It is now over 26 years since Mohammed Rafi passed away of a massive heart attack in Bombay on July 31, 1980. He was not yet 55. M Bhaktavatsala does a recap.

This article is taken from Sunday Herald,30-7-06. Slight update editing only – Mohanflora.

Anil Biswas once said that there have been many duplicate Mohammed Rafis but no imitators of Talat Mehamood who was his favorite singer. Then how come all these 25 years Rafi reigns supreme and every succeeding generation seems to instinctively fall in love with his voice? There is now no doubt that there cannot be another Rafi and he is forever.

The secret is the kind of alchemy that nurtured him and his voice, call it the period of history that he lived in, the kind of music makers and poets he worked with, the orchestra comprising of eminent individual instrumentalists that played for him, the riaz that preceded the final ‘take’ of each song he sang. Yes, of course, one can analyze his voice in technical terms.

The voice quality is assessed on several parameters. The major one is the register. In the West, it is linear – bottom heavy ascending to very light transcending the ‘middle’ voice. But our music demands intricate forays into each register. Rafi was a master of that for in ‘swell tones,’ ie the crescendo, his voice never lost the essential heaviness, the quality of timbre. (Compare Lata’s reediness, and Talat’s lack of heaviness).

Fantastic range

He could easily transcend also from ‘focus’ to ‘open throat’ and back. So also the pulsation in pitch accompanied by fluctuations in intensity. But Rafi, over and above everything else, scores in resonance – skill of producing a fantastic range of vocal tone colors accurately depicting the mood and emotional content of a song – without ever straining. He is the best singer on the breath – the portumento style – the sound pouring out and not pushed out.Well. OK. All that’s fine but there is another quality somewhat indefinable which turned the listener into an addict. It happened to me at a very young age when I heard Yahan Badala Wafa Ke from Jugnu, the lingering sorrow he rendered accompanied by Noor Jehan. And then in Saajan a plaintive yet jaunty Humko tumhara hi aasra aptly filmed on a sauntering Ashok Kumar. I did not know the name of the singer then. The shellac disc carried the name of the character in the film. With the sonorous Suhani raat dhal chuki from Dillagi, the name became familiar and then famous with the coming of Deedar and then reached its pinnacle with Baiju Bawra.

Not surprisingly, the composer was Naushad for it was he who had discerned the hidden talent of this very shy, short man and took him to the heights he reached. “A skimpy little boy in a white shirt came to see me in Bombay with a reference from someone I knew. He had a perpetual smile on his face. A little nervous, he confided that his greatest ambition was to sing with Kundan Lal Saigal, the melody king of the 40s.”

But Rafi never imitated any one, refining a voice uniquely his own. And it was Naushad who gave him that flight into eternal fame though Rafi sang altogether 164 songs for him (80 solos) while he has sung 373 songs for Laxmikant Pyarelal. That is because Naushad carefully crafted every song of Rafi to suit Rafi’s genius.

Divine intervention

It is now abundantly clear that the added element beyond all technical analysis of his voice can only be described as ‘divine intervention,’ Rafi’s voice was blessed as indeed the man himself was in real life.

The only time I met Rafi was when he got the best singer award. The occasion was the National Film Awards this time held at the Talkotra Stadium. L K Advani was the Minister of Information and I was the president of Film Federation of India.

Back stage we were awaiting for the President of India to arrive. Eager to fulfill my lifetime ambition I went and joined the group of awardees. Together with many big names Rafi seemed clearly uncomfortable. It was easy to take him aside and sit with him. In response to my words of admiration he merely smiled and pointed skyward. And I just could not believe that this was Rafi’s voice. His speaking voice was almost a whisper. Where did the singing voice come from?

As he sang the award-winning song Kya Hua Tera Wada from Hum Kisise Kam Nahin later that evening, I realized that there was in his voice an ethereal character that Anil Biswas had overlooked.

Many may sing like a Rafi, Talat or Mukesh but there can never be another Rafi. That meeting was in 1979. A year later he was no more.

Fortunately for us, there are around 4,700 songs he has left behind. To think that he was paid just Rs 50 for his early songs and finally rose up to Rs 18,000 for the last song he recorded in Aas Paas, it seems as though he has gifted us an invaluable treasure almost free.

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