Cont....
A.M. FARUQUI
MANNA DEY DURING a performance in Bhopal in October 2006. Two songs immortalised Manna Dey in Bombay in the short span of three years and, ironically, put him in the role of the commentator rather than the leading participant in the story in a number of Hindi films. The first, "Upar gagan vishal" (composer: S.D. Burman, lyrics: Pradip) for Nitin Bose's
Mashal in 1950 and, the second, "Chale radhe rani" (composer: Arun Kumar Mukherjee, lyrics: Bharat Vyas) for Bimal Roy's production of
Parinita. "Upar gagan vishal" is a soaring eagle of a composition that tests the mettle of any singer, calling for range, malleability of voice, gravity and sweetness, and a subtle understanding of the lyrics, which describe the creation of the universe poetically but not inaccurately. If one single song brought lasting glory to a lyricist, it was this one. "Chale radhe rani", on the other hand, is a poignant Vaishnav
kirtan-like composition sung by a wandering old mendicant to project the dilemmas of the heroine, Lalita, an orphan. For one so young, Manna Dey in both these songs revealed an astonishing maturity in understanding the nature of the fundamental ideas and emotions that govern everyday life. But it was this very quality that prevented him from regularly singing romantic numbers for living stars such as Dev Anand, Dilip Kumar, Ashok Kumar, Bharat Bhushan and Raj Kapoor. He was always considered the perfect voice for a
buzurg, or an elder, but not a young dashing romantic hero. It was Shankar of the Shankar-Jaikishan duo who saw in Manna Dey an exceptional singer of romantic songs as well. In Raj Kapoor's
Awaara (1951), Shankar got him to render with Lata Mangeshkar the memorable duet "Tere bina aag yeh chandni". After that, he sang in all of Raj Kapoor's home productions but played a curious role to aid the actor-director's schizophrenic screen persona. Manna was always at hand to render exquisite duets with Lata Mangeshkar and bolster the actor's great lover image. However, it was Mukesh who almost always sang those songs of have-nots that bolstered Kapoor's socialist image and helped him earn millions from the erstwhile Soviet Union. The songs from his films were immensely popular there, not in the least "Aawara hun" (singer: Mukesh) and the duet "Pyaar hua iqrar hua" (Lata Mangeshkar and Manna Dey), because they were based on Byloru ssian folk melodies. Shankar-Jaikishan's best songs were raga-based and had both lilt and sonority. For a period of 10 years, from 1951 to 1961, they had an ecstatic run of success in the golden age of Hindi film music, and Manna Dey, in no small measure, contributed to it. Listening to him render Shankar-Jaikishan's compositions in
Basant Bahar (1956), one understands why. Songs like "Sur na saje", "Nain mile chaen kahan" with Lata Mangeshkar, "Bhaya bhanjana" and "Ketaki ghulab" with Bhimsen Joshi have become evergreen as much for their singers as for their composers. But how much credit must the composer get for these raga
pradhan offerings? After all, it is the singers who are classically trained and have sculpted out the contours of these melodies in the act of singing. The composers, at best, offered a clear sketch of what was to be recorded. This interpretation gains credence when Manna Dey says that S.D. Burman only gave him "a brief" for the composition in Aheer Bhairav in the film
Meri Soorat Teri Ankhen (1963) and it was he who worked at it until it became "
Poocho na kaise maine raen bitayi", a truly memorable composition. The story does not look like a settling of scores between two highly creative people who, despite their best intentions, could not really become friends. Manna Babu is full of admiration for colleagues such as Mohammad Rafi and Lata Mangeshkar, but it is Asha Bhonsle he singles out for praise: "In her voice modulation, she excels even her elder sister Lata Mangeshkar". Of Mohammad Rafi, he says, "Rafi's renditions were like an early spring morning with its varied hues and shades and appealed to me immensely."
He is not so kind to Talat Mehmood and Mukesh. He feels Talat's leaving the film industry was a mystery and that he perhaps lacked perseverance. The truth is that although Talat was a pioneer of ghazals and geets in films, his kind of music was sidelined by the early 1960s. His Urdu diction was impeccable and his silken, soft voice was more suited to the gentle melodies of another era.
Edited by *dolly* - 18 years ago