As
a
uniquely
multi-hyphenated
writer-director-lyricist-author,
Gulzar
has
built
a
reputation
across
multiple
spheres
of
film-making
and
literary
creative
endeavours.
Dinesh
Raheja
salutes
the
Master
who
turns
90
on
Sunday.
Gulzar
launches
a
series
of
paintings,
Ghalib
&
Gulzar
in
2015.
Photograph:
Sahil
Salvi
A
national
treasure,
Gulzar
celebrates
his
90th
birthday
on
August
18
but
as
he
himself
would
put
it:
Kaali
Badri
Jawani
Ki
Chatati
Nahin,
Dil
Toh
Achha
Hai
Ji.
His
mind
is
still
creatively
fertile.
Gulzar’s
recently
penned
patriotic
song
Badhte
Chalo
from
Sam
Bahadur
(2023)
gets
rotational
airplay
on
Independence
Day
and
the
renowned
wordsmith
continues
to
have
a
clutch
of
upcoming
assignments
in
hand.
Remaining
relevant
in
your
seventh
decade
in
films
is
a
rare
achievement
but
then
Gulzar’s
life
and
times
have
been
studded
with
unusual
milestones.
He
has
won
a
staggering
22
Filmfare
awards
and
was
also
awarded
the
Jnanpith,
India’s
highest
award
for
literature
in
2024.
Instantly
recognisable
in
his
impeccable
white
kurta-pyjama,
he
is
one
of
our
foremost
cultural
icons.
As
a
uniquely
multi-hyphenated
writer-director-lyricist-author,
Gulzar
has
built
a
reputation
across
multiple
spheres
of
film-making
and
literary
creative
endeavours.
Gulzar
first
scaled
creative
heights
as
a
screenplay
writer
with
Guddi
(1971)
and
Anand
(1971).
He
had
a
flair
for
penning
incisive
dialogue.
Rajesh
Khanna’s
delivery
of
Gulzar’s
line
from
Anand:
‘Babu
Moshai,
zindagi
badi
honi
chahiye,
lambi
nahin‘
has
been
immortalised
by
innumerable
reiterations.
Sanjeev
Kumar
and
Jaya
Bhaduri
in
Koshish.
When
Gulzar
moved
on
to
film
direction
in
the
1970s,
he
helmed
several
classics
as
varied
as
Koshish
(on
the
lives
and
dreams
of
the
differently
abled),
Aandhi
(on
the
pull
exerted
by
the
road
not
taken,
the
alternate
life
not
led)
and
Angoor
(a
merry
mix
up
of
mistaken
identities).
He
has
also
penned
highly
regarded
novels
and
poetry
collections.
But
arguably,
Gulzar
is
most
beloved
for
his
numerous
song
lyrics
crafted
over
65
years;
a
treasure
trove
which
speak
of
his
deep
humanity
and
sensitivity.
Like
the
great
Hindi
film
lyricists
before
him,
Gulzar
continued
the
tradition
of
treating
song
writing
as
an
art.
In
songs
such
as
Aye
Zindagi
Gale
Laga
Le
or
Dil
Dhoondta
Hai,
Gulzar’s
lyrics
give
expression
to
the
nuances
in
our
emotions
which
we
are
ourselves
barely
aware
of,
till
we
magically
recognise
them
in
Gulzar’s
words.
This
sensitivity
was
integral
to
Gulzar’s
mental
make-up
right
from
his
childhood.
Nutan
in
the
song
Mora
Gora
Ang
Laile
from
Bimal
Roy’s
Bandini,
a
song
Gulzar
wrote.
Born
Sampooran
Singh
Kalra
in
pre-Independence
Punjab,
he
lost
his
mother
at
the
age
of
one
and
this
affected
him
deeply.
Reading
the
great
litterateurs
like
Tagore
was
a
passion
and
as
he
grew
up,
he
began
pouring
out
his
feelings
on
paper.
The
Partition
of
the
country
brought
his
family
to
India
and
Gulzar
had
to
work
odd
jobs
at
a
motor
garage.
But
he
did
not
give
up
on
his
creative
pursuits.
As
part
of
the
Progressive
Writers
Association,
he
came
in
touch
with
renowned
personalities
like
Lyricist
Shailendra
and
Director
Bimal
Roy.
This
led
to
Gulzar
breaking
through
as
a
lyricist
with
such
feelingly
written
songs
as
the
deeply
philosophical
Ganga
Aaye
Kahan
Se
(from
the
Roy-produced
Kabuliwala,
1961)
and
the
romantic
Mora
Gora
Ang
Laile
(in
the
Roy-directed
Bandini,
1963)
which
is
flush
with
imagery
and
had
his
favourite
muse,
the
moon,
as
a
motif.
He
conceived
the
song
while
staring
at
the
moon.
Gulzar
was,
however,
not
an
instant
success.
The
lyricists
of
the
golden
age
of
Hindi
film
music
were
well
established
and
only
the
occasional
opportunity
to
write
a
song
came
Gulzar’s
way.
As
the
decade
grew
older,
he
worked
as
an
assistant
with
Bimal
Roy
and
then
became
a
dialogue
writer,
most
notably
with
Hrishikesh
Mukherji’s
Aashirwad
(1968).
He
moved
on
to
scripting
and
writing
the
dialogue
for
Mukherji’s
twin
1971
triumphs,
Anand
and
Guddi
before
becoming
a
director
himself
the
next
year.
Gulzar
fashioned
his
own
experimental
directorial
style,
adjacent
to
the
commercial
film
format,
and
festooned
with
memorable
songs.
He
directed
his
first
film
Mere
Apne
(1972),
with
the
support
of
his
close
friend,
Meena
Kumari,
who
played
the
silver-haired
Nanimaa,
the
beating
heart
of
the
film
about
two
warring
street
gangs.
Koshish
(1972)
with
Sanjeev
Kumar
and
Jaya
Bhaduri
playing
a
deaf
mute
couple
garnered
National
Awards
for
both
Gulzar
and
Sanjeev
Kumar,
and
Gulzar’s
star
was
rapidly
on
the
rise.
Jeetendra
and
Hema
Malini
in
Khushboo.
Stars
like
Jeetendra
(Parichay,
Khushboo,
Kinara)
and
Hema
Malini
(Khushboo,
Kinara,
Meera)
now
turned
to
his
directorial
ventures
to
gain
histrionic
validation.
In
the
midst
of
this
directorially
rewarding
phase,
Gulzar
married
popular
film
actress
Raakhee
in
1973
and
fathered
his
daughter,
Meghna.
His
marriage
proved
short-lived
but
Gulzar
threw
himself
into
his
work
and
ignited
a
successful
streak
of
classic
films.
The
auteur
built
on
his
acclaimed
body
of
work
with
three
films
circa
1975:
Aandhi,
Khushboo
and
Mausam.
Each
of
these
films
featured
Gulzar’s
fascination
for
characters
watching
life
slip
by,
while
waiting
for
their
particular
form
of
fulfilment.
Gulzar
repeatedly
employed
the
cinematic
device
of
flashback
as
a
narrative
technique
in
Khushboo,
Aandhi,
Mausam,
Achanak
and
Lekin
but
never
allowed
the
complexities
of
life
to
be
reduced
to
a
formula.
His
cinema
tapped
different
genres,
whether
it
was
the
rollicking
comedy
Angoor
(1982)
or
the
drama
Maachis
(1996),
but
his
films
were
primarily
psychologically
adept
examination
of
human
relationships.
He
could
also
be
wickedly
satirical.
In
Guddi,
Hindi
film
fangirl
Jaya
Bhaduri
declares,
‘Yeh
shaadi
nahin
ho
sakti.
Mujhe
majboor
mat
karo.’
And
in
Angoor,
Sanjeev
asks
his
double
if
he
has
a
birthmark
on
his
right
shoulder.
‘Nahin?
Toh
phir
hum
dono
bhai
huye.’
Aishwarya
Rai
Bachchan
in
the
song
Kajra
Re
from
the
film Bunty
Aur
Babli.
Even
in
his
busiest
phase
in
the
1970s,
Gulzar
continued
to
pen
songs
for
other
film-makers.
In
the
new
millennium,
after
he
hung
up
his
boots
as
a
director,
he
has
emerged
as
an
enormously
successful
lyricist.
Gulzar’s
name
on
a
soundtrack
is
recognised
as
a
stamp
of
quality
music.
Gulzar’s
poetry
cover
a
wide
spectrum.
It
can
be
insightful
(Tujhse
Naaraaz
Nahin
Zindagi)
or
saucy
(Kajra
Re;
Beedi
Jalaile).
But
there
are
certain
familiar
and
much
loved
aspects
to
his
lyrics.
For
instance,
there
are
those
characteristic
flights
of
fancy
(Jab
Taare
Zameen
Par
Chalte
Hain,
Bolo
Dekha
Hai
Kabhi
Mujhe
Udte
Huey,
Chhaon
Chham
Ke
Neeche
Kudi
Haske
Boli
Aaiye)
and
imaginative
metaphors
(Raat
Ka
Ghunghat
Utrega,
Dil
Khali
Khali
Bartan
Hai,
Ik
Chand
Ke
Takiye
Tale).
Romantic
lyrics
by
Gulzar
are
redolent
with
the
awakening
of
all
the
senses
(Geela
Paani)
but
in
particular,
the
evocative
sense
of
smell
(In
Aankhen
Ki
Mehakti
Khushboo,
Aap
Ki
Aankhon
Mein
Kuch
Mehke
Huey
Se
Raaz
Hai,
Gili
Mehndi
Ki
Khushboo,
Woh
Yaar
Hai
Jo
Khushboo
Ki
Tarah).
And
there
are
his
favourite
poetic
leitmotifs:
Time,
tears,
the
moon,
clouds,
rains.
A
delicate
word
like
lamhe
lights
up
different
songs:
Ik
Baar
Waqt
Se
Lamha
Gira
Kahin,
Aankhen
Mein
Bheege
Bheege
Se
Lamhe
Liye
Huey,
Yeh
Lamha
Filhaal
Jee
Lene
De.
One
can
tweak
a
famous
song
of
Gulzar’s
for
his
signature:
Mere
Alfaaz
Hi
Pehchaan
Hai.