How To Dance Like Bollywood’s Helen

Helen Piya Tu Ab To Aaja

Helen, Queen of the Nautch Girls, makes Bollywood history with her wild dance moves in “Piya Tu Ab To Aaja” from Caravan (1971).

Ever wanted to learn to dance like a Bollywood actress? Helen’s moves are infamous. When Helen dances, it’s as if the screen lights on fire, as if someone exploded a splattering bottle of crazy juice all over the set. The most scandalous of vamps in classic Bollywood cinema, Helen was such a dance icon that Merchant Ivory Productions even made a documentary in 1973 on her monumental impact on Bollywood entitled, “Helen, Queen of the Nautch Girls.”

A mixture of sexy, hilarious, beautiful, and absolutely deranged, Helen’s moves are not intended for the faint-hearted. Below we discuss how to master some of her spiciest tricks from “Piya Tu Ab To Aaja” from Caravan (1971). Perhaps the greatest tip we can give you is simply to perform with blind, unabashed enthusiasm. Whatever Helen was, her moves were absolutely electric with raw passion and joie de vivre! So follow along and learn how to dance like Bollywood legend Helen!

Dance Move: The Money Grab

Let those wild 60s Bombay nightclub goers know exactly what you’re here for.  Make stocking up the bank an integral part of the item number and don’t be subtle about it!

Bollywood Helen8

Appeal to audience members on the left, both hands open and ready.

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Rake it in with a violent, Helen-style hip thrust.

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The other side needs some love too. Twist it around and keep those palms up and open!

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SCORE! Reel it in to home position, and don’t forget that mischievously delightful smile.

Dance Move: The Jekyl-Hyde

Not sure which direction you want to groove? Do both at the same time! This move involves pushing the power forward then spastically pulling yourself in for a personal moment. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Bollywood Helen4

Stay away! Don’t come near!

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Oh, wait, do come closer! Jerk the opposing arm in violently with come-hither modesty. Your audience has gotta stay on its toes to keep up with your routine.

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Just kidding! Go away! Snap back to your original aggressive stance to keep that audience guessing!

Dance Move: Heavy Breathing

Nothing says sexy quite like hypoxemia. This is Helen’s most deadly dance move. Demonstrate your desperate love with a little heavy breathing, and let the close-ups do the rest.

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Start by facing the camera directly with an open mouth, heave in and gasp like a drowning child.

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Now lurch forward, and keep that blood-oxygen low. Come closer and closer with a crazed look on your face, making sure everyone in the audience is really uncomfortable.

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It’s too overwhelming! Drop down with a final violent heave of your chest to let them all know just how much you’re willing to compromise your health for love.

Dance Move: The Switch-a-roo

Just when everyone’s slowly growing accustomed to the crack-cocaine of your dance routine, time to shift things around. Dress gets caught on a chair? No problem. You’ve got a glittery gold slip underneath. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the switch-a-roo is the risky dance move of a public wardrobe change.

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Oh yes, the first step of this move is undoubtedly alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

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Dress is caught on a chair! Quick, act like this wasn’t planned, pretend to tug with all your might.

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No time to waste, rip that useless outer covering out of the way! The show must go on!

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What are the ODDS you’d have on a glittery gold slip underneath that crazy red dress? All bets are off now! Go big or go home!

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Show off your slip’s versatility with a partner! Arch your back, keep smiling, and congratulate yourself on a successful switch-a-roo.

And there have you 4 of Helen’s best dance moves in 1 easy-to-follow guide. Be a star at your next dance party, why wait for a sold-out cabaret? These moves are fabulous at family weddings, bar mitzvahs, high school graduations, and baby birthdays. I dare you to try them out at your next corporate Christmas party. For more in this series, check out our earlier post on how to wink like Rajesh Khanna!

-Mrs. 55

Old Bollywood Movie Posters: A Gallery of Fading Art

Sholay 1975 Poster

The classic 1975 Sholay film poster epitomizes the wonders of a fading Indian art form.

We now present our coveted collection of old Bollywood movie posters from the 50s, 60s, and 70s! It took us years to hunt some of these posters down. The vintage art of the hand-painted film poster is dying–gone are the days when a single artist would paint by hand the latest Rajesh Khanna hit across a busy Bombay street wall. Now most film poster art is done entirely digitally using stills from the film itself or publicity photos enhanced by the computers. But the charm of the old Bollywood movie poster still prevails.

Colourful, slightly imperfect, and bursting with melodrama, these posters remain coveted treasures of collectors around the world (myself included!). Some artists became well-known for their gift, others remained anonymous, while some great directors like Satyajit Ray occasionally painted his own. Like many fanatics, I’ve gone on a hunt through Bombay’s Chor Bazaar for vintage film posters where prices for authentic classics can range from rs. 8,000 to rs. 25,000! As a film major, I’ve often dreamed of one day owning a house with a giant private movie hall in the basement and I would line the walls with old Bollywood movie posters (I’d make it classy, not tacky, ok??).  It’s hard to pick a favorite, but I think I’ll have to go with the Pakeezah (1971) poster–it was such an interesting choice to not highlight the mujra aspect, while capturing the essence of that movie so well in their embrace. Which one is YOUR favorite? Leave a comment and let us know!

Everyone see that fancy poster from Jigri Dost (1969)? I have a sad story to share. Two years ago as I was browsing the Urban Outfitters in Harvard Square, I was suddenly struck by this same poster made into canvas art hanging on the wall! The artist had embellished it with gold and other designs to make it an entirely new piece of art. I got so excited, I immediately went to purchase it–and then saw it’s crazy expensive price tag. I needed to eat that month, so I left the store to mull it over. When I came back two weeks later after realizing I couldn’t live without it, the artwork was gone. None of the salespeople knew what I was talking about or where to find it. I am still in search of it today. If anyone has any leads, send us a line!

-Mrs. 55

Bollywood’s Beloved Sopranos: Lata and Asha’s Highest Notes

I feel like we’ve all been in this situation at some point: one of your favorite aunties steps up to the microphone at the annual Diwali function, and you have a sinking fear in your heart that she’s going to embarass herself by butchering another Lata classsic on stage. As she struggles through the sky-high notes of the antara, you cringe and ask yourself why you’re here again, subjecting yourself to this torture…

Well, it turns out it’s not entirely her fault. The reality of the situation is that Bollywood songs from the Golden Era tend to be pitched at extremely high scales for the average female singer. Unless a woman is a veritable soprano like Lata Mangeshkar or Asha Bhonsle, it is going to be quite a challenge for them to sing many of the classic songs from this period in their original keys. The high-pitched soprano female voice has become a hallmark of Hindi film music, and I’d like to explore this phenomenon in greater detail with this post.

Two sisters who changed playback singing forever: Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhonsle.

Why are Bollywood songs for females from the Golden Era pitched at astronomically high scales? I don’t know for sure, but I definitely have a few ideas that could explain this trend. First, the high-pitched female voice is consistent with the image of the ideal Indian woman that was prevalent during the 1950s and 60s. The soprano register suggests innocence and purity, which enhanced the traditionally feminine perceptions of heroines advanced by film directors of the time. Lata Mangeshkar  is the ultimate example of this phenomenon; her voice, with its ethereal purity, has been considered the traditional female voice of India for decades. However, this explanation is less pertinent to Lata’s younger sister Asha Bhonsle. The voice of Asha, who was widely known for her experimentation with non-traditional genres such as the cabaret, is not a national emblem of purity in the same way as her elder sister’s. For this reason, an alternative explanation is needed to describe the popularity of the soprano female voice in Bollywood, and I would venture to say that this alternative explanation is rooted in musical origins. Before the arrival of the Mangeshkars onto the filmi musical scene, female singing in Hindi films was dominated by artists with heavy, nasal voices, such as Suraiyya and Shamshad Begum. Once music directors had the opportunity to work with the Mangeshkars, things changed forever: the nasalized heavy female voices were out and the delicate soprano voices were here to stay. After Lata and Asha became established as playback singers, I would argue that  music directors of the time pushed the boundaries of their compositions in terms of range to test and showcase the virtuosity of these two exceptional talents.

Before we take a listen to some of Lata and Asha’s highest highs throughout Bollywood’s musical history, explaining a little bit of musical nitty-gritty is necessary to fully appreciate the gist of what’s going on here. From my experiences with transcribing and performing many songs from this era, I would estimate that the vast majority (perhaps 90%?) of songs composed for Lata and Asha max out at F5 or F#5 (two F/F#’s above middle C on the piano) as their highest note. Therefore, in the brief list  of high notes that I’ve compiled below, I’ve only chosen to include those rare songs that surpass the typical upper limit of  F#5. Songs for both singers are listed in order of ascending pitch of the composition’s highest note.

Keyboard labeled with note names and frequencies. C4 is taken as middle C. The high notes listed here range from G5 to C6.

Lata Mangeshkar: Selected High Notes

 jhuumta mausam mast mahiinaa (Ujala, 1959):  In this Lata-Manna duet composed by Shankar-Jakishan, Lata nails a G5 (taar komal ga in the key of E) when she repeats the “yalla yalla” line in the taar saptak (high octave) at the end.

ajii ruuThkar ab kahaa.n jaayiega?  (Aarzoo, 1965): Shankar-Jaikishan is once again the culprit here: listen as Lata reaches an Ab5 (taar shuddh ma in the key of Eb) in the antara of this gem picturized on Sadhana from Aarzoo. Regarding the high pitch of this song, Lata has said:

“I remember “ajii ruuThkar ab kahaa.n jaayiegaa” in Aarzoo (1965). What a high pitch that was! My ears reddened when I sang it. But I stubbornly sang at that impossible scale, refusing to admit defeat to any range. I would get very angry and sing at any range without complaining. Composers would take full advantage of my silence and keep raising the scale. In fact, I used to have arguments with Jaikishan. I would ask him, “kyaa baat hai, aap merii pariksha le rahe hai.n? mai.ne aap kaa kyaa bigaDaa hai jo aap meraa kaan laal kar rahe hai.n? (What’s the matter? Why are you testing me? What have I done that you should trouble me so much to redden my ears?)’

jiyaa o jiyaa kuch bol do (Jab Pyar Kisi Se Hota Hai, 1961): The tandem effect described below with “ahsaan teraa hogaa mujh par” is also observed here. Lata gives it her all as she reaches a Ab5 (taar komal ni in the key of Bb) in the antara of the female tandem version of the fun Rafi classic from Jab Pyar Kisi Se Hota Hai.

rasik balmaa (Chori Chori, 1957):  This Raga Shuddh Kalyan-based Shankar-Jakishan composition is one of my all-time favorites! Lata hits a G#5 (taar shuddh ga in the key of E) when she sings the antara.

Nargis in a melancholic mood as she sings “rasik balma” from Chori Chori (1957)

ahsaan teraa hogaa mujh par (Junglee, 1961):  The Rafi version of this number is an all-time classic. Although the Lata version is less popular, it is still beautiful in its own right and brings up an interesting point about scales in tandem songs from this era. In almost all cases that I can think of, music directors made the female singer of a tandem song sing her versions in the same key as the male verion. Because men tend to be more comfortable in the higher register of their voices than women, this practice often put the female playback singer at a disadvantage when it came to hitting the highest notes of the composition. But who else would be up for the challenge of adjusting to the “male scale,”  if not Lata Mangeshkar? She hits a G#5 (taar shuddh ga in the key of Ein the antara of this evergreen Shankar-Jakishan composition based in raga Yaman. Regarding the difficulties of singing tandem songs, Lata has remarked:

Actually, “ahsaan teraa hogaa mujh par” was only meant to be sung by Rafi. But the film’s hero, Shammi Kapoor, suddenly decided that the heroine should sing it as well. It was picturised with Rafi’s voice on Saira Banu and later dubbed by me. So I had to sing it in the same sur as Rafi. The same was done with “jiyaa o jiyaa kuch bol do.

tere baadalo.n kii khair (Champakali, 1957): This Bhairavi-based composition composed by Hemant Kumar and picturized on Suchitra Sen is not as well-known as the rest of the songs on this list, but it’s worth mentioning for the A5 (taar ma in the key of E) that Lata hits  at its conclusion.

ahaa rimjhim ke yeh pyaare pyaare geet  (Usne Kaha Tha, 1960):  Salil Chowdhury was known for his incorporation of ideas of Western classical music into his Indian compositions. As an example, he has Lata sing an operatic-style counterpoint passage here in which she reaches an Bb5 (atitaar sa in the key of Bb) against Talat’s rendering of the mukhda at the end of this composition. Subtle, but exquisite!

aa ab laut chale.n (Jis Des Mein Ganga Behti Hai, 1960): Shankar-Jaikishan score another point here with this patriotic composition from Jis Des Mein Ganga Behti Hai. Mukesh and Lata both sing this song, but it is not structured as a prototypical romantic duet. Mukesh takes the main lines while Lata provides a few supporting lines and interesting background vocals, including the virtuosic glide in which she nails an Bb5 (taar pa in the key of Eb) with finesse.

aaja bha.nvar/jhananana jhan baaje paayalia (Rani Roopmati, 1957): Both of these drut bandishes based in Raga Brindavani Sarang and composed by S.N. Tripathi from Rani Roopmati are truly virtuosic by Bollywood standards. Lata sounds so impressive when she nails the Bb5 (taar pa in the key of Bb) at the end of both “aaja bha.nvar” and “jhananana jhan.” In addition to showing off her range, Lata also showcases her classical training and vocal dexterity as she navigates through a host of intricate taans in both songs. I have to say Lata’s virtuosity leaves Rafi in the dust in the duet here (sorry, Mrs. 55!).

Nimmi sings “aaja bhan.var” in Rani Roopmati (1957)


ham ramchandra kii chandrakala me.n bhii
 
(Sampoorna Ramayana,
1961): The Mangeshkar sisters team up here to sing a duet from Sampoorna Ramayana composed by Vasant Desai. It’s somewhat interesting to note that the song here is actually picturized on two pre-pubescent boys, who are receiving playback from female singers. At the end of the song, there is a dramatic ascent in the melody until both sisters climax at a powerful  Bb5 (taar pa in the key of Eb).

ai dil kahaa.n terii manzil
 (Maya, 1961): Salil Chowdhury makes another contribution to our list with this composition rendered by Dwijen Mukherjee (a noted Bengali singer with a voice similar to Hemant Kumar’s) and Lata. Like “aa ab laut chale.n,” this duet is not structured traditionally; rather, Dwijen sings the main lines and Lata provides background support. Lata sounds heavenly as she hits a Bb5 (taar shuddh dha in the key of Db) in one of Salil’s signature opera-inspired vocal passages.

woh ek nigaah kyaa milii 
(Half-Ticket, 1962): To the best of my knowledge, Salil Chowdhury wins the contest for having recorded Lata’s voice at its highest pitch in the history of Bollywood cinema with this composition.  In this duet with Kishore Kumar picturized on Helen, Lata manages to hit  the elusive soprano C6 (taar shuddh dha in the key of Eb) in the second staccato sequence of the interlude played between stanzas. Her voice is so high here that it blends in naturally with the instrumental piccolo parts.  Nailing a staccato passage in the soprano register like this is incredibly impressive for a vocalist trained in the Indian tradition (in which the emphasis is not placed on vocalizing at the extremes of one’s range)–brava, Lata, brava!

Asha Bhonsle: Selected High Notes

sakhii rii sun bole papiihaa us paar (Miss Mary, 1957): You get the opportunity to hear some some sibling rivalry in this Hemant Kumar composition loosely based on Raga Tilang from Miss Mary! Lata (on Meena Kumari) and Asha (on some rando actress I can’t recognize) duke it out at the end with some intricate taans, but Asha actually takes the more complex passages and touches an Ab5 (taar shuddh ma in the key of Eb)in her last taan here. For those keeping score, Lata also hits the same note in her taan right before.

Meena Kumari in a rare non-tragic role in Miss Mary (1957)

dil na kahii.n lagaanaa (Ghunghat, 1960): I hadn’t heard this Ravi composition picturized on Helen before doing research for this post, but it’s quite special. The song is divided into several differents segments with lyrics in four different languages: Hindi, Tamil, Bengali (a cover of Geeta Dutt’s classic “tumi je amar“), and Punjabi. During in an alaap in the final Punjabi segment, Asha manages to hit an A5 (taar shuudh re in the key of G).

tarun aahe ratra ajunii (Non-Film):  This composition by Hridaynath Mangeshkar is a Marathi bhavgeet, so I guess it technically doesn’t belong on the list. Even though I don’t understand the Marathi lyrics, this is one of my favorite Asha songs because the tune and rendition are simply sublime. Here, the line “bagh tula pusatos aahe” begins on Bb3 and climbs up to A5 (taar shuddh ni in the key of Bb) with the ornament Asha sings on the words “gaar vaaraa.” In the span of one musical line, Asha covers nearly two octaves of vocal range–wow!

suunii suunii saa.ns kii sitaar par (Lal Patthar, 1971): This Shankar-Jakishan composition picturized on Rakhee from Lal Patthar is a beautiful example of the use of Raga Jayjayvanti in filmi music. In a passage towards the end of the song (beginning at 3:13), Asha touches a Bb5 (taar komal ga in the key of G). She also finishes the song off with some powerful taans. For comparison, see Shankar-Jakishan’s Jayjayvanti beauty from Seema sung by Lata (note the exquisite taankari at the end!): manmohana baDe jhuuThe

daiyaa mai.n kahaa.n aa pha.nsii (Caravan, 1971): This song from Caravan is probably remembered more for Asha Parekh’s crazy dance moves than its musical underpinnings, but this song is composed in a manner that is rather unique for Bollywood music. Most songs in Bollywood are sung at a fixed tonic (sa), but R.D. Burman experiments with a musical technique all too familiar to those who listen to 90s Western pop: the key change. He goes wild here by changing the tonic of the song by half-steps multiple times, and Asha hits a Bb5 during a transition at the very end.

Asha Parekh hides herself on stage during the performance of “daiyaa mai.n kahaa.na aa pha.nsii” in Caravan (1971)

aa dekhe.n zaraa (Rocky, 1981): Despite my aversion to Bollywood music from the 80s, I still decided to include this song on the list for the Bb5 (taar pa in the key of Eb) that Asha manages to yell out at around 2:20.

nadii naa re na jaao shyaam (Mujhe Jeene Do, 1963): In the alaap of this Jaidev composition picturized on Waheeda Rahman, Asha nails a G#5 and briefly touches a B5 (taar pa in the key of E) before descending to pitches that are more comfortable for the average mortal.

tu mi piaci cara (Bewaqoof, 1960):  This cute S.D. Burman composition sung by Asha and Kishore features an opening line in Italian. Maybe it was the Italian lyrics that inspired S.D. Burman to have Asha sing some background operatic passages in addition to her normal lines. During one of these passages before the second-last antara, Asha hits a B5 (taar ma in the key of F#).

jo mai.n hotaa ek TuuTaa taaraa (Chhupa Rustam, 1973): This composition by S.D. Burman rendered by Asha and Kishore features some more opera-like passages at its conclusion. Asha is impressively comfortable as she nails a B5 (ati-taar sa in the key of B)  several times in a row as counterpoint against Kishore’s rendering of the mukhda!

o merii jaa.n maine kahaa (The Train, 1970): You wouldn’t expect this fun item number composed by R.D. Burman and picturized on Helen from The Train to be particularly virtuosic in terms of vocals, but Asha actually hits the a B5 (ati-taar sa in the key of B) in the song’s opening line with her leap on the word “kahaa.” For those of you listening very carefully, it’s important to keep in mind that the film version appears to be transposed a half-step higher than the album version of this song.

If you’ve managed to pay attention so far and take a listen to some of these songs, you may have noticed some interesting trends when comparing the high notes rendered by our two beloved Bollywood divas. After taking a look at the years I’ve listed next to each song, you’ll notice that all of Lata’s highest notes on this list span a range of nine years from 1956 to 1965, while Asha’s highest notes range over 24 years (!) from 1957 to 1981. The broad range of years in which Asha hit her high notes might provide evidence to those who support the notion that Asha’s voice aged better than Lata’s over the decades. But there is one caveat: the manner in which these two divas produce their high notes is distinct and may play a role in mediating this trend. If you listen carefully, you can hear that Lata always employs her “chest voice” to belt out the notes of a composition, even at the highest registers. On the other hand, Asha often employs her “head voice,” the more commonly used technique by female singers to access high notes. Head voice has a softer, gentler sound because it resonates around the nasal cavity instead of the chest during vocal production. This technique of singing is traditionally forbidden in the Indian classical tradition, so purists might consider some of Asha’s highest highs as “cheating”–head voice is sometimes even referred to as naqlii avaaz (fake voice). I’m not so much of a purist that I would discredit Asha for using her head voice in these compositions, but I will venture to say that, if asked to do so, she would not be able to hit the notes of the high soprano register in her later years using her chest voice as gracefully as Lata did during her peak.

Another interesting trend to note is how different music directors composed differently to suit the individual styles of  Lata or Asha. Although all the music directors on this list have worked extensively with both sisters, the music directors who asked Lata to sing at her highest range are not the same as the music directors who asked the same of Asha. Shankar-Jaikishan and Salil Chowdhury, by far, contribute to Lata’s highest record pitches whereas R.D. Burman and S.D. Burman seem to have saved their highest notes for Asha. Just some food for thought.

R.D. Burman teaches Asha Bhonle during a rehearsal session.

Please let us know if you find any more examples of Lata and Asha’s highest highs that are not on this list! I have attempted to find the best examples, but given the vast repertoire of Bollywood film music, I may have naturally missed out on some that are worth mentioning. Also, if you enjoyed this post, let us know in the comments and I’ll try to do some similar-themed posts in the future–perhaps next, we can take a listen to Lata and Asha’s lowest recorded notes or a an analysis of the Bollywood tenor’s highest highs? The possibilities are endless!

-Mr. 55

Aap Ki Nazaron Ne Samjha Lyrics and Translation: Let’s Learn Urdu-Hindi

A musical match for the ages: Lata Mangeshkar and Madan Mohan

The collaboration between Lata Mangeshkar and Madan Mohan has produced some of the most cherished songs in the musical history of Hindi cinema. Think of gems such as  “lag jaa gale,” “nainaa barse rimjhim rimjhim,” or “tu jahaa.n jahaa.n chalegaa,” to name a few. Today, I’m going to share the lyrics and translation for a ghazal from Anpadh (1962) that is widely considered to be one of this duo’s finest: “aap kii nazaro.n ne samjhaa.” Penned by Raja Mehndi Ali Khan, the lyrics of this song are an equal match for the beauty of the musical composition and rendering. The beauty of the lyrics, however, is perhaps best appreciated once you can get over the whole slave-master dynamic that is going on as Mala Sinha sings to Dharmendra in the film. Although I admit that it is bizarre to refer to your lover as “banda-parvar” (master, lord), it is important to remember that these lyrics were written for the society of 1960s India: gender norms from that era differ dramtically from those established in modern times. At this time, the ideal Indian woman was expected to be submissive to her husband, and this sentiment is reflected in many songs like this one from the period.

An interesting piece of trivia: after the ghazals from Anpadh were released, it is said that composer Naushad supposedly told Madan Mohan that he would trade all of his own compositions for this one song! Although Madan Mohan rarely got his due from audiences back then, it’s nice to hear that his fellow music directors recognized his talent.

-Mr. 55

P.S. Please, for my sake, go to YouTube and give a thumbs-down to Bally Sagoo’s atrocious remix of this song. I don’t understand how these people sleep at night after they ruin the classics (seriously, how did they just change the taal here from 7-beat rupak to 8-beat kaharvaa?)

Mala Sinha expresses her devotion to the handsome Dharmendra in Anpadh (1962)

Aap Ki Nazaron Ne Samjha Lyrics and Translation

aap kii nazaro.n ne samjhaa pyaar ke qaabil mujhe
Your glances deemed me worthy of love.
dil kii ai dhaDkan Thahar jaa, mil gayii manzil mujhe
Oh stop, my heartbeats, for I have found my destination.

jii hame.n manzuur hai, aap kaa yeh faislaa
Yes, this decision of yours is acceptable to me.
kah rahii hai har nazar, bandaa parvar shukriyaa
My every glance is saying, “Thank you, oh lord!”
ha.nske apnii zindagii me.n, kar liyaa shaamil mujhe
As you brought me into your life with a smile. 

aap kii manzil huu.n mai.n, aur merii manzil aap hai.n
I am your destination, and you are mine.

kyo.n mai.n tuufaa.n se Daruu.n? meraa saahil aap hai.n
Why shall I fear the storm? You are my shore.
koii tuufaa.no.n se kah de, mil gayaa saahil mujhe
Someone tell the storms that I have found my shore.

paD gayii.n dil par mere aap ki parchhaaiiyaa.n
Your shadows have cast upon my heart.
har taraf bajne lagii.n saikDo.n shahnaaiiyaa.n
In every direction, hundreds of shahnaiis are playing in celebration
do jahaa.n kii aaj khushiyaa.n, ho gayii.n haasil mujhe
Today, I have enjoyed the happiness of both worlds.

aap kii nazaro.n ne samjhaa pyaar ke qaabil mujhe
Your glances deemed me worthy of love.

Glossary

nazar: glance; qaabil: worthy; manzil: destination; manzuur: acceptable; faislaa: decision; bandaa parvar: master, lord; haasil: achieved, obtained; saahil: shore; parchhaaiiyaa.n: shadows; saikDo.n: hundreds; shahnaaiiyaa.n: traditional Indian instrument resembling a clarinet (associated with weddings); shaamil: present.

Buried Treasure: Bollywood Songs with Hidden Stanzas

Bollywood record LP

My sweet Bollywood LP record collection.

You know how it is when you grow up listening to a song. Your mom played it on cassettes in the car, your Dad sang it while he worked, and eventually that gem from the 60s sneaks into your personal playlists when you buy an ipod. It’s all fine and dandy until years later, you’re browsing along youtube and BAM! A miracle occurs.

Turns out that song you knew and loved is only AN ABBREVIATED VERSION! The song as it’s played in the film is a whole stanza, a whole musical interlude and a half longer than you ever realized! There are few things on Earth that have the same feeling of win. It give you a rare, blissful tingle all over that can otherwise only be found by watching the wink sequence of a Rajesh Khanna film.

But why, you ask? It’s simple. Unlike now when the film soundtrack hits the iTunes store and you can download your songs one at a time, back in the good old days, marketing had to squeeze an entire soundtrack onto a single LP record (typically about 15-25 minutes per side). And if you planned on selling two hit film soundtracks on the same LP to increase sales, you could forget about musical fidelity. Something had to give.

Rajesh Khanna Farida Jalal Aradhana 3

Rajesh Khanna and Farida Jalal get sassy in the uncut version of “Baaghon Mei.N Bahaar Hai” from Aradhana (1969)

The result? Dozens of priceless compositions were slashed completely, and others had pieces ripped out from their insides to fit the needs of a hungry consumer market. Maybe I’m being melodramatic but I feel really strongly about this. Several hidden classical compositions from even the musical legend Pakeezah got shafted completely. Later as technology improved, recordings were taken from the LP versions and sold as cassettes, CDs, and mP3s. The originals can now often be found only in the films themselves or in the archives.

This is the face that got cut from “Baagho.N Mei.N Bahaar Hai.” Rajesh Khanna stars as an Indian Air Force pilot in Aradhana (1969). Are you sure it wasn’t the Navy though? Because I think I see a DREAM BOAT.

Here is a growing list of songs that over the years I’ve found are secretly much longer than I once thought:

  1. Kahin Dur Jab Din Dhal Jaaye (a whole beautiful poetic stanza is cut from the end)
  2. Piya Tose Naina (the ENTIRE magical 1965 Lata Mangeshkar opening is not in the soundtrack version–BIG travesty)
  3. In Bahaaro.N Mei.N Akelii (a whole stanza)
  4. Baaghon Mei.N Bahaar Hai (Rafi’s great comeback stanza)
  5. Aaj Kal Mei.N Dhal Gayaa (in the film, the male and female version are combined in a fabulous way)
  6. Jhumka Gira Re (a whole extra stanza and some sweet prelude music)
  7. Honton Pe Aisi (one minute of introductory dance music that is a huge game-changer)
  8. Aye Gulbadan (lost a final stanza)
  9. Thare Rahiyo (there’s a great musical a moment in the middle that gets totally cut)
  10. Dekhi Zamaane Ki Yaari (random parts are missing–granted the full thing is like 10 minutes, but it’s so worth it)
  11. Dil Ka Bhanwar Kare Pukar (an entire stanza!)
  12. Dum Maro Dum (maybe this doesn’t get cut per se, but there’s a whole reprise version that gets a huge shaft in the soundtrack!)
  13. Ghar Aayaa Mera Pardesi (all the epic dream sequence music at the end)
  14. Kahin Deep Jale Kahin Dil (missing a bunch of creepy-cool interlude music. Also anyone notice the violins play an octave lower in the film? Weird.)
  15. Khwab Ho Tum Ya (the final stanza)
  16. Koi Nazaraaane Lekar (another whole stanza)
  17. Sau Saal Pehle (a great stanza at the end!)
  18. Tujhe Jeevan Ki Dor Se (missing a culmination stanza)
  19. Tu Jahaa.N Jahaa.N Chalega (how could you cut out Lata in her prime?!)
  20. Tera Phoolo.N Jaise Rang (at least a minute worth of dance music from the end that really sets the mood!)
  21. Pal Bhar Ke Liye Koi (the sassy final stanza that puts everything into perspective!)
  22. Jhoom Jhoom Dhalti Raat (the clutch stanza that has the meaning of “Kohra” explained therefore making it the title song–but you’d never have known!)

Mess with my songs? You just watch yourself.

So you can see, it’s a mix of all-time classics and the more obscure gems. No one is safe. I beg of you to add any more you know of that are missing. Perhaps this compilation can help a fellow sufferer in need see the light!

-Mrs. 55