At Outlook we had been toying with the idea of a special issue on Hindi film music for a while, but hesitated for several reasons. Wouldn't it mean too much italicised text in the magazine? Wouldn't the translation of song titles into English sound awkward, even comic? Just how do you translate Ramaiyya vasta vaiyya into English?
Then there was the other big question: how to pin down a song's appeal? Isn't an individual's response to a song something extremely personal and private? The whole nation may have loved the ditties of Hum Aapke Hain Koun but they left you cold. The background score of Sholay might have been fantastic but you found its songs, including the universal favourite, Mehbooba mehbooba, banal. An entire generation swayed to My heart is beating in Julie but you promptly switched off the radio whenever it came on.
And then you loved this song few would know exists: Roz roz aankhon tale, ek hi sapna chale in some strange flick called Jeeva. Or Bandhne lagi in Ram Gopal Verma's otherwise highly unmusical Naach. Some might dismiss contemporary music as trash but that doesn't stop you from adoring Kajra re, or from humming Tu hi meri shab hai subah hai from Gangster. A Tarantino rip-off like Kaante managed to give you a pleasurable Yaar mangyasi rabba tainu ro ke and tucked away in Dev is what you think is a little gem—Tujh sang bandhi dor.
So how do you reach a consensus on a subject that's all about disagreements? Well, we decided to play on the differences. We invited the top honchos of the Bollywood music industry to give us their own, very personal, list of favourites. It almost poured songs—an indication that we have definitely made better music than movies. While there was one clear winner, there were as many as three songs jostling for second place, another three for the third spot; and an incredible 13 songs tying for the fourth place. The margins were as narrow as one vote and we had a Top 20 in place without even counting to ten.
However, hidden in the vast variety of our jury favourites was some concurrence as well: that Guide, with three of its songs in the hit list, may well be the most popular musical score; that the '60s has been the best decade for Hindi film music. That S.D. Burman, Shailendra, Rafi and Lata were just unbeatable. That Rahman might be the most nominated man among the composers of today, but if there's one contemporary song that's up there among the greats, it's Shankar-Ehsan-Loy's Har ghadi badal rahi hai roop zindagi.
So were we wrong? Can a song also help connect people as much as it separates them? I may never have been fond of Mahesh Bhatt movies but when he spontaneously sang (and very well at that) Dil yeh chahe aaj to baadal ban ud jaoon main during an interview for this issue, I couldn't help but soar along with him. I was happy to learn that Shyam Benegal liked the title track of Kal Ho Naa Ho as much as I did. And that people had heard and enjoyed the lovely Lata song from Gulzar's ill-fated, unreleased Libaas—Khamosh sa afsana paani se likha hota; na tumne kaha hota na humne suna hota.
The one thing our special issue reveals is that Hindi film songs speak to different people in different ways; it's about lots of songs, the people behind them; several voices and opinions, nostalgia and memories and flashes of angst as well. In the 75th year of Indian Talkies, it seems completely appropriate to celebrate the eternal appeal of the best Hindi film songs. Even if that has meant bringing out Outlook's most italicised issue ever, but without those awkward English translations.
