One hundred sixteen moonlit nights
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The 80s is often associated with all the things that went wrong with Hindi films. Messy action and violence, aging superstars singing innuendo-heavy songs, has-beens trying to be wannabes, noisy music, poofy hair accessories, Jackie Shroff — you name an embarrassment and there it was staring back at you, in all its 70mm glory.
But to be fair, the 80s didn’t start out that way. Musically speaking, at least. The early years saw soundtracks like Umrao Jaan (1981) and Bazaar (1982). And Silsila (1981). Or an Utsav (1984) even. But things soon went downhill. Subhash Ghai patronized Lakshmi-Pyare who made up for their dwindling quality with larger orchestras and more noise. Bappi Lahiri, who was a somewhat decent composer otherwise, chose to be the disco-baadshah. And even before you fully recovered from that, the production houses of the south discovered Bappi. And the world was never the same again.
Hindi film-goers were introduced to beaches with chorus girls going taathaiyyaa taathaiyyaa hooo, while strategic crane shots showed us ample pots interspersed with even more ample heroines, offering pyaar ka tohfaas to their himmatwaalaa hero — a safedi ki chamkaar, dhulaaii ka bhandaar Jeetendra, in all his blinding white glory. The beginning of the end had surely arrived.
However, Kalyanji-Anandji did give us some hope with Yudh (1985) and Jaanbaaz (1986), bringing to light the synth talents of a young Viju Shah, much before he made news with Tridev (1989). And Rajesh Roshan gave us Kaash (1987). But these were, as they say, chamaks in the kadhaai. Popular film music was already brushing its toe dangerously close to the bucket, by now.
But a discussion of Hindi film music of the 80s is incomplete without the mention of one person. Throughout the decade, he gave consistent and quality music. This man had seen glory days in the 70s and early 80s. Big production houses, major hits, the default choice for any star son launch .. he’d had it all. By the mid-80s though, his popularity had dwindled. Producers who once lined up outside his door labeled him a flop and avoided him. The films he did compose for, were mostly duds. Badly made movies that tanked, taking many a wonderful soundtrack down with them.
The year was 1987. Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak (1988), the movie that many credit with resurrecting Hindi film music, hadn’t arrived yet. The Tere Sar Ke Tukde Tukde Kar Ke Kutte Ko Khila Ke Uska Khoon Pee Jaoonga brand of movies were rampant. But in the middle of this mindlessness, came a tender film that brought together a sensitive filmmaker and his musician best friend, once again. Director Gulzar and music director Rahul Dev Burman who began their journey with Parichay (1972), and touched upon movies like Aandhi (1975), Khushboo (1975), Kinara (1977), Kitaab (1977), Angoor (1982) and Namkeen (1982), culminated their artistic relationship in a beautiful, complex and layered film — Ijaazat (1987).
On a rainy night, Mahen unexpectedly runs into his ex-wife Sudha at a railway station waiting room. Two people unwillingly thrown in each other’s company, compelled to revisit a part of their life they have chosen to forget. The relationship has changed, the rules have changed. And the past becomes an intangible third person in the room, much like Maya was in their life. But where is Maya now?
Using his trademark of weaving the past with the present, Gulzar takes us back and forth between the waiting room and their home in the past. (a home, that Mahen remarks, was much like a waiting room.) And the complexities start to unravel. Maya’s free-spiritedness, Sudha’s conflict between being supportive and being possessive, Mahen’s inability to get past his memories but still wanting to keep Sudha happy — the characters become relatable and their dilemmas become real. And as with most of life’s dilemmas, there are no simple answers, no easy solutions.
In a way, Ijaazat is a simple story about three people, two relationships and one night. But it derives its depth from its complex characterizations. Its strength lies in its screenplay and dialogues by Gulzar and its moody cinematography by Ashok Mehta. And in the strong performances of its three leads — Rekha, Naseeruddin Shah and Anuradha Patel.
And of course, in its music. Ijaazat is inarguably one of the finest of Pancham’s oeuvre. Four gorgeous solos, exquisitely crafted by RDB and lovingly sung by Asha with layered poetry by Gulzar that once again show the symbiotic relationship that the three shared. One realizes at such moments, that the whole sometimes is truly greater than the sum of its parts.
Chhotisii kahaanii se, baarishon ke paanii se, saarii vaadii bhar gayii .. sings Asha, as we follow a train’s journey through rain-drenched valleys and mist-covered mountains, while the titles roll. The music is so delightfully visual that one doesn’t need the lyrics to see the scene. The steady rhythm of the train, the sound of the rain slowing down to a drizzle, only to burst into a gleeful downpour once again, a waterfall that cascades grandly or a little brook that plays peek-a-boo .. the images are created by the music, but the on-screen visuals and the lyrics enhance the experience. Gulzar personifies the rain, making it dance lightly, using the clouds as stepping stones —
ruktii hai thhamtii hai, kabhii barastii hai
baadal pe paaon rakh ke, baarish machaltii hai ..
Pancham always claimed to not having an ear for poetry. Seeing the kind of magic he has created with Gulzar’s pen, one wonders if he was just being self-deprecatory. When Sudha sends back some of Maya’s belongings, Maya wants her memories back as well. A song whose lyrics Pancham jokingly described as akin to reading a newspaper. Asha’s voice languidly caresses every word, as she plaintively at times and retrospectively at other times, asks him to return the moments that they’ve shared. Meraa kuchh saamaan tumhaare paas padaa hai ..
meraa kuchh saamaan tumhaare paas padaa hai
saawan ke kuchh bheege bheege din rakhhe hain
aur mere ik khat mein liptii raat padii hai
vo raat bujhaa do
meraa vo saamaan lautaa do ..
ek sau solah chaand kii raatein, ek tumhaare kaandhe kaa til ..
What does that even mean? asked a friend. One hundred sixteen moonlit nights, and one sesame of onion, I replied. Wise friend has promised to never ask us to interpret Gulzar lyrics again. But perhaps it is a count of nights spent together? Or maybe a four month relationship? (One hundred sixteen moonlit nights would be one hundred twenty days minus the four amaavasyas?) White on black and black on white? Contrasts to indicate the gamut of emotions felt? With Gulzar, so many interpretations are possible. But whatever the intended meaning, the imagery is subtly sensual and so very beautiful.
Mahen and Sudha go on their honeymoon, to make a fresh start. Which sets the scene for the next song. Katraa katraa miltii hai, katraa katraa jeene do .. Pancham uses the twin track recording effect beautifully in this number, overlapping Asha’s highs and lows. The locales of Kudremukh form a gorgeous backdrop as Asha’s silken voice hit the high notes of pyaasii hoon main pyaasii rehne do. Her thirst for more is not a complaint. She knows she cannot have Mahen completely, but in her very longing for him, she tries to find happiness.
tumne to aakaash bichaayaa
mere nange pairon mein zameen hai
paake bhii tumhaarii aarzuu ho
shaayad aise zindagii haseen hai
aarzuu mein behne do
pyaasii hoon main pyaasii rehne do ..
But Sudha’s longing remains unfulfilled. Mahen is unable to remove Maya from his life and Sudha is tired of being patient. In these moments of despair, comes the fourth and final song of the movie, a ghazal. Khaalii haath shaam aayii hai, khaalii haath jayegii, aaj bhi na aaya koii, khaalii laut jayegii .. The pain in Asha’s voice is palpable as Sudha sits waiting in the darkness, watching the light come in through the slightly ajar door, a constant reminder that Mahen is not back ..
aaj bhii na aaye aansuu, aaj bhii na bhiige nainaa
aaj bhii ye korii rainaa, korii laut jaayegii ..
Memories are heavy baggage and burying them is the healthy thing to do. But will denying the existence of memories make them go away? Or is it better to embrace them? As Sudha remarks to Mahen, looking at the rain that refuses to stop — baras jaayegii to apne aap thham jayegii. Perhaps memories too are like that. They flood you for a while, but with time, they cease. Then again, memories get their well-deserved burial only at the end of one’s life. As Maya requests Mahen at the end of her letter —
Tags: Mediumek ijaazat de do bas, jab isko dafnaauungi
main bhii vahii so jauungii .. main bhii vahii so jauungii ..
Anurag Kashyap
Abhay Deol
Dibakar Banerjee
Hansal Mehta
Khalid Mohamed
Kundan Shah
Anish Kuruvilla
Jaideep Verma
Manish Gupta
Navdeep Singh
Bhavani Iyer
D. Santosh
Onir
Ashvin Kumar
Ramu Ramanathan
Sudhir Mishra
Pankaj Advani
Revathy
Saurabh Shukla
Shilpa Shukla
Sujoy Ghosh
Suparn Verma
Santosh Sivan
Shashank Ghosh
Shivajee
Pavan Kaul
Partho Sen-Gupta
Prroshant Naryannan
Sam Langoria
Satish Kasetty
Wow! What a start! And welcome to PFC Megha!
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Megha – sahiiiiiiii. A very nostalgic post. Reminds me of the good old days when Gulzar-Pancham used to run in an infinite loop in my tape recorder.
The pics and music links were an added bonus :-)
The twin track recording was also used in a cabaret song from Jewel Thief (music – SD Burman). I think that was probably the first time ever (correct me if I’m wrong) that it was used in hindi films.
My fav is always – katra katra and Mera kuch Saaman.
I distinctly remember my younger brother asking me about Mera kuch saaman – “Yeh kaisa Coolie-uon waala gaana hai ?????” and of course me threatening to beat him up :-D
Welcome to PFC Megha. Looking forward to more musical posts from you
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During my Engg. days,ek baar main apne dost ke saath baitha hua sutta maar raha tha aur p.c me Ijaazat ka “mera kuch saaman” chal raha tha aur maine apne friend se request kiya ki is gaane ko ‘dhyan’ se sune.Us bechare ne 1-2 minute tak apna full dimag laga ke suna aur uske baad khada hoke chilaya “main is gulzar ki M** C*** dunga saale ne ye gaana ganja maar ke likha hai,mere ko is gaane me kuch bhi samaj nahi aaya” :d:d:d:d
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KK…
Mera bhi kuch samaan tumhaare pass pada hain usse jara vikhroli main aa ke aakarshan main please lauta do…
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Btw…
Shabbash Megha, Shabbash… LOL… welcome aboard…
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in PFC we hav talked much of the movie “izaazat” but this came as beautifully as the rain soaked mumbai….though i respect Gulzar sahab as a director but it’s my gut feel that ijaazat could b made better…gulzar sahab has poured overdose of poetry..rains ..ambience…also there is probplems in the intercuting of the scenes…like the scene when the lights of the waiting room goes off..al of a sudden…the moment was beautiful but for that moment i think gulzar sahab has underestimate the story telling…he has so affection towards his literature..that he couldn’t treat the movie well…veteran ashok mehta captured the nature minutely but could not capture the moments like his another movie..”aandhi”…the next is performance…if i would b the casting director of the movie..i wud hav not cast nasser sahab…rather i wud go for amitabh bachan…i don’t find any reasons y Maya loves mahndra so much..no personality..nor he is so rich…here the problem lies…Amitabh could do the emagic.. n it might b a gr8 chemistry with rekha..n maya..maya could love amitabh but not naseer..it’s not the acting capabilities it’s only screen presence…n GUlzar sahab could not translate into a cinematic language..
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One hundred sixteen moonlit nights, and one sesame of onion
:d
I would like to add more embarrassments to that list.
Movies that had Dog, Monkey, Snake, Eagle, cow
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fantabulous megha!!…got a bit nostalgic after reading ur post…wen i was in radio tab we had produced a radio show based on this film(which was a fav of the entire team)…all of us had enjoyed every bit of it…our scriptwriter Shilpa had written a fantabulous script…we wanted to interview Gulzaar Saab but unfortunately he was not in town…phir Asha Bhosle bhi available nahin thi…. aur deadline ke chakkar mein finally we interviewed Shreya Ghoshal(she idolises Asha Bhosle)…we deliberately made her sing ‘Mera Kuch Saaman’ ……kaafi theek hi gaaya tha kuch logon ke mutaabik….ha ha ha ha
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Nice post, Megha! Lot of people are going to kick me for saying this — I have not seen Ijaazat till now (I have heard the songs numerous times though).
But your post makes me want to see it, so beautifully was it written. Off I go hunting for the DVD.
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megha,
the pancham-gulzar combo rocks! ijazaat is one of my favourite album..”mera kuch samaan” is super brilliant!
had read an interview of asha bhonsale in which she had talked about “mera kuch samaan”..it seems when gulzar came to pancham with the songs lyrics, pancham just kept staring at the lyrics and then turned to gulzar and angrily said “yeh kya bakwas hai?? kal tu mere paas TIMES OF INDIA newspaper lekar aayega aur kahega iska gaana compose karo!!..but finally RD composed it like a true genius..
an aRDent fan of pancham,
saahil
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“one sesame of onion”?:d You aren’t serious, are you? I always interpreted it as “til on Nasser’s shoulder”.
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megha,in mumbai rains this comes as a relief..a trip down the memory lane..kudremukh..deserted platform..and the echo of chhoti si kahani mein..baarishon ke paani mein..you bring all that back like a magician..simply wonderful!
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Thank you Megha for a wonderfully written post.
Its brought back memories. I remember being maybe 18-19 years old working for a local radio station. It was a quiet Sunday night, I was hosting a hindi-request show and was all alone. As we did from time to time we opted for “classic song requests only”, no new music.
A caller requested “Mera Kuchh Samaan” from Ijazaat. I had heard the song a few times before, though as I was young never fully grasped its emotional depth nor its subtle lyrical beauty. After a commercial break I played the song straightaway, without announcement. I sat as if introspecting and became so lost in the song that I had not queued up another song.
At the conclusion of the song I paused the cassette and basically just read the credits for the song, and then lied saying that a different caller had asked for another song also from Ijazaat. I released the pause button…
“Khaali haath shaam aayi hai,
khaali haath jayegi,
aaj bhi na aaya koi,
khaali laut jayegi..”
I had nothing to be sad about, yet I became quite emotional during the 2nd track, such was the effect of listening to these two soulful songs back to back that quiet night of solitude.
Thanks for reviving such a precious memory…
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yes ankit i am totally agree with you.
“ek sau solah chaand kii raatein, ek tumhaare kaandhe kaa til ..”
as megha translation “One hundred sixteen moonlit nights, and one sesame of onion,”
I also interpreted last half as it as
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Touche ankit and shatru. It is a mole on naseers shoulder. I have no idea why megha thinks of it as a ’sesame of an onion’ ? ok..she’s taken til as sesame but how the hell does kaandhe become onion? Megha , care to explain?
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hey!! the article started as a general take on the music of the 80s and then turned into the music review of ‘Ijaazat’. If it were just that, then the prologue was a bit too long, wasn’t it? or if you had then reverted back to the general view on the music of 80s then it would have had a head, body and conclusion that were in sync. As it looks now, i think it would make two good, separate posts. On a different note, music for us means songs, right? no discussions on the background music to set the mood of the proceedings in the moive and all that sort of things.
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Truly admire gulzar saab and QSQT..
Gazab ka hai din..
aai mere humsafar..and
papa kahte hai..bada naam karega..beta humara..!
Akele hai to kya gam hai..chahe to hamare bass main kya nahi…bass ek jara saath ho tera..now i realized these were my all time favorite.. leaving right now to have qayamat se qayamat tak record..ab ye nahi sapna ye sab hai apna..:)
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Thank you all for your wonderful words!
Now for some desperately needed clarification before things get even more out of hand – The sesame on onion translation was a PJ
Please please stop correcting me. It wasn’t an actual interpretation. It was a silly translation. Laugh. Groan, if you must. But please don’t take my silliness so seriously. It is most depressing 
Kaanda is onion in Marathi and Bambaiyya Hindi. Therefore kaandhe ka til became sesame of onion.
Plus, kaandhe pe til is one of the most basic of Hindi movie twin separation fundas, made even more famous by movies like Angoor (1982). I even followed up the sesame on onion bit by explaining that the friend was wise enough to never ask me to interpret Gulzar ever again. I also mentioned ‘white on black’ (moon against a black sky) and ‘black on white’ (black til against his fair skin). Then how people? How did you ignore my PJ? Tsk tsk.
But silliness apart, you guys are most kind and generous with your praise. It is a pleasure to be writing here and you just made it even better with your warm welcome! Thank you so much for that. I look forward to writing on PFC more often
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…..superb……
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Beautifully written Megha, will wait to read from you again
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a worth read! As you mentioned Gulzars lyrics can be interpreted in many ways… but should convey the same meaning, surely with varied emphasising levels.
Mera Kuch Saman is a song which i am practically experiencing in my life and my emotions knows it.
coming to point …
One hundred sixteen moonlit nights, and one sesame of onion is not what is conveyed.
As per Hindu beliefs, there is a astonishing nites where mooon shapes up over 116 nites. People die to see the moon’s cresent shaping. Maya is expressing that it worth looking at your Shoulder Mole rather than watching moon.
And why its shoulder??? Maybe she is relating it to the best time of her life when she made love to Mahen.
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Meghaji,
Thanks for the article on Izajat. It’s my favourite. In fact, we friends were so impressed with the film that on the basis of a solo dialogue in the film (“pichhli dafa hum jab Kudremukh gaye the”)we started our search for the place called Kudremukh and were lucky to reach the locales of the song ” katra katra milti hai “. Hundreds of photos were clicked.The spot was so muddy and the path leading to it so narrow that we visualised that Rekha must have been taken there in a doli to shoot the sequence. i went there many times later. But now the beautiful spot has vanished under the debris of waste soil of the iron ores of Kudremukh Iron Ore Company Ltd. Anyway, thanks for the nostalgia.
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thats a beautiful beautiful post.. i wondered if another person would ever understand the movie, the songs,the lyrics, gulzar and burman so beautifully and so poetically!.. i feel reassured that youre out there in the world..
thank you for summing this up so wonderfully!
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