Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; January 25, 2018)

He’s played Kabir and Krishna, Mirza Ghalib, Kalidas and Chaintanya, but for me Bharat Bhushan will always be Baiju who after defeating Tansen in a musical duel, allows himself to be swept up in love. I saw Vijay Bhatt’s 1952 film, Baiju Bawra, as a teenager and though I know little about ragas, “Ghanana Ghanana Ghana Garjo Re” and “O Duniya Ke Rakhwale” still resonate.

“I remember my father coming home with tommes full of notations and raagas for a six-month research. He’d sit with Naushad saab through the night working on the music,” reminisces Bhatt’s son Pravin Bhatt who was in school then and would be packed off to bed early. Naushad had impressed with his compositions in Rattan, Anmol Ghadi, Shahjehan and Deedar, but many wondered if he’d pull off a light classical score and endear it to the masses. It bagged him a Filmfare Award for Best Music Director.

Pravin Bhatt informs that Dilip Kumar had been approached to play Baiju and Nargis for Gauri. He turned down the offer—a decision he later regretted—while she was away in Europe and unavailable. Vijay Bhatt then turned to another tragic hero, Bharat Bhushan, and Meena Kumari whom he’d launched as a seven-year-old in Leatherface.

No one is sure if Baiju existed. Pravin Bhatt recalls the legend of Bakshu (also called Manjhu and Bacchu), a musician in Bahadur Shah’s court who after the Sultan’s defeat, found a patron in emperor Humayun. Another legend revolves around musician Baijnath Mishra from the court of the Raja of Chanderi who could make flowers bloom, bring rain and light oil lamps with his voice. He turned insane after losing his family, and Tansen, another disciple of Swami Haridas, cajoled his own patron, Raja Ramachandra Baghela of Rewa, to organise a contest, hoping Baiju would come. He did, hypnotising a deer and melting a marble slab with his renditions. Maybe the filmi Baiju was an amalgamation of the two, but a real Baiju exists, Lata Mangeshkar’s nephew who owes his name to the character.

“In keeping with the Mangeshkar family tradition of a ‘Nath’ appendage, I was named Srinath soon after I was born, but my father (Hridaynath) was not happy and while looking for an alternative, decided on Baijnath, Baiju’s real name in the film,” smiles Baiju, a singer-composer in his own right.

He recalls seeing the film when he was seven, the first video cassette his aunt got from London. The elders would watch it every week, raving about Ustad Amir Khan saab’s “Sargam” and DV Paluskar and his “Aaj Gawat Man Mero Jhoomke”. Baiju enjoyed his father’s bhajan, “Sacho Tero Naam Ram” with Mohd. Rafi, and his “Ho Ji Ho” cries for child actor Master Rattan from the riverbank, bemused at how young his father sounded in these parts and how he’d matured as a singer later. “In my naivety, I believed the makers had waited for him to grow up, not knowing it was Rafi saab’s voice,” Baiju laughs, marveling over how village belle Gauri’s songs were folksy and simple, a contrast to the raag-based court songs with Ustad Amir Khan who later became his father’s guru giving voice to Tansen.

Pravin Bhatt, who grew up to be a well-known cinematographer, rhapsodises about the camera angles in “O Duniya Ke Rakhwale” and the musical montage which inspired a similar montage in Muzaffar Ali’s Umrao Jaan. “Bharat Bhushan played music teacher to Rekha’s Umrao and we chatted briefly during the shoot. Baiju Bawra’s cinematographer V N Reddy, who was my grand guru — I was assistant to his assistant, Bipin Gujjar — came for the first day of shoot of Himalaya Ki God Mein, a film I landed after much pleading as my father doubted my ability to handle a colour film, telling him to try with me for two days and if I didn’t measure up, he could replace me. Reddy saab was very encouraging, telling me to boldly do what I wanted, as long as my light meter gave a reading, I’d have a scene to print,” he chuckles at the memory.

Baiju flashbacks to his aunt Lata Mangeshkar telling him that in an era when a couple of rehearsals were a must before any recording, she’d had gone directly to the set and sung “Door Koi Gaye” for Naushad with Shamshad Begum. “The recording went off without a hitch and Naushad saab later insisted he wanted her to sing 'Tu Ganga Ki Mauj' too, though Vijay Bhatt had recorded it as a solo with Rafi saab. The male version of the song was retained in the film, but for the record, Naushad saab re-recorded the song and added Lataji’s voice. She was running a temperature that day, but it was only after she’d finished that, in reply to Naushad saab’s concerned query, admitted to being unwell and asked for permission to rush back home,” he narrates.

After the film released, Bharat Bhushan’s lawyer-father sneaked out to catch the film in a theatre, and back home apologized to his son for his aversion to his profession. “Had I not come in your way, you might have become an even greater artiste. I know how fond you have been of films since your childhood, I am happy you have been able to go ahead,” he said, and years of bitterness was washed away in that moment.

Baiju Bawra drowned but through his death Bharat Bhushan was reborn. He went on to play Tansen in Sangeet Samrat Tansen and Meera. He died only four decades later, on January 27.