Tooth Fairy. Root Canal.

I'm once again hit by the urge to write. Type rather, who writes anymore? I'm wondering how long it'll take before people forget how to hold a pen- I realised the other day that extended writing gives me substantial discomfort these days, and proud as I am of my handwriting (much improved since just before the Class X Boards to ensure 100% legibility, while still retaining the proper 'grown up' look), typing is just so much easier.

Speaking of discomfort, I come to the title of this post. I have recently discovered that brushing twice a day, for as long as I can remember has failed me miserably, and I had to visit the dentist in search of the reason behind the massive dental pain that I have been feeling since last night. I was under the impression that the agony might have been the direct result of a stray hand, flung out in either revelry, or violence, or simply in the search for that sneaky little bastard called balance (which seems to desert at the first signs of inebriation), all of which were on display in abundance. But I was corrected and was shown a fancy X Ray of my tooth with a black spot in it which apparently signalled to just one thing: Root Canal required. Which angers me to no extent; and makes me question the sanity of the 'brush twice a day, and you're fine' wisdom. The Tooth Fairy bit's in there just for kicks- I mean, who calls a post Root Canal- that seems like the wrong way to begin any post intended for public consumption.

Anyhow, I've noticed a fair bit of digression from the original intent behind writing this post- and it happens to be a review of a couple of songs. I've been on a 1950s hindi movie trip over the past few weeks, and recently rediscovered the music from the movie Dil Deke Dekho (1959). The first song I heard was the truly magnificent 'Hum aur Tum aur Yeh Sama'. Youtube thankfully provides the song and it may be found by clicking here. The other song is the foot tapping 'Bolo Bolo Kuch To Bolo'. To access the video for the latter, click here. Other than having an alliterative name, the movie also includes some further points worthy of note:

• The music director is a lady called Usha Khanna. who is possibly (and sadly) one of the least known music directors in our industry. Much more impressive than the fact that she was a woman (feminists would have me for breakfast if I left it just there), she was only 18 when she composed this absolute masterpiece. And she worked with Mohammad Rafi. Respect. Also, a photo of her with the two greatest male vocalists in our film industry can be found here.
• The sound on Bolo Bolo, especially the intro before the lyrics start is absolutely mind blowing. The trumpet is used beautifully, and the follow up percussion leading into the lyrics are both in sync with the sound being developed in the world of Jazz then.
• This was Asha Parekh’s debut movie. She would go on to rule hearts for the best part of the next two decades, and would come back on screen with Shammi Kapoor for other movies, like the ridiculously entertaining Teesri Manzil.
• Shammi Kapoor was already rocking the white shoes (as visible in both songs), white shirt and white trousers look when Jeetendra was still a fresh faced teenager making his debut in a side role in Navrang. In ‘Hum aur tum aur yeh sama’, he looks ready to take off for a casual game of tennis at Wimbledon as soon as other, more pressing matters like getting the girl are dealt with. Poor guy just never got the credit for it. In fact, he was just as prone to gyrating on screen in a manner resembling an overenthusiastic warm up session for a long day at the gym as Jeetendra. Who the hell gave Jeetendra the trademark over ‘Jumping Jack Jeetu’ anyway? If it weren’t for the convenient alliteration that his nickname happens to be blessed with, maybe more people would have recognised him for the copycat he was.
• In fact, Shammi Kapoor’s screen image was well and truly cool;  he seems to follow a smart, well measured, balls-to-the-world  approach to love. I mean, who the hell back then (in the era when everyone in Hindi Cinema appears to have overdosed on Hans Christian Andersen, thereby ensuring that every love story, once begun, had to continue happily ever after), had the guts to say to the girl ‘Pyaar ho toh keh do yes, pyaar nahi to keh do no, phir jo ho ho so ho’. It really is wonderfully simple, yes or no, to hell with the consequences. (In all fairness, I should really be giving credit to the lyrics writers Majrooh-Sultanpuri; for all you know Shammi Kapoor had just as much of a propensity to alcohol and violence and tears as most jilted lovers these days; again amply on display at the party I attended last night)
• For those really into old Hindi cinema music, if you find a similarity between Usha Khanna’s sound and that of OP Nayyar, that should not be too much of a surprise, as she was one of the great man’s protégés. Saying that, at 18 she seems to have done extraordinarily well.

Though the film also features other songs, including the title track, these two are my favourites, and by themselves make listening to the entire album worthwhile.

Dil Deke Dekho (1959)- Shammi Kapoor, Asha Parekh

Music Rating-  Most definitely a 3.5/5. Thoroughly enjoyable, and the resemblance to OP Nayyar does the songs no harm at all. In fact, for those who enjoy music from old hindi cinema, it only adds a bit of familiarity, which is not such a bad thing.