Legend. Goddess. Superstar.

Note: This post is from the perspective of a true-blue fanboy. Do not come looking for any kind of objectivity in this one.

[Image courtesy: Google Images]

260+ films in a career spanning 51 years. An awards list longer than her own cascading-waterfall, raven-black locks. Regular—and effortless—eclipsing of her super-illustrious male co-stars like Kamal Haasan, Rajinikanth, Mithun Chakraborty, Rajesh Khanna, NTR and Amitabh Bachchan. Being recognized by colleagues, critics and audiences alike as “the only female superstar of Indian Cinema” and “the best Indian actress of all time”.

All this together serves to describe but a little part of the phenomenon, the one-woman army that Sridevi was. For she was much, much greater than the sum of her parts.

The oval-faced, olive-eyed beauty who drove men to heights of such romantic frenzy that they would forget their marital status and pursue her (she ultimately married two of them over the span of a decade in her life, with the first ending disastrously). Actress par excellence, who incited such insecurity among her co-stars—heroes and heroines alike—that they would actually avoid being cast in a movie with her, for she left nothing for others to do once the camera was switched on. Refusing to accept inconsequential, glamour-only roles, even if they came with blank cheques and/or were opposite the mighty Bachchan. And driving millions of her fans, nay, devotees, to throes of ecstasy with her monolith-melting performances over and over again, with her unique blend of talent of a god-level prodigy, innocence of a child, face of an angel, and body of a supreme seductress.

Au revoir, goddess. There shall be, there is, not one other like you. Not one other shall command our unswerving, unwavering devotion like you did. And do.

And shall keep doing. Forever and ever.

[Image courtesy: Google Images]

Kishore-Lata Romantic Duets: Random Ruminations Of A Hospitalized Pancham Lover

During my recent two-day stint at the hospital, during which I had to undergo a long-pending surgery due to an internal haemorrhaging issue in the lower abdominal region, I had the opportunity to re-visit some of my all-time favourite Kishore Kumar-Lata Mangeshkar duets composed by—who else?—RD Burman. I shared these songs on a Facebook forum dedicated to Pancham, but then, I thought, why not compile the separate entries in one place?

So here it is, my thoughts on some of the finest RDB-KK-Lata collaborations (in no particular order), dedicated to the Nightingale of India, the best Music Director India has ever produced, and the greatest (male) singer of India in his birth month. Enjoy!

[Picture Courtesy: Google Images, edited]

• Jagir (1984): “Chor tera naam hai”

[Tin Murti (1982): “Churi chhara kaj nei”]

One of the more fun, peppy romantic duets of KK & Lata.

Shakti Samanta in the 70s and the 80s specialized in making Bangla-Hindi bilinguals, like Amanush-Amanush, Ananda Ashram-Anand Ashram, Anyay Abichar-Aar Paar, Andha Bichar-Dushman, ANUSANDHAN-BARSAAT KI EK RAAT, etc. Samanta used to shoot every single scene in these films of his twice, once in Bangla and once in Hindi. Pramod Chakravorty joined the bilingual bandwagon with the superhit entertainer Teen Murti-Jagir in 82/84, but the difference was, Chakravorty only shot the scenes twice; the songs were shot only once, in Hindi, and used in the Bangla version as-is, with the songs dubbed over. This is why the lip-sync is off in the Bangla version. Watch the Bangla version of this song after the Hindi version and you'll know what I mean.

Nevertheless, that does not take anything away from this playful, naughty number. Both KK and Lata were well into their 50s when this song was done, yet they sound as youthful as the lead pair looks. Mithun is at his charming best, and although Shoma Anand could never really make it big as a heroine, she looks incredibly pretty in this song (and a bit like one of my paternal cousins). One other unique thing about this song is: despite being a romantic number, this one is as foot-tapping and dance-worthy as can be.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IsD3dkG-ljo

• Aandhi (1975): “Tum aa gaye ho”

If “Tere bina zindagi se koi” is a musing on a life of lost opportunities and “Iss mod se jaate hain” talks about the opportunities that stare one in the face at the beginning of youth and love, then “Tum aa gaye ho” is the quintessential ‘while in love’ ditty that completes the cycle by putting in the place the 2^nd of the three phases of love.

Suchitra Sen was an unusual choice; she came into the film when the original choice, Vyjayanthimala, declined as she was too much in awe of a certain Mrs. Gandhi, and surrendered completely to Gulzar's vision w/o demanding the slightest change anywhere in the script, unlike an earlier occasion when she demanded several changes in the script and Gulzar was compelled to say no to her. In this song, her heavy-duty makeup and her age show through—she was in her mid-40s when she did Aandhi—but the song itself, and the acting of the seasoned lead pair, one a fan favourite and the other a director's joy, more than make up for it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSjrsT8pTbQ

• Nehle Pe Dehlaa (1976): “Saawan ka maheena aa gaya”

For me, the USP of this song, apart from the music, of course, is not KK, neither Lata, neither a very handsome-looking Sunil Dutt, but the stunningly gorgeous, the absolutely divine Saira Banu. I'd marry her. Any day.

Feast your eyes, ladies and gentlemen, on this heavenly queen of oomph!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5nNRkf6z3oc

• Bade Dil Wala (1983): “Tujhme kya hai deewane”

The third of the delightful KK-Lata duets from Bade Dil Wala, and this one is a classic romantic number. “Kaho kaise rasta bhool pade” is playfully romantic in tone, but is not picturised on the romantic leads; “Kahin na jaa” is more about lending emotional support to the partner in times of crisis. But this one hits the sweet spot of the bat much like “Saagar kinare” from Saagar, “Kasme Vaade nibhayenge hum”, and “Deewana karke chhodoge” from Mere Jeevan Saathi.

The one thing about this song that strikes me is how much, orchestration-wise, this resembles the Lata solo “Aisa samaa na hota” from Zameen Aasmaan, which came a year or so after BDW. It is possible that both songs were composed more or less together; BDW came later, maybe as a result of Chintu’s well-known tardiness (but this is conjecture on my part). However, it is entirely probably that whichever song was recorded first occupied RD’s mindscape significantly enough to influence the one that was recorded second. “Tujhme kya hai” has more of Lata than of KK, and RD gives her the same high notes in this one as in “Aisa samaa”. And like “Saagar kinare”, all the BDW songs have a very, very contemporary feel.

And yes, “Tujhme kya hai” also has a lot of similarities with “Jaane kaise kab kahan” from SHAKTI. It's like “Jaane kaise” is the eldest sibling, “Tujh mein kya hai” is the middle sibling, and “Aisa samaa” is the youngest sibling.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOhlMk1fqjY

• Bade Dil Wala (1983): “Kaho kaise rasta bhool pade”

A return to gypsy camp after a long time since “Mehbooba Mehbooba” from SHOLAY and “Dilbar dil se pyaare” from Caravan. In the meanwhile, we have been subjected to the terrible “Kamaal hai kamaal hai” by Laxmi-Pyare in Karz, an otherwise fine album. And once again, like “Dilbar dil se pyaare”, it is Lata and not Asha doing the honours.

Musically, BDW is the best album among Bhappi Sonie's entire body of work, much better than anything he did with Shankar-Jaikishen or anyone else. BDW, Saagar, and Sitamgar are like Mere Jeevan Saathi of the 80s: flawless albums, less than desirable box office performances of the films.

For a long time, songs were seen as a tool, a means of releasing the tension that has been building up in the on-screen narrative (“Khaike paan Banaras-wala” from DON is the best example). This one is another fine example of a song being used to ease up on the tension: the hero, accused of a murder he didn't commit (very Vijay Anand-ish), is fleeing and comes upon a gypsy camp, where he and the gypsy girl hit it off and they break into a song. Not a strictly romantic song, but can easily be construed as one, given the chemistry of the singing-dancing pair and the lyrics. Close your eyes and you'll feel that this is a repartee between a romantic couple.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S6zRp3Pb020

• Alag Alag (1985): “Kuchh humko tumse”

The music in Kaka's penultimate home production was criticized by some for being “Laxmikant-Pyarelal-ish” for the use of dholak beats. The film, or its box-office performance, takes nothing away from this childhood favourite album of mine. What a delightful song!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8J--_4tI8Tk

• SHAKTI (1982): “Jaane kaise kab kahan”

Another top-notch KK-Lata number, but one with a twist: all the romantic frolicking turns into a sensuously-charged coming together of body and soul. Note how the tone of the song changes—to one of long-anticipated physical union as the song moves to the 3^rd antara.

This is also one of AB’s most romantic numbers, along with “Kasme Vaade nibhayenge hum” and MUQADDAR KA SIKANDAR’s “O saathi rey” by Kalyanji-Anandji.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4hsoOkXEpbA

• KASME VAADE (1978): “Kasme vaade nibhayenge hum”

Along with “Saagar kinare”, this one is THE definitive KK-Lata duet. Do I really need to elaborate on this?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W68p7_MYPF8

• Aanchal (1980): "Bas meri jaan bas"

More sensuous than romantic, with Rekha oozing oomph from every pore. Wonder what a certain Mr. Tall Man had to say to this!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iS84MRB7rUw

On "Aati rahengi baharein": Late-night Panchamania (And Bachchan-mania Too!)

Surprisingly, there are very few songs/sequences depicting things like birthdays, college life, etc. in AB movies. In all likelihood, the larger-than-life image that was created for him by writers and directors, as well as his aura, was responsible for that. Two rare birthday songs picturised on him and with him as the birthday boy are "Inteha ho gayee" from SHARAABI and this one from KASME VAADE.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CD2KC79uaes

Unlike the SHARAABI song, "Aati rahengi baharein" is comparatively a lot more low-key and straightforward, shorn of the high-decibel jing-bang orchestration that one gets to hear in 'urban mehfil' songs. There's hardly any hoo-haa either in the picturisation or in the composition. It starts off on a low note, to the mouth organ strains of "Happy birthday to you", and ends on a low-ish note as well, and this goes perfectly in sync with the fact that the birthday is that of a college professor. Just about the only high note is the brief mouth organ piece in the middle (when Randhir Kapoor starts grooving immediately before his antara), and that's in line with the character of the person doing it as well - a college-going, carefree, happy-go-lucky yuppie. This, then, is a song that ties up not only with the situation, but with the characters as well: a triumph of low-key composition meant for indoor use.

N.B.: there is one other indoor song in the film, the mujra number "Pyar ke rang se". Again, fits in with the mood, but does not do much in setting up the characters or advancing the story, unlike "Aati rahengi baharein", which gives the viewer a very good idea about the kind of relationship the three principle characters share.

Hitting The Right Notes

Ever since my Daughter was born 5 years ago, I have developed a habit of singing my favourite Bangla and Hindi songs (that means mostly RD Burman-Kishore Kumar numbers) to Her. Apart from trying to introduce Her to the Golden Era of popular Hindi/Bengali music, the idea has also been to keep Her away from the "Badtameez dil"/"Beat pe booty"-brand of atrocities. And it seems my efforts are bearing fruit.

Recently, I went to a friend's house with my Daughter. The host, a lover of retro music, started playing some old songs on his mobile attached to a speaker. After a song or two, "Tere bina zindagi se koi" came on.

My Daughter was sitting on the floor and playing by Herself. Suddenly, She looked up, cocked Her ears at the song that was playing, turned to me, and said: "Baba, Baba, Jete jete poth-e holo deri...", and then She started singing the Bangla version of the Aandhi song!

I was astonished at how my 5-year-old had been able to recognize the tune of the Hindi song and correctly identified the Bangla version of it. Evidently I must be doing something right, as far getting my Daughter's ears attuned to good music is concerned.

Love, Life, And Hope

Love.

A tiny little four-letter word, often found lost, wandering unwanted in a wilderness populated by other, more vicious four-letter words.

When Kuttush, our Family's "Adopted Sister-come-Daughter" (a.k.a. our pet) passed away on 16th January 2012, she left behind a Family so distraught that we never imagined that we would ever fully recover. For the first time, we came to know Despair like we had never known before: a gut-wrenching, burning-your-insides kind of Pain that just wouldn’t go away.

The first year after Kuttush's passing away was especially hard. Baba (my Father) missed his devoted Companion and Daughter terribly. So badly was he cut up, we could almost see the bleeding heart inside. And that was a seriously worrying matter: we were not sure his heart would hold up to the immense psychological strain.

What made things even more difficult for all of us was that we, his biological children, were living several hundred kilometres away from him at the time (we still do), and professional and personal commitments rendered it greatly difficult for my Sister and me to keep visiting our Parents in Kolkata frequently.

But we needn't have worried. The tradition—of being a Constant Companion to my Father—was kept alive. By someone who looked like a mirror image of Kuttush.

Kiara. Her Daughter.

Kiara took over from where her Mother had left off. Like Kuttush, she became what her Mother was: Baba's constant Companion, Friend, Shadow, and a rich substitute for his absentee children. She would not let Baba out of sight for even a second, going without food and water for hours, indeed, even days on end if her Master stepped out of the house. During the day, her shadow would merge into his; at night, she would snuggle up next to him in bed and fall asleep—but with one eye open and trained on him, just as her Mother used to do, just as she had learned from her Mother.

And Baba lived.

His love for the Mother turned itself upon the Daughter and found a new lease of life, even as Kiara bloomed under his loving eye. Over the years, they became as inseparable as the Baba-Kuttush duo: eating and playing together, going out for the occasional walk, sharing a pillow during nap times, and generally living it up in each other's splendid company.

And my Family came to recognize the healing power of Love. We realized that if Death is the one great truth of Life, Love is the other; Death will take away and Love will replenish the void.

Because Love will always find a way.

(This post was originally published on Tanya Munshi's Lifestyle Portal on February 1, 2015. This version contains some edits/changes/updates. You can read the original article here.)

She Sleeps In Beauty

Her Majesty has not been keeping well. A host of minor ailments have joined forces against Her.

Cartoons fail to cheer Her up. Song-&-dance routines, which She normally responds to rather enthusiastically, don't work. Nursery rhyme videos don't impress. Dinner is a disaster.

She deigns to be carried by Her humble and faithful minion. Ten minutes and three lullabies later, She is spent and fast asleep.

And the world, all of God's creation, has shrunken into that one infinite moment: a tiny fist clutching my finger, a plump little hand around my neck, and a small head crowned by damp, curly hair resting on my shoulder.

Beauty. Romance. Enigma.

When I was born, my Parents used to live in a rented apartment. The landlady had no grandchildren of her own and had taken to me, then a toddler, like fish take to water. My Parents called her 'Mashima' [aunt], which became 'Maasha' on my toddler's tongue. She was the one who introduced me to the magic of the Most Romantic Celluloid Couple Ever, 'Guru' [Uttam Kumar] and 'Gurumaa'. Today, Maasha is enjoying not only her Guru and Gurumaa's films in heaven, but their company too.

As for me, yet another link to my childhood has died, with the passing of 'Gurumaa', also known to the world as Suchitra Sen. There is an indescribable sadness that lingers, even three days after her death.

Because Suchitra Sen was not a mere film actress. She was a veritable goddess for whom my Father and I were rivals in love. That's who Mrs. Sen was.

Dear Rama-di, please say hello to Uttam Kumar from us, while we strive to refresh the golden memories with Harano Sur.

For My Daughter

She sleeps next to me, an arm across my chest, face buried in my shoulder, peaceful and safe in the knowledge that She will always have me next to Her.

I lie awake and unmoving, careful not to wake Her, secure in the knowledge that She will always trust me.

A nook of Heaven in a corner of the bed.

A drop of my blood. A piece of my soul.

Dumbstruck

For the last few days, The Wife has been trying to teach The Daughter stuff like "What is your name?", "What is your Mother's name?", "What is your Father's name?", and so on, with the appropriate responses...basically, trying to prepare her for the soon-to-begin Great Indian Formal Education Adventure. Then, a couple of days ago...

...The Daughter clambers up my study table, where I am sitting and working on my laptop, pokes my upper arm for attention, and asks me [speech accompanied by finger-wagging action]: "Arrrilbann, ki korrchhho?" ["Anirban <mispronounced>, what are you doing?"]

DUMBSTRUCK!!!!!!

To My Daughter On Her 2nd Birthday

Sleepless nights. Worry lines.
Grey hair. Tensed thoughts.

Kisses of unbound love. Twinkling laughter that sparkles with heaven's blessings.

Happy Birthday, my Dearest Daughter. Happy Birthday, my Angel. I wish I could tell You what an Honour, what a Divine Blessing it is to be Your Father. May Your Mother and I be blessed enough to have You as our Daughter in every life.

Love You. God bless You. Love You always.

Alas, India

"Let the House remember this. The Indian political parties and political classes do not represent the Indian masses. It is a delusion to believe that they do. I wish they did. They are not as representative of them as the movements in Britain represent the surges and impulses of the British nation. This has been proved in the war……The Congress Party declared non-co-operation with Great Britain and the Allies.……the Muslim League, sought to make a bargain about it, but no bargain was made.……Nevertheless, the only great volunteer army in the world that fought on either side in that struggle was formed in India. More than three and a half million men came forward to support the King-Emperor and the cause of Britain; they came forward not by conscription or compulsion, but out of their loyalty to Britain and to all that Britain stood for in their lives. In handing over the Government of India to these so-called political classes we are handing over to men of straw, of whom, in a few years, no trace will remain.

This Government, by their latest action, this 14 months limitation—which is what I am coming to— (will) cripple the new Viceroy and destroy the prospect of even going through the business on the agenda which has to be settled. This can only be explained as the complete adoption of one of Mr. Gandhi’s most scatterbrained observations, which I will read to the House. It was made on 24th May, 1942, after the Mission. He said: 'Leave India in God’s hands, in modem parlance, to anarchy; and that anarchy may lead to internecine warfare for a time, or to unrestricted dacoities. From these a true India will arise in place of the false one we see.' There, as far as I can see, is a statement indistinguishable from the policy His Majesty’s Government are determined to pursue."
— Sir Winston Churchill

Truer words were seldom spoken. The "men of straw" have infested this once-great land as might a demonic, inhuman entity possess a hapless soul and will not be exorcised.

Farewell, Sher Khan

"होगा मसीहा सामने तेरे फिर भी न तू बच पायेगा,
तेर अपना खून ही आखिर तुझको आग लगायेगा,
आसमान में...
आसमान मे उड़ने वाले मिट्टी में मिल जायेगा,
कसमे वादे प्यार वफ़ा सब, बातें हैं बातों का क्या..."

For once, I will leave out the AB factor. The very fact that you acted in DON and ZANJEER was reason enough to not allow them to be remade, especially if that apology for an actor, Arjun Rampal—that I should mention you and him in the same sentence is itself a travesty—was going to play JJ.

RIP, Pran Sahab. To me, you represent not only the best era of Hindi Cinema, the 1970s, but also that rare breed of actors who were as valuable, if not more, to films as the lead actors. Hats off for all the entertainment and a 100-gun salute.

The Truth About Death

"People do not die from suicides. They die from sadness."
— Anonymous

Long Live The Queen

You were 19, I was 10. Yet I could not help falling for you. Hopelessly, that too.

You taught me to fall in love with the drops of sweat that ran down that patrician nose. To pine for those firm hands that you used to wield your weapon. To admire your compass-precise grace when you accepted trophy after winner's trophy after ruthlessly vanquishing your opponents. To dream of those flowing golden tresses.

You are the reason why, despite his immense talent, I disliked your husband almost as much as I hated Monica Seles.

Happy birthday, Stefanie Maria Graf. I shall refrain from adding your other surname. I wish every man a first heartbreak as beautiful as you. Long Live The Queen.

A Dream That I Had......

After several minutes of tossing and turning, exhorting Hypnos to bless me, I slowly slip into a fitful state of unconsciousness that gradually turns into deep slumber. And while exploring the strange-normal-familiar-unknown-dark-light alleyways of my sleep world, I meet...the ethereally beautiful Charlize Theron, wearing a turquoise sari and a smile that lights up the entire room!!! And when she tells me that she is coming to India with me, I know that I was destined to have this dream.

When I wake up, after exchange of more smiles, some sweet, some coy, and promises, I realize that although it's still a 34-year-old body, the heart, at least for one day, has gone back to being an 18-year-old that believes itself to be the King of This World.

But was it Charlize I really saw? Or was it someone else??

Was it you???

Die trying

How do you liberate someone who is a prisoner of his [or her] own soul? How do you break invisible shackles that emanate from one's own heart? How do you wipe away tears that are born in one's own blood-veins?

Maybe you can't. Maybe you won't be able to, ever. But what's the harm in trying, trying and hoping that one day, the barriers will come down, the tears will stop, the shackles will break?

Just die trying. Maybe that's what you've been created for: kiss the tears away, or die trying.

Love

My Love, My Dearest Poison.

My Life, My Beautiful Death.

My Heart, My Heavenly Hell.

My Soul, My Delicious Devil.

Godless & Barren

Lack of inspiration is a lethal injection. It first numbs the mind, then kills the heart.

Lack of inspiration induces a feeling of godless existence. Then it slowly renders your emotionscape barren.

The Ballad Of The Solitary Drifter

"Loosen the grip and drift away...

Hoist anchor and sail away...

Let strangers no more hold sway...

Over you heart.

Over your blessed, lonely heart."

Sheyr-o-Shayari – 2

This new one was triggered by repeated hearings of three of my all-time favorite Kishore Kumar romantic numbers over the last 4-5 days:

1. Aankhon aankhon mein hum tum [Mahal – 1969] — Kalyanji-Anandji
2. Yeh duniya-waale poochhenge [Mahal – 1969] — Kalyanji-Anandji
3. Saawan ka maheena aa gaya [Nehle Peh Dehlaa – 1976] — RD Burman

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"Aksar raaton ko tanhaa baithe,
Tere baare mein sochtaa hoon...
Jab sannaate ki zulfon se tapakti shabnam,
Dastak dey khayaalon ki chaukhat par,
Pesh-qadmi ki ghadiyaan gintey huye,
Tera intezaar kartaa hoon.
Aksar raaton ko tanhaa baithe,
Tere baare mein sochtaa hoon."

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