Songs in the Snow: Ten of my favourites

Some weeks back, a friend who follows my (occasional) travel writing approached me with a question: where was the place closest to Delhi where one could see snow? Over a weekend? I thought fleetingly of Shimla, of Kasauli, and of Lansdowne—though I’m not certain Lansdowne receives much snow—and eventually had to tell her, regretfully, that it may not be easy to take a weekend trip from Delhi to enjoy the snow.

That brief discussion made me a little nostalgic for the snow. When I was 9 years old, my father (who was in the IPS, and then on deputation to the ITBP) was transferred to Srinagar. We stayed there for the next three years, and in that time, we experienced a lot of snow. Not just during our travels across Ladakh (and through mountain passes like Zoji la, Chang la, and Khardung la, all of them surrounded by snow even in summer), but even while living in Srinagar.

And, one thing I realized was that while snow may look very pretty (when it’s fresh, that is: old snow, with soot piling up on it, or snow that’s melted, got churned into underlying mud and then refrozen, is not pretty at all), it’s tough to live with. It piles up. On driveways and paths, choking them. On roofs, where it slowly slides down until it hangs, in great piles, along the eaves until it suddenly slides down and falls in one great solid slab that can be potentially fatal, if you happen to be standing under it. It collects on electricity and telephone wires, turning them into fat white cables (and sometimes snapping them, which means you end up without electricity or a telephone line—though I suppose things must be easier now that everybody has cell phones).

Back then, in the early 1980s, we had yet another problem: when it snowed a lot, there was also the added danger of water freezing in the water pipes—and because ice expands, that could make the pipes burst; so the local water department of the Srinagar municipality would shut down the water supply. On more than one occasion, we ended up scooping snow from our lawn and boiling it to obtain water (not a pleasant experience—a lot of snow yields comparatively little water, and it takes ages to melt, especially when the ambient temperature is below 0).

Ah, well. This is a song list, so let’s get down to the songs. Ten songs, from pre-1970s Hindi cinema, which features snow. Very few songs, as far as I could tell, are shot completely in the snow, so I’ve given myself some leeway: the song should feature some amount of snow; it need not necessarily be all against a backdrop of snow. And the snow, even if it’s not real (I recall an interview with Manoj Kumar where he talked of drifting soap flakes getting in his mouth while filming a ‘snow scene’ in Hariyali aur Raasta), should at least not look patently fake.

As always, these songs are all from films I’ve watched, and no two songs are from the same film. Here goes, in no particular order:

1. Naina barse rimjhim rimjhim (Woh Kaun Thi?, 1964): I must confess that my initial choice for a ‘snow song’ from Woh Kaun Thi? was Shokh nazar ki bijliyaan—a song I love a lot. Technically, that’s on ice rather than snow, but that’s a minor quibble. But Shokh nazar ki bijliyaan is a song that’s already featured several times on song lists here on Dustedoff recently, so I decided to give it a break. Instead, here’s one of the more popular songs from the film. Naina barse rimjhim-rimjhim occurs, in snatches, at different points of the film, but plays out in its entirety only near the end. Dr Anand (Manoj Kumar), in Simla, finds himself lured by what is apparently the ghost of his wife. Her song is melodious, enticing—and somewhat creepy.

This was shot in Shimla, and there’s an interesting anecdote behind it: Lata Mangeshkar couldn’t find time to record Naina barse before the shoot, so Sadhana ended up lip-syncing to music director Madan Mohan singing the song—which, of course, took the crowds of eager spectators by surprise!

Lots of snow to be seen, and some nice views of the mountains around as well.

2. Chaahe koi mujhe jungle kahe (Junglee, 1961): Though this song stars my favourite Hindi film actor (Shammi Kapoor), and it is from one of my favourite films starring him, Chaahe koi mujhe jungle kahe is not a song I particularly like. It’s over the top, it’s silly, and far too many people who don’t know Shammi Kapoor’s filmography well seem to take it as being representative of his work.

That said, there are few songs that get more deeply into the snow than this one. From start to end, Shammi Kapoor and Saira Banu (both not at all adequately clad for so much snow) gambol about in the snow, rolling down the slopes, landing in great drifts of snow, and generally behaving as if this isn’t cold, wet snow but warm, fluffy hay. Utterly madcap, what with the snowballs whizzing around and the couple half-sunk in snow through most of the song.

3. Meri mohabbat jawaan rahegi (Jaanwar, 1965): Shaami Kapoor again, playing another wealthy young man romancing a girl in gorgeous Kashmir. When I think of Jaanwar, the first song that comes to mind is Tumse achha kaun hai, but that’s an autumn song, so absolutely and vividly autumn that it has nothing to do with snow. But there’s this one, too, and it has plenty of snow around.

Like Chaahe koi mujhe jungle kahe, Meri mohabbat jawaan rahegi is also a romantic song played out against the snow. Despite a brief stumbling in the snow, followed by rolling downhill and landing in a suggestive heap together, this is relatively sedate. And, what I like: there’s some attempt at warmth. Both Shammi Kapoor and Rajshree look fairly well-clad, and there’s even a little fire going (though it ties in conveniently with the lyrics, indicating the flames of passion).

4. Tujhe dekha tujhe chaaha (Choti si Mulaqat, 1967): The first of several songs in this list that aren’t completely played out in the snow. Tujhe dekha tujhe chaaha begins indoors, when Vyjyanthimala’s character comes to return a borrowed coat to the mysterious Ashok (Uttam Kumar) and, having found that he has—by means unknown—got a photo of hers in his room, also ends up listening to him confess that he’s spent many months watching her in Bombay. Such stalkerish behaviour would have made any sane woman run for her life, but this one (obviously not completely in possession of her wits, and thoroughly regressive on top of it) accepts this as proof positive of his love for her.

Their romantic song begins next to an appropriate fireplace, then shifts out to the snow-laden slopes. Though skis are in evidence, neither of them is actually shown skiing in the song. Not a splendid song, but not a bad one either—and, in a praiseworthy bit of practical thinking, both of them wear gloves in addition to all the woollies!


5. Humdum mere khel na jaano (Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon, 1963): The 1960s saw a spate of films—Junglee, Kashmir ki Kali, Jaanwar, Mere Sanam, Aarzoo, Ek Musaafir Ek Haseena and Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon among them—set largely in Kashmir. One of those which ticked all the boxes for me was Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon, vintage Nasir Husain: a dashing hero separated in infancy from his father, now grown up and in love with his father’s ward—and with a criminally-inclined impostor trying to pass himself off as the rightful son and heir. It had lots of eye candy and some great music, and this is one of its peppiest songs.

I love the variations in the tune of this song: it starts off slow and gentle, then builds up into a fast-paced, infectious beat. The picturization I find a little odd, because these two people are proclaiming their love for each other amidst dozens of extras (though, considering most of the other romantic songs of the film—like Banda parvar thhaam lo jigar and Aankhon se jo utri hai dil mein and Laakhon hain nigaah mein—it’s not any different). The second half of the song is set on a boat, but the first half is all snow, with the poor extras trudging along most uncomfortably (and one falling amidst the sudden running).

6. Gunguna rahe hain bhanwre (Aradhana, 1969): Every time I watch this song, I am reminded of the countless songs in Hindi films of the 90s onwards (was it? Or did they begin earlier?) with heroines dressed in flimsy sarees, singing and dancing against backdrops of the Swiss Alps. As if all that snow, the icy winds and all, affected them not a jot. And I always think that Gunguna rahe hain bhanwre is the precursor to those—unless, of course, there were other, earlier songs where an actress cavorted around in flimsy clothing on what was obviously real snow.

Gunguna rahe hain bhanwre begins, appropriately enough, in a garden where bumble bees are dutifully buzzing away. But from there to the woods, where patches of snow still lie aplenty on the ground, is a hop, skip and a jump. Sharmila Tagore, dressed in a very light saree—not even a heavy brocade, which might have blocked out some of the cold—doesn’t bat a heavily-painted eyelid as she wriggles about on the snow. Rajesh Khanna looks more warmly dressed (and there’s plenty of potential for other layers under that full-sleeved jacket), but just looking at Sharmila makes me go brrr.

7. Yeh khaamoshiyaan yeh tanhaaiyaan (Yeh Raaste Hain Pyaar Ke, 1963): Snow is silent. I would never have believed how silent a snowfall can be, and how very muffling the mounds of snow wrapped around a house can be. Which is why Yeh khaamoshiyaan yeh tanhaiyaan is unique: it isn’t merely a romantic song set against a beautiful snowy backdrop, but a song which actually makes an attempt to convey something of the nature of that snow. The silence, the sense of solitude of these two lovers, surrounded only by the snow. And “jahaan paanv rakh dein, hai phislan hi phislan”—wherever one sets a foot down, it’s slippery.

Oh, yes. That’s snow for you. And also love, I suppose. A slippery slope, as is proven in Yeh Raaste Hain Pyaar Ke.

8. Maine ek khwaab sa dekha hai (Waqt, 1965): Sunil Dutt again, and this time with Sadhana. Two lovers, chatting on the phone at night, about to drift into sleep in their respective beds, meet in a supposed dream. A dream that takes them, alone and very, very close to each other, through flower-bedecked gardens, beside rippling streams, through mists rising along a mountain and to a snowy ground, where they lie on the snow, her ‘stiff with cold’ body melting into softness under the heat of his body.

Though the snow appears in this song for all of one verse, it’s a memorable verse—one of the rare instances of fairly bold lyrics, played out against an apt setting. Snow and heat, passion and warmth: quite a combination.

9. I love you (Sangam, 1964): Raj Kapoor’s Sangam is often touted as the first Hindi film to have major sections filmed abroad (incorrectly, since there were other films—like Singapore—that had already been filmed overseas). But Sangam did have a major section of it filmed in Europe, and in full colour too, so that probably contributed to a more lasting memory of overseas locales. In this short song, which often gets overlooked—especially in comparison with the more popular songs of the film—just one phrase is repeated, over and over again, in five different languages (German, English, French, Russian and Urdu). There’s a very short verse too, about inviting the other to love, but that’s it.

Even though it’s a short song, this one sticks in my mind because it’s unusual (there aren’t too many mostly-English songs in Hindi cinema). Also because the singer—Vivian Lobo, who used to sing at a restaurant (Bombili, at Gaylord) frequented by Shankar-Jaikishan, who spotted him there—seems to have only recorded this one Hindi song. (Do read this brilliant piece on the song, and on Vivian Lobo, over at Atul’s blog).

But look at the snow: lots and lots of it, and RK and Vyjyanthimala don’t shrink from sinking into it. I like that they’re well-equipped for it, all gloves and scarves and dark glasses as well.

10. Palkon ke peechhe se kya tumne keh daala (Talaash, 1969): Sharmila Tagore again, and (as in Gunguna rahe hain bhanwre) very inadequately dressed for the snow. Yes, given that she’s playing a pahadi, I guess she would be used to the cold, but I have never seen a pahadi who would also be so heedless of the dangers of the cold. This girl, with her part-backless choli, her ghagra swishing prettily just below her knees, and her bare feet (why?! Why does Hindi cinema seem to think that village girls, even if otherwise dressed to the nines, will go about barefoot, even in the snow?)—no, she’s not real at all.

But the snow, which looks pretty much fresh and pillowy, is really lovely, as is Sharmila. And the song, one of my favourites from SD Burman’s late 60s period, is a wonderful one. If only the hero had been someone (Dharmendra, perhaps?) other than an ageing Rajendra Kumar.

Which other songs would you add to the list?

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63 thoughts on “Songs in the Snow: Ten of my favourites

  1. Quite a novel theme, Madhuji. Though there are umpteen number of songs in the snow, I couldn’t think of any more with the “wow” factor. I Love You (Sangam) is a song I had totally forgotten and comes back through this article. Love it for it’s “hatke” voice and it’s jazzy feel.
    K B Patil

    • Thank you! And I don’t blame you for not remembering the Sangam song – it’s so short, that one pretty much tends to overlook it, especially given that the film had several other songs that overshadow it in popularity. But I do like the hatke voice and tone of the song.

  2. Hi Madhu, lovely topic and apt selections. Here are some which came into my mind instantly.
    PRE 70s: Agar mujhe na mili..Kaajal (1965)..I think the last portion is filmed in snow
    And some post 70s like Karvate badalte rahe (Aap ki Kasam), Hum aur tum (Daag), Logon na maro ise..(Anamika), and some Yash Chopra songs like the title song of Chandni, Tu mete saamne (Darr) etc. Will try to add more. Regards..
    Gaurav

      • Thanks, Gaurav! Tera mujhse hai pehle ka naata koi and Logon na maaro ise were among the ones that had come to my mind too, as also Karvate badalte rahe (that one, I cannot listen to without chuckling, because, many years ago, I remember watching it on Chitrahaar, and my father, passing by, commented: “Kyon? Khatmal kaat rahe thhe kya?“) :-D

        Since this is a fairly little-known song, but does feature snow, here’s another song from the 70s. From Mr Romeo, Yahaan nahin kahoongi:

        Of course, besides these ones, there are several other good snow songs from the 70s.

  3. Hello Madhuji,
    Excellent concept, a great song list too! I practically like each and every song on the list, with the exception of the song from ‘Sangam’, which I’m not very fond of.

    One song that I can add is, I think
    Tere Chehre Se Nazar Nahin Hatati from Kabhi Kabhie
    and one more, though not actually shot in snow, but snow in the background, is ‘Khilte Hai Gul Yahan’, male version.

    And before the movie, Singapore, some other movie before 1960 was also shot in major length in Russia (in Tashkent, most likely), It was Naaz, if I’m not wrong.
    in 1954, it was released.
    Experts can throw light on this!
    :-)

        • Thank you, Anupji! Glad you liked the post. :-) Khilte hain gul yahaan was on my shortlist, but the snow is so obviously fake that I had to leave it out. It’s a lovely song, though. Here is another song I really love but where, too, the snow is very obviously artificial. From Batwaara, Yeh raat yeh fizaayein:

          • Yes, quite obviously fake snow. But I love the song. It’s known to me for a long time, and it’s etched on my memory as from bantwara by S Madan and a beautiful duet by Asha-Rafi.
            I can’t help adding, I shouldn’t have seen its video, such a dull pair of actors. No lively expressions, not even good looks.
            Just mechanical movements.

            • Yes, it’s such a lovely song, but so badly picturised. I usually like Jawahar Kaul (though that’s possibly a result of Dekh Kabira Roya, which made me very kindly disposed towards him), but Jabeen Jalil has never been one of my favourites. Here, the entire set-up is so tackily done that it takes away from the beauty of the song itself.

  4. This is timely, we just had snow and are going to have more this week, and I was trying to think of appropriate things to watch.

    Oh man, Khilte Hai Gul Yahaan to me is the only snow song, really. I love it so much.
    But I second the Aa Gale Lag Jaa song. Another one is Ek Tha Gul Aur Ek Thi Bulbul. I suppose those are all pretty fake looking but I don’t care.

    There are many, many Govinda songs in the snow, all of them with wildly inappropriate clothing. It’s difficult to dance in snow, especially considering their shoes, but I guess they edit out all the times people slip and fall down, and/or bitch about their soaked shoes.

    • Dear Madhulika,

      This is from Praba Mahajan.
      (By now, I should not be perceived as a newbie by WordPress…just kidding!).

      To begin with a confession of sorts: ( I can hear: “Get on with it…!”).

      The comment here, was first made by me for your list of “Songs in Famous Gardens”.
      As that comment holds good for this list ( actually more apt here), am “repeating” it here, almost verbatum.

      ( Also, I recollect that you do not object to re-cycling, –ref.to an exchange with another blogger friend, Jabberwock…..).
      As usual, I digress, so here goes:
      ———————————————–

      I’ve just “arrived” here and have been almost mesmerised at the myriad songs picturised in gardens….
      Thank you, all, and Madhu, in particular.

      Here is one which I believe qualifies for inclusion:

      It is “Suhani chandni raatein ………”
      (sung by Mukesh, lyrics: Anand Bakshi, music: R D Burman)
      from “MUKTI” (1977, dir. Raj Tilak).

      In this song,the gardens in Kashmir appear onscreen in a flashback sequence, with Shashi Kapoor and Vidya Sinha (at 01:14, and onwards). Also seen in the song, are some beautiful winter landscapes in Kashmir…..

      I know of this song, in particular, because a major part of this film was shot in Kashmir, in 1976, by cinematographer K K Mahajan.

      ———————————————————————-

      • Thank you for this, Praba!

        I hadn’t ever watched Suhaani chaandni raatein, though of course I’m very familiar with the audio of this song. I didn’t actually notice any snow there, so I’m wondering what you meant. There are several gardens, and then a longish sequence beside a waterfall, but I couldn’t see any snow. Unless I’m mistaking snow for frothing water…

    • Popka Superstar, yes, I adore Khilte hain gul yahaan – a lovely song. Would’ve featured on this list if that snow wasn’t so obviously fake. :-) I don’t like Ek thha gul aur ek thhi bulbul, but the Aa Gale Lag Jaa song is a winner!

      I remember watching some of those Govinda songs. Your comment about what they edited out made me snort with laughter!

      • lol I find the fakeness of the snow very comforting. Right now just the thought of romping around in snow in inadequate clothing makes me want to cry, even with Shammi or Govinda. Okay, maybe with Shammi or Govinda I wouldn’t cry.

        • I prefer winter to summer, but winter I love when I am warm and cosy – so frolicking in the snow, and that too in the skimpy sort of stuff most of these actresses seem to flaunt is absolutely not my cup of tea! Even if it’s with Shammi (Govinda, I don’t much like). :-)

  5. Oh!
    And how did I forget Qismat se tum hum ko mile Ho from pukar.
    It’s a movie, from the year 2000. Well beyond the timeline.
    But it’s a good song, and snow is everywhere.

  6. Hi,
    Great list. And your memories of Srinagar- you know we always wondered what people did when water freezes in pipes. Now you told us.
    As for additions does “Husn jab jab ishq se takara gaya” has snow in it. I am vague. I think the movie is Neend Hamari Khwaab Tumhare.

    And as for inadequately clad heroines:- you should see the girls/ women during marriage receptions in winter, in open gardens too- not a hall or something. What bravery. I can never do that.

    • I completely agree with you on the women who turn up at outdoor functions – parties, weddings, whatever – in sleeveless or short-sleeved blouses and other similarly skimpy clothes. As a friend said, “Praan jaaye par fashion na jaaye!” I can never do that – for me, comfort is most important.

      As for Husn jab-jab ishq se takra gaya, here it is. I wish I’d remembered this one; it fits in well.

    • Though I’d heard Pehli-pehli baar baliye, I’d never seen it before. Nice. Sangharsh sticks in my mind as the film which had a song copied from Mujhe dekhkar aapka muskuraana. :-)

  7. I find the practice of dressing up women in flimsy clothes just for the sake of glam appeal to be downright sadistic. It’s far worse than the profusion of bikinis onscreen nowadays, which the moral brigade choose to have a problem with instead of utilizing their time and energy for more pressing problems, like getting out of their basements once in a while.

    That screenshot from Waqt appears rather risqué for this blog. Viewed out of context it could be mistaken for something else entirely.

    Here are The Fab Four frolicking in the Swiss Alps accompanied by “Ticket to Ride” in the movie Help!:

    • Agreed, that screenshot from Waqt might be seen as rather risque (come to think of it, Waqt also did have a couple of relatively ‘bold’ scenes, by the standards of 1965: for instance, where Sadhana and Sunil Dutt’s characters go swimming).

      I think, barring Sharmila Tagore’s forays into the snow in Aradhana and Talaash, most of the other women in the older films are fairly well-clad for the snow. Sharmila’s outfits are utterly ridiculous: they’ve made her look as if she’s impervious to cold. But I do remember that in (I think the 90s?) there was this trend of chiffon-sari-wearing actresses standing in the snow and singing romantic songs, which really got my goat.

      Thanks for Ticket to Ride! I liked the video – they seem to be having so much fun.

      • Your are right that the gauzy chiffon in snow craze started after 70s. We have to blame Yash Chopra for that. One of the most overpraised directors in Hindi cinema, who undeservingly received most of credit for good work of screenwriters, actors and composers. The craze is no longer there but does pop up now and then.

        I also recalled that two music videos for the group Queen were filmed in snowy countryside:

        Though the songs are good to listen to, it’s a harebrained idea to film these two with only the band and no one else in the middle of nowhere when they are clearly destined and designed to be performed in nothing less than a huge stadium with thousands of screaming fans in audience.

        There’s another beautiful, soothing song by the English goth rock band The Cure:

        From Wikipedia: The Tim Pope directed video was shot in Ballachulish, Scotland during the February 1990 “week of the big snow”, with Robert Smith mentioning that he had never been colder before.

        • Interesting! The only song here I was familiar with was We will rock you – and that only the audio version; I’d never seen the video. Agree with the two Queen songs being designed for a stadium-style concert, certainly not something sung to no-one in a snowscape.

  8. Then there is Katiya karoon form Rockstar which has some snow towards the end of it

    And yes, you are right about the romanticism around snow ….only people who have dealt with it can imagine what a pain it can be :)

    Also, as I observe, the newer songs seems to be a little more realistic about what you SHOULD be wearing in the snow :))

    • “the newer songs seems to be a little more realistic about what you SHOULD be wearing in the snow :))

      Yes, thank goodness!

      Katiya karoon was new to me. Thanks for this one.

  9. Nice post, Madhu. Yes, it is often fun to watch scenes filmed in the snow.

    Since you mentioned Kashmir quite a bit, maybe it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to cross the border for an Urdu film scene in Pakistan. I love this Noor Jehan song in Intezar (1956).

    • Thanks for this one, Richard! Yes, songs from across the border are more than welcome. :-) It’s a nice song, too, though (except for some distant shots of snowy peaks) I can’t see much snow… or is the picture quality such that what I’m thinking is white water or grassy slopes is actually snow?

      • I think the shots switch between white water and and grassy slopes and snowy peaks. I see snowy peaks behind some of the shots of Noor Jehan (can’t really tell how distant they are), and I see a lot of snow in the opening of the video . But, yes, I think the quality of the picture makes it a little confusing sometimes regarding what is what. .Anyway, I know that Noor Jehan’s character in this film comes from the mountains, and I always remember it as a snowy mountain peak song. :)

        • “Anyway, I know that Noor Jehan’s character in this film comes from the mountains, and I always remember it as a snowy mountain peak song. :)”

          I’ll take your word for it. :-) Is it a good movie? It’s been a long long time since I watched the other Noorjehan Pakistani movie you recommended – Dopatta – and I would welcome more recommendations.

  10. I now remember a song from the 1973 movie Banarasi Babu which had the evergreen Dev Anand in a double role and Raakhee and Yogeeta Bala were the heroines.

    Neither the song nor the movie set the box office on fire like most of Dev saab’s movies from the 70s onwards.

  11. What a timely post, Madhu. It’s snowing (again) in my corner of the world. :-) I’m feeling quite nostalgic after reading your reminiscences of winters in Kashmir and recalling my own childhood days (and nights) spent with a “kangri” tucked under my “pheran.” Sigh. Dil dhoondta hai phir wohi…

    Anyway, here’s another snowy Kashmir song:

    Nazron se keh do – Doosra Aadmi/Rajesh Roshan/Lata-Kishore/Majrooh

    • Somehow I never got around to using a kangri, but phirans even we wore – they are so much warmer than coats! And bukhaaris – I remember, we even had them in our classrooms at school, and by the time we were in class VII, we were old enough to fetch our own ration of coal from the coal shed. The boys would make raids on it, and when the coal shed got empty, we stuffed newspaper into the bukhaari and were delighted to discover that coloured inks would turn the flame pretty colours. :-)

      Thank you for that Doosra Aadmi song – I’d forgotten this one!

  12. Talking about going to school in the snow, here is Hawa Chale raise from Daag

    A little impractical (with skirts and all) but yes, schools do stay open when it snows :)

  13. Your post about snow couldn’t have come at worst time possible… Temps sending us 20 below zero this morning, I would kill to see hot, sunny beaches, instead of this white stuff…

    Just kidding.. Sorry, couldn’t help myself there.

    I like the songs you included and have always wondered what you pointed out:

    “Why does Hindi cinema seem to think that village girls, even if otherwise dressed to the nines, will go about barefoot, even in the snow?”

    It bugs me to no end.
    I will come back with some of my suggestions later but great post and unique topic!

    • I know what you mean! That pretty white stuff looks all very well if you’re seeing it onscreen, or if you’re only visiting for a couple of days and you’ve never experienced snow before – then the novelty of it is great fun! But living with it: no, that is not something I enjoy!

      So true about Hindi cinema’s ideas about villagers. Interestingly, at least in India I’ve seen just the opposite happen regarding weather. People who live in mostly cold areas – Kashmir, Himachal, Uttaranchal – often tend to get so used to being warmly clad that you’ll find them wearing some form of woollens even when most visiting plainspeople wouldn’t wear woollens!

  14. It would be very interesting if you could write about great songs which were never included (or only a bit of the song was included) in the final version of the movie, or the movie itself was never made. A few examples I remember
    are Chain se hum ko Kabhi from Pran Jaye par
    Vachan na jaaye, (never included in the movie)Nighaen na phero from
    Black Prince (never made) , Hum haal e dil sunayenge (only a bit was included in Madhumani).
    I am sure you will know more such songs

    • Thanks for the suggestion, but I’ll pass that up – because Anu (at Conversations Over Chai) did a brilliant post on that theme sometime back. You should go over to her blog and search it out. Some great songs there.

  15. Madhu ji ,
    Sorry for having commented so late .

    I must congratulate U for the research U had done to find songs on this theme.
    While watching some songs of Ur list , I kept on saying ” अरे इस गानेंमें भी बर्फ दिखाया हैं क्या ?!!!! ”
    Nd I found Sharmila in so many songs in the list nd comments , that it can b said
    ” बेबे को बर्फ पसंद हैं !!! ”

    I njoyed Ur dad’s खटमलवाली comment .
    nd also one line from the comments section ” pran jaye par fashion na jaye ”

    Well , I admit that I haven’t found out any song to add .

    Madhu ji , thnx for the post on somewhat different nd difficult theme .

    • Pramodji, thank you so much for your comment. Glad you liked this post, and the comments! I agree, it does look as if “बेबे को बर्फ पसंद हैं!” :-D And we haven’t even included Akele-akele kahaan jaa rahe ho, which, though it’s not shot in the snow, has plenty of snow in the background.

      Here’s another song that I like a lot and which, though it goes on to other locales, begins in the snow. Danny Denzongpa and Jaya Bhaduri in Tu laali hai saverewaali:

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