Zindagi ek baar phir milna;
Is dafa tujhko ko pyaar kar na sake,
Tera daaman khushi se bhar na sake,
Tujhko kah bhi na sake hum apna.
(Life, let our paths cross once again. This instance I couldn’t love you enough, couldn’t make you happy. I couldn’t even call you my own.)
The opening stanza of one of the veteran Hindi film lyricists Yogesh’s several heartfelt songs (this is a non-film one at that) exemplifies a lifelong concern — deploying words to communicate the vicissitudes of life itself. Ironically, he slipped into oblivion silently, with few from the industry and the fans or the media in the know of his life in the final days. Though he passed away early on Friday, the official confirmation could come only towards the end of the day. He was 77.
For Yogesh, frail health and solitariness stretched beyond just the current fractured times. Simple, straightforward and self-respecting, he preferred to live like a recluse in a small Goregaon flat; his popularity and success faded with time though his songs continue to be remembered and sung with much fondness. His son and one of the daughters are stationed abroad and another daughter lives in Mira Road. The last rites were performed on Saturday by his grandson and his shishya (pupil) and foster son Satyendra Tripathi.
According to Mr. Tripathi, Yogesh had not been keeping well for the past couple of years and had been treated for a kidney ailment since January and had turned extremely weak. After the imposition of the lockdown, Mr. Tripathi had been managing his daily food and medicinal needs remotely from his home in Vasai, with the help of the Goregoan building watchman. Yogesh had a fall on May 20 and was shifted the next day by Mr. Tripathi to a rented flat near his own home, to keep a closer eye on him.
Mr. Tripathi had known him for more than 15 years and would escort him for all his meetings, recordings, shows, and social gatherings. He had even sung one of his last songs, a thumri — Piya mose rooth gaye — in the 2018 film, Angrezi Mein Kehte Hain .
Yogesh came into prominence with ‘ Kahin duur jab din dhal jaye ’ and ‘ Zindagi kaisi hai paheli ’ in Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s Anand (1971). But his journey into Hindi film music had started almost a decade earlier when he came to Mumbai from Lucknow as a teenager and got his first break as a lyricist with the film Sakhi Robin (1962) in which he wrote the lovely romantic duet sung by Manna Dey and Suman Kalyanpur — ‘ Tum jo aao to pyaar aa jaaye, zindagi mein bahaar aa jaaye ’.
After the death of his regular collaborator, lyricist Shailendra, Salil Chowdhury picked Yogesh to team up with and the two worked on several mellifluous compositions together. He worked as successfully — though not as frequently — with both Sachin Dev and Rahul Dev Burman.
A remarkable aspect about Yogesh was that he wrote to a song’s tune, to the beat, rhythm and metre of the composer. “He understood the film music medium. He also always shied away from being called a poet though his literary understanding was very good,” said film buff and music expert Pavan Jha.
He worked with many prominent directors of the times — Hrishikesh Mukherjee and Basu Chatterjee — for instance. Most of his work was for the so-called middle of the road cinema — Annadaata (1972), Rajnigandha (1974), Mili (1975), Chhoti Si Baat (1976), Baton Baton Mein (1979), Manzil (1979) and more.
No wonder his songs reflected middle class dreams and aspirations, like ‘ Nain hamare, saanjh sakare, dekhein laakhon sapne ’ in Annadaata . His words were simple and about everyday sights, sounds and people. Yet they were resonant with deep meaning and off-the-cuff philosophy, like ‘ Na jaane kyun ‘ ( Chhoti Si Baat ) and ‘ Kayi baar yun bhi dekha hai ’ and ‘ Rajnigandha phool tumhare mahke yun hi jeevan mein ‘ ( Rajnigandha ) that spoke of love in all its simplicity and profundity.
His work had some deeply melancholic songs like ‘ Aaye tum yaad mujhe ’ and ‘ Badi sooni sooni hai ’ in Mili . But the hopelessness also came with some positivity attached as in ‘ Kahan tak yeh mann ko andhere chhalenge , udaasi bhare din kabhi to dhalenge’ in Baton Baton Mein . Or ‘ Raaton ke saaye ghane , jab bojh dil par bane ’ in Annadaata , perhaps a song which can help us all tide through the present, endlessly despairing times.
While it’s still some time to the monsoon, Yogesh’s death has brought his most memorable song, the Hindi rain anthem like no other — ‘ Rimjhim gire saawan’ from Manzil (1979) — back into our collective mind a little ahead of the time even though there may not be much to romanticise about Marine Drive, Mumbai, and monsoon this year.
Veteran singer Lata Mangeshkar paid tribute to the lyricist on Twitter: “ Mujhe abhi pata chala ki dil ko chunewale geet likhnewale kavi Yogesh ji ka aaj swargwas hua . Ye sunke mujhe bahut dukh hua. Yogesh ji ke likhe kai geet maine gaaye . Yogesh ji bahut shaant aur madhur swabhav ke insan the . Main unko vinamra shraddhanjali arpan karti hun . (I just came to know about the death of poet Yogesh ji who wrote many heartwarming songs. The news has saddened me. I have sung many songs written by him. He was a very peaceful and sweet tempered person. I pay my respects to him).”
“Deeply sad to know that an exceptional lyricist Yogesh ji has passed away He wrote a number of great songs like kahin door jab din dhal jaye or zindagi kaisi hai paheli or kaee baar yun bhi dekha hai yeh jo man ki seema Rekha hai. Strangely the world did not give him his due,” tweeted Javed Akhtar.
