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From: ameghani@bnr.ca (Amin Meghani)
Newsgroups: rec.music.indian.misc
Subject: RDB: THE MAN IN THE MUSICIAN
Date: 31 Mar 1994 09:59:04 -0600
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Hi RMIMers. I've been meaning to post this very special article for a while
 but couldn't find the time. It's a loving tribute to Pancham by one of his
 closest friends and colleagues: Gulzar. 

They were friends during their days of struggle and associates as well when
 they they made it big. Gulzar remembers their days of laughter and music.


                        AND NOW THERE IS SILENCE...
 
                                 by Gulzar
 
                                 
Part 1: THE MAN IN THE MUSICIAN
                                                      
We knew each other from the moment we were hopefuls. We were assistants--he to
 his father and I to Bimal Roy. When SD would come with his compositions, his son
 would come carrying a "dagga". He'd be wearing shorts the way kids wear Bermudas
 today. 

My first lyric for Sachinda was "Mora gora ang lai le". Pancham would be there.
 Shailendra did the other lyrics for BANDINI. And Pancham would encourage me--go
 meet baba, go and talk to him. He'd invite me to their apartment in the
 one-storey building, 'Jet', on Linking Road. Today there's a tall building
 over that one-storey structure. I don't know who stays there now, Sachinda was
 there till his end.

Pancham was three-four years younger than me. He was always a kid, he remained 
one. He was fond of pranks, of colorful clothes and especially of the color red.
 He had a nickname for me--'safed kavva'. He'd phone, if I wasn't at home he'd 
leave a message, "Tell 'safed kavva' that 'lal kavva' had called." 

His sense of humor was his very own. He knew Asha Bhonsle was very particular
 about keeping the house clean; so he sent her a gift--two big brooms in bright
 wrapping paper.

One of his passions, besides music, was cooking. He grew chillies in his terrace
 garden--as many as 40 varieties, cross-breeding them to get new exotic tastes.
 Ashaji now wonders, "Who'll look after his plants? He's gone."

If a friend was going abroad, he'd ask him to get back some soup packets.
 Like he asked Rahi Sabarwal of Air India to bring him some soup packets which 
you can only find in Hong Kong...Pancham even sent him a telegram, "Don't forget
 my soup." The telegram was signed Soup Lover.

As young men in our 20s, we shared many common interests--interests in
 home-cooked food and in sports. He was a soccer fanatic, he was a true Mohan
 Baganian, he'd get into heated arguments with (director) Gogi Anand over soccer.
 Yet Gogi remained Pancham's friend till the end.

Pancham married Jyoti. It was a love marriage, but I think it didn't work out
 because they were two very different people. He was immersed into films and
 music; he'd spend long hours away from home in the recording studio of Film
 Centre. He was so obsessed with his work that he had little time for any other
 love in his life. 

Pancham was a terrific mouth-organ player; he played the organ in his father's
 orchestra. And he was an outstanding sarod player too...he had trained under
 Ustad Ali Akbar Khan.

Pancham would have his differences with his father. But he was Sachinda's only
 child, he was the pampered one. And he could get pretty possessive about his 
father. They hailed from a royal family; for them it was a matter of pride that
 they had carved out their own little kingdoms with their music.

There'd be good-natured bantering between them. "Baba," Pancham would pout,
 "you don't give me enough pocket money." And Sachinda would laugh back,
 "Oi Pancham, when are you going to contribute to the kitchen expenses?"
 Whenever the son would try to shuffle out quietly from the music room, 
Sachinda would say, "Jao jao, I know you want to smoke a cigarette."

Pancham would frequently compose his tunes in the course of car drives. He'd
 hum, we'd reach Film Centre and he'd say, "OK, you go home now, I've got the
 tune in my head. I'll try it out with the musicians." If he was especially
 excited about a tune, he'd scream with joy. He never kept his happiness within
 himself, he shared the moments of ecstasy with others.

Pancham would keep the actor's face in mind while working on a composition.
 He'd tell me that, at times, he thought of my face while conjuring a tune--which
 I thought was a great compliment.

{Excerpted from FILMFARE, 2/94}

Coming up... Part 2:GULZAR,RD AND ASHA: THE WINNING COMBINATION


--Amin