One of the greatest Hindi film songs based on Indian classical music was from the movie Baiju Bawra, the story of a young minstrel who leaves his village home in search of Tansen, one of the nine gems of Akbar’s court, to challenge the great ustad to a musical duel to avenge his father’s death. Man tarpat Hari darshan ko aaj in the raga Malkauns, a haunting melody rendered in Mohammed Rafi’s flawless voice, is one of several beautiful songs in the film. In a delightfully inclusive coincidence - which has been appreciated by many - the singer, the lyricist (Shakeel Badayuni) and music director (Naushad) of the song were all Muslims. The same music director-lyricist pair of Naushad and Shakeel created the delicate tune Mohe panghat pe Nandlal chhed gayo re in the raga Gara in K Asif’s blockbuster Mughal-e-Azam. It was sung by the golden-voiced Lata Mangeshkar.
Films and music have always provided such beautiful instances of cross cultural collaboration and interchanges. From the Dagar Brothers and Amir Khan to Rashid Khan and Shahid Parvez, Muslim singers and instrumentalists paying musial homage to Hindu gods in their songs have been legion in Hindustani classical music. The guru-sishya parampara of yore tells several inspiring tales of devotion and loyalty across creeds and communities.
The make believe world of cinema brings together people of different faiths and even makes those who have no faith show a different side on screen. The actor Balraj Sahni, for example, was a sworn atheist in real life who lipsynced most convincingly for the song Tu pyar ka sagar hai in the pellucid voice of Manna Dey in the film Seema - although he sat on a chair facing away from the idol whose heart the song sought to melt. When Lata Mangeshkar or Asha Bhonsle sings a qawwali or a sufi song, she somehow captures its soul to the manner born. From Dilip Kumar to Shah Rukh Khan, not to mention the early female buccaneers of the Hindi screen, the minorities have effortlessly essayed Hindu roles — and vice versa, too — through the decades. Outside of films, when Mohammad Rafi sang Main gwalo rakhwalo maiya, he brought the mischievous, pleading child Krishna effortlessly to your mind’s eye. If Bismillah Khan, a devout Muslim who also worshipped Saraswati, and his beloved Benares exemplified the spirit of Indian music that transcended religion, equally powerful is the impact of an MS Subbulakshmi rendering a ghazal by Mirza Ghalib or an ode to Guru Nanak. Not that the two icons needed to fortify their music with explicit expressions of bhakti; their very music created the aura.
The advent of the likes of Ilayaraja and AR Rahman in film music started an impressive transmigration of singing talent between north and south, with Shreya Ghosal, Udit Narayan and their ilk lisping in south Indian tongues and Hariharan, Srinivas, Chinmayi and others perfectly at home in Hindi. Fifty years ago, TM Soundararajan, P Suseela, Tiruchi Loganathan, PB Sreenivas and Jikki were not infrequently heard promoting integration across castes and creeds in song. A famous verse of the period was revolutionary enough to ask ‘Ethanai kandaan, mathangalai padaithaan?’ ruing the day man invented religion. In love, cinema found the answer to our deep-rooted problems that still show no signs of going away.
(The writer is Editor, Sruti)
Download the all new Deccan Chronicle app for Android and iOS to stay up-to-date with latest headlines and news stories in politics, entertainment, sports, technology, business and much more from India and around the world.
