I came across this old article,by Rajiv Vijaykar, from a link provided by Anon in the comments page of the Rafi-Kishore saga on this site. As is well known, Rafisaab had gone into a self-imposed shell in the early 1970’s before returning to the music scene big-time in 1977 and ruled again till his passing away in 1980.The article provides a peek into some of the many good/popular songs of the singer during that early seventies period known as the “lean” phase then, but considered CLASSIC today! – Mohanflora

A legend, an inimitable singer and an exemplary human being. Mohd. Rafi was all this and more. July 31 marks his death anniversary and an occasion to go down memeory lane with his memorable songs… 1969 November. Aradhana sweeps the nation. So, separately, or together do Rajesh Khanna, Kishore Kumar and S.D. Burman. A half-year later, R.D. Burman rides piggyback on Mohammed Rafi for his final breakthrough, The Train. He signs a glut of films that have Kishore dominating the inlays.

By mid-1971, Rafi is sidelined in the Kishore wave. Kalyanji-Anandji shift Kishore Kumar-wards, Shanker-Jaikishan are forced to. Especially after Jaikishan’s death, which leads to a decline for Shanker as Jaikishan loyalists shift mostly to RD. And Laxmikant-Pyarelal too are forced to strike a balance. By early 1973, the arrival of the degenerate tradition of “music sittings” completes the case for the media – Rafi is ‘passe’!

This state of affairs is reversed only in 1977. Kishore Kumar, banned by the Congress during the Emergency regime, loses his solo supremacy chronologically coincident with the end of his persecutors’ reign. As the nation celebrates the return of democracy, Laxmikant-Pyarelal and – ironically – R.D.Burman, backed by Manmohan Desai and Nasir Hussain, sculpt a ‘comeback’ for the man who is not only a Colossus among singers, but – by nature – virtually a saint.

It is relevant to mention here about Naushad recalling how a depressed Rafi informed him about his plans to quit in the mid-70s when the Kishore wave peaked. Luckily, Naushad’s advice not to quit was heeded. The veteran composer told him that he should think of quitting only when (not if) he returns to the top.

All this shows the extent to which the great Rafi myth was perpetuated, and believed in, ironically even by Rafi Sahab himself. Today, 22 years after he left us, it is time overdue to shatter this myth once and for all. Let’s take a comparable example. Amitabh Bachchan always did less films than Jeetendra, and Dilip Kumar did fewer films than Bachchan. Which did not make the most prolific star the most successful. By the same yardstick, the reduction in Rafi’s visits to the recording studios did not necessarily imply that Rafi was down. And ironically, it was the high quantum of Rafi songs in the pre-Aradhana phase that helped to fuel this myth. Mukesh, Mahendra Kapoor and Manna Dey too were affected – but since they sang less in any case, they were not declared ’finished’. Rafi was!

But in actual fact, it was during this 1971-76 period that Rafi’s standing almost paralleled Mukesh’s. For Rafi had a greater than ever percentage of hits. Take the Burmans – the men responsible mainly for the mythical ‘eclipse’. To think that the otherwise sagacious Burmans would completely neglect Rafi would be as much an insult to Dada’s and Pancham’s prodigious talents and rock-hard convictions as to Rafi’s monumental talent. Taking the senior first, S.D. Burman’s oeuvre with Rafi during this period included two of their most lustrous collaborations ever – ‘Mera man tera pyaasa…’ (Gambler) and ‘Teri bindiya re...’ (Abhimaan), along with the LP-esque ‘Woh kya hai…’ (Anuraag), the soulful ‘Ae mere man…’(Us Paar) and the fun song ‘Sa re ga ma…’ (with Kishore) in Chupke Chupke.

Pancham, of course, could not side-step Rafi’s virtuosity when he needed the perfect earthy tang for Mela (‘Rut hai milan ki…’, ‘Ek baar rakh de…’, ‘Gori ke gaath mein…’) and Caravan (‘Kitna pyaara vaada…’, ‘Arey ho goriya kahaan tera des…’, ‘Chadti jawaani…’). It was also during this media-created exile that Pancham took inspirational base from the title track of the film If It Is Tuesday It Must Be Belgium to fashion one of his most enduring songs of all time, ‘Chura liya hai tumne…’ (Yaadon Ki Baaraat), despite the Kishore majority in the score.

And if that sounds as if Pancham never did him ‘solo’ justice, cast a thought towards such nuggets as ‘Rekha o Rekha…’ (Adhikar), ‘Ek pate ki baat sunaaoon…’ and ‘Koi aur duniya mein…’ (Pyar Ki Kahani) and ‘O jaan-e-jahaan (Chhalia)’.

There were some more examples that perhaps did not make it to the pop charts – like ‘Aa raat jaati hai…’ (with Asha/Benaam) and ‘Kaahe ko bulaaya…’ (Humshakal) and we could perhaps add ‘Pyar hai ek nishan qadmon ka..’ (Mukti), but the fact is that RD knew only too well which side his Rafi bread had to be kept buttered!

If the Burmans alone could be so good to Rafi, what of L-P and S-J who were completely Rafi-aligned? Think S-J and we had Andaz, Jawan Mohabbat and Patanga (as scores) as well as individual triumphs like ‘Unke khayaal aaye…’ (Lal Patthar), ‘Joode mein gajraa…’ (Dhoop Chhaon), ‘Chirag kiske ghar ka hai…’ (Ek Nari Ek Brahmachari), ‘Humko to jaan se pyaari…’ (Naina) and ‘Teri neeli neeli ankhon ke…’ (with Lata/Jaane Anjaane) – and that’s only the cream.

Laxmikant-Pyarelal of course, flooded Rafi with a string of winners, apart from Rafi-dominated scores like Mehboob Ki Mehndi and Aap Aaye Bahaar Ayee. The other ‘memorabilia’ included ‘Koi nazrana lekar…’ (Aan Milo Sajna), ‘Kuch kehta hai yeh saawan…’ ( with Lata/Mera Gaon Mera Desh), ‘Patta patta boota boota…’ (with Lata/Ek Nazar), ‘Reshma jawan ho gayi…’ (Mom Ki Gudia), ‘Na tu zameen ke liye…’ (Dastaan), ‘Main ek raja hoon…’ (Uphaar), ‘Yeh zulf kaisi hai…’ (with Lata/Piya Ka Ghar), ‘Aaj mausam bada beimaan hai…(Loafer), ‘Tere naam ka diwana…’ (Suraj Aur Chanda), ‘Banda parvar main kahaan…’ (Pocketmaar), ‘Doston mein koi baat…’ (Prem Kahani), ‘Main jat yamla…’ (Jaaneman) and many more.

Such was Rafi’s gentle clout even in this so-called exile that he made an impact even with small composers and lesser films, lending substance and even a permanent place in history to such names as Thokar composers Shamji-Ghanshyamji (‘Apni aankhon mein basaakar…’), Milap composer Brij Bhushan (‘Kahin aisa na ho…’), ‘Ek Nari Do Roop composer Ganesh (‘Dil ka suna saaz tarana dhoondega…’), My Love composer Daan Singh (‘O my love…’), Khoon Khoon composer Vijay Singh (‘Maati ke jalte deepak…’).

During this phase, Rafi would often do what Mukesh did to him in the earlier days – steal the thunder with the single song he sang. Thus we had Rafi upstage multiple Kishore numbers with one ‘Nafrat ki duniya…’ (Haathi Mere Saathi/L-P), ‘Mera man tera pyaasa…’ (Gambler/S.D.Burman), ‘Jis din se tujhko…’ (with Asha under Madan Mohan in Parwana), ‘Wada kar le saajana…’ (with Lata under K-A in Haath Ki Safai), ‘Yeh raat hai pyaasi pyaasi…’ (Choti Bahu/K-A), ‘Zamane ki aankhon ne…’ (O.P. Nayyar/Ek Baar Mooskura Do) and ‘Din hai yeh bahaar ke…’ (Usha Khanna/Honeymoon).

His effortless brilliance was thus spotlighted again and again in this so-called dull phase, in a spell-bindingly variegated ‘buffet’ spread that also included lovely duets like ‘Ek daal par tota bole…’ (Lata) and ‘Paon mein dori…’ (Asha) in Ravindra Jain’s Chor Machaye Shor, ‘Tum jo mil gaye ho…’ (Hanste Zakhm) and ‘Tumse kahoon ek baat…’ (Dastak/Madan Mohan) or those lovely K-A duets like ‘Chal diye tum kahaan…’ (with Asha/Ek Kunwari Ek Kunwara), ‘Diwane hai diwano ko…’ (Lata/Zanjeer) and ‘Ho tumse door rehke…’ (Lata/Adalat).

Rafi and range were synonymous, and it was there in all its resplendent array in two of his chart-smashers during this phase: the Dharma film Sonik-Omi qawwali, ‘Raaz ki baat keh doon…’ (which had coins showered on the screen during the sequence) or that hijra hit, ‘Saj rahi gali meri maa…’ which jet-propelled the debut-making Rajesh Roshan’s career amidst a glut of Kishore numbers in Kunwara Baap. Both were benchmarks in their genre in the 70s.

We also had Rafi giving Ravindra Jain the sole lingering ace in his debut, ‘Nazar aati nahin manzil…’ (Kaanch Aur Heera), and that timeless Usha Khanna masterpiece, ‘Teri galiyon mein…’ (Hawas). Even for a struggling Bappi Lahiri, Rafi ended up singing two steeply melodious songs – ‘Kaisa hai naseeb tera…’(Paapi), ‘Allah hi dega…’ (Sangram).

Rafi and ‘down’? Haven’t we heard that titans go down only in history?

—Rajiv Vijayakar

This blog was published on Friday, August 4th, 2006 at 1:01 am and Last modified on Friday, August 4th, 2006 at 6:51 pm and is filed under Meri Awaaz Suno. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.