One of the defining signatures of the Dhurandhar universe — established in the first film and elevated significantly in the sequel — is how director Aditya Dhar uses music as a narrative layer, not just a mood setter. In Dhurandhar 2: The Revenge, the soundtrack functions almost like a second screenplay. Classic songs are repurposed. Folk anthems score massacres. A ’90s romance becomes a battle cry. A Bollywood disco track plays over a death. None of it is accidental. Toh chalo, ek ek gaana kholte hain.
Music composer Shashwat Sachdev operates in two modes across this album: reimagining beloved classics with modern production, and crafting originals that carry enough narrative weight to do the work dialogue cannot. Both approaches pay off. Here’s a scene-by-scene breakdown of every song — what it is, where it comes from, and exactly what Dhar is doing with it.
Part 1: The Old Made New — Classic Songs Reimagined
These are the songs with pre-existing originals — Bollywood, Punjabi folk, international — that Dhar repurposes entirely for new dramatic contexts.
01 · Classic Reimagined
Jaan Se Guzarte Hain
Original: Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan | Reimagined by: Shashwat Sachdev & Khan Saab
Scene 1 — The Train Ride
Jaskirat (Ranveer Singh) boards a train carrying the full weight of his family’s suffering. Instead of a tense, suspenseful score, Dhar places this reimagined qawwali over the moment. The journey isn’t just physical — it’s Jaskirat crossing an inner threshold, leaving behind who he was, stepping into something darker and more determined. The electronic beats aren’t noise; they’re urgency. The timelessness of grief meeting the velocity of revenge in Dhurandhar 2.
Scene 2 — Hamza & Jameel’s Farewell
The song’s second half resurfaces later in the film when Jameel Jamali — now revealed as an Indian spy — bids farewell to Hamza/Jaskirat after the mission is complete in Dhurandhar 2. Two men bound by secrecy and sacrifice, forced to walk separate paths. The lyrics about strangers passing close — “Jab woh ajnabi bankar paas se guzarate hain” — become a quiet portrait of closeness that can never be named.
“Dil pe zakhm khate hain, jaan se guzarate hain” — we suffer wounds on the heart, we pass through life itself.
The Bigger Picture: Dhar uses the same song twice and achieves completely different emotional registers — first transformation, then loss. That’s the sign of a filmmaker who genuinely understands what music can do when it’s treated as storytelling, not decoration.
02 · Classic Reimagined
Putt Jattan De Maare Lalkare
Original: Surinder Shinda | Genre: Traditional Punjabi folk
Scene — The MLA’s Massacre
The makers drop this folk bravado anthem right at the opening of the massacre in MLA Sukhwinder Singh’s room. A song built to celebrate fearless sons blares inside a chamber of corrupt power — seconds before Jaskirat tears it apart. The irony is razor-sharp: old-world feudalism narrated by its own anthem, seconds before new-age vengeance dismantles it.
The edit that follows — this folk track giving way to Aari Aari once the violence begins — is one of the most cinematically satisfying music transitions in recent Bollywood. Two eras of Punjab colliding in a single cut.
03 · Classic Reimagined (Title Track)
Aari Aari
Original: Bari Barsi — centuries-old Punjabi folk tune, popularised by Bombay Rockers (2003) | Reimagined by: Shashwat Sachdev, Jasmine Sandlas, Khan Saab, Reble, Token, Sudhir Yaduvanshi
Scene — Jaskirat’s Killing Spree
As Jaskirat goes on a violent spree to save his sister, “Aari Aari” plays over the carnage. The dissonance is entirely intentional: you’re hearing a track usually associated with dance floors and celebration, while brutal violence unfolds on screen. For Jaskirat, this is not pure rage — it’s cathartic liberation.
His Punjabi folk roots are encoded into the melody scoring his violence, making the act feel personal rather than generic. Dhar flips a celebratory number into a ritual of protection, suggesting Jaskirat sees his actions not as crime but as righteousness. The music tells you exactly that — so you feel it, even if you shouldn’t.
04 · Classic Reimagined
Hum Pyaar Karne Waale
Original: Film Dil (1990) — Udit Narayan & Anuradha Paudwal | Reimagined with: EDM production & English rap by Qveen Herby
Scene — Jaskirat Kidnapped from the Police Van
Fast-forward to 2026. Jaskirat is being violently dragged from a police van by faceless operatives. And over this chaotic, brutal moment? The same hook — “Hum pyar karne wale, duniya se na darne wale” — now drenched in EDM bass and English rap. “Ride or die, ready for the fight.” What was once a dreamy love declaration is now a battle cry.
This is Dhar at his most playful and subversive. The lyrics haven’t changed, but their context strips them of romance and reloads them with defiance. A masterclass in how the same words mean entirely different things depending on what you place alongside them.
05 · Classic Reimagined
Bekasi (Kabhi Bekasi Ne Mara)
Original: Film Alag Alag (1985) — Kishore Kumar | Music: R.D. Burman | Lyrics: Anand Bakshi
Scene — Hamza Unfolds His Past to Aalam
In a humble tea shop, Hamza (Ranveer Singh) sits across Aalam (Gaurav Gera) and begins to slowly open up about his history. As he speaks, Kishore Kumar’s 1985 classic quietly slips into the background. The ordinary tea shop is elevated into a confessional space — where pain feels timeless.
By scoring this moment with a song rooted in helplessness and fatalism, Dhar tells us that Hamza’s wounds aren’t fresh wounds. They are decades old, sedimented into his bones. The song reframes his past not as backstory but as a defining, unhealed wound that drives every choice he makes.
06 · Classic Reimagined
Baazigar O Baazigar
Original: Film Baazigar (1993) | Lyrics: Nawab Arzoo
Scene — Hamza Kills Gurbaaz
After being forced to kill his childhood friend Gurbaaz in a washroom during a drug-fueled altercation — because Gurbaaz recognised his true identity — Hamza emerges to find a band of street musicians playing “Baazigar O Baazigar.” He joins in. He sings with them.
“O mera dil tha akela, tune khel aisa khela… Baazigar o Baazigar.”
This is one of the most chillingly intertextual moments in recent Bollywood. In Baazigar, SRK’s character also kills those who uncover his identity while running a revenge mission for family justice. By having Hamza sing this song immediately after doing precisely that, Dhar draws an explicit parallel. Hamza is a modern-day Baazigar — a man whose vengeance demands both blood and secrecy. The self-awareness is not accidental. It’s the film winking at its own darkness.
07 · Classic Reimagined
Tamma Tamma
Original: Film Thanedaar (1990) — Bappi Lahiri | Starring: Sanjay Dutt, Madhuri Dixit
Scene — SP Choudhary’s Assassination & Funeral
When SP Choudhary (Sanjay Dutt) is killed, the film scores his death with the very song that once captured everything Dutt represented as a screen presence. The funeral extends the irony further — the officer who betrayed Choudhary and caused his death shows up, solemnly salutes the coffin, and places a flower on it.
Dhar weaponises nostalgia here — not to comfort, but to destabilise. The joyous beat becomes grotesque against the visuals of destruction. The audience’s affection for the original song is turned against them. You’re supposed to feel the wrongness of watching Sanjay Dutt die to a Sanjay Dutt song. That discomfort is precisely the point.
08 · Classic Reimagined
Rang De Lal (Oye Oye)
Original: “Oye Oye / Tirchi Topi Wale” — Film Tridev (1989) — Udit Narayan, Amit Kumar, Jolly Mukherjee | Reimagined by: Jasmine Sandlas, Afsana Khan
Scene — Jameel Reveals He Already Poisoned Dawood
On the flight back to India, Hamza admits his only regret: never being able to kill Dawood. That’s when Jameel drops the bombshell — years ago, he quietly poisoned Dawood using dimethyl mercury, slipping it in with a bandaged thumb. The don is already condemned to a slow death. Hamza’s unfinished business was finished before he knew it existed. This revelation plays out in a stylish montage set to the pulsating reimagined version of “Oye Oye.”
The original was swagger for swagger’s sake. The new version redirects that same energy into something darker — Dawood’s supposed invincibility mocked to a disco beat. Jo hona tha, ho gaya. And it happened to a banger.
09 · International Classic
Rasputin
Original: Boney M (1978) | Genre: Disco / Euro-pop
Scene — Lt General Shamshad’s Downfall
IB chief Ajay Sanyal (R. Madhavan) calls demanding Hamza’s release. Lt General Shamshad Hassan (Raj Zutshi) tries to flex authority, playing the powerful hand. Then Sanyal drops a video exposing Shamshad’s own betrayal — secretly leaking Pakistani intelligence to Israel. At that exact moment, Boney M’s “Rasputin” kicks in.
Yeh choice genuinely brilliant hai. A song literally about a powerful figure undone by secrets he couldn’t keep, playing at the precise moment a powerful figure is undone by secrets he couldn’t keep. The disco beat turns his humiliation into dark comedy. Shamshad’s fall isn’t just dramatic — it’s mockable. Rasputin would understand.
Part 2: Original Compositions — Built for the Film
These songs were written specifically for Dhurandhar 2, each designed to carry a specific emotional and narrative function within the story.
10 · Original Composition
Vaari Jaavan
Singers: Jasmine Sandlas, Jyoti Nooran, Reble | Music: Shashwat Sachdev
Scene — Hamza as Karachi ka Badshah
“Ni main vaari jaavan mera sohna ae yaar” — on the surface, this is a devotional track, a song of self-sacrifice for a beloved. But it plays as Hamza showers crowds with cash, campaigns with swagger, and shakes hands with the BUF leader consolidating power.
Dhar performs a tonal flip: the lyrics about surrendering one’s heart and crown are recontextualised as surrender to power, not love. Hamza isn’t giving himself to a person. He’s giving himself to a mission — and perhaps, worryingly, becoming it. The devotional framing adds unease where there should be romance.
11 · Original (International Reimagining)
Didi (Sher-E-Baloch)
Original: “Didi” by Khaled, Algeria (1992) — Arabic Raï music | Reimagined by: Shashwat Sachdev, Kings Of Yusuf, Nabil El Houri
Scene — Hamza’s Coronation as Sher-e-Baloch
The BUF leader crowns Hamza as Sher-e-Baloch — a full-blown coronation sequence — and Dhar scores it with a specially recreated version of Khaled’s legendary 1992 Arabic Raï anthem. Much like FA9LA was Akshaye Khanna’s myth-making moment in Dhurandhar 1, this is Hamza’s. A spy being celebrated as a king of the very land he was sent to infiltrate.
The choice of a North African Raï song — a genre built around joy, rebellion, and street culture — for a Balochistan coronation is cross-cultural storytelling that feels earned. The lyrics frame Hamza as both feared and revered. The spy is now a legend. At least, in their eyes.
12 · Original Composition
Jaiye Sajna
Singers: Jasmine Sandlas & Satinder Sartaaj | Music: Shashwat Sachdev
Scene — Rehman Dakait’s Funeral
Hamza stands among the mourners at Rehman Dakait’s funeral, silent, carrying a truth only the audience knows — he is the man who killed Dakait. The widow’s grief erupts when she slaps Hamza.
“Aisi preet la layi rabba, jaisi hor kade hoyi na” — such love was forged, never seen before.
Two realities exist in this scene simultaneously — the widow’s absolute devotion, and Hamza’s hidden guilt. The song is a hymn of fidelity for her, and an unspoken accusation for him. Neither knows the full picture. The music holds both truths at once, which is exactly what great film scoring achieves.
13 · Original Composition
Tere Ishq Ne
Singer: Jyoti Nooran | Genre: Sufi-rock | Music: Shashwat Sachdev
Scene — SP Choudhary Goes Gun-Blazing
Lyari is burning as Uzair’s war against Arshad Pappu intensifies. SP Choudhary is in the thick of it. A stray bullet shatters his tea cup — a small symbol of order and routine, now destroyed. That moment cracks something in him. He unleashes. The Sufi-rock “Tere Ishq Ne” plays over his rampage.
The track speaks of love that wounds and consumes. But here, “ishq” is not romantic — it’s his destructive passion for order, for justice, for his role as a cop. The broken tea cup isn’t just a prop; it’s the last straw. The song understands that fury and devotion can look exactly the same from the outside.
14 · Original (Sufi Kalam)
Kanhaiyya
Singer: Jubin Nautiyal | Based on: Sufi kalam by Nawab Sadiq Jung Bahadur ‘Hilm’ | Music: Shashwat Sachdev
Scene — Hamza Orders Tea for Two
After being forced to kill his ally Aalam — whose cover was blown — a shaken Hamza returns to their usual tea shop and orders two cups of salted tea. One for himself. One for a man who is no longer alive. “Kanhaiyya Yaad Hai Kuchh Bhi Hamara” plays in the background — a Sufi kalam soaked in Radha-Krishna imagery, built around divine longing and the ache of separation.
The second cup of tea says everything the film doesn’t need to say out loud. The kalam’s spiritual yearning — Radha’s longing for Krishna — maps onto Hamza’s grief. The tea shop, once a place of quiet camaraderie, becomes a shrine of absence. The second cup, a ritual of remembrance. Yeh scene bahut quietly toot deta hai.
15 · Original Composition
Main Aur Tu
Singers: Jasmine Sandlas, Reble | Music: Shashwat Sachdev
Scene — The “Unknown Men” Assassination Montage
The chapter titled “Unknown Men” shows Hamza’s targets — Abdul Rehman Makki, Syed Khalid Raza, Amarjit Singh, Muhammad Riyaz — being eliminated one by one by faceless operatives. Swift. Clinical. Each name is a line crossed off a list.
“Jaan-e-mann, tu hai noor-e-nazar meri, dil mera tujhpe fida…”
Lyrics drenched in intimacy and togetherness, playing over cold, clinical deaths. “Main aur tu” — me and you — becomes a twisted love letter. The “you” here isn’t a person. It’s the mission. It’s vengeance itself. Hamza’s deepest relationship isn’t with any human — it’s with his list. The song, without changing a single word, tells you that.
16 · Original Composition
Aakhri Ishq
Singer: Jubin Nautiyal | Lyrics: Irshad Kamil | Music: Shashwat Sachdev
Scene — Hamza’s Final Call to Yalina
A wounded Hamza, after killing Major Iqbal, makes his last phone call to his wife Yalina (Sara Arjun). For the first time, he reveals his real name. Both of them understand it’s the end — they will never meet again. Yalina breaks down. “Aakhri Ishq” plays over this farewell.
“Main na raha, to kya hua, tere paas hai ishq mera…”
Until this moment, Hamza has been defined by violence and mission. The song completely reframes him — as a man of love, vulnerability, and sacrifice. The flute interlude doesn’t just add softness; it mourns. By revealing his real name, Hamza gives Yalina the one thing he withheld all along: honesty. This is their last conversation, their last truth, their only real moment together. Irshad Kamil’s lyrics carry enormous weight — his love survives even when he cannot.
17 · Original (Nusrat-influenced)
Destiny — Mann Atkeya
Singers: Vaibhav Gupta, Shahzad Ali, Token, Shashwat Sachdev | Borrows from: Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s Man Atkeya Beparwah De Nal
Scene — Mid-Credits RAW Training Montage
The mid-credits sequence shows Jaskirat’s RAW training — brutal drills, endless preparation, the systematic making of a weapon out of a man. “Mann Atkeya — Destiny” plays as his inner voice, asking: Who am I supposed to be? The rap verses answer: this. All of it. Every bruise was preparation.
By borrowing from Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s qawwali, the track elevates Jaskirat’s personal struggle into something divinely fated. His destiny is both his burden and his crown. Every sacrifice was not random suffering — it was part of a larger design. The song makes you believe that.
18 · Original Composition (Closing Song)
Phir Se
Singer: Arijit Singh | Lyrics: Irshad Kamil | Music: Shashwat Sachdev
Scene — Jaskirat Returns to Pathankot
After slipping away from authorities, Jaskirat arrives in Pathankot wearing a turban. He pauses at the doorway of his family’s home. His mother, sister, nephews — safe, settled, living a life without him. He watches. Eyes full of tears. He does not step forward. He turns back.
“Jo tu na tha, karte the hum baatein teri yaadon se… Phir se naina bhare, samjhe the hum gham hai khatam, dil hi na maane.”
Arijit Singh’s voice carries every gram of what this moment weighs. The pauses in the music reflect Jaskirat’s hesitation at the doorway — as if the melody itself is asking: step in, or step back? He chooses duty. But “Phir Se” doesn’t let that choice feel easy or heroic. It feels like a wound that will never fully close. His family doesn’t know he was there. He knows he was. That’s enough. And it’s not enough. Both at once. That’s what great endings feel like.
The Soundtrack as a Second Screenplay
Aditya Dhar’s use of music in Dhurandhar 2 is not incidental — it is architectural. Every song placement is an argument about identity, sacrifice, power, and love. Old songs are stripped of their original contexts and reloaded with new meaning. Original compositions are written to carry narrative weight that dialogue alone cannot hold.
The result is a film where the music doesn’t merely accompany the story — it tells it in parallel. Whether it’s Nusrat’s qawwali scoring a man losing himself on a train, a 1990 Sanjay Dutt dance number playing over his character’s coffin, or Boney M mocking a general’s downfall with disco irony — every choice is intentional, layered, and earned.
Shashwat Sachdev’s work here — balancing classic reimaginings with purpose-built originals — gives Dhurandhar 2 a soundtrack that functions as well in isolation as it does inside the film. And that, ultimately, is the difference between a great film (Dhurandhar 2) score and mere background music.
Which song from Dhurandhar 2 hit you the hardest? Drop your thoughts in the comments below.
