क़यामत है कि हम एक बेवफ़ा से प्यार करते हैं

A Rajkumari solo composed by Datta Korgaonkar, and the one track in Yateem's catalogue that a surviving source classifies by form as well as genre — it is listed as both filmi and ghazal. Zia Sarhadi wrote the lyric.

No commercially reissued recording of this track has been located, so its melody and arrangement are not described here from listening. Datta Korgaonkar — credited across the period as both Datta Korgaonkar and K. Datta — took the remaining three songs, making Yateem one of the mid-1940s films where two composers divided a single score rather than sharing it. That a catalogue records this song specifically as a ghazal is itself information: it places the track in the Urdu lyric-form tradition rather than the folk-derived register that much of 1940s film music drew on.

The title's construction is the whole poem in miniature. 'Qayamat' is the Day of Judgement — the largest catastrophe the Urdu lexicon holds — and it is applied not to betrayal but to the speaker's own persistence in loving a person already identified as bewafa, faithless. The disaster named is the speaker's own heart, not the beloved's conduct; the beloved's unreliability is stated as settled fact and moved past. Zia Sarhadi wrote the lyric. Unusually for a director, he was a practising film lyricist in his own right — credited with the words for Kokila (1937), Hum Tum Aur Woh (1938), Teen Sau Din Ke Baad (1938), Ladies Only (1939), Sajani (1940) and later Anokha Pyar (1948) — so on Yateem he was writing the songs of a picture he was himself directing. No lyrics are reproduced here.

Yateem (1945) was directed by Zia Sarhadi at Central Studios, Bombay, produced by C.L. Divan and photographed by Keki Mistry, with Yakub, Chandraprabha, Lalita Pawar, David Abraham, Bhudo Advani and the young Suraiya in the cast. No plot summary for the film survives in the accessible record; the title, Urdu for 'orphan', is the only clue to its subject. This is one of the three songs assigned to Datta Korgaonkar, alongside Shuru Hone Lagi Hai and Ummeed Mein Behti Hui Nadi Ke.

The bewafa-ghazal — the lover who knows and continues anyway — was one of the durable lyric templates Hindi cinema inherited from Urdu poetry and used across the following decades. Rajkumari's version here belongs to the period just before playback singing became a star system in its own right, when a singer of her standing could record a form-conscious ghazal for a film whose plot no longer survives.