Talat Mahmood and the magic of a tremolo

Lahje bayaan kar dete hain logon ke 

Parvarish hui hai ya sirf paale gaye hain 

(The manner of talking reveals people’s background 

Whether they’ve been properly brought up or they just grew up). 

This Urdu couplet of an unknown describes Lucknow-born Talat Mahmood whose demeanour and dignified appearance added to his singing prowess. One of the connotations of the name Talat is appearance/countenance. Circumstances in an individual’s life often work in a confluence to create something unforgettable. This happened in Talat’s life. Hailing from a distinguished family in Lucknow with a fine appearance, exceptional command of Urdu and a sonorous voice, Talat was tailor-made for singing and acting, though he didn’t succeed in acting as much as he did in singing. All great singers have an inimitable trait to their voices. Kishore had yodelling, Rafi had an effortless crescendo. Mukesh had a plaintive depth and Talat had a quiver in his voice. In fact, a tremor in his voice which would have been considered a fault, proved an asset to Talat.  

Woh larazati-si aawaaz, woh
alfaaz ka jaadu  

Koi farishta gungunaya hai door vaadiyon mein 

(That quivering voice and the
magic of words. 

It seems, an angel whispered in
far away valleys.)

The tremendous effect of the velvety voice conveyed the urge and intensity of emotions which marked his individuality. He was known as melody king and the king of ghazals. A man of few words, the laconic singer didn’t churn out songs. He was very choosy and classy. That’s why, Talat sang approximately 750 songs in 12 languages spread over four decades (1940s to 1980s). Those who go by numbers and not by nuances may say that Talat didn’t even sing 1,000 songs. But then, every song that he sang is ineradicable from the collective consciousness of listeners and connoisseurs. Whether it was ‘Humse aaya na gaya’ (‘Dekh Kabira Roya’, 1957), ‘Jayein toh jayein kahan’ (‘Taxi Driver’, 1954), ‘Tasveer banata hoon’ (‘Baradari’, 1955), ‘Dil-e-naadaan tujhe hua kya hai (‘Mirza Ghalib’, 1954), ‘Shaam-e-gham ki qasam’ (‘Footpath’, 1953), ‘Jalte hain jiske liye ‘ (‘Sujata’, 1959), ‘Meri yaad mein tum na’ (‘Madhosh’, 1951), ‘Phir wahi shaam wahi gham ‘ (‘Jahan Ara’, 1964) or ‘Ae mere dil kahin aur chal ‘ (‘Daagh’, 1952).

One of the finest songs of Talat, ‘Ashkon ne jo paaya hai’ from ‘Chaandi Ki Deewar’ (1964) is often mentioned as a quintessential song depicting the angst of the creator and performer. Sahir Ludhianvi penned it and N Datta (Datta Naik) composed this most poignant number. The couplet in this song: ‘Hum phool hain auron ke liye laye hain khushboo/ Apne liye le-de-ke bas ek daagh mila hai (I’m a flower that has brought fragrance for all/ But I’ve kept just a scar for myself). This aptly illustrates the life of Talat, who spread fragrance through his songs and slowly faded away when the advent of rock-n-roll in the late 1960s sidelined singers like him.

Talat’s velvety vocals posed a special challenge to the music-composers, most of whom leaned towards the deep baritones of Mohammed Rafi and Mukesh. The resultant demise of Talat’s movie career led to the decline of his singing career. At the same time, the social changes and (relative) happiness brought about by increasing prosperity in India meant that blue mood ghazals and heart-rending ballads were not popular any longer. Talat continued to record good songs, albeit less in number. He once told an interviewer, “Shikwon aur shikayaton mein zindagi raaygaan nahin ki maine” (I didn’t waste my life in complaints and grievances). He indeed didn’t waste his life sulking and whining, he sang till he breathed his last. Music was Talat’s muse. It was his Minerva. Let’s remember the great singer and an equally great human on his 100th birth anniversary.