~By Hafizur Rahman

Had he been alive today, the legendary singer Mohammad Rafi would have stepped into his 102nd year. He left us on July 31, 1980, at the young age of 56. His departure came just a week after the passing of the great Uttam Kumar. Before fans could recover from one blow, a second tragedy struck the world of cinema. Forty-five years have passed, yet the film industry has found no substitute for Rafi—and it is doubtful if it ever will.

December 24th remains a momentous day for music lovers across the Indian subcontinent, for it was on this day that we were gifted the “Kohinoor” of playback singers. His career began as a substitute. At an event where the legendary K.L. Saigal was the lead performer, a sudden power outage led Saigal to return to his hotel to rest. To pacify the restless crowd, a twelve-year-old boy was forcibly pushed onto the stage. That young boy mesmerized the agitated audience with song after song. When the lights returned, Saigal blessed him. That was the beginning. That boy hadn’t even dreamt of music as a profession then, but Bombay followed, and the rest is history.

The composer Naushad mentored Rafi, helping him shed his Punjabi accent and focusing on pure Urdu diction to refine his playback skills. The song “Suhani Raat Dhal Chuki” from the film Dulari proved to be the turning point of his career. From the mid-1940s to the mid-60s, Rafi was peerless—unbeatable and untouchable. However, his career faced its first setback in 1967, for which Rafi himself was indirectly responsible.

During the filming of Shakti Samanta’s Aradhana, Rafi went on a pilgrimage (Hajj). There, someone advised him that music was ‘haram’ (forbidden). Being a God-fearing man, Rafi left Bombay and moved to London to stay with his sons. The film industry soon felt the void, but Rafi continued to turn down offers. Finally, Naushad stepped in as the problem-solver; he convinced Rafi to return to singing. By then, however, Kishore Kumar had stepped into the shoes Rafi had left behind. The “Rajesh Khanna storm” was blowing through the industry, sweeping everything away like straw.

Amidst this, Dharmendra remained an exception. Following the advice of his mentor Dilip Kumar, Dharmendra shifted his focus from romantic films to action and comedy. Rafi began playback for Dharmendra, and hits like “Aaj Mausam Bada Beimaan” from Loafer followed. With the cult song “Main Jatt Yamla Pagla Deewana,” Rafi reclaimed his territory.

Rafi’s biggest fan, director Manmohan Desai, helped him win back the audience’s hearts with a string of hits in Amar Akbar Anthony. Another notable incident—better late than never—involved the film Laila Majnu. Rishi Kapoor initially wanted Kishore Kumar to be his voice, while music director Jaidev insisted on Rafi. To resolve the clash of egos, Shammi Kapoor intervened. Rishi could not refuse Shammi’s request, and the results were historic. Following the success of Laila Majnu, Rishi Kapoor became a devoted fan of Rafi. Subsequently, Rafi provided the voice for Rishi Kapoor alongside Kishore Kumar. It is also worth noting that Manmohan Desai ignored all outside opinions to cast Rafi for Rishi Kapoor in Amar Akbar Anthony, resulting in the intoxicating magic of their collaboration. The journey didn’t end there; his song “Kya Hua Tera Wada” from Nasir Hussain’s Hum Kisise Kum Naheen won a National Award, proving that Rafi was far from finished.

According to Manna Dey, “Rafi is number one; the count for the rest of us begins from number four.” I once had the privilege of speaking with Manna Dey at his villa, ‘Anandam’ in Juhu. His words are a testament to the immense respect a great artist can have for a peer.

Many have received the Bharat Ratna, but Rafi has not. Fans often complain about this, but personally, I don’t give it much weight because the Bharat Ratna has lost some of its gravity. Nowadays, the award is often linked to lobbying and political alignment. The second reason is Kishore Kumar; surprisingly, even Kishore Kumar never received any state honors. Therefore, there is no room for regret. In a market where “wheat and chaff” are valued the same, expecting true recognition is a waste of time.

What do you think? To me, Rafi is not just a ‘Bharat Ratna’ (Jewel of India), but a ‘Vishwa Ratna’ (Jewel of the World). I look forward to hearing your thoughts.