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| Edited By: Yogesh Pawar |Source: DNA |Updated: Dec 05, 2017, 02:04 PM IST
My wife Jagjit (singer Jagjit Kaur) suggested this to me on the second death anniversary of our son Pradeep, who died of a heart attack in 2012. Maybe it is inspired by our late son's helping nature. We've both felt the pain of the film industry's artists and technicians in need. Without these unsung heroes there'd just be no cinema.
We've transferred all our life savings to the Khayyam Jagjit Kaur Charitable Trust. These will be held in fixed deposits and the interest will help us make an annual contribution every October 14. Making it annual, will help sustain support more people for longer.
This is just you being generous. We don't think like this. Who are we to tell people what to do? These are our hard-earned savings. We were inspired by the divine to do what we did. I'm sure Allah, Wahe Guru and Ishwar will inspire many like us...
Yes. It's being made by Prakash Bharadwaj. I liked the concept of the film and agreed. Its actually a small budget film but tells a very important story. That is exactly how I've chosen work all along. I know some people in the industry say I'm headstrong and difficult to work with. But I don't mind saying no to however big a project if I can't identify with the story and milieu. It will just not work. We have recorded one song with Sonu Nigam, who refused to charge a single paisa. The next one will be in Alka Yagnik's voice.
You're right. I did Yatra in 2006 and it was only eight years later I gave music for Bazar-E-Husn. Many must wonder how I sustain myself. We are a family of frugal choices. Without work, there's no money. I'm able to get away with my nakhras of being choosy because of my wife's understanding. Unlike my working class background, my wife comes from a really well-off family and they've often helped us out in tough times.
Not at all. There was great emphasis on pursuing academics to get ahead in life. But it never worked for me. I hated studies and was smitten by movies. I wanted to grow up and become like K.L. Saigal. When they saw that admonishments and beatings had no effect, I was sent off to Delhi to some relatives.
They were both originally from Jalandhar and I trained in the basics of music under them.
See, my gurus had taught me all that they felt I needed. I then went to Lahore to try get into films. I was once taken to meet music legend Baba Chishti, as he was fondly called. Since he was composing, the person who took me along asked me to sit in a corner quietly.
As Baba improvised on piano, he went back and forth with musical tukdas. Suddenly he stopped, saying he'd played something perfect a while ago. No musician there could recollect it. I called out, I could. After shouting at me for getting into his music room, Baba shoved me to the piano. I played the tukda I'd liked most. Impressed, he bid me expand on it. When I did, his tone changed. He asked me who'd trained me. On finding that out, I was made his assistant right away. I was given a room in his mansion and ate with the family. But there was no salary.
On a visit to Ludhiana in 1943, my brother who ran a transport business near Sahnewal airport which was still being developed was upset I wasn't making any money. He beat me up for having ignored studies. He felt my lack of education was making others take advantage.
I fled on one of his trucks leaving Ludhiana. I chanced upon a sign to enrol in the army, went there and got selected. I picked up dedication and discipline there for three years. I often sang and regaled my unit. But my family, which was very influenced by the freedom movement, felt it was wrong to work for what was essentially a British army. So I quit and went back to Baba Chishti.
(Laughs) All thanks to B.R. Chopra sahab whose Chandni Chowk was then being made. I'd be the first to arrive at work, unlock the place and begin rehearsing with musicians. Chopra sahab would watch all this. On the day salary envelopes were being given he insisted I be paid a salary too. "Unlike others he doesn't even take a break for chai or a smoke," he told him. Baba couldn't say a word since he was the producer. Chopra sahab called the accountant and told him that I be paid Rs150 a month. In those days that was a lot. Incidentally, following Partition the film was shelved and later Roshan (Hrithik Roshan's grandfather) gave the music. I then continued with Baba for year in Calcutta and then shifted to Bombay.
I came to Bombay in January 1947 and met my guru Pt Husnlal Bhagatram who had become the go-to music director for all big projects. It was through him that I got a chance to give music for Heer Ranjha with Rahman Varma. Panditji felt it would be better if I went with the name Sharmaji. After Partition there was an atmosphere of suspicion and hatred. Also it rhymed with Varmaji. I was forced to go solo with my own name when Rahman decided to migrate to Pakistan. It was the success of my music for Biwi (1950), particularly the song Akele mein wo ghabrate toh honge (by Mohammed Rafi) which brought me to everyone's attention...
She was herself a trained musician and India's first woman to compose music for films. When she summoned me on hearing the music for Biwi, I was petrified, since she was known to be mercurial with anyone who fell short of her standards.
But she was very pleased and actually took me along to Famous studios insisting that Zia Sarhadi give me a chance. It helped that she was backing me confidently and lyricist Majrooh sahab (Sultanpuri) too pushed. That's how I got my first film as Khayyam, Footpath (1953).
Lata has a blessed voice. You know back in the pre-Independence era, top-notch composer Ghulam Haider picked her to sing for the heroine in Bombay Talkies' Majboor (1948). Like everyone, Rahman Verma and me were curious to know why. Masterji played Piya Milne Ko Aa and Dil Mera Toda and said, "Puttar, yeh apne Master Dinanath (Mangeshkar) ki ladki hai. Woh khud bada hi acchhe singer thhe aur beti ki awaz mein bhi wohi jaadu hai." Master-Ji came from a theatre background himself and hence knew Dinanathji very well.
Since Lata had already sung Aziz Hindi's songs in Heer Ranjha, Rahman and I felt she'd sing for us too for the sake of continuity. But she had no dates for us and had to ask Geeta Dutt. Finally, Lata sang two songs for us in Pyaar Ki Baaten. Nargis, who'd made the film, approached her.
I was worried. Heer Ranjha was fresh in my mind and she'd cancelled her recording for another film of mine at the last moment because of which I'd been dropped from as composer. While she's been very polite, professional and respectful from day one the vibes were quite cold. It was while recording for Aspi Irani's Barood (1960) with the songs Rang Rangeela Saanwara and Teri Duniya Mein Nahi Koi Sahara Apna, I saw her change. Later while recording San San San Chale Re Pawan and Raat Lagake Aayi Chaand Ki Bindiya for Hum Hain Raahi Pyar Ke, (1960) things got better.
Over time, she began to trust me completely. For Baharon Mera Jeevan Bhi Sanwaro (Aakhri Khat, 1967) I had a minute and half long instrumental prelude with Pt Shivkumar Sharma on santoor, Pt Hariprasad Chaurasia on flute and Ustad Rais Khan on sitar in what was a last minute composition. Or with Aap Yun Faaslon Se (Shankar Hussain, 1977) where I kept the volume for vocals and orchestration low at filmmaker Kamal Amrohi's behest, she never questioned me. Also here let me add that Lata has sung so many of my songs in one take.
When we were working on Shankar Hussain, we asked Kamal Amrohi to screen what he'd shot for Pakeezah. At the screening, Jagjit exclaimed that the film was a classic which should be completed. Amrohi shook his head. "Manju (his name for Meena Kumari) won't agree." Jagjit promised to bring her on board and persuaded the actress to agree." It helped that Sunil and Nargis Dutt too pushed both sides and Pakeezah took off...
With Lata there would've been a big Pakeezah hangover and people would think it's her not Umrao Jaan singing. I'd worked with Asha and knew her voice would match the huskiness of Rekha's beautifully.
Asha Bhosale's really hard working. When told she'll have to sing in a lower octave than her usual scale, she asked for a week to prepare. On the day of the recording when everything was arranged, she got cold feet and asked if she could sing in her own scale. "We'll do one take in this scale and then re-arrange the instruments and do another take with your original scale," I assured.
But you know Asha (laughs). She said, "Khao Pradeep (Khayyam sahab's late son) ki kasam ki ek aur take karenge." I nodded. "Tum bhi Ma Saraswati ki kasam khao ki ekdum imandaari se jaise bataya hai gaaogi."
Later, when she heard the recording in the lower octave, she was ecstatic and said: "I didn't know I could sing like that."
Of course!
I have worked with her only when I thought it did justice to the song. Like Tum Apna Ranjo Gam in Shagoon (1964). You know Asha and her late daughter Varsha were on the same flight as us in 1982 while going for the National Awards. Asha introduced Jagjit to Varsha saying: "This is the taan that travels three octaves." She was referring to Kaahe ko byaahi bides, the 14th Century Amir Khusro composition in Jagjit's voice which plays out as the beginning credits roll in the movie.
There was a time one felt melody is dead in film music and every song began to have sound dham-dham. That's when I found an outlet for my musical creativity in the 195 non-filmi songs I composed. I feel blessed to have worked with a great like Begum Akhtar. Even with Rafi, you will be shocked at how he kept all his name and fame as an established singer aside and practiced like a young disciple for the album Shauq Har Rang. Same was true for Meena Kumari's I Write, I Recite. In 1998, Asha and Khayyam saw me collaborating with Bhosale too for a non-film album.
Though bad at studies, our collection of books caught my interest early on. Whether legendary Urdu poets like Mirza Ghalib, Mir, Daagh or Allama Iqbal, they have all left a sharp influence on me. Later, I worked closely with Ali Sardar Jafri, Majrooh Sultanpuri and Sahir Ludhianvi and their poetry too is very powerful and moving. I'm very fond of poetry by Naqsh Lyalpuri, Nida Fazli, Jaan Nisaar Akhtar and Ahmed Wasi.
It was Kamal Amrohi's idea. Even Lata and I were taken aback at how the haunting feel of the song was enhanced.
A day after the recording, we were all asleep at home when the bell rang at 2am. Jaya Bachchan and filmmaker Sultan Ahmed had come. Apologising for coming so late, she asked me for the tape saying Amitji (Amitabh Bachchan) had sent her to fetch it. I told her its with Amrohi sahab and assured her that it would reach her the next day. Two days after Amrohi sahab had Pradeep drop the tape, Yashji, Sahir Ludhianvi who had also heard the song came home and offered me Kabhi Kabhie.
I wasn't convinced about the subject and said so to Yashji. He tried a lot to convince me but eventually gave up and went with Shiv-Hari.
No. This is all written. Who am I to have misgivings about Allah's wish?
To each his own. I think my answer to this can be found in my earlier response.
I think the music comes and goes. It does not make a permanent place in the heart like before. And this is not for lack of talent but because there is a lack of subjects like we had in our times.
Several of them. AR Rahman is fabulous. What a tune he made with Dil Hai Chhota Sa. I also like Vishal-Shekhar and Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy. The brothers Salim Merchant and Sulaiman Merchant have also done some great work.
