पिया मेरा केवड़े का फूल

The second of the two Shama–Feroze Dastoor duets in Prabhu Ka Ghar (1945), and the second of the two songs on the picture that Down Melody Lane names as Bulo C. Rani's own compositions. hindigeetmala and myswar both credit it to Bulo C. Rani without Khemchand Prakash, with words by Pandit Indra. The title likens the beloved to the kewda — the screwpine flower of the Indian monsoon, prized above almost all others for its scent.

Both of Bulo C. Rani's duets on this film use the same voice pairing, which points to them having been conceived together as a block. He was one year into his independent career here, having got his break on Ranjit's Pagli Duniya (1944) after five years assisting Khemchand Prakash, and his early manner leaned on light, memorable melody in a folk shape rather than on orchestral weight — a natural fit for a flower-and-monsoon lyric. With Feroze Dastoor's classical training on one side of the duet, some semi-classical shading is likely, but no recording survives to confirm it.

The kewda is a specific and well-chosen image. It flowers in the rains, its scent carries a long way before the plant itself is visible, and the leaves it grows among are sharply serrated — so the flower is proverbially something whose sweetness reaches you first and whose approach is guarded. Calling the piya a kewda flower therefore says more than that he is beautiful: it places the relationship in the monsoon, the season of return and of longing in this poetry, and admits a difficulty alongside the praise. It is also the kind of village-level plant knowledge that marks Pandit Indra's writing across this soundtrack, which stays in plain Hindi rather than in the Urdu-leaning film idiom of the 1940s.

Prabhu Ka Ghar was a Ranjit Movietone social-religious drama directed by Wajahat Mirza and led by Khursheed and Trilok Kapoor. Alongside the film's Krishna songs and its Gita setting, the two Shama–Feroze Dastoor duets form the soundtrack's romantic strand. No print of the film survives and no plot summary is traceable, so which characters these duets belonged to is unknown and is not guessed at here.

The song has not been reissued and no audio circulates, but it is one of only two Prabhu Ka Ghar numbers that appear by name in accounts of Bulo C. Rani's early independent work — the small documented sample of what he was writing in the years between Pagli Duniya (1944) and the Jogan score of 1950 that made his reputation.