Gulzar: A life in long verse and great form
Celebrate Gulzar's remarkable journey through poetry, cinema, and literature, showcasing his enduring voice and creative evolution.
Across poetry, cinema, songwriting and literature, Gulzar has continually reinvented himself while retaining an unmistakable voice and an enduring love for the written word
Updated - August 20, 2026 09:23 pm IST
Lyricist Gulzar. File | Photo Credit: The Hindu
A river runs for centuries and yet belies the idea of permanence. It flows away as it flows in, can both flood and run dry, take in tributaries, change course and annex newer territories. A long creative career carries a similar paradox. While retaining an essential recognisable voice it must continually acquire new vocabularies. For over seventy years, Picasso did not merely survive shifting artistic movements but actually spearheaded most of them without once falling out of contention.
And there isn’t a more compelling Indian parallel to this than Gulzar. Rarely has someone spent decade after decade at the very summit of multiple demanding public crafts, without a prominent phase of decline and without the grandiosity that often accompanies greatness. An influential Urdu poet, a lyricist, a film and television director, author, screenwriter, children’s writer, translator, Gulzar has looked into this world through every possible lens and the world too has looked back gratefully, bestowing on him every known national and international award, from the Dadasaheb Phalke Award to the Jnanpith Award, from the Oscar to the Grammy. To tweak one of his own lines he wrote for the film ‘Anand’, his career has not just been extensive but expansive too (Zindagi badi honi chahiye, lambi nahi).
Gulzar came to film songwriting at a time when the lyricists’ fraternity was a formidable roll-call of masters such as Shailendra, Sahir Ludhianvi, Shakeel Badayuni, Rajendra Krishan amongst others. Gulzar wrote his first film song for Bimal Roy’s ‘Bandini’ - Mora Gora Ang Laile set in Vaishnava verse. And right away, he had found his niche as a lyricist in a roomful of titans.
Though bound by the strict film song conventions of metre, rhyming, musicality, situations and the need to fit lyrics into a pre-composed tune, Gulzar has always commanded a singular, unmistakable idiom. While this signature is instantly perceptible, it defies easy definition. The style is a curious blend of abstraction (Is mod se jaate hain from ‘Aandhi’), symbolism (Wo Yaar hai Jo Khushboo Ki Tarah, Jiski Zubaan Urdu Ki Tarah from ‘Dil Se’), poetic flourish (Do Nainon Mein Aansoo Bhare Hain, Nindiya Kaise Samaye from ‘Khushboo’), paronomasia (Sare ke Sare gama Ko Lekar Gaate Chale from ‘Parichay’), political messaging (Haal Chaal Thik Thaak Hain from ‘Mere Apne’), allusion to nature (Hawaaon Pe Likh Do from ‘Do Dooni Chaar’), vivid imagery (Chhote Chhote sheheron from ‘Bunty Aur Babli’), dark humour (Goli Maar Bheje Mein from ‘Satya’), arcane vocabulary (Aab-o-dana dhoondhte hain ek aashiyaana dhoondte hain from ‘Gharonda’), a rich worldview (Aane Wala Pal from ‘Golmaal’), and above all, an emotional heft (Humne Dekhi haiIn Aankhon Ki Mehekti Khushboo from ‘Khamoshi’) that can entirely ambush a listener mid-song.
Critics may argue that such sophistication is at odds with a “film” song, a form expected to resonate with the masses without demanding much of interpretive labour. And yet Gulzar has repeatedly proven otherwise. Many of his songs have captured popular imagination like none other such as Humko Mann Ki Shakti Dena from ‘Guddi’, a regulation prayer song in schools even today or Beedi Jalaile from ‘Omkara’ oozing a rustic exuberance or the infectiously playful Kajra Re from ‘Bunty Aur Babli’. Despite his uncommon idiom, his songs have found universal acceptance aided by composers such as R.D. Burman, A.R. Rahman and Vishal Bharadwaj who have matched their crafts effortlessly to his calibre.
The same intellectual courage defines Gulzar’s trajectory as a filmmaker and a screenwriter. Many of Gulzar’s films have been adapted from works of literature. As a writer himself, he could easily find a story’s emotional register and seamlessly infuse it into cinema with sensitivity to things like language, character, subtext, silence, refrains and motifs. He also made films which were topical, championed progressive values, spoke truth to power, presented nuanced worldviews and asked uncomfortable questions all without ever tipping into preachiness. His debut film ‘Mere Apne’ placed disaffected youth at the centre of a story about political disillusionment and loneliness. His ‘Aandhi’ was a political thriller which gave its female lead enormous agency where the male lead plays second fiddle to her. His ‘Mausam’ delicately handles the misplaced romantic affection a sex worker feels for her own biological father, a narrative choice most directors would have flinched at back then. His ‘Maachis’ was a bold and layered exploration of radicalisation set against the Punjab insurgency probing raw wounds without pointing fingers. He has never been the one to take the easy path, neither in his choice of subjects nor in his treatment of them.


