FROM now on I am going to be choosy in the roles I accept because I can afford to do so,’ said Dilip Kumar in an interview in The Illustrated Weekly of India in December 1950. Coming from a man who had lost both his parents and had to support ten siblings, this statement would have signified substantial achievement. He had done sixteen films in six years since his debut in Jwar Bhata (1944).
But the following year (1951), Dilip Kumar was offered a film that would go on to be as significant in his personal life as it would be in his professional: Tarana, directed by Ram Daryani. It brought Madhubala and Dilip Kumar together for the first time. Their love story, which ended after eight long years, would be fodder for film magazines and books even decades later. And they would go on to script success stories like Sangdil(1952) and Amar (1954) and, of course, the epic Mughal-e-Azam(1960).
Tarana towed the line of a stock tear-jerker, a melodramatic love story. A doctor in distress is rescued by a ravishing damsel, Tarana, who has been waiting for twenty years for this opportunity. And the tale winds through love, heartbreaks, separation, panchayat diktats, etc. The film brought together three close friends: Talat, Anil Biswas and lyricist Prem Dhawan.
Sharad Dutt, biographer of Anil Biswas, mentions in his book Ritu Aaye Ritu Jaye that Tarana was a film by Ram Daryani, who had given Anil Biswas his first break at Eastern Art in Bombay. Daryani was going through an uncertain financial phase, and the film was his only hope. Anil Biswas put in a great effort, much more than what he would normally do for Variety productions, his own company. The result was some fascinating music, probably his best ever. And the film, a resonating success.
Shikha Biswas-Vohra, daughter of Anil Biswas, says: ‘He [Father] always said that if he was ever asked to list his favourite soundtracks it would be from the films Tarana and Aaram [both 1951]. He had a soft corner for the song “Woh din kahan gaye bataa” from Tarana. Surprisingly, “Seene me sulagte hain armaan”, which was the more popular one from Tarana, was not his personal favourite.’
She continues, ‘In the 1950s, there was this troika of Prem Dhawan, Roshan and my father. They met almost every day and discussed their compositions. Those days, the film and music industry was like one big family. Everybody helped each other. If one music director said he had created the mukhra but was stuck at the antara, another music director would assist him. Maybe C. Ramchandra was composing the antara for a song for which the mukhra would be made by Baba and vice versa.’
Shikha narrates how the tune for ‘Seene me sulagte…’ was composed in fifteen minutes flat. Prem Dhawan had asked Baba to accompany him to deliver an invitation to the singer Surinder Kaur who had arrived for some event organized by the Punjabi Academy. Baba agreed and, on the way to the venue, Prem chacha handed him the song’s lyrics. On reaching Worli, ‘Baba gave up the opportunity to meet Surinder Kaur, saying he would pursue a tune that was on his mind. He sat on the parapet humming, and by the time Prem chacha had delivered the card and come out of the bungalow, all the three antaras had been composed.’
The beauty of the composition lies in the way the three antaras are different in their tunes (similar to ‘Ye duniya ye mehfil’ from Heer Ranjha [1970] by Madan Mohan) and octaves (similar to ‘Chalo ek baar’ from Humraaz [1967] by Ravi).
Interestingly, in this very sad song, Biswas uses the major scale. The use of the Teevra Ma also gives it the essence of Raga Yaman Kalyan. Musicians with a theatre background might have had a tendency to use major scales more. While no definitive reason can be cited for this rather uncorroborated statement, the major scale did lend a masculine quality to the songs.
Shikha says, ‘Now you can marvel … all three are in different tunes and octaves – medium for Talat’s range and high for Lata. I wonder if anyone has noticed that the asthayee is close to one of Baba’s compositions from Gajre [1948], “Ghar yahan basaane aaye they”.’ The song does follow the notes, with minor deviations.
Also, there seems to be more than one reason for having different tunes and octaves in the antaras. The first antara, sung by Lata, is intense, as it depicts the character pining. The first few words in the antara are ‘Kuch aankh mein aansoo baki hai jo mere gham ke saathi hain’, and a low pitch would have failed to plumb the potential of the lyrics. The next antara has a reclusive note and, as expected, has Talat crooning for an ailing Dilip Kumar. The last antara is almost akin to a fiery statement – ‘Kuch aisi aag lagi mann mein, jeene bhi na de marne bhi na de’ and a high pitch is needed to give the fevered lyrics their intensity.
Prem Dhawan sums up the mood of the lead characters in the first four lines. Especially the lines ‘Yeh aaj teri duniya se humein/taqdeer kahan le aayi hai’, which mourn the figurative distance that has grown between the characters.
Shikha goes on to add, ‘There was a rumour that the lyrics had been bought from Sahir for Rs 5, as Sahir was in need of money, and that Prem Dhawan had helped him. But there is no way to find out. Personally, they seem like Prem Dhawan’s lyrics to me.’ Lyricists could be identified by their distinct styles in the golden era. How many of us can name a single modern lyricist?