Gulzar once said lyrics should “amaze or amuse”, or otherwise no one would care. In his six-decade career as a poet-lyricist, he certainly stuck to this principle.
His best work in the first half of his career was with R.D. Burman. After a lull following Burman’s death, with composers like A.R. Rahman, Vishal Bhardwaj and Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy entering his world, his lyrics gained a new ferocity, as filmmakers and their gradually evolving subject matters gave him room to experiment and push the envelope.
Here are only some of Gulzar’s best-written (not necessarily his most successful) songs.
‘Mora Gora Ang’, Bandini (1963)
A textbook example of how Gulzar turns a traditional love song into something ethereal: evoking “Shyam”, which means evening as well as the Hindu god of love Krishna. He writes: “Mora gora ang lai le, mohey shyam rang dei de / Choop jaungi raat hi mein, mohey pee ka sang dei de” (‘Take my fair body, colour me as dark as shyam / I will hide myself in the night, grant me the company of my beloved’).
‘Humne Dekhi Hai Un Aankhon Ki Mehakti Khusboo’, Khamoshi (1969)
Can you see the fragrance of the eyes? Gulzar can. This was among one of Gulzar’s earliest songs where a sensory experience is accorded to a body part to which it is foreign. But what makes this song work, after its unorthodox opening, are the graceful lines that follow.
‘Haal Chaal Theek Thaak Hai’, Mere Apne (1971)
Among one of Gulzar’s earliest political songs, the lines here are caustic and timeless. In one verse, he refers to the ruling class with “makaanon pe pagdi waale sasur khade” (‘Tough father-in-laws stand atop buildings’), which is rhymed with “koi in buzurghon se kaise lade?” (‘How do we fight these old men?’).
In another, he explains the food-and-money situation with the image of a roti rolling down the street followed by a silver coin, but a kite flies away with the roti and a crow escapes with the coin.
‘Musafir Hoon Yaaron’, Parichay (1972)
Gulzar creates some really simple but evocative images in this song about a wanderer. He writes, ‘if one path didn’t work out, another came by, and sometimes the path followed me the way I turned’. Then he writes: ‘sometimes the day beckoned me there, the night called me there, I made friends with both dawn and dusk’.
‘O Majhi Re’, Khushboo (1975)
Rivers, shores and boatmen are recurring images in Gulzar’s lyrics, and this is perhaps his most definitive song in that respect. Among the stand-out metaphors here is Gulzar’s description of lonely wanderers as eroded strips of land floating in search of a shore.
‘Dil Dhoondhta Hai’, Mausam (1975)
In contrast to the upbeat tune, Gulzar’s free verse about reminiscing an old love is rather poised and graceful.
The lyrics perhaps may be better appreciated if read as a poem. Some pleasant imagery here: “Jhaado ki narm dhoop aur aangan mein letkar aankhon pe kheenchkar tere daaman ke saaye ko / aundhe pade rahe kabhi karvat liye huye” (‘I lay prone in the courtyard under the soft shade of trees, drawing your shadow over my eyes, sometimes twisting and turning’).
‘Tere Bina Zindagi’, Aandhi (1975)
Once again with a romantic song, Gulzar’s powerful introduction sets up and defines the sort of love to be explored. This time, there’s affection, but between old souls: ‘Without you, I have no complaints with life, but life isn’t life without you’, he writes.
‘Masterji Ki Aa Gayi Chitthi’, Kitaab (1977)
Gulzar’s reputation for wacky, out-there lyrics is surely courtesy his work with the post-1990s composers, but some of his particularly eccentric work with R.D. Burman deserves credit for sending him down that road.
In this song, among other things, out of the masterji’s letter pops out a betel leaf-chewing cat wearing shades and a mosquito with a mountain-carrying moustache.
‘Ek Akela Iss Shahar Me’, Gharaonda (1977)
A terrific song about urban loneliness. Had Travis Bickle heard this, he may have calmed down and not attempted assassinations and gunfights. Among its most haunting lines about the indifferent city: “Din khali khali bartan hai aur raat hai jaise andha kuaan” (The days are like empty vessels, the nights are a bottomless well).
‘Aaj Kal Paon Zameen Par’, Ghar (1978)
The lightness of touch in Gulzar’s lyrics complements the optimistic yet modest hopes of a young blooming romance. In a standout verse, Gulzar writes, ‘whenever I held your hand and looked, people said it’s only the lines on your palm, but I saw two destinies coming together’.
‘Phirse Aaiyo Badra Bidesi’, Namkeen (1982)
Splendid imagery abounds in this haunting song filled with longing. With mentions of clouds, a lake, a terrace, a peepal tree, a garden, a small bridge and so on, he magnificently creates a psycho-geography that gets engulfed in yearning with each passing line.
‘Mera Kuchh Samaan’, Ijaazat (1987)
Gulzar’s ultimate breakup/heartbreak song, but such a facetious description hardly does justice to the brilliance of ‘Mera Kuchh Samaan’. From the simple idea of wanting your stuff back from your ex-lover’s house, Gulzar creates a tapestry of the haunted memories of a relationship that once was.
‘Khamosh Sa Afsana’, Libaas (1988)
This feels like a song created out of ideas and metaphors Gulzar has turned to before in other songs, for example, ‘Humne Dekhi Hai In Aankhon Ki Mehakti Khusboo’, which is concerned with love that is best left unexpressed, and ‘O Majhi Re’, with its metaphors of river as life and shore as companion. It is the combination of these two ideas that lend the song its potency.
‘Chhod Aye Hum’, Maachis (1996)
A great song that documents the emotions and memories one has for their homeland and the endless gloom that follows when it is ravaged. The best line in the song goes, “Ek chota sa lamhaa hai, jo khatam nahi hota / Main laakh jalata hoon, yeh bhasm nahi hota”. (‘A small moment in time that just doesn’t end / I keep setting it on fire, but it is never burned down’).
‘Dil Se Re’, Dil Se.. (1998)
An absolutely bombastic declaration of love, in contrast to the subdued grace of the earlier romantic songs in this list. Just a sigh of the heart causes the sun to shine, the mercury to melt and a storm to rise, Gulzar writes in the opening verse. Then he creates some extraordinary imagery about two stray leaves in another verse, which gets better the more you listen and contemplate the lines.
‘Goli Maar Bheje Mein’, Satya (1998)
Don’t think, just shoot, for if you think, you die – Gulzar spins a rollicking fun song out of this simple gangster’s code of living. Gulzar is writing from the perspective of absolute scoundrels, using their lingo, and despite the coarseness of the words (or because of it), the message is communicated sharply.
‘Ghapla Hai Bhai’, Hu Tu Tu (1999)
Everything is a scam, Gulzar writes, in this satirical song through which he takes potshots at the political class. Gulzar drops the mocking tone in the final verse and embraces the true sadness of the subject matter: “… ghiste ghiste fat jaate hai juton jaise log bechaare … pairon mein pehne jaate hai, jalse aur jalluso mein”. (‘People are like shoes, tattered from overuse, worn at celebrations and processions’).
‘Hum Bhul Gaye’, Aks (1999)
If we are to strip the song of the film’s context, Gulzar’s lyrics, which depict an experience of feeling disassociated from oneself, might just be about depression. He writes, “Umeed bhi ajnabee lagti hai aur dard paraya lagta hai / Aaine me jisko dekha tha bichda huwa saya lagta hai.” (‘Hope seems like a stranger and pain feels foreign, the one I see in the mirror seems like a shadow separated from me’).
‘Haath Choote’, Pinjar (2003)
Gulzar’s lyrics are a 101 on how to deal with relationships that are about to or have completely run their course. He writes, ‘even if the holding of hands gets loose, do not end ties’. Then he writes, ‘if one has to indeed leave, don’t break your heart for them’.
‘Piya Tora Kaisa Abhimaan’, ‘Raincoat’ (2004)
In a song essentially about endlessly waiting for your beloved, the allusions to Hindu traditions and myths lend it a timeless folkish quality. Gulzar weaves the angst of pining with the images of Radha-Krishna’s romance under the kadam tree, kahars carrying a palanquin, bathing in the Jamuna for absolving one’s sins and wearing the “garal saman” or poison-like mark of sandalwood on the forehead to embrace a hermit’s life as one’s lover won’t ever return.
‘O Saathi Re’, Omkara (2006)
As much as choosing the best lyrics in Omkara is a toss-up between the ornate raunchiness of ‘Namak’ and the sublime beauty of ‘O Saathi Re’, the warmth in the latter’s description of mutual affection is more effective than the cleverness of the former’s innuendos. Gulzar draws some lovely images in O Saathi Re, particularly in a verse that follows a couple fishing on a riverbank on a red evening.
‘Ay Hairathe’, Guru (2007)
Like moments in ‘O Saathi Re’ and a bunch of other love songs, like the ones from Ghar and Ijaazat, Gulzar is a master at highlighting the particularities of a relationship, mentioning specific details and giving the relationship a lived-in quality. ‘Ay Hairathe’ is just one more example in which Gulzar brings grace to the intense cuteness of a marriage’s honeymoon years.
‘Kaminey’, Kaminey (2009)
Gulzar writes, ‘everyone and everything is damned, including me, my hopes, my dreams, my friendships’, the list goes on. In a song where self-pity is the only conclusion of introspection, there are moments of cruel beauty, such as a verse where Gulzar writes, “Jiska bhi chehra cheela, andar se aur nika / Masoom sa kabootar / naacha to mor nika”. (‘I found someone else everytime I scratched a face’ / ‘An innocent pigeon danced, turned out to be a peacock’).
‘Dil To Bachcha Hai Ji’, Ishqiya (2010)
What’s great about the lyrics here is how from a definite premise – that of an old man feeling young again because of love – Gulzar draws out all kinds of specific images and ideas that feel extremely effortless. There are no complex metaphors at work, nothing that’s tired and overused, and it all comes together so neatly.
‘Bekaraan’, 7 Khoon Maaf (2011)
There are some lovely moments in this romantic paean. There’s the part where Gulzar writes, ‘please see beneath your feet if something’s stuck … it’s just time, please ask it to move along’.
But then written from the perspective of an abusive husband, the line “Kya laga honth tale, jaise koi chot chale” (‘What’s that under your lips, looks like a bruise’), gives the song a sinister edge.
‘Heer’, Jab Tak Hai Jaan (2012)
Yet another song about pining, but how to keep it fresh? Gulzar brilliantly blends two tragic romances: Heer-Ranjha and Mirza-Sahiban. He writes, ‘don’t call me Heer’ (who doesn’t get to build a home with her lover Ranjha, as she is married off, and both die before they can be united), ‘for I’ve become Sahibaan, and Mirza will bring a horse and take me away soon’. (Mirza escaped with Sahibaan on his horse the night right before her wedding ceremony).
‘Khul Kabhi Toh’, Haider (2014)
Like ‘Bekaraan’, again an intense love song written from the perspective of a guy who is not quite there in his head.
Beautiful lines like “saans–saans sek doon tujhe” (‘breath by breath, I will heat you up’), lead up to violent imagery: ‘when I was kissing your earrings, a gulmohar tree kept dancing’ … ‘in the heat, I felt ‘why don’t I throw you into the fire of the burning gulmohar’’.
‘Kill Dil’, Kill Dil (2014)
There are fantastic images and metaphors all throughout this song, which tells the story of two daredevil gunslingers. Gulzar himself recites their introduction: ‘Here come two bastard sons of darkness, walking down a coal-black road … they were raised drinking blood … they neither have skies overheard nor ground underneath … perhaps their life was crushed, this is their story’.
‘Patli Gali’, Talvar (2015)
A fun sardonic take on how torturous the legal system is for the common citizen, ‘Patli Gali’ is filled with delightful lines. For example, in the “patli gali” (narrow lane), Gulzar writes, ‘bald men sell combs, while lawmakers sell the ropes twisted round their [the people’s] necks’.
‘Aave Re Hichki’, Mirzya (2016)
Gulzar ties up the folk myth of hiccups occuring when one is remembered by their beloved with the widely held belief of their occuring due to a dry throat. But going past this conceit, Gulzar yet again evocatively describes the sorrow of longing, drawing in elements of the geography of the story, as he did with ‘Phirse Aaiyo Badra Bidesi’.
Devarsi Ghosh loves to write on films, books and music when he is not working on his screenplays.
August 18 is Gulzar’s birthday.
(This story was first published in The Wire)
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