Madam Ji

Madam Ji

by

Ally Adnan

Malika E Taranum Noor Jehan was not in a good mood when I met her for the

first time in my life. She was standing behind the glass wall of the recording room

at Shahnoor Studios in Lahore and was very upset. Everyone present could hear

the litany of Punjabi obscenities in coming out of her mouth on speakers. I had

been waiting for as long as I could remember to see Madam Ji - as she was called

by those in the industry and those close to her - in person and had been unable to

sleep with excitement the night before. These were not the words I was expecting

to hear in her voice. Once she had the obscenities out of her system, she took a

brief pause, and said something decidedly naughty but rather charming and

started laughing.

Madam was recording a song for Nazir Ali that day. Flautist, Khadim Hussain, was

the target of her ire. She was unhappy with the

interlude he was playing and with his

interpretation of raag Darbari. And standing

behind the glass wall she made sure that he - and

everyone else present - knew. Her words, albeit

crass, were delivered with style and a tinge of

humor. Her laugh at the end of the tirade was

silvery and naughty, showing pleasure,

embarrassment and incredulity, all at once, at

having said something off color in public. In

meetings that followed, I sometimes saw her

utter profanities that would make bouncers at

the kothas in Heera Mandi blush, some that I do

not understand to this day; but she was never vulgar. Only Madam Ji could do

this - deliver every word she uttered with style and class. Everything she did was

done with class. No one had more class in the industry at the time; and no one

has had it since.

Khadim Hussain was no ordinary flute player. The tone of his bansuri and his

breath control were remarkable. When

Khawaja Khurshid Anwar had trouble with

several flautists while recording Heer Ranjha

( 0791 )'s famous song, Sun Wanjhali Di

Mithri Taan, he had sought the celebrated

flautist out. Khadim got the song right in

three takes. Yet, Madam Ji was not satisfied

that day. The song was loosely based on

raag Darbari. She wanted the komal dhaivat

to be softer and kept recording over and

over again until Khadim Hussain got

Darbari's ati komal dhaivat just right. Madam Ji not only had perfect pitch, she

also understood shrutis, and knew that the dhaivat used in Darbari is lower than

the komal dhaivat. I was in awe of her knowledge, her singing and her towering

personality. I had never seen anyone like her in my life. I knew then that I had

been a fan of the right person all my life.

A few years ago, some musicians were discussing

Noor Jehan and Lata Mangeshkar at the Sangeet

Natak Akademi in Delhi. A lot was being said about

Lata's accuracy and mastery over music notes. I

was the only Pakistani in the group and could not

resist sharing my opinion. "Lata has complete

control over the twelve notes," I remember having

said. "When she starts singing, the twelve notes

stand before her with their hands folded, in

respect, waiting obediently for her to command

their movements. Little wonder then that she sings with such ease."

Noor Jehan, on the other hand, does not

desire to have control over music notes.

When Madam Ji starts singing, the

twelve notes come alive and start

dancing with pleasure. She creates music

that makes the notes mast - I am sorry I

do not know how to translate this word

into English - and notes that are high on

music cannot and should not be

controlled. Madam Ji lets these djinns dance in their euphoria and tames them

into making music for God. Singing is, therefore, not effortless for her. It is, in fact,

an emotionally, spiritually and physically draining exercise for her. "

Geetanjali Lal, renowned kathak guru and, today, the chief of the repertory

company of the Kathak Kendra in Delhi, was one of the people present. She

smiled when I had said my piece. " You are so right. All of us know the truth about

Lata and Noor Jehan," she said. "Not everyone has the courage to say it like you

did."

Singing did not come easily to

Madam Ji. She had to put her

heart, soul, mind and spirit

into recording songs.

Sometimes she would allow

me and others to join her in

the recording room. We used

to sit behind her and could

always see her bare back on

ample display due to very low

cut blouses she liked. She would start fresh but very soon small beads of sweat

would start appearing on her back. These would soon turn larger in size and, at

the end of most songs, Madam Ji was drowned in sweat, drained and listless with

exhaustion. She had given the song all she could!

I met Madam Ji for the second time at the Tai Wah restaurant on Main Boulevard

in Lahore. She was having dinner with a large group of people. I went up to her to

introduce myself and she asked me to

join her party. There were about thirty,

or so, guests at the long dinner table

and I recognized poets Parveen Shakir,

Qateel Shifai and Ahmad Nadeem

Qasmi. Madam Ji was, of course, the

center of attention. The topic of

discussion was poetry and she was

holding her own, reciting her favorite

couplets by Daagh, Sauda, Ghalib and

Faiz. I found out that she was very fond

of poetry and wrote herself, as well. She

recited a ghazal she had recently written

in Behr E Hazaj Musamman Salim which I found very charming due to its

simplicity and innocence. I remember a few couplets from the ghazal even today.

ہے بنتا دیوانہ وہی ھو لیتے دیکھ ُتم ِجسے

ہے بنتا افسانہ ایک تو لو کر بھی بات سی زرا

قامت یہ رخسار، ترے لب، تیرے یہ آنکھیں، تری

ہے بنتا میخانہ وہیں آؤ چلے ُتم بھی جہاں

The party went on for hours, well past the restaurants closing time. All through

the evening, Madam Ji led the conversation in chaste Urdu and demonstrated a

knowledge and understanding of poetry rivaling that of Lahore's literati. Everyone

present wanted her to sing and she relented towards end of the evening. She

sang Khawaja Khurshid Anwar's Saagar Roye Lehrein Shor Machaien from Koel

(1959), improvising the song with new taans and behlavas, for a good ten

minutes. The restaurant was almost empty by that time. Madam Ji's voice filled

the hall and floated over all of us. The recorded song is loosely based on raag

Shudh Sarang but flirts with raag Des as well. Madam Ji displayed her knowledge

of both that evening.

Khawaja Khurshid Anwar's song employs meends as the preferred alankaar

mostly eschewing taans. The mukhra of the song illustrates a perfect meend

traversing the whole saptak, executed flawlessly by Madam Ji without even a hint

of strain on the vocal chords. At the end of the piece with the words Nainan Bhar

Aaiyen, she executes a swift and subtle four note murki getting back to Nikhad in

the mandar saptak to start the mukhra. Her execution is masterful.

Noor Jehan belonged to a family of

musicians but her classical training

came primarily from musicians

outside of her family. She studied

formally with Ustad Ghulam

Muhammad Khan, for several

decades, and with Bade Ghulam Ali

Khan, briefly, before he migrated

to India. She developed a deep

understanding of music by listening intelligently to the songs of all good singers of

her time. Madam Ji maintained a

close association with Malika E

Mausiqui Roshanara Begum and

hosted her whenever she visited

Lahore from Lala Musa. Roshanara

Begum used to refer to Madam Ji as

siyaahi chut because of her unique

ability to acquire musical knowledge

from everyone that she listened to.

She played gracious host to Rasoolan

Bai when she visited Lahore for the All Pakistan Music Conference. Madam Ji

made great efforts to

attend mehfils of Ustad

Salamat Ali Khan, Ustad

Fateh Ali Khan, Ustad

Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan

and Mukhtar Begum.

The close association

with the stalwarts of

classical music built a

solid foundation for

Noor Jehan. She had the

intelligence to employ

her knowledge of

classical skillfully into her singing of ghazal and geet. Contrary to popular belief,

Madam Ji spent several days preparing for recording songs based on raags. She

would immerse herself in a raag that was the basis of the song she was to record

for a few days before the recording. She would diligently practice the raag with

Ustad Ghulam Muhammad and sometimes sing the raag and the song with other

members of her Ustad's family and her own, to get ready for her recording.

Aiman was Noor Jehan's favorite raag. Her sharp Gandhar and Nikhad were

ideally suited for the raag. She sang a

chota khayal, Raseelay More Rasia

Najariya Mila, for Rasheed Attre in

Mausiqar (1962). The song begins like

a Lakshan Geet starting with the

aarohi and avrohi followed by a short

pakar. Noor Jehan shows her

knowledge of both Hindustani and

Carnatic sangeet in this song. The use

of the pa DHA NI SA phrase, instead

of MA DHA NI SA, several times in aarohi is clearly a Carnatic practice whereas the

taans employed in the song are decidedly Hindustani. During the second half of

the song, while singing sargam and taking taans, she moves to the taar saptak

with the grace of a leopard and, once there, roars like a lioness. The taans are

crisp and clean, breath control perfect, and the notes pitch perfect. The song is a

lesson in singing Aiman for students of music.

Noor Jehan sang hundreds of songs in Aiman, yet she brought great individuality

to each song, exploring the raag in

different ways to suit the mood

and the text of the song. The

Punjabi song by Wazir Afzal in

Aiman, Weh Ja Aj To Mein Teri

from Yaar Mastaane (1972), is

playful and full of hope, energy and

happiness. Gul Bakauli's Aao Ri

Piya Sung Khailain Hori, composed

again in Aiman, is serious and maintains a sobriety apropos for supplication.

Hassan Latif Lilak's Ae Wattan Ke Sajeelay Jawanoo is regal. The ghazal, Jab Yeh

Jan E Hazeen Waqf E Aalam Hui uses a complex and intricate structure in Aiman

whereas Mujh Se Pehli Si Muhabbat from Qaidi (1962) employs Aiman in a simple

and graceful form. While in the same raag, each song is distinct in mood, spirit

and structure. Noor Jehan's singing was not just about maintain fidelity to

classical raags; it was about getting the emotions and mood of the song right.

Noor Jahan sand Ahmed Faraz's ghazal,

Payam Aaye Hain US Yaar e Be Wafa

Ke Mujhe, primarily in the rarely heard

raag Zilaf. However, She almost

completely omits komal rikhab and

pancham deviating from Zilaf. The

alaap starts in a very melodious scale :

SA GA ma dha ni SA, SA' ni dha ma GA,

ma GA SA, 'ni, 'dha, 'ni, 'SA. In the

second part of the asthai, Jisse Qaraar Na Aaya, an unexpected tension is created

by the sudden but assured introduction of the komal gandhar. The emphasis on

the note creates a feeling of sorrow, longing and pathos prevalent in the ghazal.

One line from the asthai, Nashe Se Kam To Nahin Yaad E Yaar Ka Aalam, deserves

special mention. Noor Jehan employs a controlled vibrato, almost the way notes

are wavered in aazan, evoking the sufi imagery of intoxication in the thought of

the beloved. The ghazal is a lesson in maintaining the theme, mood and

atmosphere of a song while fulfilling all demands of sur and laya.

A large number of songs sung by Madam Ji were not composed in classical raags.

She understood that, while a lot can be said

about raags, they are essentially tonal

frameworks for singing. A raag is defined, to a

large extent, completely by the aarohi, avarohi

and pakar. Even when she sang a song not

composed in a classical raag, she made sure

that the aarohi, avarohi and pakar was correctly

established for the song. This firm and assured

establishment of tonal parameters essentially

made each one of her songs a raag. Her

recorded pieces were obviously short but when

she sang her songs privately and in concerts,

she would expand and improvise them like khayals.

Her famous ghazal, Diyar E Noor Main Teera Shaboon Ka Saathee Ho is not based on a classical raga. One sees glimpses of several raags in the song composed by Ustad Nazar Hussain. Noor Jehan uses both Nikhaads and both Gandhars making parts of the song unmistakingly Malgunji. The almost complete omission of Pancham and her emphasis on the Madham are a part of Rageshri. There is a glimpse of Bageshri and that of the Carnatic Natakurunji in the antaras. The

fact is that the song is neither Malgunji nor Rageshri, and certainly not Bageshri and Natakurunji; it is a raag in itself with rules clearly defined by Nazar Saab and Madam Ji, rules that she follows with remarkable fidelity.

In addition to sur and raag, Noor Jehan had mastery over laya and taal. "Every singer understands laya and taal," she once told me. "But more is needed. You

need to understand the chaal of the percussionist to sing well." In her Punjabi song from Duniya Pyar Di (1974), Bara Ji Karda Si Tun Milain, she changes the style of her singing with each new chaal of keharwa effortlessly to maintain the spirit of the Nazir Ali's composition. Master Abdullah's song, Mahi Ve Sanu Bhul Na Javin, from Malangi (1965) is a masterpiece; the use of different

chaals of keharwa in the song, borders on genius. The antaras begin in simple keharwa in line with the sad mood of the first two misras of the antara. As the mood of the antara changes to hopeful in the third misra, the tabla moves to a more celebratory keharwa. Noor Jehan handles both chaals masterfully clearly delineating the changing mood of the poetry. Her knowledge of percussion was not only limited to ghazal and geet. Farrukh Bashir recorded a few classical pieces for PTV's second Tarranum series. I remember her singing Puriya for that program draped in a purple silk sari surrounded by her musicians, attendants, daughters and grandchildren. She sang vilambit in the rarely used taal Ikwai and the drut in ektala. In the drut portion (Mueenuddin Khawajgan Der Kyun Lagai), Madam Ji said both a bedam and a damdar tihai with such precision that, when I played the video for my friend Ustad Tari Khan, he exclaimed, "Vah! Vah! Kya ustad aurat hai!" and had me replay the piece three times.

Ustad Nazar Hussain's ghazal, Nigah E Jaur Sahi Dekhiye To Kam Se Kam, is a particularly complex composition. I remember the rehearsal sessions with Madam Ji, Nazar Saab, tabla player Ghulam Sabir, and a few other musicians. When Nazar Saab sang the ghazal, one of the musicians present exclaimed that the composition was betaali. Ghulam Sabir, too, felt that the Nazar Saab had composed a song that was off beat in parts; But Noor Jehan got it, knowing fully well that

Nazar Saab had made no mistakes in composing the ghazal. She understood his masterful use of rhythm and got it right the very first time. Indeed, it was a challenge to gather the long antara, take a short pause, and land on the sam for the mukhra, while maintaining correct tempo, but that is something Madam Ji did with great facility and confidence.

Noor Jehan sang comfortably in a range of three octaves. It is true that some musicians sing over larger ranges. However, the vocal range of a singer is only of value when the quality of voice, pitch and singing is maintained throughout the range; traversing a large vocal range at the expense of the quality of singing and voice has no merit. It is here that Noor Jehan is incomparable. She maintains the natural nasal quality of her voice and her tremendous singing skills in all of the registers that she sings in.

Lata Mangeshkar chose to comment on Noor Jehan’s vocal range when paying her a posthumous tribute by acknowledging that Noor Jehan could sing as low and as high as she wanted and that the quality of her voice always remained the same no matter which register she sang in. "Woh jahan tak chahti thein, gaati thein, " Lata said. "Aur aawaz oopar aur neechay aik jaisi rehti thi."

Madam Ji's throw of voice was exceptionally strong. Her voice filled the movie theater where her songs were played. This attribute made her range seem larger than three octaves and allowed her to record qalandari dhammals in an inimitable matter at remarkably high pitches. The famous dhamaal, Shahbaz Karay Parwaaz, from Maan Te Maama (1973) is sung at a high pitch and in the mandar, madh and taar saptaks. The quality of the song, however, is not only maintaining her voice and tone over the three registers. Her real talent is demonstrated by the alankaars she employs once she reaches the high notes of the taar saptak. The virtuosity of her murki, aakaar ki taan and phirrat demonstrated here is one for the ages. In Khan Chacha (1972)'s song, Jina Teri Marzi Nacha Beliya, she employs a short gammak at the end of each antara, an alankaar rarely used by female vocalists and almost never in ghazal and geet.

Madam Ji did not sing all her songs with force. She changed her style based on the

spirit of each song. In the late

eighties, she recorded an album of

Naats for EMI. Here she emphasized

on the delicacy of singing. The

opening piece was Salim Gilani's

naat, Be Hazur Sarwar E Sarwaran

based primarily on raag Audav

Bageshri. Noor Jehan establishes

the standard for singing naat here

by focusing on devotion,

supplication and love without

compromising any of the

requirements of raag and taal.

Percussion is kept low in the composition set to the seven (7) beats Roopak taal.

Noor Jehan understands the structure of the taal and never emphasizes the sam

knowing fully well that it is one of the few taals where the sam has a khaali.

Audav Bageshri is the primary raag in the naat but Noor Jehan introduces the

shudh gandhar expertly to enhance the mood using it with greater emphasis than

is done in Audav Bageshri. The phrases, ga RE ga, RE SA and ma, SA RE SA, are

used throughout the song to enhance its devotional nature. She employs Bageshri

and Bageshri Bahar from the Kafi thaat and Bagkauns from the Aasavari thaat, as

and when needed, flowing in between related raags with ease and facility.

Madam Ji sang some seemingly vulgar and naughty songs for Punjabi movies

which became controversial. I once asked her about these songs and the reason

for her not having refused to sing

them. "Na, main kyun naa kardi," she

said in Punjabi. "Main roti nain

khaani?" She told me that, based on

the demands of the characters in the

movie, she sang all types of song much

the same way actors played both

heros and villains. She added that one

can and should only criticize her choice in

songs based on musical merit. "Je

main besura gaawan, ya betaala

gaawan, fer gal karo." Indeed, no

matter how dirty the words were, her

singing was pure and spotless. A good

example is the song, Kuj Phi Gai Ae,

Thori Paat Gai Ae, from Dada (1977)

composed by Madam Ji's dear friend Tafu in raag Darbari. The lyrics of the song

were deemed so offensive by the Censor Board that Madam had to re-record the

song with a different, more acceptable, asthai. Of course, the singing in both

versions was flawless and all demands of Darbari were met with fidelity. Nothing

could touch the purity of Madam Ji's music. On another occasion, she said, "I am

not frigid. I have emotions and feelings. When I see an attractive man, I have a

strange gudgudi in my stomach. I have naughty feelings. I am not afraid of sharing

them through my music. I have the courage, guts and honesty to do that. I am

afraid of no one. Other singers, who act proper and innocent, are either

hypocrites or lack feelings. I know the truth about all of them!"

Noor Jehan was a wonderful and indulgent mother. As a daughter, she supported

her family for as long as

needed. A great sister, she

paid for the treatment of

her mentally challenged

brothers for as long as they

were alive. She was a

dutiful and devoted wife to

both her husbands. As a

mistress, she was a true

enchantress. Noor Jehan

was a seductress, indulgent yet playful, as a lover. She knew how to love and how

to be loved. She was a dutiful shagird who supported her Ustad and his entire

family for most of their lives and an Ustad who faithfully tied a ganda to only one

but a talented student - Tarranum Naaz. She had led the life of a mother, a

daughter, a sister, a

student, a teacher and

a friend and led it

honestly. She had

keenly observed the

dynamics of each

relationship and

experienced the entire

spectrum of emotions

involved with these

relationships. She had

felt them all. The

understanding of emotions and the intensity with which she maintained all of her

relationships added a unique - and incomparable - dimension to her singing.

Madam Ji had an elephantine memory. I remember her picking up new tunes

composed by music directors in minutes. They only had to sing the song for her

once. "Pehli baar gana aapka hai," she would say. "Phir Mera."

Madam Ji did not believe in forgiving and forgetting. And even when she forgave,

she did not forget. She once saw my

interview of Tahira Syed in a magazine

and asked me how the "lamay taun

wali" was doing. She had heard

(Madam Ji heard everything) that her

marriage to Naeem Bukhari was on

the rocks. "I wanted her to be my

daughter in law. A long time ago, I

asked Pukhraj for her hand but instead

or agreeing gladly, she started playing

games. I would have treated Tahira like my own daughter but she didn't want to

marry my son. Now she is in a terrible marriage. I hope she is happy."

Firdaus stole the one love - Ejaz - Madam Ji cherished more than all others in her

life. A few years later, when failure, nature and drugs

took Firdaus' youth and Ejaz away, she went to

Madam Ji's home to beg for forgiveness. She sat at

her feet for a long time and started crying. When

Madam Ji forgave her, her crying became louder and

she could not control herself. Exhausted by her

crying, and relieved of her guilt, Firdaus soon fell

asleep on the carpet. Madam Ji left her on the carpet,

went to another room, brought back a blanket and

covered Firdaus with it. She then turned the lights off

and left the room. Firdaus had told her that her guilt

did not allow her to sleep at night. She wanted

Firdaus to finally sleep peacefully. When Madam Ji forgave, she really did.

Noor Jehan created artistic truth in front of the microphone using her memories

to express emotion and feeling.

Stanislavski's method was best

employed by Noor Jehan while

preparing to sing. She would get into

the right mood and requisite frame of

mind for a song well before starting to

sing and sometimes take hours after

the singing to return to her normal

self. Noor Jehan was a master of raag

and taal, gifted with a brilliant voice, a

broad vocal range and remarkable tonal quality. She had a great knowledge of

music and was a master of both aakaar and alankaar. Yet none of these qualities

made her Malika E Tarranum; it was her unique ability to add emotion, feeling

and sentiment to her music that made her the greatest singer of her and,

perhaps, all times. No other singer - not even the great Kundan Lal Saigal - has

ever been able to match the emotional veracity of Noor Jehan's songs. No one.

Noor Jehan had a great magnetism in her personality. Always the center of

attention, the life of the party, she held most people in awe with her beauty,

voice, social skills, wit and a naughty innocence.

I interviewed Pandit Shiv Kumar Sharma for a

monthly publication many years ago. Among other

things, I asked him about musicians from Pakistan.

Noor Jehan was the only one he wanted to talk

about. Pandit Ji was not just enamored by her

musical prowess but was also a fan of persona and

presence. He told me that he wanted all other

sound to stop when Noor Jehan's songs were

playing so he could listen intently. He reminisced

about a dinner party at poet Zehra Nigah's flat in

London where Noor Jehan was the guest along with Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia,

Ustad Shuakat Hussain Khan, Ustad Sultan Khan and several other senior

musicians who were in London to record for

Navras Records. After dinner, Madam Ji chose

to sing for the guests and started by singing

Faiz Ahmad Faiz’s poetry using the dining table

for percussion. She followed with a khayal in

raag Jaijaivati singing the bandish, Binti Ka

Kariye, made famous by her Ustad Bade

Ghulam Ali Khan. She ended the evening with

the thumri, Gori Tore Nainan Kaajar Bin Kaare.

Her rendition of the thumri in Pilu lasted over

an hour. Pandit Shiv Kumar Sharma

remembers the night well. “Some of the

biggest names in music sat at the dining table

listening to Noor Jehan all night, with rapt attention, “ he told me. “She kept us

entranced for hours. Her Pilu brought tears to our eyes. The quality of her voice,

the sangat of the komal Gandhar and tivar Nikhad, and the roohdari touched my

heart. One does not hear such singing often. ”

Noor Jehan loved to visit London. She loved shopping for Sari's at Selfridges,

meeting touring musicians from India, eating at the Shezan restaurant at Cheval

Place, and generally enjoying the city's

bright summers. Exceedingly beautiful

daughter, Zil E Huma, still remembers

how Madam Ji used to get excited just

before the plane landed at Heathrow.

"Haaaye Huma, London aa gaya ae,"

she would exclaim. Unfortunately. not

all her trips to London were made for

pleasure. She visited the city several

times to help bail her ex husband, Ejaz Durrani, out of trouble he got himself into

by trying to smuggle contraband drugs into the United Kingdom. And while Ejaz

never did anything to earn her love, Noor Jehan had never gotten over her

feelings for Ejaz. During one such visit, she was particularly depressed and asked

Ghulam Ali and Ustad Tari Khan, who were touring, to pay her a visit. She wanted

to listen to good music and promised to cook for them. Tari Khan told me that

Noor Jehan had prepared Qorma, But Karelay and Aaloo Ki Bhujia for them. "I

remember the food even today," Tari Khan told me. "I don't think I will ever

forget her cooking. She made chappatis for us herself. Just before serving Bhujia,

she cooked some whole spices without oil in the frying pan and then crushed

them after tying them in a napkin. She then covered the Bhujia with the spices

and covered the dish so that the aroma of the spices would sink into the potatoes

which she had cut into very small pieces, and cooked in a way that their insides

were soft and the outsides crisp. I have

never had something as delicious in my

life. I am not just a fan of her singing but

also of her cooking. I will forget Noor

Jehan's cooking only when I forget tabla."

After the dinner, Ghulam Ali sang for Noor

Jehan with Tari Khan on the tabla. A few

hours later she decided to sing. She picked

Nisar Bazmi's composition from Meri

Zindagi Hai Naghma, Tera Kisi Pe Aaye Dil.

During the third antara, Madam Ji broke

down and started crying uncontrollably.

Ghulam Ali, Tari Khan and her companion,

Achi Mian, all failed to console her and she

left the room and retreated to her bedroom. A full thirty minutes later, she

emerged from her room, having refreshed her make-up, and asked them, "Tussi

Dasso, Kehra Gaana Suno Ge?" All of them started laughing, spending the rest of

the night singing and sharing anecdotes and jokes. She was emotional,

temperamental and sensitive, but always in control.

Noor Jehan held Faiz Ahmed Faiz in very high regard. She canceled her recordings

to visit him at his residence after he returned home after a protracted period of

incarceration to celebrate with him and their friend, Sanjan Nagar's Raza Kazim.

Faiz Saab asked Noor Jehan to sing some of his poetry for him and Raza Kazim

seized the opportunity to record her without any musical

instruments and equalization, just her pure voice. Raza

Kazim recounted the events of the evening for me when

we met years later at a wedding at the Islamabad

Marriott and very graciously shared his recording with

me a few days later. Faiz Saab kept picking poems for

Noor Jehan to compose on the spot and sing for him,

that evening. Mujh Se Pehli Si Muhabbat, Aaj Ki Raat,

Donon Jahan Teri Muhabbat Main Haar Ke, Aa Ke

Wabasta Hain, and many other poems were sung by

Noor Jehan for the first time that day. A few hours of music, poetry recitation,

food, and drink later, all three were high on Cherry Brandy when Noor Jehan

started to sing her famous Punjabi song, Ve Mundiya Sialkotiya, flirting innocently

with the newly released and young Faiz Ahmed Faiz who, of course, hailed from

Sialkot. Only Madam Ji could do this with class!

Noor Jehan was a woman of great wit and sense of humor. Known for her ability

to tell jokes - mostly ones that were off color - she

could hold her own in serious conversations as well.

When hurt, she could be caustic and vicious but

generally her touch was warm and kind. Madam Ji

recorded her famous national song in Bhairavi, Ae

Puttar Hattan Te Nain Wikde, with two great

musicians - Ustad Nazim Ali Khan on sarangi and

Ustad Miyan Shaukat Hussain Khan on tabla. The

recording session was long. The musicians, the poet,

and Madam Ji were all overcome with emotions

during the recording owing to the power of the lyrics

and the general national mood at the time. They

could not think straight. Recording the song was difficult. Madam Ji, who was

known for recording songs in one take, needed more than twenty that day. She

would invariably break down when singing the verse, Tan Bhaag Ne Behn

Bharawan De Jinnan Godiyan Veer Khidae Ne. In certain takes, the musicians

would start crying and the recording had to be stopped.

The final take took place late in the evening and

everyone was jubilant about its quality. Shaukat Saab,

on the other hand, was quieter than usual and visibly

sad. His first wife had not been able to bear him any

children and he was far too much of a gentleman to

consider a second marriage. He did not have an heir.

Madam Ji knew why Shaukat Saab was sad. She walked

up to him, grabbed his wrist, and asked him to come

home with her. "What's the big deal," she said in

Punjabi. "Let's go home and make babies." This made

the great Ustad who known for his shyness around women - he had trouble

playing with Farida Khanum due to her low necklines - smile. "God has never

turned down my prayer," she added in a more serious town. "I will pray for you."

A few years later, our Wadde Ustani Ji convinced the reluctant Shaukat Saab to

marry for the second time. Choti Ustani Ji bore him three (3) sons and four (4)

daughters..

The recording of Sufi Tabbasum's Mera Sohna Shehr Qasur Nin was done in the

presence of the highly respected poet. The song

turned out to be a magical number and the

musicians suggested that they all go to Qasur to

celebrate. This was during the unfortunate 1965

war between India and Pakistan. Madam Ji did

not want the celebration in Qasur and told Sufi

Saab that she could not risk visiting her

hometown with him because of the fear of

bombing. "You have nothing to lose," she joked

with him. "But I am a respectable woman. I can't afford to be found buried under

the rubble with you!"

In 1989, I decided to do a detailed and comprehensive interview of Madam Ji. I

called her to set the interview up and was surprised when she immediately

agreed to sitting down and talking to me about her life and her music. She did not

give me a date and time but asked that I call her in a few days to make an

appointment. I did just that a few days later and many times subsequently.

Madam Ji always answered her phone herself and always had a good excuse to

postpone the interview she had promised. I asked film actor Muhammad Ali to

help me secure the interview. He immediately called Madam Ji who told him that

she herself wanted to sit down with me but had been busy. She promised

Muhammad Ali to call me herself with a date and time. She never did. I was far

too young and far too much in love with Madam Ji to give up, and enlisted

television actor Azmul Haq's help to get me the interview I wanted. He and I

visited Madam Ji's near Liberty market at two in the morning. Her home was alive

and bustling with activity even at that hour. There were several guests sitting on

the floor in a room next to the dining room eating a late dinner. Daughter Tina

and her friends were planning a trip to Peshawar to buy clothes and kept asking

Madam Ji for more money, ten grand at a time. Several young maidservants were

sleeping on the floor all around the house. Madam Ji's companion, Acchi Mian,

kept bringing saris on hangers to help Madam Ji choose what she would wear the

following day. An older gentleman, dressed in a suit and wearing a necktie, sat in

the drawing room having tea and sandwiches , served elegantly from a well laid

dumbwaiter tea cart. And a few beggars kept

trying to enter the home and ask Madam Ji for

money. Madam Ji was at the center of this very

active, if somewhat chaotic, household and

paying attention to each and everyone. She

seemed to be in full control of all the activity in

her home and aware of all that was going on.

When Azmul Haq introduced me, she told him

that she already knew me well and had been

planning on sharing the story of her life with me

for some time. She turned to me and said,

"Mujhe maaf karna beta. Life is very busy. Main

chahti hun ke aap jaise parhe likhay naujawan

ke sath interview karoon magar waqt nahin

milta." She promised an interview within the month. The interview never

materialized and in August that year, I left Pakistan for the United States. When I

called her to say goodbye, she was very kind. "Beta, wahan ja kar mehnat karna,

maan baap ko khush rakhna, mulk ki izzat barhana." she said. "Do not forget us

when in the United States. Hum ab wahan aa kar tumhein interview denge." She

never did.

Madam Ji

Documents

Transcript of Madam Ji