Word Play: Chand

I was driving my son back from his ballet class on Monday when, just as I was about to turn the corner to our home, he exclaimed excitedly from the back seat. I stopped the car on the slope so we could both enjoy the glimpse of the golden orb that looked like it was hanging between the trees. It was a glorious sight. 

And that brought me to my sorely neglected blog. The last few months have been stressful, for various reasons, and the blog has suffered as a result. Never mind. That can always be changed. 'Word Play' is not a new category for my readers, but it has been woefully under-represented. In the two years that I have been consistently blogging, I have only written two posts under this category. So this seems the perfect time to make amends. Interestingly enough, this word links to my earlier posts - Raat and Piya.  

Raat, Piya, Chand - they are inextricably bound to each other. Not just in our films, but in literature as well, the moon is often a witness to love and its myriad endings. Think of the importance of the moon in the scene where Pyramus and Thisbe meet, in the play-within-a-play in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.  And so, today's word: Chand. (And perhaps it is because the word is 'Chand'  that I found that the underlying theme of all songs, whether happy or sad, is love.)

As always, this category has its own rules. Unlike the My Favourites series, where the selection of songs is made by theme, or singer, Word Play cuts across themes, settings, even genres most times. It has only two conditions: a) that the mukhda of the song begins with the chosen word (or, it is at least the second word in the first line). Preludes, of course do not count. b) The word itself, not its variations - Chand, not Chanda, for instance. (That condition effectively removed one of my favourite C Ramchandra compositions from Parchaain.) 

While I had a list in place (I always have many lists in place!) I have listened to some lovely songs these past two days in an attempt to whittle my choices down to the final ten. That was a mistake, since I ended up with more songs than I had, originally. Eventually, after a lot of mental calisthenics over which song to keep and which to drop, I eventually (with a deep sigh for all those songs that I couldn't accommodate in the list) came up with the songs below as my final choice. 

Since it was the sight of the full moon in all its golden glory that facilitated this post, let me begin with: 

1. Chand zard zard hain (Jaali Note/1960) Asha Bhosle - Mohammed Rafi / OP Nayyar / Anjaan)

I usually avoid this adjective, but 'sweet' is the only way to describe this song. This is not as well-known as the other songs from Jaali Note, but OP Nayyar allows the vocals centre stage, even as he fills the void with some tuneful whistling, and wonderful trumpet set pieces. My husband is sure that the trumpet was played by Anthony Peter Monsorate because of the way it sounds (Yes, he usually picks up the instrumentalists by the way they play, and what is more, he is usually right!) but the person on screen is choreographer Surya Kumar - as identified by Tom Daniels in the comments on Dustedoff's blog. 

The picturisation is sweet as well - Dev Anand singing over the telephone to Madhubala - just watch her expression after he sings 'Mere dil mein pyar ka halka halka dard hain'; she looks like she is going to swoon. (I nearly did!) A very soft, romantic number that talks of the wonder of that love: Tere pyar pyar hai ke khwaab hai? Lovely!

2. Chand jaane kahan kho gaya (Main Chhup Rahoongi/1962) Mohammed Rafi - Lata Mangeshkar / Chitragupt / Rajinder Krishen

 

Here, the hero (Sunil Dutt) wonders where the moon has vanished to; perhaps his beloved shouldn't have unveiled her face. (The comparison of a woman's beauty to that of the moon is one of the most beloved tropes of literature and poetry.) She (Meena Kumari), not to be undone, claims that perhaps he shouldn't have smiled; the moonlight pales in comparison. And indeed, so much in love are they, that it doesn't seem overboard. There is an innocence there that admits to being starry eyed because of the magic of love - Aankh taare jhapakne lage, aisi ulfat ka jaadu jagaana na tha...

Interestingly, Chand jaane kahan kho gaya mimics the mukhda of Aaj mausam ki masti mein gaaye pawan from Benarasi Thug, which is similar in tune to Ek chameli ke mandve tale from Cha Cha Cha (both composed by Iqbal Quereshi.) The mystery of who 'inspired' whom deepens when you consider that Benarasi Thug and Main Chhup Rahoongi were both released in 1962. (Cha Cha Cha was released in 1964.) So did Chitragupt find inspiration in Iqbal Quereshi's composition, or was it vice versa? Or were both composers inspired by a composition that was even older? 

3. Chand jahaan woh jaaye (Sharda/1957) Lata Mangeshkar - Asha Bhosle / C Ramchandra / Rajinder Krishen

The moon as a messenger is another plot device used extensively in literature. While one maiden is exhorting the moon to be a constant companion to her beloved and to illuminate his path, the other is pleading with the moon to tell her beloved how difficult she finds life in his absence.

And so, one (Meena Kumari) shows concern -  it is his first journey and he is ignorant of the place and its patterns of behaviour... Pardes mein raahi ko manzil ka pataa dena, Hai pehla safar unka aur reet hain anjaana... she doesn't want the moon to say anything to her beloved, just bring her back news of him.  

The other (Shyama) is pining away for her beloved. She wants the moon to tell him just how much she misses him and... Ek dard ke maare ko achcha nahin tadpaana...

Two very different messages, and two very different ways of loving...

4. Chand raat tum ho saath (Half Ticket/1962) Kishore Kumar - Lata Mangeshkar / Salil Choudhary / Shailendra)

Now here is a song with a difference! The presence of the moon has evidently not softened the woman's heart. While he insists that the night, the moon and her presence is enough to make his heart beat faster, she scoffs that it is only a heart, who is to say that it will not change its tune on the morrow? A comical conversational set piece, it consists of him (Kishore Kumar) continuously offering his love, and she, equally constantly, disposing of his arguments. And so, while he sings Zulmi nazar, kaisi nidar, dil chura liya... she claims:

Ye bhi koi dil hai kya, jahaan mauqa mila, phisal phisal gaya... 

He is bent on convincing her, even pleading: Behke kadam, ab to sanam, baah thaam lo, she brushes him off: Apni nazar, apni nigaahon se kaam lo. Finally, she begs him: Suniye zara, maine kaha mat sataaiye and he replies: Ye woh raahein nahin, jispe chalke koi sambhal sambhal gaya...

Obviously, taking 'no' for an answer is not in the Hindi film hero's lexicon, but here, she is so busy smiling her effervescent smile at him, and linking hands to dance around trees with him on a moonlit night, that one can scarcely blame the fellow for thinking he can change her mind.

5. Chand bhi koi deewana hai (Apna Ghar Apni Kahani/1968) Asha Bhosle - Mahendra Kapoor / N Dutta / Qamar Jalalabadi

 

A moonlit night, a boat ride on a gently flowing river, time spent with someone you love very much... what is not to like, especially when the picturisation includes a very young and very pretty Mumtaz, who is quite the house favourite. (My husband concurs vehemently!) This is one of the songs that I first heard when I was researching songs for this post, and quickly became a favourite. A very soft, romantic number, with Asha's silken vocals, and Mahendra Kapoor dialling down his timbre by a notch, this is probably the only song where they compare the moon to themselves. She sings... Ye bhi hain, hum sa hain awaara, Raat bhar phirta hai maara maara...

6. Chand aahein bharega (Phool Bane Angare/1963) Mukesh / Kalyanji-Anandji / Anand Bakshi

 

A drive in a car with someone you love, a soft romantic number playing on the radio (and being hummed by the hero, once in a while), and what can a woman do, but be lost in a dream? Especially when the song says: Chup na hogi hawa bhi, kuch kahegi ghata bhi, Aur mumkin hai tera zikr kar de khuda bhi... and Teri khatir farishte sar pe ilzam lenge, Husn ki baat chali toh sab tera naam lenge... 

The dream sequence was a pain, though; it would have been far more interesting to see the interaction between the two people - who, though evidently attracted to each other, haven't still confessed their love - as they listen to the song.

7.  Chand ghatne laga (Shart/1954) Geeta Dutt / Hemant Kumar / SH Bihari

Picturised on a very young (and very pretty) Shashikala, this peppy Geeta Dutt number is a sheer joy to listen to. A club number, it nevertheless talks of love and her heart's desires, and how it is unaffected by the waning of the moon and the passing of the night... Chand ghatne laga, raat dhalne lagi, Aarzoo mere dil ki machalne lagi... she exhorts her listeners: Meri nindiya se bojhal ye akhiyaan kahein, Zara paas baitho, kuch kahein kuch sunein...

Do listen; it will get your feet a-tapping... 

8. Woh chand khila (Anari/1959) Lata Mangeshkar / Shankar-Jaikishen /Shailendra

This is when I thank my stars that I put in the clause that the chosen word could appear second in the first line... 

One of my favourite romantic numbers, I love the playfulness that Nutan depicts on screen. Both Raj Kapoor and Nutan shared a comfort level that was evident in their on-screen chemistry. Here, she is the one who is flirting with him, dropping broad hints which, as she says Samajhnewale samajh gaye hai, na samjhe, na samjhe woh anari hain! She has fallen in love with him much before, and according to the social norms of the day, it wasn't the 'done thing' for a woman to tell a man that she loved him. So what else can she do but drop hints? So she is stuck to singing Baaje dil ke taar gaaye ye bahaar, Ubhre hai pyaar jeevan mein and Chanda ki chaal mastani hai paagal jispe raat ki raani, Taaron ka jaal le le dil nikaal, poocho na haal mere dil ka...  

Na samjhe woh anari hai, indeed!!

9. Chand phir nikla (Paying Guest/1957) Lata Mangeshkar / SD Burman / Majrooh Sultanpuri

Nutan again, but this time, she is bereft. The moon has risen again, but her beloved has not come to her. The waiting is torture, and even the coolness of the spring breezes is not enough to assuage her searing agony - Ye jaanta hai dil ke tum nahin mere...

She has loved, and it seems, lost. Her lover is now besotted with someone else. What is she to do when she cannot forget him? Sulagte seene se dhuaan sa ut-tha hai, Lo ab chale aao ke dam ghut-tha hai, Jalaa gaye tan ko bahaaron ke saaye, Main kya karoon haaye ke tum yaad aaye... A lovely SD Burman composition, rendered by Nutan, of whom Lata Mangeshkar once said she was the only heroine who looked like she was singing the song on screen.   

10. Chand madham hai (Railway Platform/1955) Lata Mangeshkar / Madan Mohan / Sahir Ludhianvi

This last song is a plaint as well. Chand madham hai was originally a nazm titled Intezaar (Waiting). Sahir Ludhianvi used it in the film where the heroine's anguish - Dil mein nakaam hasratein lekar, hum tera intezaar karte hain - was brought to life beautifully by Madan Mohan's melody and Lata's voice. Her beloved is not too far away, physically, but he has lost his way, and she begs him to come back... In bahaaron ke saaye mein aa jaa, phir muhabbat jawaan rahe na rahe, Zindagi tere naamuraadon par kal talak meharbaan rahe na rahe... 

Her plaint is piteous indeed as she waits, and waits...and her tired eyes beg for one night's sleep...Aa tere gham mein, jaagti aankhen, kam-se-kam ek raat so jaaye... 

To mix up my metaphors a little, this is just the tip of the iceberg. The moon is an important part of being in love, and I'm sure there are far more songs waiting to be discovered. Why don't you tell me what your favourite songs are? Just remember, no variations, and the word has be the first or the second in the first line of the mukhda.