Pic: Courtesy - Timeless Indian Melodies |
Mohammed Rafi is my favourite male singer. I have written extensively about him on my blog – here, here, here, and here. What’s more, he’s always present on most of my themed lists. It is impossible to pick my ‘favourite Rafi songs’ – there are too many to count, and I have different ‘favourites’ at different times. So what could I do to celebrate the birth centenary of my favourite singer?
I had been
toying with the idea of making an A-Z list of Rafi songs for a very long time. It seemed a fitting tribute to a singer whose voice
could hit the high notes as effortlessly as he could sound the deep low notes; who
sang rock-and-roll with such joy as he sang bhajans with devotion; who could
make you feel the passion in his romantic songs as he could bring tears to your
eyes with his sad songs.
Pic: Courtesy - Google |
Songs based on classical ragas, bhajans, patriotic songs, rock-n-roll, and qawwalis, he sang them all. Funny songs, romantic songs, teasing songs, sad songs – there isn’t an emotion he hasn’t expressed. Rafi was an incredible voice-actor; he articulated emotions we didn’t know we felt.
Yet, the task was not as easy as it seemed. Firstly, I wanted to ensure that I didn't repeat songs from my previous lists. Secondly, trying to slot Hindi songs into the English alphabet is a bit like the Kaifi Azmi quote on trying to fit a corpse into an already-dug grave. Phonetically, one Hindi alphabet (व) could either be ‘V’ or ‘W’ in English; there were no songs beginning with the English alphabet ‘X’; ‘F’ doesn’t exist in Hindi (the corresponding letter is pronounced ‘pha’ not ‘fa’) and so on.
As I was researching the songs for this post, I realized that in 2022, my late friend and masala soul sister, Bollyviewer, had had the same idea. That was okay; we had often come up with similar ideas/themes/reviews independent of each other. We celebrated our soulsister-hood that way. What’s more, she had restricted herself to Rafi’s duets from B&W films while I’d restricted mine to (mostly) solos (from both B&W and colour films).
But, fellow blogger Songs of Yore had also pipped me to this post. He’d begun this year with an A-Z celebration of Rafi solos. Never mind, his list mostly differed from mine, so I decided that rather than scrap the idea, I would just link to both these lists – here and here – so my readers could have triple the fun. After all, there can never be ‘enough’ Rafi songs to listen to, can there?
And, as a bonus, I wrote up an entirely different list of A-Z Mohammed Rafi songs for Silhouette magazine – here. Enjoy! A – Aap ke haseen rukh pe aaj naya noor hai
Music: OP Nayyar
Lyrics: Anjaan
Picturised on: Dharmendra
The only problem with singing a song when there are two women present is that you need to make it very clear who you are singing to – or the wrong woman might reciprocate. Jeeten (Dharmendra) is singing praises of his lady love, Sunita (Tanuja) who, shyly, reciprocates his affection. Unfortunately, her elder sister Anita (Mala Sinha), mistakenly assumes that her reporter is hinting at his affection for her.
The film marked the end of the rift between Guru Dutt and OP Nayyar and the latter composed a romantic ballad that combined music, melody and lyrics to perfection. Rafi’s voice, warm and mellow, caressed the notes in a manner only he could. Picturised on a very young and very handsome Dharmendra, and the lovely ladies, Mala Sinha and Tanuja.
B – Banda parwar thaam lo jigar
Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon (1963)
Music: OP Nayyar
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Picturised on: Joy Mujherjee
As Bertie Wooster would say, Spring is when a young man sort of wishes a young lady would come up to him and ask him to save her from assassins. Here, of course, the young man, disguised as a tangawala, faux abducts the girl he loves. She is not exactly averse to his attentions, and once she realises who her ‘kidnapper’ is, she is content to sit back and enjoy the ride.
Phir Wohi Dil Laaya Hoon is one of Nasir Hussain’s patent entertainers, and makes for pleasant viewing indeed. This song includes OP Nayyar’s signature tanga beats, and Mohammed Rafi lends his voice to this lovely melody that, though as romantic as Aap ke haseen rukh, is in a completely different mood. Banda parwar thaam lo jigar is a peppy song, sung with lightness; Rafi’s voice glides like warm honey and brings a smile to your face.
C – Chhupnewaale saamne aa
Tumsa Nahin Dekha (1957)
Music: OP Nayyar
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Picturised on: Shammi Kapoor
Tumsa Nahin Dekha had a bouquet of songs, each lovelier than the other. Rafi infuses this quiet melody with a stillness that differentiates it from, say, Yun toh humne laakh haseen dekhi. Yet, there's playfullness, there's teasing, there's love in his voice that Shammi Kapoor expresses so beautifully on screen. Theirs was truly a match made in heaven - voice and soul!
D – Dekhi zamaane ki yaari
Kaagaz ke Phool (1959)
Music: SD Burman
Lyrics: Kaifi Azmi
Picturised on: Guru Dutt
Dekhi zamaane ki yaari is the perfect example of how a song can sound drastically different in different iterations. When we first hear it, we see a hugely successful Sinha (Guru Dutt), surrounded by adoring fans. Rafi’s voice lets us peek into Sinha’s inner world – Dekhi zamaane ki yaari suggests that Sinha is aware of how fickle this adulation can be. In its second iteration, Rafi’s voice exudes melancholy; Sinha is now a failure, down on his luck, so poor that he’s chased out of the studios that were once his fiefdom. The cynicism in Kaifi’s lyrics is but a reflection of Sinha’s realization that the glamorous show world of which he was an undisputed ruler masks its transactional nature. The world takes back a hundredfold what it gives you. Kaifi’s imagery is both stark and painful – where Spring is but a momentary guest; where joy ends when the night passes; where bees hover around paper flowers in vain, and where hope stumbles amid the sands.
SD’s music whips up the image of a mental storm, complementing Rafi’s voice rising into a crescendo. It’s an image that Guru Dutt masterfully picturises as a wind whipping Sinha’s frayed and shabby garments.
E – Ehsaan tera hoga mujh par
Junglee (1961)
Music: Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Hasrat Jaipuri
Picturised on Shammi Kapoor
Another ‘quiet’ song picturised on Shammi Kapoor – this time, he’s trying to placate his beloved who’s rightfully angry at the humiliation she has suffered at his mother’s hands. Rafi infuses the song with a sweet – but quiet – passion that makes you want to forgive your man a thousand wrongs.
F – Falak bola khuda ke husn Khuda ka Banda (1957)
Music: SN Tripathi
Lyrics: Shewan Rizvi
Picturised on: Bhagwan Sinha, Tiwari (?)
This lyrics by Shewan Rizvi traverse religion, humanity and philosophy as two qawwals debate the eternal question:
Falak bola Khuda ka husn hain meri fazaaon mein
Zameen boli Khuda maujood hai meri hawaaon mein
What is interesting is that Rafi lends his voice for both men, and he modulates his voice to distinguish one’s arrogance and the other’s humility, giving the impression that there are two singers giving playback. It’s a stunning performance, and a beautiful qawwali composed by that underrated music director, SN Tripathi.
G – Gham ke andheri raat mein (with Talat Mahmood)
Sushila (1963)
Music: C Arjun
Lyrics: Jan Nisar Akhtar
Picturised on:?
This song is one of the few duets on this list; there weren’t too many songs beginning with ‘Ga’ that I liked and I didn’t want to use Gham iss kadar badhe ke main ghabraakar pee gaya (Pyaasa) since it was more of a recitation than a song. Rafi recited it fabulously, of course, but I thought this song, though a duet, would be a better fit.
Talat Mahmood’s quiet despair is complemented by Rafi’s note of hope and optimism; it’s a beautiful melody sung by two legends, languishing unfortunately in an obscure film released almost a decade later as Subah Zaroor Aayegi (1977).
H – Hai kali kali ke lab par Lala Rukh (1958)
Music: Khayyam
Lyrics: Kaifi Azmi
Picturised on: Lotan
If this song had been picturised on Talat Mahmood as was originally intended, it would have been a coup of sorts – Rafi singing for Talat. However, the song was eventually picturised on Lotan (and Radhika, Kumkum’s younger sister). While Talat played the romantic hero, Khayyam brought Rafi in for this lilting ballad, making sure the composition would not be ‘technically perfect’. Rafi validated Khayyam’s faith in him by imbuing the melody with both lyricism and romance.
I – Iss rang badalti duniya mein
Rajkumar (1964)
Music: Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Hasrat Jaipuri
Picturised on: Shammi Kapoor
Shammi Kapoor would be the first to admit that much of his success must be attributed to his singing voice, Mohammed Rafi. Certainly, the success of Shammi as a romantic hero can certainly be laid at the feet of Rafi’s mellifluous voice serenading the different heroines through Shammi’s on-screen avatar. This song, for instance. While Shammi is known to prance around like a whirling dervish – ‘the man won’t stand still for a minute’ said Rafi – there are times when he channels his inner romantic and becomes even more swoon-worthy than ever.
In Rafi’s voice is the awe that Shammi expresses on screen to his lady love (Sadhana); In this rapidly changing world, men’s intentions are not honourable (Insaan ki neeyat theek nahin). And why only men? He daren’t say goodbye to her because he trusts no one. She is so beautiful that he suspects even God would be led astray.
Kaise khuda haafiz keh doon /Mujhko toh kisi ka yaqeen nahin
Chup jaao hamaari aankhon mein/Bhagwan ki neeyat theek nahin
J – Jungal mein mor naacha Madhumati (1958)
Music: Salil Choudhury
Lyrics: Shailendra
Picturised on: Johnny Walker
Johnny Walker playing a drunk, on screen – exceptionally well, considering he was a teetotaller. Rafi, slurring the lyrics in perfect sur, and never mind that he was a teetotaller as well. Rafi’s voice dipped and soared, slurred and hiccupped and gave us a song that was intoxicating to listen to. Like Shammi Kapoor, Johnny Walker also insisted upon Rafi singing playback for him. And the singer went the extra mile for songs picturised on the legendary comedian.
Salilda’s compositions, even the seemingly simple ones, are never easy to sing, and that Rafi does so well is a testament to his incredible talent. Interestingly, Rafi also lent his voice to Dilip Kumar in Toote hue khwaabon mein in the same film, and one could swear they were two different playback singers. Jungal mein more naacha is a perfect melding of music, lyrics, rendition and picturisation.
K – Kahin ek masoom nazuk si ladki
Shankar Hussain (1976)
Music: Khayyam
Lyrics: Kamal Amrohi
Picturised on: Kanwaljeet
Kahin ek mason nazuk si ladki is Rafi at his romantic best, the sort of song that makes you want to fall in love. This is an out-and-out Rafi song because Khayyam keeps the orchestration minimal, allowing Rafi, with his voice modulation, to take centre-stage.
Rafi is just brilliant here, soft and sensual. Though the song is wasted on Kanwaljeet – the poor chap is so wooden in his debut film that all of Rafi’s voice-emoting is squandered.
The film had an unusual subject but neither the direction nor the acting was up to par, leaving this film to be lost in obscurity.
L – Lagta nahin ye dil mera Lal Qila (1960)
Music: SN Tripathi
Lyrics: Bahadur Shah Zafar
Picturised on: M Kumar
Another song – a ghazal – with minimum orchestral accompaniment, Lagta nahin ye dil mera is an ode to the aching loneliness of a man imprisoned in a land far from his homeland. Written by Bahadur Shah Zafar, the last Mughal emperor, while imprisoned in Rangoon, there’s a resigned hopelessness to the couplets as he bemoans the ruin of his empire and the devastation that’s yet to come. Rafi, reciting this ghazal, infused it with the despair felt by a man who knew he would never see his country again, in life or after death.
Kitna hai badnaseeb ‘Zafar’ dafn ke liye
Do gaz zamiin bhi na mili ku-e-yaar mein
M – Mann re tu kaahe na dheer dhare Chitralekha(1964)
Music: Roshan
Lyrics: Sahir Ludhianvi
Picturised on: Pradeep Kumar
Roshan joins the pantheon of music directors who realized that Rafi’s voice was enough to render their compositions immortal. Rafi’s rendition here stands out for its stark simplicity; Roshan wisely uses very little instrumentation, allowing Rafi’s mellifluous voice to articulate the grief that the protagonist experiences. Sahir’s lyrics express the dilemma of a man who questions not just why love must end in heartbreak but the futility of life itself.
N – Nain lad jaihen Ganga Jamuna (1961)
Music: Naushad
Lyrics: Shakeel Badayuni
Picturised on: Dilip Kumar
I'm cheating a little here; the song begins with Laaga gori guzariya se, but since the song itself is known as Nain lad jaihen toh, I bent my rules a little.
If you want sheer happiness, this is the song you must listen to. Rafi infuses the Awadhi verses with the exuberance of a man who has just discovered that the woman he loves reciprocates his affection. It’s a cheerful, flirtatious folk song and Rafi sings it with cheerful elan, while Dilip Kumar shakes a very graceful leg. Ganga Jamuna was one of Naushad’s best scores in the 60s.
O – O jiya O jiya o jiya kuch bol do
Jab Pyar Kisi Se Hota Hai (1961)
Music: Shankar-Jaikishan
Lyrics: Hasrat Jaipuri
Picturised on: Dev Anand
A man bent on getting the girl he loves to admit she loves him; a girl who affects disdain but secretly loves him. Add Rafi’s voice to the mix, and who can resist? Listen to him enunciate:
Nazron se jitne teer chale
Ho chalne do jigar par jhelenge
In pyaar ki ujli raahon par
Hum jaan ki baazi khelenge
Rafi could sound carefree with the best of them.
P – Pipra ke patwa mein Godaan (1963)
Music: Ravi Shankar
Lyrics: Anjaan
Picturised on: Mehmood
Pt. Ravi Shankar aptly chose folk music to compose this lovely ballad of a man returning home to his beloved. Anjaan’s lyrics in a regional dialect (Awadhi? Bhojpuri?) reflect the young man’s rustic simplicity, while Rafi’s voice reflects the quiet joy that is reflected both in the lyrics and on the young man’s (Mehmood) face as he walks along to his village. Rafi sings with such gusto that it never fails to make me smile. He exerts such control over his voice that, even knowing he was a singer par excellence, one sits spellbound!
Q – Qismat ka likha na tale
Parichay (1954)
Music: Sailesh Mukherjee
Lyrics: Keshav Trivedi
Picturised on: Abhi Bhattacharya (?)
It’s sad that a film directed by Satyen Bose should languish in obscurity; there’s not a single video clip available anywhere. Parichay tackled the sensitive subject of childlessness and the societal practice of blaming the woman, with less melodrama than is usually the case. It also, unusually for the time, had a sensible, realistic ending. Shailesh Mukherjee, the composer, is virtually unknown. From what I can glean, he composed for a handful of films, and acted in a few as well. This song, a plaintive melody that rails against the vagaries of cruel fate, is rendered even more touching by the pathos in Rafi’s voice.
Music: Madan Mohan
Lyrics: Sahir Ludhianvi
Picturised on: Sunil Dutt
This nazm is classic Sahir, bitterness soaking the blessings he’s bestowing upon the woman he loves as she is to wed another. Rafi’s voice is filled with both pain and passion, edged with helplessness. It’s a great example of his ‘voice-acting’. One doesn’t have to see Sunil Dutt express his anguish to feel the desolation in the melody.
Music: Naushad
Lyrics: Shakeel Badayuni
Picturised on: Suresh
Rafi has often mentioned this song as his favourite. Film lore has it that Rafi, though an established singer by this time, was unhappy with his career and wanted to return to Lahore. Naushad asked the young singer to wait; he had a special song for him. Dulari had many songs, several of which were unremarkable ditties, but this song, with Rafi at his soulful best, is a classic in more ways than one. Lyrics, music, and voice all meld to perfection in a song that’s one of Rafi’s best.
Hansta Zakhm (1973)
Music: Madan Mohan
Lyrics: Kaifi Azmi
Picturised on: Navin Nischal
If you ever dreamed of romance in the rain this is the song that would play in the background. This beautiful melody is Madan Mohan’s, the romantic lyrics are by Kaifi, but this song? This is quintessentially Mohammed Rafi. The song begins with only his voice; the orchestration follows shortly after before swelling to a crescendo. Rafi’s voice keeps pace, his quietness complementing the frenzy of the interludes. And that last verse – where he draws out the phrase, ‘kaarvaan mil gaya’? Simply sublime!
U – Us paar is deewar ke jo rehte hain Saiyyan (1951)
Music: Sajjad Hussain
Lyrics: DN Madhok
Picturised on: Sajjan
This is a very unusual song by Sajjad Hussain, if you could ever describe anything by this maverick composer as ‘’usual’. Rafi gets to keep his voice in the lower registers for the composer who first used him in Roopmahal. Rafi’s exuberant energy and the joy he infuses into his rendition is matched onscreen by (a very handsome) Sajjan, who’s imploring the girl next door (Madhubala) to listen to his entreaties. It’s a crazy song and Sajjad, Rafi and Sajjan dial up the zaniness to the max.
V – Vrindavan ka Krishn Kanhaiya (with Lata Mangeshkar) Miss Mary (1957)
Music: Hemant Kumar
Lyrics: Rajinder Krishan
Picturised on: Gemini Ganesan
A sweet bhajan-like composition featuring Rafi and Lata, Vrindavan ka Krishn Kanhaiya is a lesser-known song from Miss Mary. Hemant Kumar, who composed the music, retained Rafi for the male voice (except for Kishore singing for himself). Unlike the other songs in Miss Mary, the base melody of Vrindavan ka Krishn Kanhaiya was retained from the original Brindavanamum Nandakumaranum, due to the producer’s insistence. Hemant did as requested but changed the arrangement, thereby elevating a simple song to great heights.
W – Woh hum na the woh tum na the Cha Cha Cha (1964)
Music: Iqbal Qureshi
Lyrics: Neeraj
Picturised on: Chandrasekhar
Smooth as silk, as mellow as moonlight, Rafi’s voice deepens as he sings of heartbreak in this forgettable movie starring Chandrasekhar and Helen (one of her few lead roles). The song is picturised as a ‘radio song’, where the heroine turns on her radio/transistor just as it is being relayed live. Rafi’s melancholy-filled voice is wasted on a stone-faced Chandrasekhar.
Y – Ye duniya agar mil bhi jaaye toh kya hain Pyaasa (19)
Music: SD Burman
Lyrics: Sahir Ludhianvi
Picturised on: Guru Dutt
Sahir’s searing indictment of a world that treats human relationships – friendship, love, blood relationships – as transactional finds expression in Rafi’s explosion of disgust as he sings:
Jalaa do, jalaa do, jalaa do ise, phoonk dalo ye duniya
Mere saamne se hataa lo ye duniya
Tumhaari hai, tumhi sambhalo ye duniya
Ye duniya agar mil bhi jaaye toh kya hain
[Burn down this world, blow this world up in smoke
Remove it from my sight
This world is yours, take care of it]
SD’s music – understated at the beginning, swirls to an angry crescendo as Rafi’s voice, so resigned, so bitter, so quiet, rises to the scream of an anguished soul (Guru Dutt) in the final verse. Rafi is sublime, his brooding intensity the perfect foil to the bitterness in the lyrics, and the disgust of a man (so beautifully expressed by Guru Dutt on-screen) who has seen the worst the world has to offer. Sheer genius!
Z – Zindagi bhar nahin bhoolegi
Barsaat ki Raat (1960)
Music: Roshan
Lyrics: Sahir Ludhianvi
Picturised on: Bharat Bhushan
The other songs of Barsaat ki Raat tend to be overshadowed by the beautiful qawwalis Roshan composed for the film. But this song, this version by Rafi, is simply marvellous. Sahir – once again – proves that he could write romantic verse just as well as his pen could dip into cynicism and bitterness. An ode to a beautiful woman (Madhubala) a poet (Bharat Bhushan) meets on one rainy night and cannot forget, Zindagi bhar nahin bhoolegi also owes its beauty to Rafi’s soulful rendition.
Like Shammi Kapoor, Bharat Bhushan was another hero who had reasons to be grateful to Mohammed Rafi; the latter's songs were certainly partly responsible for his succesful career.
Today, on his birth centenary, my humble tribute to an artiste who has given me – and continues to give me – hours of listening pleasure. As he once sang:
Tum mujhe yun bhula na paaoge
Jab kabhi bhi sunoge geet mere
Sang sang tum bhi gungunaaoge
You are dearly missed, Rafi saab.
P.S
A playlist of all the songs I've listed above is available here.
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