On his 102nd birth anniversary, a look back at 5 Sahir Ludhianvi's songs about women

Waheeda Rehman and Guru Dutt in 'Pyaasa'. (Image source: Twitter/Pyaasa_Movie)

Born on March 8, 1921, the poet-lyricist Sahir Ludhianvi would have been 102 today. Unfortunately, Sahir left us a little too early, in 1980, at the relatively young age of 59. However, his film songs, given their hard-hitting nature, continue to inspire millions even today. Sahir’s ability to articulate bitter truths in a no-holds barred manner made him unlike any other lyricist before or after him.

(Image by Government of India via Wikimedia Commons 3.0)

Even within the overall body of his work, Sahir was particularly empathetic to the persecuted woman figure. This could have been because of his own life experience or just a concerned individual writing the obvious truth staring him in the face. Irrespective of the source of his influence, these songs force the listener to sit up and think. As we celebrate International Women’s Day, here are five Sahir songs that express the sad condition of the exploited woman, the tormented mother and the much-abused courtesan.

‘Jinhe naaz hai Hind par vo kahaan hain?’ (Pyaasa, 1957)

Among the finest songs written by Sahir Ludhianvi. As the despondent poet Vijay (played by Guru Dutt) makes his way through a street teeming with brothels, he laments the rampant exploitation of women, irrespective of age and demographic.

‘Madad chaahti hai yeh Hawwa ki beti, Yashoda ki humjins, Radha ki beti,’ (These daughters of Eve, the sisters of Yashoda and Radha's daughters cry out for help) sings Vijay, but he is aware that his anguish falls on deaf ears. The only thing that matters in these bylanes where flesh trade is rife are ‘sikkon ki jhankaar’ (the sound of money) and ‘saudon pe taqraar’ (haggling).

While Sahir holds a stark mirror to society through this classic song, the resignation in his tone is palpable. He isn’t asking a question as much as wailing about the sorry state of affairs that confront women who exist on the margins of society.

‘Aurat ne janam diya mardon ko, mardon ne usey baazaar diya’ (Sadhana, 1958)

There may have been other songs by Sahir Ludhianvi that gained more popularity, but the poet-lyricist was at his scathing best in this B.R. Chopra film. While ‘Jinhe naaz hai Hind par vo kahaan hain?’ is sung by the male figure and has an empathetic tinge to it, this number picturized on Vyjayathimala is from the viewpoint of the exploited sex worker. And even within its overall biting tone, the two lines that really hit home are ‘Jis kokh mein inka jism dhala, us kokh ka karobaar kiya’ (The womb that gave birth to them, they trafficked that very womb) and ‘Mardon ki hawas hai jo aqsar aurat ke paap mein dhalti hai’ (It is the lust of men that brings women to shame). It would be difficult to find another Hindi film song that indicts men for their heinous actions so boldly.

‘Tu mere pyaar ka phool hai ki meri bhool hai’ (Dhool Ka Phool, 1959)

Dhool Ka Phool is most remembered for ‘Tu Hindu Banega na Musalmaan banega’, a song that has since become a clarion call for Hindu-Muslim unity. However, ‘Tu mere pyaar ka phool hai’ from the same film detailed the distressing plight of a mother who has a child out of wedlock. This isn’t exactly a lullaby in that the mother describes the toxic future that awaits her son even as she rocks him to sleep. Lines like ‘Meri badnaami tere saath palegi’ (My dishonor shall be your constant companion) and ‘Aaj pilaoon tujhe doodh main, kal zehar peeyega’ (The milk that I give you today shall turn to poison tomorrow) discuss the trauma that awaits the child in a patriarchal society, obsessed with the name of the father and the child’s lineage. Sahir followed up this song with another similar-themed number ‘Naina kyun bhar aaye’ in Dharamputra (1961). Both songs tug at the heart for their compassionate look at the distraught mother figure.

‘Tere bachpann ko jawaani ki dua deti hoon’ (Mujhe Jeene Do, 1963)

Mujhe Jeene Do was a dacoit drama starring Sunil Dutt and Waheeda Rehman. While Dutt played Daaku Jarnail Singh, Rehman played the courtesan figure of Chameli Jaan. The dacoit and the courtesan meet, fall in love and have a child. Chameli Jaan soon realizes that as long as Jarnail is on the wrong side of the law, her son’s future looks bleak. Following in his father’s footsteps, he will either turn to bloodshed or meet with a premature, bloody end. This song articulates her worries, with the line ‘Teri dushmann hi na saabit ho jawaani teri’ (Perhaps your youth will prove to be your biggest enemy), aptly summarizing a concerned mother’s worst fears. Legend has it that a few years after the release of this film, Sahir was kidnapped by some dacoits near Shivpuri, Gwalior. However, when the dacoits learned that the man they held hostage, was the writer of this song, they let him go respectfully. Such was the impact of this song.

‘Tu mere saath rahega munney’ (Trishul, 1978)

Sahir Ludhianvi came from a dysfunctional family. His father, a zamindar, was given to a life of debauchery and depraved behaviour, very much like the old Hindi film villains. Sahir’s mother, Sardar Begum, was the zamindar’s eleventh wife, but at no point did the latter mend his decadent ways. When Sardar Begum separated from her husband, Sahir could witness firsthand the hardship and struggle she put herself through to give him a proper upbringing. One can see that the songwriter was giving expression to his own mother’s life experiences when writing this song that was picturized on Waheeda Rehman in Yash Chopra’s Trishul. The truth articulated in the lines ‘Tujhko parwaan chadhaaney ke liye, kitni sangeen maraahil se teri maa guzari’ (To raise you, I had to go through innumerable ordeals) is from Sahir’s own past.