The Singer. His Song. The good ones are able to make them one and the same. You recognise one. See in it the other. Krishnakumar Kunnath, aka KK, who passed away hours after a performance last night, had one too. His Song? It’s this one that invokes the almighty in its unabashed celebration of romance.
Khuda jane ke mein fida hoon Khuda jane mein mit gaya Khuda jane yeah kiyon hua hai Ke ban gaye hain tum mere khuda
Given the unfortunate circumstances, the lyrics of Khuda Jane acquire an unexpected poignancy, even though on screen, a sprightly couple (Ranbir and Deepika) is lip-syncing to serenade each other in a characteristically mushy sequence from a film that gets it title from another song of the past. It may not even make it to many of the rapid-fire Insta-obituaries being churned out in a rush to condole KK’s untimely demise. It is, however, one of those rare compositions to spring from the Bollywood tune factory of the 90s that work at multiple levels.
Music directors Vishal Dadlani and Shekhar Ravjiani doff their hats to the Bombay film industry of yore with a ballad that is a seamless mix of the old and new. KK’s searing vocals makes that happen in large measure as is the meticulous blending of the modern with the traditional. The dholak is pronounced in parts, but behind it keeping beat is a drum kit; the bass lines are intricate _ emblematic of the instrumentalist’s proficiency and the diverse genres the song taps. Simple guitar and synth interludes and effective backing vocals in deep background embellish the tune lovingly. The song structure is unusual, cerebral in approach. The sthayee (verse, primary tune) charts an innovatively unusual course as it moves to the antara (bridge) and returns to nest again.
‘Khuda Jane’ blooms gradually, its effervescence chaperoned by KK’s stunning rendition. Kudos are also due to his duet partner Shilpa Rao for her purposeful restraint. But this is KK’s song to sing. He is a natural, evident in the way he glides over the highs and the lows. As the lead singer and drummer in his college band, he must have been acutely aware of his own vocal range, its tone, texture, and limitations too. And that’s precisely why he is able to soar with operatic flourish, adding myriad dimensions to this gem of a song that dares to acquire the sweep and ambitions of a rock ballad.
A long time ago, across the seven seas, a man with a golden voice told the world about The Singer, His Song and the place where, sometime, the twain do meet. ‘Dry your eyes’, he sang. ‘Take your song out, it’s a newborn afternoon. And if you can’t recall the singer, you can still recall the tune”.
With a voice for the gods, KK is in heaven. A bit too early. But Khuda Jane will always be His Song.
