Love comes in many hues, and so do love songs. But only the rarest of songs capture the soul of love — longing.

Aapki yaad aati rahi raat bhar, from the 1978 film Gaman, is one such song. Starring Farooq Shaikh, Smita Patil and Nana Patekar, it marked the directorial debut of Muzaffar Ali. An unusual debut, as the director, in his early 30s then, chose to portray the life of a Muslim migrant cabbie in Mumbai. It was slow moving, but had a rare sensitivity.

It’s also a rare film in the ‘parallel’ genre where the songs blossom magnificently, thanks to the choosy Jaidev. He won the National Award thrice, of which one was for his music in Gaman.

During the high noon of the Kishore Kumar-Lata Mangeshkar-Asha Bhosle juggernaut, Jaidev also had the knack for choosing unknown voices that fitted his vision — Chhaya Ganguli, Hariharan, Suresh Wadkar, Heera Devi Mishra — to spectacular effect.

Aapki yaad aati rahi raat bhar is a rare alchemy between Jaidev, Chhaya and Makhdoom Mohiuddin.

Jaidev treats Mohiuddin’s lyrics with great respect, using minimal instruments, allowing Chhaya’s rich vocals to implode.

Who could have thought that a Communist and a freedom fighter — Mohiuddin — could be so romantic? Mohiuddin writes:

Aap ki yaad aati rahi raat bhar

Chashm-e-nam muskurati rahi raat bhar

(Your memories kept coming the entire night, tear-filled eyes kept smiling the entire night.)

Let the gritty visuals of Smita in a half-lit room and Farooq driving a cab under the night lights of Mumbai not fool you — this isn’t a song of grief. The poet writes: Yaad ke chand dil mein utarte rahe, chandni jagmagati rahi raat bhar (Memories, like moons, descended into my heart, moonlight shone all night long).

Mohiuddin, who had died in 1961, aged 61, couldn’t listen to his words strung to Jaidev’s music. If he had, it would be fair to say that he would have approved.

Jaidev uses the sarod, the tabla and the flute to devastating effect, enhancing, but never overpowering, Chhaya’s voice.

Chhaya, in her 20s then, was a revelation in the song for which she too won the National Award. A Mumbai girl who wasn’t fond of fame, she worked for the All India Radio for over three decades and made rare forays into playback or ghazal singing after her extraordinary debut. But sometimes, one song is enough for immortality.

This Valentine’s Day, gift yourself a love song that never leaves you.