Once Upon A Cinema: When Amjad Khan sang Thumris for Satyajit Ray

Satyajit Ray had seen Sholay on the first week of release. He was in Bombay when he saw it, and he rather enjoyed the film. In a later interview, he called it a “very competent film, though pretty low on artistic content.” Ray had an interesting relationship with mainstream cinema. He lived and worked in an era when the distinction between what was called Art Film and the run of the mill commercial cinema was extremely stark. Art filmmakers scoffed at the big bad Bollywood, and Bollywood scoffed right back. While Ray himself had no love lost for the lack of cinematic logic and the garish song and dance routines (he once said, “All those songs and the changes of costume during a dance are, I think, unique distancing devices), but he did watch the latest Hindi films and kept abreast of the industry trends. In fact, Feluda , the fictional detective Ray created, watched Hindi films quite often. In his debut novel the sleuth says he looks forward to watching Zanjeer (1973) and Rafoo Chakkar (1975), while in another book he breaks into a song from Dev Anand’s Ishk Ishk Ishk (1974). Whenever he was asked why he didn’t make a film in Hindi, Ray often countered it by saying he was a Bengali filmmaker and preferred to tell stories in that language. A deep understanding of culture and language was important to him, and he knew precious little Hindi. Finally, when he did give in, he chose subjects which were from Hindi literature. Both Shatranj ke Khilari (1977) and _Sadgati_ (1981) were adapted from Munshi Premchand’s short stories. Premchand’s original story didn’t even have Nawab Wajid Ali Shah as one of the principal characters. He makes an appearance only twice: once at the beginning of the story when he is mentioned by name, and towards the fag end where he is shown being taken away in chains by the British soldiers. Other than that, the entire story is about two excessively self-indulgent chess players named Mirza Sajjad Ali and Mir Roshan Ali, who take their obsession with the game to extremes. A decadent, debauched Lucknow forms the backdrop, and in the end these two noblemen who do nothing to defend their territory and their king, draw swords to kill each other to defend plastic kings and queens of chess. To Ray, though these two chess players were important but to complete the picture of decadence, turning a more intimate look at the king was crucial. Wajid Ali Shah is the throbbing heart of Ray’s version of Shatranj Ke Khilari. Since it was his first outing in Hindi/ Urdu, he resolved to hire the best in the business, Shama Zaidi and Javed Siddiqui, who brought Ray’s English screenplay to life with the vibrant language of 1850s Lucknow. For the two chess players, Sanjeev Kumar and Saeed Jaffrey were roped in. It was Sanjeev, some believe, who showed him Sholay. Ray’s son Sandip later claimed that he was so impressed with Amjad’s work as Gabbar, that he immediately decided to cast him for Wajid Ali Shah. But Suresh Jindal, the producer of Shatranj ke Khilari, recalls it a little differently. Suresh Jindal had by then produced one film, Basu Chatterjee’s Rajanigandha (1974). Like a handful of other young men those days, Jindal was also on a self-imposed mission to ‘change cinema’. After having worked with Basu, he approached Ray and over the course of several weeks, they decided to work on a movie together. Jindal quotes a letter written by him to Ray in his book My Adventures with Satyajit Ray: “I understand you were very impressed by the performance of Amjad Khan in Sholay. Will it be possible to cast him in the role of Wajid Ali Shah?” Ray replied, “Amjad is a good tip for Wajid, but I can only decide after a personal encounter.” Suresh’s next letter reflected some concerns about the budget they were dealing with: ““An asking price of 10 lakhs requires some padding in the casting. Sanjeev and Saeed have been finalized as the chess players. I hope Amjad Khan can be fixed for Wajid Ali’s role, since apart from being an actor of promise, he is also becoming more ‘saleable’”. Ray had yet another concern now. “Amjad is a very good choice for Wajid, but for all I know he may have already been typed as a villain. (What has he done since Sholay?) In our film there won’t be a trace of villainy in his part.” Amjad had had the big launch, so to speak, with Sholay (1975) which also gave him his breakout role. Before this, he had appeared in Chetan Anand’s Hindustan Ki Kasam (1973), but Gabbar Singh gave him an opportunity to try on his wings. Though Sholay is lauded and termed a classic for a variety of reasons, the very first thing that comes to mind when one thinks of that film is Amjad as Gabbar Singh. Time has been kind to Gabbar but exceptionally cruel to Amjad Khan. Despite being a gifted actor and playing a plethora of unique roles, his mainstream movie career is filled with pale shadows of Gabbar Singh. And yet, it won’t be entirely unbecoming to call his performance as Wajid Ali Shah a notch better than what he was able to achieve with Gabbar. Besides Amjad, Ray had cast three other Sholay alumni: Sanjeev Kumar, Leela Mishra and the disembodied voice of Amitabh Bachchan. After Sholay, Amjad had played minor roles in Ramanand Sagar’s Charas (1976) and Mehmood’s Ginny aur Johnny (1976). Effectively, Nawab Wajid Ali Shah was his first major role after Gabbar Singh. The nawab was a far cry from the bandit of Ramgarh. Amjad deftly plays a passionate patron of the arts, who wrote couplets and composed exquisite Thumris. There was a silent grace in his manner which is viciously called out by the British general, played by Richard Attenborough. As his adversaries close in on him, he hums, Jab chhod chale Lucknow nagari, Kahein haal ke hum par kya guzri…  This is performed by Amjad in his own voice, to the dying light of the setting sun. It was his first day of shooting, and a trolley of about 25 feet was laid, with light connected to a dimmer. With the amber light falling on his face, Amjad’s rendition created a sublime, melancholic effect. Despite extensive rehearsals, Amjad welled up while mouthing Jab chhod chale Lucknow nigari. Even the eyes of the otherwise stoic Satyajit Ray had been moist, according to Shama Zaidi. “I was not expecting this, Amjad”, he said. But the song by Amjad Khan that actually made it to the album was a more nuanced performance. As the nawab laments bygone days and curses the hour he ascended the throne, he recalls that priceless moment when he sat on the throne to deliver judgement, and the song came to him. Right then sitting there, he composed it. And he sings it flawlessly in his velvet voice: Tadap tadap sagri rain gujari Kaun des gayo saanwariyaa Bhar ayi ankhiyan madwaare Tadap tadap gayi chunariya Tumre ghoran more dwar se jo nikse Sudh bhool gayi main banwariya Tadap tadap sagri rain gujari…  While reviewing the music of Shatranj Ke Khilari for India Today, Deepankar Mukhopadhyay said, “The record springs a surprise on the listener with a piece by actor Amjad Khan. His deep, somewhat husky voice blends well with the nostalgic romance of the lyrics.” Subsequent to the release of Shatranj Ke Khilari, the film found widespread acclaim but Amjad didn’t win any awards. He wasn’t even nominated. In the years that followed, he gave his voice to the occasional playback song. They were almost always buffoonish, “comedy” songs like Khaat pe khatmal chalega/ Jab din mein sooraj dhalega and Lai lo lai lo ji paan/ Main to bechne ko aayi. They were soon forgotten, along with any traces of Amjad Khan ever doing anything remotely as good as Gabbar Singh in Sholay. Amborish is a National Film Award winning writer, biographer and film historian. Read all the  **_Latest News_** _,_  **_Trending News_** _,_  **_Cricket News_** _,_  **_Bollywood News_** _,_  **_India News_**  and  **_Entertainment News_**  here. Follow us on  Facebook_,_  Twitter and  Instagram   .