Taken from Indian Express today's edition (emphasis mine)
The Deep Sound of the Mughals
The new Mughal-e-Azam’s digital soundtrack has brought Naushad, Shakeel Badayuni, Lata Mangeshkar and Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan to contemporary magnificence
ASHWINI DESHPANDE
Posted online: Thursday, March 17, 2005 at 0000 hours IST
‘‘Timeless classic’’, ‘‘epic’’, ‘‘legend’’, ‘‘immortal’’, ‘‘breathtaking’’, ‘‘grand’’, ‘‘magnificent’’... K Asif’s Mughal-e-Azam is all this and more. Words typically fail to convey the multi-faceted splendour of the film that excels in every department of filmmaking: acting, story, screenplay, cinematography, costume, dialogue and songs (lyrics, music and singing). The fantastic run of the re-created version is ample testimony to the eternal appeal of the film: in the first two weeks of its opening, it grossed over Rs 1 crore in Mumbai and Delhi alone and the number of prints in circulation had to be increased after the first week since distributors had not expected young people to watch the film in such large numbers. Re-created and colourised at a cost of Rs 5 crore, one of biggest box-office hits of all times is already scaling new heights of popularity.
Much has been written about the film itself; this piece is mainly about its music. With a composer like Naushad Ali, lyricist like Shakeel Badayuni, and singers like Lata Mangeshkar, Shamshad Begum and the classical maestro Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, it represents one of the pinnacles of the golden era of Hindi film music.
Other than the use of colour that has lent it a quaint calendar art quality, one of the major highlights of the new version is the re-recording of the original soundtrack, in which Naushad’s son, Raju, has been involved. The original solo vocal tracks have been mixed with fresh instrumental and chorus vocal tracks, recreated by contemporary musicians, and re-recorded in Dolby Digital. There is a view that despite the best efforts, the resultant sound is not as good as the original since there is a mismatch between the quality of the solo tracks and the sharpness/ clarity of the contemporary tracks. Personally, for audio alone, I too prefer the original soundtrack, since the vocal and instrumental tracks blend together perfectly. Also, some of the instrumentalists in the original soundtrack were very skilled, such as Ramlal on the shehnai.
However, for the audio-visual experience with digital surround sound, the effect of the new soundtrack is quite magical, suited as it is to the techniques of contemporary projection. One would go to the extent of recommending seeing the film on the big screen only to soak in the new sound.
There are several reasons why the film’s soundtrack is outstanding. The foremost is the virtuosity of its music director, Naushad, who has fabulous scores to his credit: Baiju Bawra, Anmol Ghadi, Ganga Jamuna, Dulari, Shabab, Mother India, Mere Mehboob, to mention some of his very best. However, it is believed that the composer regards Mughal-e-Azam as his life’s best work and it is not difficult to see why. Naushad’s genius lies in creating music that is a fine balance between the classical and the popular: his most popular songs are firmly rooted in Hindustani classical music in a way that they showcase the intricacies of the raga without becoming heavy or inaccessible.
In Mughal-e-Azam too, he manages this complex balance with great flourish, whether it is Mohe panghat pe (Raga Mishra Gara); Bekas pe karam kijiye (Raga Kedar) or Mohabbat ki jhuti (Raga Darbari). Two of the songs are explicitly classical, sung by the Patiala gharana maestro, Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan — his first foray into film singing. Legend has it that Naushad was going to leave no stone unturned to get Khansahib to be Mian Tansen’s voice in the film and is believed to have paid an astronomical price of Rs 25,000 per song, fifty times more than the remuneration of the highest-paid artist of the time, Lata Mangeshkar. Shubha din aayo (Raga Rageshri) most appropriately heralds Prince Salim’s arrival home after years in the battlefield. Prem jogan ban ke (Raga Sohni) is the backdrop to one of the most erotic and memorable sequences in the history of Hindi cinema: the nightly tryst between the lovers, as Dilip Kumar strokes Madhubala’s face with a feather in an intimate close-up.
However, the crowning glory of this soundtrack is Lata Mangeshkar’s singing. One commentator has rightly remarked that in Mughal-e-Azam, ‘‘every hyperbole ever put forward about Lata’s singing seems entirely appropriate.’’ She is not only technically excellent, as she executes Naushad’s fusion of the classical and the popular to perfection, but is also emotionally evocative. Pyar kiya to darna kya is arguably the most well-known, both for its defiant spirit as well as its superb and difficult picturisation. In the lines, Chhup na sakega ishq hamara, charon taraf hai unka nazara, the challenge was to show a thousand images of Madhubala in the glass-studded ceiling, without letting the glass reflect images of the filming equipment. My personal favourites, however, are Mohe panghat pe and the poignant Bekas pe karam kijiye, (the latter, along with two other songs, has unfortunately been dropped from the new screen version for inexplicable reasons).
The beauty of the singing is enhanced manifold on the screen by the mesmerising Madhubala, whose portrayal exemplifies how defiance and rebelliousness could be subtle and powerful simultaneously. Her defeat is a given, and she is well aware of it, but that does not prevent her from challenging the ultimate authority, the Emperor of India.
Shamshad Begum is the other female singer who matches Lata perfectly in the qawwali, Teri mehfil mein qismat azmakar. Mohammad Rafi was Naushad’s most favourite male singer. In this film, however, Rafi has only one song: Ae mohabbat zindabad. This could be because, in a deviation from the standard film format, not a single song has been picturised on Dilip Kumar, the male lead. Despite being a die-hard Rafi fan, this song is personally my least favorite, even though this is regarded as a milestone of sorts. The use of a 100-member chorus for this song was a first and the idea was to showcase the elasticity of Rafi’s voice, especially his incredible ability to hit the high notes.
Shakeel Badayuni, the lyricist of all of Naushad’s songs for 18 years at a stretch (barring one film, Andaz (1949)), has proven himself, yet another time, to be the classic wordsmith and a master of languages, from the classical Brij (Mohe panghat pe) to chaste Urdu/ Hindustani (Khudaa nigehbaan ho or Bekas). The strength of Shakeel’s film lyrics lies in their visual appeal and in the powerful link between the song, the storyline and the situation in the film where the song is located.
Despite all these attributes, Mughal-e-Azam lost the Filmfare Best Music Award to Dil Apna aur Preet Parai — one of those twists of history that are difficult to explain, particularly in retrospect. Hopefully, the repeated accolades and the immense enduring popularity of this classic soundtrack far outweighs the error of judgement of the award jury.
The writer is an economist and teaches at Delhi School of Economics