Forty years ago on July 31, 1980, Muhammad Rafi breathed his last. Though four decades have elapsed, the singer is still verdant in the collective memory of countless listeners across the world. In fact, time has added to his persona and his popularity is steadily on the rise. Rafi was a versatile genius who could sing all types of songs and his astounding voice enriched all genres of music, be it romantic, serious, playful or pensive. Rafi is credited to have augmented the scope and spectrum of ghazals through his innumerable filmi and non-filmi ghazals.
Before I dwell upon Rafi’s contributions to popularising filmi-ghazals, it’s imperative to understand that the ghazals in Hindi films never strictly adhered to the rules of classical ghazal singing and making. What we understand by a filmi ghazal is actually a geetnuma ghazal (song like ghazal) and vice versa. Filmi ghazals are loosely categorized into two broad spectrums: Naghmai ghazal (song-based ghazal) and nazmai ghazal (an uninterrupted score).
On a vocal scale, Rafi’s voice is considered as orotund, not baritone. He had a very smooth voice sans kharaj or huskiness like that of Mehdi Hasan or Ghulam Ali. The orotund voice quality of Rafi is musically very pliable known as Ilqiyat in Arabic. So, when Rafi sings Koi saghar dil ko bahlata nahin (Dil Diya, Dard Liya, 1966), this filmi ghazal expands its canvas and becomes a masterpiece. The drooping crescendo and clever modulation of pitch make it soporific. And when he sings, Zara sun haseena-e-nazneen (Kaun Apna, Kaun Paraya, 1963), the semi-classical ghazal is appreciated by both connoisseurs of conventional ghazals as well as uninitiated listeners.
Rafi could constantly sing in a de-crescendo mode and you have the best illustration of it in his immortal ghazal: Kaise kategi zindagi, tere baghair (unreleased movie, 1963). Who can forget his filmi-ghazal: Aur kuchh der thahar (Aakhri Khat, 1966)? In fact, Rafi sang 1937 exceedingly hummable ghazal-based songs in his distinguished career. Unfortunately, many of them got snowed under the avalanche of his own not-so-exceptional numbers! And that’s an irony.
While pursuing my PhD on Rafi from the University of Lahore, I realized that a great many wonderful ghazal-like numbers of Rafi simply faded into oblivion due to sheer apathy and a lack of documentation, a malady that has plagued our society and all its spheres. One day, I was at a barber’s shop in Lahore’s upmarket, getting a haircut. The suave hair stylist asked me in impeccable Urdu: Janaab, aap kuchh samaad farmayenge? (Sir, would you like to listen to some music?). I told him that I listened to only Rafi and Mehdi Hasan and no other sub-continental singer ever appealed to me. He then started playing Rafi’s film-songs on a gramophone (on LP records). All the songs were not just rare, but were tasteful to boot.
Then came a song I was looking for: Tum poochhte ho ishq bala hai ke nahin (Film: Naqli Nawab; Lyricist: Kaifi Azmi; Music: Babul). I immediately jotted down all the details. I got to listen to this number for the first time at my mentor Dr Zaifa Ashraf’s place in Khorasan, Iran many moons ago.
The second one, regarded by many as the greatest filmi-ghazal sung by Rafi is even rarer. I found the song at the archives of Bangla film songs at Satyajit Ray Film & Television Institute, Calcutta nearly two decades ago. It’s the only full-fledged Hindi song in a vernacular movie. A vagabond singing an ethereal number, Sabhi kuchh lutakar hue hum tumhare, ke hai jeet uski, jo dil aaj haare.... The song by Rafi was recorded for the Bangla movie, 'Indrani' in 1958, starring Uttam Kumar and Suchitra Sen. Apropos, Uttam Kumar was humming the tune of this song a day before his departure in Calcutta on July 24 and in an uncanny way, Rafi hummed the same song on the day (July 31) he left this worldly theatre!
(The writer is an advanced researcher of music and languages and has pursued a PhD on Rafi from Lahore University)
