Gulzar Kuch Huye Nagme - 8

Movie: Kabuliwala (1966)
Music Director: Salil Choudhury
Singer: Hemant Kumar

In 1966 Bimal Roy Productions adapted the short novella of Rabindranath Tagore “Kabuliwala” to the silver screen. Salil Chaudhury composed the music to Gulzar’s poetry. Manna Dey’s soulful rendition of “Aye mere pyaare watan” still evokes emotions in all those who have left their homelands in search of a better life in a distant foreign nation. The song that got overshadowed by the popularity of the above song was the one sung by Hemant Kumar – “Ganga aaye kahaan se”.

The composition purely relies on the vocals and makes minimal use of musical instruments - the most prominent being a one string instrument and a small percussion instrument (called – duff or duggi) used in rural eastern India. Gulzar uses Ganga as a larger being to drive home the point: “Equality amongst religion, color, race, social status, languages and caste”. Gulzar shies away from using Urdu or difficult Hindi words, instead chooses light rural slang, sample these: Maati instead of Mitti, Ujiyaaraa instead of Ujiyaalaa, Kaari instead of Kaali.

Gangaa aaye kahaan se, Gangaa jaaye kahaan re aaye kahaan se,
jaaye kahaan re laharaaye paani mein jaise dhuup-chhaanv re

raat kaari din ujiyaaraa mil gaye donon saaye
raat kaari din ujiyaaraa mil gaye donon saaye
saanjh ne dekho rang roop ke kaise bhed mitaaye re
laharaaye paani mein jaise dhuup-chhaanv re
Gangaa aaye kahaan se, Gangaa jaaye kahaan re
laharaaye paani mein jaise dhuup-chhaanv re

Here, Gulzar masterfully uses the metaphor of evening (saanjh) to convey the message about how it eliminates (or mixes) the difference in the brightness of the day and the darkness of the night – the former being a reference to fairness/beauty and the latter being the dark skinned/ugly (could also be referenced to the caste system which was much more prevalent in the sixties).

kaanch koyi maatii koyi rang-birange pyaale
kaanch koyi maatii koyi rang-birange pyaale
pyaas lage to ek baraabar jis mein paani daale re
laharaaye paani mein jaise dhuup-chhaanv re
Gangaa aaye kahaan se, Gangaa jaaye kahaan re
laharaaye paani mein jaise dhuup-chhaanv re

This one is my personal favorite of the three couplets. Translating this literally, he is saying that when one is thirsty it doesn’t matter how one drinks the water (of the Ganga) - through a cup made from clay or made from colorful glass. I leave the underlying meaning for you to figure out. Other than the meaning, what I really like about this couplet is the structure. He starts with describing the different types of cups in the first line, and then gets to saying that if you are thirsty, they are all the same when you fill them with water. It’s hard to structure it in English the same way, but if you listen to the song for the first time without knowing the subsequent line, it enhances the effect a thousand times than if it was structured linearly.

naam koyi boli koyi laakhon roop aur chehre
naam koyi boli koyi laakhon roop aur chehre
khol ke dekho pyar ki aankhen sab tere sab mere
laharaaye paani mein jaise dhuup-chhaanv re
Gangaa aaye kahaan se, Gangaa jaaye kahaan re
laharaaye paani mein jaise dhuup-chhaanv re
Gangaa aaye kahaan se, Gangaa jaaye kahaan re

This one is straight: He is talking about how God has many names, forms, faces, but when viewed through the eyes of love, they are all the same – your (Gods) and my (Gods). Each couplet begins and ends with the reference to Gangaa which seems to be flowing for no purpose and from no particular place to no place in particular. Get it?

Overall, a song with an underlying message (without being too obviously preachy),a haunting melody and a distant quality in the voice of Hemant Kumar makes this a timeless classic.

This I Believe - An Open Door

While reading some of the essays from the compilation of NPR's series "This I Believe", it was natural that I was stirred to think about my own beliefs. It does sound easy to know what you believe in and write about it in 300 words or less, however, it is quite a task. Peeling layers and layers of emotions, prejudices, experiences and thoughts is a daunting task. It's almost the equivalent of being naked...stark naked, mentally and identify those basic convictions which shapes one as a person. I was struggling to find at least one basic "belief" but was always optimistic that I will find it. I accidentally stumbled upon one such belief, this morning and thus my first essay for "This I Believe".

I believe in keeping the door of my home open, open to anyone who wants to come inside, anytime of the day or night. This, I attribute to my mother, to my father and the rest of my family - my grandparents, my two paternal uncles and aunts. I grew up in a joint family and real estate was always scarce. My grandfather would open the front door of our house at about 5 AM in the morning. From that early hour of the morning till about 11 PM or midnight, that door stayed open, it was always OPEN. Many guests, visitors, neighbors would stop by on a regular basis - some would have tea, breakfast, lunch, supper, dinner with us depending on the time of the day, completely uninvited. Some of them spent the night with us. Some out of town guests, relatives, friends would show at midnight, un-announced and they would be welcome with equal zest and complete openness. Someone from the family would fashion a quick meal from whatever was left-over and would make sure that the guest was well-fed and had a clean bed to sleep on.

There was never even a behind-the-door "Ohh why did they stop by now? I am so tired, I wish they won't stay until dinner!" reaction from anyone. I remember many nights when my mother would wake me and my brother up from deep sleep because some distant relative had arrived in the middle of the night with the entire family and planned to spend a week at our place (they always had some obscure wedding to attend ). Me and my brother would be tasked with ensuring that the kids were comfortable in our room, we would have to join our beds so that all of us could sleep together. There are many such incidents, my college friends have stayed in my house even when I wasn't around just because they were in town and wanted a place to crash, long lost ex-colleagues of my father have showed up after years of no contact and have spent a week with us, relatives of our neighbors have stayed with us because there was no room in our neighbor's house, neighbors from our past residences in other cities have showed up and stayed with us etc. I will have to agree that there were times when we (me and my brother) found this quite irksome and have expressed that in more than one ways to our parents. However, they continued and still continue with the "open door" policy. As a growing child and an adolescent, this physical and metaphorical "open door", sub-consciously had opened doors within me.

Today, after many years of leaving my house (seventeen to be precise), the only real thing that has left within me from that house is that "open door". This door is open to all, at all times - it is only natural, there is no other way I know of. This I Believe.

8 Countries in 5 hours

On Saturday, May 9th 2009, embassies of the European Union in Washington DC opened their doors for the public. I was looking forward to the day and was planning to visit as many of them as I possibly could. A could not accompany me and the thought of walking around on Mass Ave by myself on a hot muggy day wasn't quite appealing. Thankfully, E and E joined me and saved the day for me.
The entire experience was a lot more fun and rewarding than I had anticipated - the art work and furniture in the residence of the Dutch ambassador, the exquisite wood panelled walls of the embassy of Luxembourg, a walk in the manicured gardens of the British Embassy, learning more about Slovenia and Latvia while sampling their baked goods etc. However, the two highlights of the entire tour were the visit to the Italian embassy and the embassy of Portugal.

At the Italian embassy, I had randomly picked up a tourism brochure of the region of Veneto and was browsing through the many photos of the landmarks of that region, when E pointed to a picture of a beautiful sun-soaked piazza of a small Italian town, Marostica and said that she and E got married right there. Now for someone who comes from a nondescript plains of Central India, this is a whole different level of cool. I do not know of anyone else who can claim being married at a place featured in a tourism brochure. Bellissimo!!
The second highlight was the visit to the embassy of Portugal. After waiting for about an hour in the line outside the embassy in the hot Sun, we were let inside and while we were whispering under our breath that this better be worth the wait and the sunburns, the usher informed us that the Ambassador himself will be addressing us. We were escorted inside his office and he spoke to us for a good 20 minutes, patiently explaining us the glorious history of Portugal (mostly the sea explorations), his functions as the Ambassador and the relations of Portugal with the United States. He was gracious, witty and patient in answering our questions - even after a lady from our group almost offended him by asking if the Dutch colonized Portugal! Later on, he stopped me and had a one on one conversation about his friendship with the previous Indian Ambassador to the US and his fondness towards the Indian culture. The Port wine we sampled after that brief rendezvous tasted sweeter than it actually was.
If you ever find yourself in DC in the month of May, watch out for the events calendar for this once in a year opportunity. Not only will you be glad you did it, but you can boast that you visited a handful of countries in a span of hours - we did 8 in 5 hours. Anyone keeping records?

Well, up yours too, Ghai!!

After inflicting the world with such atrocities like Yuvvraj, Yaadein, Kisna and Trimurti and many more; this alleged "show"-man has the nerve to show the world his middle-finger.

(P.S.: This picture was taken after he cast his vote at the recent general elections. I remember, the index finger was used to mark the little holy dot of ink, but guess the middle finger makes a lot of sense. You can now stick it to the proverbial man every time you vote!)