...a tribute to the sadly & badly-missed Jagjit Singh-Ji!!!

abhi mujh mein kahin..."khushiyaan choom loon, ya ro loon zara...mar jaaun, ya jee loon zara!"...I just love this beautiful song soooooo-very much indeed!!! film: angneepath singer: sonu nigam

 ~~~~~~~~ LYRICS~~~~~~
Abhi mujh mein kahin
Baaqi thodi si hai zindagi
Jagi dhadkan nayi
Jaana zinda hoon main toh abhi
Kuch aisi lagan iss lamhe mein hai
Ye lamha kahaan tha mera
Ab hai saamne
Issey chhoo loon zaraa
Mar jaaoon ya jee loon zaraa
Khushiyaan choom loon
Yaa ro loo'n :'( zaraa
Mar jaaoon ya jee loon zaraa

Ho o.. abhi mujh mein kahin
Baaqi thodi si hai zindagi

Ho.. dhoop mein jalte huey tann ko, chhaya perh ki mill gayee
Roothe bachche ki hansi jaise, phuslaane se phir khill gayee
Kuchh aisa hi abb mehsoos dil ko ho rahaa hai
Barso'n ke puraane zakhm pe marham laga saa hai
Kuch ehsaar hai, iss lamhe mein hai
Ye lamha kahaan tha mera
Ab hai saamne
Issey chhoo loon zara
Mar jaaoon ya jee loon zara
Khushiyaan choom loon
Yaa ro loo'n zaraa
Mar jaaoo'n yaa jee loon zaraa
Dor se tooti patang jaisi, thi ye zindagani meri
Aaj ho kal ho mera naa ho
Har din thi kahani meri
Ik bandhan naya peechhe se abb mujhko bulaaye
Aane waley kal ki kyun fikar mujhko sata jaaye
Ik aisi chubhan iss lamhe me hai
Ye lamha kahaan tha mera aa
Ab hai saamne
Issey chhoo loon zara
Mar jaaoo'n ya jee loon zara
Khushiyaan choom loon
Yaa ro loo'n zaraa
Mar jaaoo'n ya jee loon zara

 

hindi film ghazals

Tadbeer se bigdi hui taqdeer bana le, from Baazi (1951) – a song which is, in my opinion, a good example of what a ghazal is and isn’t. No, it’s not defined by its music – so, it needn’t be slow and soulful; it can be fast-paced and peppy. What does define a ghazal are its lyrics: rather, its structure and its rhyme scheme.

I don’t pretend when I say...I know very-little at this present time about ghazals...just a great desire and thirst to get into this beautiful poetry set to music, and to immerse myself in its intoxicating words, body and soul. But, to learn more about exactly what a ghazal is (and isn’t) have a look at this interesting page.

Ghazals (in no particular order) from pre-70s Hindi cinema. All are from films, and no two ghazals are from the same film.

Aah ko chaahiye ek umr asar hone tak (Mirza Ghalib, 1954): Mirza Ghalib was the reason to put in that condition about not including more than one song from a film. This film – which showcased the brilliant shaayari of the legendary Asad’ullah Khan ‘Ghalib’ – had a series of simply awesome ghazals, including Nuktacheen hai gham-e-dil and Yeh na thhi hamaari kismet.
Aah ko chaahiye is probably favourite, though, simply because everything – Ghulam Mohammad’s music, Suraiya’s superb rendition, and Ghalib’s poetry – fits together perfectly. Even just the very first line – Aah ko chaahiye ek umr asar hone tak (“A sigh needs a lifetime to take effect”) – is so rich in meaning.

Rehte thhe kabhi jinke dil mein (Mamta, 1966): Some of the best ghazals, sadly, are sad. This one, written by Majrooh Sultanpuri, is a classic example of an outcry against betrayal. That “Barson ke sulagte tan-man par ashqon ke toh chheente de na sake, tapte hue dil ke zakhmon par barse bhi toh angaaron ki tarah” (“Those who could not splash their tears on the years of woe that have set my mind and body aflame; all they could do was rain like embers on my wounds”)… what resoundingly bitter words against one who proved faithless.

Yoon hasraton ke daag mohabbat mein dho liye (Adalat, 1958): Like Rehte thhe kabhi, this song too is a sad one, sung by a woman who’s been forced into becoming a tawaif. The loneliness and deep sorrow in the words (by Rajinder Krishan) always one to tears – especially the “Ghar se chale thhe hum toh khushi ki talaash mein; gham raah mein khade thhe, wohi saath ho liye” (“I left home in search of happiness; but sorrows were standing along the way, and they became my companions”).

Humse aaya na gaya, tumse bulaaya na gaya (Dekh Kabira Roya, 1957): A ghazal (again, by Rajinder Krishan) that starts off in a light-hearted, happy vein – a song of love given and love reciprocated – and then disintegrates into a song of that same love lost. The last sher (“Daag jo tune diya, dil se mitaaya na gaya” – “the mark that you left cannot be erased from my heart”) suggests that life will go on, but with a constantly nagging memory of the beloved.

Jurm-e-ulfat pe humein (Taj Mahal, 1963): This is Sahir Ludhianvi again (a favourite lyricists), being the voice of a quietly (but very emphatically) defiant Arjumand Bano as she proclaims her disdain for wealth and power as against her love for Khurram. Very dignified, but very obviously sure of the power of her love.

Main teri nazar ka suroor hoon (Jahanara, 1964): A ghazal by Rajinder Krishan, portraying the doomed love of a princess for a commoner. Jahanara is in love with Mirza Changezi and he with her, but they know nothing can come of it because as a Mughal princess, she is forbidden to marry… but even if they are apart, he is still her love. Even if she has forgotten – “Tujhe yaad ho ke na yaad ho” (“whether you remember or not”) – he will always be in her heart, her “aashiqui ka ghuroor” (“the pride of her passion”). The translations may sound a little odd in English, but the Urdu is certainly more lyrical.

Mere mehboob tujhe meri mohabbat ki kasam (Mere Mehboob, 1963):
It says a lot for the beauty of this song  -  the original (by Shakeel Badayuni) is still a favourite. The ultimate love song, voicing the need for the beloved, desperately searching for her, praising her and his love for her – which woman wouldn’t melt, eh?!

Uthaaye jaa unke sitam aur jiye jaa (Andaaz, 1949): A Majrooh Sultanpuri ghazal. The recurring theme of bearing every cruelty with a smile, going on suppressing one’s tears (well, drinking them down, if one has to be literal) – is certainly doormat-ish behaviour. It is, however, also a sign of the helplessness of a woman who’s so deeply in love with the husband who suspects her of infidelity that she’s even willing to bear that for his sake.

Zinda hoon is tarah ke gham-e-zindagi nahin (Aag, 1948): A despairing ghazal, by the Urdu poet Behzad Lakhnavi. It manages to convey deep anguish and hopelessness in a way few other songs can do  –  even at the very beginning, that “Jalta hua diya hoon magar roshni nahin” (“I am a burning lamp that emits no light”) is a vivid reflection of the uselessness of the hero’s life after he’s lost his love.

Chalte-chalte yoon hi koi (Pakeezah, 1971): A surreal song, as well as its background: a courtesan encounters a stranger – and that too only through a note he’s left in a train compartment, praising the beauty of her feet – and that chance encounter changes her life forever. Later, even when she’s back at her work, singing and dancing for a wealthy client, it is that stranger she’s recalling – and hoping against hope for another meeting before her life draws to a close: “Shab-e-intezaar aakhir kabhi hogi muktsar bhi; yeh chirag bujh rahe hain, mere saath jalte-jalte” (“This night of waiting will eventually be short… these burning lamps are dying out with me.”). A beautiful example of Kaifi Azmi’s work.

Lastly, one of Hindi cinema’s most cynical ghazals  –  Tang aa chuke hain kashmakash-e-zindagi (Pyaasa, 1957): This one’s from the pen of the inimitable Sahir Ludhianvi, and from a film that featured some of his best lyrics. Tang aa chuke hain kashmakash-e-zindagi se hum is a recitation rather than a song, perfectly rendered by Rafi. The words are hard-hitting and bitter, the ghazal simmering with unhappiness – the unhappiness that life has bestowed on its writer: “Denge wohi jo paayenge is zindagi se hum” (“I will give that which I have received from life”).

Interestingly, the same ghazal was sung by Asha Bhonsle for the film Light House (1958). Both renditions are excellent, but the Pyaasa version has a more haunting quality to it.

Akhlaq Mohammad Khan, aka Shahryar, who passed away recently, was the lyricist for one of the very few post-1970s films that had good ghazals – so, in tribute, a ghazal by Shahryar:

Justju jiski thhi (Umrao Jaan, 1981. Although Umrao Jaan had some superb ghazals, this one, with its dignified yet sorrowful looking back at a lost love (and a life only half-lived?), is in a class by itself.

 

Shahryar..."RIP".