Recently,
Dustedoff posted a list of ‘Swimming Pool’ songs – songs that were filmed near,
or in a swimming pool, for the better part of it. In the comments, I mentioned
that I had a similar list which I’d been saving for when our summer begins.
(Anyone who wants to go swimming in an outdoor pool on the East Coast in April
had better have their brains checked.) I since dropped the idea, but this theme
is tangential to that one.
I
remember, when I was younger, the common perception was that when the
directors/producers wanted ‘sexy’ (just enough to escape the censors), they
would add in a ‘bathroom scene’. Was it really necessary to the plot? Not
usually. Those scenes were just included to titillate the audiences. (Malayalam
cinema of a certain period became infamous for such scenes, never mind that
many of these were incorporated into the films by distributors in other
states.)
This
was not limited to the Malayalam film industry. In an episode of Koffee with
Karan, veteran actresses Hema Malini and Zeenat Aman reminisced about shooting
films in their times. They talked about camera angles and how certain directors
would want them to expose more than was required for the scene or that the
actresses wanted to. The late Sridevi talked about wearing a couple of
petticoats under her saris when doing these (or even ‘rain’) scenes. It seems
like no heroine (and some heroes) ever escaped being drenched under some pretext
or the other. Quite typically, these scenes were also an excuse for a song
sequence.
So here are ten of my favourite ‘bathroom’ sequences from Hindi films
– well, some of my favourites anyway. (They’re clustered on the top.)
Anubhav
(1971) / Singer:
Geeta Dutt / Music:
Kanu Roy / Lyrics:
Gulzar
The
first of Basu Bhattacharya’s marital discord trilogy (the others being
Aavishkar (1973) and Grih Pravesh (1979), Anubhav has Tanuja playing Meeta, the
neglected wife of Amar (Sanjeev Kumar). In a bid to bring intimacy back into
their lives, Meeta gets rid of all the servants except an old retainer. She
takes charge of home and hearth, and in one happy moment, is seen in the
bathtub, humming, Mera dil jo mera hota…
the music is barely there, complementing Geeta Dutt’s voice which is front and
centre. The song sounds like one that someone would sing at home, with its
pauses and silences, and Gulzar’s lyrics were the icing. Think of lines like:
Barsa hai kayi barson
Aakaash samundar mein
Ik boond hai chanda ki
Utri na samundar mein
Do haathon ke okh mein ye
Gir padta toh kyaa hota
Haathon mein khuda hota
Aakaash samundar mein
Ik boond hai chanda ki
Utri na samundar mein
Do haathon ke okh mein ye
Gir padta toh kyaa hota
Haathon mein khuda hota
Trivia: From what I read once, most of the movie was shot in Tanuja’s flat.
Abhinetri
(1970) / Singer:
Lata Mangeshkar / Music:
Laxmikant-Pyarelal / Lyrics:
Majrooh Sultanpuri
This
one is both a ‘rain song’ as well as a bathroom song – it begins with the rain
pattering on the glass roof of Anjana’s (Hema Malini) porch. She then proceeds
to work out and then relax in a bathtub. (I am in awe of the fact that she can
exercise and sing, even while doing
backbends and crunches!) The bubble bath, of course, looks extremely welcoming,
though glass roofs and French windows in bathrooms should be banned on grounds
of good taste.
12 o’clock (1958) / Singer:
Mohammed Rafi / Music:
OP Nayyar / Lyrics:
Majrooh Sultanpuri
Living
in flats (apartments) has an advantage. Especially if you fall in love with the
girl (boy) who lives in the flat upstairs. So even with both of them having
baths (not together, of course!) she can still hear him sing: Dhun yahi jo rahi
pyaar ki
Ho rahegi meri woh kabhi
Mera dil thehar ja machal nahin
Main kho gaya yahin kahin
Ho rahegi meri woh kabhi
Mera dil thehar ja machal nahin
Main kho gaya yahin kahin
– and smile in reciprocal affection though she’s
not committing herself just yet. He’s really lost (kho gaya) though – you’ll
notice he’s towelling himself with the shower still on.
Pati
Patni aur Woh (1978) / Singer:
Mahendra Kapoor, Asha Bhosle / Music:
Ravindra Jain / Lyrics:
Anand Bakshi
Ever
shivered at the thought of taking a bath? Actually, just undressing yourself in
order to do so in freezing temperatures? I can empathise. The temperature
swings wildly between 15o C (at its highest) and about 2oC
– and this is April. In December-January, all bets are off as we go well before
zero. Of course, this is in Bombay, but the scene is so realistic, especially
if you have a child who decides that bathing with you is the highlight of his
day. But while father (Sanjeev Kumar) and son (Master Bittu) seem to be having
the time of their lives, with bucket and lota,
the wife is bothered about what the neighbours will think. (Which, if you know
flats in Bombay, is a given.)
Ab shor mat karo ji
Sunte hain sab padosi
Ho keh do padosiyon se
Kya?
Jhaanke na khidkiyon se…
If ever there was a defence of bathroom singing, this is it: 'Gaana aaye ya na aaye gaana chaahiye.' This was a total ‘time-pass’ song.
Ab shor mat karo ji
Sunte hain sab padosi
Ho keh do padosiyon se
Kya?
Jhaanke na khidkiyon se…
If ever there was a defence of bathroom singing, this is it: 'Gaana aaye ya na aaye gaana chaahiye.' This was a total ‘time-pass’ song.
Footpath
(1953) / Singer:
Asha Bhosle / Music:
Khayyam / Lyrics:
Majrooh Sultanpuri
The
young woman has just met the handsome young newspaperman and has quite lost her
heart to him. While he hands her a bouquet to hand to the woman she works for,
the words he says implies that he means them for her. Or so she infers. Stars
in her eyes, hope in her heart, she hurries home. As she steps in to the rustic
bathroom for her ablutions, she can’t help expressing her mixed feelings in
song.
Unse nazar kya mili
Khil gayi dil ki kali
Jhoom ke chhaayi bahaar
Phoot pada dil se pyaar
Khayyam’s first film as ‘Khayyam’ (he earlier composed as ‘Sharmaji’), this Asha Bhosle number is beautifully pictured on a very young and very pretty Meena Kumari.
Unse nazar kya mili
Khil gayi dil ki kali
Jhoom ke chhaayi bahaar
Phoot pada dil se pyaar
Khayyam’s first film as ‘Khayyam’ (he earlier composed as ‘Sharmaji’), this Asha Bhosle number is beautifully pictured on a very young and very pretty Meena Kumari.
Jhuk
Gaya Aasman (1968) / Singer:
Lata Mangeshkar / Music:
Shankar-Jaikishan / Lyrics:
Hasrat Jaipuri
In
this remake of Here Comes Mr Jordan, Rajendra Kumar plays Sanjay, a tourist
guide, who has fallen head over heels in love with Priya (Saira Banu), a member
of a group of young women who have come to visit Darjeeling. After a whole lot
of plot contrivances, Priya realises she loves him as well. And what better
than a relaxing bath to admit that to herself for the first time?
Paas na baithe pal bhar woh
Phir bhi ho gaya unse pyaar
Itni bas khabar ke mere hosh ud gaye
Paas na baithe pal bhar woh
Phir bhi ho gaya unse pyaar
Itni bas khabar ke mere hosh ud gaye
Jhoola
(1941) / Singer:
Ashok Kumar / Music:
Saraswati Devi / Lyrics:
Pradeep
The
precursor to the more popular version from Padosan (1968), the original is both
sung by, and picturised on Ashok Kumar. Having fallen in love with a photograph
on a magazine cover, Ramesh (Ashok Kumar) travels down to the village where the
young woman (Leela Chitnis) lives. Renting a room next to where she lives, he
begins to write love letters to her. Once, when she’s on the balcony of her
house, he rushes inside to compose a song about her. His charpai breaks but
he’s not ruffled. Until he decides he needs to have a bath. The cold water
makes him shiver, and so the song that was sung relatively melodiously until
now, becomes more of ‘gasping’ than singing.
8. Bhai battoor
Padosan
(1968) / Singer: Lata Mangeshkar / Music:
RD Burman / Lyrics:
Rajinder Krishan
Bhola
(Sunil Dutt) has had a fight with his uncle (Om Prakash) house due to a
misunderstanding. The uncle has been estranged from his wife (Dulari) for five
years, and Bhola assumes that his uncle is getting married again, and to a young
woman, at that. He decides to go live with his aunt, whom he loves. While
there, he discovers that the house opposite has new tenants – a couple and
their daughter. It doesn’t interest him until he hears singing from the neighbours’
– Bindu (Saira Banu) is always singing (according to his aunt). Right now, as
she bathes and dresses and prances around the room, she is definitely singing –
and Bhola is enjoying the entertainment.
Tarzan
Comes to Delhi (1965) / Singer:
Lata Mangeshkar / Music:
Dattaram / Lyrics:
Anand Bakshi
Another
one of the ‘bathe-and-dress-so-you-can-loll-on-the-bed’ songs, this one has Mumtaz
– in the days before she became a star to reckon with. She plays Rekha, the
daughter of a professor, who has been tricked by a big city fortune hunter into
leading him to the jungle so he can steal a valuable necklace from the tribal God.
Now, if Rekha cannot bring back the necklace, her father will be sacrificed by
the tribals. Helping her is (an Indian) Tarzan (Dara Singh), who travels back
with her to the city so he can help retrieve the sacred necklace. (Don’t ask.) While
Tarzan is busy rubbing shoulders with the astonished city folk, Rekha is busy
falling in love with him, and of course, showering with her sari on. (Out of
curiosity, how the heck did she manage to get out of a soaking wet blouse after
the shot was over?)
10.
Aaj koi aayega
Chanda
aur Bijli (1969) / Singer:
Asha Bhosle / Music:
Shankar-Jaikishan / Lyrics:
Indeewar
My
first thought upon seeing this song was that petty thievery in 60s Bombay must
have paid a lot for the gang to be able to live in such a mansion. My second
thought was ‘Heck, that bathroom is bigger than my whole flat in Bombay!’ And it’s pretty luxurious. And my third
was, who the heck rolls around on a bathroom floor? Never mind. Bijli (Padmini)
obviously didn’t. Ecstatic that her lover, Sheru (Sanjeev Kumar) is being
released from jail after a six-month sentence, Bijli decides to prettify
herself. Unfortunately for her, Bhagatram (Jeevan), the leader of the gang, has
designs upon her virtue, which she’s been continually defending with the dagger
hanging at her waist. Presently, however, he is being the creepy voyeur, eyeing
her through the slats of the Venetian doors of the bathroom. (Who on earth installs
slatted doors for a bathroom?) Unaware of his gaze – but why? He’s been spying
on her all these years; what makes her think he’s changed? – she’s happily showering
(or rolling on the floor), thinking of Sheru, and anticipating his return.
So…
bathroom singing at its best. And worst. What songs would you add?
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