Titan of the golden era of film music
source : https://www.hindu.com
MEMORIES COME ALIVE — An Autobiography by Manna Dey: Sarbani Putatunda — Translation in English; Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11, Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi-110017. Rs. 450. I am reminded of an apocryphal story once narrated to me by a gemmologist. A layman once showed him his collection of pearls and wondered at what price he could sell it. The expert studied the pearls carefully and offered a fabulous price for just one particular pearl. The collector wanted to sell the lot or nothing. "I don't know if anyone ever realised the worth of that single pearl," sighed the highly disappointed gemmologist. Manna Dey often reminds me of that unique pearl as he held his own amongst the singing titans of the 1950s and the1960s, reckoned as the golden era of film music. Mohammed Rafi was the darling of the masses, dilettante Kishore Kumar could entice both music directors and listeners, and Mukesh with his occasional off key renditions had a permanent playback niche amongst some of the heroes. In an era when music was the raison d'tre for films, Manna Dey, with a far better understanding of classical music was extremely versatile. Few could emote on every turn and twist in the lyrics as Manna. Several of his songs were picturised on inconsequential protagonists like the classic "Kaun aaya mere" (on Anoop Kumar), fortunately in the melodious decades, popularity had more to do with the song than the hero.
Beginnings Born in 1919 as Probodh Chandra Dey (he later took on his pet name, Manna), to a musically inclined family, the singer grew up in Calcutta learning music from the legendary singer, his bachelor uncle, K.C. Dey. Alongside the usual Bengali preoccupations with football and wrestling, Manna retained singing as his first love. Though a few opportunities did open up within the Bengali film industry, he followed the great exodus (in 1942) to Bombay, the celluloid Mecca. The nascent industry then had ace music directors like Anil Biswas, Khemchand Prakash, Shyamsundar, S.D. Burman and C. Ramachandra, and Manna got to assist several of them inconspicuously. He wanted a firm grounding in Hindustani classical. He was taken by K.C. Dey to meet the maestro Ustad Aman Ali Khan. The old singer lost his temper and asked whether he was expected to teach every callow singer who stood before him. But the Ustad recanted, once he heard Manna sing and agreed to teach him. It was while teaching Rabindra Sangeet to a group of singers that Manna met the woman he was to marry, Sulochona. Their shared love for Rabindra Sangeet eclipsed all other regrets over the years, even the fact that his two daughters, though competent singers, never took to music seriously. Then and now, in his autobiography, Manna remains diplomatic in his assessment of his contemporaries.
Contemporaries Each hero then had his own favourite playback singer; Raj Kapoor often used Manna but the actor was so fastidious about his lip synch, that he felt he vibed better with Mukesh. But the one actor who made sure that it was always Manna who sang for him was the great comedian Mehmood. Initially Manna was reluctant to sing the unforgettable duet, "Ek chatur naar" (Padosan) with Kishore, for the eccentric genius with scant respect for classical idioms would render in his own style and come up with a winner. But each singer held his own and the song has gone into all-time-hit archives forever. Mehmood would be present for rehearsals; he wanted to see the singer's facial expressions, which he could reproduce along with his lip synch.
A third of the volume lists all the songs recorded by the thespian, in chronological order. It runs into several thousands, yet I am sure, in his sunset years and in his less charitable moments, Manna Dey must feel, as do we music lovers, surely when his best singing years coincided with the most mellifluous period in films — we could have had more of him.
Edited by *dolly* - 18 years ago