Oyeah, a Sapna came true

(Am)It’s one thing for a debutant to compose just one track in a film; it’s quite another to witness it become one of the year’s biggest hits.

That was indeed the case with Viju Shah. And the song in question was none other than Tirchi Topiwale (also billed as Oye Oye) from Tridev.

Although it was inspired by Gloria’s 1987 hit Rhythm Is Gonna Get You, his (Este)fans couldn’t care less.

Anand Bakshi penned the song, which was sung by Kumar and Sapna Mukherjee, who bagged the Filmfare Best Female Playback Singer Award in 1990.

It appealed to the MASSes

Tridev (1989) was an actioner, and thus, was tailor-made for Kalyanji-Anandji, who were undoubtedly the Shahs when it came to composing the music of films of that genre.

But by no means were they not versatile, as (Trid)evidenced by the fact that they composed Main Teri Mohabbat Mein, a romantic track penned by Anand Bakshi.

It was rendered by the M(el)o(hamme)dious Aziz and Sadhana Sargam.

The soundtrack earned them [and Viju Shah (the son of Kalyanji and the nephew of Anandji)] a nomination in the Best Music Director category at the Filmfare Awards in 1990.

It will (Paudw)always touch (Man)h(e)arts

When one is discussing the music of Ram Lakhan, the romantic track picturised on its P(y)ar(el)allel leads – Jackie Shroff and Dimple Kapadia – (Laxmi)kan’t (and shouldn’t) be forgotten.

Tera Naam Liya was a relative shortie on a soundtrack that was chock full of lengthy numbers – it was five minutes and 58 seconds long.

But that’s (Man)hardly the reason why Hindi film music aficionados remember the song, which was penned by Anand Bakshi and rendered by Udhas.

This song earned Anuradha Paudwal a nomination in the Best Female Playback Singer category at the Filmfare Awards in 1990.  

Ms Mangeshkar’s pLa(ta)int became immortal

O Ramji Bada Dukh Dina – the six-minute, four-second long track from Ram Lakhan – was a song Lata Mangeshkar was expected to take to like a du(c)k(h) does to water. So it wasn’t surprising that she rendered it beautifully.

The Laxmikant-Pyarelal composition was penned by Anand Bakshi. And because he loved to KISS (keep it simple, stupid), his use of Ramji didn’t border on the ambiguous.

Ram – the name of Jackie Shroff’s character in the film – was suffixed with the honorific ji (used across India as a term of respect), because he was Lakhan’s older brother.

MAN, the introduction was fantabulous!

While my last two posts were a build-up of sorts to My Name Is Lakhan, here’s a post on the track from Ram Lakhan, which was penned by Anand Bakshi and was seven minutes and ten seconds long.

The film’s soundtrack earned Laxmikant-Pyarelal a nomination in the Filmfare Best Music Director category in 1990.

And Mohammed Aziz was nominated in the Filmfare Best Male Playback Singer category for the song, which began with the catchy Dhina Dhin Dha and contained the nonsensical phrase One Two Ka Four.

Anuradha Paudwal and Nitin Mukesh were his co-singers.

Amit and Aziz (Chi)nailed it

Main Hoon Woh Hero, from Ram Lakhan (1989), is about a role reversal of sorts, in which the baddie claims to be the hero, while Lakhan (played by Anil Kapoor) seems to have no qualms about referring to himself as a zero.

Their banter, which was nine minutes and seven seconds long, was penned by Bakshi (An)and set to music by Laxmikant-Pyarelal.

While Amit Kumar fit the bill as the voice of the cocky ‘hero’, they couldn’t have ‘zero’ed in on a better singer than Mohammed Aziz for Kapoor.

They were joined by Alisha Chinai.       

(Am)It was dedicated to Mumbai

Bom Bom Bom Bom Bombay Meri Hai from Rakhwala (1989) was the second song of what could be called Amit’s Bombay trilogy.

The tracK(u)marked the singer’s collaboration of three other chips off the old block – Sameer (whose real name is Shitala Pandey) penned it and Anand-Milind were the music directors. The former was lyricist Anjaan’s son.

Not only was it picturised on Anil Kapoor, but it also contained excerpts of a couple of jhakkas tracks from other films that are, and will always be, synonymous with him – Ek Do Teen and My Name Is Lakhan.     

(Wadk)Ardent Asha fans loved it

When Leo’s When I Need You released in 1977, no soothSayer could predict that not only would a version of that song be on the soundtrack of a Hindi film, but would also go on to become very popular.

However, both those things could B(hosl)e said about Tumse Milke from Parinda (1989).

R D did (Hallau)rise to the occasion like the proverbial phoenix, but he wasn’t really able to recreate the (Bur)mania he generated in his heyday. Khurshid penned the track, which Asha and Suresh Wadkar rendered.

It was five minutes and eleven seconds long.

This track was sung S(u)P(er)Bly

If Mere Rang Mein Rangnewaali, the male solo from Maine Pyar Kiya, weren’t one of the film’s best songs, Raamlaxman would have had been B(a)la(subrahmanya)med for (Koh)lifting it from The Final Countdown, which released in 1986 and continues to be the Swedish band’s most popular song.  

Of course, hE(u)roped S P in to render it. And frankly, only the deep-voiced crooner from the South could’ve done justice to it.

But, to the composer’s delight, Hindi film music buffs lapped up the song, which was penned by Dev and was six minutes and 46 seconds long.

(Pig)Eons ago, Lata was S(u)P(er)B

Kabootar Ja Ja Ja, from Maine Pyar Kiya, proved that neither Lata Mangeshkar nor S P Balasubrahmanyam could be pigeonholed. They were accompanied by a chorus.

Incidentally, the name of the kabootar – entrusted with delivering Bhagyashree’s first love letter to Khan – was Handsome, an adjective often used to describe the film’s leading (Sal)man.

A (Koh)list of songs about our feathered and furry pals would definitely be incomplete without mention of this track, penned by Dev.

At eight minutes and 24 seconds, it was the longest song on the film’s soundtrack, which was composed by Raamlaxman.

Was this track that reLatable?

There were three versions of Dil Deewana, which, in the descending order of duration, were as follows – the female version (which was five minutes and 55 seconds long and rendered by Lata Mangeshkar and a chorus), the male solo (which was five minutes and 22 seconds long and rendered by S P Balasubrahmanyam) and the duet (which was a minute and three seconds long and rendered by Mangeshkar and Balasubrahmanyam).

The Raamlaxman composition from Maine Pyar Kiya earned Balasubrahmanyam the Filmfare Best Male Playback Singer Award and Asad the Filmfare Best (Bhopa)L(yr)icist Award in 1990.

  

They drove the BLU(e)S away

A boy and a girl can just be platonic friends.

That was what Asad, who penned Aaya Mausam Dosti Ka, from Maine Pyar Kiya, wanted the Bho(pa)li-bhaali janata to believe.

And there must've been quite a few young, innocent folks who took his word for it.

The Raamlaxman composition, which was six minutes and 47 seconds long, sampled Tarzan Boy (Baltimora’s debut single, which released in 1985).

S P Balasubrahmanyam and Lata Mangeshkar shared the Sing(h)ing credits with a couple of other singers – Usha Mangeshkar and Shailendra [who wasn’t given short (Raj)shrift by the banner]. 

A Wonderful song waS(P)B‘Lata’ntly lifted

One needn’t listen to Aate Jaate Hanste Gaate – from Maine Pyar Kiya – on loop to realise that it sounds familiar.

Dev penned the song, which was (Koh)lifted from Stevie’s I Just Called To Say I Love You, the Wonderful ballad that released in 1984.

He was nominated in the Filmfare Best Lyricist category in 1990.

The track, which was sung by S P Balasubrahmanyam and Lata Mangeshkar, fetched Raamlaxman the Filmfare Award for Best Music Director in 1990.

At three minutes and 29 seconds, it was one of the shortest tracks on the film’s soundtrack.

   

He was already (Balasubrah)manyamile ahead

Even if one isn’t a die-hard Khan fan, he/she might concur that S P Balasubrahmanyam kicked off the (Sal)mania that has engulfed scores of people, most of them young ladies.

After all, it was he who rendered all the songs picturised on the actor in Maine Pyar Kiya (1989), his debut as a leading man.

It would be a crying Sha(a)me if Aaja Shaam Hone Ayee – which was penned by Dev – weren’t on the (Koh)list of Raamlaxman’s best compositions.  

Lata Mangeshkar was the co-singer of the track, which was five minutes and 14 seconds long.    

It (Bis)was a refreshing (Bach)change

As stated in the post on the Jaadugar song, Amitabh Bachchan wasn’t really a big box-office draw in the late 1980s.

But the (Kai)fire in the then Angry Not-so-Young Man’s belly could never really be extinguished.

He sang Itne Baazu Itne Sar, which was penned by the patriarch of the erudite Azmi clan.

It was the only song in the off-beat Main Azaad Hoon (1989), and (Bis)was composed by the one-hit wonders Amar Haldipur and Utpal.

A line from the track, Khelein Hum Jee Jaan Sey, probably inspired the title of the 2010 Abhishek Bachchan-starrer.

He sang about aN(it)intrinsic problem

It never seemed to bug Hindi film music buffs that Paisa Bolta Hai – a qawwali by the renowned Pakistani siblings – spoke about the wealth amassed by unscrupulous folks, who continue to do so.

But what was more appalling was the (Be)Sabri of Rajesh Roshan to recreate it. He composed the music of the 1989 film Kala Bazaar, on whose soundtrack the inspired (and Indianised) version – sung by Nitin Mukesh – featured.

Although it didn’t go on to become a chartbuster, Roshan obviously wasn’t sweating. However, it (Saee)didn’t do Payam, who penned it, a world of good. 

The Bachchan magic was waning

Between the ages of 45 and 55, Amitabh Bachchan played the lead in a string of indifferent films, one of which was Jaadugar (1989). It was his seventh (and last) collaboration with producer-director Prakash Mehra, and the duo's only flop.

Hindi film music aficionados can’t – and mustn’t – forget Kalyanji-Anandji’s contribution to the success of the first four Mehra-Bachchan films.

Keen to repeat it, the foursome teamed up for Padosan Apni Murgi from the aforementioned film.

Javed Akhtar penned the track, rendered by the actor in his distinctive baritone.

Sadly, it was nothing to crow about.

       

(M)Itwas (B)ablast from the past

As far as dream debuts in Bollywood are concerned, an unforgettable one was that of Babla Mehta.

A singer with a voice that resembled that of the legendary singer Mukesh (to whom he continues to pay homage at concerts, both in India as well as overseas), his maiden song was Tere Mere Honthon Pe (simply known as Mitwa), the duet from Chandni.

His first co-singer was none other than Lata Mangeshkar, whose duets with his idol continue to enthrall Hindi film music buffs.

The four-minute, 31-second track, penned by Anand Bakshi, was composed by Shiv-Hari.

Melody and masti were Ma(ngeshka)rried

A chorus, comprising only members of the fairer sex, joined Lata Mangeshkar, Bollywood’s eternal bachelorette, as she sang Mere Haathon Mein Nau Nau Choodiyan Hain.

Anand Bakshi penned the sangeet staple from Chandni.

The film released on September 14, 1989, and was a hit, as was the song. There couldn’t have been a better gift than that for Mangeshkar, who became a sexagenarian a fortnight later.

At five minutes and 34 seconds, this Shiv-Hari composition was the longest song on the soundtrack.

But hopefully no one complained, because they got more bang(les) for the buck.

Wadkar eschewed the monsoon (Anupa)masti

Those associated with Hindi film music usually make a song and dance about the rain. But Shiv-Hari bucked the trend.

Lagi Aaj Saawan Ki from Chandni – which was three minutes and 25 seconds long – was the shortest song on the film’s soundtrack.

The haunting track was penned by Anand Bakshi, who was nominated for the Filmfare Best Lyricist Award in 1990.

It fetched Suresh Wadkar a nomination in the Filmfare Best Male Playback Singer Award category the same year.

Anupama Deshpande – who bagged the 1985 Filmfare Award for Best Female Playback Singer – was his co-singer.   

Sridevi obviously enJo(ll)yed her en’title’ment

Shiv-Hari forayed into Hindi film music sporadically. One of their assignments was the soundtrack of Chandni (1989). It earned them their second nomination in the Best Music Director category at the Filmfare Awards the following year.

Its title track, Chandni O Meri Chandni was four minutes and 32 seconds long.

Not only was it picturised on Sridevi (who essayed the eponymous character), but she also lent her voice to it.

The childlike enthusiasm with which she exercised her vocal chords was ‘note’worthy.

Jolly Mukherjee was the male singer of the duet, penned by Anand Bakshi. 

Aziz definitely made his (Bee)mark

There’s no denying the fact that Mohammed Aziz was (Kavi)talented. This was evident from his rendition of numerous songs in the second half of the 1980s and the early 1990s.

One of them was Tera Beemar Mera Dil, the duet with Ms Krishnamurthy from ChaalBaaz.

By some quirk of fate, there was a surfeit of Mohammed Rafi clones, who emerged during the decade following the legend’s demise.  

Aziz was among those upon whom that unenviable label was bestowed.  

But he enjoyed the patronage of Laxmikant-Pyarelal, who composed this track, which was penned by Anand Bakshi.

  

Ms Krishnamurthy was certainly (Premk)alivewire

When translated, the (Premk)alias used by Sridevi in Naam Mera Premkali, the song from ChaalBaaz, means a bud of love.

Was (Kav)ita surprise that this bud blossomed into one of the most mind-blowing performers of our times? No, it certainly wasn’t.

At that point, a number of tracks picturised on the actress, including this one, were rendered by Ms Krishnamurthy.

It was penned by Anand.

While there’s no doubt about the fact that (Baks)his partnership with composers Laxmikant-Pyarelal was prolific, they deserved credit for their ability to keep up with the times, which were a-changing.     

The inAmitable Kavita rocked it

Na Jaane Kahan Se Aayi Hai remains, to date, the most popular song on the soundtrack of ChaalBaaz.

Sridevi’s dance in the rain fetched Saroj Khan the Filmfare Best Choreography Award in 1990.

The track was penned by Bakshi (An)and composed by Laxmikant-Pyarelal.

Since Bollywood music directors have been full-time seekers of inspiration for eons, it’s little Wonder that the duo succumbed to the temptation, sampling Stevie’s 1985 single Part-time Lover.

(Am)It was sung by Kumar and Kavita Krishnamurthy, who was nominated for a Filmfare Award in the Best Female Playback Singer category in 1990.

Amit and Kavita were Jolly

Circa 1989, many a biggie was saying, “Gadbad ho gayee”. But the makers of ChaalBaaz, a film that released that year and was a hit at the box office, realised that humour invariably helps tide over (G)a(d)bad phase.

Hence, a phrase used to rue the fact that things were in a state of disarray became the hook of a Laxmikant-Pyarelal composition.

Penned by Bakshi, it gave the listeners a great deal of Anand.

(Am)It was sung by Kumar and Kavita Krishnamurthy. And since the mood was Jolly, it featured the vocals of Mukherjee as well.

(N)Itindeed boosted a slumbering career

It wouldn’t be (Nit)incorrect to say that So Gaya Yeh Jahan, from Tezaab, was Mukesh’s son’s redemption song.

He was nearing the end of the second decade of his career – which, by no stretch of the imagination, was remarkable – when the Laxmikant-Pyarelal composition came his way.   

Fortunately, Kumar, the other man who lent his voice to it, didn’t do too Shabb(ir)y a job. They were joined by Yagnik, who could be (Al)kalled Ms Dependable.

The six-minute, four-second-long track – which will P(and)e(renniall)y be associated with Chunky (on whom it was picturised) – was penned by Javed Akhtar.

(Am)It earned Paudwal a nomination

Let’s hark back to the days when the protagonist’s threat to his beloved was a treat for the listeners’ ears.

“Keh do ke tum ho meri warna jeena nahin, mujhe hai marna” (Say you’re mine, or else I don’t want to live; I’ll die) – which was seven minutes and 57 seconds long – was the longest song on the soundtrack of Tezaab.

Penned by Javed Akhtar, the track was composed by Laxmikant-Pyarelal.

(Am)It was rendered by Kumar and Anuradha Paudwal, who was nominated for a Filmfare Award in the Best Female Playback Singer category in 1989. 

That’s (Al)kalled an awesome ‘number’

To say that Alka Yagnik’s seven-minute, 37-second-long song from Tezaab (1988) became a chartbuster would be an understatement.

(Dix)It made the twinkle-toed Madhuri an overnight sensation and earned her a moniker – the Ek Do Teen girl.

Those who wanted to know the Hindi words for numbers (1-26) simply had to listen to this number, which was penned by Javed Akhtar and composed by Laxmikant-Pyarelal (who were nominated for Filmfare Awards in the Best Lyricist and Music Director categories, respectively, in 1989).

Yagnik bagged the first of her seven Filmfare Awards for Best Female Playback Singer.       

It (Bis)was Kishore’s posthumous hit

Scores of Kishore Kumar songs were picturised on Amitabh Bachchan, but most of them released when the duo was at the peak of their careers.

The latter essayed the titular character in Shahenshah (1988), which released a few months after the demise of the former, who sang its title track, Andheri Raaton Mein.

That, obviously, has nothing to do with the Mumbai suburb (which is brightly lit and perpetually buzzing, while its name, ironically, means dark).

It (Bis)was penned by Bakshi (An)and composed by ace arranger Amar Haldipur and Utpal (veteran music director Anil’s son).

Real-life papa Udit woN(aray)an award

Aditya Narayan’s birthday falls on August 6. There’s no better way to celebrate (Ud)it than with a post about Papa Kehte Hain, the Anand-Milind composition from Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak that fetched his father his maiden Filmfare Award for Best Male Playback Singer in 1989.

It was penned by Majrooh Sultanpuri.

At least Aamir Khan waited for his last day at college to say, “Koi engineer ka kaam karega.”

That was a random line, unlike “Mera beta engineer banega”, the famous one Parikshit Sahni’s character mouthed in 3 Idiots (2009) when his son was born.

(D)Indeed, Alka (Gaz)absolutely rocked (Ud)it!

Just four minutes and 26 seconds long, Gazab Ka Hai Din was the shortest song on the soundtrack of Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak. But by no means did the track fall short of popularity.

(Mil)Indeed, it should be said that gazab ki thi tuning between Majrooh Sultanpuri, who penned the track, (An)and the Shrivastav brothers, who composed it.

The latter were unpolished Diamonds then, but mercifully, the song – inspired by Neil’s 1972 hit – didn’t have to scream, “Play Me”.  

Of course, cre(U)dit must be given to Narayan and Alka Yagnik, the duo who rendered it.

Ms Yagnik’s rendition was beaU(di)tiful

Mr Narayan and Alka Yagnik have lent their mellifluous voices to many a duet so far, but (Ud)it would certainly be unfair if Aye Mere Humsafar from Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak weren’t up there with the best of them.

The belief of a generation of youngsters in the (Sultan)purity of love was restored, thanks to Majrooh’s lyrics. Believe it or not, the man was in the seventh decade of his life at that point!

The track, which was five minutes and 58 seconds long, continues to give the listeners a great deal of Anand, (Mil)indeed!    

(Ud)It (Al)kan never be forgotten

Maybe Akele Hain Toh Kya Gham Hai – the song from Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak (1988), which was penned by Majrooh Sultanpuri and sung by Udit (Naray)and Alka Yagnik – should’ve been rechristened Lamba hai toh kya gham hai (at five minutes and 59 seconds, it was the longest track in the film).

With this song (inspired by The Shadows’ instrumental piece Return to the Alamo), Anand-Milind emerged to carry forward the legacy of their father Chitragupta, a low-profile composer in the Golden Era.

The soundtrack fetched them the Filmfare (Shrivast)avard for Best Music Director in 1989.  

Sadhana was certainly on fire

Critics haven’t always been ‘Chari(o)t’able when they’ve written about the fire in Rajesh Roshan’s belly.

Nevertheless, the younger son of yesteryears’ composer Roshan has plodded on and shone, as was evident from the fact that he was nominated for the Filmfare Best Music Director Award for Khoon Bhari Maang in 1989.

The Sadhana Sargam solo from the film, Main Teri Hoon Jaanam – penned by Indeevar and inspired by the theme song of the British film Chariots of Fire (1981) – fetched her a nomination in the Best Female Playback Singer category at the 1989 Filmfare Awards.

Nitin did his father’S(adha)naam Roshan

Here’s an attempt at juvenile humour: Why do road construction workers laugh while working on dividers?

The answer, which wouldn’t elicit even a chuckle is, “Hanste hanste kat jaaye raste”.

But on a serious note, that would bring Bollywood music aficionados to the duet from Khoon Bhari Maang (1988), penned by Indeevar (Rosh)and composed by Rajesh.

Since it was a hit, there was obviously no looking back for Mukesh’s son. But it wouldn’t be (Nit)incorrect to say that he could only look forward to short-lived success.

His co-singer was Sadhana Sargam, whose surname is musical.

To this, (M)aliking was (Kavi)taken

Malik cut his musical teeth at the beginning of the 1980s, when Anumber of biggies were ruling the roost.

When he was finding his feet in the industry, one of the films he scored the music of was Jeete Hain Shaan Se, which released in 1988.

He and Kavita Krishnamurthy rendered its most popular track, Julie Julie, Johnny ka dil tumpe aaya Julie.

Thanks to a line in the corny but catchy song, there’s a horde that probably grew up harbouring the misconception that Indian Christian women are In(dee)variably named Sandra, and hail from Bandra.   

This duet was Jolly good

Chaahe Meri Jaan Tu Le Le – the song from Dayavan – was sung by a pair who shared a surname.

While Mr Mukherjee’s name gave Hindi film music aficionados ample indication of his disposition [and, of course, the mood of the track, which is, in fact, punctuated by a woman’s laugh and several repetitions of Haiya Ho, a Jo(ll)yous cry], what Ms Mukherjee was living at that point was nothing short of a Sapna.

It’s Indee(var)d mandatory that everyone associated with a song R(a)ises to the occasion, as did Shyamalal Babu, who penned this Laxmikant-Pyarelal composition.  

This track was (Udh)asaving grace

Before Dayavan (1988) released, the excitement prior to the release of the soundtrack of a film produced and directed by Feroz Khan would be palpable.

And with good reason – many a track from his previous ventures (Ud)has gone on to become a chartbuster.

The same was expected of Aaj Phir Tumpe Pyaar Aaya Hai, sung by Pankaj and Anuradha. (Paudw)Alas, that wasn’t to be.

So while India’s Clint Eastwood didn’t become lal in the face, the fans wished he’d realised that Kalyanji-Anandji kan’t be replaced.

However, the Laxmi-Pyare composition, penned by Aziz Qaisi, wasn’t bad. 

Bappi earned the L(ahir)isteners’ (Vi)nod

In the early 1980s, Vinod Khanna – who passed away in April 2017 – (O)shocked his fans by leaving the Hindi film industry to embark upon a five-year-long spiritual journey.

In 1987, he made a comeback. One of his earliest on-screen appearances in his second innings was Satyamev Jayate, which released that year.

Bappi, who was in (L)a(hi)rich vein of form during what was referred to as Bollywood’s decade of mediocrity, composed and sang Dil Mein Ho Tum, a song from the aforementioned film.

S Janaki rendered the female version of the track, penned by Faruk Kaiser.  

Kishore couldn’t be reeten off

August 4, 2017 is the 88^th birth anniversary of Kishore, and there can be no better song to (Ku)mark the occasion than Zindagi ki yehi reet hai, haar ke baad hi jeet hai (This is the way of life; there’s victory only after defeat) from Mr India.

A line of the track, penned by Javed Akhtar, went, “Thode aansoo hain, thodi hansi”, but the last two words did no justice to the aforementioned maverick, with whom a substantial dose of laughter left the building.

The solo, which had a sad version, was composed by Laxmikant-Pyarelal.   

This title track was K(ic)K(as)s

Karte hain hum pyaar Mr India se – the title track of the superhero film – depicted the female lead professing her love for the invisible alter ego of the protagonist, a lovable loser.

Of the handful of songs on the soundtrack, that ranged from the unabashedly saucy to the philosophical, this one certainly stood out, because it was possibly the most pleasing to the ear.

It was penned by Javed Akhtar, composed by Laxmikant-Pyarelal, and gave Kavita Krishnamurthy an opportunity to showcase her versatility. Kishore Kumar shared singing credits, and of course his initials, with her.

They (Alis)had a (Ku)marvellous time

Fifty-eight was no age to die, but Kishore Kumar bade the world adieu in 1987, leaving a treasure trove of melodies and memories behind.

One of them was Kaate Nahin Katte Yeh Din Yeh Raat from Mr India, which released five months before the legendary all-rounder’s passing.

To say that the Laxmikant-Pyarelal composition oozed sensuality would be an understatement.

Also billed as I Love You, it was penned by Javed Akhtar. Alisha was the co-singer. It wouldn’t be surprising if this song were picked as the top song to listen to on a rain-soaked (Chi)n(a)ight.        

  

This was certainly (K)avital track

Such was the gusto with which Kavita Krishnamurthy rendered Hawa Hawai from Mr India (1987) that even a goof-up by her was okayed. One of the lines went, “Jeenu jo tumne baat chhupayi” (it should have been, “Jaanu jo tumne baat chhupayi”).

The film was Salim Khan and Javed Akhtar’s last collaboration. The famed screenwriting duo, known as Salim-Javed, split five years before its release.

Akhtar, who continues to be active as a Hindi film lyricist, penned this Laxmikant-Pyarelal composition, which starts with a string of random nouns like Honolulu and Mombasa, interspersed with gibberish.

Aziz waS(ar)game for some romance

Even if a person is fond of a tipple, his beloved would give him the thumbs up if he serenaded her with “Mai se meena se na saaki se, na paimaane se, dil behalta hai mera, aap ke aa jaane se” (Neither a drink, nor a flask, nor a server, nor a glass can enthuse me. It is only when you come that my heart feels good).

This Rajesh composition from Khudgarz – penned by Faruk Kaiser – was (Ros)hands down one of the biggest hits of 1987. It was rendered by Mohammed Aziz and Sadhana Sargam. 

Bollywood was never Remo’s ‘Goa’l

Over the years, a few Hindi film soundtracks have featured renditions by Fernandes, but the man from the land of sun, sea, sand and feni was (J)always far Removed from the stuff typically dished out by Bollywood composers.

But the Goan shot to instant fame pan-India when he penned, composed and sang the title track of the 1987 film, which mostly comprised repetitions of the line, “Dekho Dekho Yeh Hai Jalwa”.

Incidentally, he also made a special appearance (as himself) in the song.

At that point, it was one of the longest Hindi film songs.

Wadkar’s voice Sure(sh)ly (As)had sincerity

Aur Is Dil Mein Kya Rakha Hai is a track from Imaandaar (1987), whose music was composed by Kalyanji-Anandji. It had two versions – a female solo and a duet. This post is about the latter.

While Asha (Bhos)lent her voice to both the versions, she was joined by Suresh Wadkar for the duet.

They were not penned by the same Indeev(ar)idual. While it was Shyamalal Babu Rai (a specialist in that department) who wrote the duet, the lyrics of Bhosle’s version were credited to noted filmmaker Mehra [whose Amitabh Bachchan-starrers set the (Pra)kash registers ringing].

It was (Bhos)l(ad)en with emotion

There is no doubt about the fact that Mera Kuchh Saamaan was as poignant as it was pregnant with meaning.

The song from Ijaazat was penned by Gulzar, composed by R D Burman and sung by Asha Bhosle.

It wasn’t as much about saamaan as it was about sammaan (honour), as evidenced by the fact that Bhosle bagged the National Film Award for Best Female Playback Singer in 1988.

Moreover, it didn’t just fetch Gulzar the National Film Award for Best Lyrics in 1988, but also the Filmfare Award for Best Lyricist the following year.  

   

Asha’s (Ka)track was a treat

“Katra katra milti hai, katra katra jeene do. Zindagi hai, zindagi hai, behne do, behne do. Pyaasi hoon main, pyaasi rehne do. Rehne do na.”

It wasn’t just (K)atrack from Ijaazat, but it wouldn’t be incorrect to assume that it must have also been Asha Bhosle’s philosophy.

The verse means, “Drops meet. Let me live, drop by drop. This is life, let it flow. I am thirsty, let my thirst remain unquenched.”

And appropriately, it was penned and composed by a couple of venerated gents who knew her intimately – Gulzar and R D Burman, respectively. 

This track (As)has (chho)timeless appeal

Even if it belonged to what is referred to by Indian cineastes as the parallel cinema movement (or the art-house genre), it would be unfair to pigeonhole Ijaazat (1987), whose soundtrack continues to be popular.

A Gulzar verse – rendered by Asha Bhosle – went, “Chhoti si kahaani se, baarishon ke paani se, saari waadi bhar gayi” (A short story, and rain water, have filled the whole valley).

The film released during composer R D Burman’s lean phase. So while music aficionados appreciated the song, it did precious little to salvage his career, which was in freefall.   

   

(Zoo)By the way, Alisha rocked!

In the 1980s, Lahiri had his finger firmly in the disco (Bap)pie, and that genre seemed to be in no mood to khisko from the public consciousness.

The desi king of bling wasn’t one to bother to justify his penchant for getting inspired, because he had a generation swaying to his tunes, one of which was Zooby Zooby from Dance Dance (1987).

This adaptation of Brother Louie, the Modern Talking single, was penned by Anjaan.

(Zoo)By the way, it released just a year before Alisha’s rendition, following which the Chinai Express began to chug along.