Jottings: Slice of life – 452
For the past two weeks, I haven’t written much. Stories and ideas have been accumulating, but I couldn’t bring myself to physically write. A period of writer’s block – I guess. I decided to break that spell today with a tribute to one of the finest music composers of the post-independence era, who died ( he didn’t die of Covid) on 7th May, just short of turning ninety-four. Not many of the millennial generation will know the name Vanraj Bhatia, and I suspect, not many of my generation can instantly recognize his name either. The fact that he composed music for over 60 movies, created over 7000 ad jingles( many of which are ear-worms, like the famous Liril ad he made for Alyque Padamsee that continues to haunt listeners even today), composed background scores for more than fifty television serials, and written around thirty independent works for the piano, chamber music, and Opera – hasn’t really given Vanraj the name, recognition and financial success he deserved. He died in his apartment in Mumbai, a lonely man, a recluse, living off the sympathy and help of his close friends and family. However, there are few things he never gave up throughout his life: his unwavering passion for good music, the meaningful richness of his musical creations, his uncompromising lifestyle, his unconditional generosity, and above all, his strong opinions on what music is and is not. Zakir Hussain, one of our greatest musicians, summed it the best during Vanraj’s felicitation Vanraj by the NCPA: “ Vanraj Bhatia is India’s greatest ever composer. Period.” This is high and definitive praise from a man who has witnessed music in all its forms. It is debatable if Vanraj is the greatest but unheralded composer India has produced, but there is no doubt whatsoever that Vanraj was certainly one of the finest of his generation.
My first introduction to Vanraj Bhatia was not through his film music; it was through a two-volume CD album “ The Bhagavad Gita” released in the mid-nineties. Elegantly packaged, with good well-written sleeve notes, this work contained select verses from all the eighteen chapters of the poem. Unlike conventional recordings of the Gita verses as “slokas,” Vanraj had transformed the poem into an operatic piece giving each verse a distinctive dramatic treatment. It was not just the drums that brought out the tension in the battlefield, but the brilliant arrangement of the Strings and Horns. The music brought out the clear and calm philosophic message sandwiched between the inner harmony and the outer chaos represented in the epic. For nearly sixty minutes, Vanraj’s music held me in thrall. Like Bach’s mass in c Minor, Vanraj’s musical imagination of the Bhagavad Gita takes the listener closer to God.
It was then, I started exploring more of Vanraj’s music. At that time, music stores didn’t carry much of his work because, for one, Vanraj didn’t score prolifically, and secondly, he rarely composed music for commercial box office films. Google and Youtube were not yet there yet. It was difficult to find his music. It is only later in the 2000s, from youtube and other streaming sources, I was able to systematically collect the tracks and works of Vanraj into a decent playlist. Even then, the list wasn’t much. Vanraj was very selective with his projects, and those he chose to work on, he gave it the full range of his musical genius. Vanraj’s favorite director was Shyam Benegal, for whom he composed eight times, including the beautiful musical tracks and background score to Benegal’s multi-part documentary “ The discovery of India” – one of the finest attempts to trace India’s past, based on Nehru’s acclaimed work by that name.
There is this composition “Barase ghan sari raat” in the 1984 Kumar Sahani film “Tarang” which I consider to be one of the finest musical compositions for the screen. Sung in the silken voice of Lata Mangeskar, the beauty of the song lies in its haunting tune, the impeccable harmony of Lata’s expression and tonal control, and more emphatically, the magical musical arrangement that scaffolds, sustains, and permeates the entire composition. Fifty violins rise, gracefully meander and wane in unison, and a single Sarang in between soulfully evokes and accentuates the lilting sadness of a lover on a moon-filled night. Lata’s mellifluous voice soars above this intricate musical carpet. It is one of the few times in Lata’s career when immediately after the recording, she requested the team to play the song back for her. ( Latha and Asha, both, have the practice of leaving the recording studio after the song is Ok’d – so confident there were in their work). The nightingale of India was amazed at the precision of Vanraj’s musical score, and the rigor of his recording process. This song is available on youtube, and if you haven’t heard it before, you should. This single composition is enough to understand the kind of musical virtuoso Vanraj Bhatia was.
The history of Indian film music is punctuated by many great composers, in every region and language. But in many cases, the work of a music composer is usually known for the hummable tunes they create. The surrounding music, without which no tune will ever get its lift and beauty, is often not created by the music directors themselves. The musical base, the orchestral choices, and the arrangement of them are left to others in the musical team. The less discerning public also do not, unfortunately, care much about the overall musical structure as long as the tune is good. Again, while it is always the composers who compose the tunes who get credited for the music in a film, the reality is different. Many music composers turn out to be surprisingly ignorant about underlying the intricacies of musical arrangement. They are good at creating the icing on the cake, the cake itself can be the work of someone else.
Vanraj was a complete music composer. As a young man, Vanraj was steeped in western classical music and the Indian classical style. He was equally at home composing a tune in Raag Bhimplasi as he was writing a full-blown flute concerto. His formative years were spent in the Royal Academy of music and the Paris Conservatory, where he fell in love with Opera. He was a great admirer of Igor Stravinsky’s work. In his later years, Vanraj would often recount how he would sometimes slip out to attend two concerts in a day hopping from one venue to another to listen to Stravinsky’s celebrated and iconoclastic piece “The rite of spring” — one of the most daring musical compositions of the twentieth century. With all this early learning and experience, Vanraj understood the importance of a balanced and meaningful background score, and how music can transform an ordinary visual image on screen or stage to a heightened emotional aesthetic. He preferred creating background scores for arty films. It was in such projects that Vanraj believed his music could play its role, which is, enhancing the visual impact of a sensitive narrative.
In David Nihelani’s television film “Tamas” for instance, the angst of Om Puri, the fiery look on his face, affects the viewer not just because of Om Puri’s acting brilliance, but also the creative musical score that attenuates those emotions. Vanraj won the National award for his work in Tamas. I have watched at least a dozen movies embellished by Vanraj’s musical score. In all of them, Vanraj’s profound musical sensibility clearly comes through. Very few composers have, equally and competently, straddled between composing hummable tunes and scoring background music. RD Burman and his father SD Burman, Shankar Jaikishan, Ilayaraja, MS Vishwanathan, AR Rehman, and Vanraj Bhatia – immediately come to mind.
In the last decade or so Vanraj was financially broke, and he cut himself off from society. His constant companion during these years was his pet cat, which tragically, was run over by a car a few years ago. That left him devastated. Loneliness, a sense of alienation, and advancing age made him more and more disgruntled and reclusive. His home was cluttered with objects from a bygone era. And for lack of money, he was selling some to meet daily expenses. Till the very end, Music remained his abiding passion. A few years ago, in 2017, in an interview for Rajya Sabha TV (it is on youtube), Vanraj reminisced about his life and work. It was touching to see the man still obstinate and full of pride in his opinions and views. Life may have dealt him a raw deal, but the courage of his convictions, his well thought out and lived views on music, hadn’t wavered at all.
Personally, Vanraj Bhatia’s work has been close to my heart since the day I heard him for the first time. And I am sure, his music will stand the test of time. As long as music is valued, not merely for its loudness or its computer-synthesized sweetness, there will be enough people who will listen to Vanraj and find a deeper meaning in musical harmony and its inner representation.