Life of an icon

By the fifties, Akashvani had started to broadcast your songs and you became a household name. How did this affect your development?

I had become pretty well known after Mahal and people began to write letters to find out more about the playback singer who had sung the songs in that film. This is when HMV decided to announce that Lata Mangeshkar had sung that song. Let me relate an interesting episode regarding this. It was around 1945–46, when the radio ran a programme of film and non-film music called Aapki Farmaish. This was the first time when the name of the person who had requested it was announced. To hear my own name being announced on the radio, I sent in a request for Begum Akhtar’s ghazal, ‘Deewana Banana Hai To Deewana Bana De’. I tuned in every day not just to hear this wonderful composition but more to hear my name being announced on air (giggles). When they finally did, I walked on air for the next few days! Later, after Barsaat and Bari Bahen, the thrill of hearing my name on air was there but after 1950 or so, I was no longer so interested in either hearing my name or listening to my voice on radio. Truth to tell, the thrill I got from listening to my name after Begum Akhtar’s song was unmatched.

Both Mukesh and you were great fans of K.L. Saigal and there is a trace of his voice in both your voices. Do you agree?

If we are both viewed as fans of Saigal, I am happy to hear that because I really respect Saigal’s voice. I believe that no one could remain unaffected by his music because he was such an extraordinary singer. You are right: both Mukesh and I worshipped his voice and before I came to Bombay he was the only other singer apart from my father whose songs I liked to hear. I wanted terribly to meet him when I

came here, pay my respects and request him to sing a song for me. Sadly, this never happened for he passed away soon after I arrived in Bombay.

In fact, when I bought my first radio the first announcement was that of his death. I was lying on the floor on a mat and listening to some songs when the news of his death was flashed. I was so shocked that I decided then and there to return the radio to the shop. In those days we had very little money for indulgences like a radio and the reason I decided to sell it at a loss was because I could not get over the coincidence of the arrival of a radio in my home and Saigal’s death. I thought it was a bad omen and just could not get over it.

Mukesh Bhaiyya was luckier than me. Saigal had gifted him his personal harmonium. That harmonium is still in Mukesh Bhaiyya’s home. Just listen to Mukesh Bhaiyya’s first song from Pehli Nazar (music by Anil Biswas), ‘Dil Jalta Hai To Jalne Do’, and you will think you are listening to Saigal sahib. I think this was Mukesh’s way of honouring the artiste he so admired, he copied him because he could not coax the same magic out of his throat. What a marvellous tribute! By the way, Kishore Kumar was also a great Saigal fan.

Did you never hear him live at a concert or see Saigal?

No, never. I created a picture of him in my mind after listening to his songs whether from the film world or non-film compositions. My entire clan worships his voice and it was my greatest dream to sing one day along with him. And if that were not possible, then I wished for an opportunity to at least hear him perform or to be able to meet him one day. Sadly, that never happened.

But suppose that you had been able to sing with him, which are the songs that you can think of?

Saigal was not just someone I admired deeply, I think I learnt a lot from his style as well. I once curated a record titled Shraddhanjali to honour the voices that have affected my music and been a seminal influence in my career. I chose several Saigal songs for that album: ‘So Ja Rajkumari’; ‘Main Kya Janoo Kya Jadoo Hai’ (Zindagi); ‘Nainheen Ko Rah Dikha Prabhu’ (Bhakt Surdas); ‘Do Naina Matwale Tihare Hum Par Zulam Karen’ (Meri Bahen); ‘Dukh Ke Din Ab Beetat Nahin’; ‘Balam Aye Baso More Man Main’ (Devdas)—all of which I consider brilliant renderings by him. They sound fresh and appealing even after all these years. I also adore ‘Sapt Suran Teen Gram Gao Sab Gunijan’ (Tansen), set to a pure raga which endears it to me. There are so many Saigal songs that are branded on one’s mind: ‘Ek Bangla Bane Nyara’ (President), ‘Gham Diye Mustakil, Kitna Nazuk Hai Dil’ and ‘Chah Barbad Karegi Humain Na Maloom Tha’ (Shahjahan) . . . Among his non-film songs that I love are ‘Punchhi Kahe Hote Udas’ by Kedar Sharma and Akbar Allahabdi’s ‘Duniya Hoon Main, Duniya Kas Talabghaar Nahin Hoon’ are my favourites. I don’t think any other singer can match up to him. Nor do I think it right to pick a few from the enormous range of his songs because each one is unique in its own way.

Did you ever see Gandhi ji?

Although I never saw him, I heard him several times. I can vaguely remember that in the forties I heard him as he addressed public meetings in Shivaji Park and Chowpatty. The crowds were so huge that we couldn’t see him but could only hear his voice from where we stood far away.

Did you ever wish you had been able to sing at one of his prayer meetings?

Not really, because I was so young then and no one knew me as a singer. I had just started my career and those years were full of struggle for me and my family. Then Gandhi ji passed away in 1948, long before I could muster up the courage to meet him personally. Certainly, I would have loved to sing for him (who wouldn’t?) but the opportunity never arose.

Later, did you ever feel dedicating something to his memory in a song?

Do you know, when I compiled a record called Ram Ratan Dhan Payo, I took most of the songs from his prayer book. In those days, we had toyed with the idea of making a film on Gandhi ji and Sandeep Kohli, Madan Mohanji’s son (then working for Music India), encouraged me to pick the hymns and songs that Gandhi ji liked. Pandit Narendra Sharma also helped me in sourcing these songs, so we included songs by Narsinh Mehta, Tulsidas and Mirabai that were dear to Gandhi ji. Pandit Sharma also decided to include some quatrains from the Ramcharitmanas since Gandhi ji regularly read this work as well as some verses from the Gita. So this is how we created our homage to Gandhi ji. I must also tell you that this album (Ram Ratan Dhan Payo) reached unprecedented levels of popularity and I was flooded with hundreds of appreciative mails and messages. Till today, I receive fan mail for that album!

What are your memories of his assassination?

I remember clearly that I was in Goregaon’s Filmistan Studios attending a Silver Jubilee party for Shehnai, although, as you know, I keep away from parties and social celebrations. I had been persuaded by Rai Bahadur Chunnilal ji (Madan Mohan’s father) to come and I slipped away early to catch the local train home. When I reached, I noticed that the station was strangely empty and people were scurrying home. Outside the station, there was a lot of confusion and noise and I remember that someone shouted, ‘Gandhi ji has been assassinated!’

I was shocked and went home with a heavy heart. After I reached, I just went to my room and the tears would not stop. I felt as if everything had collapsed and there was a strange darkness descending on us. It was a spontaneous outpouring of grief and even today, I can clearly recall how devastated I had felt.

(Excerpted with permission from Yatindra Mishra’s ‘Lata: A Life in Music’; published by Penguin)