Tag Archives: Yusuf Saeed – Film maker – Author – Archivist

Are you a lover of qawwali? Then Yousuf Saeed’s Cinema Qawwali Archive is for you

NEW DELHI :

An online database, it is a collection of qawwalis in cinema, from talkie days to the present.

The popular qawwali, ‘Teri mehfil mein kismat azamakar’, from Mughal-e-Azam | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

The qawwali, a musical genre closely associated with Islamic Sufi tradition, has evolved over the generations to include not just devotion, but romance, comedy and even social commentary in its fold.

Its journey from the courtly environs of erstwhile princely salons, to the dargahs, and then into the Hindi film industry, has largely gone undocumented, though the transition is still in progress. However in recent weeks, the Cinema Qawwali Archive, an online database curated by Delhi-based independent filmmaker and researcher Yousuf Saeed, has been reviving interest in this pop culture import.

Qaul means a saying or spoken phrase [in Arabic and Urdu]. Those who sang a qaul were called qawwals. All qawwali lyrics may not necessarily send you into a trance, some can also be subtle. But the singing style is surely bold. Off-hand, most people can recall only around 10-20 qawwalis in Hindi cinema, but the actual number is much bigger,” says Saeed in a phone interview.

‘Parda hain parda’ from Amar Akbar Anthony

Working on the database for a decade, Saeed has compiled 800 qawwalis so far, with the earliest going back to the 1930s, and latest, until 2022. “The ‘talkie’ pictures came to India in 1931; though the original movies from the early 1930s are lost forever, I did manage to find some from 1936, with unusual names like Miss Frontier Mail (starring ‘Fearless’ Nadia), and the 1939 film Brandy Ki Botal,” says Saeed.

Poetry of the past

Saeed began noticing the qawwali’s ubiquity in Hindi films while working on a series of documentaries on Sufi poet and musician Abul Hasan Yamin-ud-din Khusrau, also known as Amir Khusro (1253–1325 AD). “I realised that quite a few of his qawwalis had been lifted and modified for Hindi films, so I started noting them down, and soon, the list grew to 400 songs. I wanted to make them available on a common database in chronological order,” he says. Among these is the qawwali ‘Zihale Miskin’ sung by Lata Mangeshkar in Ghulami (1985). A simplified version of Khusro’s original, the lilting composition retains the poet’s penchant for multi-lingual lyric arrangements.

The inimitable Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan | Photo Credit: Getty Images

“’Zihale Miskin’ is very popular, and unusual, because it has one line in Persian and one in Brij Bhasha. Then there are many of Khusro’s Dohas (couplets) that are used in qawwali songs quite often,” says Saeed.

Qawwali, says the filmmaker, is a free-floating art that allows singers and lyricists to combine several genres and poetic forms in a seamless composition. Besides YouTube, Saeed has picked out his selections from DVDs and VCDs (remember those?). “I haven’t had a problem with copyright so far, since quite a few of the songs are already in the public domain. But it’s amazing how I keep discovering new qawwalis everyday. My latest is ‘Shikayat’ from last year’s Gangubai Kathiawadi,” he laughs.

Qawwali down the ages

Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhosle have sung some popular qawwalis | Photo Credit: The Hindu Archives

Saeed categorises the film qawwali of the 20th century into three periods. The first starts with the black-and-white films of the 1940s until the 1950s, when the lyrics showcased a literary flair for Urdu, by adding ‘ghazals’ into qawwalis. The second stage starts with the coming of colour films, when the qawwali too literally added some hues to its own repertoire. “A lot of things were happening in the 1960s, ‘70s and ‘80s, when qawwalis became more of a device to move the plot ahead. In some films, for example, a qawwali would be staged to highlight comedy, in the backdrop of a fight sequence, or to convey romance between characters,” he says.

The mass entertainer Amar Akbar Anthony (1977), for instance, uses the qawwali both for fun (‘Parda hai parda’) and spirituality (‘Shirdi wale Sai Baba’), to good effect.

The third phase started in the 1990s, when Pakistani singer/songwriter Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and India’s A.R. Rahman brought in sea-change by modernising the qawwali with electronica and smooth singing.

Teri Mehfil Mein | Lata Mangeshkar, Shamshad Begum | Classic Duet | Mughal-E-Azam | Bollywood Song

Comment on society

Yousuf Saeed | Photo Credit: Sandeep Sharma

The qawwali has become a social marker of sorts in films, says Saeed, creating a Muslim stereotype where the singers wear slanted fur caps, a kerchief around their neck and clap in a certain style. The Bollywood ‘Muslim social’ film that featured stories with veiled damsels courted by sherwani-clad gentlemen (Mere Mehboob, 1963) was born out of this need to appeal to family audiences from this community.

Nutan in the famous qawwali, ‘Nigahen milane ko ji chahta hai’ from the film Dil hi to hai | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

Female singers have also had strong showing in this genre, from ‘Aahen na bharin shikve na kiye’ (Zeenat, 1945), and ‘Aaj teri mehfil mein’ (Mughal-e-Azam, 1960) to Shikayat’ (Gangubhai Kathiawadi, 2022), all showcasing the skills of chanteuses Sudha Malhotra, Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhonsle, Shamshad Begum, and Archana Gore.

Linguistic gymnastics

The Cinema Qawwali Archive also helps visitors to understand the literary changes over the years. “It’s inevitable that the linguistic purity of the early qawwalis is no longer there. But new words like ‘Maula’ and ‘Allahu’ and Arabicised Urdu have become more common in film qawwalis, especially as a choral element. Off the screen, in private qawwali mehfils, singers are often known to sing certain words or phrases again and again on the patron’s farmaish (request) for him or her to attain ecstasy,” he says.

Music director A.R. Rahman gave qawwali a distinct twist with Turkish, Moroccan and Syrian Sufi rhythms. | Photo Credit: RAVINDRAN R

Rahman’s infusion of Turkish, Moroccan and Syrian Sufi rhythms into his songs has helped the qawwali reach out to both the South Asian diaspora and Westerners, says Saeed. “The film Rockstar (2011) made qawwali singers at Nizamuddin Dargah famous, with tourism developing around the shrine. But interestingly, cinema has also used qawwali for its own purpose, by taking it into a secular space,” says Saeed.

Hoping to publish a companion volume on the Cinema Qawwali Archive soon, Saeed says, “People think that the qawwali is dying out, but this isn’t true. They will continue to be written and performed because film directors find it a very fascinating and unique form. Qawwali weaves the story together and keeps it going.”

ROCKSTAR: Kun Faya Kun (Full Video Song) | Ranbir Kapoor | A.R. Rahman, Javed Ali, Mohit Chauhan

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Entertainment> Music / by Nahla Nainar / July 10th, 2023

Eid Mubarak: A look at vintage greeting cards, long eclipsed by text messages

The big cities, Lahore, Delhi and Bombay, had printers who specialised in these cards, which often carried Urdu poems written for the occasion.

The image on the left is Kajjan Begum – From Reena Mohan Collection

Eid ul Fitr celebrations take a multitude of forms in our society. As the holy month of Ramzan nears the end, markets all across the country glitter with Eid paraphernalia: confectionery, clothes, bangles, mehendi, objects typically associated with this festive occasion.

But one object is usually missing: Eid cards, because the practice of sending them out has dwindled over the years. It was once routine for most families to spend time selecting, writing and posting Eid greeting cards to friends and families.


“Eid Mubarak,” an Eid card showing two girls on a swing. The printed message starts with a salutation of a young girl to her elder sister: Muhtarma aapa saheba… (Dear respected sister, my salutations. Despite the distance between us, your favours and love still provide tranquillity to my heart. While extending the Eid greetings to you, I request you to remember me forever in your prayers). Printed by Eastern Commercial Agency, Bombay. Unused, circa 1930.
From the Priya Paul Collection, New Delhi.
Courtesy: Tasveer Ghar


In the digital age, people prefer to take a faster route to greeting one another. On the eve and day of Eid, they send out a vast number of mobile text messages.

But what were those cards like? Wouldn’t it be interesting to look at some of the old ones, especially when the practice began in this country?

Here are samples from the collections of Yousuf Saeed, a filmmaker, author and archivist based in Delhi,  who runs the Tasveer Ghar archive, Ally Adnan, a Dallas, US-based engineer, writer and antique collector, and Omar Khan, who  runs Imagesofasia.com, a collection of vintage postcards and lithographs.


“Eid Mubarak,” a floral Eid postcard, published by Hafiz Qamruddin & Sons, Lahore (probably printed in Bombay), and posted from Lahore (sender’s name undecipherable) on 24 December 1935 and arrived at Delhi’s General Post Office on 29 December the same year for the addressee Mr Noor Elahi. The season of Eid-ul fitr or Eid-ul Zuha coinciding with Christmas in these years might have had a bearing on the use of early Eid cards. The sender’s message in Urdu is mostly damaged due to a torn corner of the card. But it basically starts with a salaam and asks about the addressee’s good health etc. Note the British India postage stamps worth half anna and three pies used on the card.  
From the Priya Paul Collection, New Delhi. 
Courtesy:  Tasveer Ghar


On the Indian subcontinent, the tradition of sending greeting cards on Eid started in the late 19th century, when mass-printed cards started becoming available off the shelf, although some well-off Muslim families continued to sent their own hand-produced cards, sometimes with calligraphy and artistically decorated greeting message.

The trend of sending cards was probably fuelled by the expansion of the railway network, which had increased to 25,000 km in 1880 from just 34 km in 1853, when the first passenger train service was inaugurated in India. With the expansion of railway, people began travelling far away from their homes, for employment and business. It also improved the postal service. In addition, advanced printing facilities improved the quality of cards.


“Eid Mubarak, Hamari Eid to jab hai…” Eid greetings and an Urdu couplet likening the eyebrows of the beloved to Eid’s crescent, featuring Indian actress and singer Kajjan Begum, Unused, circa 1930. Distributed by Sultan Husen Bookseller, Bombay.
From the collection of Reena Mohan.
Courtesy:  Tasveer Ghar 


We can see that the early cards resembled European-made Christmas cards, albeit modified for Eid.

In the early years of the 20th century, Eid cards began being printed with India-specific images and illustrations. Hafiz Qammaruddin & Sons, H Ghulam Muhammad & Sons and Muhammad Hussain & Brothers in Lahore, Mahboob Al Matabah in Delhi, and Eastern Commercial Agency, Shabbar T Corporation and Bolton Fine Art Lithographers in Bombay were amongst the earliest companies that came into the business of printing Eid cards in India. Postcards with Indian Muslim architecture, produced by Raphael Tuck in London, were also used for Eid.

No discussion of these vintage Eid cards would be complete without mentioning the Urdu poetry on them written for the occasion.


“Guldasta-e Eid” (a bouquet for eid) title of the chapbook published by Rashid-ul Khairi in 1927, Delhi. Although the chapbook is not a part of greeting correspondence, such literature was produced and circulated in Muslim homes for general reading and reform in late 19th/early 20th century.
From the Yousuf Saeed collection.
Courtesy: Tasveer Ghar  


میرے یاروں کو مبارک عید ہو غمگساروں کو مبارک عید ہو عاشق و معشوق رندو پارسا آج چاروں کو مبارک عید ہو

Eid greetings to my friends,
Eid greetings to my sympathisers,
Eid greetings to the lovers and the beloveds, the drunks and the pious,
Eid greetings to all four of them today.

ہماری عید تو جب ہے کہ دیکھیں تیرے آبرو کو ہلال عید کو اے مہ جبیں دیکھا تو کیا دیکھا

Eid is when I see your eyebrows
Just seeing the crescent, my dear, is no Eid.

سب لوگ تو دیکھتے ہیں کھڑے چاند عید کا مشتاق ہوں میں رشک قمر تیری دید کا

While everyone is interested in sighting the moon,
I only desire to see your face.

یہ شام عید ہے اے میرے ناقہ محمل چمک کے چل کہ دیار حبیب تک پہنچیں

It is the eve of Eid, oh my camel,
Run fast and take me to the city of my beloved.

The tradition of Eid cards continued till the end of the 20th century, diminishing with the surge of mobile and online communication.

Yet those of us who have experienced the joy of handpicking, writing, sending and receiving Eid cards cannot find a substitute in the click of buttons.

This article was originally published on Dawn.com

source: http://www.scroll.in / Scroll.in / Home> Holy Month / by Aown Ali / July 18th, 2015