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An ode to Naushad
‘Naushad Ali is no more’ read the morning newspapers. How could someone who had immortalised film music ever be gone from this world? Naushad Ali lives through his music even after he is gone.
Dilip Kumar, another great legend of the Hindi film world, had once said about Naushadji: “His music has melody, melancholy ... very rarely does a person remain unmoved by his haunting music.” Even in today’s era of remixes, pop and unashamed aping of western music, generation-X unknowingly hums his songs.
I still remember meeting the humble music genius nearly 18 years ago at his sprawling bungalow on a sleepy, silent Carter Road in Bandra, one of the posh suburbs in Mumbai, India. The only sound entering the slumbers of his home then were the gentle murmur of sea waves crashing softly on the rocks adjacent to the concrete wall.
The inside of the bungalow retained the ambience of a Lucknowi shahi mahal — a huge open piano at the centre of the large hall, walls adorned with sepia-tinted pictures and some heads of deer and other animals. Semi-circular soft sofas covered with muted furnishings were placed in one half of the hall. I was elated at meeting the genius composer of songs like Yeh husn zara jaag (Mere Mehboob), Ek shahenshah ne banwa ke hasin Taj Mahal (Leader), Dagaa baj tori batiyan na manu re (Ganga Jamna) and several others.
It was the partnership of M. Rafi, Dilip Kumar, lyricist Shakeel Badayuni and Naushad that gave the film world outstanding music. The buzz in the film industry is that with the death of Rafi and with age catching up with Dilip Kumar, the fortunes of Naushad also started dwindling. By then the music scene, too, had changed considerably and the once-popular music director was suddenly without any films
Speaking in chaste Lucknow Urdu, leading me gently to the most comfortable sofa in the hall, Naushadji smiled in his gentle way, and after having ensured my comfort, started talking about old and new music. “Today’s music directors have to work according to the whims of the film producers and directors. Their music has to please the senses of the chauffeurs of producers and directors. If the drivers like the tune, the music director gets a go-ahead,” he had said bitterly.
He recalled an incident when he was asked to compose music for the much-celebrated film, Mughal-i-Azam. The film’s producer-director, K. Asif had categorically made it clear to the then young Naushad that as he was the music director, the credit and discredit would both be his. “You decide how to make your music and don’t ask for my advice,” he had reportedly said. It had taken young Naushad a whole night and a day to compose only one song: Pyar kiya to darna kya. The rest is history.In fact, it was his deep contemplation over every sur of his compositions that made him restrict to only 67 films in his 65 years of professional life. Compare this to today’s music directors who, having barely four or five years in the industry, have a far more number of films to their credit. “That is why these songs are forgotten within a year,” Naushadji had explained.
Born in Lucknow in 1919, Naushad Ali loved music since his childhood days. He would sneak behind curtains to look at live orchestras accompanying the movies of the silent era. He trained under Ustad Ghurbat Ali, Ustad Yusuf Ali and Ustad Babban saheb. Before coming to Bombay, he repaired harmoniums and composed for amateur theatricals such as the Windsor Music Entertainers. In the 1930s, when he reached the shores of Bombay to try his luck as a musician, he didn’t realise that he would have to struggle so hard. “I spent many hungry nights on the footpath of Dadar (another suburb of Mumbai) till I got a small job as a pianist in composer Mushtaq Hussain’s orchestra,” he later recalled.
From there he joined music director Khemchand Prakash (whom he considered his teacher) as his assistant. Prem Nagar (1940) was his first independent break but he first got noticed with Sharda (1942) in which he used the then 13-year-old Suraiya to sing for the heroine, Mehtab. It was Rattan (1944) that heralded Naushadji’s arrival as a top composer and saw him charge Rs25,000 for a film. In the ’40s it was considered a huge amount, and one that fully acknowledged his talent. Ankhiyaan milake jiya bharmake chale nahin jaana and Sawan ke baadalo became raging hits. And then there was no looking back as every film became a hit and till today, the songs are still considered the very best.
Among these are A.R. Kardar’s Shahjahan (1946), Dard (1947), Dillagi (1949), Dulari (1949) and Mehboob Khan’s Anmol Ghadi (1946), Elaan (1947), Anokhi Ada (1948) and Andaz (1949). The super hits were Baiju Bawra, Mughal-i-Azam, Mere Mehboob, Udan Khatola, Mother India, Kohinoor, Saathi, Ganga Jamna, Ram aur Shyam and Pakeezah.Naushad’s greatest contribution was to bring Indian classical music into the film medium. Many of his compositions were inspired by ragas and he even used distinguished classical artistes like Amir Khan and D.V. Pulaskar in Baiju Bawra (1952) and Bade Ghulam Ali Khan in Mughal-i-Azam, while Baiju Bawra demonstrated his grasp of classical music. He loved raag Lalit (Ek shahenshah ne banwake hasin Taj Mahal) and raag Piloo (Dagaa baaj tori batiyan na manu re and the racier Gaadi wale gaadi dheere haank re (Mother India). In essence, he made it easy for the aam junta to hum semi-classical through his music.
To quote India’s greatest playback singer Lata Mangeshkar who sang for many of his films: “But for him, I wouldn’t have been Lata.” After his demise on May 5, Lataji recalled incidents when in her early days as a singer, she found it difficult to pronounce the Urdu and Hindi words liberally used in the songs of yore. “Naushadji told me that if I got the pronunciations right, the world would be mine.” He loved both Lata and the late Mohammad Rafi. He would often say: “There can be a thousand singers, but there will always be one Rafi. Another quality that separates today’s singers from the early days is that in those days the greatest of singers like Lata, Rafi and Madam Noorjehan didn’t mind being corrected or practising every note again and again to get the emotions of the song right.”
In fact, it was the partnership of Rafi, Dilip Kumar, lyricist Shakeel Badayuni and of course Naushadji that gave the film world outstanding music. The buzz in the film industry is that with the death of Rafi and with age catching up with Dilip Kumar, the fortunes of Naushadji also started dwindling. By then the music scene, too, had changed considerably. No present-day director or producer has months to wait for music to be ready for the film and this hurt him a lot. A once most popular music director was suddenly without any films on hand.
It was Akber Khan who resurrected the music maestro with his latest venture, Taj Mahal, in 2005 and which became his last. But somehow, in today’s cacophony, his music got lost and also as the film bombed at the box-office, no one noticed the music. I had met him again just five years ago when on an assignment to interview shehnai maestro Ustad Bismillah Khan. Naushadji, too, had come to meet up with him and though he still retained his soft way of talking and never interrupting when the other person was speaking, age had caught up with him. He walked with the help of a walker and looked a bit disillusioned. “Aaj ke jamane ko hamari music ki jaroorat nahin,” said the legendary composer who had won Dada Saheb Phalke’s Life Time Achievement Award for his contribution to music and also the Indian Government’s highest civilian Padma Bhushan award besides the Filmfare awards. His death has truly brought an end to the golden era of film music, though his songs will live forever.|
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