CAPTAIN CUNNINGHAM’S HISTORY OF THE SIKHS*†

[* A History of the Sikhs from the Origin of the Nation to the Battles of the Sutlej. By Joseph Davey Cunningham, Lieutenant of Engineers, and Captain in the Army of India. London: John Murray, Albemarle Street, 1849.]

[† Reproduced from Page 7 of The Times (London) of April 06, 1849. It sheds some light on why the book incurred the wrath of British establishment – Capt. Cunningham exposed the collusion of the British Colonists with the Dogra (“Rajpoot”) brothers and Tej Singh & Lal Singh to bring about the fall of Punjab. More importantly, he exposed the establishment’s narrative as less than truthful, thereby causing doubts about the integrity of their other records — Sikh Centre]

[If the reader finds some turn of phrase or spellings archaic, please note that this was written in 1849 — Sikh Centre]

This book would deserve notice even if our relations with the nation of which it treats were less critical than they are. It was written in India, though transmitted to England for publication — a circumstance which has fortunately placed it within the reach of ordinary inquiries. We take this opportunity of remarking that the literary communication between England and India is in a state extremely imperfect and unsatisfactory. The press of Calcutta produces a number of publications of the highest historical and political value, which are yet scarcely heard of in this country. It is true that the Calcutta Review, a journal supported by the first talents in the service of the Indian Government, is received by London correspondents, and occasionally such a work as Major Smyth’s Reigning Family at Lahore finds its way to the library tables of England when any unusual interest is supposed to be attached to the subject. But, generally speaking, the fact is as we have stated, and it receives a curious exemplification in the very volume before us; the historical contents of which are in great part founded upon publications which have appeared at various times in Calcutta, but which have ever since remained inaccessible, except by accident, to English readers.

We should first state Captain Cunningham’s qualifications for the work which he undertook. From 1837 to 1845 he occupied, with little interruption, responsible posts on the staff of the Political Agent on the Sikh frontier, and in the several capacities which were assigned to him he had an opportunity of taking personal share in some of the most important events in those quarters. He accompanied the expedition which forced the Khyber Pass in 1839, and proceeded a second time to Peshawur in the following year. He had magisterial charge of the Ferozepore district in 1841, and was despatched to Little Thibet in 1842, for the purpose of regulating the relations between the Chinese population of those parts and the encroaching family of Gholab Singh. In 1845 he repaired to Bhawulpore to arrange certain boundary disputes, but was soon relieved by a summons from Sir Charles Napier to join his army of co-operation. After the battle of Ferozeshah, however, he was ordered to Lord Gough’s headquarters, whence he accompanied Sir H. Smith to Aliwal, and then returned for the battle of Sobraon. At the conclusion of the war his services were acknowledged by an appointment to the political agency of Bhopal, from a town of which principality he dates the preface to this work on the 9th of last December. The book therefore had left his hands before the occurrence of any of the late incidents of Lord Gough’s campaign — incidents which we suspect drew him again from his retirement, for we are much inclined to think that the Captain Cunningham of the Engineers, who by the last dispatches was superintending the intrenchments of the British camp, can be no other than the author of the work before us. These details are necessary to convey an adequate idea of the authority carried by the book in question, but they are significant also in another sense, as the reader will presently see.

In speaking of the history of any Indian state, a writer who wished to be generally comprehended would find it usually desirable to take no knowledge for granted on the part of his reader. Recent occurrences, however, have so concentrated public attention on the Punjab and its population that the Sikhs can no longer be represented as an unknown people. Several publications illustrative of their singular fortunes appeared in 1845 and 1846; Major Smyth’s book, to which we have above alluded, is a specimen of the supplementary information which has been since collected; the Edinburgh Review, for January last, contained a comprehensive sketch of the whole political history of the Punjab, and our own columns have from time to time communicated such retrospective intelligence as was required for a proper understanding of the events under notice. We may therefore presume, on the present occasion, that our readers are generally acquainted with the leading circumstances attending the rise and progress of the Sikh people, such as the facts that they were originally not a distinct tribe, but a religious sect; that their “nationality” has not yet existed for a century; that they were persecuted into union and obstinacy by the Mahometan Emperors and Affghan invaders; that their state first assumed a substantive form under Runjeet Singh, and that from the period of that monarch’s death in 1839 they have been plunged in intestine anarchy, diversified only by aggressive war. In pursuance of such presumptions we shall not attempt to follow Captain Cunningham through the early chapters of his work, but, as we are compelled by our limits to a choice of omissions, we shall take up his history at Runjeet’s death, and confine our notice to those particular points on which the observations of the author tend to place the subject in a different light from that in which it has been previously viewed. That these points are neither few nor uninteresting will be presently found.

The relations of the British Government with the Sikh state at the time of Runjeet’s death were in the charge of the present Sir Claude Wade, who in April 1840 was succeeded by Mr Clerk. Mr Clerk becoming Lieutenant-Governor of Agra in 1843, resigned the frontier agency to Lieutenant-Colonel Richmond, who in his turn gave way to the unfortunate Major Broadfoot in November 1844. It is from the communications of these several agents with the Indian Government that our chief knowledge of all the transactions in question has been derived, and it is on these despatches, with which he was officially familiar, that Captain Cunningham has built this portion of his history. The conclusion deducible from the information previously accessible was certainly that the Government of Calcutta had exercised no conspicuous or objectionable intervention in the affairs of the Punjab during the six years of anarchy. We need hardly, perhaps, remind the reader, that in this interval of uncontrolled self-government, three Maharajahs, three Princes of the blood, three Viziers, and two-thirds of the principal Sirdars, had been put to death in cold blood, or had fallen in civil war. Runjeet left one legitimate son, Khurruk Singh, and one grandson, Nonehal Singh, and to these descendants were added three adopted or reputed sons, irrespective of the child who was finally recognised as Sovereign of the Punjab, by the name of Maharajah Dhuleep Singh. While the assassinations in question were going on the British Government has been hitherto represented as keeping aloof and forbearing, for caution’s sake, from even that intervention which circumstances almost warranted. It was indeed, very well known that the name of the English was unscrupulously employed by all the parties concerned, and that the animosity of the soldiery was often excited by groundless rumours, purposely disseminated, of our intentions against the Punjab. But in Captain Cunningham’s book the interference of the English agent is represented as perceptibly influencing most of the state revolutions, though he does not allege that our wishes extended beyond a sincere desire for a strong Government.

To gain a clear comprehension of the strange period of Sikh anarchy which preceded the resolution of invading our dominions, it is best to keep strictly in view the state of parties at Runjeet’s death. There were first, his son and grandson; next, his reputed son, Shere Singh (who is not to be confused with the fighting Sirdar of that name), and his adopted sons, Cashmeera and Peshora Singh (so called after the two provinces subdued by Runjeet); and finally, his alleged son, Dhuleep Singh, whose claims were not put forward till a later period, and whose very existence, Captain Cunningham says, was not known to the British until 18 months after Runjeet’s death. After these came the Sirdars, among whom the families of Scindinwallah. Majeetia, and Attarewallah took conspicuous rank — the two former being collateral branches of Runjeet’s own stock, and the latter allied to his family by marriage. Besides all these the Rajpoot population of the hill districts of the Punjab had come, by a strange concurrence of events, to be most influentially represented at the Court of Lahore. Three brothers Gholab, Dhyan, and Suchet, descended from the old line of Rajahs of Jummoo (extinct in its elder branch), had so ingratiated themselves with Runjeet that he had created them all Rajahs, and at his death
Suchet was one of the principal generals of the Sikh army, Gholab had been reinstated in the old principality of his family, and Dhyan was no less a personage than Vizier of the realm. The first and last of these went the way of all Sikh notabilities between 1839 and 1846 — being treacherously murdered; but the second is our present ally, Gholab Singh of Jummoo. Now, after the lineal descendants of Runjeet had been put to death, the quarrels were all for the Vizierate, and the antagonists were the Sikhs, represented by the Scindinwallah family, on the one side, and the Rajpoots, represented by the Jummoo brothers, on the other. We do not mean that the Rajpoots, as a race, ever contemplated, or could have compassed, the assertion of any superiority over the Sikhs, but merely that the power of this particular family was such that they contested, and for some time actually secured, the political supremacy in the state. In the meantime the claims of the boy Dhuleep Singh had been so far recognized that, although it is almost certain he has no blood connexion with the Royal family, he was admitted, after the murder of Shere Singh, to be the sole claimant to the throne, and the Vizierate alone remained an object of dispute. Final1y, therefore, when the leading Sirdars had been killed off, there rose up a new party in the family and favourites of Dhuleep’s mother, better known as the Ranee, and it was this party which we, in 1845, found in possession of power. The order of succession would be somewhat as follows:- Runjeet died in 1839. His lineal descendants had been murdered by November 1840, and Shere Singh’s reign then commenced under the auspices, and with the confirmed ascendancy, of the Jummoo brothers, and lasted till, in September 1843, he and Vizier Dhyan were assassinated together. But though the Scindinwallah chiefs were the perpetrators of the massacre, they did not reap its fruits, for a son of Dhyan’s — Heera Singh — unexpectedly gained the support of the soldiery, half exterminated the Scindinwallahs, and perpetuated the ascendancy of his family till December 1844, when he also was murdered. There survived, however, no longer any Scindinwallah to take advantage of the vacancy thus created, and accordingly, the Ranee’s people, as we have observed, stepped quietly in. Jowahir Singh, her brother, was installed Vizier in May 1845, and after his assassination in the September following, Lal Singh, her paramour, was appointed to the office, and held it till the day of retribution came. Meantime Gholab Singh had adroitly steered his way through the storm, had availed himself, it is said, of the long ascendancy of his family, to take large toll of the Royal treasures, and was preparing his own independence in his mountain city of Jummoo. We have digressed a little to give the reader the benefit of this outline, but the subject is so interesting, and at the same time so confused in ordinary descriptions, that we are sure the episode will not be ill-received.

It will be readily supposed that a Government constituted like that of the Sikhs at the period under notice, could exercise no great control over the spirit of the nation. There was, in fact, an end of all restraint whatever. The Sikhs, as the reader will remember, were essentially a military people, and considering the enormous proportion borne by the army to the rest of the population, there was really no great injustice in the exclusive appropriation by the former of that title which had been early employed to designate the whole mystic commonwealth. The army now styled itself “the Khalsa,” that is, the select or chosen State. Its insubordination at this time was still further increased by a system of government by delegates which had been lately adopted. Each battalion nominated a committee, or “punch,” and these punches again nominated from their own numbers an executive committee in whose hands virtually rested the supreme control of affairs. The punches now declared for open war. That they were not encouraged by the Court in this frantic scheme is very well known, though it is also notorious that false representations had been repeatedly made to them respecting the hostile designs of the British whenever the excitement thus producible was thought likely to serve the turn of one Court faction against the other. Without, however, so much as even a nominal grievance, and with a resolution so abrupt as to take the Governor-General by surprise, they now crossed the Sutlej, marched upon the British army, were met, encountered, and repulsed.

Such is a brief statement of the case as hitherto accepted, nor does the author before us attempt to gainsay its substantial allegations. But by some singular predilection his heart is with the Sikhs throughout, and though he does not spare the Sirdars, he gives the Khalsa the benefit of every doubt which can be raised or devised. As regards the great question of all, though he cannot of course conceal that the Sikhs took the initiative, yet he actually ventures upon condensing the opinions of his text into a marginal epitome, that “the English, nevertheless, are mainly to blame for the war.” When we come to examine the particulars of this unexpected assertion, we find it expanded into the less positive proposition, that “considering the English to have been sincerely desirous of living at peace with the Punjab, the policy adopted by them does not show that strict adherence to formal engagements, and that high wisdom and sure foresight which should distinguish the councils of an intelligent Power acquainted with actual life and with the examples of history.” Upon further investigation the arguments used to justify the Sikh invasion are found to resolve themselves into these: that the British had gradually concentrated troops on the north-west frontier of their own dominions, and had even collected a bridge of boats at Ferozepore; that they had comported themselves offensively in the cis-Sutlej states, and that they had given indications of a hostile policy by the appointment of Major Broadfoot to the political agency of the frontier. Frederick the Great never prefaced & war by a more flimsy manifesto than all these charges would constitute, even if literally proved; but the fact is that such force as they may at first appear to possess vanishes altogether when they are thoroughly discussed.

To allege the precautionary measures of one state as justifying the actually aggressive measures of another, is a line of argument which, if commonly admitted, would leave our dockyards under heavy liabilities. It is surely one thing to say (what can be only matter of opinion), that but for our warlike attitude on our own frontier we should never have been invaded; and another thing to allege that this attitude warranted the invasion. As far as the argument is available at all, its force turns upon the circumstances under which our precautions were taken. If the condition of the Punjab was not such as to suggest such prudential measures to a reasonably minded Government, or if the measures were injudiciously carried out by a concentration of troops either sudden or overwhelming, and in spite of treaties to the contrary, then no doubt something may be said for the Sikhs. But every one of these considerations tells against them, and in our own favour. The condition of the Punjab was surely such as to create natural apprehensions. Captain Cunningham indeed supposes that the Sikhs “did not understand why they should be dreaded when intestine commotions reduced their comparative inferiority still lower.” But it can hardly be thought strange that the British Government should look with distrust towards a state in which a numerous and well-appointed army had monopolized the administration of affairs, had made and unmade Sovereigns, had held state trials and performed state executions, and was now encamped, with loud proclamations of conquest, close to its own frontier. As to the precipitancy with which the troops were collected, or the scale on which the muster was made, it might be summarily conclusive to point to the plight in which we were actually surprised. We will, however give the reader the actual figures to judge by. The original frontier station was Loodianah, and here, up to Runjeet’s death, there used to be 2,600 men and six guns. Stations were afterwards formed at Ferozepore, Umballa, Kussowlee and Simlah, while, on the other hand, the station of Kurnal was (in 1843) abandoned. The frontier force was then raised successively by Lord Auckland to 8,000 men, by Lord Ellenborough to 14000 men and 48 guns and by Lord Hardinge to 32,000 men and 68 guns, out of which last establishment 17,000 only were found available for the actual shook of war at Ferozoshah. With respect to the stipulations of treaties, Captain Cunningham does not venture to allege that we were debarred by any such compacts from occupying the cis-Sutlej province in such force as we thought proper; he merely argues that it was contrary to the “arrangement” by which the symbols of our power had been confined to Loodianah. Admitting, however, that the Sikhs did probably “cherish these old relations of 1809,” and that our authorities in times past had deemed it prudent to adhere to such forms, were not all the conditions and requirements of such relationship reversed, when instead of the sagacious policy and strong Government of Runjeet, the whole external representation of the Sikh state was centred in the mutinous and turbulent battalions of the Khalsa? As to Major Broadfoot’s personal comportment, it is hard to attack one who can no longer defend himself; but even if all that is here alleged of his imperiousness be true, surely the unpopularity of a political agent is not to justify an invasion.

Apart, however, from this, Captain Cunningham’s own statements go far to relieve the British Government of the responsibility thus cast upon them, for he acknowledges that the war was deliberately promoted by some of the chiefs who desired to engage the troops in destructive hostilities, and thus to free themselves from a licentious and overbearing soldiery, who disturbed them in the enjoyment of their possessions, so that the culpability must be mainly transferred to native shoulders. It is curious to see what interesting and inoffensive gatherings the Sikh musters appear in the descriptions of the author. The old battalions of the Khalsa, trained by Avitabile and Ventura, dragging a tremendous force of artillery, and fresh from scenes of civil carnage to which few parallels could be found in the Irish campaigns of Cromwell, or the Saxon campaigns of Tilly, become “illiterate peasants,” impressed with a sacred notion of their duties, hardy “yeomen,” taking up arms for their rights, or innocent husbandmen impelled to war in defence of their ancestral shrines. Even the democratic committees of delegates, by which all military authorities were superseded, are described as merely representing the old patriarchal system of “punchayets,” so common in Indian villages, though the author might have remembered that the custom in the Sikh army was only a few months old, that it had originated in a military insurrection, when Shere Singh, in order to quiet the mutineers, offered to treat with such deputies as might be sent to him, and that a general massacre of the officers was the first step of these new authorities. When the campaign at length commences the colours of the picture are still further heightened. The “youthful Khalsa” are led to destruction by the calculating treachery of their own Sirdars. As soon as they touch the British territory they are “startled at their own audacity, and partially intrench one portion of their forces while they timorously keep the other as a reserve out of danger’s way. Thus the valiant Swedes, when they threw themselves into Germany under their King, the great Gustavus, revived the castrametation of Roman armies in the presence of the experienced commanders of Austria; and thus the young Telemachus, tremulously bold, hurled his unaccustomed spear against the Princes of Ithaca, and sprang for shelter behind the shield of his heroic father!” The numbers of the Sikhs are always pared down, while those of the British are exaggerated. Their formidable fieldworks become “slight and imperfect intrenchments.” The battles read as we may presume the battles of the Peninsula will read in the next volume of M. Thiers. At Ferozeshah “no exertion could have saved the English if the Sikhs had boldly pressed forward.” At Buddiwal the traitorous Sikh commander “did not essay the easy task of improving the success of his own men into the complete reverse of his enemy.” At Aliwal, after the brilliant charge of the British cavalry, “the ground was more thickly strewn with the bodies of victorious horsemen than those of beaten infantry.” At Sobraon “no Sikh offered to submit, and no disciple of Govind asked for quarter… …The victors looked with stolid wonderment on the indomitable courage of the vanquished; but the warlike rage, or calculating policy of the leaders, had yet to be satisfied; and, standing with the slain heaped on all sides round them, they urged troops of artillery almost into the waters of the Sutlej to more thoroughly destroy the army which had so long scorned their power.”

We can understand this kind of narrative when Mr. Fenimore Cooper is describing the battle of Bunker’s Hill, or when Mr. Hazlitt is relating the reverses of Napoleon, but it comes strangely from an experienced, able, faithful, and well rewarded servant of the Indian Government. However, it is certainly a magnanimous fancy, and it supplies us with the altera pars which all stories need. We will, therefore, say no more on the point, but leave the book to the reader’s own judgment. As to the general qualities of the work, they include all that is good and bad in Indian composition. The history is written with great fullness of detail, with great laboriousness, with a comprehensive knowledge of the subject, and with a fondness for it which (in the author’s eyes) invests every particular with an attraction not its own. But its style oscillates between tumid description and complicated detail. There is little arrangement and no kind of perspective. The writer never realizes in his own mind the wants of an ordinary English reader, and records his transactions in Thibet as if every one who took up his book would recollect the relations between Cashmere and Lassa, and be conversant with the topography of Leh. What an accomplished writer has suggested as the chief cause of the unpopularity of Indian history is conspicuously exemplified in the pages before us. They contain an immense amount of information of great value, and display an industry of which any officer might be proud; but they are so wholly technical and professional in their form, that they are little better fitted for the general reader than a treatise on gunnery or an apology for Buddhism.
~ ~ ~

Friends here my review of AAS – 1953 SJ movie:
Chander Mehta
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AAS

Goel Cine Corporation, Bombay

Director: Devendra Goel

Music: Shankar Jaikishan

Lyric: Shailendra and Hasrat Jaipuri

Music Assistant: Dattaram (Sebastian was not listed in the credits!)

Starring: Shekhar, Kamini Kaushal, Om Prakash, Gulab, Chandabai, Master Ramesh

You have to actually understand what 1953 was like to hear music like this. For that year, SHANKAR JAIKISHAN were considered innovators and public had never heard any orchestra like that! Mind you this was not a Raj Kapoor film but a boring family drama that otherwise would not have been noticed if it was not for the music of SHANKAR JAIKISHAN! They had to stick to the traditional melody and add limited amount of their new twists and tunes arrangements. If SHANKAR JAIKISHAN overdid, they would be out of bollywood as loud orchestra people! In fact, even after being so careful, SHANKAR JAIKISHAN were accused by their enemies as band masters with loud music.

So you can see, that adversaries can easily destroy you by just saying something nasty, catchy and destructive like being “band masters”. They wanted to be in the same league as C. Ramchandra, Naushad, Anil Biswas, Khemchand Prakash, SD Burman, Hanslal Bhagatram etc but still be different from them, They did a marvelous job of walking this tightrope in the early 1950s and 1953 was a great year for them to be recognized as good as the old guard but newer than anybody! So these songs by today’s standards may look old but there was something magical, something different about them in the early 1950s.

The year 1953, in which Aas was released, there were 5 other SHANKAR JAIKISHAN composed movie and they were all hits, or super hits. So 1953 was a good year for SHANKAR JAIKISHAN. The 5 movies aside from Aas were AAH, AURAT, NAYA GHAR, PATITA, and SHIKAST. Of these movies Shekhar was also the hero of NAYA GHAR, another of my favorite movie! More about Shekhar and Kamini Kaushal later. Shankar Jaikishan released 47 songs for all these films and songs of Aas were as follows:

1. Hum pe dya rakhna he data, Lata, Shailendra

2. Itna pyar karega kaun maa karti jitna, Lata, Shailendra

3. Chahe naina choorao chahe daman bachao pyar hoke rahega, Talat, Lata, Shailendra

4. Dekho ji dekho ek baar ish taraf dekho, Mukesh, Lata, Shailendra

5. Mai hoon tere sapno ki rani tu ne mujhe pehchaana na, Lata, Shailendra

6. Zulm ki nagari mai kisika kaun sahara hai, Lata, Hasrat Jaipuri

7. Humko chhed ta hai dil kaun dane kya huwa, Lata, Hasrat Jaipuri

AAS:

Cast of AAS: Shekhar (acts as Ashok), Kamini Kaushal (acts as Asha), child star Ramesh Kapoor (acts as little Kishore), Om Prakash (acts as Om masterji), Gulab (acts as chachi), Chandabai (acts as Chandabai a conniving maid)

Here I need to say something about 3 main cast members namely; Shekhar, Kamini Kaushal, and the child star Ramesh Kapoor in the early 1950s. Shekhar as an actor was not in the same league as the triple leading heroes Dilip, Raj, and Dev Anand. But he certainly was in the second tier with Bharat Bhooshan, Pradeep Kumar, Prem Nath (whose stock rose tremendously after hooking up with his future wife Beena Rai), aging hero Ashok Kumar and young and coming Shammi Kapoor. Shekhar was a very suave and polished actor, whose pleasant demeanor would at once impress the audience for his good guy image. A real hero indeed. I loved him and was delighted that he acted in another Shankar Jaikishan movie named NAYA GHAR with Geeta Bali. He also acted in other musically beautiful movies like Chhote Babu, Aakhri Dao, etc.

Kamini Kaushal also created positive vibrations as an educated and a real nice person with a very good heart. I don’t believe I ever saw her in negative roles. True to life, this fine, elegant, gentle person, who evoked motherly feelings for a child like yours truly, after her marriage and screen career she moved into equally important role as a writer for children’s stories. She is one person whose screen career as a leading lady ended in the 1950s with many memorable films and a smooth transition off-screen into a fine Indian mother for her children and for all other children she indeed contributed well in the literary circle.

Ramesh Kapoor as a child star was in good company as other child actors namely Ratten Kumar (in Boot Polish, Do Bigha Jamin, Jagriti etc), Master Romi (Mastana, Ab Dilli Dur Nahin etc). Ramesh was a very cute 8-year old boy with a very nice personality.

So the cast of the movie was great for the story and most importantly for ALL the songs! The songs of Shailendra and Hasrat Jaipuri matched the feelings of all these characters. Also, Om Prakash had a very nice role as Masterji, who taught both the father, when he was a kid, and his son in the movie. He is portrayed as a naïve person with tremendous comedic potential.

So the story of AAS begins in the Ashok Villa located in Mumbai. It is a home of Ashok, a successful Chevrolet Impala driving businessman and a widower or a single father to an eight year old boy Kishore, as his only child. Readers should forgive me, if I strongly identified myself with Kishore, the nice kid who loved to play and learn!

But Kishore needs a guardian and servants in the house are no help except Masterji, a decent yet naïve fellow. Masterji loves Kishore like he loved his father Ashok but he is very busy in other things. Ashok too as Kishore’s father is too busy in his business and usually comes home to Ashok Villa very late.

The film opens with Kishore getting lost after school and Ashok frantically looking for him in his 1952 Chevrolet Impala. He arrives at the police station and pleads to the police inspector on duty to let the whole police force look for his child (forgive him for being a father in panic!). He is posting a Rs. 1000 reward (a lot of money in 1953 – a bottle of coke was 25 naiya paise (25% of a rupee) in 1961. Just as he finishes filing his complaint of his missing son, Asha walks in to hand over the lost child to the police and meets the Ashok the father. She refuses the huge financial award saying that it was her duty to return any lost child to police station. Later we learn that she was in dire need for money and without any family in Bombay. Never fear, Ashok and Asha meet again as she answers an advertisement for a governess by Ashok. Needless to say that due to positive impression created at the police station, Asha gets the job as Kishore’s nanny in the beautiful Ashok Villa.

As she enters the villa with Ashok, a sign of possible bad luck – a cat walks in front of them! Nice directional touch! But Ashok says to hesitant Asha that the cat is their pet and is always there. Masterji Om, who was Ashok’s and now Kishore’s teacher, warmly welcomes the new child governess. Chandabai, the evil one, does not like competition and is clearly jealous of the new arrival! But Kishore loves his live-in governess.

On first day at the villa, early morning Asha lovingly wakes up Kishore and makes him take a bath and breakfast. And then tells him that they must pray to the God. So begins our first song (Ashok, Masterji, and Chandabai are listening to the song in different rooms of the villa with differing emotions!):

Song 1. Hum pe daya rakhna hai data – Shailendra song sung by Lata

http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=ltoGnhzm5fQ

Beautiful traditional composition begins with bansuri, dholak, like typical 1950s composition, but what is different is the beginnings of experimentation in orchestral arrangements by SHANKAR JAIKISHAN. One can here the famous string section arrangement of SHANKAR JAIKISHAN and that is totally unlike any other arrangement by any other music composer! The song composition is traditional bhajan but made amazingly melodious by magical use of western orchestra. Lata sings beautiful the magical lyrics of Shailendra.

“Tum na hote jag na hota

Bikhare moti kaun pirota?

Jeev bichara tum bin kaise

Balak bin mata, hai data balak bin mata, humpe daya rakhna hai data”

Everyone in the house, including Ashok is impressed by this Shankar Jaikishan song penned by Shailendraji. Only Chandabai, the evil naukarani is unhappy! She is ticked off at the positive impression created by the song on Ashok by the beautiful nanny!

Little Kishore is impressed by the new aunty, who after school teaches him lessons like geography etc. He finds out that the world’s tallest building is the Empire State building at 1250 ft. Kishore quizzes his father if he knew which was the tallest building in the world? The father didn’t and needless to say the single parent Ashok was impressed by the new nanny. Ashok loves how Asha takes good care of Kishore throughout the day and possible cupid connection is about to happen!

Evil maid Chanda tries to poison Masterji’s ears but he doesn’t listen to the jealous maid. She tells him wait for Asha to become Ashok’s new wife! Just then, while teaching her eager pupil, Ramesh, Asha teaches how important mother is and how mother’s love is the best for a child. So begins the next song and anyone listening to this song for the first time will find that Shailendra has penned very beautiful and touching lyrics to this MAA song!

Song 2. Itna pyar karega kaun, maa karti jitna – Shailendra song sung by Lata

http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=uTe6uknwQY8&feature=related

Lata’s beautiful humming before the song starts, is very effective. On screen Asha (i.e. Kamini Kaushal) sings to little Kishore. this beautiful song that a mother would sing for her child. Orchestra again is mind blowing for its initial introduction in early 1950s. The song is so melodious that it can be well-liked even today!

For a mother-less child this song would be precious as Kishore shows as he cuddles with Asha aunty. On a personal note – I was the same age as Kishore and I missed my mother in the theatre. My mom had quite a few similarities with Kamini Kaushal! I want to caution readers that there is a child in me that is also writing this review so be kind and forgive all childish heroine worshiping!

Listener would immediately notice a turning point in Hindi film music. The early 1950s songs of Shankar Jaikishan were laying the ground work for massive changes in the orchestral arrangements. The changes about to come were to forever change the music for the next 50 years and beyond! This unusual orchestra arrangement for its time even in MAA song may have involved Sebastian but he was not listed in the credits.

While teaching her eager pupil, Kishore how important a mother’s love is for her child (Kishore doesn’t know anything about his mother as she died when he was very young), there is accidental attraction between Ashok and Asha as little Kishore innocently asks Ashok about Asha aunty after the song, “kya aunty hamari maa nahi ban sakti?” as his father walks into the room. Ashok and Asha exchange tender glances! Love is in the air.

The lurking evil woman Chandabai hates the popularity of Asha in the house and possible love between Ashok and Asha. Chandabai first tries to poison Om Masterji’s ears but Om is a good man and doesn’t like evil ways of Chandabai and tells her to get lost.

Ashok gets attracted to Asha and takes her out with Kishore for shopping to Flora Fountain, Bombay and then for a drive in the country. Remember in early 1950s, a film about domestic family drama had to show Indian conservative values and passionate love scenes in Ashok Villa with skimpily dressed heroine would be sacrilegious! But never fear, Indian directors want to show love song and little less dress on females for mass appeal by showing a fishing village and fisher women’s’ dance! So after shopping the three stop by a fishing village to see a dance. Kishore immediately runs to the front of the audience to enjoy the dance while Ashok and Asha sit back and exchange loving glances! Kind of like “Kahe rahi hai nazaar nazaar se afsaneh!” So the setting of this song is perfect to show love between adults. So here is a very romantic duet picturized on a fisherman and his lady and all the romantic lyrics are well understood by the two new lovers, Ashok and Asha. Fisher woman was a very beautiful lady who came on screen as extra in many dances.

Song 3. Chhahe naina choorao – Shailendra song sung by Talat and Lata

http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=oik-anrZVPk

Talat Mehmood’s voice is appropriate for this song but you could tell that his velvety voice was no match for the new orchestral arrangement. Nevertheless 1950 to 1955 were the best years for Talat Saheb. Lata sings her part very well.

At the end of the song, Ashok draws Asha close to her and first physical contact is made! Ashok wants to marry Asha now.

Imitation is a norm in bollywood and so a similar scene was created in 1955 movie Amanat with Bharat Bhooshan and Chand Usmani exchanging loving glances and thoughts while a fisherman and his woman sang Salil Choudhary and Shailendraji’s song “Ho jabse milli tose ankhiya, jiyara dole re ho dole ho dole!” Check out the similarity in this link:

http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=a7W0×8UFcF4

Song 4. Mei hoon tere sapno ki rani – Shailendra song sung by Lata

http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=wMUgapbZNbM&feature=related

Birthday song for little Kishore. Ashok and Asha are in fancy dress attire and Ashok looks very charming with long side-burns and playing accordion.

In fact, this song opens with accordion and then beautiful rhythmic bongo joins in with SHANKAR JAIKISHAN orchestra! Accordion was never played like this before! Lata is voice is playful for this dress party for the child’s birthday. Mute trumpet and mandolin really compliment the song.

Song 5. Kya yeh duniya hai? Zulm ki nagari mei kisika kaun sahara hai? (2 parts) – Hasrat Jaipuri song sung by Lata

http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=IG0rwFJA3v4

Ashok’s aunty Gulab manages to drive Asha and her little infant out of the house and the next song begins.

Orchestra in this song employs unbelievable melody. With regular instrument of the era in old songs – the harmonium – is cleverly employed. Picturization of the song in Mumbai locations was amazing in 1953 and now it brings my memories of Mumbai with this old 1953 shots. Check out this song at:

After the song Asha and Ashok’s young infant dies of fever without any medical treatment. Asha is penniless and without job because she can’t get job After her child’s death she tries to commit suicide under a train when Masterji and Ramesh see her. Ramesh saves her life by pulling her aside from rail track. She is without any hope (AAS). Masterji encourages and helps her. He extols her to fight for her innocence and her right. With Masterji’s help she reenters Ashok Villa as his sister in-cognito.

Song 6. Dekho ji dekho ek baar is taraf dekho– Shailendra song sung by Mukesh and Lata

http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=JaDCw3ySbGw

This is the only song of Mukesh and his voice matches well with Shekhar. But I like Talat’s singing for Shekhar (which was not seen in this film) as in NAYA GHAR with a beautiful classic “Unhe tu bhool ja ai dil”

The song is unique in that it takes on South American rumba samba melody and even you find it in counter melody! Very magical composition of SHANKAR JAIKISHAN like no one could image in 1953!

Song 7. Humko chhed ta hai dil kaun jane kya huwa – Hasrat Jaipuri wrote this song and Lata was the only singer.

The last song is listed in the credits but I have yet to hear that song! I am sure if our Kalraji was alive, he would have had it. Any help or more info about the last song will be appreciated by me.

I would end this review by inviting you all readers to go to YOUTUBE links that have been inserted and really experience the songs and the period i.e. 1953 in Bombay! You will agree that the composers SHANKAR JAIKISHAN did a masterful job of composing melodious tunes for a very bland domestic drama! Shahrukhbhai pointed it out to me that movie songs have a unique place in our Hindi films and lots of views about their use in films have been expressed. He pointed out that even celebrity film makers like late Satyajit Ray do not understand the role of songs, please do read his essay on Hindi Film songs here . For me these AAS songs are interwoven with my childhood memories and I will always remember every minute of the film AAS and every melody, rhythm, and every word of all the songs of AAS.

Dr. Chander Mehta (cm381@yahoo.com)

Sobhit-sundor Goyem:

Sobhit mhojem Goyem,

Mannkulem,

Sundor mhojem Goyem

Purvozanchem.

Sobhit tem Goyem

Khoim mhonn gelem,

Mhaka somzona hem

Koxem tem bhavlem!

Mui

Dhanvta, dhanvta,

Mui vavr korit

Aplem pott bhorit,

Mui yeun tharta.

Fator

Fator zodd

Ponn gheta vozonn

Fator ximitin

Bandta xharam!

Madd

Maddamni sobhit

Goyem amchem

Dolleank dekhavo

Amchea payeank

Goyem pallnnem!

Udok

Udok na,

Pavs poddta,

Udok bhorta,

Konnak

Tem naka!

Xinvtim-Abolim

Sobhit xinvtim-abolim,

Bhagint mhoje pollelim,

Dhovim-dhovim

Tim hanvem roil’lim.

Fulam bhavtat,

Te bhaxen jivit mhojem

Bhavon-bhavon

Sukho zatam…

Ranant-vanant tim vostat,

Thoim pormoll ximpddaitat

Tim xinvtim-mogrim-abolim

Devak vakhanntat!

Tambdde-dhove gulab

fultat,

Tankam amim udok ghaltat,

Te amkam vas-pormoll ditat…

Amchem jivit grestaitat…

Gulab

Pormollit gulab

Kantteancho gulab

Jivit kantte-kanttech

Hech amche vollvolle!

Eksuro

Veller bhonvta,

Eksuro,

Lharam polletam,

Monan chin’tam,

eksuro…

Konn yeta, veta,

onollkhi,

Kitem sangchem,

Kainch kollona,

Eksuro…

Monis yeta,

Bhett korta,

Adar magta,

Eksurponn khoinchem?

Jivit sundor-sobhit tem!

Click here to watch all Episodes
Cast: Naheed Shabbir, Imran Abbas, Samina Pirzada, Haider Sultan, Ali Afzal, Hiba Ali, Faiq Khan, Khoobsoorat, and more…

Director: Asim Ali, Babar Jawed
Producer: Momina Duraid
Writer : Nighat Abdullah

The 52-episode serial revolves around the life of Faiqa (Naheed Shabbir) who is secretary to Mrs Afendi (Samina Peerzada) a rich, dominating and manipulative woman. Faiqa is very keen to marry off her son, Sheharyar (Imran Abbas) but he is suffering from Cancer and does not want to hide that fact from prospective suitors. He falls in love with Faiqa, and when Mrs Afendi finds that Faiqa needs financial help, she uses the situation to her advantage. She convinces Faiqa to sign a contract whereby she would marry Sheharyar and in the event of his death, if she has borne his child, she would forsake any claims to it and sever all connections with their family. However, things take an unexpected turn when after Sheharyar’s death, his step-brother Asfandyar (Haider Sultan) enters her life. Also playing an important role is Ali Afzal. Hiba ALi is doing the role of Faiqa’s sister named Rabia.

After the festivity of  Holi , the city witnesses another colourful  event Gulab Bari ,a speciality of the city  that presents music concert amidst the shower of rose petals.

A music concert ( semiclassical) was held on Sunday April 5 at Gopi Kunj in Varanasi.

O que é esse sentimento a que chamamos vida? Nós o controlamos? Ou somos controlados por ele? Como acontece na vida de qualquer ser humano, eu senti fome, diria até que estava faminto. Então, fiz o que era conveniente: dirigi meu carro, meu meio artificial de transporte, até um restaurante de comida indiana. Chamei a atendente e disse:
- Saí de casa com um desejo, uma ânsia, por comer Tali. Porém, parece que meu estômago mudou de idéia. Não é disso que se trata o caminho da vida? Não saímos ao mundo para obter o que desejamos, para adquirir o produto de nossos anseios? E, quando os satisfazemos, não sentimos a falta de alguma outra coisa? A humanidade sempre busca algo mais. Mais terras, mais comida, mais riquezas. Até mais tempo de vida para poder consumir mais coisas. E, como todo ser humano, no momento eu quero algo. Vi uma foto ali de um Gulab Jamun frito em água de rosas e senti vontade de degustá-lo, pois me parece mais apetitoso que comer apenas o Tali, mesmo sendo este o que me trouxe até aqui. Ele foi o catalizador que me conduziu ao meu destino, mas apenas para eu chegar aqui e mudar de curso e escolher o Gulab.
- “Um Tali e um Gulab Jamun saindo! Deseja mais alguma coisa?”
- Certamente! Sempre haverá mais o que desejar. Nunca cessaremos de querer algo, mesmo com toda a abundância e plenitude deste mundo. Não importa o que aconteça, há sempre algo que procuraremos ir atrás de conseguir. Seja comida, romance, ou papéis toalhas depois de derramar chá no carpete. Parece ser o nosso destino estarmos presos à gula. Será culpa nossa? Não pedimos para ter fome. Mas também não pedimos para viver num mundo tão cheio de objetos adequados para preencher-nos e satisfazer nossas necessidades e caprichos.
- “OK, já volto.”
Eu então esperei pelo meu cálice do santo Graal, o benefício último e próspero da minha fome. O Gulab seria minha Excalibur, o desejo que me permite continuar na minha busca. Sem ele, eu não poderia seguir pela noite e continuar a pesquisa de meu pai.
- “Aqui está, senhor.”
Por que, entre tantos indianos no mundo, era eu quem estava na América, tendo que ir a um restaurante típico de pratos indianos para comer o que na Índia seria-me muito mais barato de obter? Ou será que o destino me mandou a aquele lugar? Se Deus cria o destino e o conduz, então Deus é um Tali, pois o anseio por sorvê-lo foi o que me levou até lá. E é este mesmo Tali que me sustenta enquanto escrevo isto. Ele preenche minhas necessidades e anseios. E o Gulab me faz seguir adiante com o meu destino. Portanto, se é assim, então estou preparado para o desígnio de Deus em comê-Lo.