The Man, the Music, the Memories...
25th
September, 1955 – 8th April, 2007
My fascination
with Asad Amanat Ali began with this particular video, in which he sings
probably his most popular song- 'Umran
Langiyan'
I am always
captivated by the whole aura of his personality as he renders it... Here is a
singer who is aware of his mastery over his singing, yet sings without
arrogance. He wields a magical power over his audience… hypnotizes them, and
indulges them with little treats that he knows will delight them. He playfully
engages with the accompanying musicians, his handsome countenance glowing with
joy as he sings and displays his mastery over the rhythm Occasionally he
dives deep into his artistic repertoire and pulls out enchanting little
nuances … like a diver who explores the depth of the ocean and brings out the
beautiful pearls hidden in it…
The song is
written by Mazhar Tirmazi, who remembers Asad in an interview as-Khush Mijaaz and Khush Shakal… of a happy attitude and a happy demeanor In the
same interview he mentions the special connection that Asad had with this song-
“He sung many songs,” says Tirmazi, “but his soul lay in this song.” He also
laments the fact that the potential and the promise that Asad’s talent had
could never be fully fulfilled
Asad died
young…he was only 52 when he passed away on this very day, 6 years ago in
London.
Always missed
by fans and family… “Ghar waapas jab
Aaogey tum, Kaun tumhe Pehchaney ga, Kaun Kahega….Tum bin Ye nagari sunsaan”
Shafqat remembers his elder
brother very fondly, as a very caring, loving brother, someone who valued
relationships; a person who provided not just for his own but also the extended
family, someone who kept everyone together.
In an interview on Asad’s first
death anniversary Shafqat mentions how in their family the youngsters always
maintain a respectful distance from the elders. Asad was almost 13 years older
than Shafqat but he was always approachable- “There was a bridge which could always be crossed to reach to him in
case of any problem or need.” He recalls a particular incident where he was
was short of some money to buy a place for a studio. Asad sensed this and sent
him the money even without his asking. When the very grateful Shafqat went to
return some of the money back after sometime, Asad refused to accept it and
reprimanded him lovingly - “Have you made too much money? Have you become that
big?”
Shafqat and Asad came together
only once to sing. It was a song of their father, Amanat Ali, that they sang
together for album, which was a tribute to the late ustaad.
Shafqat had immense respect for
his elder brother as a singer but the fact that they both very heavily
influenced by their father’s singing and had similar singing styles is what
prevented them from collaborating more often. Shafqat admits, though, that he
learnt a lot from his brother. He always looked up to him as a role model and
tried to emulate the way he dressed, the way he did his riyaaz, and even the way he dealt with people.
Asad’s formal debut as a singer
happened for a PTV program called Nikhar where he teamed up with his uncle,
Hamid Ali (more of a peer and friend as they were of the same age group) and
sang Raag Malkauns. It was Ustad Fateh Ali Khan who had suggested that they get
together and sing as a Jodi. Asad reminiscences in a mehfil, “It was because he felt that I resembled Baba
(Ustad Amanat Ali Khan) and Hamid resembled him (Fateh Ali Khan) and he wanted
us to recreate the magic that they had spun as a musical team.”
And this pair too, wove magic.
Hamid Ali recalls one of their early performances where they sang with the then
Indian Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi, in the audience. She was impressed and is
said to have complimented them by saying that the duo looked like a Ram –Laxman Jodi.
The Jodi was however not meant to be forever and due to differences the
two had to part ways. Asad went solo and also began to foray more into the
lighter forms of singing because he felt that they were more appreciated by the
new generation audiences who neither had the taste nor the patience to appreciate
the classical music in its purest forms. But he felt hurt if he was considered
a lesser singer just because of the fact that he was singing other genres. In
an interview with Ally Adnan he says…
“It is true that I have trained in classical music, but that is the only
type of training a singer can have.You cannot train someone in light music.I
have very sound training in classical music and I use that to sing all types of
music….If I am to be judged I should be judged on the quality of my singing,
not by the genre I choose to sing”
He sang Ghazals and his uniquely
textured voice- slightly grainy, slightly nasal with a melodious tinkle, made
them memorable. He loved films and Shafqat remembers his fondness for them and
how he would sometimes bunk his riyaaz to watch a movie. So it was a sweet
coincidence that he sang several songs for Pakistani films and was quite a
popular playback singer through the 80’s, but in his own words “the charm (to sing in films) wore off very soon”
One of his favorite Ghazals, and
mine too…
And another favorite in Punjabi…
A song from from a Pakistani film
His singing training, which began with
his often “cursing himself for being born
into a family of musicians who didn't let him do anything but sing” when as
a child he had to wake up at 6 in the morning for his riyaaz, progressed to
practicing for up to 18 hours a day so that he could “live up to the expectations of everyone and deserve being called the
son of Amanat Ali Khan” and culminated in music becoming the “most important thing in his life”. He
was awarded the “Pride of Performance”
the highest civilian- award in Pakistan for his contribution to music just a
couple of weeks before his death.
He often ended performances with
this song written by the poet Ibn-e-Insha and originally sung and popularized
by his father. He saved it for the last because he would be so emotional after
singing it that he couldn't carry on. He died young, just like the poet, and
his own father, and thus, became a part of a legend and also a superstition
associated with the song…
For me,
Asad is, and shall always be, the joy of music, personified. I am pretty sure
he must be busy singing happily in mehfils in the heavens above with the angels
applauding.
……
Special thanks
to Ally Adnan who shared an interview that he had done with Asad in 1989, from
which I have quoted extensively J
