R. D. Burman

Born on 27th June, 1939 in Calcutta, Rahul Deb Burman (RD) was the only child of Sachin Deb Burman and Mira Deb Burman. He was brought up in Calcutta. S D Burman was used to live in Ballygunge area in south Calcutta and was a popular Bengali singer and musician.
His family moved to Mumbai and RD started learning sitar under legendary sitar player Ali Akbar Khan.

[ The very first film that came Pancham’s way was Raaz, offered to him by Guru Dutt, in 1958. Pancham was only 19. The film was shelved midway. He got his real break three years later, when Mehmood offered him Chote Nawab(1961). Pancham’s first song was sung by Lata Mangeshkar(Ghar aaja Ghir aayee).
Pancham’s career spanned 331 films, 5 TV serials, 164 non film songs(134 Bengali, 30 Hindi) and 5 languages. ]

Rahul Deb Burman's first film at the age of 22, Chhote Nawab, was a Mahmood production. In those days, the bespectacled young Burman was known more as S.D. Burman's son than as himself, a tag that was to last another ten years. After Chhote Nawab, R.D. drew a blank in 1962, '63 and '64. Chhote Nawab had some excellent songs, like: matvali ankhon vale (Lata, Rafi), llahi too sun le (Rafi), aam chhum laam chhum (Rafi and chorus), yet R.D. Burman's talent went unnoticed. For the next few years, he continued to assist his father. Nicknamed Pancham after his rhythm-oriented musical inclinations, RD surfaced again in 1965 with Mahmood's next, Bhoot Bungla and another film, Teesra Kaun.  Manna Dey and chorus sang the former and Lata rendered the latter for Bhoot Bungla. Singing achha sanam(Teesra Kaun), Asha Bhosle typified what was to emerge as Pancham's swinging, up-beat style. Mukesh and Lata sang an innocent, romantic duet that went pyar ka fasaanaa banaa le dil deevaanaa. Suddenly, the world sat back and took notice.

[ He is a master composer. Nobody, nobody in Indian cinema has used music in all its form and range quite like him. If SD Burman was the purist, then his son Rahul Deb Burman was the maverick - the risk taker, the dare devil, who knew how to make symphony even out of a sock! ]

Mahmood nurtured him further, with Pati Patni (1966). Two songs distinguished the film’s score. In one of them, actor-singer Surendra returned to the microphone after a long absence to give playback to Om Prakash. The other song, Kajre badarvaa re (Lata) was a gem of a tune. But the film that catapulted RD into big time was Nasir Husain's Teesri Manzil. Nasir had already acquired fame as the maker of a string of musical hits, from Tumsa Nahin Dekha (1957) to Phir Wohi Dil Laya Hoon (1963). Having worked with such giants as O.P. Nayyar and Shankar Jaikishan (the latter gave music in Nasir's Jab Pyar Kisise Hota Hai (1961), Nasir Husain reposed great faith in the little known 'Burman Junior' by signing him for not one but two films. Baharon Ke Sapne(1967) was to follow Teesri Manzil. It was as if RD had made a five-year plan and at the end of his gestation, he would reap his rewards. After 1961, 1966 became the most important year for him. Teesri Manzil was the talk of the (music) town. o haseena zulfon vali(Rafi, Asha), o mere sona(Rafi,Asha) Tumne mujhe dekha(Rafi) and Deevana mujhsa naheen(Rafi) were heard in every street and occupied a lot of airtime over Radio Ceylon. Baharon Ke Sapne did not emulate the success of Teesri Manzil. Its box-office failure affected its music too, though many felt that at least musically, Baharon Ke Sapne was outstanding. RD showed remarkable range while composing Chunri sambhaal gori (Manna, Lata and chorus), Kya jaanoon sajan(Lata) and Zamaane ne maare javaan kaise kaise(Rafi). Aajaa piya tohe pyar doon(Lata) was a unique blend of simple tune and measured orchestration. With Padosan and Abhilasha (both made in 1968), RD emerged from the shadow of his illustrious father. As his second five-year plan progressed, RD bagged films like Pyar Ka Mausam, Waris (both 1969) and Kati Patang and Raaton Ka Raja (both 1970). And then came 1971 - the year of Rahul Deb Burman. Adhikar, Buddha Mil Gaya, Caravan, Ehsan, Lakhon Mein Ek, Lagan, Mela, Pyar Ki Kahani and The Train - all had RD's name as music director. His tenth film in that one eventful year was Hare Rama Hare Krishna, which made it to the top in Binaca Geetmala through Dum maro dum. The son had carved out a place for himself in the sun. Rahul Deb Burman emerged from the daunting shadow of Sachinda to become one of the topmost composers in Hindustani films. Looking at 1972, we find his name associated with Apna Desh, Bombay To Goa, Dil Ka Raja, Do Chor, Garam Masala, Gomti Ke Kinare, Jawani Diwani, Mere Jeevan Saathi, Parchhaiyan, Parichay, Rakhi Aur Hathkadi, Rampur Ka Lakshman, Rani Mera Naam, Samadhi, Sanjog, Savera, and Shehzada. That makes sixteen films in one year !
   Lasting associations is RD's forte. From Teesri Manzil to Zabardast (1985), every film of director Nasir Husain had his music. With Ramesh Behl (Apne Apne 1986), the team dates back to Jawani Diwani. After Hare Rama Hare Krishna, all but two or three films of Dev Anand were adorned with Pancham's tunes. Dubbed 'strange' in the early seventies, the RD - Gulzar combine has consistently yielded musical hits in the Parichay tradition. Majrooh and Anand Bakshi were his favorite poets for over twenty years. Every film of actor - director - producer Mahmood just had to have Pancham's music. All four of Ramesh Sippy's films, beginning, with Sholay (1975), have had their score composed by him. Saagar (1985) was among the top twenty-five musical films six months after its release. Earlier, for many weeks, it was among the top three. Sholay earned the country's first platinum disc and Sippy's Shaan, a commercial disaster, had some catchy songs, thanks to RD.
Quite obviously, RD has shown a marked preference for Kishore Kumar among male singers and Asha Bhosle among the female voices. Kishore probably suited his boisterous antic-gimmick-calisthenic style more than any other singer. Kishore is at his 'best' singing Naheen naheen abhi naheen (Jawani Diwani -1972), Jaise ko taisa mila (Jaise Ko Taisa - 1973), 0 hansini -(Zehreela Insaan - 1974), Main shair badnaam (Namak Haram - 1973), Cham cheekee chiki bam cheeki chiki (Kahtey Hain Mujhko Raja - 1975), Mere naina (Mehbooba - 1976) and 0 manjhi re (Kinara -1977). But that does not negate the RD-Rafi masterpieces, like Sunder ho aisee (Dil Ka Raja - 1972), Chura liya hai (Yaadon Ki Baaraat - 1973) , Aa raat jaatee hai (Benaam - 1974 - both duets with Lata), Naghma hamaara (Bundalbaaz - 1975), Kya hua tera vada and Chand mera dil (both from Hum Kisise Kum Naheen - 1977), (the first with a few lines by Sushama Shrestha) and dozens of songs from his sixties's films.
Asha Bhosle was more than a singer to him. Eventually, she became his (second) wife. RD further moulded her vocal nuances, nuances that had been created and shaped by O.P. Nayyar and S.D. Burman. The cabaret-night club-discotheque genre of film music is studded with a number of R.D.-Asha 'floor shows'. Some are listed here: Mera naam hai Shabnam (Kati Patang - 1970), Piya too ab to aa jaa (Caravan - 1971), Aa jaa o mere raja (Apna Desh - 1972), Aaj kee raat (Anamika - 1973), Teri meri yaari badi purani (Charitraheen-1974), Sapna mera toot gayaa (Khel Khel Mein -1975), Do pal kee hai yeh zindaganee (Chala Murari Hero Banne - 1977), Mera pyar, Shalimar (Shalimar - 1978), Kya ghazab karte ho jee (Love Story -1980), Jaan-e-jaan (Sanam Teri Kasam - 1981) and Dharkan pal pal (Arjun - 1985).
Besides doing bit roles in Bhoot Bungla and Pyar Ka Mausam, Pancham has sung a number of songs, self-tuned. Most of them have been hits: Duniya mein (Apna Desh), Dhanno ki aankhon men (Kitaab) and Mehbooba mehbooba (Sholay). Often dubbed a plagiarist, RD has proved his mettle time and again for twenty-five tuneful years from film to film, song to song.
Courtesy: from an article published in 1986 in "Playback"

Gulzar remembering RD
We knew each other from the moment we were hopefuls. We were assistants--he to his father and me to Bimal Roy. When SD would come with his compositions, his son would come carrying a "dagga". He'd be wearing shorts the way kids wear Bermudas today.
My first lyric for Sachinda was Mora gora ang lai le. Pancham would be there. Shailendra did the other lyrics for BANDINI. And Pancham would encourage me--go meet baba, go and talk to him. He'd invite me to their apartment in the one-storey building, 'Jet', on Linking Road. Today there's a tall building over that one-storey structure. I don't know who stays there now, Sachinda was there till his end.
Pancham was three-four years younger than me. He was always a kid, he remained one. He was fond of pranks, of colorful clothes and especially of the color red. He had a nickname for me--'safed kavva'. He'd phone, if I wasn't at home he'd leave a message, "Tell 'safed kavva' that 'lal kavva' had called."
His sense of humor was his very own. He knew Asha Bhonsle was very particular about keeping the house clean; so he sent her a gift--two big brooms in bright wrapping paper.
One of his passions, besides music, was cooking. He grew chillies in his terrace garden--as many as 40 varieties, cross-breeding them to get new exotic tastes. Ashaji now wonders, "Who'll look after his plants? He's gone."
If a friend was going abroad, he'd ask him to get back some soup packets. Like he asked Rahi Sabarwal of Air India to bring him some soup packets which you can only find in Hong Kong. Pancham even sent him a telegram, "Don't forget my soup." The telegram was signed Soup Lover.
As young men in our 20s, we shared many common interests--interests in home-cooked food and in sports. He was a soccer fanatic, he was a true Mohan Baganian, he'd get into heated arguments with (director) Gogi Anand over soccer. Yet Gogi remained Pancham's friend till the end.
Pancham married Jyoti. It was a love marriage, but I think it didn't work out because they were two very different people. He was immersed into films and music; he'd spend long hours away from home in the recording studio of Film Centre. He was so obsessed with his work that he had little time for any other love in his life.
Pancham was a terrific mouth-organ player; he played the organ in his father's orchestra. And he was an outstanding sarod player too; he had trained under Ustad Ali Akbar Khan.
Pancham would have his differences with his father. But he was Sachinda's only child, he was the pampered one. And he could get pretty possessive about his father. They hailed from a royal family; for them it was a matter of pride that they had carved out their own little kingdoms with their music.
There'd be good-natured bantering between them. "Baba," Pancham would pout, "you don't give me enough pocket money." And Sachinda would laugh back, "Oi Pancham, when are you going to contribute to the kitchen expenses?" Whenever the son would try to shuffle out quietly from the music room, Sachinda would say, "Jao jao, I know you want to smoke a cigarette."
Pancham would frequently compose his tunes in the course of car drives. He'd hum, we'd reach Film Centre and he'd say, "OK, you go home now, I've got the tune in my head. I'll try it out with the musicians." If he was especially excited about a tune, he'd scream with joy. He never kept his happiness within himself, he shared the moments of ecstasy with others.
Pancham would keep the actor's face in mind while working on a composition. He'd tell me that, at times, he thought of my face while conjuring a tune--which I thought was a great compliment.

We first worked together on PARICHAY. It was important for me to sit with him on the music sessions. He inspired certain moments which I picturised later, his music was that visual...I went to Rajkamal studio where he was recording a background score for another film. I gave him the mukhDa--Musafir hun yaaro/Na ghar he na thikaana--and I left. That night he woke me up at 1 a.m. and said, "Come, come down with me to the car." He'd recorded the tune on a cassette already. He started driving through the empty streets of Bandra, he played the beat on the dashboard. It was my first song as a director with him.
By the time he composed Saare ke saare, he had shifted from home--he was in the process of acquiring a new flat--to Caesar's Palace Hotel. The most beautiful song in the film--Beeti na bitaai raina--was also composed in the hotel room. It was based on a classical 'bandish'; it fetched Lata and Bhupendra National Awards for best playback singers.
In all, we did eight films together, as a composer-director team. Besides PARICHAY, there were: KHUSHBOO, KINARA, AANDHI, KITAAB, NAMKEEN, LIBAAS and IJAAZAT. How did Tere bina zindagi se koi shikwa to nahin(AANDHI) come about? He was recording Bengali songs for Durga puja around that time. The lyrics were by the renowned Gauri Prasanna Majumdar. I liked the tune that Pancham was composing; I filled it up with Hindi words and said, "Look, I'm going to use this for AANDHI."
As for Is moD pe jaate haiN, kuCH sust qadam raste, I gave him the words from one of my poems. He composed the tune instantly. He never took time. Spontaneity was his specialty. If he struggled over a song, he would prefer to abandon it. For instance, Ek hi khwab kai baar yuhi dekha hai maine(KINARA) exasperated him. He found that metre a bit difficult, but two months later I put it before him again. He caught the scanning, and the song was finally recorded.
When I gave him Mera kuCH saamaaan tumhare paas paDa hai(IJAAZAT), he waved the lyric aside and said, "Huh, tomorrow you'll bring me the front page of *The Times of India* and expect me to compose a tune around it. What is this blank verse you're giving me!" Ashaji was sitting there, she started humming the phrase, Mujhe lauta do. He grasped it immediately; from that one phrase he developed the song, which was quite a feat! This time Ashaji and I got National Awards. Poor fellow, he did all the work and we enjoyed the 'kheer'.
Ashaji's and his was a superb creative companionship. He used the potential in her voice to maximum effect. No other composer ever placed Ashaji's voice above his music the way he did. We recorded the non-film ), album DIL PADOSI HAI, and the variations from semi-classical and ghazal to pop and jazz, were a valuable experience for each one of us. There was a three-way harmony of voice, music and lyrics.
After his heart ailment, Pancham did feel that producers were sidelining him. He did feel hurt. He would laugh, with a touch of bitterness, at the new music composers who copy his tunes and make a mess of them. They would even imitate his singing style which was unmistakably his. Mehbooba mehbooba (SHOLAY) and Dhanno ki aankhon meiN (KITAAB) were his creations,
but others tried to clone his style, only to sound like amateurs.
My last meeting with Pancham was on December 30 [1993]. He went to Sahara recording studio in Goregaon. Ashaji was recording a song for G.V. Iyer's VIVEKANANDA. Salil Chowdhry had composed the music. Pancham and I had gone along with Ashaji. At the end of the evening, he said in his customary manner, "Milte hain."
We never did.