PART 9 OF 10: THE INSPIRATION

A film artiste said this about two of his biggest inspirations in acting: "If it had not been for Sivaji Ganesan, I would have never appreciated Marlon Brando". His point was that Ganesan was the medium through which he understood and appreciated the grammar of Brando's craft. It is perhaps the equivalent of people claiming to realize god through their guru.

For me, Balu was that "medium", especially to get to Mohammad Rafi. For some reason, I had passionately loathed Rafi. Not because I had listened to him enough and made up my mind, but I had just decided not to like him. In general, I was so singularly focused on being a Balu bigot that I took it as a personal slight if someone so much as mildly admired another singer. I thought they had lost their mind or out to irk me. It was somehow easier liking Kishoreda. I mean, what was not to like: the booming voice, the quirky personality, the comic timing, the yodeling, and of course, his legendary collaboration with RDB. But Rafi was another matter. I critiqued his voice, accused him of "oversinging", ridiculed his choice of songs (mostly pathos, I argued), and what not.

So, imagine my horror when as an impressionable teenager (I knew everything though), I watched an interview on TV where SPB gushed all over about Rafi's genius and how he was the greatest playback singer there ever was. He took the viewers on a studio tour (that he had named after his mentor, SP Kodandapani), and right at the entrance was a giant-sized portrait of "The Inspiration", Rafi. He was really rubbing it in. I couldn't sleep that night. I wanted to burn up my hand-written song books of Balu that I had assiduously collected over the years. What was the matter with him? I had thought.

More interviews seemed to follow. There was a Rafi reference in almost all of them (maybe they were always there. I just started noticing them). In most of them, Balu proclaimed with finality that no one could ever sing like his idol, Mohd Rafi. Yeah. Whatever. If only you could listen to yourself Mister, I chided him in my mind.

Anyway, decades of listening later, I now begrudgingly accept Rafi as one of the greatest there ever was. He was the original playback singing genius. I can now appreciate his depth, his range, the flawless timber, the improvisations, and the versatility. He began the art of "voice acting". There wasn't an emotion that he did not convey in the ten thousand songs that he sang. Give him reggae, pop, thumri, ghazal, qawwali, or anything. He not only sang with great élan but became the touchstone for every genre for future generations to emulate. And I wouldn't have said all this if Balu had not opened my mind to it.

One song of Rafi that I particularly love is the beautiful bandish 'Madhuban mein Radhika naache re', composed by Naushad for the movie Kohinoor (1960), in Raag Hameer. The lyrics are by Shakeel Badayuni.


What a great composition! It has the classical panache of Naushad painted all over it. Rafi, Naushad's favorite singer, is absolutely resplendent in the song, with his immaculate rendering of the sargams, taranas, and the swaras. In the crowded firmament of brilliant musical talent from the fifties and the sixties, Naushad was one of the brightest shining stars. He belted out one masterpiece after another in movies like 'Baiju Bawra', 'Mother India', 'Mughal-e-azam', and 'Pakeezah'. 

He faded away in the early seventies perhaps because of the sensibility of movies made in that era. In one of his last compositions, for the movie 'Teri Paayal Mere Geet' (1993), directed by his son Rehman Naushad, he used Balu's voice for three of the songs. Someone had introduced Balu to him as the 'Kishore Kumar of the South'. During the rehearsals and the subsequent recording, so impressed was Naushad with Balu's dedication and his rendition - the song was nine minutes long and Balu completed it in "one incredible take", said Naushad in his biography - that he said Balu reminded him of Rafi for his clinical fidelity (his words).
This beautiful and underrated song bears some similarity with 'Madhuban mein Radhika...' and is set in a sibling raaga, Anandi or Nand (remember Madan Mohan's brilliant 'Tu jahan jahan chalega' and how dreamy Lata sounds in that?)
Enjoy this lovely song with lyrics penned by Hasan Kamal. And watch out for Meenakshi Seshadri's nimble and graceful dance movements.



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