ASIT Sen’s strategy of remaking his Bengali films in Hindi had worked well for him – so long as the story writer was Ashutosh Mukhopadhyay and the hero, Rajesh Khanna. Safar (1970), which followed Khamoshi, was a remake of the 1956 Bengali hit, Chalachal, starring Arundhati Devi. One of Rajesh Khanna’s super hits, all its songs received critical as well as popular acclaim.
In an interview with All India Radio’s RJ, Siddhartha Dasgupta, Anandji credited Sachin Dev Burman for the simplicity in their approach to tune and instrumentation. Kalyanji–Anandji were quite different in style from SD, but the use of single instruments for melodic phrases, like the flute in ‘Kisi rah pe kisi mod par’ (Mere Humsafar, 1969), the recurring string motif in ‘Koi jab tumhara hriday tod de’ (Purab Aur Paschim, 1970) or the guitar prelude in ‘Mera jeevan kora kaagaz’ (Kora Kaagaz, 1974), were typically learnings from the SD school of music. Anandji Shah says, ‘When we were composing “Naina mere rang bhare” (Blackmail), we told Burman dada that the style of composition was inspired by him.’
Kalyanji–Anandji also mastered the use of simple phrases which they would regularly use, yet were diverse in application. One such phrase was woven in by using only Sa Re Ga. A case of experimentation by using only these three notes was the mukhra of the song ‘Aankhon aankhon mein hum tum ho gaye deewane’ (Mahal, 1969). The song was used to convey the realization that two people had fallen in love, while the night made way for a new day. They further used this phrase, partly, in the lullaby ‘O natkhat nanhi laadli tujhe dekhe, tera mama, chanda mama’ (Nanha Farishta, 1969), in the teasing ‘Aaiye aapka tha hamein intezaar’ (Mahal, 1969), in ‘Dil to hai dil’ (Muqaddar ka Sikandar, 1978) and in what is possibly their most popular song: ‘Zindagi ka safar, hai yeh kaisa safar’ (Safar, 1970). ‘Zindagi ka safar’ uses Sa to Dha and a komal Ni.
The song tells the story in an almost prosaic manner. Kishore Kumar is not overtly demonstrative and the song with short phrases, leaves the listener yearning for more. Even the prelude on the piano, and the first on-strings interlude, are kept deliberately short, as if to match the sudden shock. The second interlude is a repeat of the prelude.
Anandji Shah says, ‘While narrating the story of Safar, Asit Sen said, “Nobody knows what destiny is. I am from Bengal, you are from Gujarat and here we are, sitting together and composing a Hindi film song. It’s a funny thing, this coincidence.” We agreed that the song had to be like a question: “Zindagi ka safar, hai yeh kaisa safar?” Because a question always stimulates you, makes you think. And this question is there in a number of our songs. For example, “Mere toote hue dil se … tera haal kya hai?” (Chhalia, 1959). If it had been something like “Main toota hua hoon”, there is nothing left to say after that. “Ek tu na mila … to kya hai” (Himalay Ke God Mein, 1965). “Dil to hai dil … kya kije” (Muqaddar Ka Sikandar, 1978). Even in songs which were action oriented as in “Aap ka sarkar kya kuch kho gaya hai?” (Hera Pheri, 1976).’
The reclusive nature of the melody fits the story the lyrics are supposed to tell. The song begins on the lower octave, almost in a withdrawn manner, with the tune of the first two lines oscillating between the notes Pa, Sa, Re and ending on Komal Ni. There is a reason it begins at a lower octave. Anandji says, ‘Director Asit Sen was a Bengali. So the song had to start on a lower note much like the songs of Bengal, to his liking. If it had to have a Punjabi flavour it would have started on a higher note.’
With Ga as its highest note, the first four lines of the mukhra is calm and evokes a feeling of submission. The next two lines of the mukhra see a change of the chord to the harmonic minor where Ga is the tonic, thus creating a contrast within the mukhra itself. There is a certain frailty in Kishore Kumar’s powerful voice, that of a person accepting life on its terms. The antara is mainly on the madhya saptak with some notes on the taar saptak. But, here too, the notes have been kept at a bare minimum, creating hardly any room for digression, as if to allow the listener to empathize with the anguish of the protagonist.
With reference to the clarity of sound, which would go on to become one of the hallmarks of the composing duo, rhythm assistant Babla says, ‘We would avoid “jhamela”. We would employ instruments only as per our requirement and not stuff it with excessive instrumentation. That would have meant loss of clarity in sound.’
Lyricist Indivar was given an ultimatum by the composers: ‘Deliver this song fast, else we take Anand Bakshi.’ Indivar wrote the lyrics within an hour and the spontaneity makes for the song’s strong charm.
Safar’s other numbers could very well claim to be musically superior to the title song. ‘Hum they jinke sahare’ (Lata Mangeshkar) with Nandita thakur singing it in a radio station under I.S. Johar’s baton, reminiscent of ‘Humne dekhi hain unn aankhon ki mehekti khushboo’ from Sen’s previous film with Rajesh Khanna, Khamoshi, is a major chord-based composition with all the six normal notes and a Komal Ni. It is almost akin to a wave, as is the boat song, ‘Nadiya chale re dhara’ (Manna Dey). ‘Jo tumko ho pasand’ is the only minor scale-based song, where the rhythm brings out the whimsy of road songs.
However, the closest contender to ‘Zindagi ka safar’ would be ‘Jeevan se bhari teri aankhe’, which, supposedly, is based on Raga Malgunji. Also, there are no signs of the raga being directly used. The song possesses its own character, removed from the ambience Raga Malgunji purports to create. It is a ray of hope, of belonging, of something bright in an intrinsically sad film. Hence the overall fatalistic feel of ‘Zindagi ka safar’, with Indivar’s philosophy laced in symmetrical weaves of melody, impeccably delivered by Kishore Kumar, steers Safar.
The film, coming in the wake of the Rajesh Khanna wave, worked its magic at the box office. At the turn of the decade, Khanna’s back-to-back movies, Aradhana and Do Raaste, took off like rockets and proclaimed the emergence of India’s first superstar. Kalyanji–Anandji, in their third assignment with the superstar after Raaz (1967) and Narendra Bedi’s debut vehicle Bandhan (1969), created what is possibly the finest music of their lives.