Chitrangda Singh, who made her debut in Bollywood with Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi in 2005, went on to do other prominent films like Yeh Saali Zindagi, Desi Boyz, Saheb, Biwi Aur Gangster 3 and Baazaar. The actress also turned producer in 2018 with a sport-based biopic, Soorma, starring Diljit Dosanjh. Her choice of films have mostly been a tad different and often not fitting into the typical Bollywood leading lady mould.

The actress, who is evidently choosy about the parts she picks to play, tells us that there are certain women in cinema whose careers have always left her inspired and motivated. “Film personalities like Smitaji (Patil), Rekha ji or even Shabana ji (Azmi) have not only impressed us with their body of work in Bollywood which includes glamourous roles, but also set an example by achieving their goals in showbiz. Their passion and grace with which they made their way in the film industry has left me amazed. It is their love for the craft and the way they pursued their career that inspired me,” she says.

Talking about the choice of films of these supremely talented leading ladies, Chitrangda adds, “Their films like Mandi (1983) and Mirch Masala (1986) have inspired me and have been a reason for me to be a part of Bollywood. Also, how can we forget the performance of Rekha ji in Umrao Jaan (1981)? These women have truly been an inspiration.”

Set to follow their Broadway adaptation of Umrao Jaan with Disco Dancer, composer duo Salim-Sulaiman on transitioning from musicians to storytellers
Sonia Lulla (MID-DAY; March 9, 2020)

Seated at a spacious studio, Salim and Sulaiman Merchant are weaving for us a tale that is set to open for theatre-going audiences on March 27, through 29. The months that they have spent breathing life into the Broadway adaptation of Disco Dancer hasn't diminished their fever. It is palpable in the twinkle in their eyes as they discuss "adding a dramatic ma-beta angle", employing lavish LED sets to depict "Bombay of the '80s", and "lowering of two telephone booths for a scene."

As they discuss Saregama Carvaan's adaptation of Mithun Chakraborty's 1982 musical for the stage, which follows the composer duo's successful Umrao Jaan, it is evident that they've emerged from being musicians to story-tellers. "The hardest part about a musical is the casting," says Salim, adding, "In India, finding someone who can sing, dance, and act, is a big challenge. While people may excel in one or two [skills], it's tough to find those who are good at all three. And we need to find at least five of them." The journey to merely zeroing in on the lead actors took them seven months, reveals Sulaiman. "Our country is not geared [to creating] a sampoorna kalakar, or true performer. Our aim was to find a good singer. That's the toughest part, since all the singing is done live. We identified singers who are good-looking, and then sent them to acting class." The unit roped in to feature in the production is currently on a fitness programme designed to build endurance, and hence, enable them to sing appropriately, without struggling for breath in the midst of dancing stints.

Employing larger than life screens and abundant technology meets a two-fold purpose. Firstly, it enables them to transport viewers back to the '80s with visuals from the era. "Also, since the story demands that we create backdrops, like the inside of a police station, or [scenes from] Goa, we needed to avoid moving sets since we want this show to travel to Delhi, US and the UK."

A great story, and a promising soundtrack are the essential factors to consider when choosing a film for a theatrical adaptation. But as cinema does with reality, the duo also takes creative liberty when adapting a project for their platform. While they "introduced a conflict" in Umrao Jaan via the addition of a character, they've added comic relief to Disco Dancer by featuring a Goan friend of the protagonist, Jimmy. "We created a character called Anthony, who is Jimmy's childhood friend. The comic relief is important for people to enjoy it."

The duo has gone to great lengths to ensure Bappi Lahiri's compositions are retained "exactly the way they were" in the original film, even taking off to New York and Prague to record with instruments popular in the '80s, but no longer available in India. "Apart from his tracks, we have three original compositions. There's a beautiful love song to give [viewers] a break from all the disco [tracks]. The other a track made for a film. It's called Yaaron main toh star ban gaya, and depicts Jimmy's growth from a nobody to a superstar. It has Latin and Brazilian beats. The third is an instrumental number which comes at a crucial point. It's [along the lines of] an opera, but we're contemplating adding a song there as well."

Whether it was when creating four original songs for Umrao Jaan, or the three that they did for this offering, the duo is mindful of the music style of the original composer "so that a listener can't differentiate a fresh composition from the [original soundtrack]". "With Umrao Jaan, we tried to create songs befitting Khayyam saab's compositions. In Disco Dancer, we've retained every cheesy element that Bappi da used, and became popular."

Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; February 20, 2020)

In 1978, on a visit to Mumbai from Hyderabad, at a mehfil in Khar, singer Talat Aziz ran into music director Khayyam who complimented him on the purity of his voice and promised to record a song with him for a film if he got a chance. Talat saab did not hear from him till ’80-end when, one day, out of the blue, Khayyam saab called, saying he had a song for him and asked him to come over for rehearsals. “He was very particular about rehearsals. Even Lata ji (Mangeshkar) and Asha ji (Bhosle) had to drive down all the way from town, like me, to his apartment in the suburbs for 10-15 rehearsals before going in for recording. We would sit in his music room and Muzaffar Ali, the director, would be standing at the doorway, watching me go on and on. Sometimes his wife, Jagjit Kaur ji, would feel sorry for me and tell Khayyam saab to let me go, but he would argue that I could sing it better with practice,” Talat saab recounts.

Much later, the composer confided, that singer-actress Suraiya ji, who was among the guests at the mehfil, had been equally impressed by his voice and had urged Khayyam saab to give him a break only in a good film. “He’d retorted saying he only did good films,” Talat saab shares.

Talat Aziz made his debut as a playback singer in Umrao Jaan with the ghazal “Zindagi Jab Bhi” (left). The song was not there in the original script. But Khayyam saab pointed out to Muzaffar Ali that the Umrao had plenty of suitors and the only way the courtesan would be drawn to Farooq Shaikh’s character, Nawab Sultan, was if he wrote nazms. “The film didn’t do well commercially, so I was surprised when, after its release, I was inundated by requests for this particular song at mehfils abroad and learnt that people there had heard it on video cassettes. In some cassettes though it was snipped out because the film was too long,” Talat saab laughs.

The following year, they collaborated on the melodious “Phir Chhidi Raat Baat Phoolon Ki” (right) for Bazaar which was recorded at Bombay Lab. Talat saab recalls how nervous he was to be singing with the legendary Lata ji, and how, when he told her “darr lag raha hai”, she quickly put him at ease. After three takes, Khayyam saab’s voice boomed over the headphones, complimenting them and saying he was on the way to their booth. “Wait and watch, as soon as he comes in, he will say, ‘ek aur’, Lata ji told me, and that’s exactly how it happened. That ‘ek aur’ was Khayyam saab’s ‘safety’ take,” he informs.

Quiz Talat saab on the man himself, and the singer describes his mentor to be “frugal” in every sense. He visited Khayyam saab at home every Friday after prayers as the mosque was next door. The composer waited to have lunch with him. “It was a simple meal of tomato soup, dal, doodhi or turai ki bhaaji and a chapati for him, and overriding my objections, he’d insist his cook Nirmala make chicken for me. After the meal, brushing away my reluctance, he’d insist I eat an apple, at least a slice, as it was a healthy dessert,” he flashbacks.

After that, they’d chat for hours. Sometimes Khayyam saab would recite verses— “he knew Sahir Ludhianvi’s book of poetry, Talkhiyan, by heart”—and sometimes he’d narrate stories, like how he landed the 1958 film, Phir Subah Hogi (left), which was a turning point in his career. “Khayyam saab had gone to RK Studio and played different tunes for Ramesh Saigal (the film’s producer-director), and Raj Kapoor, its hero, with his team of musicians for almost an hour. Raj saab had listened without expression, then gone into the room next door. Thinking he’d been rejected, Khayyam saab was packing up to leave, when Raj saab returned after around 30 minutes, and asked him to play some tunes again. He ended up getting the film which was a big deal then for a newbie composer as it was unthinkable for RK to do a film without Shankar-Jaikishen,” says Talat saab.

The memories continue... How one day, after Kamaal Amrohi’s Mercedes had dropped him off at home close to midnight, Khayyam saab had come upon Sahir Ludhianvi taking a nightly stroll. The lyricist told him he was doing a film with Yash Chopra. Soon after, Jaya Bachchan turned up at his door, wondering if he had the Razia Sultan song, “Dil-e-Nadaan Tujhe Hua Kya Hai” which had become a craze, on a cassette. “Amit ji wants to hear it,” she told him. He didn’t, but the next day, when he told Kamaal saab this, the filmmaker had it recorded on a cassette and rushed to Bachchan’s office. “On Amit ji’s recommendation, Khayyam saab landed Kabhi Kabhie (right),” narrates Talat saab. The film remains unforgettable for Sahir and Khayyam’s evergreen “Neela Aasmaan”, “Main Pal Do Pal Ka Shayar Hoon” and of course, the title track, “Kabhi Kabhie Mere Dil Mein Khayal Aata Hai.”

Khayyam saab has given the music for many love stories, but the one Talat saab loves best is his own. He remembers how, after his mentor collapsed in his flat last year, on July 28, nattily dressed in jacket and trousers, his trademark topi on his head, they rushed Khayyam saab to the hospital, where, soon after, his wife, was admitted too. “Three days before he died, I wheeled Jagjit Kaur ji into the ICU where he lay, eyes closed. She took his hand and whispered, ‘Dekho saab, main aa gayi hoon. Kholo aankhen, mujhe chhod ke mat jao. I love you.’ I could see something flutter beneath his eyelids as if he was trying to come out of the coma. But this time even love failed,” he sighs.

Mohammed Zahur Khayyam Hashmi passed away on the night of August 19. The next morning when Talat saab gave the news to Lata ji she sighed, “He was the last of the Titans. With him an era has ended.”

Filmmaker Muzaffar Ali worked with Khayyam on films like Umrao Jaan and Anjuman
As told to Rachana Dubey (BOMBAY TIMES; August 21, 2019)

Khayyam saab’s music is larger than life and his demise has created a vacuum that can only be filled by his greatness and creativity, which he has left behind as a legacy in abundance. Khayyam saab and I worked together on three projects. Umrao Jaan was a long, intense journey. We went through the throes of creating the characters and the lyrics because that film was poetry. Ek ek lamha was musically and poetically crafted. The time we invested in composing the songs is not something that often happens. Two years is a long time; we took long gaps between creating our songs so that each one sounds distinct and has the right mix of emotions.

Khayyam saab's process was long drawn out. Khayyam saab and I shared that beautiful journey called Umrao Jaan. It was a creative part of our lives that we shared with people at large, and no one can ever get it out of their mind. Creating that kind of music needs people who are rare to find like Khayyam saab. He was always ahead of his time and had the patience to nurture tunes.

The film Anjuman was a naayab project where I could make him sing. He sang a ghazal by Faiz Ahmad Faiz. Shabana Azmi sang her own songs, too, for that film. It was a dilchasp raasta where we explored the new and revolutionary phase of Lucknow, ek bilkul naye tareeqe se. It was an intense and interesting journey.

The third film we worked together for was titled Zooni, which was set in Kashmir. It was a dream which remained unfulfilled, although I want it to be fulfilled some day. I have preserved the songs that Khayyam saab had created for it, and for the sake of those, I want that film to see the light of day. The songs he created for this film deserve to reach their final destination -- the hearts of the listeners.

Unka yun guzar jaana ek bahut bada haadsa hai. It's a loss to the fraternity, because with him, we have lost a generation and a school of music. Some of us are fortunate to have worked with him and a lot of us are fortunate to have grown up on the songs he created.

Talat Aziz bids farewell to his mentor and father figure
As told to Upala KBR (MID-DAY; August 21, 2019)

I first met him during my performance at a private mehfil in Khar, in 1978. After my performance, Khayyam saab walked up to me and told me, ‘Beta, I like your voice. One day, I will give you a break.’ When Umrao Jaan (1981) was conceived, there was no male song in the original script. So, Khayyam saab told Muzaffar Ali [director] saab, 'I want you to include a male song so that it can lend a poetic vibe to Farooq Sheikh’s character and Umrao Jaan can fall in love with him.' That’s how the song, Zindagi Jab Bhi Teri Bazm Mein, was created, and I came into the picture. I remember going to his house for 15 days for rehearsals before we recorded the song.

Khayyam saab was a father figure to me. I used to meet him at his home every three-four days, and if I couldn’t make it, he would invariably check on me and ask me where I was. I learned the art of perfection from him. He made me record the ghazal, Nagma-e-Jaan Saaz-e-Dil, [Yatra, 2007] 20 times before he was satisfied.

He once narrated to me that when he was recording the song Hazar Raahein [Thodisi Bewafai, 1980] with Kishore Kumar, Kishore da wanted to sing the song without interludes while Khayyam saab wanted it with interludes. He let Kishore da sing it his way, but the singer was not happy with the result. That’s when Khayyam saab told him, ‘I put those interludes because the story is about an estranged couple. The director can show flashbacks of what happened in their relationship in those music pieces.’ This was the kind of detailing that Khayyam saab practised.

I was by his side all through his illness. I took care of him over the last 21 days in the hospital. I was praying by his bedside when he breathed his last.


Khayyam was accorded State Honours. Pics/ Sameer Markande, Yogen Shah

Legendary music composer Khayyam, 93, who passed away on August 19, spoke to us last year about his musical journey, movies that were special to him, and why it is important to embrace change in music with times
Soumya Vajpayee (BOMBAY TIMES; August 21, 2019)

A musical era has come to an end with the legendary Mohammed Zahur Khayyam Hashmi’s demise on the night of August 19. The Padma Bhushan recipient was synonymous with classical music, rich in melody and poetry. His legacy has ensured him a place amongst the immortals. Songs such as Kabhi Kabhi Mere Dil Mein and Main Pal Do Pal Ka Shayar Hoon (Kabhie Kabhie, 1976); Ankhon Mein Humne Aapke Sapne (Thodisi Bewafaii, 1980); Dil Cheez Kya Hai and Zindagi Jab Bhi (Umrao Jaan, 1981); Phir Chhidi Raat and Karoge Yaad Toh (Bazaar, 1982); and Ae Dil-e-Naadaan (Razia Sultan, 1983) are some of his haunting melodies.

In an interview with us last year, the celebrated music composer expressed satisfaction with the way his life and career panned out over the years. “By the grace of God, I’ve had a great journey in the Hindi film industry,” he had said, adding, “There were many hardships on the way, but God and my love for music kept me going. I fulfilled my responsibilities to the best of my ability. I’m happy that I made some tunes that people love and admire even today.”

Khayyam always spoke about his love for Umrao Jaan and considered it his favourite work. “I remember when I was supposed to start work on the music of Umrao Jaan (1981). The songs of Pakeezah (1972) were a rage. I was tensed as it was difficult to come up with something as spectacular and to make a mark.”

“I had to do a lot of research about the history of Awadh before composing the songs of Umrao Jaan. I wanted the tracks to have the right essence. It’s because of those challenges that Umrao Jaan is closest to my heart,” Khayyam had said.

While Khayyam was always vocal about the fact that his favourite soundtrack was Umrao Jaan, he held Razia Sultan close to his heart, too. “The film’s script and how the songs were penned made it immortal, especially the track, Ae Dil-e-Nadaan, sung beautifully by Lata Mangeshkar. It is very special to me. Another film that’s close to my heart is Phir Subah Hogi (1958); it was my first collaboration with Raj Kapoor saab,” said the National Award winner.

Synonymous with classic music, high on melody and poetry, Khayyam, however, had no qualms in embracing the changes in music with times. He said, “Music in films today has a lot of western influence, which I don’t enjoy personally, but there’s nothing wrong in that. That’s the kind of music that the younger generation enjoys. It’s the demand of the changing times. See, change is the only constant, and you should know how to go with the flow. The kind of music that’s made for a film completely depends on the subject of a project. Musicians of our time — my seniors and contemporaries — were privileged and lucky to get amazing subjects to work on as our music, poetry and melodies were all dependent on the stories.”

The Padma Bhushan recipient was a fan of the Academy Award-winning composer A R Rahman. “He does some amazing work. His song, Dil Hai Chota Sa Choti Si Asha (Roja, 1992) is incredible. I listen to it over and over again,” he said.

The last few films he composed music for were Yatra (2007), Bazaar E Husn (2014) and the unreleased Ghulam Bandhu.


MEMORIES IN MUSIC: KHAYYAM’S EVERGREEN SONGS

Khayyam, who passed away on Monday after a prolonged illness at the age of 92, created evocative, soul-stirring music reminiscent of the era gone-by in classics such as Umrao Jaan and Kabhi Kabhie. Songs such as Woh Subah Kabhi To Aayegi, Kabhi Kabhie Mere Dil Mein, Dil Cheez Kya Hai, Aaja Re O Mere Dilbar and In Aankhon Ki Masti Ke will keep Khayyam’s memory alive for generations to come

Kabhi Kabhie Mere Dil Mein: KABHI KABHIE (1976)


Woh Subah Kabhi To Aayegi: PHIR SUBAH HOGI (1958)


Main Pal Do Pal Ka Shayar: KABHI KABHIE (1976)


Dil Cheez Kya Hai: UMRAO JAAN (1981)


Aaja Re O Mere Dilbar: NOORIE (1979)


Ae Dil-e-Nadan: RAZIA SULTAN (1983)

Karoge Yaad To Har Baat: BAZAAR (1982)

Khayyam with wife Jagjit Kaur at an event in 2017

Veteran composer Khayyam breathed his last in a Mumbai hospital around 9.30 pm on Monday
Khalid Mohamed (MUMBAI MIRROR; August 20, 2019)

He always had a furrowed brow, as if he was waiting to reach an errant melody he couldn’t quite perfect. When he did, his face would soften, he would dart a rare smile and get on to the next one, which perhaps would be recorded or stay with him.

There are scores of songs which did not reach us, and perhaps never will. His repertoire of unheard compositions have departed with Mohammed Zahoor Khayyam, who passed away on Monday night. The departure, I could see was coming, at the suburban hospital where he struggled to open his eyes at least for a flicker of a moment during a month-long stay at the Tulip cabin of the ICU unit. Yeh kya jageh hai doston, Hindi cinema could have well asked, but then I’m getting maudlin here.

The end is endemic as the last stanzas of the songs Khayyam saab had created, without ever caring for the A-listers of the geetmalas from the 1950s on to the turn of another century. To be sure, because of our limited memories, the 92-year-old icon—never called one during his lifetime will be associated most of all with the ever-resonating soundtrack of Umrao Jaan.

If he was bitter to a degree, I suspect, about the Umrao experience it was because he had topped it with the songs composed for its director Muzaffar Ali’s Kashmir-set love story Zooni. The film was left incomplete, but its songs are somewhere out there on tapes mouldering in the vaults somewhere.

Khayyam was not prolific by choice. If Yash Chopra called upon him to do Noorie, Nakhuda, Trishul and Kabhi Kabhie, it was obviously because the chartbusting music directors couldn’t have touched the composer who insisted on doing it his own way and wouldn’t be subjected to prolonged sessions at ‘sitting rooms’ as they are called. The Kabhi Kabhie score especially had that extraordinary poetic quality.

When Khayyam was no longer in the Yash Chopra ‘camp’ so to speak, he kept silent. In show business, one has to move on. When I had asked him to comment on this, he had shushed me up instaneously with a have-you-come-to-talk-about-my-work-or-gossip?

His music had the USP of pauses (check out Ae-Dil-e-Naadan from Razia Sultan). The orchestra comes to a standstill, when Lata Mangeshkar’s voice returns, it’s pure magic. Incidentally, stalwart writer Javed Siddiqui points that it was Khayaam who made the completion of Pakeezah possible. “Do you know he and his wife (Jagjit Kaur) kept trying to make peace between Kamal Amrohi and Meena Kumari. And they succeeded. The film was restarted only because of them.”

Right from Footpath and Phir Subah Hogi to Shagoon and Aakhri Khat, Khayyam’s track record is classic. He would agree to a TV serial occasionally but had stopped accepting film projects which would make him compromise with his signature style – soft, gentle, romantic and from the heart.

Khayyam saab has left the ICU unit. He can never leave us, ever, because without him will never be another subah, another song of such love and longing.

Avijit Ghosh (THE TIMES OF INDIA; August 20, 2019)

1927—2019

1976 was no time for tender melody. The Emergency was on. Rajesh Khanna’s era of romance was gone. Fists had replaced dialogues in Bombay cinema. And songs were no longer what they used to be. Hardly the moment for a music director nearing 50 to make a comeback.

But Khayyam, who passed away on Monday at the age of 92 following a cardiac arrest in a Mumbai hospital, grabbed the opportunity that Yash Chopra’s ‘Kabhi Kabhie’ brought to his sluggish career.

The inter-generational love story required two different styles of compositions. Khayyam excelled in both. For the first, he produced two minimalist masterpieces of melody which enhanced Sahir’s reflective poetry. The title track, ‘Kabhi kabhi mere dil mein khayal aata hai’ became the topper in Binaca Geet Mala’s annual countdown show. ‘Main pal do pal ka shayar hoon’ became an anthem for any self-effacing versifier.

In times when action movies ruled the roost, Khayyam’s music was a figurative triumph of violins amidst violence. For the younger generation, he produced loopy tunes – Tere chehre se and Tera phoolon jaisa rang – sending a loud message to producers that the 1940’s composer could better the sound of the 1970s.

For the next 10 years, Khayyam was at the peak of his creative powers and in his commercial prime. Umrao Jaan, Noorie, Thodi Se Bewafaai and Bazaar became synonymous with melodies that drew you closer to the radio.

A perfectionist, he scored for only 54 released films in a career spanning over five decades. Some of his compositions were so delicate they did not fit into the mould of film music – Kahin ek masoom nazuk si ladki (Shankar Hussain), Aaje re dilbar aaja (Noorie), Tumhari palkon ke chilmanon mein (Nakhuda), Baharon mera jeevan bhi sawaaron (Aakhri Khat). At the same time, he could throw up surprises with simple, swinging tunes of adolescent enthusiasm - Gapuchi gapuchi gam gam (Trishul), Mausam mausam lovely mausam (Thodi Si Bewafai) and Aaj se college band hai (Khandan).

Under him, an assortment of singers thrived. Bhupinder sang his first solo for him in Aakhri Khat (Rut Jawan). His wife Jagjit Kaur sang in films like Shagoon and Bazaar. This year, Khayyam had donated Rs 5 lakh to the families of soldiers killed in the Pulwama blast.

Born Muhommad Zahoor Khayyam Hashmi in Rahon, a little town near Jalandhar, Khayyam wanted to be a singer-actor in films. To boost his chances, he learnt music from the masters, Pandit Amarnath and Husanlal-Bhagatram, and assisted composer GA Chisti. He also joined the Indian Army during World War II.

He made his debut as a music director with Heer Ranjha (1948). His first hit was Akele mein woh ghabrate to honge (Beewee, 1950). He assumed the name, Sharmaji, for these early films.

Khayyam found his musical métier with Footpath (1953). The film had one of the finest ghazals composed in Hindi cinema: Sham-e-gham ki kasam (singer: Talat Mehmood). The composer used a piano, a guitar and a solo vox, a basic form of synthesizer, and yet it sounded totally traditional. The song, Khayyam told this reporter once, was put together from several recordings.

He earned more critical acclaim with Ramesh Saigal’s Phir Subah Hogi. The film based on Dostoevsky’s Crime And Punishment had some of the finest lyrics written by Sahir Ludhianvi: Woh subah kabhi to aayegi and Chino-Arab hamara. “After listening to the compositions, Asha Bhonsle told me, ‘Khayyam saab aapki to subah ho gayee’. Mukesh immediately told her, ‘You have said the right thing’," the music director once told this reporter.

Khayyam is gone. But his melodies of matchless tenderness will always be heard and remembered.

Visiting veteran composer Khayyam and his singer-wife Jagjit Kaur, who have been inseparable from 1954 to today, in a suburban hospital’s ICU unit
Khalid Mohamed (MUMBAI MIRROR; August 14, 2019)

Inseparable ever since their romance and marriage circa 1954, music composer Khayyam and his songstress-wife Jagjit Kaur, are now in adjoining cabins, named Lily and Tulip, of a Juhu hospital’s ICU unit.

Padma Bhushan recipient Khayyam was admitted to the hospital following a fall while getting up from his armchair at home 28 days ago. Pneumonia and a lung infection were diagnosed. Four days later, his wife who had gone silent with anguish, registered an alarming drop in her blood sugar count.

When I visited them yesterday, Khayyam, in a semi-conscious state, was being treated by a physio-therapist. The revered composer clutched my hand, nodded slightly but couldn’t open his eyes or speak. Jagjit Kaur asked to be wheelchaired to see her ‘saab’ and held on to his hands till the attendants assured her that he would be “okay, not to worry.”

Brightening up, she secured a nurse’s permission before chatting in staccato sentences: *“How couldn’t I fall in love with saab after hearing his song ‘Sham-e-Gham Ki Kasam’?”

*“Raj Kapoor wanted someone who had read Crime and Punishment to do the songs of Phir Subah Hogi. Saab had read the book (by Fyodor Dostoevsky).”

*“Do you know I even sang for Umrao Jaan? What was the song called? Yes, yes… ‘Kaahe Ko Bihayee Bides’.”

*“Saab could get angry, upset with the producers… never with his singers... especially with Lata, Rafi, Talat… Asha.”

*“After marriage… I was happy being his support…would sing for him whenever he wanted me to.”

*“Waqt ke saath music ka trend changed, saab kept refusing offers. Aaj kal ke music directors are doing good work. But nothing can touch old music which was really paidar (durable).”

The durability of their love story has been one-of-a-kind, too, affirmed by the memorabilia at their seventh-floor home in Dakshina Apartments, overlooking the traffic-clogged Juhu circle. Practically every photograph on the living room’s walls and on the mantelpiece show them together, at music soirees and award functions.

A large laminated photograph of their son, actor Pradeep Khayyam, serves as a grim reminder of his premature death seven years ago following a heart seizure.

Jagjit Kaur’s Chandigarh-based niece, Rinnkie Gill, who has been in the city ever since they were hospitalised, points out that the household helps, Nirmala and Shashi, have been tending to them for over three decades. The couple was self-sufficient, inevitably slowed down by ailments which come with advanced age. He’s 92, she’s 88.

Adds Gill, “They have always enjoyed being together at home and have rarely ever travelled out of the city except perhaps to Delhi and the north. Going abroad didn’t interest them at all. Music has been their life. And one more thing —she relishes the masala chai which Khayyam saab brews personally. That’s the way he has always reached out to her heart, with a chai ki pyaali.”

Born Mohammed Zahoor Khayyam Hashmi in the Jalandhar district of Punjab, the music maestro had first used the pseudonym, Sharmaji, dispensing with it for his first full-fledged assignment, Footpath (1953), litterateur Zia Sarhadi’s slice-of-life film featuring Dilip Kumar and Meena Kumari. The soundtrack included the “Sham-e-Gham Ki Kasam” ballad written by Majrooh Sultanpuri and sung by Talat Mehmood.

Around then, Jagjit Kaur, born to an aristocratic family of Punjab, was aspiring to become a film playback singer. One evening, Khayyam followed her on the overbridge of the Dadar railway station. She felt he was stalking her and was about to raise an alarm when he summoned up the nerve to introduce himself as a music composer. Despite her father’s objections, theirs was one of the film industry’s first inter-communal marriages.

The image of the composer and his muse stays with me hours after Eid ul-Adha day—Khayyam-Jagjit Kaur just a breath away from each other in the Lily and Tulip cabins.

The muse has been informed that she would be discharged from hospital by early evening. To that she had smiled, “Really? After so many days?” On second thoughts, her face had fallen, as she said almost to herself, “But what will he do without me—alone?”

Sandra Fernandes (BOMBAY TIMES; June 9, 2018)

She has sung some of the most popular songs in the Hindi film industry in her career spanning nearly six decades, yet, when you talk to Asha Bhosle, there is a simplicity and an air of humility that you feel. In a candid chat, the legendary songstress talks about how music directors today sound confused, performing on stage and more...

What are your thoughts on the kind of music and songs that the Hindi film industry is churning out today?
The music today is all about what the film demands. In fact, a lot of the time, it depends on the hero of the film. The hero dances, chooses his songs and even sings wonderfully most of the time, that’s how music is made these days.

What sort of changes have you seen in the music industry over the past few years?
I’ve seen so many changes. To start with, the lyrics of the songs are not good. Films these days demand dhamaka in their songs, halla hona chahiye. So, the lyrics are written according to the demand and the music is produced in a similar fashion. I feel that music directors these days are confused about what they should give their audiences. I miss the songs from the earlier years and miss the music directors from that era. They were knowledgeable about music and were extremely good and confident at their job.

Singers today know how to sing, dance and have great stage presence too. Your thoughts…
Yes, they perform on stage, they dance and sing as well, but I don’t understand that. While singing you can dance a little, but you can’t jump around on the stage and sing at the same time. Then you have to play the song and lip-sync to it. A lot of people do it. No matter how well they sing and perform, a singer shouldn’t cheat the audience, because people come to watch you sing. People will come to watch me on stage, how I look and sing when I perform.

One actress you enjoyed lending your voice to?
I loved singing all my songs. People gave me good songs to sing and I enjoyed them all (laughs). I enjoyed singing for Umrao Jaan.

You’ve sung all kinds of songs — right from romantic, dance and peppy numbers. If you had to choose one song from today, which one would that be?
I don’t know. I’m not aware of any recent songs.

You are well known for your cooking skills. What do you enjoy cooking the most?
I love to cook. Raj Kapoor’s family is very fond of food. They used to tell me, ‘Aap khana itna accha banate ho, aap gaana chod do’. I make maa ki dal and different varieties of biryanis. I feel happy when people enjoy my food. Many of them are no more, like Rajesh Khanna and some members of the Kapoor family. Dev (Anand) saab never ate much, but he enjoyed the food I cooked. Many directors used to enjoy the food, maine har ek ke begum se jaakar khana banana seekha hai.

You are on social media. What prompted you to take the plunge?
There is one person behind every artiste. My son, Anand Bhosle, is that person for me. He told me that I should write a cook book but I refused, as I thought that no one reads a cook book. Then we opened several restaurants in my name in the Middle East and London. He was the one who suggested that I get on Twitter. So, he handles everything and I sing.

What message would you like to give your fans?
Fans are fans, without them we are nothing. No artiste is complete without his/her fans. They have shown me so much love, I want to meet them and interact with them.

Mind-reading, translation and the ability to ‘feel the film’ are crucial skills for a cinematographer, says Ayananka Bose who is shooting Salman Khan’s next
Anand Holla (MUMBAI MIRROR; April 8, 2018)

Generic lounge music plays like a dull hymn at the Versova coffee shop where we are to meet cinematographer Ayananka Bose. The lensman saunters in, wearing a printed blue shirt thrown over a pair of denims, his hand clasping a cellphone fastened to a flickering power bank. Bose has just returned from Abu Dhabi, having blazed through a month-long shoot of the Salman Khan-led multi-starrer, Race 3. “We wrapped up the shoot, spanning Mumbai, Bangkok and Abu Dhabi, in just 72 days. Now, only five days of shoot remain (sic),” says Bose, also credited for big-ticket films such as Dostana, Kites, I Hate Luv Storys, Force, Student Of The Year, Kick, and Judwaa 2.

In a career spanning 12 years, the 38-year-old has acquired a reputation in the industry for being a particularly quick worker. Bose attributes his speed to his ability to see ‘fully-formed images’ in his head. “Since I can readily translate images, even as the director talks to me, I visualise it in my head. Fortunately for me, those images are usually in sync with what the director wants to convey. And then, I already know where I want my lights to be placed,” he explains.

Cinematography, says Bose, boils down to common sense. “It’s about how you solve the problem in the fastest way possible.” Apart from top DOPs (directors of photography) such as Janusz Kaminski, Emmanuel Lubezki, and Roger Deakins, Bose is heavily influenced by legendary American photographer Ansel Adams’ ‘zone system’ of capturing images, where one controls every level of light in the frame to one’s advantage. Borrowing from Adams’ mantra, Bose knows just “where to place the highlights and where to send the shadows”.

The guiding principle of Bose’s work though is to “mind-read the director and bring his vision to life”. How different is it then for him to shoot a period drama Umrao Jaan (2006) from the frenzied excesses of Race 3? Apparently, none at all. “The basic definition of a cinematographer is one who translates the images envisaged by the director. The moment you are good at that, it won’t matter what you are translating,” says Bose.

He describes the director-cinematographer equation with a simplistic yet apt analogy: “A good marriage is one where both husband and wife take care of each other. It’s exactly the same on a film set.” Clearly, Bose believes in the sanctity of this blessed union.

Not one to play Chess with his career choices, Bose reasons that his seemingly wide-ranging filmography is merely accidental. “I don’t go by scripts, I only go by dates,” he deadpans. “In fact, I have never read the script of any film I have done. More importantly, I have never refused any work. The only downside of forever saying ‘Yes’ is not getting enough time for family.”

Understandably then, crafting a cinematic legacy has never excited Bose. “I don’t harbour big ambitions. I don’t judge scripts, directors, or films. My struggle has partly shaped my attitude towards work. My question remains — who am I to judge?” When Bose was starting out, the struggle was intense. For most of the two years leading up to that life-changing day when he walked into J P Dutta’s office, he spent his days in near penury. “I was totally jobless. I couldn’t afford more than one meal a day. I could barely pay the Rs 3,000 rent for my one-room accommodation in Kandivali,” Bose says of the days when he frequented offices of producers, hoping to secure a meeting to pitch his skills.

His turning point came in 2005 when he met Dutta, who was looking for DOPs to shoot his magnum opus, Umrao Jaan. “As he listed the names he had in mind, I felt like an idiot. Then, he asked me just one question — ‘How will you shoot this film?’ I said, ‘I don’t know. I go to a set, the location speaks to me, and I place the camera based on the feel of what the director tells me’.” It was only months after Bose began shooting the film when he gathered the courage to ask Dutta why he was chosen for the job. “He said, ‘Every cinematographer told me how they want to shoot the film; you were the only one who said you want to feel the film’,” says Bose who never looked back.

His most memorable shooting anecdote, he shares, was requesting Amitabh Bachchan to be elevated while shooting the title track of Jhoom Barabar Jhoom in London’s Waterloo Station. The idea was “to enhance the background”. “Amitabh sir asked me — ‘Are you serious?’” says Bose, laughing. “He said, ‘This is the first time that somebody has asked me to stand on a stool; it’s always been the other way around’.”

Natasha Coutinho (MUMBAI MIRROR; March 20, 2018)

Rekha, who is up for a guest spot as a judge on the singing reality show, Rising Star, over the coming weekend along with regulars, actor-singer Diljit Dosanjh and singers Shankar Mahadevan and Monali Thakur, has a surprise up her sleeve. Ahead of her TV appearance, the actress has shot for a video that will feature her singing the memorable verses of her Umrao Jaan ditty, “Inn Aankhon Ki Masti”.

According to a source close to the development, she shot for the video on Monday. Besides the song, Rekha will also perform a special act with the contestants in the live episode.

“Music transcends all boundaries and I believe it sets you free. With Rising Star, the channel has given many of its contestants a platform to explore music and I am looking forward to seeing the budding talent in action,” says the diva.

Rekha had made a special appearance on the dance reality show, Super Dancer, in December last year.

Avinash Lohana (MUMBAI MIRROR; October 16, 2017)

Rishi Kapoor began filming Anubhav Sinha’s social thriller, Mulk, in Malihabad last week. Taapsee Pannu who plays his daughter-in-law joined Rishi on Sunday. Speaking from the UP town, Anubhav revealed that a day earlier Rishi had canned a confrontational scene in an erstwhile palace, where Shyam Benegal’s Junoon with Shashi Kapoor and Naseerudin Shah, Muzaffar Ali’s Umrao Jaan with Rekha and Anil Sharma’s Gadar with Sunny Deol, had been shot earlier.

“I had no idea. I had simply liked the place when I was on a recce there. It was the locals who recently told me about these iconic films being shot there. I must have been 12-13 when Shyam Babu was shooting Junoon there with Naseer bhai. This place houses the history of cinema,” exults Anubhav who flagged off the film on his son’s birthday. He’s all praise for the mango belt of North India and its gracious inhabitants. “The mango orchards spread over miles and the locals actually adhere to the Lucknavi tehzeeb of ‘pehle aap, pehle aap’. Recently I complained about the unit tea and within 15 minutes, 30 cups of tea came from someone’s home and served,” laughs Anubhav.

On Sunday, they were shooting at a local college, which they have converted into a government office. “Taapsee and Rishi ji have earlier worked in Chashme Baddoor and share a great rapport. Rishi ji is a chilled out person, doesn’t carry the aura of Rishi Kapoor and is very friendly with everyone. We are on a start-to-finish schedule and mid-November mein khatam karke hi lautunga main,” Anubhav signs off.

Roshmila Bhattacharya (MUMBAI MIRROR; September 7, 2017)