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| Photo credit: Indianexpress.com |
Three years ago, I wrote an unexpected (and posthumous) tribute to Shammi Kapoor, a man who, in dark theatres and small television screens, had laughed and cried and danced and romanced various beautiful heroines across verdant hills and vales. He is the man who turned my wayward heart away from my first love, Amitabh Bachchan. (That was the slippery slope of cinematic infidelity, I'm afraid, since I fell for Raj Kapoor, Dilip Kumar and Dev Anand in quick succession after that. Not to mention Cary Grant, Gregory Peck and James Stewart.) His films were filled with an innocence, a zest for life, and a sense of fun. Whatever else he was, or wasn't, he thoroughly enjoyed being on screen. And that enjoyment seeped out of the screen, both big and small, and infected the audience. He changed the face of the Hindi film hero. He was a winsome brat, a macho rebel, a debonair, and swaggering, lover.
When you speak of Shammi Kapoor, music cannot be far behind. All his films had that in common - melodious songs that were loud and energetic, joyous and boisterous, soft and romantic... Few people know that Shammi Kapoor learnt classical music for five years. His brother, Raj Kapoor, had been learning music for a long time but once he began his film career, his shooting schedules left him no time to continue the lessons. Their mother promptly put Shammi Kapoor in his place, and Shammi became Pandit Jagannath Prasad's pupil. Later, as part of Prithvi Theatres, his music lessons continued.
His musical world expanded when he earned a gramophone - in lieu of a kiss. In his Shammi Kapoor Unplugged series, he mentions how, on the sets of Barsaat, Nargis had promised to kiss schoolboy Shammi if he would pray for her. (Nargis was keen on acting in Awara, but her family were against her continued relationship with Raj Kapoor.) By the time Awara rolled around, however, Shammi was a strapping young man, and when she saw him on the sets, she ran away and locked herself in her makeup room. Shammi, full of mischief, insisted on his reward. She offered him anything his heart desired, and the canny youth asked for a gramophone. Nargis promptly put him into her car, drove him to HMV House, and asked him to choose whichever one he wanted. Then, she took him to Rhythm House, and bought him twenty records of his choosing.
It was a turning point - from then on, every waking moment was spent immersed in music - Ramba, Samba, Western Classical, Gypsy Music, Jazz... It became an obsession that would be reflected in his films. He worked closely with the music directors and singers and musicians, and often sat in on recordings. He choreographed his own songs, his loose-limbed grace and innate sense of rhythm shaking every canon of 'dance' that Hindi films had hitherto seen on screen. And his obsession with music meant that, quite often, he often had an instrument with him.
It was a turning point - from then on, every waking moment was spent immersed in music - Ramba, Samba, Western Classical, Gypsy Music, Jazz... It became an obsession that would be reflected in his films. He worked closely with the music directors and singers and musicians, and often sat in on recordings. He choreographed his own songs, his loose-limbed grace and innate sense of rhythm shaking every canon of 'dance' that Hindi films had hitherto seen on screen. And his obsession with music meant that, quite often, he often had an instrument with him.
So as I was chronicling his songs and performances, the thought struck me that so many of the songs that I had chosen had him playing one instrument or another, or even multiple instruments in the same song. He looked very comfortable holding them, and extremely realistic playing them. (Shammi once said in an interview that at recordings with Shankar-Jaikishen, he would observe the musicians performing, and get (music director) Jaikishen, a close friend, to teach him the nuances of each instrument.)
And I began listing these songs. At the time, it was merely an academic exercise to satisfy my own curiosity - how many instruments did the man play on screen? Songs such as Baar baar dekho and Dil ke jharoke mein were easy choices. But as I continued to listen to his songs, the list began to grow longer and longer, and I began to see the seeds of a post.
So here, on what would have been his 83rd birthday, is the man and his music. Let's start with the easy ones:
1. Guitar
China Town (1962)
Singer: Mohammed Rafi
Music: Ravi
Music: Ravi
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
China Town is a film that had everything - a tight script, wonderful songs, excellent characterisations... there wasn't a wrong note in the film. It starred Shakila, and Helen (in a proper role). And two Shammi Kapoors, hereafter referred to as SK1 and SK2. Mike (SK1) is the suave and arrogant criminal residing in Calcutta's China Town. Shekhar (SK2 with a pencil-thin moustache), is a curly-haired singer who works at a restaurant in Darjeeling while waiting for his big break as a musician. And of course, as a singer and musician, he gets to sling around a guitar. Shakila plays his lady love, and one night, when she is visiting him at the hotel, Shekhar decides to serenade her with an open-declaration of love. Baar baar dekho is interesting because Shammi imbued Shekhar with such effeminacy - limp wrists, delicate head shakes, simpering mannerisms, et al. But oh, for a big man, he still moved with such grace.
2. Gopiyantra
2. Gopiyantra
Singers: Mohammed Rafi, Minoo Purushottam
Music: Ravi
Music: Ravi
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Now, I had no idea what this instrument was, though I had seen it (on screen) before. So, first, I needed to find out it was. And all hail the kampu-deivam, I found out that it is a 'gopiyantra'. Further digging gave me the information that the Gopiyantra belongs to the Iktara family, and is a very popular folk instrument played by the Bauls of Bengal. It is said to be the oldest string
instrument of India. Also known as the 'gopichand', the instrument is made of a drum that is open on top. A bamboo reed that is split almost three-quarters of the way is attached to both sides of the drum (which can be made of gourd, coconut, or hollowed wood). Fastened in between is one metal string that runs through the centre of the drum and is held in place by a piece of leather at the bottom of the drum. Compressing the reeds or pulling it apart allows the pitch to fluctuate.
This song situation comes a few scenes after he is shown strumming his guitar in the hotel's restaurant. Now, where he's hidden his guitar, and how he managed to lay his hands on a gopiyantra are questions that the film does not answer. Be that as it may, Shammi has a fine time strumming the instrument and pretending to be a mendicant. Of course, this being SK2 (see above), he manages to get caught.
3. Trumpet, Saxophone, Trombone
This song situation comes a few scenes after he is shown strumming his guitar in the hotel's restaurant. Now, where he's hidden his guitar, and how he managed to lay his hands on a gopiyantra are questions that the film does not answer. Be that as it may, Shammi has a fine time strumming the instrument and pretending to be a mendicant. Of course, this being SK2 (see above), he manages to get caught.
3. Trumpet, Saxophone, Trombone
Teesri Manzil (1966)
Singers: Mohammed Rafi, Asha Bhosle
Music: RD Burman
Music: RD Burman
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Shammi is Anil, alias Rocky, a musician in a hotel in Mussoorie. He's already run afoul of a very personable young woman, and now here she is, in the hotel. He also knows why she is there - to beat up Rocky, the drummer. In order to save himself, he cons her into believing that his friend (Salim Khan) is Rocky. But he has to sing, of course, because Ruby (Helen) refuses to dance if Rocky doesn't sing. So he pretends that he is singing only to do 'Rocky' a favour - the latter has ostensibly lost his voice.
And so begins O haseena zulfonwali, with the fake Rocky playing the drums, and Anil singing, and joining in the interludes with a whole host of instruments. Shammi actually does a good job of matching his playing with the actual sound of the instruments in the background. This song had a plethora of instruments - drums, violins, acoustic guitar amongst others, not limited to the ones that Shammi Kapoor played on screen. According to RD Burman - The Man, The Music (Anirudha Bhattacharya and Balaji Vittal), around eighty musicians were used for the song - close to forty of them were violins.
4. Piano
And so begins O haseena zulfonwali, with the fake Rocky playing the drums, and Anil singing, and joining in the interludes with a whole host of instruments. Shammi actually does a good job of matching his playing with the actual sound of the instruments in the background. This song had a plethora of instruments - drums, violins, acoustic guitar amongst others, not limited to the ones that Shammi Kapoor played on screen. According to RD Burman - The Man, The Music (Anirudha Bhattacharya and Balaji Vittal), around eighty musicians were used for the song - close to forty of them were violins.
4. Piano
Brahmachari (1968)
Singer: Mohammed Rafi
Music: Shankar-Jaikishen
Music: Shankar-Jaikishen
Lyrics: Hasrat Jaipuri
Musically, this is not one of SJ's best tunes - the antaras are far too repetitive for that, and I find the orchestration too rich and overwhelming. But Mohammed Rafi has sung it beautifully, Shammi emotes well, half grieving, half cynical, the picturisation is superb, and you have to watch it as contextual song to really appreciate it. (I must confess that I used to like this a lot more when I was younger.) This is one of the songs where he is playing the instrument right through. Funnily enough, when they show a close up of him playing the piano, he actually looks like he is pressing the right keys; but when they show him from the front, he looks like he's waving his arms around for no particular reason.
The context: He is in love with Rajshree; she used to love him, until Pran blackmails Shammi to pretend that he's cheating on her with Mumtaz and now Rajshree hates him. She is engaged to Pran (whom she came to find), and Shammi decides that his best option is to wish her well, while also slamming her for being unfaithful at the same time. (Typical Hindi film hero - first he 'sacrifices' his love, without telling the heroine anything; then he gets angry at her because she 'misunderstands'; then he sings a song in public bemoaning her infidelity, all the while pretending to wish her well.)
5. Piano Accordion, Piano
The context: He is in love with Rajshree; she used to love him, until Pran blackmails Shammi to pretend that he's cheating on her with Mumtaz and now Rajshree hates him. She is engaged to Pran (whom she came to find), and Shammi decides that his best option is to wish her well, while also slamming her for being unfaithful at the same time. (Typical Hindi film hero - first he 'sacrifices' his love, without telling the heroine anything; then he gets angry at her because she 'misunderstands'; then he sings a song in public bemoaning her infidelity, all the while pretending to wish her well.)
5. Piano Accordion, Piano
Brahmachari (1968)
Singers: Mohammed Rafi, Suman Kalyanpur
Music: Shankar-Jaikishen
Music: Shankar-Jaikishen
Lyrics: Shailendra
Now, this is my favourite song from the film. I fell in love with an effervescent Shammi shimmying as only he could, and with a young and beautiful Mumu sashaying on screen in a tight orange 'sari'. I can well imagine that this song must have been a craze when the film was first released. It is the polar opposite of the pathos-laden Dil ke jharoke mein that comes much later in the film. Rafi's voice ebbs and soars, and one can almost imagine him dancing as well as singing - you can hear the same joy in his voice that Shammi enacts onscreen.
Shammi begins the song with a turn on the piano accordion, and then, towards the end, executes a riff on the piano as well. In between, he jumped, he twirled, he fell to his knees, he matched Mumtaz step-for-step and between them, they gave us a song that was as much a joy to watch as it was to hear Rafi and Suman Kalyanpur sing it.
Trivia time: According to Mumtaz (an interview with the Times of India), she was madly in love with Shammi Kapoor during the making of this film. In fact, Shammi proposed to her, but she was only 18 at the time; he wanted her to give up films, she refused. Even more interestingly, this song was apparently composed for a Nasir Hussain film starring Dev Anand. (I wonder which one.) Dev Anand rejected it, and it was used with great effect in Brahmachari.
6. Drums
Now, this is my favourite song from the film. I fell in love with an effervescent Shammi shimmying as only he could, and with a young and beautiful Mumu sashaying on screen in a tight orange 'sari'. I can well imagine that this song must have been a craze when the film was first released. It is the polar opposite of the pathos-laden Dil ke jharoke mein that comes much later in the film. Rafi's voice ebbs and soars, and one can almost imagine him dancing as well as singing - you can hear the same joy in his voice that Shammi enacts onscreen.
Shammi begins the song with a turn on the piano accordion, and then, towards the end, executes a riff on the piano as well. In between, he jumped, he twirled, he fell to his knees, he matched Mumtaz step-for-step and between them, they gave us a song that was as much a joy to watch as it was to hear Rafi and Suman Kalyanpur sing it.
Trivia time: According to Mumtaz (an interview with the Times of India), she was madly in love with Shammi Kapoor during the making of this film. In fact, Shammi proposed to her, but she was only 18 at the time; he wanted her to give up films, she refused. Even more interestingly, this song was apparently composed for a Nasir Hussain film starring Dev Anand. (I wonder which one.) Dev Anand rejected it, and it was used with great effect in Brahmachari.
6. Drums
Dil Deke Dekho (1959)
Singer: Mohammed Rafi
Music: Usha Khanna
Music: Usha Khanna
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Dil Deke Dekho, coming soon after Tumsa Nahin Dekha, consolidated Shammi Kapoor's position as the rebel star. Once again, Shammi is a musician (he played that role quite a few times in his career), and here, instead of a guitar or a piano, he has the drums. Dil Deke Dekho had lovely songs, though one was a straight lift (Dilruba meri Neeta was a blatant copy of Paul Anke's Diana) and the title song Dil deke dekho was 'inspired' from Sugar in the morning by the McGuire sisters. Rafi sings it with the verve and enthusiasm that a 'Shammi Kapoor song' deserved. As Shammi often said, Rafi always added an 'extra something' when he sang for Shammi Kapoor.
Unlike Bolo bolo from the same film where Shammi Kapoor only plays the prelude to the song, and then gets up to dance, here, he stays put for the whole song. He's the only hero I know who looks like he's dancing even when he's sitting down. In fact, I'm surprised he could bear to sit down for that length of time. There's an inherent air of barely leashed power in the man.
7. Violin, Saxophone, Piano
Dil Deke Dekho, coming soon after Tumsa Nahin Dekha, consolidated Shammi Kapoor's position as the rebel star. Once again, Shammi is a musician (he played that role quite a few times in his career), and here, instead of a guitar or a piano, he has the drums. Dil Deke Dekho had lovely songs, though one was a straight lift (Dilruba meri Neeta was a blatant copy of Paul Anke's Diana) and the title song Dil deke dekho was 'inspired' from Sugar in the morning by the McGuire sisters. Rafi sings it with the verve and enthusiasm that a 'Shammi Kapoor song' deserved. As Shammi often said, Rafi always added an 'extra something' when he sang for Shammi Kapoor.
Unlike Bolo bolo from the same film where Shammi Kapoor only plays the prelude to the song, and then gets up to dance, here, he stays put for the whole song. He's the only hero I know who looks like he's dancing even when he's sitting down. In fact, I'm surprised he could bear to sit down for that length of time. There's an inherent air of barely leashed power in the man.
7. Violin, Saxophone, Piano
Pagla Kahin Ka (1970)
Singer: Asha Bhosle
Music: Shankar-Jaikishen
Music: Shankar-Jaikishen
Lyrics: Hasrat Jaipuri
This is not a Shammi Kapoor song, actually. In fact, he doesn't even appear until after the song is done. A musician in a nightclub, he is found guilty of a murder that he had not committed, and confined to a mental asylum because his lawyer pleads insanity as his defence. When he comes back a year later, it is to find his beloved married to his best friend. Hurt and betrayed, he wishes them well, and then, his emotions overflow in music as he plays first the violin, then the saxophone, and finishes off with a rousing finale on the piano - just as he truly loses his mind.
Watch him when he is playing the sax - you can almost believe that he is playing it himself, each breath that he takes synchronising with the way the notes are actually played.
8. Mandolin
This is not a Shammi Kapoor song, actually. In fact, he doesn't even appear until after the song is done. A musician in a nightclub, he is found guilty of a murder that he had not committed, and confined to a mental asylum because his lawyer pleads insanity as his defence. When he comes back a year later, it is to find his beloved married to his best friend. Hurt and betrayed, he wishes them well, and then, his emotions overflow in music as he plays first the violin, then the saxophone, and finishes off with a rousing finale on the piano - just as he truly loses his mind.
Watch him when he is playing the sax - you can almost believe that he is playing it himself, each breath that he takes synchronising with the way the notes are actually played.
8. Mandolin
Hum Sab Chor Hain (1956)
Singer: Mohammed Rafi
Music: OP Nayyar
Music: OP Nayyar
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
This is a film I would dearly love to watch again; I watched it in bits and pieces with no songs at all. So it was wonderful when I came across this song. Not only because it had Shammi play (or pretend-play) the harmonium and the mandolin, but because the sequence itself is such fun.
Now, not having watched this in the context of the film, I have no clue when this appears in the film. But Nath (Shammi) is trying his best to impress Vimala (Nalini Jaywant). He is a theatre manager, she is hoping to be the lead actress. But since he cannot sing or play any instrument, his assistant manager (Ram Avatar) is doing both from behind the door, and later, from under and behind stage props. So Nath begins by pretending to play the harmonium when he realises that the instrument being played is actually a mandolin. And he lip-syncs to the song. Of course, Vimala is rather smart and realises that song is coming from behind the tree-trunk that is hopping about her, and later, the stuffed bear she is sitting on. But Nath continues to strum the mandolin with abandon.
9. Ravanahatha*
This is a film I would dearly love to watch again; I watched it in bits and pieces with no songs at all. So it was wonderful when I came across this song. Not only because it had Shammi play (or pretend-play) the harmonium and the mandolin, but because the sequence itself is such fun.
Now, not having watched this in the context of the film, I have no clue when this appears in the film. But Nath (Shammi) is trying his best to impress Vimala (Nalini Jaywant). He is a theatre manager, she is hoping to be the lead actress. But since he cannot sing or play any instrument, his assistant manager (Ram Avatar) is doing both from behind the door, and later, from under and behind stage props. So Nath begins by pretending to play the harmonium when he realises that the instrument being played is actually a mandolin. And he lip-syncs to the song. Of course, Vimala is rather smart and realises that song is coming from behind the tree-trunk that is hopping about her, and later, the stuffed bear she is sitting on. But Nath continues to strum the mandolin with abandon.
9. Ravanahatha*
Bluffmaster (1963)
Singers: Mohammed Rafi, Lata Mangeshkar
Music: Kalyanji-Anandji
Lyrics: Rajinder Krishan
Music: Kalyanji-Anandji
Lyrics: Rajinder Krishan
Bluffmaster may not have been a great film, but like most of Shammi's films, it were watchable. And equally certainly, like all of Shammi's films, they had decent songs. (No, not 'great', but definitely pleasant enough.) For a change, instead of a guitar or a piano or another western instrument, Shammi gets down to the basics - a simple ravanahatha, that he poaches off an itinerant seller of these musical instruments (while Saira makes off with her entire basket) to serenade Saira. Vintage Shammi, with Rafi (as usual) providing vocal support. Lata joins in on Saira's behalf, and we have a lilting melody which ends with Pran being made to look like a fool. (What's new, you ask?) The ravanahatha interlude is rather short, but Shammi manages to infuse even that with grace.
*I learnt the name of this instrument from Dustedoff's post on stringed instruments.
10. Harmonica
Kisi na kisi se kabhi na kabhi
Kashmir ki Kali (1964)
Singer: Mohammed Rafi
Music: OP Nayyar
Lyrics: SH Bihari
The song begins with a musical interlude, and then Shammi proceeds to 'play' the mouth organ. ('Play' in quotes because while the song does begin with a mouth organ interlude, Shammi is not shown playing it then. By the time Shammi is shown playing the instrument, there are a host of other musical instruments joining in.) But he does play the harmonica like he knows how to. (Unlike Amitabh in Sholay.) However, I would advise anybody watching the film not to drive (or not drive) a car the way Shammi did. Apart from having the car begin going down the slope on its own while he danced by its side, he also swerves from side to side while playing the harmonica. Someone forgot to warn him that driving with one hand while traversing mountain roads is a recipe for disaster.
11. Swarmandal
Unfortunately, this film came along when Rajesh Khanna had already been ushered in on a tidal wave of change; Shammi's expanding girth was not helping either. Paired with a much younger Leena Chandravarkar, this was one of the films whose box-office success, or lack thereof, made Shammi realise that it was better to quit playing 'hero'. But in any case, failure or not, the film gave me the opportunity to see Shammi Kapoor in disguise, pretending to be a musician, and handling the swarmandal quite competently. Instead of Mohammed Rafi, he has Manna Dey providing playback. Trained as he was in classical music, it was easy enough for Shammi to portray a classical musician with a certain amount of verisimilitude. He does rather a good job with the adas and harkats that Manna Dey conveyed with his voice, all the while strumming the swarmandal with almost unconscious ease.
Nine films, eleven songs. And there are other songs where he played instruments for a short while - like the traditional drum in Govinda aala re (Bluff Master) or the harmonium in Socha tha pyar hum na karenge in the same film.
Researching this post gave me a very interesting view of a
man who seemed to have music and rhythm running in his veins. And as an added bonus, I found this. Yes, I knew he was a trained singer, and I knew he was obsessed with music, but this little snippet was a revelation. If he could sing like this (and a Sajjad Hussain composition at that!) at the age he was when he recorded this series, I wish, I really wish, he had sung earlier when his voice was younger, and more vibrant. (He apparently did sing a few lines for himself in his first film, Jeevan Jyoti.)
The whole series, Shammi Kapoor Unplugged, is an interesting window into the life of the man who strode flamboyantly into the cinematic arena, and lived life king size. He narrates his reminiscences with such charm (and roguishness) that it is impossible not to smile, if not laugh outright at the episodes. If you have the time, do go through the series. They are each about 5-6 minutes long. I guarantee they will chase away the blues.
Have you seen him play any other instrument? In which song, or scene? Feel free to add to this list in the comments.
*I learnt the name of this instrument from Dustedoff's post on stringed instruments.
10. Harmonica
Kashmir ki Kali (1964)
Singer: Mohammed Rafi
Music: OP Nayyar
Lyrics: SH Bihari
The song begins with a musical interlude, and then Shammi proceeds to 'play' the mouth organ. ('Play' in quotes because while the song does begin with a mouth organ interlude, Shammi is not shown playing it then. By the time Shammi is shown playing the instrument, there are a host of other musical instruments joining in.) But he does play the harmonica like he knows how to. (Unlike Amitabh in Sholay.) However, I would advise anybody watching the film not to drive (or not drive) a car the way Shammi did. Apart from having the car begin going down the slope on its own while he danced by its side, he also swerves from side to side while playing the harmonica. Someone forgot to warn him that driving with one hand while traversing mountain roads is a recipe for disaster.
11. Swarmandal
Jaane Anjaane (1971)
Singer: Manna Dey
Music: Shankar-Jaikishen
Music: Shankar-Jaikishen
Lyrics: SH Bihari
This was another instrument that I had trouble identifying. While I had heard of the 'swarmandal',
I had never seen one, and indeed, had no clue what it looked like. So
you can imagine how tough it was to find out what the instrument in the
scene was! Once I identified the instrument, Wikipedia informed me that
it was the Indian zither, and that it was used quite extensively in
Hindustani classical music. Apparently, legendary artistes like Pandit
Jasraj, Kishori Amonkar and Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan have used it
extensively. Shammi Kapoor has certainly increased my knowledge today! Unfortunately, this film came along when Rajesh Khanna had already been ushered in on a tidal wave of change; Shammi's expanding girth was not helping either. Paired with a much younger Leena Chandravarkar, this was one of the films whose box-office success, or lack thereof, made Shammi realise that it was better to quit playing 'hero'. But in any case, failure or not, the film gave me the opportunity to see Shammi Kapoor in disguise, pretending to be a musician, and handling the swarmandal quite competently. Instead of Mohammed Rafi, he has Manna Dey providing playback. Trained as he was in classical music, it was easy enough for Shammi to portray a classical musician with a certain amount of verisimilitude. He does rather a good job with the adas and harkats that Manna Dey conveyed with his voice, all the while strumming the swarmandal with almost unconscious ease.
Nine films, eleven songs. And there are other songs where he played instruments for a short while - like the traditional drum in Govinda aala re (Bluff Master) or the harmonium in Socha tha pyar hum na karenge in the same film.
The whole series, Shammi Kapoor Unplugged, is an interesting window into the life of the man who strode flamboyantly into the cinematic arena, and lived life king size. He narrates his reminiscences with such charm (and roguishness) that it is impossible not to smile, if not laugh outright at the episodes. If you have the time, do go through the series. They are each about 5-6 minutes long. I guarantee they will chase away the blues.
Have you seen him play any other instrument? In which song, or scene? Feel free to add to this list in the comments.
