Salil Chowdhury’s music was high on melody and reflected his socio-political ideologies too -OxBig News Network

 As I drove towards the hills to get rid of the scorching Delhi heat this past week, Salil Chowdhury was my trusted companion. Of course, the conversation began with the ultimate travel song, ‘Suhana safar aur ye mausam haseen’ (Madhumati), but, as rain clouds gathered, the subtle undertone of longing and wistfulness in Mukesh’s voice gave way to an interplay of rain and romance in Lata Mangeshkar’s ethereal voice in ‘O sajna barkha bahar aayi’ (Parakh). Soon, Talat Mahmood came on with a velvety riposte in the form of ‘Itna na tu mujh se pyaar badha ki main ik badal awara” (Chhaya), and the time melted away.

It was in the hills that the philosophical depth and lyrical beauty of Salil da’s (as he was fondly known) compositions took root. Salil grew up in the tea gardens of Assam, where his father was a medical officer. Surrounded by Europeans, his father Dr. Gyanendra Chowdhury, ardently followed Western classical music and staged plays with plantation workers. His rich collection introduced young Salil to Beethoven and Bach. The discerning can find the influence of Mozart’s symphony in ‘Itna na mujhse’. He learned to play the flute and piano. The ambience of the tea estate not only exposed him to folk traditions of the region, but also to the harsh working conditions of plantation workers. These multi-layered experiences found expression years later in the Nepali folk song, ‘Chhota sa ghar hoga’ in Naukri.

When the family shifted to Calcutta, a teenage Salil underwent a socio-political awakening as Bengal was reeling under a manufactured famine — result of exploitative Colonial policies. The famine catalysed Salil’s involvement with Indian People’s Theatre Association (IPTA), a cultural arm of the Communist Party of India, which used art to address social issues and famine became a central theme in their performances. It shaped his musical and ideological outlook in the years to come.

After becoming a popular voice of resistance against the Colonial rule and feudal values, Salil came up with songs such as ‘Bicharpati’, based on Bengali folk forms of Baul, Keertan and Bhatiyali. Encouraged by influential filmmaker Bimal Roy, Salil shifted base to Bombay. Bimal Roy was impressed by Salil’s poignant story ‘Rickshawala’ about an oppressed peasant forced to become a rickshaw puller in the city. He turned it into the classic Do Bigha Zamin (1953). Bimal’s trust in Salil’s ability to craft music was mirrored in the film’s theme and cemented their partnership.

The song, ‘Dharti kahe pukar ke’, explores rural exploitation and Salil drew inspiration from the Russian Red Army’s march tune. Bimal further consolidated their bond with Parakh, a political satire, again based on a story by Salil. Its music has also withstood the test of time, with Lata picking raag Khamaj-based ‘O sajna’ as one of her all-time favourite. The two created a unique musical synergy where Salil challenged her with complex compositions such as ‘Ja re ud ja re panchhi’ (Maya) and ‘Na jiya lage na’ (Anand) and liberally used her voice in Bangla and Malayalam films as well.

Meanwhile, Salil-Shailendra partnership too continued to grow, so much that, when Raj Kapoor took a neorealist turn with Jagte Raho (1956), he approached Salil. The master lived up to the faith reposed in him with the hauntingly contemplative ‘Zindagi khwab hai, khwab main doob Ja’, followed by the boisterous Bhangra number ‘Main koi jhoot boleya’ with Prem Dhawan. Salil also painted a poignant ode to the motherland in Kabuliwala (1961) with ‘Ae mere pyare watan’ in Manna Dey’s voice.

Jagte Raho’s background score also has seeds of ‘Aaja re pardesi’, which Salil later developed (perhaps, on the advise of Shailendra) in his folk-classical style for Madhumati. Shailendra and Lata made Salil’s simple-yet-intricate composition special by using bicchua (scorpion) in ‘Chaddh gayo paapi bichhua’.

Few know that Salil founded the country’s first secular choir in Bombay and, together with Satyajit Ray and Ruma Guha Thakurta, created its Calcutta chapter. Unlike his contemporaries, who were either focused on classical or catchy tunes, Salil created unique sounds by integrating folk melodies with Western orchestral techniques. His seamless layering of different styles and voicing of musical instruments appealed to both Indian and global sensibilities, making his music timeless and versatile across languages and genres.

The use of obbligato gave his songs a layered, orchestral quality, making them musically sophisticated, yet emotionally accessible, a rare balance in his era. In Anand’s iconic number, ‘Zindagi kaisi hai paheli’, a subtle string section provides a lilting obbligato. It complements Manna Dey’s vocals and offers a reflective counter-melody that aligns with the song’s existential theme.

In ‘Kai baar yun bhi dekha hai’ (Rajnigandha), a delicate flute and soft violin obbligato accompany Mukesh’s vocals, creating a gentle countermelody that mirrors the song’s theme of fleeting emotions and inner conflicts.

The collaboration between Salil Chowdhury and Yesudas deepened with Chhoti Si Baat, where he sang the breezy ‘Jaaneman jaaneman’
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Salil’s background as a screenwriter and lyricist informed his ability to craft music that mirrored a film’s emotional arc and he became the go-to composer for filmmakers. When editor Hrishikesh Mukherjee turned to direction with Musafir (1957), he reached out to Salil for music. The film is remembered for ‘Lagi nahin chhute rama chahe jiya jaye’, the thumri-based composition in which Dilip Kumar duets with Lata. It is the first, and perhaps, the last time that the thespian sang.

When Gulzar took up direction with Mere Apne (1971), Salil was the obvious choice. The lyricist says his melodies carried the soul of the story. Such was his range and appeal that both R.D. Burman and Hridayanath Mangeshkar sought him as a guru.

Having composed songs in more than a dozen languages, Salil was hooked by the progressive themes of Malayalam films and developed a deep bond with filmmakers such as Ramu Kariat and Aravindan. Many times, he would use the same tune in Hindi, Malayalam and Bengali. For instance, the deeply evocative ‘Raaton Ke Saaye Ghane’, rendered by Lata, in Annadata (1972), found parallel life in voices of Sandhya Mukherjee and Yesudas in Bangla and Malayalam, respectively. Starting with Chemmeen (1965), a landmark in Malayalam cinema, the collaboration between Salil and Yesudas deepened with Chhoti Si Baat (1975), where he sang the breezy ‘Jaaneman jaaneman’, mirroring director Basu Chatterjee’s slice-of-life charm. Salil opted for more hummable melodies using minimal orchestration to evoke a conversational or reflective tone that matched the light-hearted, everyday aesthetic of the narratives for his composition.

The poster of the classic, Kabuliwala, with the eternal composition, ‘Aye mere pyaare watan’
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives

Salil is also credited as the pioneer in background score, composing for songless courtroom dramas and mystery thrillers, such as B.R. Chopra’s Kanoon (1960) and Ittefaq (1969), where background score was pivotal to the narrative. Chopra, who usually collaborated with Ravi, reached out to Salil to enhance the emotional impact of these films. For Devdas (1955), Salil created the background score for the climax, though the songs were composed by S.D. Burman. Similarly, Gulzar too reached out to him for the background score of Mausam. In Malayalam films such as Dweepu, Abhayam, and Vellam, as well as the Tamil film Uyir, Salil’sbackground score aligns with the cultural milieu.

Salil Chowdhury family foundation is carrying forward his legacy, and musicians such as Debojyoti Mishra and Joy Sarkar, as well as the Jibonmukhi Gaan movement, seek to preserve his musical spirit and social consciousness.

As for me, it is back to reality with the plaintive voice of Talat crooning ’Raat ne kya kya khwab dikhaye’ (Ek Gaon Ki Kahani).