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That evening, that voice
WHEN NAWAB F.K. Sherwani's eldest daughter got married, his friend, the Chawalwala Nawab, invited Suraiya to sing, but she couldn't make it to the wedding of Farhana Begum, much to the disappointment of her admirers. That was in the 1940s. Later one was fortunate to hear the legendary singer. That function is a fading memory now but not the screening of "Anmol Ghadi", two years later by Daniel Sahib.
He put up the screen against the convent wall, and it being a summer evening, people spread their cots to hear and see Suraiya, along with Noor Jahan, the senior of the two reigning screen beauties. Suraiya had become a magical name by then and everybody in Delhi was talking about her golden voice that could sway not only the music-loving rajas and nawabs but also the hoi polloi. "Iski zaban mein mithas hai," commented 80-year-old Keti Ba, the ex-gardener of the church compound. Jajja Bua agreed. Each scene of the film drew remarks galore and sometimes when the scenes got hectic, Master Sahib tried to interpret them to those who kept getting puzzled by the sequence of events. Jummi Bua found it difficult to control her son Puttan who, like any mischievous schoolboy, kept fidgeting with his mother's sari or tried to pull his sister's hair. He, however, began to concentrate on the film when the fighting scene commenced.
In those day films did not have "Dhishum, Dhishum" stuff. Here was a fight with a knife until the Pehalwan sprang up and wrested it from the villain's hand. When the film ended people picked up their cots and went home, but they kept talking about Suraiya and Noor Jahan for a week after that. More than 50 years later one had the chance to see the legendary actress again, when she came to receive the Sahitya Akademi award in 1998. That was a glimpse of a much-mellowed Suraiya. But she still looked pretty though approaching 70. The wrinkles were hidden under a lavishly rouged face, the hair had been dyed, except for a straying grey one here and there, but the almond eyes were still sparkling and full of life. She conversed in a low voice and declined to sing, saying she had left "mosiqui years ago". What an evening of old memories it was! Nawab Faiyaz Khan was long dead, so also his eldest daughter and her husband, S.K. Sherwani. The Chawalwala Nawab did not die a natural death: he had shot his begum in a fit of anger in the 1950s and was hanged on the clinching evidence of his only son. Suraiya did not speak much about Noor Jahan (nor of Lata Mangeshkar) but from the little she said it was evident she held her in high esteem.
They were both from undivided Punjab - Noor Jahan from Kasur (which was to become such an issue during the Indo-Pak war of 1971) and Suraiya from Lahore, where her uncle Zahoor, the ace villain of the silver screen in the 1930s and `40s was able to win her parents' approval to become a child actor. Though Suraiya did not speak about Dev Anand that December day, one still remembers the limerick, "Chhai bahar hai/Jiya beqarar hai/Aa ja mere Dev Anand, Suraiya bemar hai".
And when one remembers Suraiya can Noor Jahan be forgotten? When she came to Delhi in the 1980s, 35 years after leaving for Pakistan along with her husband, Shauqat Hussain, one had a chance to see her at close quarters. The glamour girl of yesteryears, despite her many engagements in Delhi, found time to visit the Dargah of Hazrat Qutubuddin Bakhtiar Kaki and the shrine of Hazrat Nizamuddin Aulia. Tradition has it that one should visit Hazrat Qutubuddin's mazar first and other shrines afterwards. Even Khwaja Moinuddin Chishti had ordained that the devotee must first pay homage to Qutub Sahib and then come to his dargah.
So, Noor Jahan, accompanied by her pretty daughter, Hina, and her husband, Haroon Butt, went to this mazar first. At Nizamuddin's Dargah Noor Jahan offered a chadar and stood praying with palms open for blessings. As per tradition, the actress left for Ajmer on a Friday to seek the blessings of the greatest Muslim saint of the East, without a visit to whose shrine no trip to India is complete for the true devotee. Noor Jahan's golden voice still resounds in the mind - "Awaz de kahan hai", interspersed with Suraiya's "Nuqta chin hain gham-e-dil", which brought out the very soul of Ghalib on her honeyed tongue.
When one hears those strains, it appears as though it's Suraiya's tresses and not the tree leaves that are swaying in the evening breeze. So close she seems - and yet so far!
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Metro Plus
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