Anuradha Patel plays an impetuous and free-spirited woman who haunts her former lover and his current wife with her gift for poetry in Ijaazat (1987).

Released in 1987, Gulzar’s Ijaazat starring Naseeruddin Shah, Rekha, and Anuradha Patel is a film that falls outside of the time period traditionally associated with the “Golden Era” of Hindi cinema. Although we tend to feature films from the 1950s-1970s on this blog, an exception must be made for this film because of its timeless soundtrack composed by R.D. Burman, penned by Gulzar, and sung by Asha Bhonsle. Today, we present the lyrics and English translation to an ever-haunting gem from Ijaazat (1987): meraa kuchh saamaan. 

Based on the Bengali story Jatugriha by Subodh Ghosh, this film presents the classic love triangle trope often used to excess in Bollywood in a refreshingly subtle and poignant manner that reflects the high caliber of Gulzar’s artistry as a poet-turned-director. The story in this film revolves around the relationships among three main characters: Mahinder (Naseeruddin Shah), Sudha (Rekha), and Maya (Anuradha Patel). Mahinder, a young photographer, has been engaged to his childhood friend Sudha for five years in an arrangement made by his grandfather (Shammi Kapoor). In spite of this arrangement, Mahinder falls passionately in love with the impulsive and free-spirited Maya, but he is too afraid to confide the truth to his grandfather. When pressured to go through with the wedding, the conflicted Mahinder reveals his true feelings to Sudha. However, when Maya suddenly disappears from his life, Mahinder decides to honor his grandfather’s wishes and marries Sudha after all. Even at the end of the film, a lingering question remains: why would Sudha agree to marry a husband who did not truly love her?

Rekha offers an understated performance as a vulnerable wife forced to grapple with her husband’s history with an ex-lover and its devastating effects on their marriage in Ijaazat (1987)

As the companionship between Sudha and Mahinder begins to grow, the underlying presence of Maya as an unwanted third party in their marriage inevitably leads to marital discord. Mahinder’s unresolved feelings for Maya and Sudha’s awareness of these feelings gradually creates tension that escalates once Maya re-appears in their lives and rekindles a friendship with Mahinder through letters, phone calls, and poems. Mahinder indulges Maya’s attention-seeking actions at each opportunity, deepening the rift that already exists between him and his wife. Despite many efforts to adjust to the very tangible presence of Maya in their lives, Sudha comes to realize that she will never be able to live happily with Mahinder and decides to walk away from her marriage. The turmoil and tragedy of this film goes on to culminate in a conclusion that is surprisingly positive and heart-warming–without completely spoiling the ending here, I will just say that fans of Shashi Kapoor will not be disappointed!

In spite of its portrayal of a relatively ordinary story, Ijazaat stands out from other films in the same vein because of its evocative dialogues, nuanced character development, and, of course, the beautiful music and poetry found in its soundtrack. In the context of the film, meraa kuchh saamaan is a poem addressed to Mahinder from Maya that captures the essence of their troubled relationship with remarkable finesse and sophistication. In this poem, Maya asks Mahinder to return her things back to her–these requests are not for the return of physical objects but rather for memories of their time spent together. Gulzar’s evocative poetry in an unusual free verse format earned him the National Film Award and Filmfare Award for Best Lyricist in 1988, while Asha Bhonsle won the National Film Award for Best Female Playback Singer for her soulful rendition of this song.

Anuradha Patel’s character is unique to the version of Jatugriha that is presented in Ijaazat (1987), as the original story depicted the woes of a troubled marriage between a husband and wife without the “other woman” character.

Those of you familiar with this classic already may have wondered why Gulzar chose to use the number 116 in the last stanza of this song to describes the number of moonlit nights spent together by the protagonists. Some have suggested that 116 nights may indicate that Maya and Mahinder were involved in a relationship four months in duration (with four new moons), while others have suggested it is a reference to the number of phases of the moon found in ancient Indian literature. Interestingly, when asked in an interview about the interpretation of this number, Gulzar said: “It’s not the number which is important, it’s important that somebody kept the count of the moonlit nights of which they spent together.”  This number went on to carry special significance for Gulzar as he recounts in a 2005 interview that he has written lyrics for exactly 116 of R.D. Burman’s songs during his career. 

Lyrics and Translation:

mera kuchh saamaan tumhare paas paDaa hai
Some of my belongings remain with you.
saavan ke kuchh bhiige bhiige din rakhe hai.n
A few wet monsoon days,
aur mere ek khat me.n lipaTii raat paDii hai
and a night folded into one of my letters.
voh raat bujhaa do, meraa voh saamaan lauTaa do
Extinguish that night, and return my things to me.

patjhaD hai kuchh, hai na?
It was autumn then, no?
patjhaD me.n kuchh patto.n kii girane kii aahaT
The rustling whispers of leaves falling in autumn.
kaano.n me.n ek baar pahan ke lauT aayii thii
I had brought back those whispers once by wearing them as earrings.
patjhaD kii voh shaakh abhii tak kaa.np rahii hai
A branch of autumn still trembles in the breeze.
voh shaakh giraa do, meraa voh saamaan lauTaa do
Make that branch fall down, and return my things to me.

ek akelii chhatrii me.n jo aadhe-aadhe bhiig rahe the
When we both became drenched in the rain under a single umbrella,
aadhe giile aadhe sukhe, sukhaa to mai.n le aayii thii
half of our things became wet. I had brought the dry half back with me that day.
giilaa man shayad bistar ke paas paDaa ho
But perhaps my drenched heart remained next to the bed.
voh bhijvaa do, meraa voh saamaan lauTaa do
Send that back, and return my things to me.

ek sau solaah chaa.nd kii raate.n, ek tumhaare kaa.ndhe kaa til
One hundred and sixteen moonlit nights, and the single mole on your shoulder.
giillii maha.ndii kii khushbuu, jhuuTh-muuTh ke shikve kuchh
The fragrance of wet henna, and some fake tantrums.
jhuuTh-muuTh ke vaade bhii sab yaad karaa duu.n?
Shall I remind you of all the false promises too?
sab bhijvaa do, meraa voh saamaan lauTaa do
Send all of them back, and return my things to me.

ek ijaazat de do bas, jab isko dafnaauu.ngii
When I bury these these things, just grant me the permission
mai.n bhii vahii.n so jaauu.ngii
To lay myself to sleep among them.
mai.n bhii vahii.n so jaauu.ngii
To lay myself to sleep among them.

Glossary

saamaan: belongings, things; saavan: monsoon; bhiigaa: drenched, wet; khat: letter; lipaTnaa: to wrap, fold; bujhaa denaa: to extinguish; lauTaa denaa: to return; patjhaD: autumn; pattaa: leaf; giranaa: to fall; aahaT: whisper, faint noise; pahanna: to wear; shaakh: branch; giraa denaa: to make something fall; chhatrii: umbrella; aadhaa: half; giilaa: wet; sukhaa: dry; bistar: bed; bhijvaanaa: to have something sent; ek sau solaah: 116; kaa.ndh: shoulder; til: mole; maha.ndii: henna: khushbuu: fragrance; jhuuTh-muuTh: fake, false; shikvaa: complaint, tantrum; vaadaa: promise: yaad karaa denaa: to remind; ijaazat: permission; dafnaanaa: to bury: so jaanaa: to sleep.

In 2005, Asha Bhonsle in collaboration with the Kronos Quartet reprised several of her old songs as a tribute to her late husband R.D. Burman in the album You’ve Stolen My Heart: Songs from R.D. Burman’s Bollywood. In recognition of her work on this album, Asha received her second Grammy nomination in the category of Best Contemporary World Music. When asked to name her favorite song from the album, she said it was meraa kuchh saamaan because it “is very close to my heart as it transports me back into time when I was with Pancham.” (Source).

 -Mr. 55

As Dev Anand croons “Shokhiyon Mein Ghola Jaaye” in Prem Pujari (1970), Waheeda Rehman makes even chomping raw sugarcane look attractive.

Today we present the lyrics and English translation of the evergreen duet “Shokhiyon Mein Ghola Jaaye” from Prem Pujari (1970). There could be no better song to welcome the change of seasons than this sweet exploration of the meaning of love…and of a haystack maze. Dev Anand plays a peace-loving son of a veteran who would rather be catching butterflies and whispering words of love to his fiancee, Waheeda Rehman, than holding a gun. However, when war breaks out, he is forced to reconcile his rosy temperament with patriotic duty, ultimately becoming a double spy for India at the expense of his family and loved ones.

But before these complexities of the spirit arise, Waheeda Rehman and Dev Anand spend a few moments blissfully unaware of the perils ahead, playing hide-and-go-seek together like any fully-grown adults in love would do. Their delightful escapades among the haystacks are second only to the passionate Bollywood thrills of running around a tree. I’m a huge sucker for nature-themed flirtation in Hindi films. In “Shokhiyon Mein Ghola Jaaye,” the camera surges between haystacks on a dolly track like a sheep on the loose, anticipating every peekaboo moment of Dev Anand poking his head through the straw or tracing Waheeda’s bright red chunni across the hay to victory. And don’t miss the special moment as they are just about to kiss each other when the camera suddenly cuts to a completely random shot of a raging fire followed by a shot of a gushing water stream. Try to make sense of that adorably antagonistic symbolism, just try. Fortunately, S.D. Burman’s musical genius provides exactly the rip-roaring crescendo we needed to seam all the pieces together.

Gopal Das Neeraj’s poem was originally written as “Chandnii Mei.N Ghola Jaaye,” however Dev Anand wanted to picturize the song during daylight and hence the lyrics were changed. Lata Mangeshkar’s celestial voice is at such a peak in this song, it will make you question her divinity. Kishore Kumar balances her angelic vocals with manly aplomb, helping us gloss past the rough patches caused by Dev Anand’s crimson blazer and matching butterfly net.

Forgetting that sound travels, Waheeda Rehman sings while playfully climbing up a haystack to hide from her lover in Prem Pujari (1970).

Doesn’t this all just make you crave a pumpkin spice latte? We tragically don’t have sugarcane fields in my town, but I hope you enjoy our translation of this charming Autumn ballad and feel inspired to hit your nearest corn maze, apple orchard, or petting zoo with the one you love. Watch the video on youtube here and follow along with our lyrics and English translation below!

Shokhiyon Mein Ghola Jaaye Lyrics and Translation:

KISHORE: Shokhiyo.N mei.N gholaa jaaye, phoolo.N kaa shabaab
Take a swirl of mischievousness, and the youthfulness of flowers
Us mei.N phir milaaii jaaye thoDii sii sharaab
In those mix in a little bit of wine
Hogaa yuu.N nashaa jo taiyyaar
The intoxication you create like this
Haa.N , hogaa yuu.N nashaa jo taiyyaar, woh pyaar hai
Yes, the intoxication you create like this is love
Shokhiyo.N mei.N gholaa jaaye, phoolo.N kaa shabaab…

KISHORE: Hey hey, hey hey, hey hey, hey hey!

LATA: Ha.Nstaa huaa bachpan woh, bahakaa huaa mausam hai
It is a childhood of laughter, it is a deceptive atmosphere
ChheDo to ek sholaa hai, chhuu lo to bas shabnam hai
It teases you like an ember, but when it touches you, it feels like a dewdrop
Gaao.N mei.N, mele mei.N, raah mei.N, akele mei.N
Whether in a village or in a fair, whether upon a street or by yourself
Aataa jo yaad baar baar, woh pyaar hai
That memory that comes to you all the time is love
Shokhiyo.N mei.N gholaa jaaye, phoolo.N kaa shabaab…

LATA: Oh, la la, la la la, la la la, ah…

KISHORE: Rang mei.N pighale sonaa, ang se yuu.N ras chhalke
It is the color of liquid gold, nectar flows from its body
Jaise baje dhun koi raat mei.N halke halke
It is as if a melody is played softly at night
Dhuup mei.N, chhaao.N mei.N, jhuumtii hawaao.N mei.N
In the sunlight, in the shadows, in the playful winds
Har dam kare jo intezaar, woh pyaar hai
That which waits for you every moment is love
Shokhiyo.N mei.N gholaa jaaye, phoolo.N kaa shabaab…

KISHORE: Yaad agar woh aaye…
If you remember your love…
LATA: Oh, yaad agar woh aaye, aise kaTe tanhaaii
Oh, if you remember your love, then loneliness is eased
Suune sheher mei.N jaise bajne lage shahanaai
As if in an empty city, wedding music begins to play
KISHORE: Yaad agar woh aaye, aise kaTe tanahaai
If you remember your love, then loneliness is eased
Suune shahar mei.N jaise bajane lage shahanaai
As if in an empty city, wedding music begins to play
BOTH: Aanaa ho, jaanaa ho, jaisaa bhii zamaanaa ho
Whether you are coming or leaving, however the world may be
Utare kabhii naa jo khumaar, woh pyaar hai
That feeling of intoxication which never lifts is love

BOTH: Shokhiyo.N mei.N gholaa jaaye, phoolo.N kaa shabaab
Take a swirl of mischeviousness, and the youthfulness of flowers
Us mei.N phir milaaii jaaye thoDii sii sharaab
In those mix in a little bit of wine
KISHORE: Hogaa yuu.N nashaa jo taiyyaar
The intoxication you create like this
LATA: Woh pyaar hai
That is love
BOTH: Shokhiyo.N mei.N gholaa jaaye, phoolo.N kaa shabaab…

Glossary:

Shokh: mischievousness, prank; gholaa: solution, swirl; phool: flower, shabaab: youthfulness; thoDii sii: a little bit; sharaab: alcohol; nashaa: intoxication; taiyyaar: ready; ha.Nsnaa: to laugh; bachpan: childhood; bakahnaa: to deceive; mausam: season, atmosphere; chheDnaa: to tease; sholaa: ember; chhuunaa: to touch; shabnam: dewdrop; gaao.N: village; melaa: fair; raah: path; akelaa: alone; yaad: memory; baar baar: time to time, often; rang: color; phigalnaa: to flow, to liquify; sonaa: gold; ang: body; ras: nectar; dhun: tune, melody; raat: night; halkaa: soft; dhuup: sunlight: chaao.N: shadow, cloud; jhoomnaa: to swing; hawaa: wind; har dam: every moment; intezaar: wait; kaTnaa: to be cut; tanhaaii: loneliness; suunaa: lonely, empty; sheher: city; bajnaa: to play [an instrument]; shahanaaii: traditional wind instrument played at weddings; zamaanaa: world, earth; utarnaa: to lift, to raise; khumaar: state of intoxication

Perched on an excessively romantic pile of hay, Dev Anand presses his nose affectionately to Waheeda Rehman’s ear in Prem Pujari (1970). Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?

This lovely duet was requested by fan Roshan Sadanani. Thank you for the excellent suggestion, and keep the requests coming! For more on-screen magic between Dev Anand and Waheeda Rehman, check out our translations of “Na Tum Humen Jano,” “Hai Apna Dil To Awaraa,” and “Khoya Khoya Chand!”

-Mrs. 55

As many of our readers may already be aware, today marks the 86th birthday of melody queen Lata Mangeshkar. In commemoration of this special day, we would like to present the lyrics and English translation to one of the most exquisitely beautiful songs sung by the Nightingale of India during her long and illustrious career: ai dil-e-naadaa.n from Razia Sultan (1983).

Hema Malini stars as a 13th century empress of Delhi in Razia Sultan (1983)

Directed by Kamal Amrohi (of Mahal and Pakeezah fame), Razia Sultan narrates the story of the only woman to ascend the throne of Delhi and her alleged love affair with Abyssinian slave-turned-warrior Jaml-ud-Din Yaqut. Hema Malini stars in the title role, while her real-life beau Dharmendra plays the role of her love interest Yaqut. When Sultan Altamash decides that his beloved daughter Razia shall be the successor to his throne instead of his trouble-making son Ferozshah, the kingdom erupts in an uproar over the possibility of being ruled by a woman. After her father’s passing, Razia proves herself to be a compassionate and brave ruler who leads with an eye toward justice like her late father. Over time, Razia is accepted as the first female emperor of the kingdom until gossip spreads among the royal court about an affair between Razia and her former slave Yaqut. Although Yaqut is now a free man and army commander, the relationship between him and the empress is highly scandalous due to his roots as a dark-skinned African slave. When this controversy reaches its peak, Razia must make a choice between her kingdom and her love. In the end, in true Bollywood style, Razia makes the ultimate sacrifice for her love.

Although this film had the potential to provide a compelling view on the complexities of race and gender politics, it fails to meet the mark in many respects and was unable to achieve commercial success at the time of its release. It is likely that the heavy-handed use of formal Urdu made it difficult for audiences to understand many parts of the film’s dialogue. The pace drags in many scenes, and the starring duo provide few memorable moments throughout the film. Those familiar with this period of history will also note that many liberties were taken to create a fictionalized narrative suitable for presentation in a Bollywood movie.

The aspect in which director Kamal Amrohi has shined, as he has done in his previous productions, is in the selection of the music for the film’s soundtrack. Khayyam’s sublime and minimalistic compositions come together with Jaan Nisar Akhtar’s reticent yet expressive poetry to create a memorable album that is probably the single most redeeming quality of Razia Sultan. The crowning jewel of this soundtrack is ai dil-e-nadaa.n rendered flawlessly by the inimitable Lata Mangeshkar. Her voice captures the mysticism and tranquility of the poetry with remarkable ease. Jaan Nisar Akhtar’s poetry is beautiful in its simplicity as it probes the nature of human desire and the inevitable suffering that it causes. No discussion of this song would be complete without mention of the santoor interludes interspersed with moments of silence, which provide gentle accompaniment to the serenity evoked by Akhtar’s words and Lata’s ethereal voice.

The elaborate costumes and sets used to shoot Razia Sultan (1983) make it one of the most expensive productions of its time. [Source]

Khayyam explains how he was inspired by the story of Razia Sultan during the composition of ai dil-e-naadaa.n: “

The caravan of Razia Sultan came to India from Turkey through a long and tortuous route traversing many countries. If you listen carefully, the tune and orchestration reflects the musical influences of all the regions she traveled across. The song is about the duel in her mind- the woman inside her is deeply in love with a black slave but the princess inside her is all too aware of her duty. The song depicts that dilemma in her mind. [Source]

Lata Mangeshkar has always ranked this song has one of the best of her career and included it in her An Era in An Evening concert that took place in Mumbai in March 1997 (see link above). In her own words, she says:

“Khayyam’s ai dil-e-naadaa.n from Razia Sultan is among the best songs I’ve sung. The way Kamal (Amrohi)-saab explained it to me,  I could actually visualise the situation. I was very satisfied by the way I rendered the number. Kamal-saab found my Urdu pronunciation clear and chaste. The lyrics of ai dil-e-naadaa.n written by Javed Akhtar’s father Jaan Nisar Akhtar, were inspiring. I have sung several songs written by him.” [Source]

Are you wondering why Lata’s voice sounds so heavenly in this song even though it was past its prime at the time of the film’s release in 1983? That’s because Khayyam had this song recorded by Lata nine years earlier in 1974. After just two rehearsals, she had recorded the entire song in one take! Khayyam recollects how the popularity of this song helped him be selected as the music director for other major films in the 1970s like Kabhie Kabhie (1976):

“Actually the reason, I got Kabhie Kabhie was the song ai dil-e-naadaa.n. For Razia Sultan, I had recorded Lata-ji’s ai dil-e-naadaa.n and also Qabban Mirza’s aayii zanjiir kii jhankaar as early as in 1974. ai dil-e-naadaa.n had then created such a stir that practically everyone in the film industry was talking about that song. That fame had reached to Yash Chopra and one evening, when I returned after a Razia Sultan sitting at Kamaalistan, I found Yash-ji and Sahir-saab waiting for me. They told me that they were making a film about a love-story of a poet and they wanted me as a composer. I immediately said, ‘Yes’.” [Source]

In spite of a solid portrayal of the lead character by Hema Malini, Razia Sultan (1983) failed to achieve success at the box office. [Source]

Aye Dil-E-Nadaan Lyrics and Translation:

ai dil-e-naadaan
Oh, my naive heart!
aarzuu kyaa hai? justujuu kyaa hai?
What do you desire? What do you seek?

ham bhaTakte hai.n, kyo.n bhaTakate hai.n dasht-o-sehraa me.n?
Why do I wander alone in this deserted wilderness?
aisaa lagtaa hai mauj pyaasii hai apne dariyaa me.n
It seems as if I am a wave thirsty for water in its own river.
kaisii uljhan hai? kyo.n yeh uljhan hai?
What is this turmoil? Why is there this turmoil?
ek saayaa-saa ruuh-ba-ruuh kyaa hai?
What is this shadow that stands face-to-face before me?

kyaa qayaamat hai! kyaa musiibat hai!
What a disaster! What misfortune!
keh nahii.n sakte kiskaa armaa.n hai
I am unable to say whom it is that I desire.
zindagii jaise khoyii-khoyii hai, hairaa.n-hairaa.n hai
It seems as if my life itself is lost and confused.
yeh zamii.n chup hai, aasmaa.n chup hai
The earth lies quietly, while the sky remains in silence.
phir yeh dhaDkan-sii chaar-suu kyaa hai?
Yet, what pulsates around me in every direction?

ai dil-e-nadaan aisii raaho.n me.n kitne kaa.nTe hai.n
Oh, my naive heart! There are many thorns along the path of love.
aarzuuo.n ne har kisii dil ko dard baa.nTe hai.n
The pursuit of desires has given pain to every heart.
kitne ghayal hai.n, kitne bismil hai.n
Many hearts are wounded; many hearts are sacrificed.
is khudaayii me.n ek tuu kyaa hai?
In the face of divinity, who are you alone?

ek tuu kyaa hai, ek tuu kyaa hai?
Who are you alone?
ai dil-e-naadaan, ai dil-e-nadaa.n
Oh, my naive heart!

Glossary:

naadaa.n: naive, foolish; aarzuu: desire; justujuu: search, pursuit; bhaTaknaa: to wander; dasht: desert; sehraa: wilderness; mauj: wave; pyaasii: thirsty; dariyaa: river; uljhan: turmoil, confusion; saayaa: shadow; ruuh-ba-ruuh: face-to-face; qayaamat: disaster, crisis, Day of Judgment: musiibat: misfortune; armaa.n: desire, hope; khoyii: lost; hairaa.n: confused, distressed; zamii.n: earth, land; chup: quiet, silent; aasmaa.n: sky; dhaDkan: pulse, heartbeat; chaar-suu: all around, in all four directions; raah: path; kaa.nTe: thorns; dard: pain; baa.nTnaa: to allocate, to distribute; ghayal: wounded; bismil: wounded, sacrificed; khudaayii: divinity, world.

The use of the word bismil adds a unique spiritual dimension to the lyrics of this song. Bismil means wounded or sacrificed and originates from the Islamic ritual of sacrificing animals as an offering while uttering bismillah (in the name of God).

-Mr. 55

Intimate scenes between Hema Malini and Parveen Babi (particularly during the song khvab ban kar koii aayegaa) sparked some controversy at the time of this film’s release. [Source]

Minoo Purushottam, renowned Hindi film playback singer. Photo: Personal collection of Minoo Purushottam.

Last year, we published a popular post on the career of one of our favorite yesterday playback singers, Minoo Purushottam. In one of those great twists of fate taken straight from a 60s masala flick, shortly afterwards, we received an email from Minoo-ji’s son who re-connected Mrs. 55 with her Hindi classical voice teacher, Minoo-ji herself, from years before! Minoo-ji was gracious enough to grant Mr. and Mrs. 55 – Classic Bollywood Revisited! an exclusive interview about her career. After spending many years in Houston since leaving Bombay, Minoo-ji has now settled into her new home in Illinois near her son where she continues to teach new students and perform at concerts. We are honored to share with you a transcript of our delightful conversation with her that includes reminiscing about her early schooldays when she was first recognized as a musical prodigy, that time Mukesh blew his 16th take during a recording session, and what advice she has for aspiring singers!

MRS. 55: Could you tell us a little bit more about your early music training?

MINOO: I grew up in Bombay. There were music classes in school. A South Indian teacher used to come and teach us the ragas. At that time, I was chosen to lead the school prayers. That was a great time for me, I was not thinking then that I would become a singer when I was at school. I wanted to become a schoolteacher actually. I had very simple ambitions. When suddenly I realized I was a singer, I started seriously practicing, four hours every day, every day, every day. This was because I had to prepare for my exams: 25 ragas for the sangeet visharad in the first year. It was very difficult. But I always loved to teach, and I still love it. Everybody now thinks they can sing without practice. I think karaoke messed things up that way. If you know the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna said we have 4 Vedas, and there is a Samaveda based on music. The whole universe is singing if you carefully listen to it. All the sounds are like singing. It affects one a lot.

MR. 55: Who was your favorite duet partner in the past?

MINOO: All these singers are great humans. I was working all my life with Mohammed Rafi. At that time I was very young and toured with Asha Bhonsle too. But after the great singers were gone, I was not interested in staying in Bombay. With whom should I sing? I was feeling sad. But still I love to work, I love to sing. Even now I practice every day.

Playback singers Minoo Purushottam and Asha Bhonsle rehearsing together in a recording studio. Photo: Personal collection of Minoo Purushottam.

MRS. 55: Some singers have commented on the difficult of breaking into the industry when it was dominated by a few select singers. How did you overcome that?

MINOO: I didn’t have any difficulty. It seemed that everybody loved me so much, they wanted to give me a chance. I was doing my job well. All the music directors were very happy with me when I was working with them. I never said that, “I want this, I want that.” I never made demands, so I was very easy to work with. At that time music was so great. The stories in the films were so good. You can see those films 100 times. From my childhood, I saw the film Mahal. It’s a very old movie. I can see that film over and over. I love all those songs. I can see it 1000 times. But my time was after that, mostly colour movies.

MR. 55: You worked with many great music directors. What lessons did they teach you?

MINOO: I was working a lot with Madan Mohan. He was my teacher, teaching me ghazals and pronunciation and accent of ghazals. Jaidev was also my teacher.

MRS. 55: I remember when I took lessons from you, you talked fondly about the actors you worked with, especially Sanjeev Kumar.

MINOO: You know, Sanjeev Kumar’s sister is in Houston and used to come to meet me. We were very good friends. But things change a lot. Madhumati was very good friend of mine as well.

Bollywood playback singers Minoo Purushottam and Manna Dey. Photo: Personal collection of Minoo Purushottam.

MR. 55: Are there any new artists that you enjoy?

MINOO: I have a habit of listening to old songs from singers like Talat Mehmood. It’s hard to change that. But some students do want to learn new songs, and then I help them. We should be open-minded, it’s a part of the job.

MRS. 55: What is your favorite film song that you sang?

MINOO: I love all of them. You put so much time and effort into each one. You have to concentrate very hard, you can’t play around with it. One should be very serious. Nowadays they can break the song down in pieces to record just the pieces, and then put them together. But in those days, you and all the musicians had to sing it perfectly all the way through. If you make a mistake, you’d be rejected. One day I was sitting for the recording and Mukesh-ji was making so many mistakes! He was on his 16^th take and he said, “If I don’t get it right this time, I’m going to forget this song.” I think my voice has changed with age, and it suits bhajans and ghazals now. And anyway, who would compose film music now the way S.D. Burman and C. Ramchandra did? This time people just want to make money, not make real music.

MRS. 55: Is there anything you’d like to tell your fans?

MINOO: If you really want to sing, you must learn something. Find a teacher. But I can tell you, it’s hard to find time to devote just to music. But you must do it.

– Mr. and Mrs. 55

Playback singers Minoo Purushottam and Mohammed Rafi often toured together in the 60s and 70s. Photo: Personal collection of Minoo Purushottam.

Sadhana excels in her role as the mysterious femme fatale of Woh Kaun Thi? (1964)

Happy Halloween to our readers! What better way to celebrate with a classic ghost song featuring Lata Mangeshkar’s spooky vocals, Sadhana’s haunting beauty, and Madan Mohan’s soul-stirring composition? In the spirit of Halloween, we are sharing the lyrics and English translation to nainaa barse rimjhim rimjhim from Raj Khosla’s suspense thriller Woh Kaun Thi? (1964).

In a previous post, we have discussed how Woh Kaun Thi? is the quintessential example of film noir being adapted for vintage Hindi cinema.  In this film, Dr. Anand (Manoj Kumar) encounters a mysterious woman (Sadhana) on a stormy night and offers to give her a ride in his car. After she makes a strange request to be dropped off at a local cemetery, he hears this woman sing the first part of nainaa barse – a song that continues to haunt him at various points throughout the film. Later in the movie, Dr. Anand is called to see a patient in an old mansion that is rumored to be haunted. When he arrives at this mansion, the patient has already died and she appears to be the same woman that he encountered on the stormy night. In an even more strange turn of events, Dr. Anand’s fiancee is murdered suddenly by a cyanide injection. To alleviate his grief and loneliness, Dr. Anand is set up by his mother to his marry a new woman named Sandhya. Much to his surprise, Dr. Anand finds on his wedding night that his new wife looks exactly like the supposedly dead woman he gave a ride to in the film’s opening scene! Like Dr. Anand, the audience is left confused as they grapple with the film’s eponymous question: Woh kaun thi? Who was she?

Throughout her career, Lata Mangeshkar earned a reputation for her haunting renditions of ghost songs in films. Some of her most influential and beautiful hits are used as ghost songs in their respective movies: aayegaa aanevaalaa from Mahal (1949), tuu jahaa.n jahaa.n chalegaa from Mera Saaya (1966), kahii.n diip jale kahii.n dil from Bees Saal Baad (1962), and gumnaam hai koii from Gumnaam (1965). In an interview for her 80th birthday, the melody queen humorously remarks about her career: mai.n ne sab se zyaadaa gaanaa gaaye hai.n bhuuto.n ke (I have sung the most songs for ghosts!).

An interesting and apt anecdote: when this song was being filmed in Kufri (near Shimla), Lata had not yet had the opportunity to record the song in the studio. Much to the surprise of the crowd that had gathered to watch the filming, actress Sadhana shot her scenes by lip-syncing to a version of this song rendered by music director Madan Mohan himself – perhaps a bit creepy but also a rare treat!

Did you know that Woh Kaun Thi? was inspired by a British play called The Woman In White (1859) written by Wilkie Collins? Raj Khosla’s mentor Guru Dutt had attempted to create a film based on the same story a few years earlier in 1959. He abandoned this project entitled Raaz in which he was supposed to play the male lead while Waheeda Rehman played the female lead. Interestingly, this film was supposed to have been R.D. Burman’s debut as a solo music director.

-Mr. 55

Manoj Kumar plays a confused doctor who is recurrently haunted by a mysterious woman and her song in Woh Kaun Thi? (1964)

Naina Barse Rimjhim Rimjhim (Version 1): Lyrics and Translation

nainaa barse rimjhim rimjhim
My eyes shed tears, drop by drop,
piyaa tore aavan kii aas
in hopes of your return, my beloved.
nainaa barse, barse, barse
My eyes shed tears.

yeh laakho.n gham, yeh tanhaayii
Thousands of sorrows and this solitiude
muhabbat kii yeh rusvaayii
are all part of love’s disgrace. 
kaTii aisii kaii raate.n
I have spent several such nights
na tum aaye na maut aayii
where neither you came to me, nor my death. 
yeh bi.ndiyaa kaa taaraa
The star of my beauty spot
jaise ho a.ngaaraa
burns brightly like an ember.
mahandii mere haatho.n kii udaas
Even the henna on my hands is sullen.

nainaa barse rimjhim rimjhim
My eyes shed tears, drop by drop,
piyaa tore aavan kii aas
in hopes of your return, my beloved.
nainaa barse, barse, barse
My eyes shed tears.

Manoj Kumar’s restrained and understated performance falls short in comparison to Sadhana’s dynamic portrayal of the leading character in Woh Kaun Thi? (1964).  

Naina Barse Rimjhim Rimjhim (Version 2): Lyrics and Translation

nainaa barse rimjhim rimjhim
My eyes shed tears, drop by drop,
piyaa tore aavan kii aas
in hopes of your return, my beloved. 
nainaa barse, barse, barse
My eyes shed tears.

adhuuraa huu.n mai.n afsaanaa
I am an incomplete story. 
jo yaad aauu.n chale aanaa
When you remember me, come back to me. 
meraa jo haal hai tujh bin
The state that I am in without you, 
voh aa kar dekhte jaanaa
come to me and see it for yourself. 
bhiigii bhiigii palke.n
My eyelashes are moist, 
chham-chham aa.nsuu chhalke.n
as my tears drip, sounding like the jingle of an anklet.  
khoyii khoyii aa.nkhe.n hai.n udaas
My eyes are lost and sullen.

nainaa barse rimjhim rimjhim
My eyes shed tears, drop by drop,
piyaa tore aavan kii aas
in hopes of your return, my beloved. 
nainaa barse, barse, barse
My eyes shed tears.

Sadhana’s dashing beauty shines against the backdrop of Shimla in the Himalayas in Woh Kaun Thi? (1964)

Naina Barse Rimjhim Rimjhim (Version 3): Lyrics and Translation

nainaa barse rimjhim rimjhim
My eyes shed tears, drop by drop,
piyaa tore aavan kii aas
in hopes of your return, my beloved.
nainaa barse, barse, barse
My eyes shed tears.

voh din merii nigaaho.n me.n
Those days remain in my eyes. 
voh yaade.n merii aaho.n me.n
Those memories remain in my sighs. 
yeh dil ab tak bhaTaktaa hai
This heart still wanders
terii ulfat kii raaho.n me.n
along the paths of your love. 
suunii suunii raahe.n, sahmii sahmii baahe.n
Along those empty paths, with my nervous arms, 
aan.kho.n me.n hai barso.n kii pyaas
my eyes carry a thirst unslaked for years.

nazar tujh bin machaltii hai
My sight wavers without you. 
muhabbat haath maltii hai
My love repents in desperation. 
chalaa aa mere parvaane
Please come to me, my moth. 
vafaa kii shamaa jaltii hai
The candle of faithfulness still burns brightly. 
o mere hamraahii, phirtii huu.n ghabraayii
Oh, my soulmate! I wander about afraid. 
jahaa.n bhii hai, aa jaa mere paas
Wherever you are, please come to me.

nainaa barse rimjhim rimjhim
My eyes shed tears, drop by drop,
piyaa tore aavan kii aas
in hopes of your return, my beloved. 
nainaa barse, barse, barse
My eyes shed tears.

Glossary

nainaa: eyes; barasnaa: to rain; rimjhim: onomatopoeia for the dripping noise of rain; aavan: return, arrival; aas: hope; adhuuraa: incomplete; afsaanaa: story; haal: state, condition; palak: eyelid, eyelash; chham-chham: onomatopoeia for the jingling noise of an anklet; chhalaknaa: to drip; udaas: sullen, gloomy; tanhaayii: solitude; rusvaayii: disgrace; maut: death; bi.ndiyaa: beauty spot; angaaraa: cinder, ember; mahandii: henna, nigaah: eyes; aah: sigh; sahmaa: nervous; baras: year; pyaas: thirst; nazar: glance, sight; machalnaa: to waver; haath malnaa: to repent; parvaanaa: moth; vafaa: faithfulness; shamaa: candle; hamraahii: soulmate, companion; phirnaa: to wander about; ghabraayaa: afraid.

     Those eyes! 

Collar fully popped with emotion, Shammi Kapoor hears his lover’s voice echo to him through the mountains in “Awaz Deke” from Professor (1962).

Today we present the haunting duet “Awaaz Deke” from the crowd-pleasing dramedy Professor (1962), starring Shammi Kapoor, Kalpana Mohan, and Lalita Pawar. There is a charm to this film, enhanced by the scenic woods of Darjeeling, that surmounts its kitsch basis and the sprinklings of Tuntun as comic relief. Shammi Kapoor plays a young educated man in desperate search of a job as a teacher when his mother is diagnosed with the dreaded…wait for it…tuberculosis! [cue: sad violin solo and unnecessarily exuberant coughing spell]. You were expecting lymphosarcoma of the intestine, no? In order to pay for her treatment at a sanitorium, Shammi accepts a post as a professor to four orphaned children living with their domineering aunt. However, because the aunt (played in her usual court martial fashion by Lalita Pawar) mistrusts men and specifically requested a professor older than 50, Shammi cleverly dons a goatee and spectacles and attempts to pass as an elderly scholar. The comedy of errors that ensues forms the basis of a delightful, albeit sometimes face-palm-inducing, two and a half hours of singing and prancing around the picturesque Darjeeling countryside.

“Awaaz Deke” is among my favorite Lata-Rafi pairings, boasting a soul-stirring melody that rises above the rest of the film. I remember when I was younger hearing this song before ever seeing the movie, and being struck by the song’s unusual saxophone theme. I love the juxtaposition of the traditional Indian percussion that gives the song its sense of urgency with the beauty of the jazz staple, played in a way I had never experienced a saxophone before: haunting and pure. Composed by Shankar-Jaikishen in one of their favorites ragas, Shivaranjani, “Awaaz Deke” is a diamond of the Professor album that won the 1963 Filmfare Award for best music direction. That stunning high F5 that Lata nails in the antra, while not her highest note on record, will make you wonder how there can exist people in the world who have never known the majesty of Hindi film music.

Kalpana Mohan searches for her estranged lover in a cute fur coat “Awaz Deke” from Professor (1962).

As pleasant a face as our leading lady possesses, director Lekh Tandon had harsh words for Kalpana Mohan when filming his directorial debut Professor. Because of her inexperience before a camera, he was forced to shoot multiple takes before achieving the performance he wanted–a costly endeavor in the days before digital film! A Kashmiri native, Kalpana was trained in Kathak dancing before she received her first break in Bollywood as the playful heroine of Professor. She virtually disappeared from the film industry following her marriage shortly after her successful role in Teen Devian (1965), and died tragically of cancer almost 3 years ago. She is remembered today by fans for the mesmerizing twinkle in her eyes you can see in all her films.

We hope you enjoy the English translation and lyrics to “Awaz Deke” below. This would be a perfect song to burst into the next time you and your significant other are having a lover’s tiff, right? I can think of no better way to break the tension. You can follow along with the video on youtube here!

Awaaz Deke Hamen Tum Bulaao Lyrics and Translation:

LATA: aawaaz deke hame.N tum bulaao
Lend me your voice and call out to me
Mohabbat mei.N itnaa na hamko sataao
Do not torture me so much in our love

LATA: Abhii to merii zindagii hai pareshaa.N
Now my life is filled with worry
Kahii.N mar ke ho khaak bhii na pareshaa.N
If I die somewhere, may my ashes be not so distraught
Diye kii tarah se na hamko jalaao
Do not light me on fire like a candle
Mohabbat mei.N itnaa na hamko sataao
Do not torture me so much in our love

RAFI: aawaaz deke hame.N tum bulaao
Lend me your voice and call out to me
Mohabbat mei.N itnaa na hamko sataao
Do not torture me so much in our love

RAFI: Mai.n saa.Nso.N ke har taar mei.N chhup rahaa huu.N
I am hidden in every chord of your breath
Mai.N dhaDkan ke har raag mei.N bas rahaa huu.N
I inhabit every melody of your heartbeat
Zaraa dil kii jaanib nigaahe.N jhukaao
Just lower your gaze toward your heart
Mohabbat mei.N itnaa na hamko sataao
Do not torture me so much in our love

LATA: na ho.nge agar ham to rote rahoge
If I was not here, then you would cry forever
Sadaa dil kaa daaman bhigote rahoge
You would forever drench the fabric of your heart
Jo tum par miTaa ho use na miTaao
Do not destroy the person who is already destroyed for you
Mohabbat mei.N itnaa na hamko sataao
Do not torture me so much in our love

RAFI: aawaaz deke hame.N tum bulaao
Lend me your voice and call out to me
Mohabbat mei.N itnaa na hamko sataao
Do not torture me this much in our love

Glossary:

awaaz: voice; [kisi ko] bulaanaa: to call out [to someone]; mohabbat: love; sataanaa: to torture; abhii: now; zindagii: life; pareshaa.N: worried, distraught; kahii.N: somewhere; marnaa: to die; khaak: ashes; diyaa: candle; [kisi] ki tarah se: in the manner [of something], like [something]; jalaanaa: to light on fire; saa.Ns: breath; taar: chord, string (of an instrument); chhup: silent, hidden; dhaDkan: heartbeat; raag: melody (in Hindustani classical music, a strict set of notes upon which a melody is based); basnaa: to settle, to inhabit; zaraa: a little; dil: heart; [kisii kii] jaanib: toward [something]; nigaahe.N: gaze; jhuknaa: to bow, to lower; ronaa: to cry; sadaa: always, forever; damaan: the end of a saari or skirt; bhigonaa: to drench; miTnaa: to disappear: miTaanaa: to erase, to make disappear

As a side note, this song is another great and tragic example of how the legacy of Hindi film music has been distorted by the constraints of the LP–you probably have been listening to an abbreviated version that removes the first line repetition of each stanza! It’s a small detail, but critical if you’re as obsessed with soaking in every drop of this masterpiece as I am. Two other great songs from this film, “Aye Gulbadan” and “Khuli Palak Mein,” suffered the loss of an entire stanza each when facing the LP cutting board! I can’t even handle this travesty.

Shammi Kapoor pretends to be an elderly professor complete with round spectacles and a dubious goatee in Professor (1962).

This translation was requested by fan Jayawanth Bharadwaj! Thanks for reading and giving us a chance to translate such a beautiful duet!

– Mrs. 55

We at Mr. and Mrs. 55 – Classic Bollywood Revisited! are getting tired of some of the recent unhinged political rhetoric being thrown around. Sometimes we have to take a moment to realize that not everyone was lucky enough to learn important life lessons as we were from classic Bollywood films.

Amar Akbar, Anthony (1977) is one of India’s most beloved masala films, telling the story of three brothers who are separated in childhood and eventually united after one is raised a Hindu, one a Muslim, and one a Christian. Let’s take a moment to reflect on what Vinod Khanna, Rishi Kapoor, and Amitabh Bachhan’s title characters would have to say about recent events.

3 Life Lessons From Amar, Akbar, Anthony (1977):

1. We CAN all live in harmony.

Plurality makes us better. Families, communities, and countries are enriched because we embrace and learn from our differences.

2. A family that sings and dances together, stays together.

On a related note, always, always have a giant Easter egg handy. Just trust me.

3. Karma is a b****.

A really huge b****. If you insult a man when he’s down, you’re going to be that man soon. And everyone, even your kids, will hate you. Until, of course, you repent and join them in a group chorus (see rule #2).

Pass this along to friends, shady pharmaceutical executives, and bombastic political wannabes who don’t quite get it. And if your childhood was completely empty, you can now watch Amar, Akbar, Anthony online and subtitled here!

Your welcome.

– Mrs. 55

We’ve compiled a montage of the greatest shots from classic Bollywood films that we feel exemplify the splendor, allure, and excitement of Hindi movies from the Golden Age. Consider these 50 stunning film shots a glimpse through a keyhole into a much grander world of cinematographic sublimity: behold the magic of classic Bollywood.

This project was kindled in part by my reaction to everyone who’s ever told me, “I love Bollywood!” I get that a lot. Being a film production major who’s worked in the Hindi movie industry, I hear the phrase, “I love Bollywood!” several times a month—from classmates, friends, and random people at parties. Bollywood has become a trend all over the globe—every hipster worth their organic sea salt is familiar with the term, and many have even seen a Hindi film or two themselves. Except I don’t really ever know what to say in reply. It’s not because loving Bollywood isn’t exactly what I look for in new friends (because believe me, it is), but because I don’t understand what that phrase even means.

Let me put this in perspective. To me, this can be the equivalent of someone in rural Punjab who’s seen the Bourne trilogy saying, “I love Hollywood!”

Think about that. What does it mean to love “Hollywood”? Are you saying you love American filmmaking and its history? Celebrity gossip? Or do you really mean to say, “I love action flicks and Matt Damon?” Because Hollywood is not just big-budget androcentric action flicks (although they are a cool part of a big genre). Ryan Gosling kissing Rachel McAdams in the rain is Hollywood. Orsen Welles fighting a smear campaign for governor is Hollywood. Judy Garland singing over a rainbow is Hollywood. And Jack Nicholas running amok in an insane asylum is Hollywood. It’s rare to find someone who knows and loves it all.

So when you say, “I love Bollywood!” to me, as a true lover of all things Bollywood, I don’t know what you’re really referring to. Often people who haven’t had much exposure tend to generalize that elusive term Bollywood to mean “pretty costumes!” or “crazy dancing!” This perception applies just as much to Indians from India as to non-Indians anywhere else. Because Bollywood is not just the melodramatic musical with half-naked women and a loose masala plot that is often stereotyped. Bollywood is Guru Dutt searching the streets of urban decay for a glimmer of humanity. Bollywood is Meena Kumari dancing kathak upon shattered glass in sorrow. Bollywood is Amitabh Bachhan’s fist meeting the jaws of his twenty adversaries with a satisfying smack. And yes, Bollywood is Aishwarya Rai and Shah Rukh Khan in glittery costumes declaring love in the moonlight. I often yearn to somehow share all the magic of classic Hindi cinema that comes to my mind when I think of Bollywood, because it is a well-hidden treasure for so many of my generation.

Now before someone throws a fit, I get it. Not everyone has the time or interest to become heavily familiarized with Bombay’s film output since the 1930s. Nor should they. All I’m saying is, I wish more people were aware of what Bollywood truly encompasses. When you exclaim, “I love Bollywood!” there is a reason why I can’t bring myself to reply, “OMG, totes!” but instead want to fill your ear with my reverence of the cinematography in Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959). Simply tell me you loved the movie Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (1998) (because, seriously, who didn’t?), or that you thought Deepika Padukone’s outfits were beautiful in that one rom-com. Otherwise, we’ll both end up feeling awkward after I start on my spiel. Yes, I probably overthink this. Yes, most people probably don’t care one way or another. But I can’t imagine living a world without the enchantment of classic Bollywood films, and maybe there are people out there who would want in, if they only knew what they’re missing.

So this montage is the reply I wish I could give everyone, but I cannot articulate–a reply that must be seen to be believed. Because when I respond, “Really? I love Bollywood too!” this is what comes to my mind. This montage is why I love Bollywood. I hope that by watching these shots, you can get a peek into that hypnotizing world yourself, and that you’ll crave more. I hope that this might be a chance to understand that Bollywood is far richer, far more complex, and far more evocative than can be summed up by mere words or by viewing a single film.

Therefore, don’t just take my word for it. Watch the 50 Film Shots That Will Make You Believe in the Magic of Classic Bollywood, and I’ll bet that somewhere deep inside your heart, something faintly stirs in a way you never knew possible. And afterwards, I recommend starting with any of the movies that made our list of the Top 30 Greatest Classic Bollywood Films of All Time. I’ll get off my soap box now. Back to translating obscure old songs where I belong. But send us a comment if this montage resonates with you, and share it with anyone who may have never experienced the wonder of the films to which it pays homage.

Just don’t even get me started on Slumdog Millionaire.

– Mrs. 55

An aged Nargis remembers the trials of her youth in the final shot of the Academy Award-nominated film Mother India (1957).

50 Shots’ Film Names (in order of appearance):

1. Bandini (1963)
2. Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959)
3. Pakeezah (1972)
4. Aradhana (1969)
5. Bombai Ka Babu (1960)
6. Kohra (1964)
7. Mother India (1957)
8. Guide (1965)
9. Shree 420 (1955)
10. Sangam (1964)
11. Mughal-e-Azam (1960)
12. Chinatown (1962)
13. Caravan (1971)
14. Shree 420 (1955)
15. Shree 420 (1955)
16. Sholay (1975)
17. Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959)
18. Pakeezah (1972)
19. Pakeezah (1972)
20. Pyaasa (1957)
21. Bombai Ka Babu (1960)
22. Umrao Jaan (1981)
23. Woh Kaun Thi? (1964)
24. Mehboob Ki Mehndi (1971)
25. Jab Jab Phool Khile (1965)
26. Aradhana (1969)
27. Khamoshi (1970)
28. Mughal-e-Azam (1960)
29. Mughal-e-Azam (1960)
30. Woh Kaun Thi? (1964)
31. Mother India (1957)
32. Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959)
33. Guide (1965)
34. Andaz (1949)
35. Mughal-e-Azam (1960)
36. Aradhana (1969)
37. Pakeezah (1972)
38. Jewel Thief (1967)
39. Aan Milo Sajna (1970)
40. Anand (1971)
41. Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959)
42. Awaara (1951)
43. Amar, Akbar, Anthony (1977)
44. Do Raaste (1969)
45. Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959)
46. Awaara (1951)
47. Sholay (1975)
48. Baazi (1951)
49. Woh Kaun Thi? (1964)
50. Mother India (1957)

The best music albums from classic Bollywood have been chosen. Which songs made the list of Bollywood’s top 30 greatest?

Introduction

Welcome to the greatest music of classic Bollywood! We at Mr. and Mrs. 55 – Classic Bollywood Revisited! have compiled our ultimate list of the top 30 best classic Bollywood film soundtracks of all-time. Music is the very soul of classic Bollywood, a legacy of beauty and style that once lit the world. These soundtracks showcase the most talented artists of Bollywood and are as diverse and transformative as the films to which they lent their magic. Long after the cinema lights fade, this music remains in the air, haunting us with desire, sustaining us through tragedy, and enchanting our daily experiences in the world.

Soundtracks of all Hindi films released between the years of 1945 to 1985 were considered and ranked based on the merit of lyrics, musical composition and complexity, historical and cultural value, vocal performance, and accomplishments of the soundtrack elements as an ensemble. Topping our list are composers Sachin Dev Burman, Rahul Dev Burman, Naushad, and the duo Shankarsingh Raghuwanshi and Jaikishan Dayabhai Panchal (often credited as Shankar-Jaikishen) whose works both defined and reinvented Bollywood. Like our enormously popular list of the Top 30 Greatest Classic Bollywood Films of All Time, these soundtracks embrace the unexpected.

The advent of music in Bollywood binds the stormy history of a shackled India emerging from depression and war with the golden age of Hollywood musical film. Many believe that films with de rigeur musical numbers is a unique hallmark of Hindi cinema. However, the early “talkie” pictures of India such as Alam Ara (1931) were heavily influenced by the popular western films like The Jazz Singer (1927) and Showboat (1929) in which the new sound technology instantly propelled musical film as the most profitable genre. Hollywood directors like Busby Berkeley whose signature spectacle was the mass ornament and nimble-footed singer-dancers like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers helped contribute to the hundreds and hundreds of musical films cherished by the western world during the 1930s-1950s. The then universal convention of five to seven musical numbers peppering a film was easily embraced and adapted by Hindi movie directors who introduced Hindustani musical traditions to their work. Playback singers such as Lata Mangeshkar, Mohammed Rafi, Kishore Kumar, and Asha Bhonsle were as celebrated as the actors for whom they lent their voices. Often before a film was released, a Bollywood movie’s soundtrack was played repeatedly on the radio, reaching the hearts of millions across the country who may not have afforded the luxury to see the actual film in theatres.

While Hollywood eventually diverged from the musical film genre by the late 1960s, India was awakening to its own golden era of film in which music dominated the sensory milieu. Perhaps it was the escapism of music with its perfect harmonies and piercing poetry that touched the newly freed country still finding its identity. From solemn hymns of the countryside to feverish cabarets of city nightlife, from extravagant orchestras to solitary sitar solos, and from singers whose voices seem to descend from heaven, these soundtracks unleashed new eras of possibility and romance. The music of classic Bollywood will change you forever. For a few fleeting minutes, the ideals you dreamed of are made real.

Take this journey with us through the best music albums of yesteryear Hindi cinema. This music the way is was meant to be. This is classic Bollywood.

The Top 30 Best Classic Bollywood Soundtracks of All Time:

1. Pakeezah

Ghulam Mohammed and Naushad, 1971

• Chalte Chalte – Lata Mangeshkar
• Taare Rahiyo – Lata Mangeshkar
• Teer-e Nazar – Lata Mangeshkar
• Chalo Dildar Chalo – Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi
• Inhi Logon Ne – Lata Mangeshkar
• Mausam Hai Aashiqana – Lata Mangeshkar
• Title Music/Alap – Lata Mangeshkar

2. Guide

S.D. Burman, 1965

• Din Dhal Jaaye – Mohammed Rafi
• Aaj Phir Jeene Ki – Lata Mangeshkar
• Piya Tose – Lata Mangeshkar
• Tere Mere Sapne – Mohammed Rafi
• Gaata Rahe Mera Dil – Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi
• Kya Se Kya Ho Gaya – Mohammed Rafi
• Saiyan Beiman – Lata Mangeshkar

3. Mughal-e-Azam

Naushad, 1960

• Teri Mehfil Mein Qismat – Lata Mangeshkar and Shamshad Begum
• Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya – Lata Mangeshkar
• Mohe Pangat Pe – Lata Mangeshkar
• Mohabbat Ki Jhooti Kahani – Lata Mangeshkar
• Aye Mohabbat Zindabad – Mohammed Rafi
• Prem Jogan Ban Ke – Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan
• Yeh Dil Ki Lagi – Lata Mangeshkar
• Title Music

4. Nagin

Hemant Kumar, 1954

• Man Dole Mera – Lata Mangeshkar
• Jadugar Saiyan – Lata Mangeshkar
• Tere Dwar Khada Ek Jogi – Hemant Kumar
• Mera Dil Yeh Pukare Aaja – Lata Mangeshkar
• Sun Ri Sakhi – Lata Mangeshkar
• Yaad Rakhna Pyar Ki Nishani – Asha Bhonsle and Hemant Kumar

5. Aradhana

S.D. Burman, 1969

• Roop Tera Mastana – Kishore Kumar
• Mere Sapnon Ki Rani – Kishore Kumar
• Kora Kaagaz Tha – Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar
• Gunguna Rahe Hai Bhanware – Asha Bhonsle and Mohammed Rafi
• Baghon Mein Bahar Hai – Mohammed Rafi and Lata Mangeshkar
• Saphal Hogi Teri Aradhana – S.D. Burman

6. Teesri Manzil

R.D. Burman, 1966

• Aaja Aaja – Asha Bhonsle and Mohammed Rafi
• Deewana Mujhsa Nahin – Mohammed Rafi
• O Haseena Zulfonwali – Asha Bhonsle and Mohammed Rafi
• O Mere Sona Re – Asha Bhonsle and Mohammed Rafi
• Tumne Mujhe Dekha – Mohammed Rafi

7. Barsaat

Shankarsingh Raghuwanshi and Jaikishan Dayabhai Panchal, 1949

• Hawa Mein Udta Jaye – Lata Mangeshkar
• Chhod Gaye Balam – Lata Mangeshkar and Mukesh
• Jiya Beqarar Hai – Lata Mangeshkar
• Mujhe Kisise Pyar – Lata Mangeshkar
• Patli Kamar Hai – Lata Mangeshkar and Mukesh

8. Anarkali

C. Ramachandra, 1953

• Yeh Zindagi Usiki Hai – Lata Mangeshkar
• O Zindagi Ke Denewale – Hemant Kumar
• O Aasmanwale – Lata Mangeshkar
• Jaag Dard-e-Ishq – Lata Mangeshkar and Hemant Kumar
• Mohabbat Aisi Dhadhkan Hai – Lata Mangeshkar
• Mujhse Mat Pooch – Lata Mangeshkar
• Aaja Ab To Aaja – Lata Mangeshkar

9. Kati Patang

R.D. Burman, 1970

• Jis Gali Mein – Mukesh
• Yeh Jo Mohabbat Hai – Kishore Kumar
• Na Koi Umang Hai – Lata Mangeshkar
• Yeh Shaam Mastani – Kishore Kumar
• Pyaar Diwanaa Hota Hai – Kishore Kumar
• Aaj Na Chhodenge – Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar

10. Chori Chori

Shankarsingh Raghuwanshi and Jaikishan Dayabhai Panchal, 1956

• Panchi Banoon Udti – Lata Mangeshkar
• Aaja Sanam – Lata Mangeshkar and Manna Dey
• Jahan Main Jaati Hoon – Lata Mangeshkar and Manna Dey
• Yeh Raat Bheegi Bheegi – Lata Mangeshkar and Manna Dey
• Rasik Balma – Lata Mangeshkar
• Man Bhavan Ke Ghar – Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhonsle

11. Taj Mahal

Roshan, 1963

• Jo Wada Kiya Woh – Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi
• Jo Baat Tujh Mein Hai – Mohammed Rafi
• Jurm-e Ulfat Pe – Lata Mangeshkar
• Paaon Choo Lene Do – Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi
• Chandi Ka Badan – Asha Bhonsle and Mohammed Rafi

12. Hum Dono

Jaidev, 1961

• Abhi Na Jao Chhod Kar – Asha Bhonsle and Mohammed Rafi
• Allah Tero Naam – Lata Mangeshkar
• Kabhi Khud Pe – Mohammed Rafi
• Main Zindagi Ka Saath – Mohammed Rafi
• Prabhu Tero Naam – Lata Mangeshkar

13. Jewel Thief

S.D. Burman, 1967

• Honton Pe Aisi Baat – Lata Mangeshkar
• Aasman Ke Neeche – Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar
• Dil Pukare – Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi
• Rulake Gaya Sapna – Lata Mangeshkar
• Yeh Dil Na Hota – Kishore Kumar
• Title Music

14. Caravan

R.D. Burman, 1971

• Piya Tu Ab To – Asha Bhonsle
• Chadti Jawani – Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi
• Kitna Pyara Wada – Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi
• Goriya Kahan – Asha Bhonsle and Mohammed Rafi
• Ab Jo Mile Hai – Asha Bhonsle

15. Bobby

Laxmikant Shantaram Kudalkar and Pyarelal Ramprasad Sharma, 1973

• Main Shayar To Nahin – Shailendra Singh
• Bahar Se Koi Andhar – Lata Mangeshkar and Shailendra Singh
• Jhoot Bole Kauwa Kate – Lata Mangeshkar and Shailendra Singh
• Mujhe Kuch Kehna Hai – Lata Mangeshkar and Shailendra Singh
• Na Mangoon Sona Chandi – Manna Dey and Shailendra Singh

16. Pyaasa

S.D. Burman, 1957

• Jaane Woh Kaise – Hemant Kumar
• Aaj Sajan Mohe – Geeta Dutt
• Hum Aap Ki Ankhon Mein – Geeta Dutt and Mohammed Rafi
• Jane Kya Tune Kahi – Asha Bhonsle
• Yeh Duniya Agar Mil Bhi Jaaye – Mohammed Rafi

17. Abhiman

S.D. Burman, 1973

• Tere Mere Milan – Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar
• Nadiya Kinare – Lata Mangeshkar
• Tere Bindiya Re – Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi
• Piya Bina – Lata Mangeshkar
• Ab To Hai Tumse – Lata Mangeshkar

18. Anand

Salil Choudhury, 1971

• Zindagi Kaisi Hai Paheli – Manna Dey
• Kahin Door Jab Din – Mukesh
• Maine Tere Liye Hi – Mukesh
• Na Jiya Lage Na – Lata Mangeshkar

19. Kabhi Kabhi

Mohammed Zayur Khayyam, 1976

• Kabhi Kabhi Mere Dil Mein – Lata Mangeshkar and Mukesh
• Pyar Kar Liya To – Kishore Kumar
• Main Pal Do Pal Ka – Mukesh
• Mere Ghar Aayi Ek – Lata Mangeshkar
• Tere Chehre Se – Lata Mangeshkar and Kishore Kumar

20. Baiju Bawra

Naushad, 1952

• O Duniya Ke Rakhwale – Mohammed Rafi
• Man Tarpat Hari Dar – Mohammed Rafi
• Mohe Bhool Gaye Sanwariya – Lata Mangeshkar
• Jhoole Mein Pawan Ke – Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi
• Tu Ganga Ki Mauj – Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi

21. Mother India

Naushad, 1957

• Duniya Mein Hum Aaye Hain – Lata Mangeshkar, Usha Mangeshkar, and Meena Mangeshkar
• Ghunghat Nahin Kholungi – Lata Mangeshkar
• Nagari Nagari Dware Dware – Lata Mangeshkar
• O Janewalo Jao Na – Lata Mangeshkar
• O Gadiwale – Shamshad Begum and Mohammed Rafi

22. Madhumati

Salil Choudhury, 1958

• Aaja Re Pardesi – Lata Mangeshkar
• Dil Tadap Tadap – Lata Mangeshkar and Mukesh
• Suhana Safar – Mukesh
• Ghadi Ghadi Mora Dil – Lata Mangeshkar
• Chadh Gayo Papi Bichua – Lata Mangeshkar and Manna Dey

23. Basant Bahar

Shankarsingh Raghuwanshi and Jaikishan Dayabhai Panchal, 1956

• Duniya Na Bhaye Mohammed Rafi
• Bhaye Bhanjana – Manna Dey
• Ja Ja Re Ja – Lata Mangeshkar
• Main Piya Teri – Lata Mangeshkar
• Nain Mile Chain Kahan – Lata Mangeshkar and Manna Dey

24. Aar Paar

O.P. Nayyar, 1954

• Babuji Dheere Chalna – Geeta Dutt
• Sun Sun Sun Zalima – Geeta Dutt and Mohammed Rafi
• Kabhi Aar Kabhi Par – Shamshad Begum
• Yeh Lo Main Haari Piya – Geeta Dutt
• Hoon Abhi Main Jawan – Geeta Dutt

25. Kashmir Ki Kali

O.P. Nayyar, 1964

• Deewana Hua Badal – Asha Bhonsle and Mohammed Rafi
• Isharon Isharon – Asha Bhonsle and Mohammed Rafi
• Subhan Allah Haseen – Mohammed Rafi
• Kisi Na Kisi Se – Mohammed Rafi
• Meri Jaan Balle Balle – Asha Bhonsle and Mohammed Rafi

26. Bandini

S.D. Burman, 1963

• Ab Ke Baras Bhej – Asha Bhonsle
• O Re Mahji – S.D. Burman
• Mora Gora Ang Laile – Lata Mangeshkar
• Jogi Jab Se Tu Aaya – Lata Mangeshkar
• O Janewale Ho Sake – Mukesh

27. Sangam

Shankarsingh Raghuwanshi and Jaikishan Dayabhai Panchal, 1964

• Yeh Mera Prem Patra – Mohammed Rafi
• Bol Radha Bol – Mukesh
• Dost Dost Na Raha – Mukesh
• O Mehbooba – Mukesh
• Har Dil Jo Pyar Karega – Lata Mangeshkar

28. Yaadon Ki Baraat

R.D. Burman, 1973

• Chura Liya Hai – Asha Bhonsle and Mohammed Rafi
• Aapke Kamre Mein – Asha Bhonsle and Kishore Kumar
• Lekar Hum Deewana Dil – Asha Bhonsle and Kishore Kumar
• Meri Soni Meri Tamana – Asha Bhonsle and Kishore Kumar
• Yaadon Ki Baraat – Mohammed Rafi and Kishore Kumar

29. Amar Prem

R.D. Burman, 1972

• Chingari Koi Bhadke – Kishore Kumar
• Raina Beeti Jaaye – Lata Mangeshkar
• Kuch To Log Kahenge – Kishore Kumar
• Yeh Kya Hua – Kishore Kumar
• Bada Natkhat Hai Yeh – Lata Mangeshkar

30. Umrao Jaan

Mohammed Zayur Khayyam, 1981

• In Ankhon Ki Masti – Asha Bhonsle
• Dil Cheez Kya Hai – Asha Bhonsle
• Justuju Jiski Hai – Asha Bhonsle
• Yeh Kya Jagah Hai – Asha Bhonsle
• Jab Bhi Milti Hai – Asha Bhonsle

Find out more about these and other classic Bollywood soundtracks on our song pages! Which soundtracks do you consider among classic Bollywood’s all-time best and why? Leave us a comment and let us know!

– Mrs. 55

Happy Valentine’s Day to our dear readers! We hope you a very romantic day with your loved one.

The Indian subcontinent has an amazing variety of terms of endearment for the word ‘lover’.  The origins of these terms arise from a wide diversity of languages within the South Asian diaspora, including Urdu, Hindi, Sanskrit, Punjabi, Farsi, Arabic and Nepali. It is important to note that even though the literal meanings of all the terms may not be the most flattering (e.g. bedardii, chhaliya, daghaabaaz, etc), the manner in which they are used in Bollywood is often romantic and flirtatious.

To our knowledge, the list below is one of the most comprehensive list of Urdu-Hindi terms of endearment compiled on the internet, and we hope you put this list to good use on  Valentine’s Day – and for the rest of the year!

Which of these endearment terms do you like the most? Leave us a note in the comments!

-Mr. ’55

A

aanevaalaa (m.) / aanevaalii (f.): one who arrives || aayegaa aanevaalaa – Mahal (1949)
aashiq​: lover || ham to tere aashiq hai.n sadiyo.n puraane – Farz (1967)
albelaa (m.) / albelii (f.): charming one || albelaa re ruk jaanaa – Raampur Ka Lakshman (1972)
anaaDii: inexperienced one || balmaa anaDii man bhaye – Bahurani (1962)

Babita and Jeetendra in  “Hum To Tere Aashiq Hain” from Farz (1967)

B

baa.nke chhoDaa: handsome one || gore gore o baa.nke chhoDe – Samadhi (1950)
baa.nke yaar: handsome one || thaaDe rahiiyo o baa.nke yaar – Pakeezah (1972)
baa.nvaraa (m.)/ba.nvarii (f.): crazy one || piyaa baa.nvarii – Khoobsurat (1980)
baabuu: gentleman || koii saharii baabuu dil laharii baabuu – Loafer (1973)
baadshaah: emperor || yaar baadshaah yaar dilrubaa – C.I.D. 909 (1967)
baalam: beloved ||  chhoD gaye baalam – Barsaat (1949)
baalamavaa:  beloved ||  jaa jaa re jaa baalamavaa – Basant Bahar (1956)
baaziigar: gambler || baaziigar o baaziigar – Baazigar (1993)
babuaa: gentleman ||  o babuaa yah mahuaa – Sadma (1983)
bahaar-e-husn: spring of beauty || sun ai bahaar-e-husn – Night in London (1967)
bairaagii: detached, recluse one || o mere bairaagii bhanvaraa –  Ishq Par Zor Nahin (1970)
bairii: vengeful one || bairii piyaa – Devdas (2002)
balmaa: beloved ||  baiyaa.n na dharo, o balmaa – Dastak (1970)
baliye:  beloved || nii baliye rut hai bahaar kii – Kanhaiya (1959)
bannaa (m.)/banno (f.): groom/bride || mere banne kii baat na puuchho – Gharana (1961)
bedardii: callous one || bedardii baalmaa tujh ko meraa man – Arzoo (1965)
beimaan: unfaithful one || mose chhal kiye jaaye saiyaa.n beimaan – Guide (1965)
bekhabar: ignorant one || beqadar bekhabar bevafaa baalmaa – Ram Lakhan (1989)
beliyaa: beloved || kitnaa pyaaraa vadaa…o beliyaa – Caravan (1971)
beqadar: cruel one || o beqadar bedardii – Desh Premee (1982)
bevafaa: unfaithful one || ek bevafaa se pyaar kiyaa – Awaara (1951)
bhanvaraa: bumblebee || bhanvaraa baDaa naadaan hai – Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962)
bholaa (m.) / bholii (f.): innocent, gullible one || o mere bhole baalam – Padosan (1963)
bulbul: nightingale || merii bulbul yuu.n na ho gul – Biwi O Biwi (1980)

Meena Kumari in  “Thade Rahiyo” from Pakeezah (1972)

C

chaa.nd/chaa.ndnii: the Moon/moonlight || chaudvii.n kaa chaa.nd ho – Chaudvin Ka Chand (1960)
chaa.nd kaa tukDaa: piece of the Moon || mere saamnevaali khiDkii me.n ek chaa.nd kaa tukDaa rehtaa hai – Padosan (1963)
chandramukhii: Moon-faced || o mrignayanii chandramukhii – Rang Birangi (1982)
chhail chhabiilaa (m.): handsome beau || o meraa baabuu chhail chhabiilaa – Man Ki Jeet (1972)
chhaliyaa: cheater || zaraa saamne to aao chhaliye – Janam Janam Ke Phere (1957)
chhammak chhallo (f.): stunning beauty || o merii chhammak chhallo – Pyaasa Sawan (1981)
chitchor: heart-stealer || baa.ndh priitii phuul Dor man leke chitchor – Malti Madhav (1951)

Guru Dutt and Waheeda Rahman in the title track from Chaudvin Ka Chand (1960)

D

daghaabaaz: deceitful one || bedardii daghaabaaz jaa – Bluff Master (1953)
dhokebaaz: deceitful one || saiyaa.n jhuuTho.n ka baDaa sartaj…baDaa dhokebaaz niklaa – Do Aankhen Barah Haath (1957)
Dholnaa: beloved ||  ere bin nahii.n jiinaa mar jaanaa Dholnaa – Kachche Dhaage (1999)
diivaanaa (m.)/diivaanii (f.):  crazy/passionate one || ai kaash kisii diivaane ko ham se bhii muhabbat – Aaye Din Bahar Ke (1966)
dilbar: heart-ravisher ||  dilbar mere kab tak mujhe – Satte Pe Satta (1982)
dildaar: heart-ravisher || chalo dildaar chalo chaa.nd ke paar chalo – Pakeezah (1972)
dilnashii.n: one who resides in the heart || aap-saa koii hasii.n dilrubaa o dilnashii.n – Chandi Sona (1977)
dilrubaa: heart-stealer || ai dilrubaa – Rustom Sohrab (1963)
dil toDnevaalaa (m.)/dil toDnevaalii (f.): heart-breaker || dil toDnevaale tujhe dil – Son of India (1962)
dil kaa sahaaraa: my heart’s solace || dil toDnevaale tujhe dil — Son of India (1962)
dulhaa (m.)/dulhan (f.): groom/bride || chalii meri dulhan kii Dolii – Darpan (1970)
dulhaniyaa: bride || le jaaye.nge le jaye.nge dilvaale dulhaniyaa – Chor Machaye Shor (1974)

Amitabh Bacchan and Hema Malini in “Dilbar Mere” from Satte Pe Satta (1982)

G

goraa (m.)/ gorii (f.): fair one || gorii teraa gaa.nv baDaa pyaaraa – Chitchor (1974)
goriyaa: fair one || goriyaa kahaa.n teraa desh re? – Caravan (1974)
gulbadan: rose-bodied one || ai gulbadan phuulo.n kii mahek – Professor (1962)

Amol Palekar and Zarina Wahab in “Gori Tera Gaon Bada Pyara” from Chitchor (1974)

H

hamdam: companion (who shares breaths) || koii hamdam na rahaa – Jhumroo (1960)
hamdard: companion (who shares pain) || manzile.n apnii jagah hai.n – Sharabi (1980)
hamjolii: companion (who shares age) || aaj na chhoDenge bas hamjolii – Kati Patang (1970)
hamnafas: companion (who shares breaths) || koii hamnafas nahii.n – Non-Film
hamnashii.n: companion (who shares a seat) || aa zara mere hamnashii.n – Poonam (1981)
hamnavaah: companion (who shares a voice) || mere hamnafas mere hamnavaah – Non-Film
hamqadam:  companion (who shares footsteps) || aa mere hamqadam – Humkadam (1980)
hamraahii:  companion (who shares a path) || chheD mere hamrahii koii giit aisaa – Mastana (1970)
hamraaz:  companion (who shares secrets) || o mere hamraaz, kaisaa hai yah raaz? –Ghungroo (1981)
hamsafar:  companion (who shares a journey) || tum jo hue mere hamsafar –  12 O’Clock (1958)
harjaayii:  unfaithful one || jaa re jaa o harjaayii – Kalicharan (1976)
hasiinaa: beautiful lady || o hasiinaa zulfo.nvaalii jaan-e-jahaa.n – Teesri Manzil (1966)
hiiriye: diamond-like one || o merii soniye, o merii hiiriye – Insaaniyat Ke Dushman (1987)
hoshiyaar: clever one || ek chatuur naar baDii hoshiyaar – Padosan (1968)
husnvaalaa (m.) / husnvaalii (f.):  beautiful one || husnvaale teraa javaab nahii.n – Gharana (1961)
huur: fairy || yuu.n to ham ne laakh hasii.n dekhe hai.n – Tumsa Nahin Dekha (1957)
huzuur: master || aao huzuur tum ko – Kismat (1968)

Rajesh Khanna and Asha Parekh in “Aaj Na Chhodenge Bas Humjoli” from Kati Patang (1970)

J

jaaduugar:  wizard, magician || jaaduugar saiyaa.n, chhoD morii baiyaa.n – Nagin (1954)
jaa.n:  soul, life, love || merii jaa.n, mujhe jaan na kaho – Anubhav (1971)
jaan-e-adaa: soul of charm || jo vaadaa kiyaa vah nibhaanaa paDegaa – Taj Mahal (1963)
jaan-e-bahaar:  life of Spring || jaan-e-bahaar, husn teraa bemisaal hai  – Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya (1963)
jaan-e-chaman:  life of the flower garden || jaan-e-chaman sholaa badan – Gumnaam (1965)
jaan-e-ghazal: soul of poetry || mere mahbuub tujhe merii muhabbat kii qasam –Mere Mehboob (1963)
jaan-e-hayaa:  soul of modesty || jo vaadaa kiyaa vah nibhaanaa paDegaa – Taj Mahal (1963)
jaan-e-jaa.n:  love of my life || aa jaan-e-jaa.n – Inteqaam (1969)
jaan-e-jaanaa: love of my life || jaan-e-jaanaa yuu.n na dekho mujhe aaj nafrat se – Faulad (1963)
jaan-e-jahaa.n: love of my world || dasht-e-tanhaayii me.n ai jaan-e-jahaa.n – Non-Film
jaan-e-janaana: love of my life || o mere shaah-e-khubaa.n, o merii jaan-e-janaana – Love in Tokyo (1966)
jaan-e-jigar:  love of my heart || are jaan-e-jigar duniyaa me.n – Pukar (1983)
jaan-e-man: love of my heart || jaan-e-man ek nazar dekh le – Mere Mehboob (1963)
jaan-e-tamanna: love of my desires || dil me.n ek jaan-e-tamanna ne jagaah paayii hai -Benazir (1964)
jaan-e-vafaa:  soul of faithfulness || ghairo.n pe karam apno.n pe sitam, ai jaan-e-vafaa – Aankhen (1968)
jaan-e-zindagaanii: love of my life || mujhe ishq hai tujh hi se, merii jaan-e-zindagaanii – Ummeed (1962)
jaanam: darling || jaanam samjhaa karo – Non-Film
jaanevaalaa (m.) / jaanevaalii (f.):  one who leaves || ruk jaa o jaanevaalii – Kanhaiya (1959)
jaanii:  darling || jaanii o jaanii – Raja Jani (1972)
jaanuu:  darling || jaanuu merii jaan, mai.n tere qurbaan – Shaan (1980)
janaab:  your honor/excellency || maanaa janaab ne pukaaraa nahii.n – Paying Guest (1957)
janaab-e-aalii: your honor/excellency || nain tumhaare mazedaar o janaab-e-aalii – Professor (1962)
jhuuThaa (m.) / jhuuThii (f.): liar || manmohanaa baDe jhuuThe – Seema (1955)
jiivan saathii: life partner || mere jiivan saathii – Ek Duje Ke LIye (1981)
jogii:  yogi/devotee (often refers to Lord Krishna) || jogii jab se tu aayaa mere dvaare – Bandini (1963)
jogiyaa:  yogi/devotee (often refers to Lord Krishna) || jogiyaa se priit kiye dukh hoye – Garam Coat (1955)

Nutan in “Jogi Jab Se Tu Aaya Hai from Bandini (1963)

K

kaanchaa (m.)/kaanchii (f.): young boy/girl (Nepali origin) || kaanchii re kaanchi re – Hare Rama Hare Krishna (1972)
kamsin: delicate one || tum kamsin ho nadaan ho – Aayi Milan Ki Bela (1966)
khilaaDii: player ||  manmohanaa baDe jhuuThe – Seema (1955)
khvaab kii taabiir: interpretation of my dreams || mere mahbuub tujhe merii muhabbat kii qasam –Mere Mehboob (1963)

Sadhana in the title track from Mere Mehboob (1963)

M

maahii:  beloved || maahii o maahii dupaTTa de de meraa de – Meena Bazaar (1950)
maahiyaa: beloved || mahiyaa terii qasam haaye jiina nahii.n jiinaa – Ghayal (1989)
maalik (m.)/malikaa (f.): emperor/empress || ai phuulo.n kii raanii, bahaaro.n kii malikaa – Arzoo (1965)
maashuuq (m.)/maashuqaa (f.): lover || maashuuqaa maashuuqaa – Aaj Ka Arjun (1990)
maharbaa.n:  merciful/gracious one || aaiye maharbaa.n baiThiye jaan-e-jaa.n – Howrah Bridge (1958)
mahbuub (m.)/mahbuubaa (f.):  beloved || mere mahbuub qayamat hogii – Mr. X in Bombay  (1964)
mahjaabii.n: moon-faced beauty || sun ai mahjabii.n – Dooj Ka Chand (1964)
makhnaa: beloved || mere pyaar kaa ras zaraa chaknaa, oye makhnaa – Bade Miyan Chhote Miyan (1988)
man-basiyaa: one who resides in the heart ||  aajaa rasiyaa more man-basiyaa – Pilot Officer (1961)
manbhaavan: one who pleases the mind || manbhaavan ke ghar jaaye gorii – Chori Chori (1956)
manmohanaa: enchanter of the heart (often refers to Lord Krishna) || manmohanaa baDe jhuuThe – Seema (1955)
mastaanaa/mastaanii: intoxicating one || diivaanii mastaanii – Bajirao Mastani (2016)
matvaalaa (m.)/matvaalii (f.): intoxicated one ||  koii matvaalaa aayaa mere dvaare – Love in Tokyo (1966)
miit: beloved || aa lauT ke aa jaa mere miit – Rani Roopmati (1957)
mitvaa:  beloved || mere mitvaa mere miit re – Geet (1970)
mrignayanii: doe-eyed || o mrignayanii chandramukhii – Rang Birangi (1982)
musaafir: traveler || path bhuulaa ek aayaa musaafir – Door Gagan Ki Chaaon Mein (1964)

Madhubala in “Aaiye Meherbaan” from Howrah Bridge (1958)

N

naadaa.n: innocent, naive one || balmaa baDaa naadaan re – Albela (1951)
naaznii.n: worthy of pride || naaznii.n baDaa rangii.n hai / hamdam mere – Phir Wohi Dil Laya Hoon (1963)
naazuk: delicate one || kahii.n ek maasuum naazuk-sii laDkii – Shankar Hussain (1977)
nargis-e-mastaanaa: one with intoxicating eyes || ai nargis-e-mastaanaa 
– Arzoo (1965)
natkhat: naughty one || jaa re haT naTkhaT ghunghaT ke paT – Navrang (1959)
naujavaa.n: youthful one || ai naujavaa.n hai sab kuchh yahaa.n – Apradh (1972)
nuurii: my light || aa jaa re aa jaa o mere dilbar…nuurii nuurii – Noorie (1979)

Helen and Feroz Khan in “Aye Naujawan Sab Kuch Yahan” from Apradh (1972)

P

pardaanashii.n: veiled one || sharmaake ye kyo.n sab pardaanashii.n – Chaudvin Ka Chand (1960) 
pardesii: foreign lover || ghar aayaa meraa pardesii – Awaara (1952)
​pardesiyaa: foreign lover || pardesiyaa yah sach hai piyaa – Mr. Natwarlal (1979)
parii: fairy || yuu.n to ham ne laakh hasii.n dekhe hai.n – Tumsa Nahin Dekha (1957)
patthar kaa sanam: stone-hearted lover || patthar ke sanam tujhe ham ne – Patthar Ke Sanam (1967) 
piharavaa: beloved || ab aage terii marzii – Devdas (1955)
pii: beloved || pii bin suunaa re – Hamdard (1953)
piyaa: beloved || piyaa tose naina laage re – Guide (1965)
priye (m.)/priyaa (f.): beloved || kaun hai jo sapno.n me.n aayaa…o priyaa! – Jhuk Gaya Aasman (1967)
priitam: beloved || priitam daras dikhaao – Chacha Zindabad (1959)
pyaar: love || o mere pyaar aa jaa – Bhoot Bangla (1965)

Waheeda Rahman in “Piya Tose Naina Lage Re” from Guide (1965)

Q

qaatil: dangerous one || jaadugar qaatil – Kohinoor (1960)

R

raajaa (m.)/raanii (f.):  king/queen || raajaa kii aayegii baaraat – Aah (1949)
raajkumaar (m.)/raajkumaarii (f.): prince/princess || aa jaa aayii bahaar…o mere raajkumaar – Rajkumar (1964)
raanjhanaa: beloved || aa mere raanjhanaa – Heer (1956)
raazdaar: secret-bearer || itnaa hai tum se pyaar mujhe mere raazdaar – Suraj (1963)
rangiilaa (m.)/rangiilii (f.): colorful one || tuu ne o rangiile kaisaa jaduu kiyaa – Kudrat (1981)
rang rasiyaa: one who romances with colors || o rang rasiyaa re – Paap Aur Punya (1974)
rasik (m.)/rasikaa (f.): passionate one || rasik balmaa – Chori Chori (1956)
rasiyaa: beloved || chalaa bhii aa aa jaa rasiyaa – Man Ki Aankhen (1970)

Nargis in “Rasik Balma” from Chori Chori (1956)

S

saa.nvalaa (m.)/saa.nvalii (f.): dark one (often refers to Lord Krishna) || jaa re saa.nvale salone natkhat baanvaarii – Payal (1957)
saa.nvaraa (m.)/saa.nvarii (f.): dark one (often refers to Lord Krishna) || saa.nvare saa.nvare – Anuradha (1960)
saa.nvariyaa: dark one (often refers to Lord Krishna) || mohe bhuul gaye saa.nvariyaa – Baiju Bawra (1952)
saajan: beloved || mere saajan hai.n us paar – Bandini (1963)
saaqii-e-maikhaanaa: wine-bearer of the tavern || ai nargis-e-mastaanaa – Arzoo (1965)
saaqiyaa: wine-bearer || saaqiyaa aaj mujhe nii.nd nahii.n aaye – Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam (1962)
saathii: companion || o saathii re – Muqaddar Ka Sikandar (1978)
saathiyaa: companion || saathiyaa nahii.n jaanaa – Aaya Sawan Jhoom Ke (1969)
sahibaa: gentleman || sun sahibaa sun – Ram Teri Ganga Maili (1985)
saiyaa.n: beloved || saiyaa.n dil me.n aanaa re – Bahar (1951)
sajanavaa: beloved || sajanavaa bairii ho gaye hamaar –Teesri Kasam (1966=)
sajaniyaa: beloved ||  are chhoD de sajaniyaa – Nagin (1954)
sajnaa (m.)/sajnii (f.):  beloved || o sajnaa barkhaa bahaar aayii – Parakh (1960)
salonaa (m.)/salonii (f.): dark one (often refers to Lord Krishna) ||  o more saa.nvare salone piyaa – Kanhaiya (1959)
sanam: beloved || o mere sanam – Sangam (1964)
sangdil: merciless one || baDe bevafaa hai.n ye husnvaale – Roop Tera Mastana (1972)
sarkaar: overlord || badle badle mere sarkaar aate hai.n – Chaudvin Ka Chand (1960)
shaah-e-khubaa.n: empress of beauty || o mere shaah-e-khubaa.n – Love in Tokyo (1966)
shahazaadaa (m.)/shahazaadii (f.): prince/princess || vaadii-e-ishq se aaya hai meraa shahazaadaa – Non-Film
sharaabii: intoxicated one || mai.n huu.n saaqii, tuu hai sharaabii || Ram Aur Shyam (1967)
sharmiilaa (m.)/sharmiillii (f.): shy one || o merii sharmilii – Sharmilee (1972)
sonaa (m.)/sonii (f.): golden one || o mere sonaa re – Teesri Manzil (1966)
soniyaa (f.)/soniye (m.): handsome/beautiful one || ni soniye – The Train (1970)

Joy Mukherjee and Asha Parekh in “O Mere Shah-E-Khuban” from Love in Tokyo  (1966)

Y

yaar: friend/lover ||  nii mai.n yaar manaanaa nii – Daag (1973)
yaaraa: friend/lover ||  yaara silii silli – Lekin (1991)

Z

zaalim: cruel one ||  zaalim terii aa.nkho.n ne – Devta (1956)
zaalimaa: cruel one || sun sun sun zaalimaa – Aar Paar (1954)
zohraa-jabii.n: one with a forehead shining like Venus || ai merii zohraa-jabii.n – Waqt (1969) 
zulmii: cruel one || zulmii sang aa.nkh laDii – Madhumati (1958)

Vyjayanthimala in “Zulmi Sang Aankh Ladi” from Madhumati (1958)

Vijayantimala gazes at her snake-charmer lover in Nagin (1954)

Today we highlight the lyrics and English translation of the sweet Lata Mangeshkar solo “Jadugar Saiyan” from the hit film Nagin (1954). A lively mandolin solo fades in as a handsome young couple daydream in a jungle grove . There are many reasons why this song is one of Bollywood’s favorites. For me, I think it is because “Jadugar Saiyan” captures that beautiful age of innocence we like believe once existed in Indian romance. This song hearkens us back to a fabricated time when just holding hands could give a man heart palpitations, and all the women sung amazingly just like Lata Mangeshkar.

Mala, played by Vijayantimala, and Sanatan, played by Pradeep Kumar, come from rival spear-throwing adivasi clans whose eclectic livelihood involves capturing live snakes. The feisty, blood-thirsty daughter of the clan chief, Mala, is the definition of bada$$, complete with an intimidating ‘do and a bow-and-arrow ensemble. After hearing the enchanting been melody Sanatan is playing to lure a family of cobras, she falls for him harder than any snake ever had. The feeling is mutual, for even when she later attempts to kill him (he is from a rival family, after all), he’s too hooked to let a minor thing like disregard for human life get between them.

While the lyrics of the song are from the point of view a girl who claims to desperately wish to go home because it’s past her curfew, the tone is completely flirtatious. Throughout the entire song, he does literally nothing to stop her from leaving (unless you count the occasional flex of his bare pectoralis majors), while Mala dances circles around him, initiates impromptu games of tag, and bats her eyelids ferociously. This endearing, almost comical, tension between the girl’s actions and words underscore the wholesome nature of their love affair. I mean, there are probably more scintillating things you could say to entice the man you love other than how your all your besties are going to tease you for being embarrassed later. Mala embodies that purity of intention with just a dash of spice that makes her the quintessential Bollywood heroine.

Vijayantimala pretends to plead with a shirtless Pradeep Kumar in “Jadugar Saiyan” from Nagin (1954).

At the end of the song, Mala’s father arrives to break up the party, spelling utter disaster for our star-crossed couple. Welcome to 1950s Bollywood, people. Sanatan might be able to kill a poisonous cobra with his bare hands, but there can be no worse fate for our hero than to suffer disapproval from his would-be father-in-law.

With lyrics by Rajinder Krishan and music by Hemant Kumar, the soundtrack from Nagin is one of Bollywood’s all-time best. Be sure to check out Vijantimala’s extra special dance moves in the music video, and we hope you love the lyrics and English translation of this delightful song from Nagin as much as we do!

Jadugar Saiyan Lyrics and English Translation:

jaaduugar, saiyaa.N, chhoDo more bai.Nyaa
Magician, beloved, let go of my wrists
ho gayii aadhii raat, ab ghar jaane do
It is midnight, let me go home

jaane de, O rasiiyaa, mere man basiiyaa
Let me leave, O sweet one, for you reside in my mind
gaao.N meraa baDii duur hai
My village is very far away
terii nagariiyaa.N ruk na sakuu.N mai.N
I cannot stop in your town
pyaar meraa majbuur hai
My love is helpless
zanjiir paDii mere haath, ab ghar jaane do
My hands are shackled, now let me go home

jaaduugar, saiyaa.N, chhoDo more bai.Nyaa
Magician, beloved, let go of my wrist
ho gayii aadhii raat, ab ghar jaane do
It is midnight, let me go home

jhukii jhukii a.Nkhiiyaa.N dekhe.Nge saaDii sakhiiyaa.N
All my friends will see my lowered eyes
de.Nge taanaa tere naam kaa
They will tease me with your name
aise mei.N, mat rok, bedardii
Do not stop me like this, unfeeling one
le vachan kal shaam ka
Accept a promise of tomorrow evening
kal ho.Nge phir ham saath, ab ghar jaane do
Tomorrow we will be together again, now let me go home

jaaduugar, saiyaa.N, chhoDo more bai.Nyaa
Magician, beloved, let go of my wrist
ho gayii aadhii raat, ab ghar jaane do
It is midnight, let me go home

Glossary:

jaaduugar: magician; saiyaa.N: beloved; chhoDnaa: to let go; moraa: Braj bhasha term for meraa, my; baiyaa.N: wrists; aadhii raat: midnight; ghar: home; jaane denaa: to allow to go; rasiiyaa: sweet one; man basiyaa: one who resides in the mind; gaao.N: village; baDii: very; duur: far; nagariiyaa.N: town; ruknaa: to stop; pyaar: love; majbuur: helpless, weak; zanjiir: chains, shackles; haath: hands; jhuknaa: to lower, to bow; a.Nkhiiyaa.N: eyes; saaDii: all; sakhiiyaa.N: a girl’s other female friends; taanaa: taunt; naam: name; aise: like this; mat; do not [do something] roknaa: to stop [someone/something]; bedardii: unfeeling one, cruel one; vachan: promise; kal: yesterday/tomorrow; shaam: evening; phir: again, then; saath: together

Vijyantimala plays the fearless daughter of an adivasi chief in Nagin (1954).

Will Mala and Sanatan ultimately have a happy snake-charmed life together? Even without the plot, the film is well-worth watching for the songs and an introduction to the fascinating way classic Bollywood portrays India’s tribal communities (which is a whole other discussion). For a glimpse of another famous shirtless actor from the 1950s, check out our translation of “Yeh Raat Yeh Chandni” from Jaal (1952)! You can thank me later.

This song translation was requested by fan Pankaj. Keep these great requests coming!

-Mrs. 55

Tanuja and Mala Sinha play sisters with opposite personalities who love with the same man in Baharen Phir Bhi Aayengi (1966).

Today we highlight the lyrics and English translation of the gorgeous “Aap Ke Haseen Rukh Pe” from Baharen Phir Bhi Aayengi (1966). The breathtakingly evocative cinematography of this song steals the show–and that’s a difficult feat with Urdu lyrics dripping with this much beauty. Eminent director Guru Dutt tragically died while directing this film, and it was later finished by Shaheed Latif. As a result, Baharen Phir Bhi Aayengi seems to have all the elements of a great work of poetic realism, but lacks all the magic. Dutt’s starring role was eventually replaced by Dharmendra, who is easy on the eyes, but never quite commands the scene like his predecessor.

Dharmendra plays an upright investigative journalist employed by a newspaper company owned by Mala Sinha, a pragmatic entrepreneur fighting for her beliefs in a male-dominated world. Her personal sacrifices have allowed for her younger sister (played by Tanuja) to be raised in a lifestyle of ease and self-indulgence. Mala Sinha begins to fall in love with Dharmendra as his caring manner and flattering attentions opens up the possibility for the romantic fulfillment she had long denied herself. Meanwhile, Tanuja’s girlishly flirtacious advances toward Dharmendra appear not unwanted, completing the dramatic love triangle. Neither sister knows of the other’s intentions, and the audience anxiously awaits the moment when one will discover the truth. Whom will Dharmendra ultimately choose?

At least for the audience, that answer comes during one of the most romantic Mohammed Rafi songs of Bollywood: “Aap Ke Haseen Rukh Pe.” The cinematography of the film is by K.G. Prabhakar (whose strong legacy includes working as assistant camera in Guru Dutt masterpieces Sahib Bibi Aur Ghulam, Kaagaz Ke Phool and Pyaasa). The first thing you might notice about Baharen Phir Bhi Aayengi is the (lack of) colour. By 1966, Eastmancolor was by far the norm in Bollywood. Shooting this film in black-and-white stock therefore was a deliberate choice. Guru Dutt never filmed a movie in color (with the exception of a rare scene here and there, eg. “Chaudhvin Ka Chand“), and his films carry a haunting charm. Prabhakar uses creative camera angles and perfectly choreographed movements to convey the message of true love. The exquisite cinematography coupled with a combination of Anjaan’s ornate balladry, the dreamlike piano solo, and Mohammed Rafi’s hypnotically romantic vocals make this song a vision of what film should be.

Shots of the two sisters mimic one another throughout “Aap Ke Haseen Rukh Pe,” heightening the dramatic irony. Here, both sisters shyly glance up toward Dharmendra as they each believe lines from his song are sung exclusively for them. Even their cat-eyeliner and penciled eyebrows are in fierce competition.

Early in the song, the camera choices are critical to casting doubt about to whom Dharmendra is truly singing. Prabhakar shoots the siblings’ reactions and movements in parallel, with each sister’s gazes mimicking the other such that even the audience grows uncomfortable, knowing one of them must be mistaken.

This master shot creates a literal love triangle in the mis-en-scene and defines both their spatial and emotional relationships.

By the middle of the song, both sisters approach Dharmendra so that all three can be captured in the same shot, creating a fascinating opportunity for the cinematographer. In the master shot pictured above, the camera is placed behind Dharmendra’s shoulder, creating a visual triangle formed by the lid of the grand piano to underscore the romantic triangle blossoming before our eyes. This angle also allows a gorgeous moment of symbolism within the mis-en-scene through the placement of the main characters. Tanuja, whose love is confident and eager, leans toward Dharmendra into the light source, while Mala Sinha, whose love is more careful and protected, stands further away in the shadows, avoiding his direct gaze. Sinha is framed by the piano lid at the pinnacle of the triangle, literally surrounded by the music that has changed how she views the world.

From a profile shot of Dharmendra to a medium reaction shot of Mala Sinha, the eyelines are ambiguous. Is he singing to Tanuja or to Mala Sinha?

Next, the audience is cleverly teased by the camera with a series of shots that heighten the romantic ambiguity. Prabhakar films a profile shot of Dharmendra singing, so that from the viewer’s perspective, he is just as likely to be making eye contact with Mala Sinha as with Tanuja. He brings the camera into Dharmendra’s seat for Mala Sinha’s reaction so that what we see is as if from Dharmendra’s own perspective. Tension mounts! A reverse shot from Mala Sinha’s position of Dharmendra would close the communicative loop, and we would finally have our answer that the two are definitely looking at one another, and both know it. Alas! Baharen Phir Bhi Aayengi is not so simple.

The classic over-the-shoulder shot-reverse shot sequence ultimately seals Tanuja as the object of Dharmendra’s affection.

Finally, the camera gives its long-held secret away. At the end of the ballad, two consecutive shots with matching eyelines betray Tanuja and Dharmendra as the primary romantic couple of the film. The camera cuts from an over-the-shoulder shot of Tanuja to a reverse over-the-shoulder shot of Dharmendra. His gaze is now clearly directed at only one sister. Meanwhile, Mala Sinha appears tragically oblivious, wandering to the window to daydream of what we now know is impossible.

We hope you fall in love with the lyrics and our English translation of “Aap Ke Haseen Rukh Pe” below. When words like chuur-chuur and kashish are tossed around lightly in a Bollywood song, you know you’re in for some solidly gorgeous poetry! Follow along with the cinematography of the film here and let us know which sister you were rooting for in the comments!

Aap Ke Haseen Rukh Pe Lyrics and Translation:

aap ke hasee.N rukh pe aaj nayaa nuur hai
Upon your beautiful face today is a new light
meraa dil machal gayaa, to meraa kyaa qusuur hai?
If my heart trembled, what fault is it of mine?
aap ke nigaah ne kahaa to kuch zaruur hai
Your glance said something surely
meraa dil machal gayaa to meraa kyaa qusuur hai?
If my heart trembled, what fault is it of mine?

khulii laTo.N ki chhaao.N mei.N, khilaa khilaa yeh ruup hai
In the shade of your open tresses, this beauty bloomed
ghaTaa se jaise chhan rahii, subaah subaah kii dhuup hai
As if morning sunlight is streaming through a cloud
jidhar nazar muDii ,udhar suruur hii suruur hai
In whichever direction my gaze turns, there is only pleasure upon pleasure
meraa dil machal gayaa to meraa kyaa qusuur hai?
If my heart trembled, what fault is it of mine?

jhukii jhukii nigaah mei.N bhii hai.N balaa ki shokhiyaa.N
In your shy lowered gaze is also a calamity of mischief
Dabii Dabii ha.Nsii mei.N bhii, taDap rahii hai.N bijliiyaa.N
Even in your suppressed laughter, lightening is pulsing
shabaab aap kaa nashe mei.N khud hii chuur-chuur hai
Your youthfulness dissolves itself in intoxication
meraa dil machal gayaa to meraa kyaa qusuur hai?
If my heart trembled, what fault is it of mine?

jahaa.N jahaa.N paDe qaDam, wahaa.N fizaa badal gayii
Wherever your foot falls, there the wind changes
ki jaise sar-basar bahaar aap hii mei.N Dhal gayii
As if the whole of Spring descended into you
kisi mei.N yeh kashish kahaa.N jo aap mei.N huzuur hai?
Where is this allure in anyone that is present in you?
meraa dil machal gayaa to meraa kyaa qusuur hai?
If my heart trembled, what fault is it of mine?

aapke haseen rukh pe aaj naya noor hai
Upon your beautiful face today is a new light
meraa dil machal gayaa to meraa kyaa qusuur hai?
If my heart trembled, what fault is it of mine?
aap ke nigaahon ne kahaa to kuch zaruur hai
Your glances said something surely
meraa dil machal gayaa to meraa kyaa qusuur hai?
If my heart trembled, what fault is it of mine?
Hmm hmm hmm…hmm hmm hmm

Glossary:

hasee.N: beautiful; rukh: face; aaj: today; nayaa: new; nuur: light; dil: heart; machalnaa: to quiver, to tremble; qusuur: fault; nigaah: glance; zaruur: surely, of course; khulaa: open; laT: tresses; chhaao.N: shadow, shade; khilnaa: to bloom; ruup: beauty; ghaTaa: cloud; chhannaa: to stream; subaah: morning; dhuup: sunlight; jidhar; in whichever direction; nazar: gaze, eyes; muDnaa: to turn around; udhar: in that direction; suruur: pleasure, addiction; jhuknaa: to bow, to lower; balaa: calamity, misfortune; shokhii: mischief; Dabnaa: to suppress; ha.Nsii: laughter; taDapnaa: to flutter; bijlii: lightening; shabaab: youth; nashaa: intoxication; khud: self; chuur-chuur: pulverized, dissolved; jahaa.N: where; paDnaa: to step; qadam: footstep; wahaa.N: there; fizaa: wind, atmosphere; badalnaa: to change; jaise: like, as if; sar-basaar: entire, whole; bahaar: Spring; Dhalnaa: to set, to descend; kisii mei.N: in someone; kashish: allure, charm; huzuur: present

A brief word on the nuances between English and Urdu-Hindi. I struggled to translate bijliiyaan and shokhiyaan, plurals of the feminine nouns bijlii and shokii respectively. In English, the word lightening does not necessarily imply the number of bolts (singular versus plural), however bijliyaan clear indicates multiple bolts of lightening. Similarly, shokhii, meaning mischief in English, becomes a series of mischievous activities in the plural shokhiiyaan–however there is no simple plural of the word mischief in English (although in and of itself, the word mischief in English can imply plurality, but not necessarily). I also find that when used in Urdu-Hindi, especially romantic songs, shokhii has a much more playful connotation than the potentially negative associations of mischief in English. Isn’t language a wonderful thing?

A stunning dolly shot of Mala Sinha from outside the window represents her emotional imprisonment from which Dharmendra offers a chance at escape.

Guru Dutt and Mala Sinha are NOT actually waltzing in the iconic song “Hum Aap Ki Ankhon Mein” from Pyaasa (1957).

The waltz is a beautiful dance form with music in triple meter that originated in 16th century Germany. The name is derived from the Latin volvere, describing the ensemble rotations of the dancers. So what place does the waltz have in 20th century Bollywood films? How did this art form cross continents and cultures?

I first starting looking closely at waltz songs in classic Bollywood films when trying to select a song for my husband and my “first dance” at our wedding. I wanted to use an old Bollywood song for this western tradition, and found myself unsure where to start looking. My mind jumped to the most iconic waltz dance from Bollywood I could think of: who doesn’t recall the serene dream sequence from Pyaasa (1957) in which Guru Dutt and Mala Sinha twirl together through the mist? There was just one issue: “Hum Aap Ki Ankhon Mein” was not actually a waltz.

Meena Kumari and Kishore Kumar waltz to O.P. Nayyar’s “Mere Neendon Mein Tum” from Naya Andaz (1956).

Yup. You and I were both fooled. As I discovered the distinct triple meter of the waltz is not ubiquitous in classic Bollywood, nor can you really fake dancing a waltz to anything else. The 3/4 meter of the waltz bears a similarity to the Hindustani dadra 6/8 meter, paving the way for a transition across continents. You can recognize the distinct rhythm of the waltz by listening for a strong first beat followed by two lighter beats. A common mistake is that many people think when dancing the waltz, the first beat is when both dancers move “up.” In reality, that first strong beat is when the dancers may move downwards in unison, and return to normal height (or on the balls of their feet) for the lighter beats following. There are many variations to this pattern, but generally, it gives the waltz dancers that beautiful wave-like cadence as if they are floating across the floor.

The waltz assumes many unexpected incarnations in classic Bollywood, exemplifying everything from urban glamour to girlish excitement to full-out pity party. The first known appearance of waltz in a Bollywood song is in “Hum Aur Tum Aur Yeh Khushi” from Ali Baba (1940) composed by the legendary Anil Biswas. Music director Naushad, known for his brilliant Hindustani classical compositions, helped usher the waltz rhythm into Bollywood mainstream as early as with the tragic “Tod Diya Dil Mera” from Andaz (1949), “Ab Raat Milan Ki” from Jadoo (1951), and “Tara Ri Yara Ri” from Dastan (1952). S.D. Burman highlighted the waltz in his hit House No. 44 (1955) with amorous ballads “Phaili Hui Hai Sapnon” and”Chhup Hai Dharti.” By the late 1950s, the waltz was adopted by nearly every composer, developing an important place in Bollywood well into the 1970s.

Nargis’ surprisingly incredible waltz moves school everyone in “Dil Ki Girah Khol Do” from Raat Aur Din (1967). And you thought she was only cut out for the village belle.

In Hindi films, a song with a waltz rhythm need not always portray a couple dancing–in fact, some of the best waltz songs create tension by not showing the couple come together. Other times, such as in Nargis’ incredible performance in Raat or Aur Din (1967), waltzing with ease was a sign of Western sophistication and elitism. The waltz gained a brief romantic revival in the 1990s with the super hit song “Kuch Na Kaho” from 1942: A Love Story (1993). But this song became quickly overdone at every Indian function I attended growing up, so I refused to use it at my own wedding. I needed a list of off-the-beaten-path waltz songs from classic Bollywood that would still make us look stylish.

Raj Kapoor and Nadira dance together singing “Mud Mud Ke Na Dekh,” which begins as a lilting waltz in Shree 420 (1955).

But when I was planning my wedding, I never found that list. It’s as though thousands of men and women out there aren’t actually scrambling to dance to a Mohammed Rafi song in front of all their friends and family. I don’t get it. To the couple out there who wants to have the coolest wedding ever, this list is my gift to you!

20 Waltz Songs from Classic Bollywood Films:

1. Lag Ja Gale (Woh Kaun Thi? 1964)

2. Dil Ki Nazar Se (Anadi 1959)

3. Dil Ki Girah Khol Do (Raat Aur Din 1967)

4. Mud Mud Ke Na Dekh (Shree 420 1955)

5. Dil Ke Jharoke (Brahmachari 1968)

6. Yeh Raaten Yeh Mausam (Dilli Ka Thug 1958)

7. Mere Neendon Mein Tum (Naya Andaz 1956)

8. Phoolon Ke Rang Se (Prem Pujari 1969)

9. Hum Aur Tum Aur Yeh Sama (Dil Deke Dekho 1959)

10. Udhar Tum Haseen Ho (Mr. and Mrs. ’55 1955)

11. Yeh Hai Bombay Meri Jaan (C.I.D. 1956)

12. Jeena Yahan Marna Yahan (Mera Naam Joker 1970)

13. Main Shayar To Nahin (Bobby 1973)

14. Phaili Hui Hai Sapnon (House No. 44 1955)

15. Tod Diya Dil Mera (Andaz 1949)

16. Chhup Hai Dharti (House No. 44 1955)

17. Geet Gaata Hoon Main (Lal Patthar 1971)

18. Tara Ri Yara Ri (Dastan 1950)

19. Tera Aana Ik Pal Meri (Hum Naujawan 1985)

20. Aaja Panchi Akela Hai (No Do Gyarah 1957)

My husband and my ‘first dance’ at our wedding: a waltz to Lata Mangeshkar’s “Lag Ja Gale.” When watching the video of us later, it was clear that I was no Nargis, but at least we had fun!

We ultimately decided on the Viennese waltz “Lag Ja Gale” for our first dance, which proved pretty ambitious for two people whose primary dance skills involved interpretive bhangra. Don’t see your favorite Bollywood waltz on our list? Let us know what other Bollywood waltzes you love in the comments!

– Mrs. 55

On June 12, 2016, the deadliest mass shooting in modern American history took place at Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Florida. This tragedy took the lives of 49 innocent victims and wounded at least 53 more. The majority of victims targeted in this violent massacre were LGBT people of color. We stand in solidarity with Orlando and pay tribute to the lives lost in this hate-fueled tragedy through the translation of a timeless song from Mughal-E-Azam (1960): “pyaar kiyaa to Darnaa kyaa?”

Madhubala’s portrayal of Anarkali in Mughal-E-Azam (1960) is widely considered to be her greatest work.

Mughal-E-Azam (1960), directed by K. Asif, narrates the story of forbidden love between Anarkali (played by Madhubala) and Salim (Dilip Kumar). Salim, prince of the Mughal empire, falls in love with Anarkali, a beautiful dancer in the royal court. Emperor Akbar, Salim’s father, is outraged by his son’s relationship with a lowly courtesan. The ensuing conflict between Akbar and Salim, with Anarkali caught in the middle, results in a war between father and son that culminates in a tragic conclusion on all sides.

Although the love story of Salim and Anarkali has been dramatized several times over the decades, this depiction has become immortalized as a masterpiece in the realm of Hindi cinema. This film is considered a crowning glory of the careers for several of the artists involved, especially actress Madhubala, playback singer Lata Mangeshkar, music director Naushad, and lyricist Shakeel Badayuni.

With poignant eloquence, “Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya?” embodies the spirit of bravery in love.  Indeed, this song expresses a universal message that originates from the time of Mughal emperors yet still resonates today. It inspires us to fight for those we love, to have courage in the face of adversity, and to live our lives freely without fear.

In light of the recent tragedy, let it also be a reminder that love can be expressed in many different ways. Those who love differently from the norm should not be afraid of expressing themselves simply for being who they are. By promoting tolerance over hate, we must come together and take a stand against the persecution of the LGBT community in today’s society.

After all, we cannot forget that love is love.

-Mr. ’55

Madhubala brazenly defies societal norms in the royal court of Emperor Akbar in Mughal-E-Azam (1960)

Pyar Kiya To Darna Kya: Lyrics and English Translation

insaan kisii se duniyaa me.n ek baar muhabbat kartaa hai
An individual only falls in love once in this world.
is dard ko lekar jiitaa hai, is dard ko lekar martaa hai 
He lives with this pain, and he dies with this pain.

pyaar kiyaa to Darnaa kyaa?
If I have loved, then why must I be afraid?
pyaar kiyaa koii chorii nahii.n kii
I have simply loved; I have committed no theft.
chhup chhup aahe.n bharnaa kyaa?
Then, why must I heave these sighs of pain in secrecy?

aaj kahe.nge dil kaa fasaanaa
Today, I will narrate the story of my heart,
jaan bhii le le chaahe zamaanaa
even if the world takes my life.
maut vahii jo duniyaa dekhe
If death is only accepted when witnessed by the world,
ghuT ghuT kar yuu.n marnaa kyaa?
then why must I die by suffocating alone?

unkii tamanna dil me.n rahegii
My desire for him will continue to grow in my heart.
shamma isii mahfil me.n rahegii
The flame will continue to burn in this gathering.
ishq me.n jiinaa, ishq me.n marnaa
After living in love and dying in love,
aur hame.n ab karnaa kyaa?
what else remains for me to do?

chhup na sakegaa ishq hamaraa
My love cannot be hidden,
chaaro.n taraf hai unkaa nazaaraa
it can be seen in all four directions.
pardaa nahii.n hai jab koii khudaa se,
If I do not wear a veil in front of God,
bando.n se pardaa karnaa kyaa?
why must my love remain veiled from society?

pyaar kiyaa to Darnaa kyaa?
If I have loved, then why must I be afraid?

Glossary

insaan: person, human; dard: pain; Darnaa: to fear; chorii: theft; aahe.n bharnaa: to heave sighs; fasanaa: story; zamaanaa: society, world; maut: death; ghuTnaa: to suffocate; tamanna: desire; shamma: flame; ishq: love; nazaaraa: sight; pardaa: veil: banda: person, human.

Mughal-E-Azam (1960) became the first Hindi feature film to be digitally colorized for re-release in theaters in 2004.

Madhubala peers at Kishore Kumar through a car window in “Ek Ladki Bheegi Bhagi Si” from Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi (1958).

In Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi, Kishore Kumar plays a hapless car mechanic who fixes the broken vehicle of a young lady, Madhubala, who both mesmerizes him and vexes him by not paying for the repairs. “Ek Ladki Bheegi Bhaagi Si” is arguably the most iconic song from the film and bears a Guru Dutt-esque quality of flowing seamlessly from the dialogue to the opening bars. Composed by S.D. Burman and written by Majrooh Sultanpuri, the song exudes the charm of a Broadway showtune that transforms every twist of a wrench and glance through an open car window into a romantic overture, easily one of the most inspiring songs of the monsoon season.

Kishore Kumar plays an entertaining car mechanic desperately in love with Madhubala in the hit comedy “Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi” (1958).

The adorable chemistry between Kishore Kumar and Madhubala is palpable. You can see what each loved about each other that was shared in their real-life romance. Sadly, Madhubala died prematurely at the age of 38, leaving him heartbroken only 3 years after their marriage. Join us below as we navigate the lyrics and English translation of “Ek Ladki Bheegi Bhaagi Si.” Follow along with the video here, and I dare you to try to get through the whole song without smiling!

Ek Ladki Bheegi Bhaagi Si Lyrics and Translation:

Ek laDki bhiigi bhaagi sii
A girl who appears rather wet
Sotii raaton mei.N jaagi sii
And seems awake in a sleepy night
Milii ek ajnabii se
She met a stranger
Koii aage na piichhe
No one preceded or followed her
Tum hii kaho yeh koii baat hai!
You tell me if this is appropriate!

Hmm…

Dil hii dil mei.N jalii jaatii hai.N
In her heart of hearts, she is burning
BigaDii bigaDii chalii aatii hai.N…
In a bad mood, she approaches
Jhunjhalaatii hui, balkhaatii huii
Sulking, swaying
Saawan ki sunii raat mei.N
In this quiet monsoon night

Milii ek ajnabii se
She met a stranger
Koii aage na piichhe
No one preceded or followed her
Tum hii kaho yeh koii baat hai!
You tell me if this is appropriate!

Dagmag Dagmag, lehakii lehakii
Wobbling, wavering
Bhuulii bhaT kii behakii behakii
With lost steps, she wanders
Machalii machalii, ghar se nikalii
Restless, she left her home
Paglii sii kalii raat mei.N
Acting a bit crazy in this black night

Tan bhiigaa hai, sar giilaa hai
Her body is drenched, her head is wet
Uskaa koii pech bhii Dhiila hai!
One of her screws must also be loose!
Tanatii, jhuktii, chaltii, rukhtii
Strutting, cowering, moving, then pausing
Nikalii andherii raat mei.N
She emerged into this dark night

Milii ek ajnabii se
She met a stranger
Koii aage na piichhe
No one preceded or followed her
Tum hii kaho yeh koii baat hai!
You tell me if this is appropriate!

Hmm…

Glossary:

ladkii: girl; bheegii-bhaagii: wet, drenched; sonaa: to sleep; raat: night; jaagii: awake; milnaa: to meet; ajnabii: stranger; koi: someone; aage: ahead; peechhe: behind; baat: issue, matter; dil: heart; jalnaa: to burn; bigaDnaa: to deteriorate, to become in a bad mood; jhunjhalaanaa: to scoff, to sulk; balkaanaa: to sway, to move in a circle; sawaan: the rainy season; sunii: lonely, quiet; Dagmag: wobbly; lehakii: wavering; bhuulii: lost, forgotten; bhaT: steps; behakii: wandering; machalnaa: to become restless; ghar: home; nikalnaa: to emerge, to come out; tan: body; sar: head; giilaa: wet; pech Dheela: loose screw; tanatnaa: to strut; to appear confident; jhuknaa: to bow; chalnaa: to go; rukhnaa: to stop; andheraa: dark

Kishore Kumar’s genius comedic timing remains timeless in “Ek Ladki Bheegi Bhaagi Si” from Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi (1958).

And while I have a captive audience, let’s also examine the grammar of “bheegii/bhaagii sii.” Tacking on the “sii” (feminine) or “saa” (masculine) to any adjective in Hindi softens the descriptor (somewhat like the way in English we sometimes add “ish” to the end of adjectives) or indicates “a little”–as in, she is “a little” wet. A common example you’ll hear is “chhoTaa saa/chhoTii sii” as in the classic Bollywood heroine’s wish to have nothing more than “ek chhoTaa sa ghar” with her faithful husband. But we digress.

– Mrs. 55

Rajesh Khanna plays a hard-working college student from a poor family in Do Raaste (1969).

Today we highlight the poignant lyrics and our English translation of”Khiza Ke Phool Pe” from Do Raaste (1969). Do Raaste is a classic family drama that hits hard on the tension between Eastern and Western values through an exploration of the dissolution of a joint family household. When one of the sons marries a rich “modernized” Indian girl who refuses to allow him to help pay off his family debt, the remaining family members fall into poverty. The youngest son, played to perfection by Rajesh Khanna, must compromise his education by dropping out of college in order to support the family. He arrives at the birthday party of his wealthy girlfriend, played by Mumtaz (whose cutesy performance will at times make you want to hang yourself on the chandelier), and realizes that he no longer belongs in her world. The ensuing flood of feelings results in the beautiful ballad “Khiza Ke Phool Pe” written by Anand Bakshki with music by Laxmikant-Pyarelaal. Kishore Kumar’s voice takes on an initially softer, velvety shade that transitions fluidly to a powerful angst at the end of each antra. I dare you not to sigh when he croons, “mai.N roz lab pe naii ek aah taktaa huu.N.”

Though she says nothing that would disrupt the song, Mumtaz appears quite understandably mortified at his public display and rejection. For more uncomfortable dinner parties in Bollywood films, refer to our how-to guide on how to play the awkward miffed lover.

Mumtaz is heartbroken as Rajesh Khanna announces at her birthday party that they cannot be married in Do Raaste (1969).

Reminiscent of the hallowed “Waqt Ne Kiya” cinematography, in “Khiza Ke Phool Pe,” the camera simply soars with the gloriously endless dolly-ins and dolly-outs to accentuate each poetic moment, as if everyone weren’t already emotionally fragile after seeing Rajesh Khanna fight back tears. I applaud the film director Raj Khosla, despite the kitsch film set. It screams of the 70s–emphasizing all those quasi-luxurious domestic ornaments that would in no way possibly make your life any better. The tinted glass cutout room divider is a textbook case in point. Still, the film crew made lemonade out of life’s interior design lemons.

Rajesh Khanna and Mumtaz are separated by a bizarre art deco glass structure in her living room in the shot-reverse-shot sequence above. Note how in order to achieve this sequence with the actors seemingly continuing to face each other, Rajesh Khanna must move from the yellow panel to the blue panel on Mumtaz’s right for the reverse shot (below), breaking true visual continuity.

Check out the music video here and keep a box of tissues handy. We invite you join us below in our English translation and lyrics of the heartfelt ballad “Khiza Ke Phool Pe” below:

Khiza Ke Phool Pe Lyrics and Translation:

Khizaa ke phuul pe aati kabhii bahaar nahii.N
The flower of Autumn never sees the Spring
Mere naseeb mei.N, aye dost, teraa pyaar nahii.N
I was not destined for your love, oh friend

Na jaane pyaar mei.N kab mai.N zubaa.N se phir jaauu.N
I do not know when in love I may go back on my words
Mai.N ban ke aa.Nsuu khud apnii nazar se gir jaauu.N
As I cry, I may fall in my own eyes
Terii qasam hai meraa koii aitbaar nahii.N
I swear by you, I have no confidence
Mere naseeb mei.N, aye dost, teraa pyaar nahii.N
I was not destined for your love, oh friend

Main roz lab pe nayii ek aah taktaa huu.N
Every day, a new sigh reaches my lips
Main roz ek naye gham kii raah taktaa huu.N
Every day, I await the arrival of a new sorrow
Kisii khushii kaa mere dil ko intezaar nahii.N
My heart is not waiting for any joy
Mere naseeb mei.N, aye dost, teraa pyaar nahii.N
I was not destined for your love, oh friend

Ghariib kaise mohabbat kare amiiro.N se?
How can someone poor love someone rich?
BichhaD gaye hai.N kaii Raanjhe apnii Heero.N se
Many heroes have been separated from their heroines
Kisi ko apne muqaddar pe ikhtiyaar nahii.N
No one has a choice over their fate
Mere naseeb mei.N, aye dost, teraa pyaar nahii.N
I was not destined for your love, oh friend

Khizaa ke phuul pe aati kabhi bahaar nahii.N
The flower of Autumn never sees the Spring
Mere naseeb mei.N, aye dost, teraa pyaar nahii.N
In my fate, oh friend, is not your love

Glossary:

khizaa: Autumn; phuul: flower; bahaar: Spring; kabhii nahii.N: never; naseeb: destiny, fortune; dost: friend; pyaar: love; na jaane: [I] do not know, [who] knows; kab: when; zubaan.N: word, language; phir jaanaa: go back; aa.Nsuu: tears; khud: self; nazar: eyes, gaze; girnaa: to fall; qasam: swear; aitbaar: confidence, trust; roz: every day; lab: lip; nayii: new; aah: sigh; gham: sorrow; raah taknaa: to await; khushii: happiness; [kisi ka] intezaar hona: to wait [for something]; ghariib: poor; mohabbat: love; amiir: rich; bichhaD jaanaa: to become separated; Raanjhaa: hero of a classic Hindustani tale of star-crossed lovers; Heer: heroine of a classic Hindustani tale of star-crossed lovers; muqaddar: fate; ikhtiyaar: choice

Now go cheer yourself up with a pumpkin spice latte and wipe those tears off your face by indulging in a symphony of Rajesh Khanna winks.

– Mrs. 55

Raj Kapoor in a promotional photograph for Dil Hi To Hai (1963) sporting a suave ‘m’ mustache.

Happy Movember! This lovely time of year is a month when men around the world grow out their mustaches to change the face of men’s healthcare–such as through raising awareness for prostate and testicular cancer. Read more about the Movember Foundation here!

Inspired by this movement, today we present a definitive ranking of men’s facial hair in classic Bollywood films, a photographic indulgence of every important mustache and beard that hit the silver screens of Bombay and then bounced straight into our souls. And God knows we needed something this in our lives after that f*$&ing insane apocalypse difficult election week. But be forewarned, some of these manes can bite–and others might make you suddenly feel itchy. Most of all, that fluttering sensation in your chest like a fluffy mustache tickling your heart–that’s called love.

A Definitive Ranking of Men’s Facial Hair in Classic Bollywood Films

15. Kishore Kumar’s waxed perfection in Padosan (1968)

His mustache is basically a pair of angel wings.

14. Shashi Kapoor’s deadly combo in Chor Sipahee (1979)

Shashi shines in a shaggy beard and a full-bodied mustache with just a hint of delicate curl. Looking bad never looked so good.

13. Amitabh Bachhan’s full coverage in Do Anjaane (1976)

Amitabh goes incognito behind a blanket of his generous wool.

12. Pradeep Kumar’s Mughal-style beard in Taj Mahal (1963)

The Mughals were champions of many things including the artistry of a man’s face. Note the paintbrush side-burns that complete this regal look.

11. Rishi Kapoor’s bad boy scruff in Laila Manju (1979)

Rishi may be dying of thirst, but his scruff is on fleek right now.

10. Pran’s proud Pathan mane in Zanjeer (1973)

Pran is a class act as a Pathan sporting a well-tamed auburn fur coating.

9. Vinod Khanna’s caterpillar mustache in Amar, Akbar, Anthony (1977)

Something alive might actually be crawling on his face. Something beautiful and shimmering.

8. Shammi Kapoor’s fluffy goatee in Professor (1962)

While this look should never be tried at home, Shammi’s iconic goatee made men of boys.

7. Jeetendra’s provocative chevron mustache in Parichay (1972)

The only thing fuzzier than the tuft of fur nestled in the dimple of Jeetendra’s upper lip is his vision through those thick hipster lenses.

6. Dev Anand’s curly mustache in Hum Dono (1961)

Thoughtful, courteous, and deadly–the curly mustache of Dev Anand is nothing short of a war hero.

5. Manoj Kumar’s patriotic handlebar in Shaheed (1965)

Because nothing quite says “Inquilab Zindabad” like a well-trimmed mustache.

4. Raj Kapoor’s pyramidal mustache in Awaara (1951)

Once a classic, always a classic. The Egyptians building Giza had no idea what they were inspiring.

3. Rajesh Khanna’s hipster beard in Do Raaste (1969)

Be still my beating heart. I bet there’s a dozen plaid shirts in his closet, and that he listens to actual CDs on his walkman because he just wants to be authentic.

2. Guru Dutt’s emotional mustache in Pyaasa (1957)

The only thing quivering more than Guru Dutt’s voice is the 4 mm diameter patch of heaven resting on his upper lip

1. WINNER: Rajkumar’s devastating pencil mustache in Pakeezah (1972)

I DIE THE SWEET DEATH BY LOVE OF A MUSTACHE. There are few things in life greater than this show-stealing masterpiece of men’s grooming.

Men, time to take a hard look in the mirror and evaluate if you’re really bringing your full potential to the world. And remember, just because we all love to see a little facial hair in November, it is NEVER OK to flash your chest hair in public in broad daylight à la Amitabh Bachhan, even if it’s just an unsightly tuft from your too-many-buttons-unbuttoned polo shirt. The 70s are over. These things are not equivocal. I just felt like that had to be said.

You’re welcome.

– Mrs. 55

Rajesh Khanna gives Tanuja an unusual jumpstart with a herd of elephants in Haathi Mere Saathi (1971).

Today we present the delightful lyrics and English translation of everyone’s childhood favorite song “Chal Chal Chal Mere Haathi” from Haathi Mere Saathi (1971). Rajesh Khanna star as orphaned Raju who makes fast friends with a herd of elephants that protect him and become like family. Among them, Ramu, is the star elephant who helps Raju build a fortune as a street performer, eventually allowing Raju to build a zoo where the community can share in his love of animals. The song “Chal Chal Chal Mere Haathi” during which Rajesh Khanna and Tanuja fall in love is a quintessential “only-in-Bollywood” moment. Where on earth (besides your wildest fantasies) will you ever see a convertible pushed by a group of elephants as a mechanism of securing the romance?

Tanuja plays the cleverly named Tanu whose gorgeous red Chevrolet Impala convertible breaks down in the middle of the road. Raju happens to arrive at the critical moment to help this damsel in distress! Fortunately, the elephant crew knows how to drive that puppy straight to the heart.

Rajesh Khanna rubs noses with his favorite elephant and they both look happy AF.

Kishore Kumar lends his rich voice to Laxmikant-Pyarelal’s playful composition. Anand Bakshi’s lyrics burst with flirtatious overtures as well as underhanded zingers while the singer teasingly appears to solely address the elephants the entire time. A hearty trumpet is gloriously sprinkled throughout the song’s score as a substitute for the elephants roaring their approval. Be sure to watch extra carefully during the swift stunt in which Rajesh Khanna appears to float to the top of the elephant. Anyone who has taken a good old-fashioned haathi ride during a trip to the motherland knows ascending the elephant is NEVER this graceful. Thank you, awkwardly crouched production assistants who gave our hero the leg-up!

Tanuja pretends to drive as Rajesh Khanna whistles flirtatiously in her ear in Haathi Mere Saathi (1971). I mean it, take off those driving gloves, we all know steering is futile.

So pull up a high-chair and reel your kids in for this one. They’re going to love our English translation of the lyrics of “Chal Chal Chal Mere Haathi” and you’ll be glad a world still exists this innocent and colorful, even if only for a few minutes on-screen. Follow along with the video here and enjoy our translation below!

Chal Chal Chal Mere Haathi Lyrics and English Translation:

Chal chal chal mere saathii, O mere haathii
Let’s go, my companion, O my elephant
Chal le chal kaTaaraa khii.Nch ke
Come pull this piece of junk
Chal yaar, dhakka maar
Go on, friend, push!
Band hai moTar kaar
The motor car is broken down
Chal yaar dhakka maar
Go on, friend, push!
Chal chal chal mere saathii…

Phuulo.N se naazuk hai woh, moTar mei.N baiThii hai jo
She who sits in the car is more delicate than a flower
Aahistaa aahistaa chal, usko na taqliif ho
Go carefully, let her not experience any trouble
Haaye, haaye, kha na jaaye
Haaye, haaye, let it not consume me
Uskii naazuk kamariiyaa bal, chal!
The swaying of her delicate hips, let’s go!
Chal chal chal mere saathii…

Khidmat terii kaam de, shaayad woh inaam de
If your service is successful, perhaps she will reward you
Kar us hasii.N ko salaam, aa.Nkhon se paighaam de
If you salute the beautiful lady, she may send you a message through her eyes
Paas aaja, O sun raajaa
Come close, listen O King
Aisa mauqaa na jaaye nikal, chal!
Let this chance not escape, let’s go!
Chal chal chal mere saathii…

Tuu yaaro.N ka yaar hai, kitnaa vafaadaar hai!
You are a friend of friends, how faithful you are!
JhuuTha hai saaDaa jahaa.N, sachcha teraa pyaar hai
The rest of the world may be a lie, but your love is honest
Tuu paglaa, na badalaa!
You crazy creature, do not change!
SaDii duniyaa gayii hai badal, chal!
Even if the whole world has changed, let’s go!
Chal chal chal mere saathii…

Glossary:

saathi: companion; haathi: elephant; kaTaaraa: junk, jalopy; khee.Nchnaa: to pull; dhakka maarna: to push; band hona: to be broken, to be closed; yaar: friend; phuul: flower; naazuk: delicate; baiThnaa: to sit; aahistaa: carefully; taqliif: trouble, problem; khaanaa: to eat, to consume; kamariiyaa: small waist; bal: sway; khidmat: service; kaam dena: to be successful; shaayad: perhaps; inaam: reward; hasii.N: beautiful lady; aa.Nkh: eye, paighaam: message; paas: near, close; aa jaanaa: to come here; sunnaa: to listen; raajaa: king; mauqaa: chance, opportunity; nikalnaa: to escape, to go out; vafaadaar: faithful; jhuuTaa: lie; sachchaa: truth; pyaar: love; paglaa: crazy person; badalnaa: to change; duniyaa: world

Shots of a herd of African elephants I encountered while on a safari in Namibia with my husband recently. Can you guess which song was stuck in my head the whole time?

Ramu and Raju’s friendship are everyone’s bestie goals. They have each other’s backs like nobody’s business. Haathi Mere Saathi (1971) is truly the Bambi (1942) of Bollywood–and every child will remember exactly how they felt the first time they experienced the trauma of the film’s ending. Wow, there is just so much dust flying around my house lately, my eyes really need to stop watering. Stop, get a grip on yourself, Mrs. 55. SERIOUSLY, TOO MUCH DUST, WHY ARE MY EYES SO SENSITIVE.

Even though your outfit is the color of pepto bismol, you da man, Rajesh Khanna.

This one-of-a-kind song was requested by fan Janaki. Awesome choice! We know we’ve been slower to post lately with the busy year, but requests like these are always inspiring. We love hearing from fans!

-Mrs. 55

Dilip Kumar plays a swashbuckling raja who knows how to carry a tune in Kohinoor (1960).

Today we present the lyrics and English translation to the semi-classical “Madhuban Mein Radhika” from Kohinoor (1960). Dilip Kumar and Meena Kumari star in this masala film set during a romanticized period of Indian history when Hindu royalty were constantly engaged in sword-fights with their rivals, playing sitar to the acclamation of their courtiers, and saving damsels in distress on horseback. Kohinoor is remembered today for the brilliant soundtrack and delightful script (read: you will not cringe and die during most of the comic scenes) as well a for the breezy performances by its hero and heroine–both of whom were better known for their serious, even tragic, roles. Meena Kumari giggles more in this film than in any of her other films combined. And Kohinoor‘s costumes could not be more both on point and stereotypically ridiculous than if Nicole Kidman were choosing them for a play set in ancient India for the Moulin Rouge.

Dilip Kumar as the young raja travels to the countryside and happens upon a musical assembly where a talented dancer, played by Kumkum, challenges anyone to perform a song to which she cannot dance. Naturally, our hero is ready with “Madhuban Mein Radhika”  to the delight of his courtiers while Kumkum gracefully dances kathak to his tune. Shakeel Badayuni’s straightforward Radha-Krishna poetry is the basis of a rollicking number that keeps everyone, especially Kumkum, on their toes. “Madhuban Mein Radhika” is a true gem among film songs, drawing heavily upon Hindustani classical traditions that are rare to find executed with such unabashed purism in Bollywood films. It comes as no surprise that the song has maestro Naushad written all over it. To fully appreciate all the ornaments of the piece, I think it’s high time we break for a little vocabulary lesson.

A Brief Hindustani Classical Music Vocabulary Lesson:

Tarana in Hindustani classical music were thought to be invented by the great poet Amir Khusro (1253-1325 CE). Legend has it that a music competition was held by the famous conqueror Alauddin Khilji in which Amir Khusro and Gopal Nayak, court musician to the King of Devagiri were the last men standing. Nayak performed raaga Kadambak in Sanskrit for six evenings straight while Khusro sat enthralled among the courtiers. On the seventh night, Khusro sang the same song, copying each note to perfection, but substituted Persian words and jargon for the lyrics as he did not understand Sanskrit. His amazing performance won him the competition and thus, the tarana was born. Persian couplets and notation for tabla are often intermingled into the tarana, however, the basic phonetics are Farsi-based (eg. yalali, odani, tadeem). The structure consists of a main melody that the performer repeats and elaborates on as well as a second, contrasting melody, that may include higher notes and is introduced once before returning to the main melody. The taranas featured in Lata Mangeshkar’s “Tare Rahiyo” from Pakeezah (1972) and the Pakeezah (1972) Title Music are some of the film’s highlights.

Sargam is the vocalization of the notes that define the raga in which the song is sung. Improvisation ascending and descending the scale allows the audience to understand the raagas range and boundaries, often occurring at the beginning or the end of the piece. The sargam typically incorporates improvisation upon themes to set the tone of the piece. A great example of a beautiful mid-song sargam is in Asha Bhonsle’s “Nigahen Milane Ko” from Dil Hi To Hai (1960).

Alaap is similar to sargam, but does not name the notes, using instead simply the aakaar (“aah” sound) to create music. It frequently opens a piece, but can be interjected in the middle, or at the end for dramatic effect–as well as intermingled among the sargam with artistic license. One of my favorite alaaps from films is Suman Kalyanpur’s heavenly interjection above Hemant Kumar midway through “Na Tum Humen Jano” from Baat Ek Raat Ki (1963). In “Madhuban Mein Radhika,” listen for Mohammed Rafi’s silky alaap to start off the song and entrance his audience.

Taan, is similar to an alaap, but is much more fast-paced and showcases the singer’s vocal abilities. The two taans in this song (picturized on comedic actor Mukri) were sung by Ustad Niyaz Ahmed Khan. Bollywood film songs Kal Nahii.N Paaye Jiya from Chhoti Si Mulaqat (1967)  and Tu Hai Mera Prem Devta from Kalpana (1960) feature multiple beautiful taans punctuating each stanza.

Jugalbandi is a playful competition between two performers in which one mimics the other, and then surpasses. A challenging test of both the ability to perfectly imitate and then improvise, a jugalbandi between two master musicians is absolutely thrilling to witness. This is commonly between two instrumental performers, but as in “Madhuban Mein Radikha,” is briefly showcased as between the singer and the tabla player (note: the lyrics actually reference the Carnatic mridangam, which is a different percussion instrument than the Hindustani tabla, however, a tabla is indeed is picturized in the film). Another fun example of jugalbandi in Bollywood is at the ending of the song Muqabala Humse Na Karo from Prince (1969).

Kumkum entrances her audience with a kathak performance based on classic Radha-Krishna imagery in Kohinoor (1960).

Are we all on the same page now? Because I’m fully expecting you to count the taal as you check out the music video here. Follow along with our English translation of the lyrics to “Madhuban Mein Radhika” from Kohinoor (1960) below! How many lovely ornaments of Hindustani classical music can you hear in the song?

Madhuban Mein Radhika Nache Lyrics and Translation:

ALAAP: Aaaah aaaah aaaah

madhuban mei.N radhikaa nache re
In the honey gardens, Radha danced
Girdhar kii muraliiya baje re
As the flute of Krishna played

pag mei.N ghuunghar baandhke
With dancing bells tied to her leg
ghuunghaT mukh par daal ke
With a veil placed upon her face
nainan mei.N kajraa lagaake re
With kajal applied to her eyes
madhuban mei.N radhikaa nache re
In the honey gardens, Radha danced

Dolat chham-chham kaminii
The beautiful lady swayed and sparkled
Chhamakat jaise daamini
Her sparkle was like lightening
Chhanchal, pyarii chhab laage re
Her face appeared mischievous and lovable
madhuban mei.N radhikaa nache re
In the honey gardens, Radha danced

mridang baje…
The drum was played…

Tirikitadhum Tirikitadhum Ta Ta
mridang baje
Tirikitadhum Tirikitadhum

Naachath Chum Chum
ThaThay ThaThay Thatha
Chum Chum ChanaNaNa
Chum Chum ChanaNaNa

Dhan Dhakdan Dhakdan Dha
Dha Dha Dha

madhuban mei.N radhikaa nache re…

TAAN: Aaaaaaaah

madhuban mei.N radhikaa…

TAAN: Aaaaaaaah

madhuban mei.N radhikaa nache re
madhuban mei.N radhikaa…

SARGAM :

Ni Sa Re Sa Ga Re Ma Ga Pa Ma
Dha Pa Ni Dha SA Ni RE SA
RE SA Ni Dha Pa Ma Pa
Dha Ni SA RE SA Ni Dha Pa Ma Pa
Ga Ma Pa Ma Ga Ma Re Sa
madhuban mei.N radhikaa nache re…

SA SA SA Ni Dha Pa
Ma Pa Dha Pa Ga Ma Re Sa Ni Re Sa
Sa Sa Ga Ma Dha Dha Ni Dha SA
madhuban mei.N radhikaa nache re
madhuban mei.N radhikaa…

TARAANAA:

Ode NaDir DiTa NiTa DhaRe Dhim, Dhim Ta Na Na
Nadir DiTa NiTa DhaRe Dhim, Dhim Ta Na Na
Nadir DiTa NiTa DhaRe Dhim, Dhim Ta Na Na

JUGALBANDI:

NaDir DiTa NiTa DhaRe

(tabla response)

ODe Tana Dhir Dhir Tana
Dhir Dhir Dhir Dhir
Thum Dhir Dhir Dhir

(tabla response)

Dha Tirikita Tak , Thum Tirikita Tak
Tirikita Titikita Ta DhaNi

NaDir DiTa NiTa
ODe NaDir DiTa niTa
ODe Nadir Dita NiTa
DhaRe Dhim Dhim Ta Na Na ….

Glossary:

madhuban: sweet garden, honey garden; Radhikaa: Radha, gopi lover of Krishna; nachnaa: to dance; girdhar: Lord Krishna; muralii: flute; baajnaa: to play; pag: leg; ghuungar: dancing bells; baandhnaa: to bind, to tie; ghuungaT: veil; mukh: face: Daalnaa: to place, to put; nainan: eyes; kajraa: eyeliner; Dolat: sway; chham-chham: sparkling; kaamini: beautiful lady; daamini: lightening; chhanchal: mischievous; pyaarii: loveable; chhab: face; mridangam: traditional Carnatic percussion instrument

Dilip Kumar jams his sitar with rockstar attitude in Kohinoor (1960).

Dilip Kumar’s performance in Kohinoor (1960) garnered the Filmfare award for Best Actor that year. According to Naushad, Dilip Kumar the perfectionist, supposedly learned how to play the sitar just for this song. While that may seem extreme, anyone who has seen Raj Kapoor fail miserably to pretend play the piano (as much as we love the man) will appreciate how big a difference this makes in any self-respecting musical number.

Wondering what’s up with the snake and the mongoose at the end of the song? Let it suffice to say that every self-respecting raja-rani film needs at least one assassination-by-cobra attempt…amiright?

– Mrs. 55