Is melody more important or rhythm? Is the beat more appealing or the quality of the lyrics? The obvious answer is that all three are important: melody, rhythm and lyrics. I ask this question in the context of Hindi film songs. Perhaps I am biased, or I am exposed less to the new, but I feel that our old Hindi songs had a far greater measure of melody; the lyrics were far superior; and the focus was less on the preponderance of beat, although, of course, the rhythm was not lacking.
Our songs from older Hindi films were, I think, rooted more in our own musical legacy. Many film songs of that era were inspired by classical ragas. I never learnt classical music although I wanted very much to. A music teacher would come to give classical music lessons to my three elder sisters. I too wanted to join and used to sit outside their class listening in, but my mother—herself highly proficient in classical music—was firm that this is not necessary for me: “Ek hi ladka hai, gawaiya ho jayega” (I have one son and he will become a crooner), she said. That was the attitude in those days, where such adornments like music and dance were meant for girls, whereas boys had to concentrate on their studies and on getting a good job.
So much of this has changed today, and the young now pursue what they want to, irrespective of gender, with the blessings of their parents, or even without it. But even though I never formally learnt classical music, I began to recognize ragas very early courtesy of All India Radio (AIR). In the 1970s, AIR used to air a programme every day in the morning dedicated to one raga and the Hindi film songs based on it. I used to listen to it every day. Over time, when I heard a song, I could relate it to the raga it is based upon which would surprise people.
I recall once I was having a cup of coffee with renowned sarod maestro Ustad Amjad Ali Khan. We were discussing the poetry of Mirza Ghalib and Amjad Bhai said that a particular ghazal, given its mood, should be sung differently. He then sang a few couplets in that tarannum (tune). I responded that yes, the sombre raga Darbari, was indeed suitable for this ghazal. He was taken aback that I immediately recognized the raga on which his composition was based.
But to return to film songs. There is no inherent contradiction between liking old film songs and appreciating the pep and beat of the new. I remember a party in 1991 hosted by a leading national weekly to celebrate its fifteenth anniversary. The venue, a five-star hotel in New Delhi, was packed with the elegant and the powerful. Classical music on the sitar was playing in the background, as the guests indulged in a round of drinks.
Then suddenly somebody changed the music. The lusty beat of Malkit Singh’s then-highly popular song Tutak Tutak Tutiya started playing, and nobody could resist it. The neglected dance floor was suddenly alive with middle-aged people who had grown up on old Hindi film songs, but now were flailing their legs and arms to this catchy beat!
What I do have a problem with is the plagiarism and mimicry involved in the new genre of Hindi film songs. There have been instances where the beat and the tune are direct copies of Western songs. It feels as if the beat is becoming increasingly repetitive, at the cost of melody and the quality of lyrics. Who can forget the quality of the lyrics written by Sahir Ludhianvi, Majrooh Sultanpuri, Neeraj, Shailendra, Shakeel Badayuni, Kaifi Azmi, and so many more?
And can one ever erase the immortal music created by people like Naushad, Roshan, SD Burman, RD Burman, Salil Chowdhury, Hemant Kumar, OP Nayyar, Jaidev, Shankar-Jaikishan, Kalyanji-Anandji and other stalwarts? There are talented music composers too today, but many of them are overshadowed by the proliferating number of mediocre composers. Thank God, as far as lyrics go, we still have giants like Gulzar and Javed Akhtar among us. Even for an ‘item’ song in the 2010 film Omkara, Gulzar wrote a song that had poetic merit: ‘Beedi jalaile jigar se piya, jigar ma badi aag hai’.
I have attended—and still do—some dinners where there is a live band led by a singer. Even now—and these get-togethers include many youngsters—the moment the singer goes back to an old song, like for instance ‘Ye raatein ye mausam nadi ka kinara, ye chanchal hawa’, from the 1958 film Dilli ka Thug, the entire audience begins to sing along. And, as far as the beat is concerned, few people can hold themselves back from dancing when the golden oldie plays: Gore gore, O baanke chore, kabhi meri gali aaya karo, from the 1950 film Samadhi, or the perennial favourite: Jaane kahan mera jigar gaya ji, abhi abhi yahin tha kidhar gaya ji, from the film Mr & Mrs 55.
I think I have made my own choice clear, although it is not my intention to say that everything new is bad. But, readers, I would be interested to know what you think.
Pavan K Varma is author, diplomat, and former Member of Parliament (Rajya Sabha).
Just Like That is a weekly column where Varma shares nuggets from the world of history, culture, literature, and personal reminiscences with HT Premium readers
The views expressed are personal
