Shukratara to Meri Madhubala
Songs can bring back a flurry of emotions and memories, like the time I had to sing in front of millions of people or a reminder of a specific movie.
Then there are also other songs that take me to a completely different place, like when my brother belts out an aggressive Skepta rap song in the kitchen and it takes me from there to somewhere as far away as possible. Marathi songs literally have a charm of their own, maybe it’s because I am Marathi that I feel closer to them but there are a few which really stand out from my memory.
The earliest Marathi songs I remember hearing were Nimbonichya Jhadamage and the evergreen Shukratara Mandavara sung to me by my baba when everything else failed to get me to go to sleep. Growing up with a baba who sings beautifully meant that most of my life I assumed songs sounded exactly like how he would sing them – full of emotion, calming and sweet to the ear, looking back I wish I never sought out to find the original version of certain songs. I found out that Shukratara Mandavara was originally sung by Arun Date and Sudha Malhotra and from the first minute I could tell this song was ancient. There’s the echoing tabla in the background, the screechy strings and the long bridges of music between verses. I was eagerly waiting for a smooth, deep voice to start off the male verse…I am sure that Date ajoba was a lovely person but I am equally sure that I wish I never heard the original version of this song. Melodious as his voice was, my ears definitely weren’t ready to hear a softer and totally different warble style of singing, probably just not used to it.
Speaking of talented ajobas the most confusing Marathi song I think I have every heard has to be “Mi Raat Takli” wonderfully sung by Lata Mangeshkar and composed by Hridaynath Mangeshkar. It’s particularly the “Hirawya paanaant, hirwya paanaant chaawnl chaawnl chaalati” bit that makes me question whether I am even singing the right notes or if I have just gone off on a total tangent. One of my many regrets is never being able to tell Hridaynath ajoba that I love this song, especially when he was somehow in my kitchen one day. To this day I have no idea how this happened but Hridaynath ajoba was having tea in the morning with baba and I casually sauntered downstairs completely hungover looking for something, anything, to eat. Whenever elderly Indian people come to the house it is totally normal for me to assume that we must be related unless I am told otherwise. I walked into the kitchen and baba casually said “Natasha this is Hridaynath ajoba”…there are two ways in which I greet old people
1) Relatives: a massive hug followed by “ajiiii/ajobaaa it’s been so long”
2) Non relatives: Respectful hello normally accompanied with the feet touch thing and a sheepish smile
In this instance I went with the first option, running up to ajoba and grabbing him in a bear hug and adding the “hallo ajoba kasa ahes it’s been so long”…it’s safe to say that since then I have decided to stick with option 2 forever so that I at least appear to be totally normal. After finding out who he actually was I couldn’t bring myself to start fan-girling over him about songs when I had nearly crushed him to death five minutes before.
I used to think that Marathi songs typically must be lullabies, from what I could see they were always very slow and sung with a limited number of instruments, our good friend the harmonium is going to be a recurring mention in these blogs and also nearly every old Marathi song, there’s no surprise there. However, I will say that if you want to really get Maharashtrian people out of their chairs and dancing at functions before they start falling asleep, “Reshmachya Reghani” is perfect. In fact, anything Asha Bhosle is perfect, she has that shy “come hither” type of butterfly voice that gives the song a flirty and cute angle. If anybody has been to a Marathi function where they have seen a person sing this song on a stage, they will definitely remember a mob of uncles charging to the dance floor screaming “AHA WAHA YAHUH” the minute they realise what song it is. I have only sung this song once on stage at my best friend’s wedding, one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. The thing is, I can speak Marathi but to sing a song like this in Marathi for somebody who isn’t used to speaking it constantly is incredibly difficult, I think I grew a triple chin and a lisp from simply practising it in my room. Indeed when I got on stage to sing it however, the same thing happened – ironically very few women danced to this song but all the uncles in the room started shimmying violently as if they were wearing actual saris while roaring “WAHAAAAAA” as loud as possible before eventually retiring to the bar to have a drink and regrow their voice boxes.
The turning point to my view on Marathi songs was in 2004, it was a normal day and we were driving to the mango smuggler on Ilford Lane when baba said “listen to this song it’s by a kind of trendy guy called Avadhoot Gupte”. Now, when I heard the name Avadhoot Gupte I immediately thought “ah yes here we go, another date-type”, this was reinforced when baba showed me the album cover of a curly haired person with a huge grin and glasses, almost like a friendly Paresh Rawal. Baba played the song and it just started off as a hindi song, “Tujhe dekh ke meri Madhubala” but after two seconds more, my eyes dilated at the “mera mann ye pagal ZHAAALAAAAA”, I thought "aha! There's the Marathi I was waiting for!" and it was in that minute that I knew I could listen to Marathi songs with the car windows open. This was the point I realised Maharashtrians were now making cool songs, songs that clumsy teenagers like me could listen to without feeling like they were involuntarily thrown into a time machine. The song Meri Madhubala quickly became one of my favourite modern Marathi anthems to the point where I would find myself doing my homework and humming “phullallallallallallallallalla” or randomly screaming “WOLA”. My hopes for the future of Marathi songs was also reinforced when I listened to the song “Radha hi Bawari” by Swapnil Bandodkar, who also happens to be Avadhoot Gupte’s twin. Well, he used to, except that now Avadhoot Gupte is in the cool guy-beard phase so it’s harder to tell.
If someone were to mention “Ajay-Atul” to me there really is only one song that comes to mind, which is “Ekdantaay Vakratundaya” one of the greatest tributes I have ever heard to Ganpati in my life and a song that comes with a slightly random memory. I would assume that most people relate this song to a religious event they went to, or that it reminds them of when they went to war but it couldn’t be further from what I am about to write. Not long ago my parents had discovered another Maharashtrian family living in Switzerland (random right, I think they must have met at some Maharashtrian uncle gathering) called the Arondekars/Ashish kaka and Vaishnavi kaku; and after becoming fast friends the Arondekars somehow hypnotised my parents into developing a habit of staying at their house in Switzerland and skiing every year. Skiing sounds leisurely and relaxing until you realise that you have to wake up at 4 am to dress in hefty ski gear before driving to a mountain and throwing yourself at cheetah-speed down a slope. In fact, it was mainly the waking up at 4 am that was a hassle, strictly speaking that’s the time I tend to sleep on weekends rather than wake up at. Ashish kaka could have easily woken us all up with a hot cup of tea, maybe by switching the news on and calling everybody downstairs for breakfast. But no. He had tactfully placed surround sound system speakers in each room of the house including the bathrooms and he would blast Ekdantaay Vakratundaya on repeat forcing all of us to dart out of our beds as if we were having a unified spazz attack, with “Gajeshanaya Bhalchandraya Shree Ganeshaya dhimahi” bellowing in the background. In my state of shock, I would shuffle to the bathroom to splash water on my face, my eyes starting to close slowly until the volume would suddenly be turned up and I would be woken up again by “PA SAAAAAAAAA” as the song would start its second loop. This was never a song I had taken the time to genuinely listen to regardless how good it is but Ashish kaka proved that certain Marathi songs can be used for listening as well as alarm tones.
Marathi songs can sometimes be incomplete without the dancing and there is literally nobody else currently who can do an Ajay-Atul song justice like Sonalee Kulkarni can. When I saw her dancing so gracefully in the music video for Apsara Aali in Natarang I made the mistake of trying to copy the moves before nearly dislocating my hip and then gave up after twenty seconds. I can safely say that I was wise not to bother attempting the moves to Wajle ki Bara, trying to copy Amruta Khanvilkar's totally seamless moves would have made me dislocate everything else - I think I’ll leave the dancing to the experts.
However, the minute Zingaat starts playing I cannot help but leap out of my chair and start thrusting my hands in the air like I’m punching the sky. This song is like the modern day “Macarena” for Maharashtrians which can change any chilled out family party into a heaving mosh pit of fierce aerobics. Especially the “jinjingjingjinjingjingjinGAAT” bit. In every family party/wedding I have been to, this song has been played no less than five times and while it can get repetitive it is a fantastic way to burn five hundred calories in three minutes.
What will always be timeless about Marathi songs however is the depth of emotion they can make you feel regardless if you understand the words or not – a perfect example of this is the song “Hee Anokhi Gaath from Mahesh Manjrekar’s movie “Panghrun”. While I only have a faint idea of what the song is actually about, everything from the slow drumming beat to the heart-wrenching melody, to the way Gauri Ingawale’s expressions accentuate the song’s music video makes me excited and eager to listen to many more upcoming masterpieces from our musically talented Maharashtrian artists.
On a side note – if there is anybody out there potentially thinking about trying out the Apsara Aali/Wajle ki Bara dance moves I would suggest buying a back brace on Amazon first before you potentially sprain something.
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