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| 04.08.1929 - 13.10.1987 |
It seems appropriate that I end this month with my follow-up post on the Hindi music industry's eccentric genius. It's been a long, and forced, sabbatical from the blog for me; so, if it weren't for the fact that the more I read about Kishore Kumar, the more fascinated I became by the enigma he was, I would never have succumbed to blogging so soon.
Kishore Kumar was a paradox - he has been called a 'crackpot', a 'mad genius', 'stingy', 'avaricious', 'money-minded'. Yet, there are equally strong testimonials to his generosity, his open-handedness, and his affection overriding his need to be paid. He did however expect those who could afford it to pay him his dues, and part of his insistence on being paid before the shoot or the recording was precisely because they wouldn't do so.
Kishore Kumar was a paradox - he has been called a 'crackpot', a 'mad genius', 'stingy', 'avaricious', 'money-minded'. Yet, there are equally strong testimonials to his generosity, his open-handedness, and his affection overriding his need to be paid. He did however expect those who could afford it to pay him his dues, and part of his insistence on being paid before the shoot or the recording was precisely because they wouldn't do so.
In an interview after Kishore Kumar's death, his brother Ashok Kumar narrated an incident that happened on the sets of Bhai Bhai. Kishore had not been paid even though the shooting was almost over. When he refused to shoot his remaining scenes, the producer asked Ashok Kumar to convince Kishore to shoot. In deference to his elder brother's wishes, Kishore applied make-up. When the shoot began however, instead of walking from one door to another as the shot demanded, Kishore Kumar somersaulted once, saying 'Rs 5000'. Then he somersaulted again - 'Rs 10,000'. By the fourth somersault, he had reached the entrance, quickly stood up, and waved good-bye to everyone present. He knew he wasn't going to be paid that day.
Pritish Nandy, who was then the editor of the Times of India group, had a very close relationship with Kishore Kumar. On the occasion of the singer's 80th birth anniversary, Nandy wrote a moving, and very real, tribute to the man he called a 'genius'. In it, he vouches for the fact that Kishore's so called obsession with money was only his way of spoofing the industry's obsession with it. (You can read the entire article here.)
The paradoxes do not end there - Kishore was a man who became famous for his yodelling, and his comic roles; yet, if you looked at the films he directed, you saw a director with an eye for the unusual, and a composer of such subtle melodies as Aa chal ke tujhe and Koi humdum na raha. His sensitive handling of rather serious subjects saw him even direct a songless film (Door Wadiyon Mein Kahin).
In my earlier post on the much-misunderstood (and he worked to keep it that way) singer, I focused on his solo songs. In this, I reference a few of my favourite duets. As always, it is a very subjective list, and one that is subject to change depending on mood and occasion.
In my earlier post on the much-misunderstood (and he worked to keep it that way) singer, I focused on his solo songs. In this, I reference a few of my favourite duets. As always, it is a very subjective list, and one that is subject to change depending on mood and occasion.
1. Aa mohabbat ki basti basaayenge hum (with Lata Mangeshkar) Fareb (1953) Anil Biswas/Majrooh Sultanpuri
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| Courtesy: rediff.com |
This is one of the earliest Lata-Kishore duets, and one that is not usually heard. It has been a personal favourite for many years now.
Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar shared an endearing relationship; he was the elder by 20 days, and so she referred to him as 'Kishoreda'. She was his senior in the profession, so out of courtesy to her, he charged one rupee less than she did. Their meeting was the stuff of which films are made.
Lata Mangeshkar used to travel from Grant Road to Malad by train. One day, a young man got into the same compartment at Bombay Central, and got off at Malad with her. She used to either walk to Bombay Talkies or take a tonga; that day, she decided to do the latter. She was a bit flustered to see the young man follow her in another tonga right into the studio. She quickly went up to tell music director Khemchand Prakash about the lad; he looked up, and laughed. And the two were introduced. Kishore Kumar had already recorded Marne ki duaen kyun maangoon for Ziddi under Khemchand Prakash's baton; that day, he recorded his first ever duet with Lata Mangeshkar for the same film: Yeh kaun aaya re karke sola singar.
Lata and Kishore shared a mutual respect, affection and admiration; however, when he was awarded the Madhya Pradesh Government Cultural Award for Music (the first popular singer to be so honoured), he was aghast when, by the time he actually received the award, it had been renamed the Lata Mangeshkar Award.
Asha Bhosle probably sang the most duets with Kishore Kumar. She has often said how difficult it was to record a song with him because he kept everyone in splits. Finally, she would beg him, 'Kishoreda, if you don't stop making me laugh, I will not be able to sing.'
In an interview given a long time ago, Asha Bhosle had narrated how she struggled to find the right expression while singing the mukhda of this song. Burmanda told her to imagine her husband standing behind her, tugging at her sari. As they commenced the recording, suddenly, she was startled to find her pallu pulled. Spontaneously, she burst out, 'ah' but retained enough composure to continue with the line. When she turned around, she found Kishore Kumar grinning at her as the following lines, no whit discomposed by her reaction to his prank.
Listen to Asha Bhosle remembering certain incidents (it also helps that it is also one of my favourite Asha-Kishore duets) here.
3. Hey babu ye hai zamana tera (with Mohammed Rafi) Bhaagam Bhaag (1956) OP Nayyar/Majrooh Sultanpuri
As I mentioned before, it is strange
that the fans of Mohammed Rafi and Kishore Kumar are at loggerheads
when the two singers themselves got on like a house on fire. Not many
know that Mohammed Rafi sang for free for Kishore Kumar's directorial debut, or that Kishoreda himself considered Rafi a far better singer than himself. The warmth in their relationship was such that when Kishoreda's
songs were banned on the radio during the Emergency (he had a falling
out with Sanjay Gandhi because he had refused to sing for a Congress
rally), it was Mohammed Rafi, along with music director Kalyanji, who fought his cause at the Centre, even
offering to do stage shows for his colleague.
It was a friendship that only ended with Rafisaab's death. Kishoreda sat for hours, blank-faced and heartbroken at Rafisaab's funeral - soon thereafter, he was to pay rich tribute to his friend, competitor (never rival), and senior with She jano amar pashe ajo - a haunting Bengali number.
His first stage show after Mohammed Rafi's death was dedicated to his friend, and he began the programme with a sincere tribute. You can listen to the clip here.
In an interview with IBN Live,
Manna Dey narrated how the song came to be. When Manna Dey reached RD
Burman's music room to record the song, he was surprised that Kishore
Kumar was absent. Soon enough, he had a phone call from Kishore, asking
him to come home, because Kishore's mother had made luchchis, rosogollas and aloo dum especially for Manna Dey. So off they trooped from RD's house to Kishore's house so they could eat.
When it came to the recording, Manna Dey was reportedly upset that a classically trained singer like him had to lose, albeit on-screen, to an untrained singer like Kishore, but the unassuming man that he was, quietly did his best and left. In his autobiography, Memories Come Alive, Manna Dey had this to say: "(Kishore) ...had a unique and unaffected style of singing which tended to eclipse the subtleties of classical music and place his singing partner, in a duet, at a disadvantage... For the two of us, the session had taken the magnitude of a duel. It took us 12 hours to complete it, and I must admit, Kishore was in his element that day. Out of this tough battle to outshine one another, would emerge a new star in the world of music."
Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar shared an endearing relationship; he was the elder by 20 days, and so she referred to him as 'Kishoreda'. She was his senior in the profession, so out of courtesy to her, he charged one rupee less than she did. Their meeting was the stuff of which films are made.
Lata Mangeshkar used to travel from Grant Road to Malad by train. One day, a young man got into the same compartment at Bombay Central, and got off at Malad with her. She used to either walk to Bombay Talkies or take a tonga; that day, she decided to do the latter. She was a bit flustered to see the young man follow her in another tonga right into the studio. She quickly went up to tell music director Khemchand Prakash about the lad; he looked up, and laughed. And the two were introduced. Kishore Kumar had already recorded Marne ki duaen kyun maangoon for Ziddi under Khemchand Prakash's baton; that day, he recorded his first ever duet with Lata Mangeshkar for the same film: Yeh kaun aaya re karke sola singar.
Lata and Kishore shared a mutual respect, affection and admiration; however, when he was awarded the Madhya Pradesh Government Cultural Award for Music (the first popular singer to be so honoured), he was aghast when, by the time he actually received the award, it had been renamed the Lata Mangeshkar Award.
2. Chhod do aanchal zamana kya karega (with Asha Bhonsle) Paying Guest (1957) SD Burman/Majrooh Sultanpuri
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| Courtesy: last.fm |
In an interview given a long time ago, Asha Bhosle had narrated how she struggled to find the right expression while singing the mukhda of this song. Burmanda told her to imagine her husband standing behind her, tugging at her sari. As they commenced the recording, suddenly, she was startled to find her pallu pulled. Spontaneously, she burst out, 'ah' but retained enough composure to continue with the line. When she turned around, she found Kishore Kumar grinning at her as the following lines, no whit discomposed by her reaction to his prank.
Listen to Asha Bhosle remembering certain incidents (it also helps that it is also one of my favourite Asha-Kishore duets) here.
3. Hey babu ye hai zamana tera (with Mohammed Rafi) Bhaagam Bhaag (1956) OP Nayyar/Majrooh Sultanpuri
It was a friendship that only ended with Rafisaab's death. Kishoreda sat for hours, blank-faced and heartbroken at Rafisaab's funeral - soon thereafter, he was to pay rich tribute to his friend, competitor (never rival), and senior with She jano amar pashe ajo - a haunting Bengali number.
His first stage show after Mohammed Rafi's death was dedicated to his friend, and he began the programme with a sincere tribute. You can listen to the clip here.
4. Ek chatur naar karke singaar (with Manna Dey) Padosan (1968) RD Burman/Rajinder Krishen
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| Courtesy: Hamaraphotos.com |
When it came to the recording, Manna Dey was reportedly upset that a classically trained singer like him had to lose, albeit on-screen, to an untrained singer like Kishore, but the unassuming man that he was, quietly did his best and left. In his autobiography, Memories Come Alive, Manna Dey had this to say: "(Kishore) ...had a unique and unaffected style of singing which tended to eclipse the subtleties of classical music and place his singing partner, in a duet, at a disadvantage... For the two of us, the session had taken the magnitude of a duel. It took us 12 hours to complete it, and I must admit, Kishore was in his element that day. Out of this tough battle to outshine one another, would emerge a new star in the world of music."
5. Mere neendon mein tum (with Shamshad Begum) Naya Andaz (1956) OP Nayyar/Jaan Nisaar Akhtar
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| *Courtesy: Kishore-kumar.com |
Co-singer Shamshad Begum remembers Kishore Kumar with some fondness. As a young boy aspiring to become as famous as his much older brother who was already a name to reckon with in Hindi cinema, he would pester his senior with questions about his future. Did aapa (sister) think he would be popular one day? She replied, "Destiny is a great thing. Tomorrow you may be more popular than anyone else." And he was.*
6. De bhi chuke hum dil nazrana (with Geeta Dutt) Jaal (1952) SD Burman/ Sahir Ludhianvi
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| Courtesy: Geetadutt.com |
Equally memorable is an earlier number by the two of them, the pathos-ridden conversational O bewafa ye to bataa loota chaman kyun pyar ka from Pyar (1950), where the lyrics almost take on a reproachful tone, as each blames the other for the breakdown of the relationship. This song is unusual, in that Kishore is singing for Raj Kapoor, and it is one of the rare RK films (acted, produced or directed) that had SD Burman as the music director.
7. Aake seedhi lagi (with Kishore Kumar) Half Ticket (1962) Salil Choudhary/Shailendra
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| Courtesy: yoodle-yoo.com |
I know it is a comic song, but it is sheer genius. Salilda had never thought much of Kishore's singing skills and in fact, had to be coerced into allowing Kishore to sing for himself in Naukri (Hemant Kumar was originally supposed to sing Chotasa ghar hoga.) For Half-Ticket, the song was originally meant to be a duet with Lata Mangeshkar. She was away at the time of the recording, and Kishore Kumar begged to be allowed to sing both parts, arguing that he was playing the 'female' onscreen. Reluctantly, Salilda gave in, with one caveat - Kishore had to prove he could do it. Kishoreda promptly sang the song, switching between female and male voice with ease. The rest, as they say, is history. (The song was recorded in a single take.) You can hear Salilda talk about the making of the song - here (the first 30 seconds or so).
8. Haal chaal theek-thaak hai (with Mukesh) Mere Apne (1971) Salil Choudhary/Gulzar
This is beyond my usual period for songs - I tend to stick to the first three decades - but I love Salilda's score in this film. The sarcasm in Gulzar's lyrics, its lightness only underscoring the seriousness of the situation, the youthfulness of the score, and a fantastic jugalbandi between the singers makes this an unforgettable song, and quite one of my favourites.
9. Hum the woh thi (with SK Bhattacharya) Chalti ka Naam Gaadi (1958) SD Burman/Majrooh Sultanpuri
8. Haal chaal theek-thaak hai (with Mukesh) Mere Apne (1971) Salil Choudhary/Gulzar
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| Courtesy: hamaraforums.com |
9. Hum the woh thi (with SK Bhattacharya) Chalti ka Naam Gaadi (1958) SD Burman/Majrooh Sultanpuri
10. Yeh sama hum tum jawan (with Meena Kapoor) Mashuqa (1953) Roshan/Shailendra
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| Courtesy: singermukesh.com |
If I wanted, I could have come up with a favourite Asha-Kishore list, or a Lata-Kishore one. It takes me more time to decide what to drop than to decide what to include. In this case, I must say I also went for the rarer compositions in some cases; the reasons for my choices are not so much the popularity of the songs as what appealed to me at the moment I was writing this post. Like all my lists, they are not static choices, but change as and when the mood strikes.
Which songs would you add to my list? And why?
*The source for this quote is contradictory, and I explained why in my post on Shamshad Begum.
*I have endeavoured to give credit for the photographs I have sourced from the web, but have no way of knowing whether that is the original website or not. If not, and you know differently, please do drop me a line. I shall make the necessary corrections.
