At the end of the documentary Homi Mullan – The Unsung Hero, percussionist Mullan faces the camera and pointedly questions the audience, “Have you ever bothered to find out the names of the musicians who play the instruments in your favourite songs?” It is a question that will haunt viewers who have wondered about unusual musical sounds in film scores.
Mullan (1940–2015), who began working with music composers in the early 1960s, is the subject of Kushal Gopalka’s documentary. In the 86-minute film, Gopalka traces Mullan’s journey from Kolkata to Mumbai, where the musician came to be closely associated with composer RD Burman.
Gopalka, an Indian classical singer and musicologist with no background in filmmaking, had to be persuaded by Mullan to make the documentary. “It was his faith in me, and he actually emotionally blackmailed me to make it,” Gopalka said. "He told me, You will have to make the film, I won’t allow anyone else.”With such a tall order, Gopalka decided to depict Mullan’s story with a bound script, incorporating actors and staged scenes along with archival footage. The film opens with two music enthusiasts running into Mullan (playing himself) at the Maharashtra Watch Company in Dadar in Mumbai, where Mullan is shown purchasing a music CD of composer V Balsara’s popular songs. The youngsters accost the musician, and he invites them home to recount his story.
“I interviewed Homi Mullan about ten years ago for a monthly newsletter called Swar Alaap and that’s when we hit it off,” Gopalka said about his association with Mullan, which extended to stage shows where they performed together. “He was also a great unsung hero whose contribution to music is immense and I always thought of how we could tell his story beyond stage shows.”
Mullan’s career started as an assistant to Balsara in Calcutta. He played the piano, the accordion and several other musical instruments for the composer. Once he moved to Mumbai, he formed a part of the core team of percussionists hired by Burman. The composer loved experimenting with sound and he often used lesser-heard instruments in his songs.
Mullan played the duggi (kettle drum) in such songs as Oh Mere Dil Ke Chain (Mere Jeevan Saathi, 1972), Dil Aisa Kisi Ne Mera Toda (Amanush,1975) and Aane Wala Pal (Golmaal, 1978). He used the kokiriko, a Japanese percussion instrument, in Gulaabi Aankhein (The Train, 1970). The African harp called kalimba was deployed in Aise Na Mujhe Tum Dekho (Darling Darling, 1977), the triangle chimed in Aao Na Gale Lagao Na (Mere Jeevan Saathi), and the maracas came handy for the tune of Kabhi Palkon Pe Ansoon (Harjaae, 1981).
Mullan played for other musicians too, including Naushad and Anand-Milind, totalling over 6,000 songs in his career. The other instruments he played were the tambourine Khatooba (Alibaba Aur 40 Chor, 1980), vibra slap in Haye Re Haye (Dhongee, 1973), thali plates in Dilbar Dil Se (Caravan, 1971), cowbell in Kitne Bhi Tu (Sanam Teri Kasam, 1982) and the Nepali drum madal in Tere Bina Jiya Jaaye Na (Ghar, 1978). The drumbeat became synonymous with Mullan and came to be identified as the “Homi da” beat pattern. Several other composers including Anand-Milind approached Mullan to play the instrument in his signature style for the song Mujhe Neend Na Aaye (Dil, 1990).
“I was personally always intrigued by the scraping sound in Mere Samne Wali Khidki Mein [Padosan, 1968], until I met Mullan and discovered how he had used the reco-reco,” Gopalka said. In December 2015, Gopalka completed his documentary on the musician, but he could not show Mullan the final copy. Mullan died on December 26, a few days before the film’s completion. “I want people to see the film and appreciate his contribution to music,” Gopalka said.
