World's unluckiest song, over 100 people died listening to it, was banned for 62 years, song is...
This song is such that people used to commit suicide after listening to it. According to the House Stuff Work website, the song Gloomy Sunday is the most ominous song in the world. This song was written by Rezso Seress and Laszlo together. Written in 1933, this song was released in 1935 and in the same year, a person committed suicide after listening to it.
This person mentioned this song in his suicide note. At the same time, it is said that the fiancée of the composer of this song also committed suicide by consuming poison. In 1968, the writer of this song, Rezso, also committed suicide. Two people shot themselves and a woman committed suicide by jumping into the water after listening to the song. After all this, this song was banned. What is in the song?
When this song was analyzed, it was found to be a Hungarian song. At the time when this song was released, most of the people in Hungary were suffering from stress. People were facing a financial crisis and were also being laid off from their companies. In such a situation, the lyrics and picturisation of this song started relating to their life, and this made them feel even more sad. This song talks about humanity, the hustle and bustle of life, the everyday sorrows, and death involved in it.
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India.com
4 days ago
- India.com
World's most cursed song, linked to over 100 deaths, banned for 62 years, singer died due to..., name is...
Music often reflects emotions—joy, love, heartbreak—but in 1933, Hungarian composer Rezso Seress wrote a song so sorrowful, it was said to drive listeners to their deaths. The piece, titled Gloomy Sunday, was born from Seress's own heartbreak after his girlfriend left him. The lyrics were drenched in despair, painting life as unbearable and death as the only comfort. The song's grief-stricken tone and crushing sadness soon gave it a chilling reputation. Stories began circulating that those who listened to it felt an overwhelming urge to end their lives. How many lives did this song allegedly claim? Initially, record companies refused to release it. But in 1935, Gloomy Sunday finally reached the public. Almost immediately, Hungary saw a disturbing rise in suicides. Reports told of the song being found on repeat near victims, or mentioned in their farewell letters. First, around 17 deaths were linked to it. Soon, the figure climbed close to 100. By 1941, the government decided the song was too dangerous and banned it outright. Did the ban change anything? The ban lasted for 62 years and was finally lifted in 2003. But by then, the song's legacy had already been written in tragedy. Even Seress's former lover was said to have taken her life after hearing it. In a haunting twist, Rezso Seress himself died on a Sunday—the very day immortalised in his composition. In January 1968, he jumped from a window in Budapest. Surviving the fall, he later ended his life in a hospital by strangling himself with a wire. A song that outlived its creator Despite its dark past, Gloomy Sunday continued to fascinate artists. More than 100 singers recorded it in 28 languages. The most famous version came from Billie Holiday, whose English rendition was also banned for years. In 1999, the tale of the song inspired the film Gloomy Sunday, released in Hungary and Germany, cementing its place as one of music history's most unsettling legends.
Mint
4 days ago
- Mint
Sunil Shanbag's play ‘The Horse' blends satire and comedy
Over 20 actors—all on stage together at times—are in sync relaying the chaos that comes with a wild albeit deeply political satire. Music interludes elevate the crowd scenes or craft moments of intimacy and idiocy around a horse. The horse is called Incitatus and has Rome—and specifically its notorious emperor Caligula (Akash Khurana)—in a tizzy. After all, no one's ever seen an animal so magnificent. The last in Aadyam Theatre's Season 7 is a play by veteran director Sunil Shanbag featuring horse heads and halters too. Shanbag first read Hungarian playwright Julius Hay's The Horse in the 1980s. It was one of three in a collection of Eastern European plays published by Penguin. The other two were by noted Czech writers Vaclav Havel and Christy Rozek. 'It was a time when there was a fair interest in Eastern European plays. Satyadev Dubey had already done Rozek. Anmol Vellani had done Vaclav Havel. Marathi playwright Vrindavan Dandavate had travelled to Eastern Europe. Mahesh Elkunchwar had spent time in Eastern Europe," recalls Shanbag. He remembers being 'delighted" when he read it, but was aware that it wasn't possible to mount a production of such scale at the time. The play stayed with him and cropped up during workshops and readings at the National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA). 'On further reading, I found out that Hay was a contemporary of Bertolt Brecht. While both were interested in the theatre of ideas, they had differing opinions about the nature of theatre," he says. When the time came to do a play for Aadyam, Shanbag recalled The Horse for its inherent scale and satire. Then came the task of acquiring a copy of the play and requesting permission from Peter Hay, the son of the author and the translator of The Horse. The play begins with a scene at the tavern—a young man, Selanus (Neil Bhoopalam), on his first day in Rome; emperor Caligula in disguise; and a coterie are playing a game of dice. Selanus has lost it all with nothing left to wager but his horse, the mighty Incitatus. Caligula is so taken by the animal that he will go to great lengths to acquire it. With erratic ideas and a God complex, Caligula passes decree after decree, including one to erase every other decree. Another such is the appointment of Incitatus as the Consul of Rome. And the revered Consul must eventually find a suitable bride. There's a love story somewhere in this mix. There's also a donkey and a man pretending to be a horse. The satirical play is large and loud. Shanbag didn't set out to do a comedy but believes it can make complex ideas accessible to an audience. 'Comedy is perhaps the most difficult form of theatre. It must come with comic skills, comic timing and a sense of fun and joy. This play has an additional challenge of an underlayer of satire," he says, adding that it's been a fascinating journey for him and the cast. 'We don't get to do comedy often. It's not looked upon as serious enough," he says. The play—first staged in 1965—is over half a century old but Shanbag believes that satire with a certain depth of ideas resonates with the contemporary regardless of when it was written. 'Besides, history has patterns," he says. 'There are some common themes—the seduction of a population with an idea, the abandonment of rationality and blind faith—that are all relevant today," he adds. As for scale, Shanbag finds it both daunting and thrilling. Daunting for the planning (eight months) and the organisation that it takes to bring a 20-member cast together in a rehearsal room, and thrilling for the ability to perform to an 800-member audience. 'I don't think we get enough opportunities to do that. It's lovely to perform in intimate spaces but the thrill of 800 people watching and laughing is quite something. I believe that with our kind of theatre, we should not surrender or abandon mainstream spaces. We should seize every opportunity to occupy them," he says. The scale also allows him to bring in skilled collaborators like Kaizad Gherda for music, and Shampa Gopikrishna and Bertwin D'Souza for choreography. This, in addition to a vibrant cast which includes senior actor and co-founder of Shanbag's Arpana Theatre Akash Khurana. The two have reunited for a production after three decades, and Khurana portrays the maniacal Caligula with rare charm. While Shanbag's preoccupation with the theatre of ideas has always been evident (his last production was Utpal Dutt's Barricade), he believes comedy is as valid as any other form. He hopes the audience takes a moment to reflect amid laughter. 'That's what theatre can do—hold a mirror and help you reflect a little. In this case, it is through laughter and the absurdity of the situation. All comedy relies on the ability of people to laugh at themselves," he says. 'I want people to have an entertaining and stimulating evening. For me, that's the perfect definition of an evening at the theatre." On 9 August, 7.30pm, and 10 August, 4pm and 7.30pm at Bal Gandharva Rang Mandir, Mumbai. On 6-7 September at Kamani Auditorium, New Delhi Prachi Sibal is a Mumbai-based culture writer.
India Today
06-08-2025
- India Today
What pulls theatre director Sunil Shanbag to satire?
(NOTE: This article was originally published in the India Today issue dated August 11, 2025)In a tiny, sparse studio in Versova with no props and sets, theatre director Sunil Shanbag is busy imagining first-century Rome. There's some neighing and galloping, a bit of singing, and excitable parents who want to marry their daughter off to a horse. Shanbag watches, giving directions to actors like Akash Khurana and Neil Bhoopalam on entry and exits, bringing to life Hungarian playwright Julius Hay's The a play that has stayed with him since he first read it in 1982. When Aadyam, an initiative of the Aditya Birla Group, approached him to develop a play for its seventh season, Shanbag found himself returning to the political satire which, as per the synopsis, offers an 'unsettling look at ambition, delusion, herd mentality, and the absurd circus of power'. 'One had to look for a play that allows scale and still lets you explore ideas,' says Shanbag. Only, he had misplaced the book amidst many house moves. Little did Shanbag know that finding the text and acquiring its rights would be an adventure in itself, taking him on a virtual journey from a bookstore in Spain to Oxford to Los Angeles, and finally culminating at a second-hand bookshop in a small town in British Columbia, Canada. It's here he'd get a lead to Hay's son, Peter, who had translated the play into English and from whom he'd finally obtain the rights. 'He was happy that we had made this effort,' says Shanbag. PULL OF SATIRE: Julius Hay's The Horse looks at the 'absurd circus of power' Transporting audiences to significant events and different periods and compelling them to think is what Shanbag himself has been doing for nearly five decades now with his company, Arpana. Plays like Sex, Morality & Censorship, Cotton 56, Polyester 84 and Stories in Song are among the works that have added to the 68-year-old's aura. Shanbag stands out as someone who has used his clout to help others in an industry where survival is a daily struggle. He set up Tamaasha Theatre a decade back to address an urgent need. Says Shanbag, 'I felt that, as Arpana's scale grew, spontaneity and impulsive exploration were becoming difficult. I was also uncomfortable with not having a relationship with the audience. The idea was to build a system where a connection could be built.' Producing plays under the banner of Tamaasha has allowed Shanbag to do that with works like Same, Same, but Different, which while low on scale, are heavy on ideas. With Studio Tamaasha, an alternative space in Mumbai, he has given a platform to theatre practitioners to showcase their work. 'It's a lot easier for someone like me to make a play; we have built a corpus and have a standing. But it's hard for a young theatre practitioner even today to make a play,' says Shanbag. 'Those who have a body of work need to step up and create support systems for young theatre creators.' In addition, for the past two years, Shanbag has headed Us Paar, a residency for creators in Kashid, Maharashtra, which has given a refuge to many theatre groups, and now even artists, to create new works. Amidst it all, Shanbag remains prolific. His 2024 work Barricade, set in Nazi Germany yet eerily relevant today, continues to have shows. Still, he admits being seized by 'more and more self-doubt. There's an inner turmoil of anyone who creates stuff. I don't think I have adapted. It's a crisis I will have to confront very soon.' It's perhaps this insecurity that compels him to create, to carry on, to get out of the bubble. With The Horse, he gets to do exactly that. 'It's important to occupy the mainstream space,' he says. Only, in Shanbag's case, the mainstream isn't just playing to the gallery, but intellectually engaging to India Today Magazine- Ends
