Book Review: R. D. Burman: The Man, The Music

The book review as a tribute to RD Burman (27.6.1939-4.1.1994) on his 31^st Remembrance Day

R. D. Burman: The Music, The Man
Authors: Anirudha Bhattacharjee & Balaji Vittal
Publisher: HarperCollins India, 2011
ISBN: 978-93-5029-049-1
Pages: 342+24 (Index, Acknowledgements)
Price: Amazon (Paperback): ₹399

I have to admit I am an R. D. Burman-skeptic; in fact, I belong to the cohort which considers RD Burman too loud, and responsible for destroying the melody of the Golden Era of music making. Yet I have no hesitation in saying that “R. D. Burman: The Music, The Man” is an outstanding book. The authors are unabashed fans of RD Burman, yet the book is not too hagiographic. They declare they didn’t want to write a biography either. But while discussing RD Burman’s music, they discuss the man too, and it has everything you expect from a good biography. The book is written in a lucid style, and is full of interesting trivia about songs, films and related things. They know a good deal about technical aspects of music, I find on Amazon reviews someone was put off by the technical details. I am illiterate in music, but I am not put off. I have become the authors’ admirers, at least they know what they are saying. That is not to say they have made me an RDB-convert. Then why this review at all?

Even though RD Burman debuted with Chhote Nawab (1961), I slotted him as a post-1970 phenomenon. Therefore, in the series of detailed coverage of the music directors of the Golden Era, after Kalyanji-Anandji and Usha Khanna, I had intended to take up Laxmikant-Pyarelal. In my mind even though they debuted two years later with Parasmani (1963), they remained firmly rooted in the Golden Era-style of music making. They instantly reached the top bracket; they worked with the traditional playback singers; they had no obsession with experimenting with different kinds of sound and percussion instruments, or any particular singer. It is a testimony to LP’s stature that some readers were expecting them after Kalyanji-Anandji. However, RDB was senior to LP not only in chronology, they were also his assistants in Chhote Nawab. I could not ignore the fact that many consider RDB a legend and it would have been quite awkward to skip him and go to LP. So I dedicate the year 2025 to RD Burman on his 31st Remembrance Day, and I thought the best way to start is with his biography by the present authors which has got rave reviews.

“The Chhote Nawab”
After the foreword, introduction etc. the book starts with quite an interesting title: “The Chhote Nawab”. True to the title of the book, this is as much about the man, as about his music. RD Burman was a bit of a chhote nawab – a happy-go-lucky person, completely disinterested in studies, and also non-serious in learning music. When SD Burman shifted to Bombay in 1944, he left RD Buman behind to complete his musical education under Pt. Bhishmdev Chottopadhyay and Ustad Ali Akbar Khan. Worried about the wayward lifestyle of his son, when SD Burman heard that Ustad Ali Akbar Khan was going to set up his music academy in Bombay, SD Burman called his son over to Bombay to remain under his watch. A non-serious learner, RD Burman was innately musical, he grasped enough of Indian classical music to understand its nuances. He started assisting SD Burman. At the same time his fascination with Western instruments, Jazz, European, Middle-Eastern, Arabic, Latino music, and his experiments with various kinds of drums and percussion instruments continued. He showed his grasp with both styles of music in his debut film Chhote Nawab (1961) with an extremely melodious song in Raag Malgunji, Ghar aaja ghir aayi badra sanwariya; and a funky club dance-song Matwali aankhonwale, O albele dilwale dil tera ho rahega, gar tu ise apna le with some strange yodelling and a variety of western instruments.

The film and its music were a middling success. RD Burman did not get any offers for four years. His next film was also a Mahmood production, he also directed the movie Bhoot Bangla (1965), in which RD Burman had a cameo role of a glutton. The movie and its music were a disaster. A year earlier, Dosti (1964) was offered to Laxmikant-Pyarelal. They had a huge respect for RD Burman. On their request he played the harmonica in its songs like Janewalo zara mud ke dekho mujhe. In fact, RD Burman was an acknowledged expert in playing the harmonica, and he is known to have played it in several compositions of SD Burman, such as Hai apna dil to aawara.

At this point the authors put to rest the controversy created by SD Burman-fans and RD Burman-fans who try to debunk one or the other by giving the credit of a particular song officially composed by one to the other. They were a musical family and they discussed with each other and were inspired by each other. In this scenario, it is impossible to segregate who inspired whom in a particular composition. It is like the guessing game in trying to give credit to an assistant music director for a particular famous song, or to one or the other in a song composed by a duo. The music director is credited for the music of a film, and that is that.

Which was the third film of RD Burman? Coincidentally, it was Teesra Kaun (1966). Its Mukesh-Lata Mangeshkar duet, Pyar ka fasana bana le dil deewana, became very popular. This was the first time Mukesh sang for RD Burman. They collaborated together only in about fifteen songs, most of which were very popular. In the same year came Pati Patni (1966) with main stars like Sanjeev Kumar-Nanda-Mahmood -Mumtaz. I can’t do better than borrowing the authors’ words, “Pati Patni could be questioned for its lack of sanity, barring the music which found Rahul Dev Burman in a mood to experiment in his favourite area – rhythm.” Its song Kajre badarwa re marzi teri hai kya zaalima got some traction.

And the rest is history! This cliché was never more true than RD Burman’s next film Teesri Manzil (1966) and the authors narrate an interesting story how it came about. Nasir Husain had earlier signed Dev Anand for the film. SD Burman was the natural choice as a music director. As he was unwell, he suggested RD Burman in his place. Majrooh Sultanpuri, a Nasir Husain-regular strongly pitched for him. Vijay Anand was not averse to trying him, and Nasir Husain was also open about it. As it was conflicting with his dream project Guide, Dev Anand decided to pull out and in came Shammi Kapoor. He was the Monarch and his word was a command those days. He would have only Shankar-Jaikishan or OP Nayyar. RD Burman had to go through quite an audition. Fortunately, some songs had been recorded by then. On hearing O haseena zulfonwali, Shammi Kapoor okayed him. RD Burman also gives credit for the path-breaking music of Teesri Manzil to the prominent members of his ‘Team’ who became regular with him, such as Basu, Manohari, Kersi Lord, Homi Mullan and Bhanu Gupta.

“The Pancham Manzil”
The authors carry forward the discussion on Teesri Manzil in the next chapter titled – in an interesting play of words – as “The Pancham Manzil”. Pancham is, of course, the nickname of RD Burman; as the story goes, as an infant he wailed in the notes of ‘Pancham’, the fifth note of the Indian scale of music; hence SD Burman decided to call him Pancham. The title perhaps also refers to the stratospheric levels RD Burman’s score reached and also took the film to that level. At this stage the authors make an interesting observation that we must laud the Bollywood makers of suspense thrillers who had the additional burden of adding superlative dance and songs without for one moment creating a feeling of the songs acting as a drag on the suspense. I was trying to figure out if it was a tongue-in-cheek statement, but they said it in a matter-of-fact manner. Goldie’s direction comes in for high praise, the authors mention scenes where Hitchcock’s influence can be traced from specific films. RD Burman’s next film Baharon Ke Sapne (1967), starring Rajesh Khanna and Asha Parekh, failed commercially despite some excellent songs like Aaja piya tohe pyar dun (Lata Mangeshkar) and a superb Manna Dey-Lata Mangeshkar duet Chunri sambhal gori, udi chali jaye re (Rajesh Khanna was a couple of years away from becoming a Phenomenon). Chandan Ka Palna in the same year and its music by RD Burman, both sank without trace.

Next year again a path-breaking film with superlative music, Padosan (1968), came. Talking about the iconic Ek chatur naar, the authors describe how it was a cleverly mixed, not so obvious medley of songs. The first line is from a song sung by Ashok Kumar in Raag Jhinjhoti in the film Jhoola (1941), Dekhi teri chaturai is a parody of a bhajan by Vishnupant Phagnis, Ban chale Ram Raghurai from the film Sant Tulsidas (1939), and Kaga re ja re ja re, a parody of Lata Mangeshkar’s Chanda re ja re ja re from Ziddi (1948). But Abhilasha in the same year was a commercial washout.

RD Burman’s story of great music, followed by disappointments continued in the 60s till we come to Kati Patang (1970), which gave enough indication that he would be the future King of film music. By that time Rajesh Khanna had become the Phenomenon, and Kishore Kumar, his youthful voice. And what songs RD Burman created! Ye shaam mastani, madhosh kiye jaye; Aaj na chhodenge bas humjoli, khelenge humjoli, each an everlasting gem. When someone asked Jaikishan of SJ before Teesri Manzil was released, whom does he fear most who would overtake them – they were still the top dogs then – he said, Ye ladka jab aayega sabki chhuti kar dega.

“Dawning of the 1970s”
The Book Two of the book starts with the chapter “Dawning of the 1970s” and describes the backdrop of trends in films and music globally. The authors give an overview of the fading of the Golden Era greats in music, RD Burman’s own score in Amar Prem, which had a completely different feel, Caravan, Buddha Mil Gaya and films of that period. RD Burman took inspiration from different sources, he had a fascination for Western tunes. But he didn’t copy blindly. He “moderated, blended, mixed and patented. He was on fire. Unstoppable.”

And unstoppable he was with Amar Prem (1971), Caravan (1971), Hare Rama Hare Krishna (1971), Seeta Aur Geeta (1972), Mere Jeevan Saathi (1972), Apna Desh (1972), Bombay To Goa (1972), Jawani Diwani (1972), The Train (1972), Parichay (1972), Yaadon Ki Baaraat (1973), Namak Haram (1973), Aap Ki Kasam (1974), Aandhi (1975), Deewaar (1975), Sholay (1975), Kasme Vaade (1978), Gol Maal (1979), Shaan (1980), Love Story (1981), Rocky (1981), Angoor (1982), Shakti (1982), Satte Pe Satta (1982), Betaab (1983), Masoom (1983), Saagar (1985), Ijaazat (1987).

“Archimedes’ Principle”
Within a short span, after a succession of a dozen superhits, Rajesh Khanna had a precipitous fall because of his own hubris. There was a new superstar on the horizon, and RD Burman had no difficulty in getting associated with the big banners of Amitabh Bachchan. Laxmikant-Pyarelal and Kalyanji-Anandji – the other two of the Big Three in that era were getting prestigious projects. For soft, serious, meaningful cinema with great melodious songs RDB-Gulzar combination was legendary. There is a chapter dedicated to this combo titled “Archimedes’ Principle”. The name because RD Burman had a similar Eureka moment while taking a shower in finalising the tune of Musafir hun yaaro na ghar hai na thikana from Parichay (1972) which was the first film of this combo. With this film Bhupendra resumed his career as a mainstream playback singer. Subsequently, Gulzar as director-lyricist and RD Burman as the music director combined with great acclaim in Aandhi, Khushboo (1975), Kitab (1977), Kinara (1977), Angoor (1982), Ijazat (1987), and Libaas (1988).

“The Film of the Millenium and the Aftermath”
The authors devote a chapter to “The Film of the Millenium and the Aftermath”. Talking about Sholay (1975), they trace its inspiration to various Westerns and other movies, and make a perceptive comment that songs do not add character to a movie, it is the background score that adds a character. Then they go on to describe its exceptional background score by RD Burman.

There was a lean period after Sholay for a couple of years until RD Burman again hit big time with Hum Kisi Se Kam Nahin (1977) and Kasme Vaade (1978). This trend of some big successes and some duds continued in the early 1980s. But late 80s were a period of sharp drop in his popularity. He started signing films indiscriminately, mistakenly believing that this would help him stay in business. They were bad projects, the quality of his music went down severely. With a succession of failures the offers started drying up. In the cut-throat world of Bollywood nothing fails like failure. His regulars started leaving him. He also suffered health problems – a heart attack, and a few years later another heart attack leading to bypass surgery in London in September 1989. His (second) wife, Asha Bhosle, was not by his side when he needed her most. She was just like another visitor who came to look him up post-operation.

“Epilogue: The Pancham Legacy”
The book ends with “Epilogue: The Pancham Legacy”. When RD Burman was consigned to loneliness and down in dumps, his fan Vidhu Vinod Chopra offered him to compose music of 1942: A Love Story. RD Burman took it as the last chance for redemption. He used new voices and gave it all as needed for a period film. Alas, he passed away on 4 January 1994, three months before the film’s release. The music turned out to be a landmark in his career, Pancham must have been pleased in the heaven. People will remember him for his trend-setting innovations, his spectacularly successful and melodious songs.

You get the hang of the book. There are trivia galore, some views of the authors you may not agree with, but it is worth reading.