Film: Hamari Adhuri Kahani
Composers: Jeet Ganguly, Mithoon, Ami Mishra
Lyrics: Rashmi Virag, Sayeed Quadri, Kunaal Verma
Hamari Adhuri Kahani is not an entirely detestable album. There is definitely some goodness sprinkled here and there. But mostly the album just slurs after a decent opening track. The problem, apart from extremely average compositions, is the gulf between the ideas and the music.
The beginning of the film’s title track, sung by Arijit Singh, has striking yet hushed and delicate piano notes. When layered with the melancholic yet magnificent melody lines of a violin, our expectations rise. Singh joins in the melody, at first in a soft voice that later soars above those violin interludes. Jeet Ganguly’s composition is fresh, thanks to the unpredictability in arrangements which move from full-fledged string sections and just a drum-and-flute piece to a solo violin doing the trick. As a complete composition, the track however does not have the same impact as Ganguly’s other, more popular, Tum hi ho (Aashiqui 2). The title track has another version, sung by Ganguly. He impresses with his vocals and gives us a sneak peak into how he would have visualised the smallest elements in the track.
This is followed by Mithoon’s Humnava, sung by Papon. It’s hard to not like the singer’s deep baritone, though the sullen composition is typical of a Mahesh Bhatt film. The violin interludes grab some attention initially but scatter soon. We are all for poetic depth in lyrics. But when Papon sings, Sookhi padi iss dil ki zameen ko bhigade, one really goes, “What are you really talking about?”
Ami Mishra’s Hasi is one of the more cheesy ballads we’ve heard in a long time. We, however, can grant one thing to the song. It could have been much worse. The sappy piece opens with an electric guitar which is followed by Mishra’s nasal crooning, Haan hasi ban gaye, haan nami ban gaye which is nothing much to write home about. The Shreya Ghoshal version of the same song is much better though. Mostly because of the change in arrangements (there are significant flute and guitar interludes placed strategically) and partly because of Ghoshal’s flawless delivery. The flute prelude of Ye kaisi jagah promises some sparkle. But soon it turns clunky. Deepali Sathe is earnest and tuneful but the lyrics are tacky.
In the end, one just wants to gently take director Mohit Suri by the arm and explain that fresh sound necessarily does not need three composers. It does not make the soundtrack intriguing or different. Sticking to Ganguly for the complete soundtrack would have, probably, worked in Suri’s favour. A quality lyricist could have made a difference too. For now, except for one song, it’s mostly a sappy mess.