A tribute on C Ramchandra’s birth anniversary January 12 (12 Jan 1918-5 Jan 1982)
In my simplified history of Hindi film music, when I move from RC Boral-Pankaj Mullick to Anil Biswas to Naushad, it would be quite unfair if I miss C Ramchandra. The Great Maratha (in the sense of one belonging to Maharashtra) was the most worthy rival of the Great Mughal, almost all the way, until Lata Mangeshkar deserted him, and his music floundered. He had no Plan B. But what a spectacle it was when it lasted! If Naushad had Mughal-e-Azam, CR had Anarkali. When Naushad swore by classical music, CR would create lilting classical based songs like Jaag dard-e-ishq jaag, Ye zindagi usi ki hai, Radha na bole na bole na bole re, Jab dil ko sataawe gham, without making a song or dance about it. When Naushad prided on his folk roots, CR would create Shehnai (Hamare angana aaj baaje baaje shehnai) and Nadiya Ke Paar (More raja ho le chal nadiya ke paar).
But he was not a copycat. If Naushad had his Lata Mangeshkar, there was a different CR-Lata Mangeshkar, which became a trademark in the early 50s, imitated by several composers. If Naushad prided on devoting a year to create good music, CR did the everlasting Aazad in a month. If Naushad lectured on tradition, CR revelled in being an iconoclast, and shocked purists by Ana meri jaan meri jaan Sunday ke Sunday that became a national craze. So much so that when a debate was raging whether the National Anthem should be Jan gana mana or Vande Mataram, a paper commented, jocularly, why not Ana meri jaan meri jaan Sunday ke Sunday? No one had heard anything like that. When his once mentor, Anil Biswas, asked him, in anger, what he meant by creating a song like that, he said, “I want it to be known as C Ramchandra’s music and not imitation of Anil Biswas.”
There was one genre – musical comedies – in which he was the undisputed master. I have described Rattan as Naushad’s music to which a film was attached. You can say that with equal force for C Ramchandra for movies like Shenaai, Patanga, Albela, Sagaai, Sargam etc. It is as if these rip-roaring comedies were made to fit rollicking songs and dance created by C Ramchandra. The Great Maratha was one up on The Great Mughal in another respect – he could sing, too. Who can forget the male voice in Aana meri jaan, Shola jo bhadke, Sham dhale khidki taley, Mere piya gaye Rangoon and so many other songs, which was integral to their stupendous success?
Among the films I have mentioned, I am very fond of Shehnaai’s music because of its vintage feel. But I choose Patanga (1949), because it comes in the watershed year of the change of era when Lala Mangeshkar hits the scene like a tornado, and sweeps away the yesteryear singers like Amirbai Karnataki, Shamshad Begum etc. Musically, Patanga best represents that transition, with Shamshad Begum all the way till two-thirds of the film (solo or with other singers), with full-throated songs of dance and fun, when Lata Mangeshkar comes in with three exquisite solos – sad, melodious and eternal, even though two of them are on the second lead, Purnima. And you notice a very interesting process – in Shehnai (1947), Lata Mangeshkar is an insignificant voice in one of the group songs; two years later, in Patanga, there is passing of the baton from Shamshad Begum to her; and further two years down, in Albela, she has completely taken over, singing not only Dheere sre aa ja ri ankhiyan mein and Balma bada nadaan re, but even Shola jo bhadke (with Chitalkar), a song which would have gone to Shamshad Begum earlier.
So let us take a joyride of C Ramchandra’s music to which a film called Patanga has been attached. All its ten songs are superhits and remembered till today.
As the village Chaudhary remonstrates with his God for giving him six daughters in a row, and fearing the worst about the seventh, due any time, a lanky young man comes in looking for him and gives him the good news that he has been blessed with a boy. (The lanky young man, whose role is so fleeting that you miss him if you blink, is unbelievably and unmistakably, Rajendra Kumar, who would emerge in later years as the Jubilee Star. This should be his very first appearance in films.) This calls for a big celebration, and what better than the dance of Cuckoo to the song of Shamshad Begum.
1. Gore gore mukhade pe gesu jo chha gaye by Shamshad Begum
The Panditji predicts a very bright future for the boy: he would be surrounded by motorcars on all sides and he would be always jovial. With such a great horoscope, he is named Raja. So you know what profession he is going to take up. You next see Raja (Yaqub) standing as a traffic cop in Bombay. While one part of the prediction has come true, how could a traffic cop, who has the most arduous and boring job in the world, be always jovial and happy? Ah, there he sees, across the street, an ebullient and charming Nigar Sultana, helping her father sell some concotions with her dancing and singing on the streets.
2. Duniya ko pyare phool aur sitaarey.. balam tujhe mera salaam by Shamshad Begum
You can’t blame Raja if he leaves his post from time to time to flirt with Rani (Nigar Sultana), leaving the traffic Bhagwan bharose. His boss is none too pleased with traffic pile-ups and crashes, and suspends him from the job, without pay, for a year. Now two kindred souls, Raja and Rani, are together in search of a sustained livelihood. They wangle their way into Gope Theatre Company, whose proprietor, producer, writer and director, Gope is quite infatuated with Miss Jalwa (Mohana). Raja’s hard sell of Rani by open denigration of Miss Jalwa’s abilities does not please them to Gope Seth. On their way out from the place, they peek into the green room, and after overpowering the actors who were getting ready, they barge on to the stage. Gope’s attempts to remove them from the stage are of no avail, because this song they start singing brings the house down, and Raja, Rani inevitably become the star performers in the theatre.
3. O dilwalo dil ka lagana achha hai par kabhi kabhi by Chitalkar and Shamshad Begum
The proprietor-producer-writer-director Gope is missing only one thing in his impressive resume – a stage actor. That opportunity comes when Raja is taken ill, and Gope and Rani/Nigar Sultana perform to this iconic song.
4. Mere piya gaye Rangoon by Chitalkar and Shamshad Begum
Everything was going fine – Raja and Rani; Gope and Miss Jalwa. Then some complications happen. As Gope is checking his troupe into a hotel at a place they are to perform, in the lobby Shyam (Shyam), a wayward and dilphenk son of a jagirdar, is ogling at Rani. Shyam has his friend and lackey (Randhir) to spur him on. In the evening show, they are in the audience, Shyam remembering the lovely slap Rani gave him in the lobby. Notice Shamshad Begum singing for the lead star, Nigar Sultana, and Lata Mangeshkar for Mohana – a very tentative entry for Lata Mangeshkar, who would soon become the centre of C Ramchandra’s music.
5. Pyar ke jahaan ki nirali sarkaar hai by Shamshad Begum and Lata Mangeshkar
Shyam-Rani affair takes a serious turn, with embers of love touching both. But the jagirdar had given his word to his late friend to marry his son to the latter’s daughter, Purnima (Purnima), who is now being brought up by the jagirdar himself. Shyam invites the Gope Theatre Company to perform at one of the family’s vacant havelis, pretending the invite to be from an old zamindar (Shyam in disguise) to celebrate the birthday of his son (his friend, Randhir). Gope and Miss Jalwa, Raja and Rani, are superb on the stage; in the box you can see Shyam, disguised as the old zamindar, and his friend, acting as his son.
6. Pahle to ho gayi namaste namaste by Rafi, Chitalkar, Shamshad Begum and Mohantara Talpade
Shyam and Rani affair has really become serious. A beautiful romantic duet between them.
7. Boloji dil loge to kya kya doge by Rafi and Shamshad Begum
The loyal maali of the jagirdar has overheard Shyam and his friend’s plans, and reports it back to the master. A furious jagirdar confronts his wayward son in the theatre and tells him in no uncertain terms that he would have to marry Purnima; he can’t think of a theatre dancer as his bahu. But Shyam is gone too far. A heart-broken Purnima gives expression to her emotions with this melodious solo by Lata Mangeshkar, one of the earliest CR-Lata songs, but one of the greatest and immortal.
8. Dil se bhula do tum humein hum na tumhein bhulayenge by Lata Mangeshkar
But jagirdar would have none of this nonsense. The wedding with Purnima is fixed, but on the D-Day, Shyam leaves home. Purnima in her wedding fineries sees him leaving, shattering her world.
9. O janewale tune armaanon ki duniya loot li by Lata Mangeshakar
In the Gope Theatre Company, Raja is sad by the betrayal of Rani. Gope tells him it is his fault, he had never expressed his love to her. How to do it? Gope asks him to recall all the dialogues of Siri-Farhaad and Laila-Majnu. Raja does as he is told, in fact he really puts his heart in it, gives an exaggerated delivery in a flowery language of all the theatrical dialogues of love-legends – one of the funniest scenes in the film. Rani is quite amused, and tells him, Tum jaise ho waise hi achche ho. She is now torn between her two lovers, and sings this sad song. Lata Mangeshkar has to wait till the end when she gets to playback for the lead star. Another CR-Lata all-time great gem.
10. Kabhi khamosh ho jana kabhi fariyaad kar lena magar us bewafa ko chupke chupke yaad kar lena
With ten songs already, it is well over two hours, but things are in quite a mess. However, the resolution is pretty quick. Raja tells Rani: For the sake of love I would give you over to Shyam tomorrow. Purnima comes under the car of Rani (Nigar Sultana), who gets her treated. She tells her she has stolen her love. Gope tells jagirdar that his son and Rani are getting married. But at the wedding, the lady under the veil turns out to be Purnima. Rani (Nigar Sultana) emerges from behind, blessing Purnima as an elder sister. Raja and Rani unite, so do Gope and Miss Jalwa, and they all sing O dlwaalo dil ka lagana achchaa hai par kabhi kabhi.
Notes:
1. You can watch Patanga on YouTube. Rajendra Kumar comes for 8 seconds at 1.47.
2. A nice review of the film is here. The comments on that post contain some very interesting trivia.
3. A mathematical reading of Patanga: SoY regulars, who remember their Bollywood Mathematics from my review of Sangam, would notice a unique feature of this movie. It has both B-type (Shyam-Yaqub-Nigar Sultana) and G-type (Purnima-Nigar Sultana-Shyam) triangles in it. With one side common, the two triangles are effectively a quadrilateral, and the triangles are solved by quad-isation, which is neither ‘perfect’ nor ‘imperfect’, but can be described as ‘stable equilibrium’. The way the film’s story unfolds, and given the mixed-up relationships of the characters, this was the only equilibrium possible. (The jagirdar’s objection – ‘how can a theatre dancer be the bahu of his khandaan’ – is a mathematical redundancy, because the word given to his friend is a sufficient justification for arriving at this equilibrium, which is the only possible solution in the given set of conditions.)