Maestro of haunting music: Khawaja Khurshid Anwar

The song and the musician A haunting melody stirs the strings of our soul. More than any other form of music, it moves us spiritually, bringing our sublime feelings to the fore. In the film industry, the music of some films such as Parwana (1947), Mahal (1949), Aawara (1951), Madhumati (1955), Sahib Bibi aur Ghulam (1962) and some more, had a captivating, apocalyptic and eerie feel. It must be clarified here that haunting music is not horror music. The former is alluring, mesmerising and captivating whereas the later is repulsive, scary and disturbing. The former attracts whereas the later repels. Sub-continent music industry has produced many musicians, such as Madan Mohan, Salil Chaudhari, Shankar-Jaikishen and some others, who have given us memorable haunting melodies. However, the prince of haunting music remains Khawaja Khurshid Anwar. He did not produce this genre of music for just one song or one film. In his professional life, he gave us a series of film adorned with haunting music. In fact, haunting music was his forte and that is testified by films such as Heer Ranjha, Koel, Intezar, Hamraz, Chingari, Jhoomer, Ghunghat and many more. KKA's life story is well documented. His father, Khawaja Ferozuddin Ahmad was a successful barrister from Lahore. A connoisseur of classical music, the elder Khawaja had amassed a great number of records and gave his son an unhindered access to these volumes. He also allowed his young son to attend the weekly musical evenings that were held at their spacious home in Lahore. His mother was the younger daughter of a famed medical doctor, whose elder daughter was the first of three wives of Allama Iqbal. KKA was born in 1912 in Mianwali, where his maternal grandfather was serving as a civil surgeon. He stayed with his maternal family for a few years as his father was away in London pursuing a law degree. In his childhood, he had played at Allama's home and remained a good friend of Allama's estranged elder son Barrister Aftab Iqbal. KKA's paternal grandfather was a deputy commissioner in East Punjab. He was thus born in a well established family and made good use of his affluent circumstances. KKA was a prodigious student and won the Gold Medal in Philosophy from Government College, Lahore in 1935. However, he had started nurturing revolutionary ideas at an early age. It is said that he was an associate of Bhagat Singh Shaheed in their violent endeavour to ferment an armed revolution. However, it is reported by some sources that when the group was apprehended, KKA was tricked into becoming an approver in the case. He was only nineteen at the time. His hatred for the foreign colonisers continued and having learnt that the British Chancellor was to award the gold medal for his MA, KKA abstained from the function. It is also said that he did not appear for his interview for Indian Superior Services because the interviewers were British. In the meantime, with his interest evoked at an early age, KKA stared learning music from Khansahib Tawakkal Hussain. He joined the Bombay film industry in 1941 as a music director. His first Punjabi movie titled Kur Nai (1941) and his first Urdu film, 'Ishara', were commercial hits. The rest, as they say, is history. He went on to create music for 28 films; 10 in India and the rest in Pakistan. In the late 1970s, he recorded classic music rendered by renowned classical singers and representatives of main Gharanas of classical singing. His magnum opus, title Raag Mala, for the future generations is collection of this music on audio tapes. KKA was disheartened by the status accorded to music in Pakistan. He was especially distressed at the idea that Indian music is a Hindu heritage. He tried to give the message that, on the contrary, the current form of Indian music has a Muslim background. This music came to India from Persia. One of the most notable Indian contributions in the field of music instruments is sitar that was invented by Amir Khusro, who also developed Qawali, a new genre in the realm of world music. KKA also reminded that Indian music was nourished and propagated by various Gharanas who were, for the most part, Muslims. He won a number of awards including Nigar award for music in 1962 for film Ghunghat, Sitara-a-Imtiaz in 1980 and Mortal-Men-Immortal-Melodies Award in 1982. Here, on the eve of his 107th birthday on 21 March, his work is recalled in the context of one of his most delicately conceived and fascinatingly enacted musical compositions. Before this song is described, a word about the poet who wrote its lyrics. The lyricist of the song was Tanvir Naqvi who died in 1972 at the rather young age of 53 years. Tanvir, whose real name, coincidently, too was Khurshid, i.e. Syed Khursheed Ali, was married to Eidan Bhai, an elder sister of Madam Noor Jehan. He was a fabulous lyricist, one of the best that we ever had in Pakistan. Before moving to Pakistan, he wrote songs for about 20 Indian films including for such memorable hits as Anmol Garhi and Jugnu. He was the lyricist for the first Pakistan made film named 'Teri Yaad'. He wrote memorable lyrics for such KKA films as Jhoomar, Koel and Ghunghat. His patriotic song 'Rang Laayega Shaheedon ka Lahoo' is perhaps the most heart rending national song ever penned in Urdu. His song titled 'Jadon holi jai lena mera naa' certainly has one of the best verses in Punjabi films. My ever favourite songs lyrics, written by him for film 'Azra', are "Jaan-e-Baharan, Rashk-e-chaman". I think few songs in the sub-continent film industry have such flowing and romantic wordings. KKA and Tanvir Naqvi made a creative duo. They also produced, as musician and writer, one of most heartfelt naats, titled 'jo na hota tera jamal hee". The song being described in this article here is titled 'Rahoon pey thari main, Nazrein jamaye' is written by Tanvir Naqvi for the 1962 film Ghunghat. It was a KKA film in entirety as he had the credits as co-producer, director, story writer, screenplay writer, music director and lyricist (for one of the songs). The other lyricists for the film included Faiz Ahmad Faiz and Habib Jalib. The song has the singular stamp of KKA in the haunting music, impassioned rendering and mournful enactment. The song opens with a desolate landscape in an uninhabited hilly area. Clouds rise from the surrounding valleys, as is peculiar to the hilly areas, arousing utterly gloom or warm romance, depending upon the viewer's state of mind. The sole sign of human presence in the opening scene is a dissipated temple in the right corner; clearly a ruined unkempt structure signifying an abandoned temple of love. The building is a one room structure. It has a window on the side wall with the rear wall completely bricked off giving a sense of entrapment. There is a steep sloping roof that is often seen on Hindu and Buddha temples. There is a covered veranda along the front door with a big significant bell hanging from its ceiling. The temple bell tolls incessantly, moving from side to side throughout the song, beckoning nonexistent worshippers. KKA allows 10 seconds to the viewers in the first scene to soak up the environment and grasps its meaning before displaying the victim of this tragic love. Nayyer Sultana appears from behind the temple, wearing a white sari, with her knee length loose hair rolling in the wind. She is garlanded in gloomy white flowers around neck, in ears and on wrists. The haunting tinkling bell dominates the setting as thin clouds swirl around the girl. KKA lets the scene roll for a full half a minute with the fluid clouds, sombre surroundings, the twirling girl and the jingling bells, drawing the viewers to get immersed in the unfolding story. Then come the saddened words, Rahoon pey thari main, nazreen jamaye Janam janam ki, pias bujhaye Koi aaye, koi aaye, koi aye "I plant my eyes on your footsteps. To quench my eternal thirst… Let my beloved come back to me" The stage is now set for the distressed call, Koi na Jane kab aaye "Who knows when may someone walk in? The words are not of hope. They express a longing. They are wistful cry of pain for a love that clearly belongs to the past. The waiting lament is nothing but an anguished cry. The woman is wearing white; the dress that signifies mourning for a love that is lost forever. The music, the wordings and the gestures do not specify whether the lover is dead or has only walked away. The bindya on her forehead is the indication that she has not torn the thread with the past; that there is a longing in her heart and a refusal to accept the reality that she is only trapped in her own fantasy. One thing is obvious though; that the love has gone to another world and is not coming back. The song is not about optimism; it is a requiem for a lost life, a buried past and an erasing memory. The subsequent words make it clear that the lover has gone out of her life since long in the years long past, Kitney baharan aaen, aa key gayeen Kitney zamaany beetay, akhian bichaye "Many springs came and went by Ages have passed but my eyes await." Even the appearance of a few friends on the scene to console the girl is a futile attempt, devoid of purpose. The song makes it certain that the agonies of the girl are perpetual and ceaseless. As the song ends, the clouds -of doubt if I may suggest- fade away and the girl is left standing in her eternal grief and gloom. For the distinct tinkling bells, the genius in KKA used Tubular bells. I am informed by his son, Irfan Khawaja, now settled in US, that while composing this song and looking for a sound that was in his mind, he learnt about the presence of these bells in a church in Kohat. He borrowed the set and used its sound in the song. The bells that KKA used are visible in the song itself for 16 seconds in the right foreground corner from time 2:38 to 2:54. They appear and dissipate with the consoling girlfriends. Such songs were not a show of light and sound. They were works of art and were carefully crafted with utmost thought and care. They carried subtle hints and gave calculated message. They were meant to spin a magic that had everlasting influence. They were not the after effects of a hurried brew, they were the euphoria of a vintage drink that left the imbiber with a longing for more. One can't get away from the hangover of such a heavenly drink or, in this case, an evergreen sweet melody. This article appeared in the weekly The Friday Times on 15th March 2019 Parvez Mahmood retired as a Group Captain from PAF and is now a software engineer. He lives in Islamabad and writes on historical and social issues. He can be reached at parvezmahmood53@gmail.com