Duo, in Disguise

OP Nayyar's music came stamped with his own, distinct class - the freshest brew of melody and rhythm, and probably the most innovative choice and use of instruments. Though the superficial listener might just associate him to the hoof-beats, the more ardent listener would smile contently whenever those Sarangi, Santoor, Sitar or even the Harmonium would cast a spell in those magical pre-ludes/interludes. And, discounting his occasional use of the other singers, there is no doubt about his choice of THE male voice for his songs. I guess Rafi Sahab not only sounded the freshest when singing for OPN, but also elicited an unmatched painful-romanticism (I do not know how else to describe the feeling in Aanchal mein sajaa lena kaliyan, Deewana Hua Baadal or Hai Duniya Usiki). In fact, one can go, and has gone, no ends to talk about these songs.

For this post, however, let us take one of those songs which do not carry that stamp. A song that - if you did not have prior knowledge of its details - would never make you think that Rafi Sahab is with OPN in the recording room. The duo in disguise, so to say.

Here goes this stunning disguised composition from the Balraj Sahni-Nutan starrer Sone Ki Chidiya.

Maut kabhi bhi mil sakti hai
Lekin jeevan kal na milega
Marnewale soch samajh le
Phir tujhko ye pal na milega

Raat bhar ka hai mehmaan andhera
Kiske roke ruka hai savera

Raat jitni hi sangiin hogi
Subah utni hi rangiin hogi
Gham na kar gar hai baadal ghanera
Kiske roke ruka hai savera

Lab pe shikwa na laa ashq pii le
Jis tarhe bhi ho kuchh der jee le
Ab ukhadne ko hai gham ka dera

Aa koi milke tadbeer soche
Sukh ke sapnon ki taabir soche
Jo tera hai wohi gham hai mera
Kiske roke ruka hai savera

The video of this song is available here, and it gets more pertinent if we have a look at the situation in the film.

A song of such profundity, had to be created and sung adequately as well. The moment Rafi Sahab's voice rings in the opening lines, the song attains a level that tells us that it can only become more thought-provoking from there. In the film, there is a duet version of this song with Asha Ji and a part of that song is added towards the end of this video.

It is worthwhile to notice the striking difference in Rafi Sahab's singing in the two versions, even if it is the same song. The duet version is sung during times of hope, while this solo version is at a time of abject despair. Even though it is the same philosophy, the duet version professes it while this version brings it to practice. This subtle difference is understood and executed (yes, one more time) by Rafi Sahab in his own inimitable way. The texture of the voice changes as the hope gets trapped in the quagmire of pathos. The prophecy, however, remains unchanged. For, giving up is - somehow - never an option. Words cannot completely express what the voice does. Hear it yourself, listen to the same line sung at 1:07 minutes and then again at 4:53 minutes. I call him the Sublime Sorcerer for countless tricks like this that only he could unleash, with that innocent smile undiminished.

Incorrigible

Here is a list of seven quick things I wish I could change, in me -

• Strike up a good conversation with someone I just met. (Also, spare the ones close to me of my incessant rants.)
  
  
• Go to bed at an earthly hour - for the rest of my life.
  
  
• Don't exactly wish to wake up early in the morning - alarms are there just for stopping. (Those who are learning, still snooze them.) At the minimum, I wish I could feel the need to answer the phone when the boss is on the line. (As an aside, the most authentic excuses come to mind in those few seconds of seeing the call, contemplation and silencing the call.)
  
  
• Pre-determine the last spoon, and stick to the decision, when I am sitting with my ice cream tub.
  
  
• Feel the need to put some people in their respective places, what if just mildly.
  
  
• Complete the construction of that half-built bridge connecting my wishes and action. (Reminds me of what I said once - "If wishes were horses, mine would be the biggest stable in this world.") This is a lot to ask for, given the circumstances. At least, I wish I don't set off in those treks anymore :D
  
  
• Spare some thoughts for things certified 'important' - for they are useful, no doubt.
  
  

Now that I have this list in writing, and have gone through it once as well, I do not think these are impossible to achieve. Nothing - they say - is impossible. I'm a seasoned planner and I have estimated that these seven things will definitely work out, maybe, in the seven forthcoming births.

Unsolved Mysteries

The mind of the poet is a minefield - of the creative kind. There are wannabe poets who want to write (if you browse through the archives of this blog, you would surely know one :D). And then, there are poets who came down straight from the endlessness of the sky, wrapped in gloss and tied with a red ribbon. I do not want to name any of them - the list will be unending even with my limited exposure. Each time I discover a new one in that class, I just feel too much contented and happy. For the fact that such people exist, whose minds sparkle with thoughts off the beaten track. We can never get into what goes on inside, but are still fortunate to marvel at what approximates on paper. You know such a person through simple lines put in such a way that eludes all sort of commonplace connections - for a poem is not just rhyming lines. Just imagining myself trying to write something depicting a similar emotion; and all I am left with is an amazement that has no answer, as to what can make a mind think like that.

A rambling post after a long hiatus - but I just had to write this short note after I heard Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan singing:

Teri ummeed tera intezar jab se hai
Na shab ko din se shikayat, na din ko shab se hai

Busy at work

"You still have a cool image," the words came and hit like thunder. After sitting still for a few moments, I typed in the customary 'hahahahhahaa' but it did not do justice to the way I was laughing. It was just like another day, and this friend and I were discussing how we (he after trying and I after not trying) could not raise our 'levels' in all these years and have stayed at the same state of worthlessless. It's great fun, laughing about your incompetencies and celebrating the hopelessness. But he changed it all today, adding this highly undesired line at a time when we were so much in the groove, citing one example of callousness after another.

"No, I am serious, you have some coolness about you."

"I have a word for it - unsmart." I love the rolling-on-the-floor smileys and used them in abundance, to catch up with my laughter.

"No, really, you are calm, composed and confident."

"Too good, carry on. I am liking it." Knowing he was not going to stop, I thought of egging him on for more. After all, if I tried to forget his intentions, it made for some good reading.

"You have something intense about you as well."

"Don't stop, go on..." At this point, my colleague came and peeped in. She smiled her way to her seat in sometime.

"I am in the mood today, so keep listening. Tomorrow, I won't tell you all this."

"Sure, you go ahead. I will tell good things about you once you are done." Then I reminded him of someone who met me for the first time, and vented her frustration by telling another friend that it is impossible to talk to me.

"But that was just the first time, because you are usually quiet. But you have a 'totality' about you." We usually use the word 'total' to represent the biggest goof-ups. He had to use some other word to even think he could make me take him seriously.

"Hahhahaahhahaa.. Now enough. I cannot take it anymore."

"Am I joking here?"

"Who wants to know? It's making me laugh my heart out. Thanks."

"No good telling you anything."

"No no, it felt good. But you also should know, you are our hero."

I knew there would not be an answer. If I laughed like mad, I was smiling broad now, to give him back a bigger dose of his own bitter medicine. Not bothering about the lack of answer, I went on with "Something like a dynamic idol", "the level we can only aspire to reach some day, knowing we cannot get there". I knew this cannot go on one-sided for long. So had to buzz him for his non-response. "You there?"

"I was serious. Am not liking this today."

How could I make him believe that even I was as serious as he was. And the conversation wavered to the familiar courses of making fun of friends, acquaintances, unknowns and, most importantly, ourselves.

Having said all that, the chats that I have with him makes me feel light at work. Here is a snapshot of how it goes most of the times.

Of stirred souls and soothed minds

It does not usually happen – consecutive posts on the same topic. But it’s been sometime and I did not write anything here. Then, this Saturday, I went for the Rahat Fateh Ali Khan concert in New York. Not writing about the experience would be like Neil Armstrong coming back to earth, shrugging at the people around him and getting back to work. Here is an approximate account of one of the most surreal musical experiences I have had.

If you have read the previous post, you know how much I love this singer – his voice, his absolute command over his skills, his humility and genuineness. I waited in anticipation till he smiled his way to his harmonium, acknowledging the rampant cheer in the auditorium. Not even a minute to settle down and announce that he would be starting off with a famous qawwali of his Ustad. He never, not even once during the three hours he was on the stage, mentioned of his Uncle, just Ustad-e-Mohtaram Khan Sahab. By the time he finished the heavenly rendition of Allah Hu, he left no doubt on what was to come. The time just passed in his impeccable singing, incredible voice, amazing coordination with his troupe and, of course, the divine intervention. It’s nothing but the divinity that separates singers like Rahat from others. What he sang for three hours over small sips of water and a five-minute break was something out of this world. It does not come with training alone.

He sang qawwalis, Punjabi geets and all his popular songs from Bollywood movies. The qawwalis included Allah Hu, Tumhein Dillagi Bhool Jaani Padegi, Maikhana, Halka Halka Suroor, Afreen, Mast Qalander, Tum Ek Gorakh-Dhanda Ho and Koi Jaane koi na jaane. The Punjabi geets included Mera Piya Ghar Aaya, Ni Main Jaana Jogi De Naal, Aankhiyan Udeek Diya, Kisay Da Yaar Na Vichde. He sang all his famous Bollywood numbers – wrapping them effortlessly with his style and presenting something new from what he hear in the records. I particularly liked Main Jahaan Rahoon (for the way he sings the first two lines and effect of the chorus for the Kehne ko sath apne part), Naina (what a song and what singing!) and Bolna Halke Halke (you have to be me to feel what I feel in this one). Ore Piya, Jag sunaa sunaa laage and Mann ki Lagan (just loved the way he ended the song in this live version) were superlative to say the least. He embellished the numbers with some incredible taans and aalaaps. His fingers glided over his harmonium with so much ease that the complex notes seemed to be coming from somewhere else. And each time he took his hands off the harmonium and set off on those sargams, a bigger treat was for the taking. The hands measuring out the notes, the head swaying sideways, the eyes closing as the scales went higher and the hint of a smile as if to acknowledge the perfection of the output – this is the picture of the concert that has stayed on. Another thing was when he missed the words for a brief moment, remembered it soon enough as to not lose the line and then went on to sing the next lines in the now deliberately off-beat manner that turned out to be more beautiful than what he intended to sing. Who thought this brilliant piece of improvisation stemmed out from a mistake?

He was happy with the crowd – that swayed and raved and appreciated the maestro in action. Request-chits came flowing in; people came to the dais to get a close up shot or record a clip or just to dance. All songs ended with a rapturous applause and he started off with the next one as people still clapped. The atmosphere was full of life and one could ignore the pretty lady in pink who came up and posed with her elbow on the stage as her partner clicked on, concentrating hard to get that perfect background. But can you possibly ignore the ingenuity of the person who thought of making I love you I love you I love you from Allah Hu Allah Hu Allah Hu.

I kept the title of my earlier post on Rahat as ‘Rising Sun’ – the successor to the institution called Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan who had just started making his mark. When I went for his concert, I had to tilt my head up much more I do to see a rising sun. The sun has already risen and is at its brightest best.

Rising Sun

Music can be relieving. We all know this, but there are some times when we realise this and believe in this more than ever. There is one kind of music that soothes you as it plays. You relax, it relaxes. End of worries. There is this other kind. It does not play along. You are made to plunge in and swim. The tune, words and arrangement become the temperature, depth and current of the water. One way to add more to the experience is to consider the singing. Try listening to the effort put in by the singer, either directed or through improvisations, and the appreciation could increase considerably. This is true for music across all the ages. It is rarer, but definitely not absent, in modern music.

We started with relief. And there is relief indeed, literally, when you listen to the synonymous singer - Rahat Fateh Ali Khan. A present day heir to one of the richest musical families, he has not buckled under the pressure of responsibility. He has, in fact, added some more to it - seamlessly adding his flair to light singing in modern film songs. The compact training and base stands guard, the softness plays in front. You can just watch the duel in amazement. Putting his songs on play does a lot of good to me at times when things are not what I want them to be. It also proves to me that art and artists can never fade from this world, it is only the trends that decide what we get everywhere. Here's saluting a real treasure of our times with traits that I look for in my favourite artists - humility, softness, devotion. And they can sing live and create the same magic without the technology blanket of the recording studio. And my favourite artists smile as they sing.

Attaching two live snippets from two of my favourites from him. Sheer magic - takes time to believe someone can sing like this.

Mann ki lagan



Naina

Glorified Tears

You need not be tearful when talking about tears. Poetry - the traditional and old-fashioned type is what I like - has this uncanny ability to turn the most depressing emotions sweet. This song from Naya Kanoon is one such example; it keeps talking about the tears without a mention of the crying. Hasrat Jaipuri shows us why lyricists of the golden era were poets as well. Madan Mohan keeps his musicians off this track to give the total attention to the lyrics. They had to resort to - no surprises here - Rafi Sahab to deliver the goods.

Here goes the words -

Unhe qissa-e-gham jo likhne ko baithe

To dekhe kalam ki rawaani mein aansoon

Ye anmol taare, ye ulfat ke moti

Unhe humne bheje nishaani mein aansoon...

Unhe hum kahaani sunane na paye

Unhe daag dil ke dikhane na paye

Ye aansoon hamare bade kaam aaye

Zubaan ban gaye be-zubaani mein aansoon...

Na samjho ke aansoon hai gham ki kahaani

Ye aansoon hai ulfat ki pehli nishaani

Muqaddar ke qaatib ka kitna karam hai 

Ke likkhe hai meri kahaani mein aansoon...

Zamane mein taqdeer sab ki judaa hai

Tujhe kuchh mila hai, mujhe kuchh mila hai

Udhar hai teri zindagi mein khushiyan

Idhar hai meri zindagi mein aansoon...

Unhein qissa-e-gham jo likhne ko baithe

To dekhe kalam ki rawaani mein aansoon.

Still marvelling at - zubaan ban gaye be-zubaani mein aansoon!