Women swooned; men mirrored his sweptback hair and tried to mirror the languid ease of Dev Anand. As the years passed, the songs added to the aura of eternal youthfulness; the growing idea that he would never be forgotten.

It helped that some of his films were directed by stalwarts of the time (Jaal by Guru Dutt; Kala Bazar and Guide by his brother Vijay Anand). It helped immensely that the lines of poetry he mouthed were written and sung by names etched into our history: the poets Sahir Ludhianvi and Majrooh Sultanpuri; the singers Kishore Kumar and Mohammed Rafi. And always, the music of SD Burman.

It was a combination for the ages. Yeh Raat Yeh Chandni from Jaal would, in fact, endure as one of music director Burman’s biggest hits, featuring on compilations and talent hunt contests even today. And it was the Dev Anand oeuvre that would help cement Burman’s status among the greats in those early years, in the years after he moved to Bombay.

A member of the Tripura royal family, Burman had started out composing for Bengali films, as a young man in Calcutta, in the 1930s. He moved to Mumbai in 1944, at a time when Anil Biswas, Naushad, C Ramchandra, Husnlal-Bhagatram and Shankar-Jaikishan were fast establishing themselves in Hindi cinema.

He added a freshness to film sound. With his genius for melody, and his ability to draw from a range of folk traditions, he created melodies that felt both contemporary and timeless.

The peppy Tadbeer Se Bigdi in Guru Dutt’s 1951 film Baazi made the industry sit up and take notice. But it was Yeh Raat Yeh Chandni, based on Raga Kafi, that established the Dev Anand-SD Burman pairing as one to watch.

By now, other iconic pairings had formed — Shankar-Jaikishan-Raj Kapoor, Naushad-Dilip Kumar, RD Burman-Rajesh Khanna. Fans of Burman will argue that none compared.

There was a consistency to what he and Dev Anand created together; it was a hit machine, but one that somehow never sounded too similar, or too different.

Memory bank

Dev Anand would later describe Burman as his musical soulmate.

The hits flowed until the early 1970s — in films such as Paying Guest (1957), Teen Devian (1965), Jewel Thief (1967). Hemant Kumar would be the voice of many of these songs, though he didn’t start out as an obvious choice. According to the biography SD Burman: The Prince-Musician by Anirudha Bhattacharjee and Balaji Vittal, Ludhianvi wanted Rafi or Mahmood. Burman insisted that Hemant Kumar suited the song best, though everyone agreed that his voice, honed on the classical Rabindra Sangeet compositions of Tagore, would not suit the youthfulness and romantic air of their hero.

When they were done remoulding Hemant Kumar’s voice, the trio would generate hits such as Teri Duniya Mein Jeene Se and Chup Hai Dharti from House No 44 (1955; with lyrics by Ludhianvi) and Na Tum Humein Jaano from Baat Ek Raat Ki (1962; with lyrics by Sultanpuri).

Kishore Kumar would be the voice of Dev Anand too, in film classics such as Dukhi Man Mere from Funtoosh (1956), Hum Hain Rahi Pyar Ke from Nau Do Gyarah (1957), Chhod Do Aanchal from Paying Guest and Gaata Rahe Mera Dil from Guide.

Rafi got the unforgettable Khoya Khoya Chand from Kala Bazar, Dil Ka Bhanwar and the title song in Tere Ghar Ke Samne (1963), and Din Dhal Jaaye , Kya Se Kya Ho Gaya and Tere Mere Sapne from Guide (1965).

And so it is, as it so often is, that when one remembers a golden moment from a beloved film — the famous casual lean, the gentle smile, the voice emitting the magic of poetry set to tune — it is about five people’s genius one is watching, not just one’s.