I know Ghulam Ali from the time my father played Chupke Chupke on those mellow North Indian summer afternoons when the feeling of nothingness overpowers you. I wanted to see him, and watched the film Nikah in order to spot the singer. I could not find him and questioned the director’s idea of keeping him as far from me as my father did: Ali remained in the LP in the film. Of course, years later, one appreciated the concept and recently when somebody offered a story on how singles are becoming popular, I reminded him of what Ali achieved way back in 1982.
These thoughts resurfaced the other day when I was ushered in to a room to meet the singer, chupke chupke (in secret).
For the first time, his identity was more prominent than his voice. When Ali’s concerts were cancelled, I said to myself, ‘fringe elements’. But when, the other day, a hotel in the heart of Central Delhi refused permission to hold the music launch of a film where he has sung a song and done a cameo, I found it baffling. All I can ask is, Hungama Hai Kyun Barpa ? a Ghulam Ali ghazal that continues to enthral people of the subcontinent. Ali smiles and completes the lines, “ Thodi si jo peeli hai . [I’ve only had a little to drink] Some people are high on anger, some are high on power. It happens. I had never thought I would have to face it. No problem. It is a phase. It happens in our home where there are three brothers, there are periods when they don’t want to talk to each other. Still I could feel the tension.” Ali continues in the light mood. “The whole world acts, and when I acted for a moment in a film, the world is asking, you too. The director (Suhaib Ilyasi) asked me to say a few lines after the song and I agreed to dub them, that’s it. I am not central to the story.”
The film is called Ghar Wapsi and perhaps that is what is making it controversial. “See, it is the message for people of all faiths. Whatever route you take, everybody has to go back to Him. It is not against any religion.” He explains with a verse: “ Woh jahan gaya laut ke mere paas aaya, yehi baat achchi hai mere harjai ki .” [Wherever he goes, he always returned to me, this is the best part about him.]
Many feel that over the years Pakistanis have not been reciprocating the love Indians show for Pakistani artistes. Ali says the comparison is not fair. “India is a big country with diverse cultures. The artists of India don’t need to perform in other countries. At the same time Jagjit bhai (Singh) and Talat Aziz performed in Pakistan and they were loved. In the recent past Daler Mehendi and Mika Singh’s performances were appreciated. I believe Om Puri has recently shot in Pakistan. At times, things get political and artists should not be blamed for it.”
Reflecting on his taalim (education), Ali was among the first to undertake long-distance education when he learnt from Bade Ghulam Ali Khan in Pakistan. “Khan sahib had migrated to India, but his three brothers were there. Once when he was visiting Pakistan, my father took me to him and he agreed to teach me. I used to wait for his deedar [a glimpse of him], and whenever he was in Pakistan he would test me,” Ali says. He started learning at the age of eight. “By 13, I had my first radio concert. One should remember good voice is a God’s gift. How you train it is up to your hard work. A lifetime is not enough for this work. I am still experimenting with it.”
Ali is of the staunch opinion that performing semi-classical and light music too requires training in classical music. “It sharpens your sur and makes the voice malleable. I started as a Hindustani classical singer. See, music knows no boundaries.”
And how could I forget Chupke Chupke ? Ali reminds us that BR Chopra had himself listened to it on radio and perhaps that’s why he conceived it like that on screen. “I sang the Hasrat Mohani ghazal on Radio Pakistan and it was later recorded by HMV on disc. Chopra sahib asked Salma Agha, who used to live in London at that time, to find me,” says Ali. “She said Ali sahibto apne hain . [Ali is ours.] At times I used to stay with her family in London. At that time I was busy with concerts so he took the rights from HMV, and later I came and recorded it all over again.”
Prior to this, Ali sang songs in Punjabi and Urdu for Pakistani films. “But I am not a filmy singer. I never wanted to be one,” he says. “I am more of a private singer. When your non-film work becomes popular, it doesn’t fade. It becomes a classic.” Even when Chupke Chupke became hugely popular, Ali refused film offers. “My father told me early that ‘ film main toh koi bhi gata hai, tu private singer banna .’ [Anyone can sing for a film, you must become a private singer.] I followed his hukum [order].”
Today, Ali says, his role is more of a teacher. Youngsters come to him for selfies. “During my concerts I talk to people and try to translate not only difficult words but also their value. A lay person doesn’t understand words like wabastagi . It means understanding and attachment to each other, which is crucial in today’s times.”
Time for ghar wapsi. Ali has left for Karachi, but hopes that India will call him again. The lines still ring true: Tere bagair kisi cheez ki kami to nahin, par tere bagair tabiyat udaas rehti hai. [Without you, there’s no need for anything, but without my I’m always sad.]
