On a song!


Written by Shahinshah Husain • Cover Stories • August 2010

The subcontinent is a highly fragmented region in the world in the linguistic sense of the word, which explains why films are made in so many languages. But when you think of India, which accounts for about 80 to 90 per cent movies, you think of Urdu/Hindi films only. Proof, if proof be needed, is that the name Bollywood is now known worldwide. Even the most successful filmmakers (read directors) of the regional film centers toy with the idea of making what they call Hindi films and some of them, such as Sridhar and more recently Mani Ratnam, have made quite a few fine movies in a language, which is not theirs by any chance. Forget everybody, just remember the greatest of all Indian filmmakers, Satyajit Ray, who had declared repeatedly that he would make films only in his own language-Bengali, but when he read the English translation of Premchand's short story Shatranj ke khilari (1977), he couldn't resist the temptation of adapting it for a Hindi film (though the dialogue, written by Shama Zaidi were in Urdu). So, any discussion on the sub continental cinema is bound to be largely based on Urdu/Hindi movies.

On the eve of Partition, there were mainly three film centers, Bombay (it wasn't Mumbai then) which made Urdu/Hindi movies. Calcutta (now Kolkata), the home of the famous New Theatre made as many films in Urdu as in Bengali. And as for Lahore, Punjabi films were only exceptions rather than a rule. After Partition, Madras (now Chennai), Karachi and Dacca (which was how it was spelt) made Urdu films too. I prefer calling them Urdu films because in the dialogue (except in Hindu mythological films) were in a language which was essentially Urdu. This was much more pronounced in film songs, where barring Shailendra, all major lyricists - Hindus or Muslims - wrote in Urdu.

If we go back in history we will realize that in the early days of talkies, a large number of films were adaptations of Urdu plays. Since stage artists sang their songs, most of which were meant to be musical dialogue, this trend was adopted by movie makers of that period too. A popular play Inder Sabha, when adapted for the so-called silver screen, had more than sixty songs, some of which comprised merely two couplets. That was in the early thirties but by the mid-forties the number of songs had come down to about 12 and, in many cases, particularly under the music direction of stalwarts like Naushad and Shanker-Jaikeshan, every single song became a hit.

In Hollywood, only musicals, such as My Fair Lady and The Sound of Music were punctuated with songs. But Urdu films, with one or two exceptions, were invariably embellished with ditties. Now the question - did the songs interrupt the flow of the story? In many cases they did but in the hands of experienced directors, songs heightened the impact of the drama. Take, for example, the song ‘O mere lal aaja', a lovely Naushad composition, sung soulfully by Lata Mangeshkar and filmed on Nargis showed the sheer helplessness of a woman in that highly electrifying sequence in Mother India. The well known Pakistani film director Pervez Malik, who studied cinema at the University of Southern California, declared very early in his career. "I am all for songs because they are additional tools in the hands of a movie director."

When the angry young man became the central character of movies and romance took the back seat, the scope for film songs reduced considerably. Also, with the advent of parallel cinema where the name of the game was realism, film songs fell more or less into oblivion.

Film songs have staged a comeback somehow but they are very few in numbers. Most of them are played in the background.

Whatever one may say for or against the inclusion of film songs, one can't deny the fact that they are in themselves a genre of music, and a highly popular one at that. Even people not aware of the language enjoy listening to it. How else would have young Russians sung ‘Awara hoon' in the fifties?