The
garden
(gulzar)
is
in
full
bloom.
With
constant
mutation
brought
about
by
changing
times
and
trends,
Gulzar's
lyrics
have
issued
forth
virtually
as
a
new
species
of
poetic
flowers
in
verse.
The
only
commonality
between
the
Gulzar
of
Omkara,
Jaan-E-Mann
and
Guru
and
the
earlier
Gulzar
is
the
instantly
identifiable
colour
scheme.
But
the
palette
is
fresh,
and
the
fragrance
perhaps
a
little
more
alluring
this
time.
We
catch
the
poet-writer-director,
who
has
just
won
the
Hero
Honda
Star
Screen
Best
Lyricist
trophy
for
'Beedi
jalayale...'
from
Omkara,
in
an
expansive
mood
as
he
elaborates
on
his
journey
with
changing
times,
trends,
thoughts
and
tones.
Excerpts.
You
expressed
your
reservations
about
being
awarded
for
'Beedi
jalayale...'
from
Omkara
at
the
nomination
stage.
I
would
like
to
say
that
there
is
no
denying
the
importance
of
'Beedi
jalayale...'
as
a
song
and
in
my
career.
There
is
also
no
degrading
or
demeaning
the
importance
of
the
Screen
award
or
its
jury.
It
is
just
that
in
every
film,
a
poet
has
his
own
preferences,
perhaps
brought
about
by
the
situation
and
how
much
and
what
kind
of
creative
efforts
he
made
on
each
song.
Last
year,
I
won
the
Screen
award,
not
for
'Kajraa
re...',
which
was
also
hugely
popular
from
Bunty
Aur
Babli,
but
for
'Naam
ada
likhna...'
from
Yahaan,
which
was
very
dear
to
me.
You
see
what
I
mean
-
in
the
Yahaan
song
I
got
to
use
some
imagery,
which
I
have
always
been
fond
of,
I
used
a
Kashmiri
phrase
or
two,
and
mentioned
Kashmir.
When
it
was
chosen
with
'Kajraa
re...'
as
one
of
the
other
nominations,
I
was
satisfied.
Once
again,
let
me
be
clear.
I
own
'Beedi
jalayale...'
and
'Kajraa
re...'
as
much
as
'Naam
ada
likhna...'
.
The
difference
lies
in
the
fact
that
a
poet
always
has
his
own
likes,
and
his
reasons
for
them.
You
also
mentioned
'Naina...',
'Namak
isaq
ka...'
and
'O
saathi
re...'
as
your
choices
from
Omkara.
I
think
that
Omkara
as
a
score
had
a
lot
of
variation
and
colours.
In
'O
saathi
re...'
I
have
used
some
rare
poetic
imagery
wherein
I
describe
sunset
by
saying
that
the
sky
is
slippery
so
that
the
sun
is
about
to
slide
into
the
water,
but
that
can
be
prevented
using
a
net
or
by
holding
it
on
one's
back.
The
lines
actually
go
as
follows:
('Thakaa
thakaa
suraj
jab
nadi
se
hokar
niklega...
Hari
hari
kaayi
pe
paanv
badhaa
to
phislega...
Tum
rok
ke
rakhna
main
jaal
giraoon...
Tum
pith
pe
lena
main
haath
lagaoon...
Din
doobe
na')
I
do
not
think
anyone
has
used
this
kind
of
imagery
before.
Similarly
in
'Naina
thug
lenge...'
I
use
the
parallel,
'Nainon
ki
zubaan
pe
bharosa
nahi
aata,
likhad
parakh
na
rasid
na
khaata...'
and
say
that
we
cannot
trust
what
the
eyes
say
because
there
is
no
document
in
writing,
no
receipt
and
no
account!
Do
you
feel
that
understanding
of
such
imageries,
Hindi
and
Urdu
in
general,
are
at
a
premium
nowadays,
and
you
need
a
Vishal
Bhardwaj
or
other
good
filmmakers
to
appreciate
and
incorporate
such
poetry?
Yes,
the
director
and
the
lyricist
need
to
go
into
the
backdrop
and
depth
of
the
film,
the
situation
and
the
characters.
I
am
supposed
to
be
notorious
for
taking
time
to
write
songs,
but
that
is
essential.
You
have
to
dig
to
get
water,
and
it
is
up
to
you
to
dig
only
a
little
and
find
some
moisture
or
go
deeper.
Of
course,
when
you
dig
deep
enough,
you
may
strike
oil!
But
generally
do
you
look
on
'item'
songs
as
compromises
made
with
reluctance,
and
are
they
more
difficult
to
write?
I
think
that
film
writing
is
a
popular
art,
and
the
whole
game
is
about
communication
with
the
masses.
'Item'
songs
are
like
situations
created
to
accommodate
a
popular
beat,
but
that's
for
the
music
director.
As
a
lyricist,
I
am
bound
in
every
case
by
the
situation,
the
story,
the
character
and
most
important,
the
language
fitting
to
that
character.
I
make
sure
that
the
song
has
to
be
in
the
same
idiom
as
the
character's
dialogues.
Within
these
parameters,
my
question
to
myself
would
be,
"What
freshness
can
I
bring
within
these
boundaries?" Let
us
take
the
example
of
the
title-song
of
Omkara.
I
have
not
written
it
just
in
a
rural
or
tribal
fashion,
but
in
the
style
of
Aala-Udhal.
Aala
and
Udhal
were
two
brave
Rajput
warriors
who
fought
against
the
Mughals,
and
even
today
in
Rajasthan,
ballads
are
sung
about
their
deeds,
and
these
songs
make
for
a
genre
of
their
own.
I
think
that
what
is
important
are
aesthetics.
'Beedi...'
and
'Kajra
re...'
may
be
visually
like
'item'
songs,
but
there
is
no
double-meaning
and
nothing
offensive
in
them.
The
choices
of
the
filmmakers
speak
for
themselves.
That
does
not
really
answer
my
question
of
whether
you
abhor
writing
at
the
out-and-out
mass
level.
Intentionally,
in
that
sense,
I
do
not
write
for
the
masses.
I
catch
the
situation
instead.
Some
of
the
words
I
employ
are
in
common
use
where
the
film
is
based,
even
if
the
city
person
may
not
know
them.
When
I
used
the
words
'lihaaf'
and
'gilaaf'
they
stand
for
a
garment
and
a
pillow-cover
respectively.
I
like
to
tread
uncharted
terrain.
In
'Beedi...'
itself
the
girl
says
that
because
she
is
beautiful
not
only
are
the
boys
teasing
and
flirting
with
her
but
the
shopkeepers
are
willing
to
sell
her
goods
on
credit
to
please
her.
I
used
the
word
'chhamiye'
which
means
young
men
in
colloquial
Hindi
and
baniye,
which
means
merchants.
You
have
also
stylized
the
use
of
English
today
in
songs,
beginning
with
'Kajraa
re...'.
In
Khamoshi
(1969)
I
had
used
the
phrase
'My
sister'
because
it
was
needed.
I
have
never
used
English
as
a
gimmick.
I
have
started
using
English
words
and
phrases
when
they
seem
natural
and
normal
in
context.
That
is
why
the
use
is
seamless,
because
that's
how
most
of
us
talk
today.
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