{"id":1280,"date":"2015-08-18T00:20:13","date_gmt":"2015-08-17T18:50:13","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/?p=1280"},"modified":"2025-12-16T23:52:19","modified_gmt":"2025-12-16T18:22:19","slug":"gulzar-multi-faceted-director","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/learningandcreativity.com\/silhouette\/gulzar-multi-faceted-director\/","title":{"rendered":"Gulzar: Redefining Poetry and Purpose In Cinema"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Gulzar

Gulzar at the launch of Jagjit Singh’s album Tera Bayaan Ghalib. Pic courtesy: Bollywoodhungama<\/a><\/p><\/div>\n

Bahut khoobsurat hai har baat lekin
\nAgar dil bhi hota to kya baat hoti
\nLikhi jaati phir daastaan-e-muhabbat
\nEk afasaane jaise mulaaqaat hoti<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

Khoobsurat<\/em> is a word that aptly fits Gulzar Saab… his poetry, his lyrics, his films and dialogues. Each story that he crafted on screen was born out of love for literature and poetry and the cinematic medium, each song that he wove spoke of love and life in its various facets.<\/p>\n

For this multi-faceted genius, roles sit easily on his shoulders – poet, lyricist, film director, dialogue-writer. In each of these roles he set benchmarks of excellence. The acclaimed filmmaker-lyricist has been a winner of several prestigious film awards, including the country’s highest film honour the Dada Saheb Phalke Award, the National Award (five times) and also the Oscar for the Best Original Score for \u201cJai Ho\u201d<\/em> song from Slumdog Millionaire<\/em> along with AR Rahman and Sukhwinder Singh.<\/p>\n

The concepts, stylisation, processes and technology may have undergone a sea change in the area of filmmaking in India, but Gulzar Saab’s films, poetry and songs continue to cut across generations – appealing to those who thrive in the golden era of Indian cinema and also to the Gen-X that lives in the now.<\/p>\n

Mora gora ang lai le<\/em> – the beginning of the journey<\/strong><\/h2>\n
\"\"

Gulzar
(Pic: Google Image Search)<\/p><\/div>\n

Born on 18 August 1934 as Sampooran Singh Kalra, Gulzar, known by his pen name, was fascinated by literary works of Tagore, Premchand and Urdu poets since his student days and read up everything he could lay his hands on. While working as an administrator in a motor garage Vichare Motors in Bombay Central, his friend Raghunath Jhalani (then working with Bimal Roy Productions) introduced him to Bimal Roy’s assistant Debu Sen. Through Debu Sen, Basu Bhattacharya and Salil Chowdhury, Gulzar got involved with the Bengal school of filmmaking. As destiny would have it, Debu Sen took him one day to Bimal Roy when the master filmmaker was on the lookout for a lyricist for Bandini<\/em> as lyricist Shailendra and music director Sachin Dev Burman were having a difference of opinion and work on the film’s music had grounded to a halt.<\/p>\n

Writes Saibal Chatterjee in his biography of Gulzar, Echoes and Eloquences: The Life and Cinema of Gulzar<\/em>:<\/a><\/p>\n

“Bimal Roy ordered Debu Sen to look for a new lyricist who could strike the fine balance between the Bengali ambience of the film’s narrative and rich timbre of Vaishnavite poetry.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

How it happened is an interesting story. As Chatterjee explains,<\/p>\n

“Gulzar was duly summoned. Pointing to the poet, the avuncular Roy asked Debu in Bengali a tad incredulously: “Bhadralok ki Vaishnav kobita janen<\/em> (Does the gentleman understand Vaishnavite poetry)?” Debu smiled and told Bimalda that Gulzar was conversant with Bengali. The veteran director was distinctly embarrassed. He turned to the twenty-something poet and asked: “Gana likhna hai<\/em> (Do you want to write a song)?” Gulzar’s reply was\u00a0 a prompt and unequivocal no. His intrinsic aversion to a career in films was still intact.<\/p>\n

So the Bandini stalemate continued. A desperate Debu sent a word to Shailendra himself seeking intervention. Shailendra knew Gulzar because of their common association with the Bombay Youth Choir. When the established lyricist\u00a0 heard that Gulzar’s reluctance sprang from a disdain for the film industry folk, he indignantly confronted the latter. “What do you think you are! Your snooty attitude is absolutely ridiculous. Do you think everybody who works in films is a fool?” The words stung Gulzar to the quick. He relented and agreed to write the song.<\/p>\n

The bewitchingly lilting Mora gora ang lai le<\/em> was born after five days of concerted effort. “I actually wrote the song pretty quickly,” recalls Gulzar. “But it took me a while to polish it.” When the song was ready, Gulzar recited it to SD Burman. The latter was hugely pleased with the young poet’s effort. Having secured the music composer’s approval, Gulzar told him that he would now show the song to Bimalda.<\/p>\n

Sachinda asked Gulzar: “Tumhe gaana aata hai<\/em> (Can you sing)?”<\/p>\n

“No,” Gulzar replied, “I cannot.”<\/p>\n

So Sachinda forbade Gulzar to take the song to Bimal Roy. “I will sing it to him myself,” was his diktat. “Arre, tum jaisa taisa sunaiga aur hamara tune reject ho jayega<\/em> (You will sing badly and my tune will get rejected),” he said with boyish nervousness. Here was one of the greatest music directors ever to have showered his creativity on Hindi films worrying about a tune of his being shot down. “That was how humble Sachinda was,” says Gulzar.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Mora Gora Ang Layile<\/i>, picturised on Nutan in Bandini<\/a> (1963) pitchforked Gulzar into the limelight and signalled the beginning of his journey as a lyricist of high repute. The rest of the songs of Bandini<\/em> were written by Shailendra once he and SD Burman patched up but the fair-minded Bimal Roy offered him the job of a full-fledged assistant director as he was working on a Hindi adaptation of Tagore’s Kabuliwala<\/em> then since Gulzar wasn’t keen on being a lyricist. “A briefest of brief pep talks (from Bimal Roy) changed Gulzar’s life forever,” writes Chatterjee.<\/p>\n

Mora gora ang lai le<\/em><\/strong> (Bandini<\/em>, 1963)<\/span><\/p>\n