My “now” song: Nimbonichya zadamage

Do you ever have a song, an idea, a storyline, or an image stuck in your head? And it just refuses to go away? For some time at least? I have this with music—it could be a song, an instrumental piece, a jingle, etc. This becomes my “now’”song, and the “nowness”  (pardon my English here) could be for any length of time.

I am in a sentimental mood these days. My niece spent a few days with us last week. This stay was very significant as she begins college next week and won’t be able to spend time with us for some time. We had a lovely time together — saw a movie, shopped for some “college wear” clothes for her, ate ice cream and donuts, watched silly TV serials and laughed ourselves sillier … We also talked a lot about everything and nothing in particular.

One of the things we spoke about was the angaai (the Marathi word for a lullaby). And I was reminded of “Nimbonichya zadamage…”, a very popular angaai or lullaby from the Marathi film Bala gau kashi angaai. Sung by Suman Kalyanpur, this lullaby is picturised on Asha Kale, as she sings it to her niece in the film.

I used to sing this lullaby to my niece, especially when she would stubbornly refuse to go to sleep. I can’t say that the angaai succeeded, but I would like to believe that my she liked it then. Even after all these years, my dear niece still does not sleep easily, and definitely would not appreciate an angaai today. But she did not mind when I sang a few lines of that song to her last week !

It’s a song that reminds me, that she’s all grown up (well, almost !), and entering an exciting phase of her life. It’s a song that has a lot of sentiments attached to it. And it’s a song that I’m still singing, as it has become my “now” song. 🙂

My “now” song: Zindagi mere ghar aana

Do you ever have a song, an idea, a storyline, or an image stuck in your head? And it just refuses to go away? For some time at least? I have this with music—it could be a song, an instrumental piece, a jingle, etc. This becomes my “now’”song, and the “nowness”  (pardon my English here) could be for any length of time.

Yesterday was a rare day at home. I actually got control of the TV remote, and so after the first few minutes of savouring the power of having the TV remote in my hand, I got down to what one does best with it — surf channels. One of the channels I halted at was a music channel which had a programme on songs beginning with the word “Zindagi”. The half hour programme saw some of the more popular and well known “Zindagi” songs getting  discussed and screened.

As I watched the “Zindagi” songs play across the screen, a long-forgotten “Zindagi” number stirred in the depths of my memories and slowly uncoiled itself and before long I had muted the TV volume and was singing Zindagi mere ghar aana, from the 1979 film Dooriyan.

I first heard this song, which is sung by Bhupendra Singh and Anuradha Paudwal, on Binaca Geetmala around the time it was released. I had loved this song even then and would often be found humming or singing along when the song was aired. Soon other songs displaced it and this song got relegated to the deep, vast recesses of my memory. Only to have it resurrected with the programme on “Zindagi” songs. I find that I still like the lilting tune, and today I can even appreciate the simple, romantic lyrics.

So, tell me, has this post triggered off memories of any “Zindagi” song that you like? And do you have any favourite “Zindagi” song? Do share. 🙂

My “now” song: Baabul moraa naihar chhooto hi jaaye

Do you ever have a song, an idea, a storyline, or an image stuck in your head? And it just refuses to go away? For some time at least? I have this with music—it could be a song, an instrumental piece, a jingle, etc. This becomes my “now’”song, and the “nowness”  (pardon my English here) could be for any length of time.

My now song is the immortal melody in Raga Bhairavi, “Baabul mora naihar chhooto hi jaye”. A popular song in Hindi films, mehfils and among thumri singers, many renderings are available to listen too. Some of the more popular ones are by Jagjit and Chitra Singh, Pt. Bhimsen Joshi and K.L. Saigal. And it was Saigal’s version which really made this song popular.

But the version I like and am sharing with you here is sung by Alisha Chinai to the accompaniment of L. Subramaniam’s violin.

I like this version for the jugalbandi of Alisha’s haunting melody, so unlike her other (better known) popular numbers, and for L. Subramaniam’s violin, with both artistes reinforcing and complementing one another, as well as the sombre mood of the song.

This lament was written by Nawab Wajid Ali Shah, Nawab of Awadh when he was exiled from Lucknow by the British Raj after the failed Revolt of 1857. In this song, the Nawab uses bidaai (bride’s farewell) from her babul (natal home) as a metaphor for his own banishment from his beloved Lucknow, to far away Calcutta, while he spent the rest of his life.

Do listen to the version I have given here and also the versions by other artistes (you can listen to their version by clicking on their names). Which one did you like?

My “now” song: Yesterday once more

Do you ever have a song, an idea, a storyline, or an image stuck in your head? And it just refuses to go away? For some time at least? I have this with music—it could be a song, an instrumental piece, a jingle, etc. This becomes my “now’”song, and the “nowness”  (pardon my English here) could be for any length of time.

My now song is “Yesterday once more” by The Carpenters from their 1973 album Now & Then and written by Richard Carpenter and John Bettis.

Along with the heat and humidity, the summer brings on nostalgia for me. Of summers spent with my maternal grandparents in Mumbai. Of golden mangoes, chilled sugarcane juice and bhelpuri. Of cricket and hide & seek with cousins and friends. Of Pallankuzhi and stories with Paati. Of reading story books in the hot afternoons. Of listening to the radio and singing along . . .

I was thinking about all this while travelling to work by bus today morning. And almost on cue, as if approving of my nostalgic thoughts, a co-passenger’s mobile phone rang. Can you guess what the ringtone was? Yesterday once more. 😀

So what nostalgic memories (and songs) do you associate with summers? Tell, tell 🙂

My “now” song: Maula maula maula mere maula

Do you ever have a song, an idea, a storyline, or an image stuck in your head? And it just refuses to go away? For some time at least? I have this with music—it could be a song, an instrumental piece, a jingle, etc. This becomes my “now’”song, and the “nowness”  (pardon my English here) could be for any length of time.

My “now” song is Maula maula maula mere maula (or Arziyan) from the film Delhi 6, sung by Kailash Kher and Javed Ali with lyrics by Prasoon Joshi and music by A.R. Rehman.

This song is very special to me. Alone and homesick in London, this was a great song to calm and comfort me. It was also a song that helped me through dissertation angst and other course work as well. This song also transcended language barrier and had my Arabic- and Chinese-speaking friends hooked to it.

And back home in India, the song still continues to calm and comfort and support and inspire me as ever before.

Enjoy. 🙂

My “now” song: Kangna in Raga Malkauns

Do you ever have a song, an idea, a storyline, or an image stuck in your head? And it just refuses to go away? For some time at least? I have this with music—it could be a song, an instrumental piece, a jingle, etc. This becomes my ‘now’ song, and the “nowness”  (pardon my English here) could be for any length of time.

My now song is “Kangna” by Fareed Ayaz and Abu Mohammad. Do watch the video and listen to the song before you read the rest of the post.

One of my colleagues, AS, is an amateur musician. Thanks to him, I get to listen to a wide range of music and though not all the genres are unfamiliar, some of the artistes definitely are, like this one.

Fareed Ayaz and Abu Muhammad are brothers and qawwali singers from Pakistan and this short 16-minute piece in Raga Malkauns is mind-blowing, particularly the first 4 minutes. I have always found Raga Malkauns to be sombre and serious, but this rendering was so different—mischievous and light-hearted. I also like the way some Farsi lines have been woven with the traditional brajbhasha lyrics. And I am amazed how Fareed Ayaz is able to sing with a mouth full of paan !

I like this song so much that I am listening to this song even as I type out this post.  Thanks, AS, for recommending this song 🙂