Ten of my favourite cosmetics songs

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This song list actually had its genesis many years ago, when I posted my list of jewellery songs. Back then, it had occurred to me that there were also songs that celebrated other ways (less expensive ways!) of adorning oneself. Cosmetics, most of them the ‘traditional’ ones, rather than those that came to us, along with their names, from the West, are not all that uncommon in Hindi film songs. And with reason: after all, romance plays a major part in old Hindi cinema, and where there is romance, there is shringaar ras: the very essence of attraction. A woman (mostly, though there are instances of men too) is often praised for her beauty, and that beauty is accentuated by cosmetics: by kaajal (kohl) in the eyes, mehendi on the hands, sindoor in the parting of the hair, and so on.

It’s taken me a long time to actually track down all the songs on the list (some are from fairly obscure films, and are obscure songs in themselves), but here they are. As always, these songs are all from pre-1970s Hindi films that I’ve seen. In addition, so as to make it a little bit more challenging for myself, I’ve ensured that no two songs feature the same cosmetic. Ten songs, therefore, and ten cosmetics.

In no particular order:

1. Lipstick lagaane waale (Shrimatiji, 1952): Lipstick. This delightful song is actually one of the very rare ones I’ve come across that refer to a ‘modern’, Western cosmetic. Even rarer, this is an allusion to a cosmetic not in its sense as a beautifier, a signifier of shringaar ras: instead, it is here a symbol of a fashionable woman, not a ‘dowdy homebody’. Through clever, amusing lyrics (Raja Mehdi Ali Khan’s), we see a glimpse of hep young ladies, reduced to doing housework because they’ve been left without the means to hire maids. All the cosmetics, all the naaz-o-ada has gone for a toss, leaving them sweeping, cooking and cleaning.

2. Kajra mohabbat waala akhiyon mein aisa daala (Kismat, 1968): Kaajal. The eye cosmetic known as kaajal or kajra is one of the most common traditional cosmetics: one, in fact, that has seen a revival in modern forms, with kaajal pencils being used now to outline eyes. Kaajal would be one of those rare cosmetics that one could easily (and safely) make at home, by burning ghee-dipped cottonwool and mixing the resultant soot with camphor and/or sandalwood. It was therefore freely available, and so it’s common to see many onscreen women applying kaajal: even when they aren’t very well-off or fashionable otherwise.

The ubiquity of kaajal means that there are plenty of songs celebrating this cosmetic, from Mujhse bhala yeh kaajal tera, nain base din-rain (The Train) to Kaajal waale nain milaake (Devar) to Kajra lagaake gajra sajaake (Apna Desh)—and many more. Kismat, however, took the prize here, with not one but two songs about kaajal: Aankhon mein qayamat ke kaajal, and Kajra mohabbat waala. The former is more romantic, more predictable; the latter, more madcap, gets my vote, especially since the one whose kajra-donning skills are being praised is Biswajit in drag.

3. Gore-gore haathon mein mehendi rachaake (Parineeta, 1956): Mehendi. Known in English as henna, mehendi (like kaajal) is a cosmetic easily accessible and cheap. I remember, as a young girl, plucking glossy mehendi leaves from bushes in our garden, grinding them and applying the (rather coarse, I will admit) paste on to my hands in swirly patterns. Now, of course, you get dried, finely powdered mehendi, so all that’s needed is a steady hand and loads of practice. And mehendi is still hugely popular, not as an everyday cosmetic, but as something for a special occasion. Festivals that celebrate womanhood (or a patriarchal concept of womanhood!) such as Karva Chauth or Teej often involve mehendi being painted on to hands.

The commonest mention of mehendi in Hindi cinema songs, however, is as a symbol of a wedding: a bride’s palms being decorated with mehendi as part of her bridal makeup. This comes through not just in songs, but in the names of films too: for instance, Mehendi lagi mere haath re (Mehendi Lagi Mere Haath) and Mehboob ki mehendi haathon mein (Mehboob ki Mehendi). My favourite mehendi song is a much more sedate, sweet one: Gore-gore haathon mein mehendi rachaake, where a little girl’s dolls’ wedding is being celebrated, but the older woman who’s helping out (Meena Kumari) is able to identify with those lyrics, is able to dream about her own wedding, someday…

4. Bindiya chamkegi churi khankegi (Do Raaste, 1969): Bindi. The bindi, that ‘dot on the forehead’, as so many Westerners once seemed to think was typical of Indian women (do they still do? I hope not). Originally a dot of either vermilion (sindoor) or its cousin kumkum, bindis have also been updated, stick-on patches for a long time now. Incidentally, those little adhesive-backed bindis are among my pet peeves: I see red every time I find one of those stuck on to a mirror.

So, bindis. And how they enhance a woman’s beauty, and thus are capable of distracting a man, as in this song, where Mumtaz’s character sets out, quite ruthlessly, to divert the attention of her lover from the studies he’s supposed to be doing. Bindis are the focus of several other good songs, a classic one being the melodious Teri bindiya re, as well as the once-popular Chaand jaise mukhde pe bindiya sitaara.

5. Sar jo tera chakraaye ya dil dooba jaaye (Pyaasa, 1957): Hair oil. This very famous and very good song is also an unusual one. Firstly, because it refers to a ‘cosmetic’ that is, at least in this context, applicable to men rather than women. Secondly, because—though the cosmetic in question isn’t mentioned till well into the last line of the chorus—the song is really all about the cosmetic. Johnny Walker’s champi (masseur; ‘champi’, incidentally, is the root word for shampoo) extols the virtues of his hair oil: scented with musk, it gets rid of both baldness and dryness of the scalp. And how, when he uses his hands to rub that miracle-working oil into a scalp: it magically soothes away woes, smoothens out the niggles and worries of life, makes everything look that much brighter.

Well before gels and mousses and other fancy hairstyling products came into the market, hair oil was a big thing (it still is, for a lot of people). In fact, to have hair that was dry and therefore messy or uncontrolled was considered a sign of extremely poor grooming. It’s a sentiment that’s expressed with emphasis in Mera dulha shehar se aaya re, from Do Dulhe: this unkempt bridegroom, hair all dry and flyaway without oil in it…!

6. Aankhon mein surma daalke jab aayegi dulhaniya (Rani Rupmati, 1959): Surma. Most people think of surma as synonymous with kaajal, but though they are both used to highlight and outline the eyes, there are differences between them too. Kaajal, for one, is always black, but surma may range from black to grey, green, blue, and other shades. Kaajal (as mentioned above) is derived from soot, whereas surma is of mineral origin: it’s derived from antimony. Also, surma was traditionally used not so much to decorate the eyes (remember all those heavily made-up eyes in Egyptian murals? A lot of that is surma), but for medication. To protect the eyes from the hot sun. It’s another matter that scientific research in recent times has proved that surma has high concentrations of lead and is probably best avoided.

But. Surma does appear now and then in Hindi cinema (and sometimes, too, on men’s eyes: this is one of the few cosmetics that were traditionally used by men as well as women). Here, though, the allusion is to a woman: a bride, all decked up, with surma in her eyes. An unforgivably short song, but still.

7. Rakh laaj mere sindoor ki, Gaura Parvati (Ram Hanuman Yudh, 1957): Sindoor. Sindoor, nowadays mostly vermilion (a purified, refined form of cinnabar, which can be toxic) was originally herbal: either derived from mixing turmeric with alum or lime, or a product of the annatto tree. While annatto is used in the manufacture of modern lipsticks and nail polishes, its use as a cosmetic in India is related more to a symbolic function than actual beautification. The sindoor in the parting of a married woman is the symbol of her marriage: a synonym, so to say, of her being married. Thus it is that Nirupa Roy’s character in Ram Hanuman Yudh, when her husband is in danger of her life, prays to the goddess Gaura (Parvati), to protect her sindoor. Not a great song, and because it’s in black and white, you can’t actually see the sindoor in her parting, but anyway.

8. Chandan sa badan chanchal chitwan (Saraswati Chandra, 1968): Sandalwood. Sandalwood is considered one of the most important ingredients in traditional Indian cosmetics. The fragrance of the wood is of course a major factor in its use, but other than that, too, sandalwood has other features that make it popular as a part of a beauty (especially skin care) regime. Sandalwood, used as a paste or in the form of an oil, can be used to reduce tan and even out skin tone, reduce inflammation and clear acne, and treat a whole bunch of other skin problems.

The reference to the cosmetic here is somewhat oblique, but really, there could be no greater praise for a cosmetic than to have a woman’s beauty compared to it, could there? (At least not in Hindi cinema). Manish’s character, praising the loveliness of his betrothed (Nutan) tells her her body is like sandalwood: or as if it’s been treated with sandalwood, I suppose.

9. Rang-rangeeli botal ka dekh lo jadoo (Shriman Satyawadi, 1960): Blemish Balm (BB Cream). I began this list with a ‘Western’ cosmetic, lipstick. As I’d mentioned, that’s a rare song: Hindi cinema seems to be dominated by songs celebrating traditional indigenous cosmetics like kaajal, mehendi, sindoor, and bindis. But, to end this list, two more songs about Western-style cosmetics; this one, a BB cream, first. Like Sar jo tera chakraaye, Rang-rangeeli botal ke dekh lo jadoo may not at the start mention what the item is, but there’s no escaping the fact that the song is all about the BB cream that Mehmood’s character is trying to sell. It’s even there, written in big letters, what all this magic cream is supposed to do: remove wrinkles, clean up your skin, turn you several shades fairer, and more.

10. Rukh pe powder labh pe surkhi (Hum Kahaan Jaa Rahe Hain, 1966): Face powder. Hum Kahaan Jaa Rahe Hain was one of those obscure (and deservedly so) films that happen to also have interesting music. This film was home to the fairly popular and nice Rafta rafta woh hamaare dil ke armaan ho gaye, but it also had this song. Rukh pe powder labh pe surkhi is a mishmash of styles: it starts off focussing on the ‘fashion ka poora hai zor’ (‘fashion dominates’) assertion, then piggybacks on that to talk about Hollywood stars like Brigitte Bardot and Sophia Loren, before doing a medley of songs by Elvis, Little Richard and Cliff Richard. Finally, it ends up with brief parodies of a couple of popular Hindi film songs. A khichdi, so to say.

But at least that bit about the powder is there. The ‘labh pe surkhi’ is also a reference to lipstick (especially given the context: the Westernized and fashionable miss here is not using just some other reddening agent from out of the panoply of ‘traditional Indian’ cosmetics).

So, that’s my list. Do you have other songs you can suggest? Even any that refer to cosmetics already on this list will be welcome, but I’d also love it if you have any songs about stuff like mushk (musk), ittar/attar, aalta, haldi-kumkum, etc!

48 thoughts on “Ten of my favourite cosmetics songs”

  1. excellent !

    very enjoyable indeed. The first song that came to my mind was

    Kyun jee scent lagaya hai by Firoz Dastur and Amirbai karnataki from Neki aur Badi, Roshan’s first venture

    and, one Marathi song at Haldi ceremony during wedding. Not a popular song.

    Anup

    :-)

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    • Thank you so much, Anupji! Kyon bhai scent lagaaya hai was a song I had come across while I was researching this, so I’m especially glad to see you posting it. :-) Halad lagaali, of course, was new to me.

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  2. Dear Madhu,

    It has been a while since I had a comment to make on your blog-posts, though I have been assiduously following them!

    The PC I have been using has been getting “overloaded”, and I have reservations about using my cell-phone for this… (call me “technologically challenged!)

    Without any delay:

    The cosmetic is “kajal” — and you did say one could refer to cosmetics on your list…!
    and the song is from Raj Khosla’s film ” Do Raaste” (1969).
    And, duly noted, you have another song ( for a different cosmetic) from the same film.

    Here is the LINK to one of my all-time favourite songs,
    ….and it was KK’s as well!

    “Chhup Gaye Saare Nazare, oye kya baat ho gai,…….
    ……………………………………………………………………………………
    Tunay Kajal lagaaya din mein raat ho gai

    Fervently hope that my reply goes through with the LINK given below:

    (Madhu, in case the LINK does not open …
    (due to the afore-mentioned trouble with my PC),
    A REQUEST:
    Please do your bit for me by giving the LINK to the video of this song on YouTube.

    Thanks, over to you!

    Praba Mahajan

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    • Praba, thank you so much for this one! I like Chhup gaye saare nazaare a lot too. It’s a wonderfully teasing, romantic song. And of course Mumtaz and Rajesh Khanna are great together.

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  4. Wow! I recognize just four songs. Kajra Mohabbat Waala…is fun. 

    Not from the list, but Teri Bindiya Re is a beautiful song. Even the picturization. It seems like they are singing the song themselves (Aisa lagta hai ki itne saare logon ke beech hokar bhi jaise bas wo dono hain).

    There’s a song ‘Aankhon mein kajal hai, Kajal mein mera dil hai…’ 

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  5. Madhuji,it is actually difficult to get 10 different cosmetics. I was wondering if there was any song on haldi which is traditionally used as a cosmetic. Also references to lep or ubtan might be found in songs which I cannot recall right now. Traditionally, sambrani dhoop has been used to dry hair which one would find in many an old movie depicting royalty/nobility.

    The screen grab at the beginning of the post,as I can make out, is from the memorable song of Sahib Biwi aur Ghulam. Mohini Sindoor has a special role to play in the movie.

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    • I hadn’t known about sambrani dhoop, Anitaji. Thank you for that bit of information!

      And yes, that first screenshot is indeed from Piya aiso jiya mein samaaye gayo re, which I always think of as a stellar example of a song celebrating shringaar! Every bit of it is so evocative of a woman prettying herself up. And of course as you mention Mohini sindoor is such an important element in the film.

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  6. Kudos to you on finding all theses obscure songs and the cosmetics as well.
    Thanks also for the mine on informationa bout cosmetics, of which I had no idea, like champi being the root word of shampoo.
    Traditional cosmetics are difficult to find in the hindi songs since they are not evident to be sung about, in the sense that only their effect are to be seen and not the cosmetic itself. Then the words shikakai, besan, haldi, lep and all such words are too heavy to find their way in songs. Kaajal is used in many songs. like for e.g.,
    ye nainaa ye kaajal from Dil Se Mile Dil (1978)
    aankhon me kaajal hai from Doosra Aadmi (1977)

    Laali is used often in context of lips and I have always wondered if it is a synonym for lipstick or did women ( and men) use something else to redden their lips (like paan)? Seeds of Bixa orellana were used by the indigenous people of South America to redden their lips and also for body-painting.
    honthon pe laali hai from 10 O’Clock (1958)

    That is all I can come up with right now.

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    • I hadn’t thought about this – “Traditional cosmetics are difficult to find in the hindi songs since they are not evident to be sung about, in the sense that only their effect are to be seen and not the cosmetic itself.” – very true, Harvey! I guess the only mentions one might expect of these kinds of cosmetics are when (as in the case of Piya aiso jiya mein samaaye gayo re, though that doesn’t actually mention it) the scene/setting is of make-up being done. Possibly during the haldi-chandan ka ubtan ceremonies that form part of weddings… though despite much searching, I couldn’t actually find anything.

      Thank you for the kaajal songs, and the laali one. I am not sure what might have been used in pre-lipstick days in India to redden lips, but paan sounds like a contender. :-)

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      • “Possibly during the haldi-chandan ka ubtan ceremonies that form part of weddings”
        I think you also had the Vicco Turmeric ad of our teenage years, when you wrote this.
        I also racked my brains to think of any such songs, but they are all of mehndi and piya se milan sort of songs.

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        • “I think you also had the Vicco Turmeric ad of our teenage years”

          Those ads really made quite an impression, no?! I must tell you: we were exploring one of Delhi’s biodiversity parks last year and I photographed a plant I couldn’t identify. When I used Google Lens to identify it, I realized it was Barleria – in Hindi, vajradanti. And of course the first thing that came to my mind was Vicco Vajradanti! :-)

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          • These are good additions to the list, Harvey! Thank you.

            I am intrigued about the ‘kumkum pushp’, though – was kumkum also derived from saffron? I was under the impression that, botanically, it came from annatto.

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            • Well, the annato tree (Bixa orellana) is from the Americas, so in India, they must have been using something else. I have read that kumkum can also made from turmeric, whose latin name is Curcuma, which also sounds like kumkuma. I also read that kumkum can be made from saffron, but that would be like a very expensive kumkum. Nowadays I think that kumkum which is sold has many artificial colouring agents too.

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              • Yes, I can imagine saffron-based kumkum being really expensive – I suppose the sort of thing that the womenfolk of a very wealthy family might wear just by way of a status symbol. ;-)

                Talking of botanical sources of kumkum/sindoor, I remember coming across this tree while on the way to Dehradun. In Hindi, it’s known as kamla, and I believe the red powder that rubs off its berries is also used as kumkum.

                https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mallotus_philippensis

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    • I’m glad you enjoyed this, Anu, and thank you for adding those two songs! I did hope someone would add Surmaiyee akhiyon mein. :-) Kajra lagaake bindiya sajaake was a song I’d forgotten about – probably a result of having seen that horrid film on Doordarshan back when I was a teenager, and having decided that I needed to scrub the whole thing out of my memory.

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  9. Quite an enjoyable post.

    Could recollect a few songs from the 90s but posting first a song from Pehli Raat 1959 – Ye powder ye surkhiyan gira rahi hai bijliyan.

    Couldn’t locate the video but must be picturized on Johnny Walker.

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  11. I found a few more cosmetic songs. Thus, at least 50% of the cosmetics on your wish list are covered and one more added.

    In chale aao sainyya rangili main vaari re from Bazaar (9182) in the last part the bride sings that without him she doesn’t like any singaar and mentions kaajal, surkhi, mitti (multani mitti face-packs?) and mehndi.

    In is jahaan ka pyaar jhootha from Amardeep (1958) there is no bridal finery and also no description of the coiffured man but indirectly of the vainness of the modern man, who it seems would rather wear ittar rather than right love letters in blood. I would be rather aghast and quite repulsed, instead of getting enamoured, if anybody wrote me a love letter in blood, but there is no accounting for tastes.

    In man hi man muskaye re dulhaniya from Tu Nahin Aur Sahi (1960), the bridesmaid sings about the bride’s singaar and mentions gajra, kajra, bindiya and mehndi.

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    • Arre wah! I am really impressed, Harvey. This must have taken a lot of research. I have watched Tu Nahin Aur Sahi, but didn’t remember Man hi man muskaaye re dulhaniya (probably because the film itself was so forgettable). The other two songs were new to me. Yes, I ought to have watched Bazaar by now, but I haven’t… must do that someday soon.

      Thank you for these, very good additions to the list!

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      • I saw Bazaar (1982) a long, long time ago when it was boradcast on DD, but it left quite a strong impression on me. The hyderabadi dialect is also very fascinating to listen to and moreover the music is great and quite often listen to the songs. I like Sulabha Deshpande, who has a small but significant role in it.
        Thanks to you Madhu for giving me the opportunity to search for the songs. It was fun.

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  15. From the 70s – Teri palkon mein kaajal – Jay Veijay

    Some songs from the 90s that I am not fond of –

    Meri bindiya teri nindiya – Lamhe

    Ye bindiya ye kajra – Vansh

    Kaajal kaajal teri ankhon ka ye kaajal – Sapoot

    And an 80s song with sindoor and bindiya from a terrible melodrama – Sada Suhagan

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  17. What a lovely post! When I read the title, ‘Piya aiso Jiya mein’ was the first song that came to my mind. 

    Most of the my favourites are covered in the post and replies. Shall start with marathi favourite 

    Fulale re kshan maze talks about shagoon ki mehndi.

    Then there is Mehendi hai rachnewali from Zubeida.

    Na kajre ki dhar na motiyon ke haar is unique in the sense that fellow is saying his beloved does not need any cosmetics or adornments to look beautiful. 
    Chhap and tilak cannot be really described as cosmetics but they do adorn the face sometimes hence Chhap tilak sab chheeni.

    Neither is Vibhuti a cosmetic, yet an important ritual for many. Hence including Shivji bihane chale

    Fragrance is another important aspect of cosmetics. So streching the theme a bit to include is a recent favourite Ruan Ruaan from PS2. Seems Khushboo is Gulzar’s favourite with legendary ‘aankho ki khushboo’ but sadly it won’t fit the theme. 

    And since ‘Aap ki mehki hui’ cannot be included, I must include another favourite by Yesudas Surmayee Ankhiyon mein

    And few marathi ones

    Halad pivali literally describes haldi ceremony and metaphorically indicates that she now belongs to him. 
    Dhoop is also kind of fragrance used. Hence including this legendary bhupali.

    Can a tattoo be classified as a cosmetic? It is supposed to be adorning one’s body. Chimb Pavasane Raan from ‘Sarja’ talks about gondani (tattoo) literally but in reality it is talking about ahem….hickey.

    Bhasm may not be your or my idea of cosmetic. But Shivji likes the same and Parvati does not object, rather she is thinking about Bhasm Vilepit Shivji. To each her own…

    Abir is applied in form of tilak and typically Vaarkaris of Maharashtra wear it. Here is the Abir Gulaal depicting the same.

    Bhandara is another kind of yellow tilak which covers entire forehead and typically worn during pooja for Renuka or Khandoba.

    And the last two specify shringar in general – Jahlya tinhi sanja & Rajasa Javali Jara Basa

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    • What a brilliant exploration of ‘cosmetics’ in different senses! I especially want to applaud Shivji bihaane chale – that’s a favourite song of mine, and the applying of vibhuti ash had never struck me as actually a ‘cosmetic’. Thank you, in particular, for that. Plus, of course, all the other things I’ve learned about – abir, bhandara and dhoop, for instance (I somehow always thought dhoop was used as a room fragrance, not as a perfume for the body).

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  18. Seems my other post has gone for moderation. Meanwhile found marathi song ‘ Attaracha faya’ about cotton ball soaked in attar.

    In Mere Ghar Ayee, ittr is mentioned. The reference may not be cosmetic, babies do smell heavenly. 

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    • I had forgotten about Mere ghar aayi referring to itr. Thank you for that!

      babies do smell heavenly. 

      Only if you encounter them when they’re all fresh and clean! God help you if you’re the one having to change dirty nappies. ;-)

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