Here’s my belated commentary of Ravi’s song Yeh Raate yeh mausam in Dilli ka thug sung by Kishore Kumar and Asha Bhonsle, lyrics by Majrooh Sultanpuri (I had promised it to Suja! Cf. here). Below you'll find the video, the lyrics and their translation.

The song happens in the film as Asha, the film’s heroine, has started to notice enough of Kumar’s qualities to soften her appreciation of him. This has especially taken place during the gorgeous song C.A.T. Cat maane billi in which the two spoof a learner’s alphabet book, and spring, dance and bounce accordingly. The fun contained in this song is still felt as we see the two on the terrace at the beginning of Ye raate. Asha asks Kumar to go home, and he taunts her as to what might happen if he doesn’t leave. She pushes him away and turns her back to him, pretending to be angry at his wilful disobedience. Then, behind her, he begins the song:

Yeh raatein, yeh mausam, nadi ka kinara, yeh chanchal hawa

and she turns her still irate demeanour towards him. But this soon melts, and we see Kumar, gloriously enjoying his effect, opening his arms to the wonder of love, so evidently pleased of everything about her and their new relationship. But soon he’s the one surprised: for she takes up the song’s melody, and he springs up to meet her, walking to her as he repeats the invocation to the night breeze, to the moon shining down on them, whose pale rays are reflected on the sands of the riverside. The magic can begin. How many times have lovers in the history of the world, sung the time, the place, the hour of their love? How many have done so, knowing they were creating an everlasting memento to a past they would relish to revisit, which they knew was fleeting, should be tasted at its full, and yet represented an immortal present from which suffering and death was excluded?

Kaha do dilon ne, yeh milkar kabhi ham, na honge judaa

The creation of love asks nothing from anything else in the world but its own passionate tenderness, its own words, its own renewal in the eyes of the beloved. Its eternity belongs to the abolition of time while it is being created, celebrated and devoured. It is like the sun: the sun will continue to shine almost forever, as long as there’s thermonuclear energy to fuel it; love too will illuminate the lovers as long as its energy, pouring forth from both hearts and souls, fuels in them enough response to burn and live. Meanwhile, time stops, and there is light. Light in the darkness of infinite space and warmth in the coldness of deepest emptiness. Kishore’s happy smiling face is like a sun, full of life and meaning. His mirth glows and warms anybody who has kept a child’s heart, a heart young enough to understand that what a clown does is precisely create life against the ugliness and sadness of the void. And in front of him beams a feminine cosmic reflection; between them is now visible the exchange of life and light and meaning that makes up our human world possible.

Nutan – I cannot be an admirer of her beauty and everlasting charm without once more insisting on the ravishing feminine creature she was. Look at that fleeting moment when her half-cross disposition has just melted away and she starts to sing the tune, closing her eyes to the melody and slowly opening them on the man she has finally recognized as a passionate and lovable human being (and no longer the exasperating prankster who used to make her angry at each of his appearances). The “mmm” she hums at that short moment, which opens up on the quiet and confident smile that follows, contains the absolute certainty which will be hers throughout the song. This smile is as caressing and sweet as any lover would want his angel beauty to smile: looking at him as she does, one knows for certain that what is now happening is life and love mingled into that overpowering feeling of rapturous generosity that (I hope) all lovers have at least once felt, when their love tells them through each square inch of her (or his) face: I know I love you, and I am going to make you happy forever. What happens when happiness desires only one thing: to make its source of happiness as happy as it is, and goes about the business of showing it? A thrill of joy, a rapture, a flush of desire and gratefulness that blots out everything else.  

This must be what Asha feels when, having briefly met hands with her companion, she moves away a little and dances on the melody before him. Nutan’s figure wasn’t anything extraordinary, I don’t mind to say, but she was tall and nimble, with a healthy fullness which all lovers of maternal femininity will appreciate I’m sure. Even in fact by the standards of the time, she was considered almost skinny! Anyway for me her utter grace is all what matters. I find it just entrancing when she does that perfectly timed double turn on herself before she sings:

Yeh kya baat hai aaj ki chandni me?

Then she repeats the line, and I see both the young girl and the lady in her half-teasing, half-serious looks, which shine like a marvel of creation encircled by her subtly wavy hair and lovely white flower. Perhaps I have said this elsewhere (yes, here), but I would like to say that one thing which attracts me to Nutan is her happiness. This fundamental quality, which I ascribe to her blessed nature, and her moral virtue, creates a perfection in her features, a simplicity, a balance, and one follows her, mesmerized as she moves space and time along with her. Happiness makes the soul visible on one’s face. You can easily spot a happy person because she radiates a gratefulness for the life she enjoys, and the love she feels, even if she isn’t actually “in love” at that moment. But in a sense, a happy person is in love, in love with Life past, present and future. On that person’s face, you can “see” the transcendence of life within her, her happiness makes her person glow with life and love, like God himself. Happiness is the wordless language of love, the radiation of creation of life itself.

Ke ham kho gaye pyar ki raagni me

When she rejoins Kishore, he can only admit of the miracle happening before his very eyes, and both of them sing together the rest of the couplet, fascinated by their mutual and complementary harmony:

Yeh baahon me bahen, yeh behki nigaahein

Lo aane laga zindagi ka maza…

Yeh raatein, yeh mausam, nadi ka kinara, yeh chanchal hawa

Then begins the romance. The violins sing, the breeze blows, the voices hush, the palms gently sway. Everything melts away but the exchange of looks, the eyes that speak better than any worldly tongue could speak. The lovers have no lyrics to mouth one for the other, so their only possible reason for standing one in front of the other is the pure pleasure of contemplation. I have always preferred Kishore in at this moment, even though I’m head over heels in awe for the actress. But Kishore’s face! How I love it here! If you have the whole film in mind, and the almost infinite succession of “faces” he pulls all along, I think you can better appreciate the contrast of this moment of eternity. He’s benevolence and gentleness made man; there’s a goodness, a tranquillity and a faithfulness which I think I have never seen so beautifully and simply expressed. His eyes shine softly, his mouth is closed because there is nothing necessary to be said: everything is being said in front of him; and his half-smile conveys his complete trustworthiness. Asha’s sheer beauty in front of him could make him gasp and cry, but he just takes it in, because he has recognized it: her love comes from the deep well of loving femininity, of life-giving and life-asking beauty which a man can always refuse: but here Kishore is telling her his plain and profound yes. Yes, he will begin the old story of love anew, yes he will be there for her all along the years, yes he will take care of her in good times and bad times, yes she can depend on him completely.

Then comes the eternal picture of Nutan’s dreamy beauty: filled with happiness, she lets herself gaze upon his face, but quickly we see her abandon her smile and become serious too. Her eyes are still full of light, but she’s seen something different in her friend: is it something masculine which her feminine nature recognizes as vaguely invasive? Is it because she understands the depth of his commitment, and is suddenly filled with the feeling of her indignity? Or because she’s wondering whether what she is actually going through is too full, too beautiful and must be a dream? Perhaps also it is her own happiness which, reverberating on itself, makes her realize how fortunate she is, and how very few people on Earth share such bliss? Whatever it is, it doesn’t last too long and a new smile lights up her face before she turns round.

Sitaron ki mehfil ne karke ishara

Kaha ab to saara jahaan hai tumhara

Mohobbat jawaan ho, khula aasman ho

Kare koi dil aarzoo aur kya

Yeh raatein, yeh mausam, nadi ka kinara, yeh chanchal hawa

I’m repeating myself, but in Nutan this very rare mixture of beauty and happiness shines so amazingly (and yet so calmly)! It forms the essence of this song. She possesses a Leonardo face, okay, but then many other beautiful women also do. Even if this can make a poet speechless, because beauty at its best beckons to a world of perfection which our language cannot hope to evoke fully, it’s only nature’s work, and man hasn’t got much part in it. But happiness belongs to us; it is the result of our best efforts at bringing together what we have been given and what we give. We know that happiness makes people become beautiful, even if they’re naturally rather plain. This condition brings about a metamorphosis of our nature, or one might say, it brings it to its accomplished state; there is nothing greater in the whole world than the beauty of a blissful person. This person has reached the goal of creation: God has created us for us to beam a happiness with which He will fall in love. Well now join the two gifts together, a natural perfection of features, and the divine luminescence coming from the inner agreement of who one is and what one does: this is what I see in Nutan. On her face is apparent a glimpse of Paradise, Beatrice’s features guiding Dante through the circles towards the stars, or even the immortal glory of the Virgin Mary resplendent with the love of her Maker.

Kare koi dil aarzoo aur kya

Yeh raatein, yeh mausam, nadi ka kinara, yeh chanchal hawa

Continuing our remarks about the song, there is a moment when both lovers take advantage of a short interval to waltz on the terrace, and after a lovely twirl around him, the young lady sits on the couch. The amorous camera comes close to her while she sings this request

Kasam hai tumhe tum, agar mujhse roothe

Rahe saath jab tak yeh bandan na toote

And we are bathed once again in the sfumato of her incredible charm, a charm that is stronger than any other human power on Earth. Neither Monarchs nor Emperors, nor all the pomp and magnificence of princely palaces and capital cities can fathom this deepest (yet simple) domination: a woman’s beauty in love with her chosen one. Here Nutan’s eyes have the fragrance of roses and jasmine, her lips the taste of mango and guava, her cheeks the freshness of more sweet flowers and tender fruit, like the adorable Queen in the Song of Songs. Her Prince moves behind her, she reclines towards him, abandoning herself to his kneeling presence, and they both make this pledge:

Rahe saath jab tak yeh bandan na toote

Tumhe dil diya hai, yeh waada kiya hai

Sanam mai tumhari rahoongi sada

And while they sing, a sort of darkness envelops them, her eyes become warm flames in the night. Her contentment, their softly joined hands, Kishore’s serious manly face compose a tableau worthy of any romantic rendition of Romeo and Juliet, but with a serenity that the two doomed lovers could not share in this world.

This song has enjoyed tremendous success. It was one among the few which I recognized in shops and garages during our trip to India last year, and if you research it on the net, here is what you’ll find!! These 15 different versions are surely only the tip of the iceberg.

Manohar Bijor & Sangeeta Shenoy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZOYESXo65A&feature=related

Two versions by same singer but with a different female voice: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOsdai-2dZk&feature=related and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xg6TFNeEzkU&feature=related

A beautiful version (Jayanti Nadig & Sridhar Subbarao)with an echo and pictures of the everlasting scene: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UKvS4Rgu2Ng&feature=related

A version accompanied by traditional instruments (Manas Vandana Chakravarty) : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9QJpj9hXEH4&feature=related

A version with outdoor modern orchestra: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cUYDNReMcaI&feature=related

Another with slight instrumental variations: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vugabdUE8gA&feature=related

Another (low quality recording but very pleasant)  by Gaurav Bangya : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtYMdrOlAsc&feature=related

Murali Narayanan : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8eqefyIp-fk&feature=related

Choreographed version at Geet-Rung School of Dance and Music, Atlanta : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ReIvcWA_SKI&feature=related

A family rendition, without any instruments : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtqy7UwX2ME&feature=related

A nice version, with feel good “new age” pictures http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gb4GK7KF2-8&feature=related

The original song with devanagari lyrics unfolding with the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NalnqvDNysM&feature=related

A grandfather and his little grand-daughter: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4CGEoJz1oDg&feature=related

A whistled version by Rajesh Koppikar! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k92R8yT7iSk&feature=related

Some more here: http://songforever.com/search/video/1/ye+raatien+ye+mousam.html

I don’t know whether many of you were really interested about the “little quiz” which I had posted at the beginning of May. Well, anyway here’s the answer; the text in Gujarati was from the Pater Noster church in Jerusalem where I went during the Easter vacation , and it is the transcription of the Lord’s prayer. That convent can be found on the Mount of Olives , and it said to be the place where the Ascension took place, and where Jesus might have taught his prayer to his disciples.  

Inside and all around the church, there are mosaics of more than 120 versions of the Lord’s prayer, in as many different languages. Here’s a view of the place:

And here the mosaics are visible between the arches.

(Well, if you squint)