My Favourites: Songs of 'Waking Dreams'

Here on the East Coast of the US, we are being pummelled by one storm after another. Recently, I’d posted a couple of photographs of being snowed in, and an acquaintance had remarked that snow and ice ‘must be very nice’. I remarked that it would be nice if I had Shammi Kapoor serenade me like he did Saira Banu in Junglee, but shovelling snow so you can get out of your house is not a very pleasurable activity. 

Imagination vs. Reality

Which led to a conversation about imagining Shammi beside me as I shovelled. Alas, despite my abiding love for masala films and my ability to suspend disbelief while watching said movies, my imagination doesn’t stretch that far. It never did. Not even when I was a lovelorn teen crushing on Amitabh Bachchan.

That said, imagination is a very powerful tool. It is what allows us to create worlds when we read a book, for instance. Or, unlike me, become so immersed in the world created by films that one imagines oneself replacing the characters on screen. And, very often, it is what helps people create practical inventions that alleviate the drudgery of our very ordinary lives. In our films, however, imagination is mostly limited to romance. 

Some time back, I wrote a post about the protagonists’ emotions being expressedon screen by others. This post is somewhat similar – the songs are being sung on screen by random performers. The difference between the posts lies in the protagonists’ actions; here, one or both of the protagonists imagine themselves in the performers’ shoes. Proving that our reel protagonists have more imagination than I do!
 
I must make it clear that these are not ‘dream sequences’ – song sequences where a character is actually asleep and dreaming. And perhaps entering a fantastic world with smoke and mirrors and grandiose sets (like, say, the double bill of Tere bina aag ye chaandni and Ghar aaya mera pardesi from Awara, or the many consequent dream sequences in Nagin). These are ‘imagined’ songs; songs where the lead characters are very much awake and aware of what is happening. They only imagine themselves in the place of the singers/performers. Or, in some cases, imagine their absent beloveds in front of them. So, 'imagined' songs, or more aptly, 'waking dream' ones.

Jahaan main jaati hoon wohi chale aate ho
Chori Chori (1956)
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar, Manna Dey
Music: Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Shailendra

This is one of the first songs that came to mind when I thought of this theme. Kammo has run away to marry a man (Pran) whom her father disapproves of. Raj is a journalist in search of a story. As their paths collide, Raj agrees to help her on her way if she will give him an exclusive. What neither of them bargains for is being attracted to each other. At one point on their road trip, they watch an itinerant puppet show, and Kammo, relaxing against a haystack, drifts away into an alternate reality – one where she and Raj take the place of the puppets. It helps her pose an all-important question, not to Raj but to herself:  Ye to bataao ke tum mere kaun ho? Who is Raj to her? As the song ends, she comes out of her reverie to sing that all-important line, when an amused Raj responds: Mujhse na poocho ke tum mere kaun ho... Does he realise that she's fallen in love with him?

Hum aap ki aankhon mein
Pyaasa (1957)
Singers; Mohammed Rafi, Geeta Dutt
Music: SD Burman
Lyrics: Sahir Ludhianvi

This is a very complex sequence, because it is an imagined song within a flashback to happier times. A time when Vijay and Meena were deeply in love. At a picnic with their friends, the happy couple slip away on their own. As she, obviously distraught, tries to talk to him, Vijay slips into his own world, where he is telling his beloved all that he will do for love of her -  what if he were to reside in her eyes? If he could place the flower of his love in her braids? If he troubled her dreams by his presence? If he swooned at her feet? And to all these ‘what ifs’, her response – even in his imagination – is playfully negative: what if she were to close her eyes? Shake her braids? Disturb his sleep so he couldn’t dream? Not bring him out of his swoon? On the face of it, a playful, romantic duet, but the song is a foreboding of what is to come. It ends with her disappearing behind the billowing curtains and the sequence segues into the scene where Meena writes to Vijay, breaking things off. In the present, as Vijay and Meena face off, the elevator opens, and they step out, only for her to exclaim, “But I wanted to go up!” Like Vijay, you’re struck by the unintended irony of that statement: even as a young woman, Meena had aspired to rise to the top.

Ik ghar banaaoonga
Tere Ghar ke Samne (1963)
Singer: Mohammed Rafi, Lata Mangeshkar
Music: SD Burman
Lyrics: Hasrat Jaipuri

In Ik ghar banaaoonga, the hero (Dev Anand) enjoying a drink at the club, imagines his beloved (Nutan) in his glass of whiskey, and begins to sing to her: if the world has to come to an end, it will; if he has to destroy himself, he will, but he will build a house in front of hers. And in this imagined scenario, she sings right back at him – it’s not an easy task to build a house! Sure it isn’t. Especially when her father wants him to build a house, and his father wants him to build one too – and both men, bitter rivals, have plots opposite each other, and both choose the same design. This is a delightful sequence because while he’s singing to his beloved (and even protects her from a thoughtlessly dropped ice cube), his audience, including his father and hers, thinks he’s completely drunk!

Shyamal shyamal baran
Navrang (1959)
Singer: Mahendra Kapoor
Music: C Ramchandra
Lyrics: Bharat Vyas

Diwakar (Mahipal) is a poet, deeply in love with his wife, Jamuna (Sandhya) who is frustrated by what she sees as his irresponsible ways. As their relationship unravels, Diwakar becomes even more obsessed with his muse, whom he has named ‘Mohini’. Though he tries to tell his wife that she's his muse, it is to no avail; she's too angry at what she sees as his infidelity to listen to him. But, for Diwakar, Jamuna is Mohini. And when he sees Jamuna going about her chores, he imagines her as Mohini, and it inspires him to write a poem praising her beauty.

Dhadakte dil ki tamanna ho
Shama (1961)
Singer: Suraiya
Music: Ghulam Mohammed
Lyrics: Kaifi Azmi

Parvez (Vijay Dutt), the scion of a wealthy family, is unaware that the orphaned Shama (Nimmi), living with his family, is secretly in love with him. Learning that he loves the beautiful Roshan Ara (Suraiya), Shama effaces herself. To encourage him in his endeavour to win Roshan Ara, she writes a ghazal that encapsulates all her feelings for Parvez. As he listens to her sing the couplets, Parvez imagines Roshan Ara singing them…

This is perhaps the only instance of Suraiya singing ‘playback’ for another actress, and it only occurred because Suman Kalyanpur couldn’t make the recording.

Mera dil ab tera o saajna
Dil Apna aur Preet Paraayi (1960)
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar
Music: Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Hasrat Jaipuri

As I said earlier, I’ve never imagined myself in my crush’s arms, let alone my favourite hero’s. But apparently, it’s more common than I thought. In any case, it’s a very common scenario in Hindi films. In fact, it’s a perfect excuse to allow the hero and heroine, whose characters are not normally given to singing at the drop of a hat, to be part of a song sequence. Here, Dr Sushil Varma (Raj Kumar), who had fallen in love with Karuna (Meena Kumari) is emotionally blackmailed by his mother into marrying Kusum (Nadira). Karuna is heartbroken. When the head of the department asks her if she is willing to go to an accident site far away, Karuna jumps at the chance to put some distance between her and the man she loves. What she doesn’t realise is that Dr Varma is being sent there too. On the way, the ambulance’s engine heats up, and they are forced to stop at a gypsy encampment. As he watches the villagers dancing, Dr Varma, whose marriage is a disaster, imagines what it might be like to be with the woman he really loves… A lovely, graceful Meena Kumari makes up for having to watch Raj Kumar ‘dance’.

Chali kaun se des
Boot Polish (1953)
Singers: Talat Mahmood, Asha Bhosl
Music: Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Shailendra

Unlike the other songs on this list, "Chali kaun se des" is heartwrenchingly realistic, and shorn of the usual trappings of wispy clouds and fantastic costumes. Bholu (Ratan Kumar) is separated from his sister, Belu (Baby Naaz), when he’s arrested. Upon his release, he searches for her in vain. One day, as he waits despondently by the roadside, he comes across a blind singer (Shailendra) and his little daughter, who dances to earn money. As the boy watches, the little girl in front of him is replaced with the image of his sister. 

Chaand aahein bharega
Phool Bane Angaarey (1963)
Singers: Mukesh
Music: Kalyanji-Anandji
Lyrics: Anand Bakshi

Captain Rajesh (Raj Kumar) falls in love with Usha (Mala Sinha) and one day, confesses his love to her. Usha is overjoyed. When he subsequently gives her a lift, Rajesh turns on the car radio while Usha falls into a daydream, complete with billowing clouds and fluttering curtains. [The director helpfully adds a spinning whorl to indicate it's a dream.] In her dream, Rajesh is singing to her. 

While the film was dedicated to the nation’s soldiers, the plot was a mess, unsure of whether to be a war movie or a family drama. In the end, it wasn’t either.

Jaaneman jaaneman tere do nayan
Chhoti si Baat (1976)
Singers: Kishore Kumar,
Music: Salil Choudhury
Lyrics: Yogesh

Arun (Amol Palekar) is a diffident young man who everyone takes advantage of. When he falls in love with Prabha (Vidya Sinha), it is difficult for him to overcome his shyness to even talk to her. When Prabha comes to his office, Arun is sure it is to complain about him. He’s relieved when it turns out that she’s come on official work. That breaks the ice between the two, but Arun is still not confident enough to reveal his feelings. Prabha, quietly relishing his discomfort, waits for him to make the first move. During this period, when Arun goes to watch a movie, he falls into a reverie, seeing himself and Prabha on screen in place of Dharmendra and Hema Malini.

Woh ladki hai kahaani
Dil Chahta Hai (2000)
Singers: Shaan, Kavita Krishnamoorthy
Music: Shankar Ehsaan Loy
Lyrics: Javed Akhtar

Sameer (Saif Ali Khan) baulks at the thought of an arranged marriage until he meets Pooja (Sonali Kulkarni). Initially, they agree that neither of them are interested in marriage, but soon Sameer finds himself falling head over heels in love with Pooja. When he finally confesses that he likes her, Pooja burst out laughing. Until they go on a movie date and see themselves as the protagonists on screen. The initial disbelief, the slow acceptance of their feelings, all end in their accepting what even they failed to realise were their true emotions. The song picturisation underlined the nostalgic feel of the song, with the old-world sets and retro costuming.

What are some of the other songs that you would add to this post?