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Cinema@100

Justjoo jiski thi…

Shahrayar, the lyricist of Umrao Jaan was, at heart, a lonely and pained man who could have been a star.
by Humra Quraishi

I vividly recall meeting the late Aligarh-based poet and academic Shahryar (his complete name was Akhlaq Mohammad Khan Shahrayar) here in New Delhi in 2004. This was the first time I had met him. We’d met around the outer lawns of the India International Centre. Incidentally, his family also belonged to my ancestral qasba Aonla. Also, he knew my Aligarh-based younger sister, Habiba.

Shahrayar had shot to fame as the lyricist who penned the soulful, deeply philosophical songs of the 1981 hit, Umrao Jaan. Combined with Rekha’s mujras on the big screen and umraojaanKhayyam’s unmatched musical score, Shahrayar’s words continue to strike a chord with listeners even today.

The man himself, though, was as deep as the poetry he penned. It is possible, even when being celebrated by everyone around, to feel lonely and depressed. And if fate intervenes and plays tricks, one begins to feel victimised by life’s ways.

Shahrayar was one such person.

When I was introduced to him as ‘Habiba’s sister’, he was completely taken aback. My sister and I don’t look like each other at all. “You? Habiba’s sister?” he exclaimed.

“Yes, I am. She’s my younger sister.”

“But you look so different! She covers her head and you…” With that, he looked rather disapprovingly at my hair and the sleeveless shirt I was wearing. “You two are real sisters?”

“Yes, we are real sisters,” I replied.

“From the same father?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Same father?”

“Yes. At least, that’s what amma told us.”

ShahrayarHe guffawed at my answer. The man had a great sense of humour himself, though he had suffered a lot of emotional pain in his life before undergoing a messy separation from his wife after 23 years of marriage. Was it this same pain that stirred the depths in him when he wrote his haunting verses and lyrics? Throughout our conversation, he spoke about tanhaee (loneliness) and the emotional vacuum he was going through. He also kept referring to “Allah’s ways.”

A few years ago, I was to attend a mushaira in which Shahrayar was participating, and I was to interview him after it was over. Sadly, I could not make it to the event because I fell ill. After it was over, he called me. After I had apologised for not being able to attend and interview him, he laughed and said, “It’s okay. Allah’s ways.”

He must have been a deeply lonely man, unable to adjust to his single status, finally conceding defeat to a life that had admittedly been hard on him. He continued our conversation on the phone for a long time, dwelling at length on what being alone means and how life can be unfair. He also hinted darkly at the obstacles life threw his way, which may have stopped him from becoming a celebrated legend. “Whenever I felt that I was going ahead in life, Allah seemed to pull me down,” he sighed. “But those are His ways, who can question them? But one thing is certain – the minute you move forward, the minute you are about to taste success, hurdles are thrown in your way. I have seen this happen in my life.”

He continued talking about the difficulties he was facing as a single man at his age. I was struck anew by the pain the man was carrying in his heart, how bitter he was about life, but how brave he was trying to be about it.

Watch ‘Yeh kya jagah hai doston…’ from Umrao Jaan (1981) penned by Shahrayar:

 

(Pictures courtesy www.iefilmi.eu, thehindu.com) 

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Cinema@100

‘Pakeezah and Umrao Jaan were first made in Pakistan’

Pran Nevile, the man with a passion for musical tribute concerts, talks about organising a music concert night in Pakistan.
by Humra Quraishi

Pran Nevile is passionately obsessed with the bygone era. For one reason or another, this retired diplomat is rather fascinated by the past, and the dominant personalities of the day. This is amply evident from the volumes that he has authored: Love Stories from the Raj, Nautch Girls of India, Beyond the Veil, Rare Glimpses of the Raj, Stories from the Raj: Sahibs Memsahibs and Others, K.L. Saigal: Immortal Singer, and Lahore — A Sentimental Journey.

pran nevileIf one were to move from the books he has authored to the musical programmes he holds, then once again, what strikes you is his focus on stars, singers and performers of yesteryears — right from KL Saigal, Suraiyya and many others who have left a mark on generations of filmgoers. Credit goes to Nevile for putting together ‘gems’ from old music albums, recordings and more.

Pran Nevile, the man
As a retired civil servant he could have sat back and relaxed with the comforts that come with retirement, but he chose to pick up a pen and write. “No, no typing on computers for me,” he once told me. “I have written several books with my pen.”

Nevile is rather obsessed with the bygone era and the characters who flourished then. His focus is on that period, and even the musical programmes he arranges focus on yesteryear stars. Each of these musical evenings has seen a packed auditorium with the audience sitting lost in nostalgia.

Perhaps he is able to strike a chord because he carries a welter of emotions within, something which probably started when he was forced to leave Lahore as a very young man. As he writes in his preface to his book on Lahore, “This book on the Lahore of my days was conceived in the lonely dining room of Hotel Astoria in Geneva in November 1963. I was having breakfast when I heard someone calling out to me in Punjabi, `Motian aleo, Hindustan de o ke Pakistan de?’ (Prince of Pearls, are you from India or Pakistan?)’

“I looked back, responding promptly, `Bashao aao baitho, main Lahore da han‘ (Your Royal Highness, please come and sit down, I hail from Lahore). In no time we became very friendly, a blend as it were, of ghee and khichdi (clarified butter and curried rice) and talked about our glorious city. The conversation released a flood of memories deeply impressed on my mind for decades. I have tried in these pages to commit them on paper.”

The Pakistan angle

And what is refreshing is that in the epilogue, written after he revisited Lahore after several decades, in 1997 and again in 1999, he does not indulge in bitterness or Pak-bashing.
Recently, on May 16 to be precise, I spoke to him in the backdrop of Nawaz Sharif coming to power in Pakistan. Was there, I wondered, a chance of improvement in Indo-Pak ties, and does he plan to take his musical concerts across the borders to the country of his birth?

“I plan to go to Pakistan around September this year,” he said, “and in all probability, I plan to show this documentary I have made there. It is called Indo Pak Musical Journey.”Pakeezah
He chatted on about the similarities in the cinema of the two countries. “When in India we made the film Anarkali, they later made the film in Pakistan with the same title. Then Pakistan made Pakeezah and Umrao Jaan, before these films were made in India (see pic on right). One Pakistani film, Naukar Woti Da, was copied in India totally, scene by scene. The only thing they did was change the title from Punjabi to Hindustani, making it Naukar Bibi Ka.”

I asked him how the common people of both countries could relate and co-exist, and he said, “The bureaucracy doesn’t seem interested in people connecting. What happened to those earlier talks of ‘no visas for senior citizens’? There are so many over 60 years of age keen to visit each other’s countries. All those promises of people visiting each other from across the border…the bureaucracy is not really bothered to see this happen.”

(Pictures courtesy www.thehindu.com, www.lahorelitfest.com, bollyspice.com) 

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