Arati Mukherjee: How She Sang The Song That Makes Us Cry
Do Naina Aur Ek Kahani in Masoom.
In 1983, when Shekhar Kapur was filming Masoom, he asked music composer RD Burman for a melancholic melody.
‘It should make people cry. Paani, paani aana chahiye aankh mein,’ he said.
‘Itne budget mein tum mera paani toh nikal ke hi rahoge,’ Burman replied.
‘Oh dada, you fuss too much’ Kapur said. ‘You will get a Filmfare award.’
‘Haan, why not, lagey haath kisi singer ko bhi award dila dete hain,’ Burman said.
‘Who?’
‘Asha!’
‘No, we can’t afford her.’
‘Phir?’
‘Get someone from Calcutta dada. You know those Rabindrasangeet- classical types. They deliver in one take. They have years of practise singing like a cuckoo from a willowy tree, and they will do it free for you.’
‘Hmn, dono aankh mein ek kahani, thoda uska badal, thoda hamara paani,’ Burman said.
‘Exactly, you know how to milk music dada,’ Kapur said.
Burman called Arati Mukherjee. She was the go-to voice for playback in Bengali films.
‘Arati, ek art film hai, paisa…’ Burman coughed on the phone.
‘Dada, aap ke paas kabhi bola kya yeh sab,’ Arati replied in a language she rarely spoke. ‘Hum toh kabhi yeh sab naam hi nahi lete hai paise ki.’
Burman was relieved that Arati was not negotiating money.
When she read lyricist Gulzar’s words in the recording studio, she wept like a child who could not recollect what she was crying for.
Chhoti si do jheelon mein woh behti rehti hai
Koi sune yaa naa sune kehti rehti hai
Kuch likh ke aur kuch zubani
In two small streams she flows
She speaks regardless of being heard
Some in words, some orally
‘Kya hua?’ Burman asked.
‘Bachpan yaad aa gaya,’ she cleared her throat and tried to push back her tears.
‘Paani,’ Kapur said, offering her a glass of water. Paani, his operative word.
Arati looked at Gulzar and sighed after drinking the water. She read the lyrics further.
Thodi si hai jaani hui thodi si nayi
Jahan ruke aansoo wahin poori ho gayi
Hai toh nai phir bhi hai purani
A little is familiar, a little new
When tears stop to complete
What seems new is known too
The simple and profound lyrics were rekindling some buried memories in her. Arati was feeling the return of an innocent time. Before she became an established playback singer, she used to sing for herself. That had stopped in films. She always had to picture who would be singing it on-screen. It felt different with these lyrics. She stepped into the recording booth and sang.
She was singing about the feelings of tears and tearing up feeling it.
Do Naina Aur Ek Kahani was recorded in one take.
Arati came out and asked Burman if she was good.
‘Ho gaya?’ she asked.
‘Haan,’ he said.
‘Itni jaldi?’
‘Haan, tum toh perfect gaya,’ he said. ‘Itna mat ro, paisa bhi milega aur award bhi.’
He made her laugh.
She returned home happy and light, a sense of purpose one gets after a good cry.
A year later, both Burman and Arati won the Filmfare award for the composition.
Burman called Arati and said, ‘Kya, abhi bishwas hua ki nahi, ke main sach bolta hoon.”
Arati recalled that evening. She remembered that special day when all the musicians in the studio congratulated her and said she is crying now but she will be happy when she wins the best playback singer trophy.
Ek khatm ho toh doosari raat aa jaati hai
Hothhon pe phir bhooli hui baat aa jaati hai
As one ends, another night returns
The forgotten word on my lips torment
Thoda sa baadal thoda sa paani
Aur ek kahani
Do naina aur ek kahani
A small cloud, a teardrop of water
And a story
Two eyes and a story
‘Mujhe toh kabhi bishwas hi nahi hota hai,’ Arati cried out laughing.
https://medium.com/media/de2b7283ddecb96e4befff4781bbee8d/hrefDisclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction or more formally known as real person fiction. It is not for any commercial use. Read more on Real Person Fiction here.
