Bazaar, younger brother Anandji joined him and the rest, as they say, is history.

The early 60s were difficult, but KA scraped through given the support of producers and directors like Baburao Mistry, Subhash Desai, Ravindra Dave, Pramod Chakravarty and Suraj Prakash who couldn’t afford topnotch composers. But come 1965, and all that changed. Four of their five films, Himalay Ki God Mein, Jab Jab Phool Khile, Purnima and Saheli made it to the top of the charts. In JJPK, they moved away from Kalyanji’s earlier use of heavy orchestra in the SJ or Naushad mould, with startling results. In fact, the year’s success landed them with a couple of prestigious projects like Saraswatichandra and Upkar. While the former had among its National-Award winning score, the hugely popular love ditty in Raag Yaman, Chandan-sa badan; the latter had the ethereal Kasme vaade pyaar wafa sab which became the rage of the nation.

By this time, KA had developed their late 60s- early 70’s style, which was quintessentially an extension of the Bengal School of composing heralded by SD and Hemant Kumar. This mandated the use of limited Shudhdha notes, sporadically interspersed with Komal or Teevra notes, all stressed upon for a lasting impact. In the mellifluous Kishore-Asha duet Aankhon aankhon mein from Mahal (1969), the mukhda is an exposition of this skill, where only the first three notes of any form of music (Sa, Re and Ga) have been woven into the fabric with mind-boggling results. In fact, the same note progression often formed their signature tune and was recast intelligently in fractionally different moulds to create classics like Zindagi ka safar (Safar, 1970), Dil to hai dil (Muqaddar Ka Sikander, 1978) or Mera jeevan kora kagaaz (Kora Kagaz, 1974).

The period 1970-73 found KA at their commercial and creative zenith. The roll of honour included films like Safar, Blackmail, Johny Mera Naam, Purab Aur Paschim, Geet, Ghar Ghar Ki Kahani, Kathputli, Chhoti Bahu, Mere Humsafar, Samjhauta and Victoria No. 203. A very successful relationship was forged in 1973 when they proved to be the mascot for a lanky newcomer from Allahabad who redefined anger on celluloid. Numerous stage shows and hugely successful shows at that, were a direct and important byproduct of this association. However, as years went by, by the late 70s-early 80s, quality began to watch from the wings as the appeasement of the galleries took centerstage. And the trough crept up faster than the crest had arrived.

Viju Shah, one of Kalyanji’s five offspring, tried to give the last shot in the arm with Tridev (1989), but the success was fleeting. The man who brought electronic orchestra to Hindi Film Music, eventually lost out when technology became the heart and soul of the recording rooms. And when Anandji was quizzed on AIR FM, Kolkata, about his favourite Kalyanji creation, on August 22, 2000 little did he know that it would be prophetic. Hum chhod chale hain mehfil ko,/Yaad aaye kabhi to mat rona…

Within 48 hours, Kalyanji had passed into posterity.

Some Rare Gems of Kishore da..my Guru

This is an artcle which my friend Srijit and urs truly wrote recently in the Telegraph, Kolkata. Would be thankful if this generates interest in the unreleased works of the Master

Come August 4th, Kishore Kumar aficionados will indulge in discussing myriad aspects of the maverick who dabbled in most crafts of Hindi Films, but above all was the supreme playback. And songs which are likely to be invoked will be amongst the gems he has bequeathed for billions.

For eliciting melancholy, strains of ‘Chingari koi bhadke’ or ‘Kiska rasta dekhe’…the euphoria of frolic in ‘Main hoon jhumroo’ or ‘Ina mina dika’…the superlatively philosophical in ‘Zindagi ka safar’ or ‘Kuchh to log kahenge’. But search the hinges of the treasure chest, the inner lining of the box covered with the velvet timbre of his voice and one will find a glistening diamond here, a bloodshot ruby there; songs, which courtesy the music companies or the still born films to which they belong, never drifted in to plebian hearts and ears through records, tapes or CDs. The unreleased or not properly released gems of Kishore Kumar, on their own, can give a lot of his more popular numbers a run for their money.

Though handpicking unreleased beauties should have been relatively easy, reality throws up a different picture. And the three songs which come up after a lot of indecision probably vindicate our faith in the Underdog, the Unsung. The first of these also comes with an element of very pleasant, almost divine, surprise. For those who have savoured RD Burman-Asha Bhonsle’s Bengali Puja numbers, the popular ‘Phule gondho nei (1973)’might ring more than a musical bell; it might uncork the sparkle of the nostalgia of their respective decades. This, only till one chances upon the Hindi version of this song ‘Phulon ki zubaan khubsurat ho gayi’ from an untitled production of debatable lineage. The Bengali original is an Asha solo, but here Kishore Kumar joins to take it to hitherto unchartered heights of ecstasy. The song is better arranged, the lyrics are improved upon (the Achilles Heel of Bengali Puja Numbers from RD’s stable), the emoting is optimum- but if not for anything else the song stands out for the incredible entry which Kishore effects with his resonent baritone proclaiming ‘Aakaash koraa hai,aur chand kanwaaraa hai’. Though he goes on to play ideal foil to Asha’s delicious rendition, it surely has to be one of the greatest openings in a Hindi Film Song…unexpected, stunning, regal.

The second in the collection could contend to be the ultimate song in the minimalist tradition of composing. Very little accompaniment, a hint at slight percussions, more like muted heart beats of the song. And truly, ‘Akela hoon main is jaahaan mein..’lives; Kishore Kumar’s virgin voice from the late fifties takes care of that. Inspired by the theme of ‘River of no return’ and written and composed by himself for the unreleased “Neela Aasmaan”(1960), the song had been released around a decade ago in a double cassette by Amit Kumar without finding many takers then.
Kishore delivers this song so lucidly that the listener is left almost breathless. One can actually hear him pour out the solitude from the deepest recesses of his heart through the conduit of the refrain…O sticklers for the grandeur of simplicity, a must!

Finally, the third song - probably the brightest jewel of them all. Based on Raga Puriya Dhaneshree, Kishore composed this ghazal in D major scale, using chords in characteristic Kishoresque manner, defying the established norms of chord progression in the particular scale. And all this, in a matter of ten minutes while recording for the theme song of the film Pyar Ajnabi Hai (1980)- another shelved production starring himself and Leena. Much like isolated chapters of a rare manuscript, the song currently exists in two separate clippings of about 50 seconds each. But be warned - don’t hastily conclude anything about the impact of the song from its duration.50 seconds is a significant amount of time. Someone atop the WTC was planning an exotic weekend 50 seconds before the plane intervened. The baker at Pompeii was happily contemplating the shade of the loaf 50 seconds before Vesuvius burst open. In 50 seconds the hummingbird flaps its wings 3900 times and showcases the wonder of Nature. In 50 seconds, Sun’s rays cover 1/10th of their expedition to Earth in order to support photosynthesis or an even coat of tan.

For 50 seconds Junoon-e-ishq captures each and every spark of emotion created when the arrogance of persuasive love takes on the wall of stoicism.

As Potter mania grips the world, can’t help but listen in awe to this one true alumnus of Hogwarts School of Wizardry from Hindi Filmdom!!

A choice of 10 Kishore classics which did not have a proper release, in no particular order

1. Baaje baaje baaje re kahin bansuria – Suhana Geet – 1960 – composer – Kishore Kumar
2. Akela hun main is jahan mein – Neela Aasmaan (1958-1960) – composer – Kishore Kumar
3. Zindagi hai tarapna – Ramu to deewana hai (1960s) – composer -Chandra Hingorani
4. Junoon-e-ishq bhi kya sheh hai zamane mein – Pyar Ajnabi hai (1980) – composer – Kishore Kumar
5. Aaj mujhe jal jaane bhi do – Rehnuma (1970-73) – composer – Madan Mohan
6. Phoolon ki zuban – Untitled (recorded sometime between 1973-76) – composer – R D Burman
7. Zindagi ban jaati hai sargam – Laathi (1980s) – composer – R D Burman
8. Kaise dekhun meri aankhon ke- Bharosa (1980s) – composer – R D Burman
9. Lo shaam hui din doob gaya – Suhana Geet – 1960 – composer – Kishore Kumar
10. Zindagi hai hansna – Ek Ladki badnaam si (1980s) – composer – Bappi Lahiri