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Majrooh Sultanpuri

Beyond the chains

Majrooh Sultanpuri is like a vintage coin with two exquisite sides - toss it either way and you win. One face is that of the passionate shaayar - the man who ranks among the finest avant-garde Urdu poets of 20th century literature. This is the man who writes unforgettable poetry like Main akela hi chala tha jaanib-e-manzil magar, Log saath aate gaye aur kaaravaan bantaa gayaa. (I set out alone towards my goal, but others kept joining me on the way and my journey became a procession).

The flip side finds the longest-lasting lyricist of Hindi filmdom, a man who began with Naushad, went on to write scores which established music directors like O.P.Nayyar, Usha Khanna, Laxmikant Pyarelal, R.D.Burman, Rajesh Roshan, Anand-Milind and Jatin-Lalit as frontrunners, and worked with youngsters like Leslie Lezz Lewis and AR Rahman.

It is here that we find a harfan moula (all-rounder) whose all-pervading versatility encompasses a spectrum of verse from Paanch rupaiya barah aana (Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi) to Hum hain mataa-e-kuchaa-o-bazaar ki tarah (Dastak), with Waadiyan mera daaman, raaste meri baahen (Abhilasha), Chalo sajana jahan tak ghata chale, lagaakar mujhe gale (Mere Humdum Mere Dost) and Ruk jaana nahin tu kahin haar ke (Imtihan) in between.

Majrooh Sultanpuri’s unique genius has enabled him to sail in two theoretically divergent boats - poetry and film writing - with equal mastery. He won the prestigious Ghalib award in 1980 and the Iqbal Samman award from the Madhya Pradesh government in 1992 for his sterling contribution to Urdu literature.

For his work in films, his highest triumph was in becoming Indian filmdom’s first-ever writer to win the ultimate accolade - the Dadasaheb Phalke award. The ’90s have seen Majrooh complete an elegant 80 in age and enter his 55th year as a songwriter with five generations of composers, singers, filmmakers and stars.

The decade has been replete with success and distinctions for the prime poet as well as the great geetkaar of Hindi movies, and his latest triumph comes in the form of a book penned by two fans - a US-based Indian called Baidar Bakht and his American associate Marie-Anne Erki.

Both these Majrooh-admirers have compiled an exquisite compilation of his ghazal couplets as a book called Never Mind Your Chains. The title comes from Majrooh’s classic work, Dekh zindaan ke pare, rang-e-chaman josh-e-bahaar, Raks karnaa hai to phir paon ki zanjeer na dekh. (The garden blooms bright, just beyond the cage, Dance if you must, never mind your chains.)

In a way, this beautiful ghazal epitomises Majrooh’s career too - the poet’s indomitable never-say-die spirit survived amidst the many chains which always were around to shackle the genius of Asrar-ul-Hasan Khan, the name given to Majrooh by his parents when he was born in 1919 in Sultanpur, UP.

After education in Urdu, Persian and Arabic, Majrooh formally studied the Unani system of medicine, but the doctor practiced only for a year. And six decades ago, he took on the pen name of Majrooh Sultanpuri, became a shagird of Jigar Muradabadi and soon rose to be a towering success in mushaira circles.

During a visit to Mumbai in 1945 for a mushaira, the famous filmmaker A.R. Kardar invited him - and some others - to write lyrics for a situation in his planned magnum opus, Shah Jehan. Majrooh won the competition - and history was made when his first song was recorded, under the baton of Naushad and in the voice of K.L. Saigal, in February 1945.

The huge success of the film and its music made Majrooh stay on, even if years later he was to lament that he had compromised on his literary output, but he also felt that he could not be as prolific as he would have liked in his films because of his continual affair with shaayari. Hum na poori tarah shaayar ban sake na geetkaar he told me once.

Majrooh feels that no great art can be possible without social content and it is said that a visit to the Ajanta caves and their artistic brilliance revolutionised his approach to ghazal, which till then was orthodox.

In jail for his Leftist anti-Nehru writings in 1950-1, Majrooh wrote searing poetry like Shab-e-zulm nargah-e-raahjan se pukarta hai koi mujhe, Main faraaz-e-daar se dekh loon, kahin kaaravan-e-sahr na ho (Someone calls me in the night of tyranny from beyond the siege of the enemy, Let me see from the heights of the gallows, it may be the caravan of dawn and my sacrifice may not have been in vain.)

In films, the guiding light seemed to be music director Naushad, who told him that film songs had to be simple even when suffused with meaning, and that lyrics had to be written to fit the tune’s metre and phonetics, the situation and the character’s background and intellectual level.

For Majrooh these were even more ‘chains’, but his creativity learnt to dance despite them and reach the garden of enduring popularity beyond. He tuned excellently with Naushad, the two Burmans, Chitragupta, Roshan, O.P. Nayyar, Laxmikant Pyarelal, Rajesh Roshan, Anand-Milind and Jatin-Lalit. But somewhere his subconscious was keenly aware that he had sacrificed some of his art for self, at least attention-wise, and so in Dastak he seized the chance to write - for Rehana Sultan’s character of a fallen woman - the lines, Hum hain mataa-e-kuchaa-o-bazaar ki tarah, Uthti hai har nigaah kharidaar ki tarah (I am like goods for sale, they all look at me with appraising eyes of a prospective buyer.)

And yet few lyricists in Hindi films have offered the sort of goods Majrooh has. Like the other greats of Hindi cinema, and probably to a surpassingly greater extent, he has incorporated poetry even in the most mundane situations, the results exceptional whenever his commercial chains gave him creative leeway, as in Deewana mujhsa nahin is ambar ke neeche, Aage hai qaatil mera aur main peeche peeche or Waadiyan mera daaman, raaste meri baahen, Jao mere siwa tum kahan jaaoge or even Mujhe dard-e-dil ka pataa na tha, Mujhe aap kis liye mil gaye, Main akele yoon hi maze mein tha, Mujhe aap kis liye mil gaye.

But the brilliant poet in Majrooh had to face obstacles galore in his progress. His jail stint crippled his finances, played havoc with his family life and proved more than a bit damaging to his progress in both literary and film circles. “I was branded as a Leftist,” says the poet. “And they automatically began to shy away from me. Naushad-saab was a pious Muslim, and since Leftists were equated with disbelief in God, he stopped working with me despite a whopping hit like Andaz in 1949.”

The professional rift was to last for almost two decades - Naushad’s prime phase, which was dominated by the formidable Shakeel Badayuni. This is also the reason why Majrooh’s work in poetry did not get the endorsement it deserved on its literary merit. Majrooh always considered Mir Taqi Mir as the greatest master of the ghazal, but as Ali Sardar Jafri reveals, “As far as craft is concerned, Majrooh followed Ghalib”.

Majrooh’s first and only published work, Ghazal was published as late as in 1956 - 17 years after he began writing verse, though it has since run into several editions, one of which was named Mashaal-e-Jaan.

As always forthright even in his self-appraisal, Majrooh decided to exclude from it all the topical poetry he had written in the 1948-51 period (which saw him participate very vigorously in the Communist movement) as well as any work he considered below his dignity as an outstanding literary poet. “It was only after four decades when my body of work just could not be ignored that I was given the prestigious Ghalib award in 1980,” says the poet wryly.

As always prone to call a spade a spade, Majrooh was thus fully aware of his own strength and potential even while being a keen self-critic. Even as he did admit that he wrote in films because it meant “good money”, he never undervalued his tremendous work in that field and could not tolerate the condescending attitude many poets had towards lyricists without understanding the specialised art and skills needed to write in films.

When a noted poet-cum-public figure introduced Majrooh at a Delhi mushaira as the “famous lyricist from the film world of Bombay”, Majrooh drove his point home by addressing the man without his title, and requested him to listen to one of his filmi lyrics, unleashing the aforementioned work which has almost achieved the status of a proverb: “Main akela hi chala tha!”

The man apologised for his gaffe and Majrooh graciously accepted the apology! In fact, Majrooh is all too well aware that few lyricists have inculcated sheer poetry in so many typically filmi songs with such consistent commitment and excellence as he did. “It was only in rare cases,” reveals the bard, “that I was actually told to write as poetically as possible. Writer Krishan Chander and director Asit Sen wanted me to do so in Mamta, and so did V.Shantaram in the only film I worked with him on Jal Bin Machhli Nritya Bin Bijli.

Majrooh went on to pen songs like Rahe na rahe hum mehka karenge, Banke kali, banke sabaa, baagh-e-wafaa mein and Chhupa lo dil mein yoon pyar mera, Ke jaise mandir mein lau diye ki (Mamta) and Man ki baat mere man se nikli, Aise tadpoon ke jaise jal bin macchli and Baat hai ek boond si dil ke pyaale mein, Aate aate honthon tak toofan na ban jaaye for the latter film.

But Majrooh’s skills at vivid imagery were unrivalled in their sheer genius - his poetry needed no spur to transcend the various chains put on a popular lyric writer. In a 1975 Chennai potboiler, even while writing to an unusual RD metre, Majrooh was to create one of his finest ever mukhdas, whose true beauty and depth strikes home only after giving the lines focussed time and thought, O hansini, o hansini, kahan ud chali, mere armaano ke pankh lagaake, kahan ud chali (O my beautiful swan, whither have you flown far away from me, using my very desire as your wings?).

One of the prime reasons why Majrooh could afford to take a principled stand and resist succumbing to the sleazy wave in the early ’90s was his superb ability to weave the most vivid images of physicality and passion within the fabric of his poetry. “I have said it all in so many songs, without resorting to cheapness or blatant verse,” said the poet. And he is not exaggerating either, if you consider songs like Baahon mein chale aao (Anamika), or that classic Doosara Aadmi antara from the song Aao manaaye jashn-e-muhabbat which goes, Yeh aalam hai aisa, uda jaa rahaa hoon, tumhein leke baahon mein, Hamare labon se tumhare labon tak, nahin koi raahon mein, Kaise koi ab dil ko sambhaale, itne haseen paigham ke baad, Shaam se pehle kaun yeh soche kya hona hai shaam ke baad.

Majrooh, as the most enduring songwriter in the annals of Indian - and probably world - cinema, has written them all to perfection - ghazals, qawwalis, mujras, bhajans, folk-based ditties, sad and comic songs, children’s songs, cabarets and discos, romantic songs and every conceivable genre of film song. “That is why I felt that I deserved my Dadasaheb Phalke award more than anyone else,” he told me without the slightest trace of arrogance. “When I won it, there were dissident voices in my fraternity who felt that Pradeep deserved it more. Similarly Sahir got more recognition all along as a poet among us lyricists. But I sincerely feel that there is not only greater variety in my work but also more innovation.”

Comparing his body of work with any other lyricist, one has to admit that the Phalke award had no writer in Hindi films better qualified to receive it. In fact, in the ’50s, Majrooh’s association with films like Aar Paar, Dilli Ka Thug, Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi, Nau Do Gyarah, C.I.D., Paying Guest and Tumsa Nahin Dekha earned him the reputation of a crassly commercial lightweight lyricist amidst names like Sahir, Pradeep, Kaifi Azmi, Bharat Vyas and even Shailendra from those who did not understand that such versatility was the primary quality of a brilliant lyricist.

His enduring and fruitful association with Nasir Husain began because Sahir criticised Nasir’s commercial slant, causing an indignant Husain to drop the man saying, “Sahir wants every director to be another Guru Dutt!” And Majrooh’s comic lyrics were never tinged with the bitter satire and cynicism so typical of other Left-oriented writers.

He rose above his own opinions and views and thought solely of the character and the situations. Like all truly great creators in Hindi films, Majrooh approached every assignment honestly and impersonally - his job was to do the best for the character in the given situation.

His commercial work was neither a channel to air his own socio-political views, nor was it an avenue to show his expertise as a poet at the cost of credibility and the needs of the song. But it was decidedly his job to bring in as much of poetry and depth as possible if the film, its makers, the situation and the intellectual level of the characters permitted.

This, Majrooh did with exceptional brilliance in hundreds of his songs, like Ab kya misaal doon main tumhare shabab ki, Insaan ban gayi hai kiran mahtaab ki (Aarti) or Hui shaam unka khayal aa gayaa, Wohi zindagi ka sawaal aa gaya (Mere Humdum Mere Dost), even employing lesser-known words like pairhan, aib, hunar, rang-o-jamaal, sabaa and being responsible for bringing several Urdu words like jaanam, dilbar and mashallah into common usage.

Among Hindi words, he seemed to have a particular affinity for a few words like pyaare and the word diya (lamp or light) seemed to come in in its optimistic meaning in several lyrics of his, like Diye jalaaye pyar ke chalo issi khushi mein, Baras beeta ke aayi hai yeh shaam zindagi mein (Dharti Kahe Pukar Ke), Kya jaanoo sajan hoti hai kya gham ki shaam, Jal uthe sau diye jab liya tera naam (Baharon Ke Sapne) and Dil ka diya jalaake gayaa, yeh kaun meri tanhai mein (Akashdeep).

It’s Urdu counterpart, chirag also found its way into way into many of his songs and poetry. Majrooh’s film hits and creative triumphs are legion, as they cover a voluminous cavalcade of films from Shah Jehan in 1946 to Jaanam Samjha Karo, the album in 1998 and the film in 1999.

The range is awesome, the standards exacting even in the light verse, and the mission obvious - to grow beyond the chains and to write poetry that is like a perennial beacon for writers to come - Mere peeche yeh to mohaal hai ke zamana garm-e-safar na ho, Ke nahin mera koi naqsh-e-paon, jo chiraagh-e-raah-guzar na ho (It is unlikely that after me there will be no journeys: for I have not left a single footprint that isn’t a beacon for those who will travel after me on this path).

Rajiv Vijayakar