Bahaarein
Phir Bhi Aayengi (1966)
Music: OP
Nayyar
Lyrics: Anjaan
Picturised on: Dharmendra
The only
problem with singing a song when there are two women present is that you need
to make it very clear who you are singing to – or the wrong woman might
reciprocate. Jeeten (Dharmendra) is singing praises of his lady love, Sunita
(Tanuja) who, shyly, reciprocates his affection. Unfortunately, her elder
sister Anita (Mala Sinha), mistakenly assumes that her reporter is hinting at
his affection for her.
The film marked
the end of the rift between Guru Dutt and OP Nayyar and the latter composed a
romantic ballad that combined music, melody and lyrics to perfection. Rafi’s
voice, warm and mellow, caressed the notes in a manner only he could. Picturised
on a very young and very handsome Dharmendra, and the lovely ladies, Mala Sinha
and Tanuja.
B – Banda
parwar thaam lo jigar
Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon (1963)
Music: OP
Nayyar
Lyrics: Majrooh
Sultanpuri
Picturised on: Joy
Mujherjee
As Bertie
Wooster would say, Spring is when a young man sort of wishes a young lady would
come up to him and ask him to save her from assassins. Here, of course, the
young man, disguised as a tangawala, faux abducts the girl he loves. She
is not exactly averse to his attentions, and once she realises who her ‘kidnapper’
is, she is content to sit back and enjoy the ride.
Phir Wohi
Dil Laaya Hoon is one of
Nasir Hussain’s patent entertainers, and makes for pleasant viewing indeed.
This song includes OP Nayyar’s signature tanga beats, and Mohammed Rafi lends
his voice to this lovely melody that, though as romantic as Aap ke haseen
rukh, is in a completely different mood. Banda parwar thaam lo jigar
is a peppy song, sung with lightness; Rafi’s voice glides like warm honey and
brings a smile to your face.
Tumsa Nahin Dekha (1957)
Music: OP
Nayyar
Lyrics: Majrooh
Sultanpuri
Picturised on: Shammi
Kapoor
Tumsa Nahin
Dekha had a bouquet of
songs, each lovelier than the other. Rafi infuses this quiet melody with a
stillness that differentiates it from, say, Yun toh humne laakh haseen
dekhi. Yet, there’s playfullness, there’s teasing, there’s love in his voice that Shammi Kapoor expresses so beautifully on screen. Theirs was truly a match made in heaven – voice and soul!
D – Dekhi zamaane ki yaari
Kaagaz ke Phool
(1959)
Music: SD
Burman
Lyrics: Kaifi
Azmi
Picturised on: Guru
Dutt
Dekhi
zamaane ki yaari is the
perfect example of how a song can sound drastically different in different
iterations. When we first hear it, we see a hugely successful Sinha (Guru
Dutt), surrounded by adoring fans. Rafi’s voice lets us peek into Sinha’s inner
world – Dekhi zamaane ki yaari suggests that Sinha is aware of how
fickle this adulation can be. In its second iteration, Rafi’s voice exudes
melancholy; Sinha is now a failure, down on his luck, so poor that he’s chased
out of the studios that were once his fiefdom. The cynicism in Kaifi’s lyrics is
but a reflection of Sinha’s realization that the glamorous show world of which
he was an undisputed ruler masks its transactional nature. The world takes back
a hundredfold what it gives you. Kaifi’s imagery is both stark and painful –
where Spring is but a momentary guest; where joy ends when the night passes;
where bees hover around paper flowers in vain, and where hope stumbles amid the
sands.
SD’s music
whips up the image of a mental storm, complementing Rafi’s voice rising into a
crescendo. It’s an image that Guru Dutt masterfully picturises as a wind
whipping Sinha’s frayed and shabby garments.
E – Ehsaan tera hoga mujh par
Junglee (1961)
Music: Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Hasrat
Jaipuri
Picturised on
Shammi Kapoor
Another ‘quiet’
song picturised on Shammi Kapoor – this time, he’s trying to placate his
beloved who’s rightfully angry at the humiliation she has suffered at his
mother’s hands. Rafi infuses the song with a sweet – but quiet – passion that makes
you want to forgive your man a thousand wrongs.
F – Falak bola khuda ke husn
Khuda ka
Banda (1957)
Music: SN
Tripathi
Lyrics: Shewan
Rizvi
Picturised on: Bhagwan Sinha, Tiwari (?)
This lyrics by
Shewan Rizvi traverse religion, humanity and philosophy as two qawwals
debate the eternal question:
Falak bola Khuda
ka husn hain meri fazaaon mein
Zameen boli
Khuda maujood hai meri hawaaon mein
What is
interesting is that Rafi lends his voice for both men, and he modulates his
voice to distinguish one’s arrogance and the other’s humility, giving the
impression that there are two singers giving playback. It’s a stunning
performance, and a beautiful qawwali composed by that underrated music
director, SN Tripathi.
G – Gham ke andheri
raat mein (with Talat Mahmood)
Sushila (1963)
Music: C Arjun
Lyrics: Jan
Nisar Akhtar
Picturised on:?
This song is
one of the few duets on this list; there weren’t too many songs beginning with
‘Ga’ that I liked and I didn’t want to use Gham iss kadar badhe ke main
ghabraakar pee gaya (Pyaasa) since it was more of a recitation than
a song. Rafi recited it fabulously, of course, but I thought this song, though
a duet, would be a better fit.
Talat Mahmood’s
quiet despair is complemented by Rafi’s note of hope and optimism; it’s a
beautiful melody sung by two legends, languishing unfortunately in an obscure
film released almost a decade later as Subah Zaroor Aayegi (1977).
Lala Rukh (1958)
Music: Khayyam
Lyrics: Kaifi
Azmi
Picturised on: Lotan
If this song
had been picturised on Talat Mahmood as was originally intended, it would have
been a coup of sorts – Rafi singing for Talat. However, the song was eventually
picturised on Lotan (and Radhika, Kumkum’s younger sister). While Talat played
the romantic hero, Khayyam brought Rafi in for this lilting ballad, making sure
the composition would not be ‘technically perfect’. Rafi validated Khayyam’s
faith in him by imbuing the melody with both lyricism and romance.
I – Iss rang badalti duniya mein
Rajkumar (1964)
Music:
Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Hasrat
Jaipuri
Picturised on: Shammi
Kapoor
Shammi Kapoor
would be the first to admit that much of his success must be attributed to his
singing voice, Mohammed Rafi. Certainly, the success of Shammi as a romantic
hero can certainly be laid at the feet of Rafi’s mellifluous voice serenading
the different heroines through Shammi’s on-screen avatar. This song, for
instance. While Shammi is known to prance around like a whirling dervish – ‘the
man won’t stand still for a minute’ said Rafi – there are times when he
channels his inner romantic and becomes even more swoon-worthy than ever.
In Rafi’s voice
is the awe that Shammi expresses on screen to his lady love (Sadhana); In this rapidly
changing world, men’s intentions are not honourable (Insaan ki neeyat theek nahin).
And why only men? He daren’t say goodbye to her because he trusts no one. She
is so beautiful that he suspects even God would be led astray.
Kaise khuda
haafiz keh doon /Mujhko
toh kisi ka yaqeen nahin
Chup jaao
hamaari aankhon mein/Bhagwan ki neeyat theek nahin
J – Jungal mein mor naacha
Madhumati (1958)
Music: Salil
Choudhury
Lyrics:
Shailendra
Picturised on: Johnny
Walker
Johnny Walker
playing a drunk, on screen – exceptionally well, considering he was a
teetotaller. Rafi, slurring the lyrics in perfect sur, and never mind that he
was a teetotaller as well. Rafi’s voice dipped and soared, slurred and
hiccupped and gave us a song that was intoxicating to listen to. Like Shammi
Kapoor, Johnny Walker also insisted upon Rafi singing playback for him. And the
singer went the extra mile for songs picturised on the legendary comedian.
Salilda’s
compositions, even the seemingly simple ones, are never easy to sing, and that
Rafi does so well is a testament to his incredible talent. Interestingly, Rafi
also lent his voice to Dilip Kumar in Toote hue khwaabon mein in the
same film, and one could swear they were two different playback singers. Jungal
mein more naacha is a perfect melding of music, lyrics, rendition and
picturisation.
K – Kahin ek masoom nazuk si ladki
Shankar
Hussain (1976)
Music: Khayyam
Lyrics: Kamal
Amrohi
Picturised on: Kanwaljeet
Kahin ek mason
nazuk si ladki is Rafi at his
romantic best, the sort of song that makes you want to fall in love. This is an
out-and-out Rafi song because Khayyam keeps the orchestration minimal, allowing
Rafi, with his voice modulation, to take centre-stage.
Rafi is just
brilliant here, soft and sensual. Though the song is wasted on Kanwaljeet – the poor chap is so
wooden in his debut film that all of Rafi’s voice-emoting is squandered.
The film had an
unusual subject but neither the direction nor the acting was up to par, leaving
this film to be lost in obscurity.
L – Lagta
nahin ye dil mera
Lal Qila (1960)
Music: SN
Tripathi
Lyrics: Bahadur
Shah Zafar
Picturised on: M
Kumar
Another song –
a ghazal – with minimum orchestral accompaniment, Lagta nahin ye dil
mera is an ode to the aching loneliness of a man imprisoned in a land far
from his homeland. Written by Bahadur Shah Zafar, the last Mughal emperor,
while imprisoned in Rangoon, there’s a resigned hopelessness to the couplets as
he bemoans the ruin of his empire and the devastation that’s yet to come. Rafi,
reciting this ghazal, infused it with the despair felt by a man who knew
he would never see his country again, in life or after death.
Kitna hai badnaseeb
‘Zafar’ dafn ke liye
Do gaz
zamiin bhi na mili ku-e-yaar mein
M – Mann re tu kaahe na dheer dhare
Chitralekha(1964)
Music: Roshan
Lyrics: Sahir
Ludhianvi
Picturised on: Pradeep
Kumar
Roshan joins
the pantheon of music directors who realized that Rafi’s voice was enough to
render their compositions immortal. Rafi’s rendition here stands out for its
stark simplicity; Roshan wisely uses very little instrumentation, allowing
Rafi’s mellifluous voice to articulate the grief that the protagonist
experiences. Sahir’s lyrics express the dilemma of a man who questions not just
why love must end in heartbreak but the futility of life itself.
N – Nain lad jaihen
Ganga Jamuna (1961)
Music: Naushad
Lyrics: Shakeel
Badayuni
Picturised on:
Dilip Kumar
I’m cheating a little here; the song begins with Laaga gori guzariya se, but since the song itself is known as Nain lad jaihen toh, I bent my rules a little.
If you want sheer
happiness, this is the song you must listen to. Rafi infuses the Awadhi verses
with the exuberance of a man who has just discovered that the woman he loves reciprocates
his affection. It’s a cheerful, flirtatious folk song and Rafi sings it with cheerful
elan, while Dilip Kumar shakes a very graceful leg. Ganga Jamuna was one
of Naushad’s best scores in the 60s.
O – O jiya O jiya o jiya kuch bol do
Jab Pyar Kisi Se Hota Hai (1961)
Music:
Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Hasrat
Jaipuri
Picturised on:
Dev Anand
A man bent on
getting the girl he loves to admit she loves him; a girl who affects disdain
but secretly loves him. Add Rafi’s voice to the mix, and who can resist? Listen
to him enunciate:
Nazron se
jitne teer chale
Ho chalne do jigar par jhelenge
In pyaar ki ujli raahon par
Hum jaan ki baazi khelenge
Rafi could
sound carefree with the best of them.
P – Pipra ke
patwa mein
Godaan (1963)
Music: Ravi
Shankar
Lyrics: Anjaan
Picturised on: Mehmood
Pt. Ravi
Shankar aptly chose folk music to compose this lovely ballad of a man returning
home to his beloved. Anjaan’s lyrics in a regional dialect (Awadhi? Bhojpuri?)
reflect the young man’s rustic simplicity, while Rafi’s voice reflects the
quiet joy that is reflected both in the lyrics and on the young man’s (Mehmood)
face as he walks along to his village. Rafi sings with such gusto that it never
fails to make me smile. He exerts such control over his voice that, even
knowing he was a singer par excellence, one sits spellbound!
Q – Qismat
ka likha na tale
Parichay (1954)
Music: Sailesh
Mukherjee
Lyrics: Keshav
Trivedi
Picturised on: Abhi
Bhattacharya (?)
It’s sad that a
film directed by Satyen Bose should languish in obscurity; there’s not a single
video clip available anywhere. Parichay tackled the sensitive subject of
childlessness and the societal practice of blaming the woman, with less
melodrama than is usually the case. It also, unusually for the time, had a
sensible, realistic ending. Shailesh Mukherjee, the composer, is virtually unknown.
From what I can glean, he composed for a handful of films, and acted in a few
as well. This song, a plaintive melody that rails against the vagaries of cruel
fate, is rendered even more touching by the pathos in Rafi’s voice.