The history of Hindi cinema is often divided by eras of legendary composers, but few occupied a space as distinct, as rhythmic, and as unabashedly spirited as Omkar Prasad Nayyar. On the occasion of his birth centenary this January 16, we look back at a man who did more than just compose songs; he bottled the very essence of joie de vivre and set it to a galloping beat.
Born in 1926 in Lahore, O.P. Nayyar was an iconoclast in a suit and a hat, a composer who navigated the golden age of Indian film music without ever conforming to its established norms. With no formal musical training but an abundance of natural instinct, he transformed the soundscape of the 1950s and 60s, proving that rhythm was not just a foundation, but the very soul of a melody.
From Lahore to the High Noon of Bombay
Nayyar’s journey began at All India Radio, Lahore, where at the age of 11, he was already a performing artist. By 17, he had composed the hauntingly beautiful “Preetam Aan Milo,” a song penned by his wife, Saroj Mohini Nayyar, which would later become a classic in the voice of C.H. Atma. Following the Partition, Nayyar moved to Bombay, eventually finding his footing with the background score for Kaneez (1949) and his debut as a music director in Aasmaan (1952).
However, it was his collaboration with the visionary Guru Dutt that truly signaled the arrival of a new musical force. Films like Aar Paar (1954), Mr. & Mrs. ’55 (1955), and C.I.D. (1956) shattered the era’s penchant for heavy melancholia, replacing it with a breezy, urban sophistication. In “Babuji Dheere Chalna” and “Leke Pehla Pehla Pyar,” Nayyar introduced a world that was stylish, flirtatious, and irresistibly modern.
The Architect of the ‘Tonga Beat’
If there is one hallmark that defines the “OP Brand,” it is the infectious “tonga beat.” Nayyar captured the rhythmic clip-clop of horse-drawn carriages and turned it into a national pulse. In the 1957 blockbuster Naya Daur, for which he won the Filmfare Award for Best Music Director, songs like “Maang Ke Saath Tumhara” and “Uden Jab Jab Zulfen Teri” showcased his ability to blend Punjabi folk vigor with orchestral brilliance.
His palette was as unique as his personality. While his contemporaries leaned heavily on classical foundations, Nayyar experimented with the accordion, the clarinet, and the piano. Paradoxically, he was also the composer who brought the soulful, earthy strains of the sarangi into the mainstream, using it to add a layer of sensuality and depth to his otherwise foot-tapping numbers.
The Maverick and His Muses
Nayyar’s professional life was as storied as his music. Most notably, he remains the only major composer of his time who never recorded a song with Lata Mangeshkar. He sought a different texture—the “khanak” or the sharp, crystalline ring he found in the voices of Geeta Dutt, Shamshad Begum, and eventually, his greatest collaborator, Asha Bhosle.
Under Nayyar’s tutelage, Asha Bhosle evolved from a singer in the shadow of her sister to a versatile powerhouse. Together, they produced an unparalleled body of work, from the sultry “Aaiye Meherban” to the ethereal “Chain Se Humko Kabhi.” Though their partnership ended in a bitter, silent parting in the 1970s, the music they created remains the gold standard for romantic and club melodies.
His relationship with Mohammed Rafi was equally legendary. Despite a famous fallout that led Nayyar to work exclusively with Mahendra Kapoor for a period—resulting in hits like “Badal Jaaye Agar Maali”—his eventual reconciliation with Rafi proved that their creative bond was too strong to remain broken.
A Timeless Legacy of Joy
The 1960s were perhaps Nayyar’s most golden years, characterized by a string of hits for the era’s heartthrobs, from Shammi Kapoor in Kashmir Ki Kali to Biswajit and Joy Mukherjee. Whether it was the playful “Yeh Chand Sa Roshan Chehra” or the contemplative “Chal Akela,” his music possessed a quality of timelessness that refused to age.
Even as the industry shifted toward new trends in the 1970s and 80s, Nayyar’s influence never truly waned. To this day, his songs are the lifeblood of retro radio and reality shows, evoking a sense of uncomplicated happiness and romantic elegance.
O.P. Nayyar was more than a music director; he was a “son of the soil” who understood that the human heart beats in rhythm. A century after his birth, his melodies continue to remind us that no matter the hardships of life, there is always a reason to sing, a reason to dance, and always—without fail—a beat to keep us moving.
~Hasnain Naqvi is a former member of the history faculty at St. Xavier’s College, Mumbai
