Rajendra Kumar and Saroja Devi in "Teri Pyari Pyari Surat" from Sasural

Teri Pyari Pyari Surat Ko Lyrics & Translation: Let’s Learn Urdu-Hindi

Teri Pyari Pyari Surat Sasural film
Rajendra Kumar scores big with the Mohammed Rafi’s chartbuster “Teri Pyari Pyari Surat Ko” from Bollywood film Sasural (1961).

Today we showcase the lyrics and English translation of “Teri Pyari Pyari Surat Ko,” one of Mohammed Rafi’s most romantic hits in honor of Valentine’s Day. Oozing with a dated flirtatious paternalism, Hasrat Jaipuri’s lyrics remind us of the incomparable beauty of the Urdu language. Who else but the great Mohammed Rafi (with that dreamy satin waterfall of a voice) could utter phrases like “chashme badduur” or “zarro.N ki nazar na lage” and induce seizures on the spot? He was awarded the Filmfare Award for Best Playback singer for “Teri Pyari Pyari Surat Ko” in 1961, having remarkably also won the year prior for “Chaudhvin Ka Chand!” Until 1967, male and female singers competed for the same singing award, so keep in mind that he crushed the Mangeshkar sisters twice in a row.

Now you are doubtless wondering, what the heck does “chashme badduur” mean? In Urdu-Hindi vernacular, the word “chashme” is often used for “eyeglasses,” so it seems awkward to start discussing your myopia just as you’re about to praise your crush’s beauty. Derived from Farsi, the phrase “chashme badduur” means literally “keep the evil eye far away.” We more commonly use the term “nazar” in Urdu-Hindi to mean “evil eye,” an omen of someone wishing ill upon you often from jealousy (of your beauty, wealth, achievements, etc). This is complicated by the fact that the term “nazar” in the right context bears no such connotations and could just mean “glance,” frequently employed in Bollywood love songs with poetic abandon. Context clues are everything.

So move past any disbelief in the cultural trope of the “evil eye” (just try winning an argument with your grandparents on this one), and you can appreciate what a sweet compliment it is to say, “chashme badduur.” This simple, respectful phrase conveys a desire to protect as well as admire. I recognize that this line of reasoning can quickly become a slippery slope, but hey, a 1960s romance is what it is. And I bet you’re already feeling lightheaded.

Still not sure what song to sing to your boo on Valentine’s Day? I’ll let the “Teri Pyari Pyari Surat Ko” lyrics do the rest of the talking and I’m confident your confusion will dissipate. Don’t let the mediocre looks of Rajendra Kumar wear you down (he always manages to snag the best Rafi songs–“Yeh Mera Prem Patra“or “Husnwale Tera Jawab Nahin” to name but a few). While everyone loves to hate on Saroja Devi, I think she does everyone a favor by distracting from the bigger on-screen eyesore.

Saroja Devi in Sasural,
As the film’s heroine, Saroja Devi uncomfortably dons the pigtails and bows of a middle-schooler in Sasural (1960). Fully grown women dressing as little girls is so classic of that era. It really deserves a separate conversation.

Teri Pyari Pyari Surat Ko Lyrics & Translation:

Terii pyaarii pyaarii suurat ko, kisii kii nazar na lage
Let no one cast an evil eye upon your lovely face
Chashm-e-badduur
Keep the evil eye far away
MukhaDe ko chhupaa lo aa.Nchal mei.N, kahii.N merii nazar na lage
Hide your face in the drape of your sari, lest I cast an evil eye upon you
Chashme baddur
Keep the evil eye far away

Yuu.N na akele phiraa karo, sab kii nazar se Daraa karo
Do not wander alone like this, be wary of everyone’s gaze
Phuul se zyaadaa naazuk ho tum, chaal sambhal kar chalaa karo
You are more delicate than a flower, be careful of how you walk
Zulfo.N ko giraa lo gaalo.N par, mausam kii nazar na lage
Let your hair fall upon your cheeks, lest the atmosphere cast an evil eye upon you
Chashme baddur
Keep the evil eye far away

Ek jhalak jo paata hai, raahii wahii ruk jaata hai
Upon gaining one look at you, a traveler halts right there in his tracks
Dekh ke teraa ruup salonaa, chaa.Nd bhii sar ko jhukaataa hai
Upon seeing your stunning beauty, even the moon bows its head
Dekhaa na karo tum aaiinaa, kahii.N khud kii nazar na lage
Do not keep looking into the mirror, lest you cast an evil eye upon yourself
Chashme baddur
Keep the evil eye far away

Dil mei.N chhupaa voh tiir ho tum, chaahat kii tasviir ho tum
You are the arrow hidden in my heart, you are the image of my desire
Kaun na hogaa tum se diiwaanaa? pyaar bharii tasviir ho tum
Who would not go mad for you? You are a picture filled with love
Nikalaa na karo tum raaho.N par zarro.N kii nazar na lage
Do not keep coming out upon this path, lest even a particle cast an evil eye upon you
Chashme baddur
Keep the evil eye far away

Terii pyaari pyaari suurat ko, kisii kii nazar na lage
Let no one cast an evil eye upon your lovely face
Chashme badduur
Keep the evil eye far away

 Glossary:

pyaarii: beloved, lovely; suurat: face; nazar: evil eye; chashm-e-badduur: keep the evil eye afar; mukhaDaa: face; chhupaa lenaa: to hide; aa.Nchal: the fancy end of a saarii that drapes over the shoulder; phirnaa: to wander, to revolve; [kisii se] Darnaa: to be afraid [of something]; phuul: flower; [kisii se] zyaadaa: more [than something]; chaal: gait; sambhal karnaa: to be careful; chalnaa: to go; zulfe.N: hair; girnaa: to fall; gaal: cheek; mausam: season, atmosphere; jhalak: glimpse; raahii: traveler; ruk jaanaa: to halt; ruup: beauty; salonaa: gorgeous, stunning; chaa.Nd: moon; sar jhuknaa: to bow [one’s] head; aaiinaa: mirror; khud: self; dil: heart; tiir: arrow; chaahat: love, desire; tasviir: picture; diiwaanaa: mad; bharaa: filled; nikalnaa: to emerge; zarr: particle (see use in “O Mere Shah-e Khuban“)

Rajendra Kumar and Saroja Devi in
Rajendra Kumar and Saroja Devi fall unavoidably in love during the Urdu lover’s paradise that is “Teri Pyari Pyari Surat” from Sasural (1960).

This incredibly apt Mohammed Rafi song was requested by mega-fan Ravi Chandran. Hope you and your special someone love it!

As for me, I wish a Happy Valentine’s Day to my sweet husband who still writes me love letters that would make Hasrat Jaipuri envious! Fortunately, knowing my style, he has entirely avoided mention of the whole “nazar” cliché…

– Mrs. 55

Advertisements

Tum Hi Mere Mandir Lyrics and Translation: Let’s Learn Urdu-Hindi

Nutan_Khandan
Nutan embodies the essence of an archetypal pativrata wife in Khandaan (1965)

Today, we present the lyrics and English translation to “Tum Hi Mere Mandir” from Khandaan (1965).

In light of the ongoing #MeToo movement that has now made its way to the echelons of Bollywood elite, perhaps this song was not the most timely choice. Let me be clear: I do not support the misogynistic undertones of husband-worshipping expressed in this song. I do, however, love this song for Ravi’s delicately crafted tune that has been rendered to perfection by Lata Mangeshkar in her all-time prime.

Viewed with modern eyes, Rajendra Krishan’s words can certainly be construed as misogynstic and downright cringeworthy. However, appreciating these lyrics in the context of the story depicted in Khandaan adds a bit of tempering nuance. In this film, Sunil Dutt plays a man with special needs who feels that he is not a worthy partner to his wife. To strengthen his spirit, the ever-graceful Nutan comforts him with a serenade of this lilting gem. The lyrics of “Tum Hi Mere Mandir” take on a more egalitarian meaning in this context: instead of espousing blind subservience, marital love is portrayed as a divine commitment that should not be weakened by judging our partners for their flaws and imperfections.

This iconic song took home some of the big prizes at the Filmfare Awards Ceremony of 1966. Ravi won Best Music Director, Rajendra Krishan won Best Lyricist, and Lata Mangeshkar received a well-deserved Best Singer award (her third of four total). I mean, it can’t just be my heart that skips a beat as Lata begins to hum that lullaby in the third stanza?

-Mr. ’55

Nutan_SunilDutt_Khandan
Nutan comforts her husband Sunil Dutt with this iconic love song in Khandaan (1965)

Tum Hi Mere Mandir: Lyrics and English Translation

tum hii mere mandir, tum hii merii puujaa
You are my temple, you are my prayer.
tum hii devtaa ho
You are my God.
koii merii aa.nkho.n se dekhe to samjhe
If someone were to see through my eyes, they would understand
ki tum mere kyaa ho
what you mean to me.

jidhar dekhtii huu.n, udhar tum hii tum ho
Wherever I look, I see you and only you.
na jaane magar kin khayaalo.n me.n gum ho
But I do not know what thoughts you are lost in.
mujhe dekh kar tum zaraa muskuraa do
Show me a smile when you glance at me,
nahii.n to mai.n samjhuungii mujh se khafaa ho
or else I will think that you are angry with me.

tum hii mere maathe kii bindiyaa kii jhilmil
You are the sparkle of the bindi on my forehead.
tum hii mere haatho.n ke gajaro.n kii manzil
You are the destination of the flower garlands in my hands.
mai.n huu.n ik chhotii-sii maaTii kii guDiyaa
I am just a little clay doll.
tum hii praaN mere, tum hii aatmaa ho
You are my life, you are my soul.

bahut raat biitii chalo mai.n sulaaa duu.n
It is late in the night; come, let me put you to sleep.
pavan chheDe sargam, mai.n lorii sunaa duu.n, mmmm….
The wind carries a tune, while I sing you a lullaby.
tumhe.n dekh kar yeh khayaal aa rahaa hai
When I look at you, I feel that I am watching
ki jaise farishtaa koii so rahaa ho
an angel in peaceful slumber.

tum hii mere mandir, tum hii merii puujaa
You are my temple, you are my prayer.
tum hii devtaa ho
You are my God.

Glossary

mandir: temple; puujaa: prayer; devtaa: God; gum: lost; muskuraanaa: to smile; khafaa: angry; bindiyaa: decorative mark worn in middle of forehead by Indian women; jhilmil: sparkle; gajraa: flower garland; manzil: destination; maaTii: clay; guDiyaa: doll; praaN: life; aatmaa: soul; sulaanaa: to put to sleep; pavan: breeze, wind; sargam: melody, tune; lorii: lullaby; farishtaa: angel.

Nutan_SunilDutt_Khandan
Nutan serenades Sunil Dutt on a casual bedroom jhoola in Khandaan (1965).

Awaaz Deke Humen Tum Bulaao Lyrics and Translation: Let’s Learn Urdu-Hindi

Shammi Kapoor awaaz deke professor
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 awaaz deke professor
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 Professor outfit glasses hat
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

Mera Kuch Saamaan Lyrics and Translation: Let’s Learn Urdu-Hindi

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)
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 struggles deeply as she is forced to grapple with her husband's history with Anuradha Patel and its effects on their marriage in Ijaazat (1987)
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.

a
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

Chain Se Humko Kabhi Lyrics and Translation: Let’s Learn Urdu-Hindi

Asha Bhonsle and O.P. Nayyar share a joyful moment together. Photo Credit: indianexpress.com

Today, we present the lyrics and English translation to a soul-stirring melody composed by O.P. Nayyar and sung by Asha Bhonsle that has stood the test of time: chain se ham ko kabhiiAlthough this song was supposed to be included in Pran Jaye Par Vachan Na Jaye (1974) directed by S. Ali Raza, it never made the final cut! In spite of its prominent absence from a movie, this memorable composition has been treasured by Hindi film music lovers for years ever since it was released. While the profound beauty of this rare song never fails to earn universal appreciation, many fans may be surprised to learn about the behind-the-scenes drama surrounding the the making and release of chain se ham ko kabhii.

When Asha Bhonsle was 16 years old, she eloped with her elder sister Lata Mangeshkar’s 31-year-old personal secretary Ganpatrao Bhonsle against the wishes of her family. Over the course of an unhappy marriage, the allegedly abusive Ganpatrao grew suspicious of Asha’s faithfulness to their marriage and eventually cast her out of their home in 1960 . Pregnant with her third child, Asha left the Bhonsle household permanently in order to secure a better future for her children. A few years later, Asha and music director O.P. Nayyar began a nine-year romantic relationship in 1963 that quickly became the talk of the tabloids.  Although both Asha and O.P. were married legally to their spouses, they lived together for many years in O.P.’s penthouse flat at the Miramar building in Mumbai. During this period, the duo churned out a series of memorable musical hits that fans of Hindi film music still hold dear to their hearts: diivaanaa huaa baadal from Kashmir Ki Kali (1964), yeh hai reshmii zulfo.n kaa andheraa from Mere Sanam (1965), zaraa haule haule chalo more saajnaa from Sawan Ki Ghata (1966), yehii woh jagah hai from Yeh Raat Phir Na Aayegi (1966), and aao huzuur tum ko from Kismat (1968), among many other gems.

Sadly, this musical power couple encountered a rough patch in their relationship around 1972. One account of this story claims that Asha decided to leave O.P. when she saw him raising a hand and slapping her grown daughter Varsha. Whatever the reason may have been for their break-up, the couple had one last piece of unfinished business to deal with as they separated: the songs they had made together for the film Pran Jaye Par Vachan Na Jaye. Recorded before the couple had decided to part ways, records of these songs had been released several months in advance of the film’s premiere in 1974. Following the tragic break-up, Asha used her clout in the industry to have chain se ham ko kabhii deleted from the movie before it was released in theaters. However, the song had gained such widespread acclaim on its own that it won Asha her sixth Filmfare Award for Best Female Playback Singer in 1975. Since Asha refused to go to the ceremony to receive this award, O.P. Nayyar accepted the trophy on her behalf. It is said that O.P. then tossed the trophy out the window on his car ride home, ending their relationship on a truly sour note.

To this day, Asha refuses to acknowledge O.P. Nayyar publically and does not credit him for her early successes in the playback singing industry. Interestingly, in his old age, O.P. Nayyar overcame the bitterness of the duo’s break-up and admitted that Asha was “the best person I’ve ever met.

Chain Se Humko Kabhi: Lyrics and Translation

chain se ham ko kabhii aap ne jiine na diyaa
You have never let me live in peace.
zahar bhii chaahaa agar, piinaa to piine na diyaa
Yet, even if I asked to die by poison, you would not let me drink it.

chand ke rath me.n raat kii  dulhan jab jab aayegii
When the Night arrives as a bride on the Moon’s chariot,
yaad hamaarii aap ke dil ko taDpaa jaayegii
memories of me will continue to cause you heartache.
pyaar ke jalte zakhmo.n se jo dil me.n ujaalaa hai
The light in your heart emanating from our love’s burning wounds
ab to bicchaD ke aur bhii zyaadaa baDhnevaalaa hai
will continue to shine more brightly now that we are apart.
aap ne jo hai diyaa, vah to kisii ne na diyaa
What you have given to me, no one else has been able to replicate.
zahar bhii chaahaa agar, piinaa to piine na diyaa
Yet, even if I asked to die by poison, you would not let me drink it.

aap kaa gham jo is dil me.n din-raat agar hogaa
To bear your sorrow in my heart all day and night,
soch ke yah dam ghuTataa hai, phir kaise guzar hogaa?
the very thought of this is suffocating. How can I endure it?
kaash na aatii apnii judaayiimaut hii aa jaatii
If only death had come to me instead of this separation,
koii bahaane chain hamaari ruuh to paa jaati
then, under this pretext, my soul could finally rest at peace.
ek pal ha.nsnaa kabhii dil kii lagii ne na diyaa
My heart’s emotions have never let me smile for a moment.
zahar bhii chaahaa agar, piinaa to piine na diyaa
Yet, even if I asked to die by poison, you would not let me drink it.

chain se ham ko kabhii aap ne jiine na diyaa
You have never let me live in peace.

Glossary

chain: peace; zahar: poison; rath: chariot; dulhan: bride; ujaalaa: light; sulagnaa: to smolder; dam ghuTnaa: to suffocate; guzar honaa: to endure, subsist; kaash: if only; judaayii: separation; maut: death; bahaanaa: pretext; ruuh: soul; lagii: emotion, feeling.

In the context of this tumultuous backstory, the lyrics of chain se ham ko kabhii (penned by S.H. Bihari) are aptly fitting as Asha’s final swan song under O.P. Nayyar’s baton. Thank you to our reader Tanushree for requesting a post on this beautiful song and its interesting history–keep those requests coming! Until next time…

-Mr. 55

Pran
A young Rekha stars in Pran Jaye Par Vachan Na Jaye (1964). Since the song was deleted from the released film, details surrounding the picturization of chain se ham ko kabhii remain a mystery to this day.