Rafi S(um)ang this awesome number

This is a post on a song that would bring broad smiles to the faces of all the ladies whose significant others are obedient.

The track in question was Tumne Pukara Aur Hum Chale Aaye, from Rajkumar. It could be translated to, “You called, and I have come”.

It was composed by Shankar Jaikishan and rendered by the one and only Mohammed Rafi, who was joined behind the microphone by Suman Kalyanpur. It was the latter's only contribution to the film’s soundtrack.

Mr Jaipuri penned it, completing his H(asr)at-trick of hit tracks in the film.

Rafi rendered this homonymous hit

The first verse of the second Mohammed Rafi solo from Rajkumar – Tumne Kisi Ki Jaan Ko – went, “Tumne kisi ki jaan ko jaate hue dekha hai? Woh dekho mujhse roothkar meri jaan ja rahi hai.”

While the first jaan could be translated to life, the second meant, “Beloved”.

The song could be translated to, “Have you seen anyone whose life is slipping away? Look there, my beloved, who is upset with me, is leaving.”

There is, of course, a third jaan. And sab jaante hain (everyone knows) that Hasrat Jaipuri penned the Shankar Jaikishan composition.

Mohammed Rafi rendered this truism

Is Rang Badalti Duniya Mein was not just a song, but it was also a truism.

The next line of the track went, “Insaan ki neeyat theek nahin”.

If the two Mohammed Rafi solos from Rajkumar on this blog were to be arranged in the alphabetical order, this song would be the first.

Hasrat Jaipuri penned the track, which could be translated to, “In this world, where changing colours is the norm, there’s more than meets the eye as far as the intentions of people are concerned”.

Shankarsingh Raghuvanshi and Jaikishan Dayabhai Panchal composed it.

Lata rendered this Antakshari opener

If the four tracks from Rajkumar (1964) were arranged in the alphabetical order, Aaja Ayee Bahaar would be the first.

The only female solo in the film, it was rendered by none other than Lata Mangeshkar.

The song, which was penned by Shailendra, was composed by Shankar Jaikishan.

Die-hard Salman Khan fans obviously know this already, but here is a fun fact – it was the first song in the Antakshari sequence in Maine Pyar Kiya, which released a quarter of a century after Rajkumar.

No prizes for guessing that it was rendered by Ms Mangeshkar.

Kishore Kumar's warning deserved applause

The second – and undoubtedly more popular – song from Mr. X In Bombay on this blog was Mere Mehboob Qayamat Hogi, which could be translated to, “My beloved, there will be a calamity”.

The film’s soundtrack featured a couple of versions of the Kishore Kumar solo.

While this blog contained a post on just one, there was a sad version too.

There’s no two ways about the fact that a warning hasn’t sounded so melodious.

Laxmikant Shantaram Kudalkar and Pyarelal Ramprasad Sharma, who composed it, deserved the credit for that.

It was penned by Anand Bakshi.

This track inspired Mr MaLiK

My blog on Hindi film music of the 1990s contains a post on Aye Mere Humsafar, from Baazigar, which released in 1993.

The track, which was composed by Anu Malik, was inspired by Khoobsurat Haseena, from Mr. X In Bombay, which released in 1964.

It wasn’t just rendered by, but also picturised on the inimitable Kishore Kumar.

He was joined behind the microphone by Lata Mangeshkar*.

The song, which Anand Bakshi penned, was composed by Laxmikant-Pyarelal.

(*Note: The duo rendered another duet in the film. It was titled Chali Re Chali Gori Paniya Bharan Ko.)

Ms Mangeshkar’s rendition was pRa(f)iseworthy

It would not be incorrect to state that Tere Husn Ki Kya Taarif Karoon should have been titled, “Is gaane ki kya taarif karoon” (which could be translated to, “How should I praise this song?”)

The song, from Leader, was four minutes and 42 seconds long.

It was the shorter of the two duets rendered by Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi in the film*.

Shakeel Badayuni penned the Naushad composition.

(*The shortest duet in the film was Aaj Kal Shauq-E-Deedar Hai. Four minutes and 16 seconds long, it was sung by Asha Bhosle and Rafi.)

Rafi excelled at drinking songs

The shortest of the four tracks from Leader on this blog is one of the best drinking songs of all time.

The song in question was Mujhe Duniyawalon Sharabi Na Samjho. It was four minutes and 25 seconds long.

It was rendered by the one and only Mohammed Rafi, who was undoubtedly an ace at singing drinking songs, despite being a teetotaller.

The track, which was penned by Shakeel Badayuni, was composed by Naushad.

Incidentally, Rafi also sang the shortest song in the film – Hameen Se Mohabbat. It was three minutes and 21 seconds long.

Lata rendered a magni(Ra)ficent track

Ek Shahenshah Ne Banwa Ke was the longest of the four tracks from Leader* on this blog – it was five minutes and 16 seconds long.

There’s no two ways about the fact that this song, which was about the Taj Mahal, was magnificent.

It was rendered by Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi.

The song, which Shakeel Badayuni rendered, was composed by none other than Naushad Ali.

(*Note: It was the second longest song in the film. The longest, Dayya Re Dayya, was seven minutes and a dozen seconds long. It was rendered by Asha Bhosle.)

This patR(af)iotic song was underrated

This blog contains posts on four songs from Leader, which released in 1964.

If they were to be arranged in the alphabetical order, Apni Azaadi No Hum Hargiz Mita Sakte Nahin would be the first.

While Ab Tumhare Hawale Watan Saathiyon, from Haqeeqat (which released the same year) is among the most popular lines associated with patriotism, it wouldn’t be incorrect to state that this song was one of the most underrated songs in the aforementioned genre.

Mohammed Rafi rendered the Naushad composition, which was four minutes and 38 seconds long.

Shakeel Badayuni penned it.

The memories certainly wer(H)e(ma)n(')t foggy

Hemant Kumar produced Kohraa, which released in 1964 (i.e., a couple of years after Bees Saal Baad).

This blog contains a post on just one track from the film – Yeh Nayan Dare Dare.

The involvement of Kumar in the song wasn’t restricted to composing it, but he rendered it as well.

Kaifi Azmi penned the song, which was revisited by legendary singers Lata Mangeshkar (in her 1994 album, Shraddhanjali, which paid homage to the top male playback singers of the Golden Era) and Jagjit Singh (in Close To My Heart, a 2003 compilation of classics).

Rafi was worthy of Taarif

There’s no two ways about the fact that Taarif Karoon Kya Uski (a.k.a. Yeh Chand Sa Roshan Chehra) was one of the finest examples of saving the best for last.

The seventh – and final – song from Kashmir Ki Kali on this blog was five minutes and 10 seconds long.

Taarif karoon kya unki jinhone yeh gaana gaaya? There’s no doubt that Mohammed Rafi’s rendition of the song, and its hook in particular, was worthy of praise.

The track, which was composed by S H Bihari, was composed by the one and only O P Nayyar.  

This Rafi solo was flawless

Subhanallah Haseen Chehra was the shortest of the seven songs from Kashmir Ki Kali* on this blog – it was three minutes and 37 seconds long.

Subhanallah is a word used to praise God, but there’s no two ways about the fact that the song, which was rendered by the one and only Mohammed Rafi, was flawless.

S H Bihari penned the O P Nayyar composition.

(*Note: The shortest song in the film was Balma Khuli Hawa Mein. The Asha Bhosle solo, which isn’t on this blog, was just a second shorter than Subhanallah Haseen Chehra.)

This upbeat numBeR was long

The composer was taken out of Punjab, but Punjab could not be taken out of the composer – much to the delight of his fans, whose reaction, predictably, was, “Balle Balle”.

The music director in question was the one and only O P Nayyar, and the track was Meri Jaan Balle Balle.

It was the longest of the seven songs from Kashmir Ki Kali on this blog – it was half-a-dozen minutes and 46 seconds long.

The fun Asha Bhosle and Mohammed Rafi must’ve had rendering the song, which was penned by S H Bihari, was evident.

This solo was worth memoR(af)ising

Kisi Na Kisi Se Kabhi Na Kabhi was a song for which I coined a mnemonic – OTW.

It stands for someOne (Kisi na kisi se), at some Time (Kabhi na kabhi) and someWhere (Kahin na kahin).

There’s no two ways about the fact that it was a song worth remembering.

And the three men who collaborated on it – S H Bihari (who penned it), O P Nayyar (who composed it) and Mohammed Rafi (who rendered it) – equally deserved the credit for that.

The track, from Kashmir Ki Kali, was four minutes and 57 seconds long.

It eARned the listeners' appreciation

Of the three duets on the soundtrack of Kashmir Ki Kali, Isharon Isharon Mein was the shortest – it was four minutes and 46 seconds long.

No prizes for guessing that it was rendered by Asha Bhosle and Mohammed Rafi.

S H Bihari penned the song, whose hook was a question [“Bata yeh hunar tune seekha kahan se” (Tell me where you learnt this art from)] and its answer [“Meri jaan seekha hai tumne jahan se” (My dear, I learnt it where you learnt it)].

It was composed by the one and only O P Nayyar.

Rafi ruled the playback duniya

As far as Mohammed Rafi was concerned, it wouldn’t be incorrect to state that Hai Duniya Usi Ki, from Kashmir Ki Kali, was a biographical song.

After all, its opening verse went, “Hai duniya usi ki, zamana usi ka, mohabbat mein jo ho gaya ho kisi ka” (which could be translated to, “His is the world who has found someone’s love”).

And he was loved and admired by millions.

S H Bihari penned the O P Nayyar composition, which was the longest Rafi solo in the film – it was five minutes and 55 seconds long.

It was an ABsolute MaRvel

Although O P Nayyar wasn’t the first choice to compose the songs of Kashmir Ki Kali (1964), everyone is aware of the wonders he did when he came on board.

This blog contains seven songs from the film.

If they were arranged in the alphabetical order, Deewana Hua Badal would be the first.

Five minutes and 36 seconds long, the track was penned by S H Bihari.

It was a Shammi Kapoor-starrer, so no prizes for guessing that Mohammed Rafi rendered the song.

He was joined behind the microphone by none other than Asha Bhosle.

It was Talat’s last hurrah

By no means would it be incorrect to state that Phir Wohi Shaam Wohi Gham – the only song from Jahan Ara (1964) on this blog – mirrored the decline of the man who rendered it.

By the time the film released, Talat Mahmood was in the shaam (evening) of his playback singing career, during which he rendered many an unforgettable number laced with melancholy (gham).

Although the track, which was penned by Rajinder Krishan and composed by Madan Mohan, was a classic, it, sadly, proved to be the crooner’s last hurrah. 

It was three-and-a-half minutes long.

Everyone was fida on Rafi

Many Hindi film soundtracks feature patriotic songs, but there’s no two ways about the fact that Kar Chale Hum Fida – the only song from Haqeeqat (1964) on this blog – is a landmark as far as the said genre is concerned.

And the reason it continues to have as deep an impact on Hindi film music buffs as it did 55 years ago is that it was composed by that unsung great, Madan Mohan.

It was one of the tracks for which Kaifi Azmi, who penned it, is remembered.

The song was rendered by Mohammed Rafi.

   

Indeed, this track was AMazing

The title of Geet Gaaya Pattharon Ne (1964), and the song of the same name, could be translated to, “The rocks sang a song”.

But by no means would it be incorrect to state that it was a rocking song.

While the film’s soundtrack featured a couple of versions of it (a solo by Kishori Amonkar, and a duet), this blog contains a post on the latter, which was rendered by Asha Bhosle and Mahendra Kapoor.

It was the only song from the film on the blog.

Hasrat Jaipuri penned the track, which Ramlal composed.

Rafi’s vocal ‘Rang’e was immense

It was undoubtedly ironic that this blog contains a post on just one song from Gazal, which released in 1964.

The track in question was Rang Aur Noor Ki Baaraat.

It was picturised on Sunil Dutt, to whom homage ought to be paid on the occasion of his 14^th death anniversary, which happens to be today*.

The track, which was penned by Sahir Ludhianvi, was composed by Madan Mohan.

It was rendered by Mohammed Rafi, who had the most amazing vocal range.

(*Note: He passed away at the age of 75 on May 25, 2005.)

Sukh was Rafi’s saathi then

Raahi Manwa Dukh Ki Chinta – the philosophical number from Dosti – wasn’t always applicable to Mohammed Rafi, who rendered it.

Because although he sang, “Dukh to apna saathi hai” (which could be translated to, “Sorrow is my companion”), it was just the opposite when the film’s release (because he was the numero uno crooner then). And the joy he provided with his renditions continues to be his fans’ best friend.

The track, which was four minutes and seven seconds long, was penned by Majrooh Sultanpuri.

It was composed by Laxmikant Shantaram Kudalkar and Pyarelal Ramprasad Sharma.

It was indeed (R)afitting tribute

Meri Dosti Mera Pyar – the title song of Dosti – was the perfect tribute to Laxmikant Shantaram Kudalkar on his 21^st death anniversary*.

If it weren’t for his dosti with the man whose name contained the word Pyar, Hindi film music buffs wouldn’t have had the opportunity to cherish gems such as this track, which was four minutes and 23 seconds long.

Majrooh Sultanpuri penned the song, which Mohammed Rafi rendered.

(*Note: Born on November 3, 1937, the older half of the composer duo Laxmikant-Pyarelal passed away at the age of 60 on May 25, 1998.)

  

Rafi’s shortest solo was outstanding

If one were to exclude the only Lata Mangeshkar solo from Dosti (Gudiya Humse Roothi Rahogi, which was three minutes and 31 seconds long), Mera To Jo Bhi Kadam Hai was the shortest song in the film – it was four minutes and three seconds long.

No prizes for guessing that it was rendered by the one and only Mohammed Rafi.

Majrooh Sultanpuri penned the track, which could be an appropriate tribute to the duo who composed it.

After all, fans ka to jo bhi kadam hai, woh L-P (Laxmikant-Pyarelal) ki chaah mein hai, isn’t it?

Undoubtedly, Rafi’s chahnewale were impressed

If Jaanewalon Zara were rendered by anyone but the one and only Mohammed Rafi, it would have had to be paraphrased to, “Chahnewalon zara mudke sun lo mujhe” (which would be translated to, “My fans, please turn around and listen to me”).

But there’s no two ways about the fact that the song, from Dosti, was tailor-made for him, hence they did so. Needless to say, they were impressed.

It was four minutes and half-a-dozen seconds long.

The track, which was penned by Majrooh Sultanpuri, was composed by Laxmikant Shantaram Kudalkar and Pyarelal Ramprasad Sharma.

It deserved the (Ra)Filmfare trophies

This blog contains posts on five songs from Dosti, which released in 1964 and was Laxmikant-Pyarelal’s breakthrough album.

If they were arranged in the alphabetical order, Chahoonga Main Tujhe Saanjh Savere would be the first.

The longest track in the film, it was four minutes and 55 seconds long.

It earned the duo its maiden Filmfare Award in the Best Music Director category.

While Majrooh Sultanpuri bagged his only award in the Best Lyricist category for this track at the same ceremony, Mohammed Rafi took home his second trophy in the Best Playback Singer category.

This birthday song was MemoRAble

Some kids wish they were adults, and most grown-ups have fond memories of their childhoods. These include birthday celebrations.

A song about the yearning for those days of innocence and simple pleasures was Hum Bhi Agar Bachche Hote (a.k.a. Happy Birthday To You).

The only track from Door Ki Awaaz (1964) on this blog, it was penned by Shakeel Badayuni.

There’s no two ways about the fact that the song, which was rendered by Asha Bhosle, Manna Dey and Mohammed Rafi, was (and continues to be) catchy.

It was composed by none other than Ravi. 

Kumar composed and (Kisho)rendered it

The shorter of the two tracks from Door Gagan Ki Chhaon Mein on this blog was Koi Lauta De Mere – it was three minutes and 33 seconds long.

By no means would it be incorrect to state that it was a song by music itself. After all, even music must be yearning for the glorious period it enjoyed between the 1950s and the 1970s.

Jokes apart, Shailendra penned it.

Kumar’s involvement in the song wasn’t (Kisho)restricted to composing it, but he rendered it too.

Another version – titled Revival – was nine seconds shorter than the original.

Kumar didn’t just (Kisho)render it

The soundtrack of Door Gagan Ki Chhaon Mein, which released in 1964 and marked the screen debut of Amit Kumar (who was 11 years old then, and grew up to become a popular playback singer in his own right), boasted of a couple of outstanding songs.

The longer of these was Aa Chal Ke Tujhe – it was four minutes and 42 seconds long.

The involvement of Kumar’s father, Kishore, wasn’t restricted to rendering the track, but he penned and composed it too.

Moreover, the legend produced, directed, wrote and starred in the film as well.

Man, it was (R)afine song!

Validation from industry stalwarts (in a popular magazine) aside, one must truly have a positive outlook towards music to appreciate Man Re Tu Kaahe Na Dheer Dhare – rated the best Hindi film song of all time.

Based on Raga Aiman, the song, which Roshan composed, was rendered by the one and only Mohammed Rafi.

It was the only track from Chitralekha (1964) on this blog.

Its opening line – which was penned by Sahir Ludhianvi, and a paraphrasing of a couplet by Tulsidas – could be translated to, “My dear mind, why don’t you hold your horses?”

Unsurprisingly, Rafi's rendition was flawless

Whoever opined that an allegation need not be melodious hadn’t heard Radhike Tune Bansari Churayi from Beti Bete.

By no means would it be incorrect to state that the track – which could be translated to, “Hey Radha, you have stolen my flute” – was a classic.

It was based on Raga Ahir Bhairav.

Mohammed Rafi's rendition was superb.

The track, which Shailendra penned, was composed by Shankar Jaikishan.

While the rest of the song could easily be understood, one word couldn’t. In the line that went, “Kaahe ko raar machaye”, the word raar means a fuss.

It was certainly (R)afine lulL(at)aby

This blog contains posts on a couple of tracks from Beti Bete, which released in 1964.

If they were to be arranged in the alphabetical order, Aaj Kal Mein Dhal Gaya would be the first.

One of the most popular loris (lullabies) from Hindi films, it was rendered by Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi.

Shailendra penned the song, which Shankar Jaikishan composed.

And here’s the inescapable irony – although it is a post on a song sung to induce a child to sleep, I’ve posted it when everyone is gearing up to face a new day.

(Kams)Indeed, Rafi's version was fantastic

There were two versions of the Kamsin song on the soundtrack of Ayee Milan Ki Bela.

However, this blog contains a post on just one – the male version, which was rendered by none other than Mohammed Rafi. It was titled Tum Kamsin Ho.

The female version – Main Kamsin Hoon – was sung by Lata Mangeshkar.

Although the word Kamsin could be translated to minor (i.e., a person who hasn’t turned 18), it wouldn’t be incorrect to state that the song, which Shankar Jaikishan composed, was a major hit.

Both the versions were penned by Hasrat Jaipuri.

Ah ha was people’s ReAction

If the two songs from Ayee Milan Ki Bela (1964) were to be arranged in the alphabetical order, Ah Ha Ayee Milan Ki Bela would be the first.

Not only was it the title track of the film, but it was preceded by an exclamation that was presumably the reaction of the listeners to it too.

It was the only song in the film to which Asha (Bhos)lent her voice.

She was joined behind the microphone by the one and only Mohammed Rafi.

The song, which was penned by Shailendra, was composed by Shankar Jaikishan.

Rafi impressed the youth too

Such was the versatility of Mohammed Rafi that even if one were to listen to April Fool Banaya, from April Fool (1964), on a day other than April 1, it would sound as good.

A track that has been popular with those who have a predilection for practical jokes, it was the only song from the film on this blog.

The song, which was penned by Hasrat Jaipuri, was incomplete without leading lady Saira Banu's interjections, “You farebi” and “You makkaar”. Both the words could be translated to cheat.

It was composed by Shankar Jaikishan.

It was another MemoRable solo

Tu Kahan Yeh Bata was the second solo by Mohammed Rafi from Tere Ghar Ke Samne on this blog.

It was, in fact, the shortest of his three solos in the film – it was four minutes and 26 seconds long.

By no means would it be incorrect to state that it was an outstanding track.

It would not have been a surprise if die-hard romantics ranked it as one of their favourite songs.

And the credit for that went to two individuals – Hasrat Jaipuri, who penned the track, and S D Burman, who composed it.

Everyone wished it were LongeR

Three minutes and 19 seconds long, the title track of Tere Ghar Ke Samne was the shortest song in the film.

The banter between the leads – rendered by Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi – included two lines that strike a chord with the listeners now just as they did then – “Ghar ka banana koi aasaan kaam nahin, duniya basana koi aasaan kaam nahin” [which could be translated to, “Neither building a house nor creating one’s own (after getting married) is a piece of cake”].

Hasrat Jaipuri penned the track, which was composed by S D Burman.

Rafi rendered this monumental track

There’s no two ways about the fact that Dil Ka Bhanwar was a monumental track.

And that wasn’t just because it was shot in Delhi’s Qutub Minar.

Mohammed Rafi rendered the S D Burman composition, which Hasrat Jaipuri penned.

The longest of the four tracks from Tere Ghar Ke Samne on this blog, it was four minutes and 37 seconds long.

Only Rafi's solo Sun Le Tu Dil Ki Sada (four minutes and 46 seconds long) and Asha Bhosle's Dil Ki Manzil (five minutes and 10 seconds long) – which aren’t on this blog – were longer.

It became every LoveR's favourite

If the four songs from Tere Ghar Ke Samne (1963) on this blog were arranged in the alphabetical order, Dekho Rootha Na Karo would be the first.

Anyone who has been in love must have, at some point, had to placate an upset beloved, and there’s no two ways about the fact that this song, which was composed by S D Burman, immediately springs to mind when one thinks of such a situation.

Hasrat Jaipuri penned the track, which was three minutes and 46 seconds long.

It was rendered by Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi.

It was a RespectfuL request

By no means would it be incorrect to state that Paaon Chhoo Lene Do – the third track from Taj Mahal on this blog – was pleasant to the ear.

It was also a polite number, because it was a request on behalf of the flowers, who want to touch the feet of the lady to seek her blessings.

The second duet from the film on this blog, it was rendered by Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi.

No prizes for guessing that it was penned by none other than Sahir Ludhianvi.

The song was composed by Roshan.

Ms Mangeshkar earned (R)aFilmfare nomination

Now that India's voters are just a few days away from knowing the MPs who will represent them in the seventeenth Lok Sabha, they would obviously be hoping that the promises made to them are kept.

Or else, they will have to sing, “Jo waada kiya woh nibhana padega”, the evergreen song from Taj Mahal.

The track, which was penned by the one and only Sahir Ludhianvi, was composed by Roshan.

It was rendered by Lata Mangeshkar (who was nominated in the Best Playback Singer category at the Filmfare Awards in 1964) and Mohammed Rafi.

It was a memoRa(fi)ble solo

There’s no two ways about the fact that Taj Mahal, which released in 1963, was one of composer Roshan's most monumental works (pun intended).

It earned him his only Filmfare award in 1964.

Of the three tracks from the film on this blog, just one – Jo Baat Tujh Mein Hai – was a solo.

It was rendered by the one and only Mohammed Rafi.

The song earned Sahir Ludhianvi his maiden Filmfare Award in the Best Lyricist category.

Interestingly, he lost the trophy to himself – his Gumrah song, Chalo Ek Baar Phir Se, was another nominee.

The sisters sang it wonderfULly

Tumko Piya Dil Diya was the only song from Shikari (1963) on this blog.

It was the shortest song in the film – it was three minutes and 26 seconds long.

The song was composed by G S Kohli (whose full name was Gursharan Singh Kohli).

An unsung music director, he continued to assist O P Nayyar even after he bagged a few independent projects.

The track, which was penned by Faruk Kaiser, was a memorable female duet. It was rendered by none other than Lata Mangeshkar, who was joined behind the microphone by Usha Mangeshkar.

It was another fL(at)awless rendition

Given that Lata Mangeshkar was already a high-flyer (professionally), it was ironic that she rendered Pankh Hote To Ud Aati (which could be translated to, “If I had wings, I would fly to be with you, my cruel lover”.)

It was the only song from Sehra, which released in 1963, on this blog. Needless to say, it was a fabulous number.

And it was one of the first numbers that springs to mind when one thinks of evergreen songs by unsung composers – it was composed by Ramlal Choudhary.

The song was penned by Hasrat Jaipuri.

This Mukesh solo was beautiful

Thanks to Mr Bakshi, Hindi film music buffs got the Anand of imagining the moon sighing and flowers waiting patiently.

The song in question was Chand Aahen Bharega – the only song from Phool Bane Angaare (1963) on this blog.

There’s no two ways about the fact that it was certainly one of the most appropriate tracks to dedicated to one’s beloved, especially because the opening verse concluded with, “Husn ki baat chali toh sab tera naam lenge” (While on the subject of beauty, everyone will name you).

Composed by Kalyanji-Anandji, it was rendered by Mukesh.

Rafi’s title track was wonderful

When the legendary Mohammed Rafi sang, “Banda parwar thaam lo jigar”, it is quite possible that his fans considered it to be an instruction and actually waited with bated breath for what he would render next.

And what he rendered next was the remainder of the title track of Phir Wohi Dil Laya Hoon, which completed a hat-trick of awesome Rafi solos from the film on this blog.

The song was penned by Majrooh Sultanpuri.

Being a tonga track, it could not have been composed by anyone but the one and only O P Nayyar.

Lakhs loved this Rafi track

Coming back to the remainder of the Mohammed Rafi solos from Phir Wohi Dil Laya Hoon on this blog, he referred to a woman who had a gulaab (rose) on her lips and sharaab (alcohol) in her eyes in Lakhon Hain Nigah Mein, concluding the verse with, “Lekin woh baat kahan”.

But if lakhs of Hindi film buffs in general, and Raficionados in particular, are to be believed, there’s no two ways about the fact that this track had that ‘baat’.

The song, which was penned by Majrooh Sultanpuri, was composed by O P Nayyar.

The (Bho)s(o)le female solo rocked

Sandwiched between the Mohammed Rafi solos on the soundtrack of Phir Wohi Dil Laya Hoon was the lone female solo in the film – Aankhon Se Jo Utri Hai.

It was rendered by none other than Asha Bhosle.

O P Nayyar – who was as famous for his refusal to employ the vocals of Lata Mangeshkar for his compositions as he was instrumental in making Bhosle the legend she became – composed the song, which was penned by Majrooh Sultanpuri.

Paraphrasing a line from the track, it wouldn’t be incorrect to say, “Kya baat hai is gaane ki”.

LyR(af)ically, it was a gem

The first line of this song could be translated to, “Decorate the corner of your saree with buds” (Managable so far, isn’t it?)

The next line could be translated to, “Place the stars in your tresses” (Impossible, sir!)

The song in question was Aanchal Mein Saja Lena Kaliyan.

If the four songs from Phir Wohi Dil Laya Hoon (1963) on this blog were to be arranged in the alphabetical order, it would be the first.

Mohammed Rafi rendered the song, which was penned by Majrooh Sultanpuri, and composed by none other than O P Nayyar.

It was worth seveRaL listens

Woh Jab Yaad Aaye was the longest of the three tracks from Parasmani on this blog – it was four minutes and 43 seconds long.

The song was rendered by Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi*.

Asad Bhopali penned the Laxmikant-Pyarelal composition, which was worth repeated listens.

Incidentally, the popularity of the film’s soundtrack – and the success of the film – prompted Laxmikant to christen his bungalow – located in Juhu – Parasmani.

(*Note: Rafi, incidentally, sang the longest song in the film, Roshan Tumhi Se Duniya, which was five minutes and 57 seconds long, and was penned by Indeevar.) 

Undoubtedly, it was (Mangeshk)arocking number

Ooi maa ooi maa yeh kya ho gaya?

The answer to that question was, “Gaana hit ho gaya”.

It was the shortest song on the soundtrack of Parasmani – it was three minutes and 24 seconds long.

The track, which was penned by Laxmikant Shantaram Kudalkar and Pyarelal Ramprasad Sharma, was rendered by the one and only Lata Mangeshkar*.

It was penned by Faruk Kaiser.

(*Note: Her other solo from the film, which isn’t on this blog, was Mere Dil Mein Halki Si. Asad Bhopali penned the track, which was four minutes and 56 seconds long.)

Ms Mangeshkar's K(ama)lass was evident

If the three songs from Parasmani (1963) on this blog were arranged in the alphabetical order, Hansta Hua Noorani Chehra – the mere mention of which would, undoubtedly, bring smiles to the faces of the listeners – would be the first.

The song, which was three minutes and 40 seconds long, was rendered by Lata Mangeshkar, who was joined behind the microphone by Kamal Barot.

It was penned by Asad Bhopali, and composed by a pair of debutants who went on to rule the roost for the next 35 years – Laxmikant Shantaram Kudalkar and Pyarelal Ramprasad Sharma.

They were on a RolL

The soundtrack of Meri Surat Teri Aankhen featured a couple of versions of Tere Bin Soone.

However, this blog contains a post on just one – the duet, which happened to be the longest song in the film – it was five minutes and 27 seconds long.

It was rendered by Lata Mangeshkar and Mohammed Rafi.

And if this version wasn’t touching enough, the song had a sad version as well. It was rendered by Rafi, and was three minutes and 49 seconds long.

The song, which was penned by Shailendra, was composed by S D Burman.

Dey did an outstanding job

It was no surprise that Poochho Na Kaise Maine Rain Bitayi was among Manna Dey’s finest renditions.

After all, he was the undisputed numero uno when it came to singing classical numbers. And this track was based on Raga Ahir Bhairav.

The shortest of the three tracks from Meri Surat Teri Aankhen on this blog, it was three minutes and 20 seconds long.

Dey also rendered the sad version of the S D Burman composition, which was a male duet. He was joined behind the microphone by S D Batish.

They were penned by Shailendra.

Rafi sang this wonderful solo

If the three songs from Meri Surat Teri Aankhen (1963) were to be arranged in the alphabetical order, Naache Man Mora Magan would be the first.

It was four minutes and 40 seconds long.

While there’s no two ways about the fact that the S D Burman composition, which was based on Raga Bhairavi, was among Mohammed Rafi’s best, it would be unfair if the man who accompanied him on the tabla – Pt Samta Prasad – were denied his due credit. 

Burman postponed the recording of the track until Prasad arrived from Varanasi. 

Shailendra penned it.

It deserved the (Ra)Filmfare nomination

The soundtrack of Mere Mehboob had a couple of versions of its title track – Mere Mehboob Tujhe.

However, this blog contains a post on just one – the male version, rendered by Mohammed Rafi.

The longest song in the film, it was eight minutes and 12 seconds long.

While Rafi was nominated in the Best Playback Singer category at the Filmfare Awards in 1964, Shakeel Badayuni was nominated in the Best Lyricist category at the same ceremony.

Naushad Ali composed the track, whose female version – rendered by Lata Mangeshkar – was four minutes and 45 seconds long.

Every Raficionado loved this beauty

This blog contains posts on a couple of tracks from Mere Mehboob, which released in 1963.

If they were arranged in the alphabetical order, as well as the ascending order of their durations, Ae Husn Zara Jaag would be the first – it was three minutes and 31 seconds long.

The song was composed by Naushad Ali, who was nominated in the Best Music Director category at the Filmfare Awards in 1964.

Not only was the song, which was penned by Shakeel Badayuni and rendered by Mohammed Rafi, about beauty, but it was a beauty too.

Rafi rendered this ‘te(a)r’rific track

It is said that a person’s eyes are the windows to his/her soul.

And if the song that happens to be the subject of this post is to be believed, their secretions are the expressions of the heart.

Well, there’s no need to ‘tear’ your hair out trying to figure out the track in question.

It was Yeh Aansoo Mere Dil Ki Zubaan Hain, the only song from Hamrahi (1963) on this blog.

The song, which was penned by Hasrat Jaipuri and composed by Shankar Jaikishan, was rendered by the one and only Mohammed Rafi.

Kapoor bagged his M(ahendr)aiden award

Here’s a riddle, folks.

What is a line no person, regardless of gender, would like to hear, but became a song that everyone loved to listen to?

The answer is, “Chalo ek baar phir se ajnabee ban jaayen hum dono” (which could be translated to, “Let us become strangers again”.)

It was the only song from Gumrah (1963) on this blog.

The track, which was penned by the one and only Sahir Ludhianvi, was composed by Ravi Shankar Sharma.

It earned Mahendra Kapoor his first Filmfare Award in the Best Playback Singer category in 1964.