Shammi Kapoor, RD Burman, Teesri Manzil: Superhit combo that almost didn't happen

By Anirudha Bhattacharjee and Balaji Vittal Editor’s Note: “Life has given me so much,” said Shammi Kapoor, sitting in front of his computer. Balaji Vittal had gone to the king of dance and romance because he wanted him to write the introduction for a new book on music legend Rahul Dev Burman. Shammi Kapoor, of course, had given RD Burman the big break with Teesri Manzil_. Vittal remembers: A spark of nostalgia was all that was needed to ignite him. He actually enacted the climax scene impromptu — the one in which he puts on the sherwani, locks the buttons of the garment into place one by one and discovers one button missing. The camera, lights may well have been on. He snapped into the present from his reverie. Probably he ‘heard’ Goldie Anand’s ‘Cut!’”_ Ironically neither Shammi Kapoor nor RD Burman were meant to be part of that superhit film. Teesri Manzil was supposed to be a Dev Anand – SD Burman film. But SD Burman was ill and he wanted to give his son a break. Dev Anand dropped out because he making Guide. In walked Shammi Kapoor. It is said Nasir Husain practically kidnapped him from a game of cards. The problem now was how to get Shammi to take a  gamble on Rahul Dev Burman instead of his usual favourites – OP Nayyar and Shankar Jaikishan. Anirudha Bhattacharjee and Balaji Vittal tell that story in their recently released book R. D. Burman: The Man, The Music (with an introduction by Shammi Kapoor).  Here is an excerpt courtesy Harper Collins.  Surfing on the success of films like Kashmir Ki Kali and Rajkumar (1964), while working on Jaanwar (1965), Shammi Kapoor was referred to as the king with the animal charm. He was acknowledged to be at the top of the pecking order, the man with the power to mesmerize his leading ladies with his charisma and attractive looks. He moved in the industry as if he owned the place, and few had the nerve to question him. Like a king, he was surrounded by his ardent cluster of followers. And like all royalty, he expected the best of everything. [caption id=“attachment_65889” align=“alignleft” width=“380” caption=“Shammi Kapoor in this file photo. AFP”]  [/caption] Shammi’s favourite composers were industry favourites Shankar–Jaikishan and OP Nayyar, who had helped build his image by churning out colossal musical hits for the star. It was no surprise then that he would have none other than S-J or Nayyar for Teesri Manzil. Not only were they tried-and-tested, they were also familiar with the genre of music the film needed. Pancham, therefore, had to clear the hurdle that was Shammi Kapoor. Well-wishers Jaikishan and screenplay writer Sachin Bhowmick came to Pancham’s aid, requesting Shammi to give Pancham an opportunity to showcase his skills. The audition In what was one of the most decisive auditions of his life, and of Hindi film music for that matter, Pancham lost serve in the first game. He had just sung the first two lines of a Nepali tune, which was later remade as ‘Deewana mujhsa nahin’, when Shammi interrupted him, completed the rest of the lines ‘Deotara mattali oina’, and said nonchalantly: ‘Another one. I will give this number to Jaikishan.’ It was quite common for actors to request composers to create songs for them based on tunes they (the actors) had heard and liked. [caption id=“attachment_65994” align=“alignright” width=“282” caption=“Teesri Manzil movie poster. Image from Wikipedia.”]  [/caption] Shattered nerves gave way. Flabbergasted, Pancham left the room. After a couple of perfunctory puffs on a cigarette, Pancham re-entered the music room and played the tunes he had reserved for the occasion: ‘O mere sona’, ‘Aa ja aa ja’, and ‘O haseena zulfon wali’. Shammi Kapoor stopped him abruptly and said, ‘I don’t want to hear any more songs.’ He rose and made for the exit. ‘You’ve passed. You are my music director,’ he added on the way out. In hindsight, Pancham needn’t have been unduly anxious. According to Manohari Singh, ‘O haseena zulfon wali’ had been recorded even before Shammi Kapoor’s arrival at the studio, at the behest of Nasir Husain… Continues on the next page O haseena zulfon wali For the Rafi–Asha duet ‘O haseena zulfon wali’, Pancham laid out a variety fare ranging from the drums and the violins for the main course of dominant sounds, the triangle and the trumpet for the side dishes of supporting sounds, and the acoustic guitar and sax in the bossa nova-style interludes. Filmed in multiple crane shots with fleeting close-ups and cuts introduced only when switching between characters, ‘O haseena’ would set the standard for the portrayal of lively music and dance in Indian cinema. Anasua and Anindita, who lived next door to Sur Mandir (Lino Minar having been renamed so), remember walking into Pancham’s room one afternoon. When he saw the girls, Pancham asked them to sing. Anindita sang ‘A north country maid’, a song she had learnt at school. Pancham sat upright, excited. He had found the piece to fill up a blank space, the tune for the line ‘Woh anjana dhoondti hoon’. [caption id=“attachment_65891” align=“alignright” width=“380” caption=“RD Burman with Dev Anand. Image from in.com”]  [/caption] Those were the days when songs were recorded live, with musicians playing alongside, unlike the tracking system used today. In ‘O haseena’, around eighty musicians were used; of whom close to forty were violinists. The task of managing the crew itself would have been very difficult, not to speak of the challenges of arrangement and orchestration, given the rapid change of notes and beats in the song. This was no one dimensional lullaby with a hundred-piece orchestra. Aja aja main hun pyar tera The second Rafi–Asha duet, ‘Aja aja main hun pyar tera’, was Pancham’s favourite song in the film. Its highlight is a fourteen second guitar lead, played thrice at a frenetic pace in the seventy-seven-second prelude. Guitarist Soumitra Chatterjee, who played with Pancham during the second half of the 1980s, remarked: ‘So intense and characteristically different was the guitar lead, played by Dilip Naik, that the piece was used by Asha Bhonsle to audition new guitarists who dreamt of playing with her.’ Apart from the ear-catching guitar, the infectious rhythm, the feverish chants of ‘Aja aa aa aja’, the sporadic touch of the bossa nova, the staccato use of the vibraphone and the piccolo, and the infectious coda designed on alto sax infused with a chorus, it is the tune which leaves you gasping, asking for more, an effect fashioned by Pancham by using the flat seventh note, Komal Ni, as the last note in the antara… In what was a generous compliment to Pancham, Shammi Kapoor said that the song would go on to become a trendsetter. Tumne mujhe dekha and Dekhiye sahibon In the third stage number, the Rafi solo ‘Tumne mujhe dekha’, the antara starts on the fourth note (Ma), thus creating a shift in-scale experience. To get the mood right, Pancham used the notes of the first line of the antara as the prelude of the song. The song was being filmed when Shammi Kapoor received news that his wife Geeta Bali, then suffering from smallpox, had passed away. Crestfallen at this huge loss, Shammi went into exile. It took a lot of patience and perseverance on Goldie’s part to persuade Shammi to face the camera again. Shammi Kapoor wrapped up the sequence in two takes, recovering his lost confidence in the process. But for Goldie’s persistence, Teesri Manzil might have joined the long list of films that get shelved.  ‘Dekhiye sahibon’, another Asha–Rafi duet, featured the leading pair on a giant wheel with the hero trying to negotiate with a crowd in an attempt to win the girl. The rhythm in this vintage Pancham creation keeps varying between stanzas; 4/4, bossa nova, pizzicato, and even offbeat. A chorus chips in with a ‘Hah hah’, Asha teases with additional inflexions ‘Aye haye haye’ in the stanzas, and Rafi hurries up to the end of the antara much like the free fall of the giant wheel. Bhanu Gupta, playing for Pancham for the first time in this song, went on to become his chief rhythm guitarist. Their bond went beyond the confines of recording studios. A new combo is born The title score is a critical component in any suspense or action thriller and Pancham made the most of the opportunity in Teesri Manzil. The opening scene shows an attractive young woman drive up to a hotel in the dead of the night, walk up three floors and fall to her death. Murder or suicide? Why does Helen warn Shammi against rushing to the dead body while shocked onlookers watch blood seep from the victim’s smashed skull? What secret is she hiding? And who is the man, peeping through a window above, quietly watching the scene unfold? All this with the film’s credits in the foreground and RD Burman’s pulsating score in the background. One thing was obvious: Pancham had made his mark in the movie even before the song tracks began. The film was a huge hit, and its music score is considered one of the principal reasons for its success. It set the Nasir Husain– RD Burman combination rolling and provided the Kapoors an alternative to Shankar–Jaikishan and Nayyar. In fact, Shammi got Pancham to compose for the two films he directed in the 1970s.