Chandrima Pal

What is it about the sax (saxophone) that is so entwined with the idea of sex in our country?

There I was at our canteen the other day, sipping a leisurely tea, when my ears picked up this really crass saxophone blaring from the TV sets. It was from a movie starring Manisha Koirala and Sunny Deol. In the scene, Koirala was trying really hard to seduce Deol while some poor bloke played his saxophone in the background (his name will never make to the credit rolls). But Koirala is not alone. She is one of the many heroines who would have seduced their heroes to the tune of bad, uninspiring saxophone music. Jog your memory and you will see how over decades saxophone = seduction in Hindi films.

Do our filmmakers and music composers find this ‘firang’ instrument sexy? Or does the idea of the divine bamboo flute playing out some classical music does not really work in such scenes? I really cannot tell. But the idea is darn amusing. Just remembered a very skinny Salman Khan serenading Bhagyashree from the other side of a glass door on what was purportedly a terrace garden. The film was Maine Pyar Kiya. Once again, it was the saxophone that came to his aid (unfortunately Bhagyashree had to make do with pigeons).

The saxophone is to seduction scenes what the sitar is to happy reunions. Every time a brother embraces another, a smile lights up Nirupa’s Roy’s teary face, lovers are reunited, it is the sitar playing out a short but crisp ‘jhala’. And yes, the flute, which has been traditionally used to express asexual joy, moments of intense emotional outburst.

But the saxophone is always for smoky interiors, rain-drenched outdoors, heroines in sheer garments with blue or red light forming a deadly silhouette. Saxophone=camera moving up say Karisma Kapoor’s legs peeping out of a slit skirt and cut to a dumbstruck Govinda. The music is most of these cases is not the kind of fluid, well-phrased compositions that you would expect. Rather it is more of a broken, wailing, moaning kind of sound that is meant to induce love.

Which brings me to my other pet peeve. Saxophone = Kenny G, the internationally acclaimed artiste whose contribution to our hospitality and communication industry cannot be ignored. His music, which by no means is unworthy of the many awards and accolades it has picked up, has been abused beyond redemption in our country. Every time your call is put on hold, you walk into the loo of any decent hotel, you are in the elevator slowly crawling your way to the 22nd floor, you are waiting for your turn at the salon, it is Kenny G who keeps you ‘enthralled.’

Does Kenny G’s music aid bowel movements? Or does it soften the blow when you have been put on hold for nearly five minutes? Does his music aid digestion so you reach out for more food at the restaurant? Or does he make you wanna fall in love all over again at a hotel, at the lobby, in the elevator, or wherever there is this modern marvel called ‘piped music’. Chances are, it does none of the above.

Meanwhile, notice how the saxophone is slowly being replaced by the guitar? But then that’s a different story, some other day…