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16.06.1920-26.09.1989 |
This post has been
a long time coming. I first intended this to be posted on Hemant Kumar’s birth
anniversary in June, but blogging has been, of necessity, an intermittent
affair this year. But it is rather baffling that in my many years of blogging,
except for one post, I’d never written a standalone post for a man who was not
only a great singer, but also a music director, producer, and a major exponent
of Rabindra Sangeet. It is an unintended error that begged to be rectified. But,
the question was, what should I focus on? His career as a singer? Or as a
composer? He had been eminently successful in both fields. Since I don’t know enough about his work in Bengali films (and non-film music), this post will only focus on his Hindi film output.
Hemanta Kumar
Mukhopadhyay, better known to the Hindi film music world as Hemant Kumar, was
born in Banaras (Varanasi) on 16 June 1920. His paternal family hailed from Baharu, a town
in the South 24 Paraganas district in West Bengal. When he was eight, his
father moved the family to Calcutta. It was in Calcutta that young Hemanta
became more closely acquainted with the world of music – from hearing the songs
of the travelling musicians to becoming part of a group of friends who
enthusiastically supported his burgeoning talent. One of them, Subhash Mukhopadhyay, was instrumental
in arranging for an audition at the All India Radio (then known as the Indian
Broadcasting Corporation). The year – 1935. Hemanta was only 15 years old.
A couple of
appearances on IBC made the teenager a local celebrity but did nothing to
further his career ambitions. Hemanta passed his Intermediate and, in
accordance with his father’s wishes, joined Bengal Technical Institute at
Jadavpur (now Jadavpur University) to study engineering. Meanwhile, he also
tried his hand at writing, even publishing a few short stories in prestigious
magazines. Finally, ill health and his own desire to make it in the world of
music led to him abandoning his studies. Though disappointed, his father did
not stand in the way of his son’s dreams. Indeed, it was one of his colleagues
who offered to introduce Hemanta to Sailesh Duttagupta, a famous musician and
radio artist. The meeting led to Hemanta being offered two songs to sing. In
1937, Hemanta recorded two (non-film) songs – Janite jadi go tumi and Balogo balo more for Duttagupta, both written by Naresh Bhattacharya. This was just the beginning.
Duttagupta became
both mentor and trainer to Hemanta and the latter continued to sing not only
for Columbia Records and HMV but also for The Gramophone Company of India and
All India Radio as well. Duttagupta also introduced Hemanta to the vast
soundscape of Rabindra Sangeet. Hemanta’s grounding in music also came from
Phani Bhusan Ganguly and Anadi Ghosh Dastidar.
In 1941, Hemanta
sang for his first film, Nimai Sanyas, and followed it up with two songs
for Rajkumarer Nirbasan, in the same year. Hemanta was now earning a
decent amount of money through playback singing, non-film recordings and
frequent broadcasts over AIR. This last stint introduced him to Pankaj Mullick,
a man he considered his idol. Indeed, Mullick’s influence was so strong that
Hemanta’s initial forays into singing showed a pronounced tendency to mimic his idol’s singing style. So marked was this imitation that Hemanta was
nicknamed ‘Chhoto Pankaj’. However, by
the time he began playback singing, he had adopted his own style.
By now, he had
already composed several Bengali non-film songs, and his first self-composed
disk with two songs was released in 1943. He’d earlier recorded several
non-film songs in Hindi; now, he sang his first Hindi film song in Meenakshi (1942) for Pankaj Mullick, and followed it up with a two solos and a duet for Irada
(1944) under Pt. Amarnath’s baton. Meanwhile, he also recorded several film
songs and non-film songs in Hindi for Kamal Dasgupta. By 1950, Hemanta had worked with
almost all the stalwarts of the Bengali music industry.
It was a busy decade. Hemanta’s career
was taking off; he married Bela Mukherjee, whom he had met at AIR; he
joined the Indian People’s Theatre Association (IPTA ), an association that was formed in the aftermath of the tragic consequences of the Great Bengal Famine of 1943 and to protest against the administration’s indifference to the plight of the common people. IPTA gave voice to the grievances of the common man.
It was at IPTA that he would meet Salil Choudhury; their collaboration beginning with an iconic 6-minute song – Kono ek ganyer bodhu – written
and composed by Salil Choudhury and sung by Hemanta. The song, recorded on a double-sided 78rpm became a runaway success.
Hemanta was now a household name. [Ironically, Salilda was in hiding at the time and couldn’t profit from the song’s
popularity.] However, the collaboration between the two men was only beginning.
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| Pic: Courtesy Silhouette Magazine |
Another
acquaintance was proving beneficial – his association with director Hemen
Gupta. When Gupta moved to Bombay a few years later, he called upon Hemanta to
compose the music for his first Hindi directorial venture – Anand Math
(1952). The film was an average success.
The next couple of
years were a struggle, but Shashadhar Mukherjee, the owner of Filmistan Studios
was reluctant to release Hemanta from his contract. His faith was vindicated –
1954 saw Hemanta compose for six films, out of which four were produced by Filmistan. Of which, Nagin (1954) would
become a blockbuster. Hemanta’s use of the clavioline (played by Kalyanji) to mimic the been was a stroke of genius. It became the leitmotif of the film. The songs became hugely popular and many viewers came to see the film for the songs. Hemanta Kumar Mukhopadhyay had now become ‘Hemant Kumar’, a successful Hindi film music director.
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Hemant Kumar with SD Burman Pic Courtesy: SM Ausaja [in Silhouette |
Alongside, Hemant
Kumar was also cementing his reputation as a playback singer. While he had been
singing in Hindi films, it was Jaal (1952), under SD
Burman’s baton, that would establish Hemant Kumar the Hindi
film industry as a playback singer of repute. The success of the romantic ode Ye raat ye chandni phir kahaan served to cement Hemant Kumar’s position as Dev Anand’s ‘romantic voice’.
All along, Hemant had also been composing for films, both Bengali and Hindi. His melodies were filled with an innocent sweetness that bespoke his affinity towards simplicity. He was a well-known
exponent of Rabindra Sangeet, a famous singer and composer. If these weren’t
enough, he also ventured into film production – his first film was Neel
Akasher Neeche (1959), based on Mahadevi Verma’s short story Chini
Feriwala.
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| A still from Neel Akasher Neechey |
The film has the unique distinction of being the first film to be
banned by the Government of India and winning the President’s Gold Medal
for Best Feature Film.
Over the next few
decades, Hemant Kumar would continue to sing and compose music for many Bengali and
Hindi films, television serials, and one English film – Siddhartha
(1972). Today, on his 35th
death anniversary, as a tribute to a great singer-composer, a (very subjective)
list of the songs composed by Hemant Kumar, in no particular order. (Though my
favourites tend to cluster on top.)
Sahib Bibi aur Ghulam (1962)
Singer: Geeta Dutt
Lyrics: Shakeel
Badayuni
This song was the crown jewel in a score that boasted a bouquet of wonderful melodies. As the haunting notes begin, it sets the mood for the tale that’s about to unfold before our eyes. The pathos in Geeta Dutt’s voice heightens the suspense. Hemant Kumar keeps the orchestration minimal to allow Geeta’s voice, with its wealth of pain and longing, to hold our attention. Cinematographer VK Murthy worked his magic to highlight the shadows thrown by the lighted windows of the haveli as the doomed Chhoti Bahu’s voice echoes through its long corridors.
Hum ne dekhi hai in aankhon ki mehakti khushboo
Khamoshi (1969)
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Lyrics: Gulzar
Khamoshi, a remake of Deep Jwele Jaai (1959), had three outstanding numbers; this one, written by Gulzar at his poetic best; Kishore’s Woh shaam kuch ajeeb thi and the haunting Hemant solo, Tum pukar lo. My personal favourite is Humne dekhi hai in aankhon ki mehakti khushboo, as much for its lyrics and context as for its melody.
As an emotionally distraught Nurse Radha (Waheeda Rehman) hears this song on the radio, she realizes that it is the same song that Arun (Rajesh Khanna) had written and composed. Arun is now a patient in her care, deeply traumatised by his girlfriend Sulekha’s (Snehalata) rejection. Adding salt to his already wounded soul is the fact that she had stolen this composition, using it to scale the ladder of success. Hemant’s music and Lata’s vocals elevate Gulzar’s lyrics to an emotional high.
Bees Saal
Baad (1962)
Singer: Hemant
Kumar
Lyrics: Shakeel Badayuni
I must confess that while I love this song, I don’t quite think that Hemant managed to express the playful flirtatiousness that the lyrics convey. I do love how the lyrics are alternately sung and recited, though, and there’s a sweetness to the melody that’s to Hemant Kumar’s credit as the composer. There’s a gentleness and serenity to the way the hero (Biswajeet), besotted by this lovely young woman, approaches her.
Qaatil tumhe pukaaroon ke jaan-e-wafaa kahoon
Hairat mein pad gaya hoon ke main tum ko kya kahoon… he says, before continuing to praise her beauty.
Kohraa (1964)
Singer: Hemant
Kumar
Lyrics: Kaifi Azmi
Like many other Bengali music directors, Hemant Kumar often adapted his earlier Bengali compositions in Hindi films. Here, he reuses his haunting Ei raat tomaar amaar from Deep Jwele Jaai to great effect, turning it into a quietly romantic ode.Biswajeet, whom Hemant Kumar had introduced in Bees Saal Baad, stars as De Winter, while Waheeda Rehman is Rebecca in this not-so-great adaptation of Daphne Du Maurier’s famous novel. However, Kohraa had a wonderful soundtrack, including the haunting Jhoom jhoom dhalti raat and the quietly exuberant O beqaraar dil, both of which have appeared on my earlier lists.
Champakali (1957)
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Lyrics: Rajinder Krishan
This is a song that I have liked for a long time, having heard it for the first time on an old cassette of ‘rare’ Lata Mangeshkar songs that my father had in his collection. Strangely enough, it came to mind because I recently heard Hemant Kumar’s O banshi te daake she (Surjomukhi, 1956) and immediately recognized the basic melody. The film is a mess but with Suchitra Sen, Bharat Bhushan and Hemant Kumar’s music, it managed an average run at the box office.
Anupama (1966)
Singer: Lata
Mangeshkar
Lyrics: Kaifi
Azmi
Hemant preferred simple tunes, saying that the simpler the music, the more people would appreciate it. The enduring popularity of his compositions prove him right. And one of his greatest virtues as a composer was in knowing how to tailor his music to the lyrics and the context. Here, for example,Kaifi’s lyrics reflect the aching loneliness of a young woman who has only ever received rejection from her father. She is timid and submissive and only gives voice to her emotions when she’s sure no one is around to hear her. Hemant’s melody is equally gentle, providing just the right framework to cradle the words. Lata’s voice, similarly, is soft yet expressive of the sadness that is implicit in the lyrics.
Ferry (1954)
Singer: Ratna Gupta
Lyrics: Rajinder Krishan
This is a song that I came across quite recently and I’d a hard time believing it was composed by Hemant Kumar – it’s quite unlike his usual style. But, as was his wont, the music is very subdued even though the song (in both versions) is a mujra. The singer is Ratna, Hemen Gupta’s wife.
Jagriti (1954)
Singer:
Mohammed Rafi
Lyrics: Kavi
Pradeep
Jagriti, coming just a few years after India attained independence, was a film that took its responsibilities seriously, focusing on nation building even as the country’s leaders tried to ease the trauma of the Partition. Here, Abhi Bhattacharya is the idealistic teacher who exhorts his students to take care of their hard-won freedom.
It was an endearing trait of Hemant as a composer that he didn’t automatically insist upon singing all the male solos and duets he composed. In Jagriti, for example, Hemant does not sing a single song. (The other male solo is sung by Pradeep.)
Lyrics: Rajinder Krishan
Rahne ko ghar do
Biwi Aur Makaan (1966)
Lyrics: Gulzar
Hemant’s preferred male singer, after himself, was Mohammed Rafi. He also used Kishore Kumar and Manna Dey sparingly (Talat Mahmood and Mukesh have only sung duets under his baton). But this song, from Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s satirical take on housing issues, allows Manna Dey to showcase his full range as a singer. Picturised on Mehmood (who often lip-synced to Manna’s songs on screen), who does full justice to Manna’s vocals.
Laalten (1956)
Singer: Balbir
Lyrics: Shewan Rizvi
I had neither heard of this film nor any of its songs until I began writing this post. I was looking for male singers who sang under Hemant’s baton and came across this delightful qawali sung by Balbir (and some videos says music director Ravi as well – by this time, Ravi was assisting Hemant). All I can glean from my research is that the film starred Geeta Bali and Motilal.
Do Ladke Dono Kadke (1979)
Singer: KJ Yesudas
Lyrics: Yogesh
Produced by Hemant Kumar and directed by Basu Chatterjee, Do Ladke Dono Kadke did not live up to its potential as a coherent film. However, this song, composed by Hemant and sung by Yesudas is a delightful one. As always, Hemant kept things simple and instrumentation to the minimum allowing Yesudas’s voice to do the needful.
The songs listed above are all solos. But there are many duets that he composed that have been my absolute favourites. Some of them are listed below.
salone aaye din bahaar ke
Ek Hi Raasta (1956)
Singers: Lata
Mangeshkar, Hemant Kumar
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Such a lovely, joyous duet! It is as light and frothy as the Springtime it speaks of, and a very-unlike-Hemant-Kumar tune as can be. The music complements the movement of the tandem bicycle on screen, and the harmonica cheerfully punctuates the break between the antaras. It’s a ‘pretty’ song as well, if one includes the visuals – a happy, loving family on a bike ride through the countryside, extolling the beauty of nature and the signs of Spring. Sakhi ri sun bole papiha
Miss Mary (1957)
Singers: Lata
Mangeshkar, Asha Bhosle
Lyrics:
Rajinder Krishan
A semi-classical number sung by two of the most accomplished female vocalists of the era. Asha matches her elder sister, note for note, verse for verse in this lovely jugalbandi between teacher (Meena Kumari) and student (Meenakshi). Lata begins the song, sans accompaniment and soon, a tabla joins in, muted. The only other instrument to be heard is the tanpura. Even as the song gathers steam, the instrumentation is minimal in keeping with the location – a student’s home. Lovely!
Arab Ka Saudagar (1956)
Singers: Asha Bhosle, Hemant Kumar
Lyrics: Ravi
Another song that I haven’t heard before from a film that I hadn’t heard of. From what I can gather, the film, an Arabian Nights-themed fantasy starred Pradeep Kumar in the eponymous role and Shashikala as the beautiful princess, Niloufer. Be that as it may, this lovely romantic duet was a revelation. The lyricist ‘Ravi’ is none other than music director Ravi, who was Hemant’s assistant during this period.
Lyrics Jayadeva
The collection of hymnal verses known as the Dashavatar Stotram are from Jayadeva’s Geeta Govinda. (The cinematic version uses five
of these verses, depicting only five incarnations of Vishnu – Meena (fish), Vaamana (dwarf), Rama, Buddha and Kalki.) What is interesting is
the way it is sung –the voices of Geeta Roy (as she was at the time) and Hemant
Kumar continuously overlap each other. Hemant Kumar’s recital of the shlokas begins faintly (he is singing
for Prithviraj Kapoor, who is at some distance from the camp) and then, Geeta Roy
holds forth for Geeta Bali with ‘Keshava,
dhrita meena shareera…’; so far, it’s like a conventional recitation-song duet,
but this is where it becomes quite unusual:
there is no line from here on, where the two singers are not singing – only, they are singing
completely different lines all through. It is almost as if there are two songs –
two completely different songs – being sung simultaneously.
For Hemant Kumar, like many other music
directors, Lata Mangeshkar was the obvious choice for the female voice.
In his debut film, however, it was Geeta Dutt who had the lion’s share
of female vocals – two duets and two solos, while Lata Mangeshkar came
in only for Vande mataram.
A gentle luminary, Hemant Kumar
holds the distinction of having refused both the Padma Shri and the Padma
Bhushan – civilian honours bestowed by the Government of India. However, his legacy does
not depend on awards or honours – it lives on in the songs he recorded and
composed. As Salilda famously said, “If God ever decided to sing, he would do
so in the voice of Hemant Kumar.” That is his legacy.
Thank you, Hemantda.