RMIM Archive Article "231".
From the RMIM Article Archive maintained by Satish Subramanian
#
# RMIM Archives..
# Subject: Gulzar- a sense of music
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# Author: Gowri Ramnarayan
# Source: The Hindu
# This article belongs to online "The Hindu" newspaper.
#
# Please check the "The Hindu" html pages, at:
# http://www.webpage.com/hindu/daily
#
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Gulzar: A sense of music
Gowri Ramnarayan
The Hindu
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Gulzar's claim to fame does not rest only on his contribution to
the Hindi film industry but also on his poetry and children's
books. GOWRI RAMNARAYAN speaks to Gulzar on his love for music
and on his latest film "Maachis."
Let's cup up a vein or let's just stand on forgotten cross roads
and call out someone's name; come let's make a poem.
His warm hearted, middle of the road films (``Mere Apne''
``Parichay'' ``Koshish,'' ``Aandhi,'' ``Ijaazat,'' ``Lekin'') may
have given him a national reputation. But readers of Hindi and
Urdu recognise Gulzar as a poet, and author of the children's
books he wrote every year to mark his daughter's birthday.
Born in Dina (now in Pakistan), into a conservative family of
businessmen, Gulzar was forced to hide his interest in the arts
from disapproval and hostility. The family associated music with
courtesans and poetry with nincompoops.
At 60 Gulzar may describe himself as an ``antique piece.'' But
there is nothing passe about his latest film ``Matches''
depicting the turmoil of Punjab in 1984, where ``dampness'' makes
it impossible to spark the hearts of the people. He autographs
``Silences,'' his book of poems, ``with music and love.'' For
Gulzar there is no difference between the two.
* * *
``In India music is all around us in our daily lives. For me it
started in childhood with mother's morning prayers, chants from
the temple and gurdwara across the road. Our saints were poets
and singers, Nanak was a great poet who wrote the guruvani
specifying the raags for every verse. Our pandits intersperse
their religious discourses with songs. The azaan from the mosque
has a haunting magnetism, the notes are from Bhairavi. Our
languages are musical _ Sanskrit can hypnotise you. I remember
also the folk songs of the women labourers coming out after their
shifts in the Birla Mills near sabzi mandi in Delhi where I
lived. The images I carry with me are strongly aural.
I also listened to Hindustani music being practised in
neighbours' homes. The stringed instruments attracted me and when
I went to college I attended the concerts of Ravi Shankar and Ali
Akbar Khan.
By that time I had frightened my traditional family with my
interest in music. There was no question of being permitted to
learn the sitar as I desperately wanted to do. But they couldn't
stop me from writing poetry _ pen and paper could be used in
secret.
I have come to realise that if you are born with a certain
sensitivity, you find an outlet for it. It takes a while before
you learn the skills to use your medium. I found in poetry a good
way of expressing myself. That sense of music, my feeling for
sound and rhythm guide my choice of words, metres, phrases, even
images and colours. I do go to exhibitions of paintings but it is
music which shades the finer thoughts. It is close to the inner
being and gives you spiritual peace, develops concentration. My
regular companions on long trips are cassettes of classical music
- Hindustani and Western.
The abstractions of music pulsate with passion. As a poet and
lyricist I want to bring that into my words.
I know that rhythm is vital to film making. The songs are just
interludes _ the equivalent of the pandit breaking off from story
telling with an ``arthaat'' (which means) to insert a song.
Slowly I tune my film, lay down the surface and ambience, settle
my characters on location before beginning the narration. I
improvise within the scales, avoiding the wrong notes.
More obviously, I try to use classical music in my films and in
this I was lucky to have had excellent rapport with my music
directors, especially Pancham (R. D. Burman). With Salil
Chowdhury it was a great chance to learn about classical and folk
music from many parts of the world. He could show you how the
boatman's song was similar, whether on the Volga or the
Brahmaputra. I made films on Bhimsen Joshi and Amjad Ali Khan,
not to tell others about them, but for me to learn how a musician
initiates himself into the melody. What a memorable experience it
was to work with Ravi Shanker in ``Meera''! With all that
tradition behind him, he is a modern man.
Since ``Lekin'' has no narrative and was set in the past in
Rajasthan, I could go into original and authentic sources of
classical music which added another dimension to the film. From
Hridaynath Mangeshkar who scored for it, I learnt about the old
traditional ``bandishes'' of which he has a treasured collection
from his father's time.
You want to know if I ever did learn music...? When I was
shooting for ``Parichay'' with Sanjeev Kumar I noticed that he
was holding the sitar wrong, only to be dismissed by the expert
on location that ``Film men chalta hai'', (its okay in a film).
That annoyed me so I started learning the sitar, and continued
for eight years. I find that film making and writing are easier
if I can tap the musicality within me.
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From the RMIM Article Archive maintained by Satish Subramanian