Rahat ki Raat

Miracles happen, even today. A few of the miracle-men are still around us. Just when you lament the absence of the past in the present, the miracle man carries its legacy and runs past you. Into the future. He is sent to help time keep its promise to the future. He is sent to ensure that the past, through the ages, remains glorious. I know of one - his faculties are unassuming yet legendary; his persona transparent yet unsolved. His trivialities are enigmatic, his lucidity inexplicable.

When he sings, you cannot but believe that it's humanly impossible to sing like that. And if you happen to see him right afterwards, you find him impossibly human. I was fortunate enough to have this second perspective of Ustad Rahat Fateh Ali Khan this weekend.



Having already performed in two sold-out concerts in the area at the beginning of his US-Canada tour, the organizers had to fit in another one on the eve of his departure to appease the unrelenting callers requesting for another show in New York. This was a sold out event as well, and had many repeat attendees. As he always does, the Ustad thrilled with his electrifying singing of traditional and popular fare. Starting with two magical kalaam of Hazrat Amir Khusroo - Mann Kunto Maula and Chhap Tilak Sab Chhini - he re-iterated the spirit of borderless spirituality sometime later when he said he feels happy whenever there is an Indo-Pak collaboration. 'This is how we should live, as brothers,' he said and waited for the audience to stop cheering before he could start on with his next song.

"Harmonium aur mera voice mein thoda aur volume dijiye," he said once. I had a feeling it was going to be Aaj Din Chadheya and indeed it was. If one didn't hear him sing that song the way he did that night, one would never get an idea as to what it really was. When he said, 'Jeeti rahe Sultanat teri, jeeti rahe aashiqui meri,' there was no doubt as to what love he was talking about. You could feel the same when he started off with O Re Piya. The context in the film, the words, the message - all of these get blurred when he sings live. You just realize the trance creep into you and feel thankful of the experience. He was unbelievably outstanding in Halka Halka Suroor, Chhap Tilak and Aankhiyan Udeek Diya - among the traditional songs.

I managed to somehow go backstage during the interval, about two hours into the show. He was talking to a friend and smiled and nodded towards me before I could say anything. It is eerie, as to how almost all his songs have at least a couple of lines in them that I identify with my own feelings and thoughts. It is uncanny how I feel he sings my mind at those places but in front of him, I could barely tell him a fraction of all I wanted to say. A few incoherent sentences later, I asked him if he could sign his photo for me and I didn't mean to disturb him. 'Haq hai aap ka,' he said, before noting that the photo was from 1998. He smiled when I told him he had performed with Eddie Vedder in the same year. I also told him I love going back to the video where he privately sings Gham Hai Ya Khushi Hai Tu - in 1994. He put an arm on my shoulder and said, 'Bahot shukriya aap ka, aap itna pyaar se sunte ho.' And this is how the conversation went for the next ten minutes, and then I got my coveted photo with him.

"It's that you for real in Facebook", I asked. "No," he said. I said I felt as much, because there was no updates or any replies to my messages. "Is he doing anything bogus,' he asked back. I said no. It was time to resume the show and I requested him to sing Mann Bawra Tujhe Dhoondta. 'Bahot achha gaana hai, zaroor sunayenge,' he smiled at me, and added - 'Aap thoda stage ke saamne aa jaana main bhool gaya to.'

I must confess here that, after the intermission I could not listen to him as attentively as I do. I was still trying to believe I really met him and talked to him. His genuine humility made it feel all the more serene, and I could not keep my mind off those ten minutes with him. I forgot to draw his attention and he forgot to sing my song. And when I met him again after the concert, he saw me and came rushing towards me. 'I am very sorry', he said, and kept repeating it. I told him I considered myself fortunate to have talked to him in person and hear him sing in front of me, but he said it one more time before getting into the car. It was great to see him talk contently to the organizers about the success of last 30 days, and laughing and joking with his childhood friend who he was meeting after 10 years.

I have to talk separately about the rendition of Ye Jo Halka Halka Suroor Hai that night. He surpassed himself in those thirty minutes of passionate singing, which was even more incredible because he had very little vocal support in his group. He just took the fabulous qawwali to an even higher plane. The intensity of the song was such that I thought, this is in no way Halka. The intoxication was undiluted and took you high instantaneously. Four days later, still feeling dazed and feeling blessed, I realize he was talking about this lasting, mild intoxication that's sure to last a lifetime.

Here's wishing the best of everything to the undoubted best of our 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.