Where are all the lyrics gone?

Film lyricists who have done pop include Majrooh (Jaanam Samjha Karo), Gulzar (Marasim, Bunder Bindaas Bunder), Javed Akhtar (Breathless, Tum Yaad Aaye), Nida Fazli (Koi Akela Kahan), Sameer and Anand Bakshi, who has recently released the very disappointing album with Prem.

Music directors Shantanu Moitra, Vaishnav Devaa, Raju Singh, Leslie Lewis, Shandesh Shandilya are among those who have joined films. Pop singers who have entered film singing include Mehnaz, Anaida, Shiamak Davar, Shaan, Sagarika, Alisha Chinai, Ila Arun and many others. So why not lyricists?

Much has been said of late about the lack of great songs and lyric-writers today. But while Sameer, Javed Akhtar and Dev Kohli write ad infinitum, there is a near absence of fresh thoughts going around. Obeisance to ‘hit’ (sic) musical metres, market forces and pecuniary interests have seen to it that good lyrics in any recent year can be counted on our fingers. Even the redoubtable Anand Bakshi is stumbling away of late, writing shockingly poor lyrics for films like Raju Chacha, Bulandi and even (in most of the songs) Mohabbatein.

The older writers did not need excuses to pen original (and devastatingly profound) concepts in routine romantic songs, comic numbers and even cabarets. Today, the excuse given is that there are no opportunities. Also, the new brigade lacks the self-respect and depth of the old-timers also because of their upbringing and insecurity. Ironically, while there is little to recommend among film song-writers (Faaiz Anwaar, Rahat Indori, Ibrahim Ashk and Israr Ansari have had their moments but seem to lack consistency, and Mehboob, the most promising of the younger lot, simply isn’t making headway), the pop field is showing flashes of genuine talent.

Yes, admittedly there is a vast amount of bilge coming in mainstream pop. But there are lyricists who are like bright beacons around. But though they would love to do Hindi films, they are scared - scared of losing their dignity, compromising their standards and being forced to pander to market forces in more than merely a professional sense. Like every artist who is confident of his or her own talent, they do not have the will to keep making endless pilgrimages of obsequiousness to music directors and music companies.

Take Prasoon Joshi, who doubles up as a top executive in the ad world. He is frankly apprehensive about the kind of stuff he will have to write if he steps into films. If his Ab Ke Sawan was very interesting, his poetry, simple yet suffused with simplicity and depth, was the backbone of the recent musical triumph, Mann Ke Manjeere.

Mumtaz Nikhat’s lyrics in Abhijeet’s Main Deewana Hoon, Rasiya and Hema Sardesai’s Hindustani Gudiya, and a few other enterprises sparkled with literary strength and elegance, even if it wasn’t pathbreakingly fresh. Veteran Nida Fazli prefers to write more for albums because, as he puts in, demeaning good language should be made a criminal offence. Prashant Vasl and Arun Pandey (Pyar Ke Geet, with Vasl also writing elsewhere) have also shown flashes.

In a milleu where the annual hit percentage of films has gone down to an abysmal 9%, we need to welcome fresh talent of the wholesome kind. These lyricists know their own worth, so do we, so the filmmakers and music companies, and composers who thrive on either an overworked geetkaar or a mere rhymester should welcome them (and there will be many others) into the fold and let their skills and individuality bloom and soar. Who knows, among them could be the messiah who delivers film lyrics from the dregs it has now reached. There was a time when composers, colossal though they themselves were, craved for good lyrics to help them achieve in that order, job satisfaction, mass approval, critical applause and an enduring career. Today, even a good lyricist is sadly dependent on the ‘hit’ tune that ‘carries’ his song to the audience so that he can get more opportunities to write more songs like them!
Where have all the lyrics gone?

Rajiv Vijayakar

Chip of the old block
Nishadh Harishchandra, son of playback singer Poornima, ranked first in Mumbai, in the eighth grade Digital Keyboard Diploma exam, conducted by the Trinity College of Music, London. He has trained under Glen and Maria Fernandes, and Charmaine Rodricks, from the Boss School of Music, in Mumbai. Nishadh has also been learning piano for four years now. He started learning tabla since the age of nine, and is presently learning classical music.