A 3-part, feast-y tribute to this last titan, interspersed with my essential playlist.
(6-7 min read + the songs)
Prologue
When Mohammed Zahur Khayyam Hashmi passed away on 19th Aug, 2019, not surprisingly, I found Javed Akhtar Saab’s comment the most telling –
“In the film industry, after the death of a notable person, by force of habit, we say, ‘an era ended today’. But with Khayyam passing away, very truly, an era ended today. He belonged to the era where sur, taal, alfaaz played great importance in music. With him ended this era!”
A lot of our & the earlier generations connected with that & deeply mourned his demise.
But it also made me wonder, how would people who were unfamiliar with his work understand that? Maybe because they don’t understand Hindi / Urdu well enough… What about the generations who came after, say, the 1980s, how would they connect with that? Why would they believe that he was the last titan from the Golden Era of Hindi Film Music?
More so for a man who composed music for barely 50-odd movies, in a career spanning 60+ years! Why? Because the man worked on his own terms. He was so particular about the kind of work he’d accept, took long sabbaticals from the movies, did non-film albums; he was way too atypical to ever be bothered about building a prolific movie career. It made me unsure if there was enough of his work going around, playing on retro film playlists, that people could get to listen to.
Which is where I think tributes can help. They can go beyond just giving voice to the grief of the fans; they can also serve as a welcome introduction to those still on the outside. They could help ‘recruit’ more ‘freshmen’ into the fold & increase the tribe of those who know & enjoy the work. One, so that the flame of the legend’s fame continues to burn bright, without any danger of dimming anytime soon. And, two, we can serve our generational mandate – to be a connecting tissue from the past to the future.
This tribute has been attempted with such an ambition.
With this as impetus, I went back & revisited a lot of his music, losing myself in them all over again (like some, I was listening to, on loop, for days). And a personal, essential playlist started taking shape in my mind. This 3-part blog contains all those handpicked 25 odd songs, in no particular ranking or order, but just as ‘exhibits’ for why he is forever for me.
So, I invite you to this 3-course feast on Khayyam Saab:
- The Delectable Starters: Breezy, romantic melodies
- The Divine Main Course: Landmark, poetic masterpieces
- The Deific Dessert: Backstory of the Man, Woman & Child
Caveat: Hey, music tastes are notoriously subjective. So, an up-front, heads-up to the fans. Some songs / albums of his which are popularly celebrated, are missing in my essential playlist. Like, you won’t find a Footpath, no Thodi Si Bewafaai, no Noorie. This might sound like blasphemy, but I mean no disrespect; Khayyam Saab wasn’t capable of turning in a bad song, anyways. It’s just that I am unapologetic about the ones included, being dearer to me. I’d rather stay true to my tastes on my own blog, than try to be populist to avoid controversy. I hope I haven’t lost you there – stay with me, I’ll try to make it worth your while. Scroll for Starters!
1. The Delectable Starters: Breezy, romantic melodies
I find no better way to welcome people into the world of Khayyam Saab, than with songs that are so easy on the ears, and so eminently hummable.
Most of these songs came to me through All India Radio’s Vividh Bharati. Before we had access to TV, it was programs like Aaj Ke Fankaar, Chitralok, Ek hi film se, Aap ki farmaish, Fauji Bhaiyon ke liye Jaimala which brought us these songs. During lazy afternoons or late evenings in Delhi during the 70s & 80s. Then, of course, Chitrahaar on Doordarshan opened the first home-window to film song videos.
These lilting tunes, or maybe some of the lyrics too, remind me of other compositions by Jaidev, Ravi, Madan Mohan… somehow they seem to set similar moods, stir similar feelings…Maybe those parallels are for another blog post.
- Coming back to Khayyam Saab, let’s start with one of the earliest films of Dharmendra, Shola Aur Shabnam, 1961. Where the lyrics by Kaifi Azmi (Shabana Azmi’s father), and Khayyam Saab’s music played such a pivotal role in registering it as a big hit. You might ask, why is that so great? That’s because the 1960s was a time when stalwarts like S.D. Burman, Shankar-Jaikishan, Naushad and Roshan ruled over the firmament of Hindi film music, which is why it’s referred to as the Golden Era of Hindi Film Music. Almost akin to how the Big 3 – Federer, Nadal & Djokovich – have lorded over world tennis for the last 15-20 years. For a new sound to breakthrough & register with the audience during that period, is no mean feat.
Savor Mohd. Rafi & Lata is this mellifluous duet. So tender, yet so fervent with hope, that love will win in the end.
Jeet Hi Lenge Baazi Hum Tum
2. The next is from another milestone movie in Khayyam Saab’s career, Shagoon, 1964. He was so fond of Raag Pahari that I believe he’s made innumerable songs based on it. And his genius was such that each one of them was distinct. This one is particularly worth reveling in.
With Sahir Ludhianvi painting a picturesque twilight scene in the mountains, Mohd. Rafi & Suman Kalyanpur giving graceful voice to a radiant Waheeda Rehman, and her future husband to be, Kamaljeet.
Listen.
Parbaton Ke Pedon Par
Sample some of these lyrics & their meaning.
Thehre thehre paani mein
Geet sarsaraate hain
Bheege bheege jhonkon mein
Khushbuon ka dera hai
The melody gushes, stirs in the still waters, sending ripples, like love does to the heart. The moist air, gathered with the fragrance of love, is also diffusing the same.
Kyun na jazb ho jaayein
Iss haseen nazaare mein
Roshni ka jhurmat hai
Mastiyon ka ghera hai
Why not get impassioned? (Who would not?) When the weather is intoxicated with beautiful surroundings and a gossamer/cluster of stars (Roshni ka jhurmat!!)
Only Sahir could think up such pithy lines, overflowing with metaphors, and only Khayyam Saab’s music could make them glide so easily! Legend has it that this was the song that Kamal Amrohi heard on the radio, and made a mental note of the composer; and later went on to invite him in to do the music of Razia Sultan. Which went on to be one of Khayyam Saab’s epic albums. More on that later, in the Main Course.
3. Akhri Khat, 1966. Rajesh Khanna’s debut film, written & directed by Chetan Anand, with lyrics, by Kaifi Azmi, again. In this film, Khayyam Saab gave Bhupinder Singh his break as a solo playback singer.
My pick is this silky-smooth, evergreen rhapsody in the dulcet voice of Lata, picturized on Indrani Mukherjee. Again, based on Raag Pahari. Enjoy!
Bahaaron, Mera Jeevan Bhi Sanwaaro
4. As we now move into the late 70s & early 80s, I need to set some context. This was when, on one hand, people were starting to lament that cacophony was increasingly passing around as music. And on the other hand, disco fever, whipped up by Nazia & Zoheb Hassan with Biddu, was sweeping through the country. But this man’s integrity to solid-gold melody stood unshaken & beaming like a lighthouse.
These next two pieces, from that time, carry that classic Khayyam signature. Of minimal music / orchestration, but drenched in maximum melody. And both with the queen on the microphone.
Yeh Mulaqaat Ek Bahaana Hai (Khandaan, 1979).
Na Jaane Kya Hua (Dard, 1981). Raag Pahari strikes again!
- Not sure if you noticed, that many of the songs so far, including the previous 2, had telling use of pauses in them. To me this has always been an enticing hook, even if it’s an oft used trope by many composers. They invite me to bridge the gaps, count the beats in my own mind. The momentary expectation they set, draws me further into the song, and I usually fall hook, line & sinker. Have you found pauses working for you too?
Coming back, here’s rounding off the ‘starters’ with this effortlessly euphonic duet by Lata & Kishore, again, peppered with dexterous use of pauses.
Random trivia: This was a remake of a Tamil movie starring Kamal Hassan and Rajnikanth 🙂
Chandni Raat Mein (Dil e Nadaan, 1982)
In a serendipitous circling back to the earlier mention, this song plays from All India Radio, even in the movie!
This was just to whet your appetite to this man’s repertoire.
The next course will be served soon, stay tuned for The Divine Main Course: Landmark, poetic masterpieces
Meanwhile, would love to hear your comments, either here, or back on the FB post! Hope you can find the time 🙂
