No, they are not the same. Vishal from Vishal-Shekhar is Vishal
Dadlani, not Vishal Bhardwaj.

--- In [email protected], V S Rawat <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
>
> hmm.
> 
> Thinking about it, I find "Mayya Mayya" carrying the same mood as "Bidi 
> Jalaye Le" by the other Vishal (Bhardwaj) (or is Vishal Bhardwaj the 
> Vishal of Vishal-Shekhar? such identical names.)
> 
> Of course, I am not saying copying etc. but the mood of the song. both 
> are such Jolly, freak out, naughty, teaser, tempting, provocative, 
> tantalizing songs, and visuals of both also uphold the same mood. Both 
> songs became quite popular also.
> 
> And there is the beauty of our man. I find Mayya Mayya one of the most 
> complex songs of our man -- so many instruments, arrangement,
non-indian 
> feel, chorus background, strange lyrics, uncommon voice -- and yet, I 
> feel that it was intentionally kept somewhat subdued, controlled voices 
> giving the indication of inner bliss, contemplating whereas Bidi Jalaye 
> Le was comparitively loud, -- that, in front of Mayya Mayya, Bhardwaj's 
> Bidi Jalaye Le sounds to be a poem being rendered by Kindergarten Kids 
> in some school stage play, (but I maintain that it also is good song).
> 
> If Bhardwaj ever compared the two songs, he would have understood that 
> he has to go miles, rather light years, to even touch ARR's shadow.
> 
> --
> Rawat
> 
> On 6/2/2008 12:31 AM India Time, _Jahanzeb Farooq_ wrote:
> 
> >> And couldn't Rahman's Mayya mayya from Guru be seen as a furtive 
> > escapee from the Vishal-Shekhar camp?
> > 
> > Mayya Mayya by VS?? No way.
> > 
> > 
> > --- In [email protected], Vithur <vithurm@> wrote:
> >> *A ditty to make aditi smile*
> >> Saturday May 31 2008 17:57 IST
> >>
> >> *Baradwaj Rangan*
> >>
> >> As if to prove his detractors wrong, as if to silence those 
> > criticisms that
> >> his music cannot be got until you listen to it over and over — like
> >> imposition, filling that blackboard in your mind with grimly 
> > repeated
> >> resolves of "The next time around, I will like this song better" — 
> > A R
> >> Rahman has composed... Wait, that's not the word, for 'composed' 
> > gives the
> >> impression of a certain rigidity of structure, of a schema, of 
> > following a
> >> premeditated thought to its predetermined conclusion, whereas the 
> > instantly
> >> fall-in-lovable Kabhi kabhi Aditi (from Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na) 
> > sounds like
> >> Rahman did nothing more than cup his ear to the chest of a college-
> > goer in
> >> love and translate those heartbeats into notes.
> >>
> >> After a succession of stately, senior-citizen scores, how 
> > delightful it is
> >> to see Rahman strutting about in jeans again, an iPod stuffed in 
> > the back
> >> pocket. When I heard that this notoriously non-prolific composer 
> > had two
> >> soundtracks due to hit stores at the same time — and after a quick 
> > glance
> >> westwards to assure myself that the sun wasn't about to rise 
> > there — I
> >> thought, this week, I'd record my thoughts about Ada and Jaane Tu 
> > Ya Jaane
> >> Na in this column. But that's not going to be possible, because 
> > the endless
> >> listens to Kabhi kabhi Aditi have left me with barely any time to 
> > get to the
> >> other tracks.
> >>
> >> How do I love this song? Let me count the ways. I love the way the 
> > rhythm
> >> kicks in like an afterthought, well into the second line, 
> > changing — in an
> >> instant — the texture of the number that you thought was going to 
> > be
> >> coloured primarily by whiny pickings on an acoustic guitar. I love 
> > the
> >> gradual buildup and explosion in the stanzas, as the
> >> everything's-gonna-be-okay shrug from earlier is fleshed out into 
> > doggerel
> >> universalities — that the bleakness of night will once again give 
> > way to the
> >> light of day, that the flowers will bloom once more. (The actor-
> > playwright
> >> Noël Coward once expressed his astonishment at "how potent cheap 
> > music is."
> >> When you're a certain age, I guess the same could be said of dime-
> > store
> >> philosophising.) And I love the repeated pleas to Aditi to please, 
> > please,
> >> please get out of her blue funk and crack a smile: Hey Aditi, has 
> > de, has
> >> de, has de, has de, has de, has de tu zara / Nahin to bas thoda, 
> > thoda,
> >> thoda, thoda, thoda, thoda muskura.
> >>
> >> Yet, there was the nagging realisation as the song came to a close 
> > that had
> >> it been played for me in a guessing game and had I been asked to 
> > figure out
> >> the composer, I would have dithered between AR Rahman and Shankar-
> > Ehsaan-Loy
> >> and Vishal-Shekhar. Does it appear to anyone else that the lines 
> > between the
> >> troika at the top are increasingly beginning to blur? When the 
> > compositional
> >> style is 'Indian,' I find I'm able to instantly pick out Khwaja 
> > mere Khwaja
> >> as a Rahman creation (no other composer can whip up such a 
> > spiritual
> >> fervour), or Goonji si hai as a number by Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy 
> > (their melody
> >> lines have the smoothest edges in the business).
> >>
> >> But it becomes murkier when we're talking pop-style compositions — 
> > like
> >> Kabhi kabhi Aditi, or Kahin to hogi (from the same album). If the 
> > composer's
> >> names were scratched out from the inlay cover of the Taare Zameen 
> > Par CD,
> >> would you settle on Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy as the brains behind Kholo 
> > kholo and
> >> Jame raho? Or, for that matter, even with Vishal-Shekhar's very
> >> Indian-sounding Main agar kahoon and Jag soona soona laage from Om 
> > Shanti
> >> Om, don't they make you think of Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy? And couldn't 
> > Rahman's
> >> Mayya mayya from Guru be seen as a furtive escapee from the Vishal-
> > Shekhar
> >> camp?
> >>
> >> I wish I knew where I'm going with this — based on the above, 
> > there seems to
> >> be some overarching summation to be made about modern-day 
> > composers, doesn't
> >> it? — but the only conclusion (if it can even be called that) is 
> > that
> >> compositional styles overlap a lot more than they used to.
> >>
> >> I was listening, recently, to Dil sajan jalta hai from Mukti, and 
> > even if I
> >> hadn't already known the name of the composer, the stanzas would 
> > have left
> >> me with little doubt. It's all a smooth rise-and-fall of melody, 
> > till we get
> >> to the phrases shabnam ke girne se, early in the second stanza, 
> > where the
> >> luscious curves flatten abruptly to straight lines, as if, for 
> > those few
> >> seconds, something had caused the scale to sputter and choke to 
> > near-death.
> >> That something is the unmistakable R D Burman signature. Now, why 
> > didn't we
> >> find this in anyone else's music of that time? I'll leave you to 
> > chew over
> >> that while I head back to clear my head with that ditty about 
> > Aditi.
> >> *Film critic,
> >> The New Indian Express.
> >> Feedback to this article
> >> can be sent to
> >> [EMAIL PROTECTED]
> >> **
> >> http://www.newindpress.com/sunday/sundayitems.asp?
> > id=SEF20080531083111&eTitle=Cinema&rLink=0
> >>
> >> -- 
> >> regards,
> >> Vithur
>


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