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“Tum mujhe yun bhula na paoge, jab kabhi bhi sunoge geet mere, sang sang tum bhi gungunaoge…” (You won’t be able to forget me. Whenever you will listen to my songs, you will sing along).
“Ek maamooli mutrib hoon, faqat gaana jaanta hoon (I’m but an ordinary singer; I know just to sing),” Rafi had once said about himself. That was the disarming humility of the music aficionado who, even after four decades of his passing, lives on for many thanks to his soulful voice. Even as I write this, a few hundred or thousand words are not enough to outline his contribution to the Indian music industry.
Be it the innocence of Ankhon Hi Ankhon Mein (CID 1956), the frolic of Jaane Kahan Mera Jigar Gaya Ji (Mr. and Mrs. 55, 1955), the vulnerability of Yeh Duniya Yeh Mehfil (Heer Ranjha, 1970), the patriotic Yeh Desh Hai Veer Jawanon Ka (Naya Daur, 1957), or the festive Govinda Aala Re Aala (Bluff Master, 1963), Rafi imbued these and over 7000 songs with the magic of his soul-stirring voice that relayed the emotions of everyman.
“Give him a ghazal, a bhajan, a qawwali, a soft solo or a boisterous masti number… Mohammad Rafi would put his heart and soul into it,” observed veteran music director Naushad in one of his interviews, who was among the first ones to realise Rafi’s talent in the early 1940s.
Born in Kotla Sultan Singh in Punjab on December 24, 1924, to Hajji Ali Mohammad and Allahrakhi Bai, Rafi, nicknamed ‘Pheeko’, spent his early years in Lahore before coming to Bombay (now Mumbai). At the age of 10, the youngster was fascinated by a ‘fakir’ (beggar) who frequented their locality and sang while asking for money. He would follow the man so that he could hear him sing and seeing his enthusiasm, the fakir would bless him. Soon, the young ‘Pheeko’ fell in love with singing and would sing even at his elder brother’s shop, where he was supposed to pick up the skills of a barber. But his father didn’t like it. “He was so against my singing that he would sometimes beat me. But in the end, the music won and I won,” Rafi had once shared.
The singer took training in classical singing from Ustad Abdul Wahid Khan and Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, away from the sharp gaze of his disapproving father, and his teachers loved him. Pandit Jasraj shared in a documentary that Ghulam Ali Khan was a friend of his elder brother, and would often praise Rafi and say, “Pandit ji, Mohammed bohot acha gaata hai (Mohammed sings really well)”.
At 13, Rafi coincidently got to perform by chance in Lahore at the legendary KL Saigal musical programme as the electricity went away and the organisers needed some filler to keep the audience engaged. As Rafi told his daughter-in-law Yasmin Rafi, “I met the right people at the right time and things worked out for me.” Saigal loved Rafi’s voice and prophesized, “One day you will be a great singer.”
His performance at the musical programme caught the attention of music director Shyam Sundar, who was also present that evening, and he gave Rafi his first break in 1941. He sang a song, ‘Soniye ni heeriye ni teri yaad ney bada tarpaya’ in the Punjabi film Gul Baloch, in Lahore. Soon, on Sunder’s suggestion, Rafi moved to Mumbai with his elder brother and thus began his journey to superstardom.
He sang for composers across four decades – starting with Shyam Sundar (the composer who gave Rafi his first Hindi film song in Gaon Ki Gori, 1945) to Ravindra Jain; for SD and RD Burman; from Naushad to Laxmikant-Pyarelal to Bappi Lahiri. He sang alongside Shamshad Begum, Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhosle and Anuradha Paudwal.
The song that made Rafi a household name was ‘Suno suno aye duniyawalo Bapu ki yeh amar kahani’, a tribute to Mahatma Gandhi, which was written by Rajendra Krishnan and composed by the brothers Husnlal and Bhagatram. Jawaharlal Nehru, who wept on hearing Lata Mangeshkar’s ‘Aye mere watan ke logon’, was moved by this song too. On Independence Day in 1948, Nehru awarded Rafi a silver medal and two years later invited him to sing ‘Lehrao tiranga lehrao’ on India’s first Republic Day.
Rafi’s career had no highs or lows. He was always at the top, singing for eminent stars like Dilip Kumar, Dev Anand, Guru Dutt, Rajendra Kumar, and Shammi Kapoor. Music arranger, Kersy Lord shared, “Before entering the studio, the first question he would ask was ‘who is singing the song on-screen?’ and would change his voice according to the mood, actor and situation. Maybe, this is why his range varied from heavily classical to peppy dance numbers. He sang lullabies (‘Main gaaoon tum so jao‘) and bhajans (‘Sukh ke sab saathi, dukh mein na koi’) with as much conviction as he sang hysterical numbers (‘Chaahey koi mujhe junglee kahey’). “Rafi saab sang with so much emotion, that it lightened the burden on the actor during song sequences,” thespian Dilip Kumar once noted about the singer.
Playback singer Manna Dey confessed in an interview that he never felt bad when music composers preferred Mohammed Rafi over him. “Rafi saab bahut hi versatile singer the (Rafi was a very versatile singer). Rafi saab jo kar sakte hain, woh hum nahin kar sakte (What Rafi could do, nobody else could),” he explained. But he was also sure, “If Mohammad Rafi would not have been there, I would have been the top singer, definitely.”
More than anything else, Rafi’s best came out when he sang for Shammi Kapoor. “He was responsible for my success as the rebel star and dashing romantic hero,” Kapoor was quoted as saying by The Hindu. “Often Rafi saab instructed me on how I should perform in song sequences,” he added. Also, the singer couldn’t resist Kapoor’s innocent request for the Kashmir Ki Kali song ‘Ye chand sa roshan chehra’. Writing in the Urdu magazine Shama, Rafi shared, “I was shooting for the Kashmir Ki Kali song when Shammi Kapoor innocently came to me and said, ‘Rafi ji, Rafi ji, I want to have fun in this song, please instil fun in your singing for this song.'” He also convinced music director OP Nayyar to repeat the hook line ‘Tareef karun kya uski’ towards the end, which was Kapoor’s suggestion.
Rauf Ahmed noted in his book Shammi Kapoor: The Game Changer, “The flamboyance that Mohammed Rafi acquired while singing for Shammi Kapoor belied the pious, conservative man that he had been in his private life.”
Mohammed Rafi was a god-fearing, humble, and a kind-hearted man. Amitabh Bachchan said about him, “I have not met a man like him in the film industry. He was a simple man. He was so caring, loveable and there was no air about him.” Scriptwriter Salim Khan believes, “Mohammed Rafi was a Sufi who could sing in God’s voice. There never will be another Rafi, because God doesn’t duplicate.” His youngest son Shahid Rafi said, “I never saw my father shouting at anyone. Even when he had to scold any of his children, he would tell our mother, ‘See what is he doing.’ He never used to say a word.”
The singer feared God so much that he once left singing after someone during his Haj pilgrimage had told him, “Gaana bajana haraam hai, god will never forgive you.” He decided to spend his entire life taking God’s name and went to London to live with his children. But Rafi was upset that his voluntary decision to quit singing was attributed to be a lack of opportunities. Eventually, music composer Naushad’s words, “Your voice is the property of the people, and you have no right to steal that property” hit Rafi and he returned to the music industry.
Throughout his career, the music legend remained above controversy, doing his work quietly, with dignity and attributing his success and fame to Allah. He got uncomfortable when people praised him or talked to him about his profession. The only time he got into a controversy was when Lata Mangeshkar demanded royalty for singers and Rafi didn’t support her. Though the two decided not to sing with each other after the episode, neither spoke ill of the other. In fact, Lata said, “He was a man of God. There were no airs about him. He would neither eat paan, nor chew betel nuts nor drink alcohol. There has neither been a voice like him nor will there be one in a hundred years.”
Even with Kishore Kumar, often addressed as Rafi’s biggest competition, the singer had no rivalry. He addressed him as ‘Dada’ and met Rajiv Gandhi and promised to sing for him for free if he lifted the ban on Kishore. Kumar’s songs were banned from All India Radio (AIR) and Doordarshan from May 4, 1976, till the end of the Emergency because he refused to perform for free at a Congress rally in Mumbai.
“People started telling him that the ban on Kishore Kumar is proving to be beneficial for you. But he didn’t like it. He went to Delhi to meet Sanjay Gandhi and requested him to lift the ban from Kishore and in return he would do 10 shows for him,” Raju Naushad had once revealed.
Despite such greatness and a legion of admirers, Rafi liked to live life away from the limelight and glamour. When not singing, he loved to spend time with his family, his wife Bilquis Rafi, four sons and three daughters; his first son, Saeed, was from his first marriage in Lahore. “He never went to parties; he loved spending time with his family. The only events he attended were weddings and award functions. When among kids my father would be like a kid. He loved playing carom and badminton and to fly kites,” Shahid Rafi recalled in an interview with Rediff.
Rafi died all too soon. On the morning of July 31, 1980, the singer complained of acidity and chest pain. Doctors were called and they revealed that he had a heart attack. “His fingers were all blue. We were calling for an ambulance to take him to the hospital but my father insisted on going in his own car to the National Hospital in Mahim (in suburban Mumbai). He was immediately taken to the ICU and they wanted to fit him with a pacemaker but did not have one. So he was shifted to Bombay Hospital on the advice of his doctor, Dr Modi. On the way, he had three more attacks. At the hospital, he was taken straight to the operation theatre and a pacemaker was installed. Afterwards, my mother told him, “If you rest and get well, we can go home.” My father told her, “Agar tum bolti ho toh my aaram karta hoon.” (If you say so then I will rest). He slept but within five minutes, he was dead,” Shahid Rafi narrated.
Thousands attended Rafi’s funeral. So much so that the wall of the burial ground was broken as a legion of fans wanted to offer their last respects. The heavy rains on the day didn’t deter people from joining the procession and they showered flowers on him from the buildings. Sunil Dutt tried to convince the crowd to give way to the truck carrying the singer’s mortal remains, but people insisted on taking the legend on their shoulders to the cemetery. Such was the love Rafi earned in his lifetime.
Though it is difficult to sum up Rafi’s life in words, Chabbilal, a fictional character in Rahul Bhattacharya’s The Sly Company of People Who Care, has given expression to every Rafi fan’s emotions, “When Rafi sings a dance song, you dance. When he sings a sad song, you cry. When he sings a love song, woman get fever. Rafi gets inside of you, he becomes you and you become him.”
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