Apni apni pasand hai apna apna khayaal hai
Posted on: July 31, 2016
This article is written by Raja, a fellow enthusiast of Hindi movie music and a regular contributor to this blog. This article is meant to be posted in atulsongaday.me. If this article appears in sites like lyricstrans.com and ibollywoodsongs.com etc then it is piracy of the copyright content of atulsongaday.me and is a punishable offence under the existing laws.
31st July is a date that immediately makes a connect with many Hindi film music lovers. Young or old, many of them associate it with one and only one event – the passing of Mohammad Rafi.
Or, as he is respectfully referred to by many, including myself, Rafisaab.
Yes, it is that date today.
Today, it is 36 years since Rafisaab left all of us. He was just 55, when he passed away on that fateful day in 1980.
On this blog, we pay our respects and tribute to him every 31st July. It is our way of showing how much he means to us.
Speaking for myself, although I’m not a prolific writer here, I do try to write a post here on at least two dates of the year – 24th December and 31st July.
Rafisaab’s birth and death anniversary dates.
This is the very least I can do for him. It is nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to what Rafisaab has given me. If I write ten thousand posts for Rafisaab, thanking him in each one, I will still not be anywhere close to expressing adequately what I owe him in terms of sheer joy and bliss he has given me through that divine voice of his.
And I think I speak for millions of his fans.
I listen to his songs day in and day out. His famous ones, his not-so-famous ones. It just doesn’t matter.
In fact, I tend to listen to his not-so-famous songs more.
An aside.
The way I see it, fame is a function of many contributing factors – it can be deceptive. Many a famous song (of any singer) makes me wonder what’s special about it. Conversely, many a gem has gone unappreciated by the masses and has been left languishing with passage of time. (It must be said our blog has given many such songs a new lease of life).
So, I think it’s far more important, for a music lover, to just enjoy a song, without caring about its “box-office” success. “Box office” is for the artistes and those affected by its commercial success or failure.
And that’s why I just love listening to not-so-famous songs. Of any singer. It is a discovery process – I hope I discover a gem somewhere.
Ok, back to Rafisaab.
There’s a lot one can write about him. Reams and reams. And, as we know, reams have been written.
I have no intention of adding to it, without adding anything in substance.
I would therefore just like to reflect on my own relationship with Rafisaab – especially on how it evolved and got to where it is today. Tributes, in any case, are often personal – and, if you will allow me, I will roll the years back a bit. About 40 years, to be more precise.
By the way, I’ve discussed much of this before on this blog, so my excuses to those of you who’ve heard this before. Am hoping it is new for some readers at least.
And I never tire of thinking of those times – and smiling at how the legend, Rafisaab, wove his way into my heart.
So I’m going back to the mid-70s. And to a life with no internet. And yes, living in a remote township , with no access to music stores. No Rhythm House or even a small music store that you can go to, to even know more about a song, let alone buy the disc, or cassette.
All music I got to hear was only on the radio. Or from the films I used to watch (about one a week).
Listening to the radio was great. (Not that I had alternatives). But yes, even otherwise, it was great. It was always fun to listen to the announcement preceding a song – the names of singer /lyricist / composer and guess the film. And on hearing the name of the film, guess the song. You’d often get disappointed when it wasn’t the song you wanted to hear. (The number of times “chingari koi bhadke” disappointed me, because I wanted to hear either “ye kya hua” or “kuchh to log kahenge”!).
I digress (as usual).
The biggest disadvantage was, of course, that you had no control over what was coming. So if I heard a song and absolutely loved it, great – but I had no way of listening to it again. I just had to hope that somebody from Jhumri Tilaiya or Rajnandgaon, together with his/her friends, Chunnu and Munnu, and their Mummy and Papa would want to hear that song sometime, when I was tuned in.
The other thing was the era.
Anybody of the 70s (especially the first half) will tell you how dominant Kishore Kumar was. He towered over every other male singer to such an extent that radio programmes airing “current” songs, would barely have a male voice other than Kishore’s. There was the odd Yaadon Ki Baaraat or Zanjeer song to get another male voice in, but these were few and far between.
My other source of songs was my school, 30 km away from where I lived. Many of my classmates were also interested in songs, but it was invariably only the latest ones. So guess what? Kishore.
It was Kishore everywhere I looked.
And I’ll admit I was very fond of Kishore myself. I still am.
I had heard of Mohammad Rafi (he wasn’t Rafisaab for me then). But, if I’m brutally honest, it was not particularly charitably. Certainly not amongst my age group. We knew Mohammad Rafi had been the leading singer in Hindi movies before Kishore took over. So, without even knowing or hearing Rafisaab, in our young judgmental minds, we had already judged them both. To us, Kishore was the star, Mohammad Rafi was a has-been. A yesteryear singer.
I know it sounds horrible – but we were still barely into our teens (maybe not even!) and we were about as nuanced (and judgmental) as Arnab.
So here I was, totally Kishorified.
And then, one day, on Vividh Bharti’s 1.00-1.30 p.m programme (yes, I still remember it!), I hear a song.
I’d never heard it before.
It was “O duniya ke rakhwaale”.
Right from the moment I heard “bhagwan….bhagwan…bhagwan”, the song held my attention. And that’s putting it mildly. I was transfixed. As I listened to the voice, I felt it was coming out from the depth of the singer’s soul, making an appeal from there, crying “ab to neer baha le”.
Long after the song was over, it remained in my subconscious.
Until then I’d mostly heard Kishore songs. But even Kishore’s sad songs, soulful and soft though they were – and I loved them – didn’t have this “crying from depth of soul” sense. Some Mukesh songs, yes, but I immediately sensed I had just heard something special.
The announcer made the necessary announcement – and I realized this was Muhammad Rafi. Or rather, THIS was Muhammad Rafi.
For the first time, I realized what a singer he was. And how silly I (and my friends) had been in judging him without ever having really listened to any of his songs properly.
That was a moment of revelation for me.
The same programme had another Rafisaab song. The duet “parbaton ke pedon par” from Shagun (1964). I fell instantly in love with this song. Not only was Khayyam’s composition outstanding but Rafisaab’s voice was measured and magical. I’d just heard him screaming his lungs out a few minutes ago, now I get to listen to him singing a soft, romantic song perfectly in tune with the moment.
From that day on, I became a Rafisaab fan. Not that my love for Kishore Kumar diminished in any way. I continued to love his songs – and still do.
But that was the day I learnt a lesson. About not judging. Especially not without knowing enough.
After that, I’d listen to Rafisaab much more. Till then I’d listen a lot to “current” songs but now I wanted to listen to older songs. To broaden my horizons. I remember Chhaya Geet, at 10 in the evening, was perfect for this purpose.
I remember listening to “suhani raat dhal chuki”, “caravan guzar gaya”, “ye teri saadgi”, “jaane kya dhoondhti rehti hain”, “hum bekhudi mein”, “ek dil ke tukde hazaar hue”, “dil mein chhupa ke pyar ka toofan le chale”, “khoya khoya chand” and many more Rafisaab songs on Chhaya Geet.
Everytime I listened to him, my admiration and respect for him only grew. For a long time, I felt guilty for having judged him harshly.
When Amar Akbar Anthony became a huge hit – and Rafisaab’s “parda hai parda” became hugely popular – I was very happy for him. I think there was still that lingering guilt within me somewhere. I was happy that, in this Kishore mania, Rafisaab had still literally managed to get his voice heard.
Soon, Hum Kisise Kam Nahin happened. And Rafisaab was right back in the public mindspace.
He continued to have hits. Songs of Sargam, Jaani Dushman, Karz, Abdullah and many more.
And then, all of a sudden, he was gone.
I was in college when I heard the news. I, like millions of others around the country, was stunned.
As the years went by, I’d listen more and more to old Hindi film music. My appreciation for music of yesteryear grew tremendously. And the more I listened to Rafisaab’s voice, the more I marveled at it. And the more I realized how silly I’d been all those years ago.
I also got to know more about Rafisaab, the person. And I was just amazed to hear about what a gem of a human being he was. Ok, so nobody’s perfect and I am sure he had his flaws too – but there’s hardly a person who knew him, who does not think highly of him as a person, let alone artiste. People talk about his kindness, his gentleness, his humility, his helpful nature.
All these thoughts come back to me today, on his death anniversary. I also feel, maybe, just maybe, there’s still that little bit of guilt within me, after all these years. Maybe these birth and death anniversary posts are a form of atonement or reparations.
Khair.
I will now move on to the song for today.
I have picked this song for 3 reasons.
The first reason is obvious – it is a Rafisaab song.
The second reason is the film name. The moment I saw this Rafisaab song on youtube, from this film, I felt a special connect between me and Rafisaab. 🙂 Yes, I know it’s pathetic, but it does feel good even if it is just a cheap thrill. 🙂
The third reason is, the first line of this song reflects a bit of my philosophy towards co-existence in society.
Apni apni pasand hai, apna apna khayaal hai
Anyone who knows me a little, knows that one of my favourite lines is “to each his/her own”. I feel if we can just respect that people can have different views/preferences from ours, and don’t HAVE to agree with us all the time, we will have less grief in society. Just a thought.
I know nothing about this film Raja (1963). This is the second song of this film being posted here. The song is picturised on Jagdeep but other than that, I have nothing more to add on the film. Maybe knowledgeable readers can share more about this film with us.
I hope you enjoy this song by Rafisaab. The stanzas remind me of “baar baar dekho”.
P.S: I expected to be able to keep this post “short”. Atul has mentioned, as much, in his own post of today. Let’s just say, it’s a l-i-t-t-l-e longer than I expected it to be. 🙂
Audio
Video
Song-Apni apni pasand hai apna apna khayaal hai (Raja)(1963) Singer-Rafi, MD-S N Tripathi
Chorus
Lyrics
Apni apni pasand hai
apna apna khayaal hai
Kaun deewaana hai
kaun sayaana hai
Mushqil bada sawaal hai
Kamaal hai
A ha ha ha
aa aa aa aa
Ee hee hee hee
pum pum pum
O ho ho ho
Dooby dooby dooby dooby doo
Dooby dooby dooby dooby doo
Apni apni pasand hai
apna apna khayaal hai
Laka chika maka chika maka chika bhum pa
Rang jahaan ke maine saare dekhe
aa haa haa ha ha
Aise yahaan pe nazaare dekhe
haa ha ha ha
Din mein nikle sitaare dekhe
Ye na poochho ji kahaan
aa haa haa haa
Rang jahaan ke maine saare dekhe
Aise yahaan pe nazaare dekhe
Din mein nikle sitaare dekhe
Ye na poochho ji kahaan
Tauba hai meri jaan
Khole zubaan yahaan
Kiski bhala majaal hai
Kamaal hai
Apni apni pasand hai
apna apna khayaal hai
Kaun deewaana hai
ho kaun sayaana hai
Mushqil bada sawaal hai
Kamaal hai
A ha ha ha
pum pum pum
E hee hee hee
pum pum pum
O ho ho ho
Dooby dooby dooby dooby doo
Dooby dooby dooby dooby doo
Apni apni pasand hai
apna apna khayaal hai
Sun zara tu o khuda ke bande
Log bichhaate hain yahaan wo phande
Aankhon waale bhi ho jaayen andhe
Ye na poochho kis tarah
Sun zara tu o khuda ke bande
Log bichhaate hain yahaan wo phande
Aankhon waale bhi ho jaayen andhe
Ye na poochho kis tarah
Ban ke tamaasha jo
Dekhe tamaashe ko
Unka bura hi haal hai
Kamaal hai
Arrey apni apni pasand hai
apna apna khayaal hai
Kaun deewaana hai
kaun sayaana hai
Mushqil bada sawaal hai
Kamaal hai
A ha ha ha
pum pum pum
E hee hee hee
pum pum pum
O ho ho ho
Dooby dooby dooby dooby doo
Dooby dooby dooby dooby doo
Apni apni pasand hai
apna apna khayaal hai
Kaun deewaana hai
kaun sayaana hai
Mushqil bada sawaal hai
Kamaal hai
A ha ha ha
pa pa pa
E hee hee hee
pum pum pum
O ho ho ho
Dooby dooby dooby dooby doo
Dooby dooby dooby dooby doo
Dooby dooby dooby dooby doo
Dooby dooby dooby dooby doo
14 Responses to "Apni apni pasand hai apna apna khayaal hai"
July 31, 2016 at 9:32 am
Lovely post as usual, Raja. It was nice to hear (yet again) how you fell in love with Rafi saheb’s voice.
I remember we were cleaning wheat at home in Jamnagar when I became aware of Rafi Saheb’s death. (In those days we used to buy huge sacks of wheat, clean and store it in cannisters and get it ground fresh for our rotis. So all the women of the household would pitch in and clean the wheat free of any husk or small stones.)
It was sad to lose a great star like Mohammad Rafi who went too early. But it was a consolation to hear so many lovely songs by him as a tribute.
Maybe the best tribute we can pay to an artist, whether the art is painting, singing, acting or writing, is to appreciate their works as often as possible.
This blog does that beautifully by picking out lesser known songs by those singers and posting them.
When the singers were recording those songs they put in as much effort and skill into each song without worrying about its success. So it is nice to have even those less successful songs being celebrated here.
Thank you for the nice post, Raja. And thank you Atul, for allowing us to express our thoughts here and enjoy music.
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August 1, 2016 at 10:05 pm
Thanks, thandapani. Like you say, the best tribute we can pay to an artist is just to appreciate his/her work, whether it was commercially successful or not.
So you were cleaning wheat? I think many will remember what they were doing when they heard the news. It was one of those moments in India.
August 3, 2016 at 12:21 pm
Yes. Every time I am reminded of Rafi’s death anniversary, I am taken back to that scene. It is like a photograph. The radio on the table, my cousins shocked, but all of us going on with the job on hand.
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July 31, 2016 at 10:24 am
The lyricist could be Anand Bakshi or Prem Dhavan as other songs in the film are penned by them.
Shammi Kapoor would discussed with Rafi, the MDs when his song came up. During recording of ye chand sa roshan chehra, zulfo ka rang sunhera Shammi wanted the refrain(taarif karu kya uski) to be sung each time in different style but OP was wary of the idea. Rafi convince OP. And the result is there for us to enjoy the song.
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August 1, 2016 at 10:06 pm
I saw somewhere that the lyricist was Anand Bakshi but it wasn’t a reliable source, so until this is confirmed, we are leaving it as it is. Let’s see if we can get confirmation.
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July 31, 2016 at 1:32 pm
Raja ji,
What a delightful song ! This is the sort of song which gives the feeling of Eureka !. The other song posted in the blog is also a similar song wearing many hats –
https://atulsongaday.me/2012/03/03/pehle-aayee-murgi-ke-pehle-aaya-andaa/ .
These are also the songs where it seems as if many people are singing, but in actual fact only Rafi Sahab is singing without even any chorus.
Another fact about he above posted song is that Rafi Sahab is yoodling. I thought he had stopped the yoodling by 60’s.
About the write up, Radio days were too nice, even though I suffered the same disappointment , whenever the song ‘chingari koi bhadke’ would start playing instead of any other song from “Amar Prem” .
Thank you for finding this beauty where the Rafi sahab is doing the job as if a lot of singers are sharing the song with him.
Regards.
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August 1, 2016 at 10:08 pm
Thank you, Mrs. nahmji. Glad you liked the song.
Very good observation by you – that it seems multiple persons are singing but it’s only Rafisaab. And about the yodelling too.
As for “chingari koi bhadke”, I think I did the write-up here. It is still not my favourite song, I prefer the other two. But it was so popular, it would play all the time, much to my disappointment. 🙂
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July 31, 2016 at 4:08 pm
i had read this post as soon as it got posted,am yet to listen to even a single song today. feels like i am in akaal-grast region.
but ditto to everything Khyatiben and Thandapaniji have siad in their comment about you managing to make the deadline, post being more than 1000 words and your falling in love with the Rafisahab. and also ditto to your experience about listening to radio and guessing what song is going to come. but i will ditto to Nahmji after i hear the songs posted today. 🙂
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August 1, 2016 at 10:11 pm
So did you finally manage to listen to the song?
Am just glad I managed to do a write-up, considering I started at the very last minute (as usual). 🙂 Atul is always very kind towards me, he tolerates my last-minute shenanigans. This time, he even had internet problems but managed to post, using his backup facility.
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August 2, 2016 at 8:20 pm
agree with Mr Raja, Rafi is really a god of music. I heard a real life incident about Rafi’s special tea and how L-P were eager to just have a sip of the tea; i think he was also a good human being. Though he had a good rapport with O P Nayyar, there was a time when he fell out with him and his student Mahendra Kapoor sang the songs in – Kismat – 1967 – Biswajeet, Babita, Shaikh Mukhthar.
It is not that I don’t like Kishore but I didn’t like his yodelling. I think in the later years, Mr Raja, I missed Kishore’s soulful voice that had rendered numbers like – “Thandi hawa yeh chandni suhani”, “aa chalke tujhe main leke chaloon bas aise gagan ke tale” in inane numbers like ” maana maana maana main hoon mawali, meri har baath nirali”. Bappi Lahiri did gross injustice by making KK sing all those vulgar and 3rd rate songs which hardly qualify to be ear worms.
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August 2, 2016 at 8:32 pm
My top 10 list of Rafi songs :
1. Tum Jo Aao to pyar aa jaye, zindagi mein bahar aa jaye
2. Teri Galiyon Mein Na Rakhenge Kadam, Aaj ke baad
3. Ched Mere Hamrahi, Geet Koi Aisa
4. Main Jat Yamla Pagla Deewana O rabba ittisi baat na jana
5. Suhani Rat dal chuki
6. Mujhe teri mohabbat ka sahara mil gaya hotha, agar toofan
7. Yeh Asoo mere dil ki zuban hai
8. Teri Pyari Pyari soorath Ko, kisiki nazar na lage
9. Aye Gulbadan, phoolon ki mahak kaaton ki chuban, tujhe dekhke
10. Kahe Ko Bulaya Mujhe Baar Baar Pyar ke nam se
11. Chahoonga main tujhe saanj savere
12. Jab Jab bahar ayee aur phool muskaraye mujhe tum yaad aye
13. Aaj Ki Rat yeh kaisi rat, ke hum ko neend nahi aathi meri jaan
14.Jhilmil sitaraon ka angan hoga, rimjhim barastha sawan hoga
15. Kahin Ek Masoom, nazuk si ladki, bahut khoobsoorat magar sawli si, bahut khoobsoorat
16. Nazar ati nahin manzil tadapne se bhi kya hasil (this is from “Kaanch ki Deewar”, 1972 that was completely shot in Mysore; the movie is available in you tube and a pretty decent watch even though it is probably a C grade or D grade movie with little known actors…
17.Dil Ke Jharoke Mein Tujhko bitake
18.Yeh Chand sa roshan chehra, zulfon ka rang sunehra
19. Aaj purani yaadon se koi mujhe awaz na de
20. Na Tu Zameen KeLiye aur asman ke liye.. the 1972 film Dastan that paired Sharmila Tagore with Dilip Kumar for the first and last time
21. The famous Kawwali from “Dharma” – 1975 ; Raaz Ki baat kah doon tho jane mehfil mein phir kya
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Atul’s Song A Day- A choice collection of Hindi Film & Non-Film Songs 
July 31, 2016 at 9:16 am
So, you did manage to write a post of more than 100 words. I was sure when you write post on Rafi saab it’s impossible to limit with the number of words as you are a huge fan of him. Loved your selection of song and the movie. There are only few songs picturized of Jagdeep (wonder how many?) so this could be the fourth reason of selecting this song, I guess.
Thanks for the “short” post Rajaji. 🙂
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August 1, 2016 at 10:02 pm
Thanks, Khyatiben. Once I start, I don’t have control over what I write. I would be an editor’s nightmare. 🙂
The first song that comes to mind when I think of Jagdeep is “pas baitho tabeeyat behel jaayegi”. And of course “hum panchhi ek daal ke”.
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