Parents of Uphaar tragedy victims release heartfelt tribute song
How do you contain grief in the drawing room of an apartment in an upscale Noida neighbourhood where trees give shade to bungalows from the summer sun and rainy winds? How do you let days become weeks and months become years when life has stood still around a fateful June afternoon 27 years ago? Outside, it is a wet August day; grey and humid, it weighs heavy on the soul. Inside, Unnati will always be 17 years old and her brother, Ujjwal, all of 13.
They gaze out from photo frames on a wooden cabinet next to a decorated wall, smiling, laughing, hugging and posing. Their parents Shekhar and Neelam Krishnamoorthy have spent decades looking at the photos while age caught up with them, unnoticed. In all these years, one thing has remained unchanged in the Krishnamoorthy home—the grit to not let the conversation stop around the Uphaar cinema fire tragedy that took Unnati and Ujjwal away from them, no matter how much it hurts. This time around, they have bared their hearts in a special song and let music speak their words of sorrow.
Shekhar’s new number, Tanhaa Tanhaa is a reminder of the couple’s irreparable loss. A tribute to Unnati and Ujjwal, their children, who lost their lives in the 1997 Uphaar Cinema fire. The lyrics are written by Praveen Saxena and composed by Shubha Mudgal. It narrates the agony and loneliness of parents longing for their children and fighting for justice for almost three decades.
The heart breaking words take the listener back to the tragedy: Ek pal de gaya zindagi bhar ka gum, reh gayi yaadein aur tanha se hum. Dhoondti hai nazar, chhup gaye woh kidhar, aise khojaayenge, thi kisay ye khabar. Jin se thi zindagi, jinse thi har khushi, le gayi saath unko dhuein ki lehar. (A moment gave us a lifetime of regret and we are only left with memories. Our eyes keep searching for them. Who knew we would be parted this way. They were our life and our source of happiness and the wind of smoke took them away from us.)
The single was released on August 2 and the composition is a euphonious combination of the guitar, piano, flute and esraj. Shekhar says, “It is our story and we did not feel anyone apart from us could have done justice to the song. We have not just created this song but actually lived it.”
Both Unnati and Ujjwal were music enthusiasts, which wasn’t surprising since their father had been an accomplished singer. Shekhar, who was associated with music labels like T-Series back in the day, also sang a cover-version for the 1986 film Karma. However, he soon went back to his business and continued singing as a hobby. It was in the 1990s that he became a contracted artiste with Magnasound, which specialised in Indian classical music, Indian rock and Indipop.
Going back to melody after the Uphaar tragedy felt impossible for Shekhar. He says, “Music has always brought me solace but it was extremely difficult for me to sing again after the death of our children. I needed to feel comfortable putting my music out in the public domain. I was not ready for it. But this time, it felt right. Our children were into music. It is their birthday month and we really wanted to do this for them. The reason that we decided to release it as a single and not as an album was also because we didn’t want it to lose its essence. Tanhaa Tanhaa is dedicated to the memory of our children and the unexplainable vacuum they left behind.”
What makes the song emotionally disturbing is a father telling his story of loss after years of keeping it within. “I sit in front of my children’s photographs and sing. They continue to inspire me. It feels like I can hear them say, ‘papa don’t stop’,” says Shekhar.
When asked about picking up the tune after decades, Shekhar admits; “Studio singing is not easy. You have to be perfect. There is some liberty when it comes to performing on stage. We did not want regular programming and Neelam was very particular about the opening of the song. We did not want to go into the depth of classical music. I have tried to give every word an expression and that is extremely important for a singer. I have done pop albums but that kind of singing is very different. Fortunately, we could get a very good team on board.”
Last year, OTT giant Netflix mounted a series—Trial by Fire—based on the 1997 tragedy that claimed 59 lives. It highlighted the Krishnamoorthys’ fight for justice.
Neelam, who belongs to Shimla, wanted the video of the song to be shot at Jaitak fort in Sirmour district. Having travelled frequently to Himachal Pradesh for the past two decades, the couple feels mountains give them respite from the maddening noise of the city. Neelam says, “I wanted to be a part of the creative process actively. Professional creators could have perfected the technical aspect of the video but would not have understood the yearning of a mother for her children. My husband is not just singing a song but pouring out his 27-year-long suffering and heartache into music.”
Tanhaa Tanhaa is a reminder that loneliness must be avenged. “We have decided to not give up. We will also keep creating more music because our children really enjoyed it. We are touched by the response we are getting for the song and hope it reaches our children wherever they are,” says the couple.
For the Krishnamoorthys, music is the balm for pain.