Rohit Subramanian

 

 

Patriotic songs have always had a special place in Indian pop culture  - from the original Vande Maataram in the 1930's to the sensational 1997 reinvention by A.R.Rahman. Rahman in particular has added a great deal to the genre through his compositions for The Legend of Bhagat Singh, Swades, and Rang De Basanti. But another album in this genre is arguably his most underrated ever -  Bose, the Forgotten Hero. And no song shines brighter in this forgotten album than Desh Ki Mitti.

Desh Ki Mitti came during Rahman's most productive Symphony Orchestra Phase - the early 2000's. The use of the symphony has produced memorable pieces in A.R.Rahman's music throughout his career, but the early 2000's were when he used it in as many different scenarios as he could, producing some wonderful results - Zubeidaa, The Legend of Bhagat Singh, and he even managed to incorporate it into Lagaan, in O Ri Chori, and the Waltz piece, continuing years after in the out-of-the-world Tu Muskura, from Yuvvraj in 2008. 

Set to the Amir Kalyani ragam, a piano stringing the song together, and the orchestra providing the drama, the song is anchored in the lyrics of Javed Akhtar - a poem that describes the difficulties of an Indian stranded abroad looking for his motherland in these foreign surroundings during Bose's exile in Germany. 

The best piece of this beautiful puzzle comes in the form of Sonu Niigam's voice. Of the few songs that Sonu Niigam has lent his voice to A.R.Rahman, this one shines brightly at the top in large reason because this song needed his voice. Few songs demand one specific singer, and the choice of Sonu Niigam to sing this one was smashingly apt. Anuradha Sriram's accompanying vocals in the background lift the mood of the song significantly. If Sonu Niigam's voice represents the protagonist of the song, Anuradha is the voice of nostalgia that is drawing Bose back to his motherland. 

Each component of this song is carefully chosen and used with a level of finesse that matches the best of ARR's music. 

 

Why then has this song been forgotten? Several factors - not having a huge star, not being a very big production, and patriotic movies not necessarily being the flavor of the 2000s (none of the Bhagat Singh movies of the early 2000s worked at the box office). The lack of dedicated visuals for the song probably also played a role - not many people can necessarily picture this song in their heads. 

ARR famously doesn't pick his favorite songs - to him, they are all created equally through the same process. And it is a song like Desh Ki Mitti that demonstrates why that is an important stance. Here's a song that is as close perfection as can be, and yet didn't achieve the popularity it deserved, unlike even lesser ARR classics. 

Kaansen Khronicles #5: Revisiting songs from years past, that have been lost in the chaos of the social media-era content explosion! 

In the fall of 2004, the collective attention of every music channel or TV show covering Bollywood was focused on a Shah Rukh Khan movie that was a huuuuge hit even before it was released. Veer-Zaara was the mother of all love stories, a story that brought India and Pakistan together, made by Bollywood's Royalty, Yash Chopra. To add another feather to its cap, music for the film came from old unused compositions by Madan Mohan, a storied music producer from the 1950's - 60's. Every music store you walked into had Veer Zara songs playing and the cassette's and CD's were flying off the shelves.

But even with all the uniqueness and speciality of Veer-Zaara notwithstanding, the most remarkable album of 2004 came with a completely different SRK movie, the buzz around which started out with an obscure music video featuring SRK and a disheveled fakir driving through the arid central-Indian countryside in a camper. It would've been hard to say at the time, but in a span of a few years Swades became one of A.R.Rahman's most iconic albums of all time, a full suite of musical genius unleashed all at once. 

Several songs from the movie are all time Rahman fan favorites, with the aforementioned Yun Hi Chala occupying a permanent place on all roadtrip playlists, and Yeh Jo Des assuming the role of spiritual successor to Vande Mataram. Between the two of them, the Swades experience is summed up as traveling through life and country, learning to accept and love your life and country for what it is. 

And yet, there is another song in the movie, one that is not as appreciated as the above two gems, that captures the essence of what Swades stood for in that moment in our history, and helped it become one of the greatest cult classics of my generation. Sung by Udit Narayan, and written by Javed Akhtar, the song talks about stars, and the place Indians can occupy among them. It is called Yeh Taara, Woh Taara.

The song came at a time when it was still acceptable to have songs with 3 Charanams. It came at a time when songs could be 7.30 minutes long and people still enjoyed listening to the song unfold at its own pace. It came at a time when there were Directors still crazy enough to take a 7.30 minute song and use it without cuts in the movie - granted, the audiences punished the Director, Ashutosh Gowariker dearly with the utter failure of this 3.5 hour long movie at the Box Office. 

Time and again, we've spoken about the importance of context to a great Indian movie song. We've talked about how much a song is elevated when it is subservient to the story it is trying to tell. When the role of the song is not to promote the movie, but to help the movie accentuate its premise. When the intent with releasing a song early in promotions is not to have a catchy tune with fast beats stuck in the minds of the listener, but instead portray a character that you are interested in learning more about. 

To that end, the premise of Yeh Taara jumps out in the first 30 seconds - the protagonist, who happens to be a NASA Scientist, is trying to demonstrate to a village the  joy of being together, all divisions removed. He shows people stars - this star, that star and every star - and tells them about how the stars put up a show when they light up the sky in constellations - all together. 

The music of this song, in keeping with the theme is plain, non-distracting and very simple. Udit Narayan's voice carries the song, other than the interludes when the symphony, and then the flute help maintain a somber mood.  In successive Charanams the metaphors extend to the colors of a rainbow, and drops of an ocean as well, before eventually landing on his point in the ultimate uptempo charanam - the fact that every member of the society has their role to play that they excel at, and the true victory for society is when they all work together! Rahman even brings in a couple of really young singers to lift the energy of the song, and succeeds in giving it an authentic feel by letting the kids sing like any normal kid would at a large gathering - with gusto and enthusiasm trumping the studio recording perfection. Small touches like this emphasise the meaning of the song, and its significance in the movie.

True to the character of the song, everything about this song lines up perfectly - the lyrics, the voice, the music and the visuals are all dedicated 100% to extending the story. In that regard, the song in itself is a metaphor for the message it delivers - each artist in the song, from SRK to Javed Akhtar, from Rahman to Gowariker, and the myriad of support artists, bring their speciality to elevate the effect of the song, like the stars he talks about.

A quick check on YouTube reveals that Yeh Jo Des is 3x, and Yun Hi Chala is a staggering 5x more popular than Yeh Taara, The lag can be explained with the usual reasons - Yeh Taara is slow, doesn't possess the universality of the other two songs, and is the longest of the three. Much the same could be said about Swades the movie - slow, not universally relatable, and fairly long. But Swades was a milestone in thought in our society - it presented a blueprint for a growing educated middle class that worked outside the country and showed them a path that may draw them back to their roots. And Yeh Taara is the only song that captures that essence of the movie - it captures the tension of a person who belongs, but is an outsider, the dilemma between letting things be and doing the right thing, the opposing forces of realism and idealism - and the result is a song, that while underappreciated, will be cherished as a representation of what was one of the most iconic films made in India! 

Kaansen Khronicles #4: Revisiting songs from years past, that have been lost in the chaos of the social media-era content explosion! 

Every Rahman album has a hidden gem - a song that never gets its due when the album first comes out, lost in the glory of other more populist, more instant hits, but one that stands the test of time, shining years, sometimes decades after it comes out, long after the hype around the chartbusters dies down. No song captures this phenomenon better than Ay Hairathe from the 2007 Mani Ratnam classic, Guru. 

One cannot solely blame the listener for not catching on to this song soon enough. Three songs deservedly received the headlines coverage when the soundtrack of Guru was launched. A-side opened with Shreya Ghoshal breaking out of her melody-queen mold, to sing a fast paced village belle rain dance sequence in Barso Re, and Rahman himself took all the attention in a couple songs he sang - Tere Bina, with Chinmayee, and Jaage Hain, a slow, but lifting anthem with characteristic high tones that have become signature of his singing style in more recent times. Mani Ratnam played a role too - Ay Hairathe was hardly in the film (I believe it played in pieces in the background for less than 2 minutes), even as the abhorrent Ek Lo Ek Muft was featured in a full five-minute segment. Even Mayya Mayya, with its Hamma Hamma vibes garnered more attention. And yet, the song from this album that will ultimately make it to the ARR Hall of Fame has to be Ay Hairathe, for several reasons.

First, for years, Rahman had built his reputation around bringing a diverse assortment of music from cultures around the World together, and making them fit beautifully - with each other, and with the surrounding context of the movie. In this game of intricately assembling music with as many foreign elements as possible and yet not feeling out of place, there has been no better exhibit than Ay Hairathe. 

Take a second to think about it: the song starts off with a slow rhythm on the accordion, quickly complemented by the Tabla, and Rahman's sufi-esque crooning, before it breaks into a melodious Ghazal by Hariharan that would do the Ustads of yesteryears proud. The shocking part is all of this happens in the first minute of the song!! It doesn't end there. The ghazal soon gives way to a very different scene - an interlude that sounds like a 19th Century Scottish Wedding, then tied back to the Ghazal in impeccable fashion, before developing into a quintessential Hindi movie duet, with Alka Yagnik's perfection, and finally settling into its groove at cruising altitude. 

Second, this song marks what I can perceive as the start of a long-lasting partnership that defined Rahman's music for years to come - his discovery of the accordion. 

Rahman's albums typically have a signature tune, and traditionally, this tune had been reserved for the flute (think Pachai Nirame from Alaipaayuthey, or Ishq Bina from Taal), and occasionally other instruments (think Mouth Organ - Padayappa, Shehnai - Swades). The accordion made its journey to the top in this song, and stayed there playing a key role in future Rahman songs (what better example than Nenjukule, a decade after Guru!).  

Ultimately, with the benefit of hindsight, we know this song is extraordinary, for the reasons stated above, but more importantly, because this is one unique sounding song - the style or the feel has not been replicated in another song in the 14 years since this album first came out. Listening to it today, it still feels fresh - if it had only been produced last week, it would still be every bit as alien, unheard of and yet, perfectly fit in our lives, the same way it did 14 years ago. 

The words from Gulzar, Hairat-e-Aashiqui speak of love so pure, it transcends all reality. This song then, fittingly, is an otherwordly song celebrating the spirit of Gulzar's poem - a Hairat-e-Song, if you will! And chances are it will remain, every bit as Hairat in the library of Bollywood music for many many years to come.  

Kaansen Khronicles #3: Revisiting songs from years past, that have been lost in the chaos of the social media-era content explosion! 

Composing music for a Rajini movie is a double edged sword - on the one hand, the songs are guaranteed unconditional love and a far reach, but equally the tight constraints of a commercial formula really narrow the room for experimentation.

For several decades, Rajini movies have had a predictable construct for songs - an opening SPB song praising the Super Star, a dance-around-the-trees duet, and a rise again from the ashes inspirational song. A.R.Rahman is the master of this formula as he demonstrated first with in the mid 1990's with Muthu, Padayappa, and much later in the late 2000's, with Sivaji, Enthiran. Nestled in between these two eras, his one attempt at experimentation, Baba, was panned by an irate fanbase because it deviated from the formula.

Needless to say, the tight window on composing music for a Rajini movie is a sufficiently difficult assignment in itself. When the goal is to experiment, though past history suggests it is a bad idea, it takes the challenge up a notch. But if above and beyond the usual drama, this is Rajini's long awaited come back movie after a significant health scare, the pressure is unbelievable.

Kochadaiyaan is not one of the Superstar's most memorable movies. Ambitious in its attempt to roll out half-baked motion capture technology to Indian cinema audiences, the movie was very quickly forgotten and is rarely shown on TV or talked about. But it did have Super Star flashing his sword (albeit only in animations), and his usual repertoire of songs, with some delightful music composed by A.R.Rahman. And the stand-out piece from the album - an entry song for Rajini called Engae Pogudho Vaanam.

The song begins with a long and elaborate prelude from a philharmonic orchestra producing remarkable dramatization for a War Hero leading the army back home after Victory - unstoppable and wanting to soar through the sky and conquer the universe. The dramatic prelude leads into powerful vocals from SPB and an energetic chorus. Who would've thought trumpets and a brass ensemble would fit with mythological Indian kings. And if that association intrigues you, there is more to look for in the song.

About halfway into the song, after the anu-pallavi, the song transcends to a whole different level when it marches into the interlude, with the unmistakably sounds like bagpipes!! While it is not outside the realm of possibilities that Rahman hired a skirl of bagpipers to record the song, it is far more likely  that a synthesizer was used to produce the sound of a bagpipe - still a sound not often heard in Indian movie songs. And as your brain comes to accept the bagpipe as a classical instrument celebrating a mythological Hindu Warrior, and seamlessly enters "I'm-loving-this" mode, another element is introduced to further blow your mind away. In a flash of creative genius, the bagpipe is accompanied by a rather mismatched choice of percussion - a mridangam!! Who else but Rahman would marry the Mridangam to a Bagpipe in an Indian mythological setting, while ensuring neither of these elements feels out of place!!

The peak of the song undoubtedly comes when Rajini thanks his fans for their prayers in bringing him back to life. The line, "Ungalil Vaazthugalal Uyir Kondu Ezhundhu Vitaen, Vazhthiya Manangalukku, En Vazhkayai Vazhangi Viten", appropriately features the highest notes of the song with the violins literally rising to the occasion.

Kochadaiyaan is one of A.R.Rahman's least celebrated albums. This album, and more specifically, this song deserves to be remembered as a specimen that represents the best of his musical abilities delivered tactly within the boundaries of the commercial cinema in India -  as an artful song packaged beautifully into a masala setting, and as a World Song with exotic instruments presented ingeniously in a mythological context. 

Kaansen Khronicles #2: Revisiting songs from years past, that have been lost in the chaos of the social media-era content explosion! 

"There are two big moments in every human's life - the first when he is born, and the second when he finds out why he was born", said A.R.Rahman talking about the meaning of Naan Yen Piranthen, a gem from his 2013 appearance on Coke Studio. A deeply poetic song celebrating the beauty of God's creation and the purposeful place of every soul and being in the cosmos, the lyrics, the mood it sets and the elements of Sufi existentialism are right up Rahman's alley of melodious solos, a la Vellai Pookal and the Gurus of Peace.

Starting with a rustic piece by Rayhanah, the song, its lyrics and the gentle strings by Keba all paint the calming imagery of a fishing hamlet during the rainy season, with a philosopher sitting under a tree expouding his discovery of the purpose of life as a second birth. The dramatization of this rebirth moment comes in the form of Prasanna's Electric Guitar that stays under the radar until the last charnam of the song, and the chorus plays the role of the surrounding society. The song has the makings of a great folk piece, complemented with the contemporary elements of Mohini Dey on the bass, and a string quartet. It is fair to say that the song shares a lot of its DNA with the music of Kadal, the Mani Ratnam movie that released the same year with some memorable pieces of music like Nenjukulle, and Elay Keechan (subjects of other posts in this collection).

As for the philosopher personified in the song, the lyricist Vaali would be a great fit. Having written thousands of songs over five decades, this celebration of  spiritual awakening was ironically, one of his last poems. Vaali passed in July 2013, a few weeks before the song premiered on Coke Studio.

The song serves as a great tribute to his legendary songwriting. It also serves as a great tribute to the work A.R.Rahman does in bringing the people of the World together.

A quick review of the comments on social media about this song reveals several stories of people loving the music and sensing the deep essence of the song - though they do not understand a single word of Tamil. It is one thing for people to understand the lyrics of a song and connect with it. It is a whole different experience for people to feel the emotions of a song, and then line it up with what it literally means. And transcending that boundary where you feel the emotions of words through his music, not knowing what the words mean, is what makes A.R.Rahman special.

Kaansen Khronicles #1: Revisiting Songs from years past, that have been lost in the chaos of Social Media-era content explosion! 

Picture this. A girl returns from a bizarre trip to Corsica, where she meets a stranger, and she falls in love with him. She doesn't know his name, or anything about where he comes from or what he does. Anguished at her foolishness for letting her soul mate leave without the classic Bollywood "Kya Yahi Pyaar Hai" song in the Alps, she does her best to get on with life, getting big promotions at work and all, but barely hiding the fact that she is borderline clinically depressed, and desperately needs to find herself the love of her life. Picture all this, and then insert a quirky 4 man Bhangra Band that likes to punctuate every sentence they sing with a stereotypical "Haye Hoye". Misfit ? Nope. Just A.R.Rahman doing his genius thing.

Coming at a time where his obsession with the Punjabi/Bhangra genre was at its peak following Katiya Karoon and Patakha Gudhi in the years prior to Tamasha, Heer Toh Badi Sad Hai, is a classic Rahman number with symphonical layers woven together underneath the leading instrument - a Tumbi and the Sarangi in this instance - and crisp vocals from Mika Singh. The song generally has a peppy outlook, and the Bhangra Boys singing it on the screen dont look too upset while they're singing in celebration either - especially the older gentleman with his toothless grin.

The song itself beautifully captures the effects of Depression - a superficially content and satisfying life, but the deep issues beneath the surface waiting to drag a person down. Irshad Kamil's lyrics add another layer of simple language loaded with cliched analogies that help the listener connect with Tara.

Indian Film songs do not live in isolation - they are often pieces of a bigger puzzle - the story the director is trying to tell. This song is yet another showpiece of the crucial mental connection Rahman seems to make with some of his repeated collaborators like Imtiaz Ali that helps him set the mood with a song in the context of the larger story surrounding it.

Some day, I hope to read a story about how Imtiaz Ali and A.R.Rahman envisioned using this theme to highlight Heer, or Tara's despair, but in the meantime, this song needs to be celebrated as one of Rahman's best offerings in the past decade in Hindi cinema.