Revisiting RD Burman the last music emperor

For the purists, he was an anathema, for those born in the ‘60s and ‘70s, he was a god. You can only think of RD Burman in the extremes. He’s venerated by many as a composer who put Indian music on international pedestal; he’s reviled by some as a plagiarist who copied most of his hit numbers. Love him, hate him, there is no denying him his due place in the history of Indian film music. He single-handedly managed to bridge the gap between Hindustani classical and Western tunes, mixing the best of both to create unique masterpieces. He was the son of a musical legend, SD Burman, who is said to have never repeated a tune in his long career. It’s hard to carve out your own niche out of such a huge influence and that he was able to do so successfully and perhaps surpass his illustrious father in popularity says a lot about his tenacity as well as his own spark of genius. And at a time when song programming wasn’t assisted by computers, he managed to create layered masterpieces that boggle the mind. He’s said to be a composer’s composer in the sense that professionals still marvel at how he was able to squeeze out such output, given his limited resources. Despite his stature and immense following,  he died heartbroken and alone, rebuffed by the industry which owed him so much. Presenting the highs and lows of his chequered career…

 Prodigious ‘50s

RD Burman was said to be just nine when he reportedly composed the song for the comic song Ae meri topi palat ke aa, used by his father in Fantoosh (1956). Another story goes that he composed the tune for Sar jo tera chakraye from Pyaasa (1957). From an early age, a pattern seemed to have set – Dada Burman will work on the hard, complicated numbers while Pancham would set the tunes for soft, fun sons. He had a natural flair for playing instruments and learnt music from such luminaries as sarod player Ali Akbar Khan and tabla player Samta Prasad. He also picked up playing the harmonica. In fact, he is said to have played the harmonica for the Dev Anand song Hai apna dil toh awara from Solva Saal (1958).

Swinging ‘60s

He became a full-fledged assistant to his father in the late ‘50s and assisted him in films like Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi (1958), Kaagaz Ke Phool (1959), Tere Ghar Ke Samne (1963), Bandini (1963), Ziddi (1964), Guide (1965) and Teen Devian (1965). It was Mehmood who gave him his first break as an independent composer in Chote Nawab (1961). A close friendship developed between them and Pancham also acted alongside Mehmood in Bhoot Bangla (1965). He also developed a bond with Kishore Kumar after Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi, a bond which was to bear fruit with their collaborations in Aradhana (1969) and other Rajesh Khanna hits. The composer hit his stride with Teesri Manzil (1966). Shankar-Jaikishan were Shammi Kapoor’s favourite composers but for some reason they were unavailable for the film. He agreed to do a sitting with the young composer and immediately connected, visualizing songs and situations and reportedly agreeing on Pancham’s vision for the film from that first meeting itself. With songs like O haseena zulfowali, Aaja aaja main hoon pyar tera and O mere sona re, it proved to be one of the biggest musical hits of both Shammi’s and RD’s career. It was produced by Naseer Hussain and Pancham became Naseer’s favourite composer till Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak (1988), where he was replaced by Anand-Milind. RD’s other hits from the ‘60s include Baharon Ke Sapne (1967), Padosan (1968) and Pyar Ka Mausam (1969).

Super ‘70s

The rise of Rajesh Khanna as a superstar coincided with the rise of RD Burman as a super composer. Rajesh had tasted success with Pancham and Kishore Kumar in Aradhana, whose songs some say were actually composed by RD as Dada Burman was ill during the time. He favoured both the singer and the composer in the coming years. Kati Patang (1970) with songs like Yeh sham mastani and Yeh jo mohbbat hai was a musical hit and RD formed a fruitful relationship with director Shakti Samanta, resulting in such hits like Amar Prem (1971), Ajnabee (1974) and Mehbooba (1976). Amar Prem, with its classical tunes in songs like Raina beeti jaaye or Chingari koi bhadke was unlike anything RD ever attempted. It was his answer to the critics who felt he could only ape Western music. He also formed a fruitful partnership with Dev Anand during this period, resulting in musical hits like Hare Rama Hare Krishna (1971), where his Dum Maaro Dum got elevated to the cult status, Heera Panna (1973) and Warrant (1975). Lyricist Gulzar was turning filmmaker in the ‘70s and their bond went back to Gulzar’s first credited film as a lyricist, Bandini (1963), where he wrote the song Mora gora ang layi le, composed by SD Burman, with son RD as the assistant. Their collaboration in films like Parichay (1972), whose Beeti na bitai raina is one of the finest classical based duets of Lata, Aandhi (1975), which can be said to be the pinnacle of their partnership and Khushboo (1975), brought back the old-fashioned melody in Hindi films. Gulzar allowed him to do his own things and RD, who had utmost respect for Gulzar’s poetry, composed tunes where the singers had prominence while music stayed in the background. The best example of this perhaps is their later collaboration, Ijazzat (1988), whose Mera kuch saaman was pure free verse composed in such a way that all you remember is Asha Bhosle’s haunting voice teasing out its meaning.

Dismal ‘80s

It’s strange that the man whose music reigned in the ‘70s suddenly found himself out of favour in the next decade. It was a combination of factors which led to this. Amitabh Bachchan, the current superstar was doing pure masala entertainers which didn’t require great music. Then, all the experiments that RD did in the ‘70s were copied shamelessly by others in the ‘80s and thereby he lost his uniqueness. His hardcore supporters too had moved on to others and he ran out of luck in the sense that films carrying his music begin to flop at the box office. He wasn’t responsible for their fate but somehow people began avoiding him. It’s not that he lost his touch. Films like Khoobsurat (1980), Rocky (1981), Yeh Waada Raha (1982), Masoom (1983) Sunny (1984), and Saagar (1985) are proof enough of that. But he was always known for a man who gave out hit albums and not hit songs and ‘80s were a period where individual songs like Tumse milke zindagi ko yun laga (Chor Police 1983), Roz roz ankhon tale ( Jeeva 1984) or Mammiya kero mama (Arjun 1985) stood out rather than the whole OST.

‘90s and the end…

His star had really dwindled by the ‘90s. RD was one of the friendliest of men who liked to be surrounded by well-wishers reportedly had to bribe people to come and have a drink with him. He didn’t want work but craved for company. His output almost dwindled and he had only sporadic hits like Tu hai mere dil ki rani (Indrajeet 1991), Jaipur se nikli gaadi (Gurudev 1993) and Sili hawa choo gayi (Libaas 1993) to his credit. His swan song, 1942: A Love Story, whose songs like Ek ladki ko dekha, Rimjhim rimjhim, Rooth na jaana and Pyar hua chupke se, reminded people he was still a giant, got released three months after his release. It was his best work in almost fifteen years and remains, like most of his evergreen songs, as fresh today as when it was initially released…

On RD Burman’s death anniversary, Devesh Sharma attempts to profile the enigma. Continue reading …Read More