A couple of years ago, the best singer in my close circle of friends, who also has a deep understanding of different genres of music as well, heard Shamshad Begum’s Kajra mohabbatwala akhiyon mein aisa dala on my iPod, and started dancing to the music. Enthralled, she said this song could give a run for its money to Kajrare kajrare tere kale kale naina , made so famous by Amitabh Bachchan and Aishwarya Rai in Bunty aur Babli .

I just smiled and thought about the number of magic melodies that this deeply gifted singer has given the Indian film industry. Mention Shamshad, who passed away in Mumbai on Wednesday at the age of 94, and that famous qawwali in K. F. Asif’s Mughal-e Azam, Teri mehfil mei kismet aazma kar hum bhi dekhengey, sung by Shamshad and Lata Mangeshkar, comes to mind. While Madhubala got Lata’s voice, the deeper, richer and more powerful voice with a nasal tone was filmed so appropriately on Nigar Sultana. Shamshad’s enthralling and regal voice gave that qawwali the right nuances…the socially superior Nigar scoffing at the slave girl Anarkali played by the stunningly beautiful Madhubala.

Lata was at her best in the movie, giving us memorable numbers such as Mohe panghat pe Nandalal chhed gayo re, Pyar kiya to darna kya, and Khuda nigehban ho tumhara . But Shamshad held her own against Lata.

The Shamshad magic

Shamshad Begum had woven her magic around me when I was a chit of a girl… with her lilting voice in Milte hi aankhen dil hua deewana kisika, sung with Talat Mehmood in Babul . The film was released before I was born, but my elder sister would listen to it in a trance on the radio and I was fascinated by it. And then it was, of course, pictured on Dilip Kumar… need one say more?

The music was composed by Naushad and the song Chhod babul ka ghar is much more famous, but the magic of Milte hi aankhen is something else. A similar and equally captivating song she sang in Mehboob Khan’s Mother India is Pee ke ghar aaj pyari dulhaniya chali .

This versatile singer has given Naushad many great melodies, including in Mughal-e-Azam , but it was O. P. Nayyar who saw Shamshad’s potential in delivering racy, fast-paced numbers and got from her superhit and evergreen songs for his unforgettable compositions such as Le ke pehla pehla pyar in Guru Dutt’s C.I.D .

This was sung with both Mohammed Rafi and Asha Bhonsle. But Nayyar’s closeness to Asha cost Shamshad dearly and while the music director’s energy, talent and influence were focussed on building Asha’s career, Shamshad’s journey in Hindi film music suffered.

But in the same film C.I.D , Shamshad gave us unforgettable numbers such as Boojh mera kya naam re and the absolutely delightful Kahi pe nigahei, kahi pe nishana…

The song Thandi hawa kali ghata sung by her and Geeta Dutt for Guru Dutt’s Mr and Mrs 55 is also a beautiful melody. Much before the nation swayed to Madhuri Dixit and Ek do teen , we had Cuckoo dancing to Shamshad’s Ek do teen, aaja mausam hei rangeen in Raj Kapoor’s Awara .

Meri neendo mein tum

And who can forget the absolutely romantic Meri neendo me tum mere khwabon mei tum , sung by Shamshad and Kishore Kumar and filmed on a young Kishore and an enchantingly beautiful Meena Kumari in Naya Andaaz ?

Lata Mangeshkar has tweeted eulogising the veteran singer. Bollywood grapevine has it that when Shamshad and Lata sang together a duet, while Lata would sing close to the mike, so powerful and full-throated was Shamshad’s voice that she had to stand nearly a foot away. It is both ironic and symbolic that while the Mangeshkar sisters’ careers flourished, that of Shamshad floundered because the patronage of important music directors went to these influential sisters.

Much later in 1968, it was again Nayyar who got Shamshad and Asha to sing the magic Kajra mohabbatwala in Kismat . Even though filmed on two of the worst possible actors in Bollywood-Babita and Biswajit — the song was a runaway hit and is remembered even today. And unlike many other veteran singers she had no problem with her hit songs being re-mixed; let the young people have fun, she would say.

One of her earlier melodies was Meri jaan meri jaan aana Sunday ke Sunday and then there was of course the evergreen Mere piya gaye Rangoon, kiya hei waha se telephoon . You just can’t listen to that number without jiving!

But gradually Shamshad, quiet and reclusive by disposition bowed out from the bitter and cut-throat politics of the Hindi film industry. In her last interview to Filmfare magazine two years ago, she wouldn’t bad-mouth anybody or express any bitterness. All she said was “ Bahut gandh ho gayi thi . (There was too much stench around.)”

Bows out from music politics

It was Shamshad’s music teacher who discovered the girl’s genius and encouraged her, and later, musician Ghulam Haider gave her a break. She was only 12 when she went for the audition and sang Bahadur Shah Zafar’s ghazal Mera yaar mujhe mile agar . So impressed was Haider that he gave her a contract for 12 songs and Rs 2 as tonga fare to boot!

During the late 1930s she sang for AIR in both Peshawar and Lahore. That interview quotes her: “Haider saab turned me into a professional. He’d say, ‘‘Accept offers from all composers. Learn their style; don’t impose your style on them. Be like the water which takes the shape of the glass.’”

But for her conservative father putting his foot down and threatening to even end her singing, the young woman might have even become a film star. When he refused to send her from Lahore to Bombay to sing for Mehboob Khan’s Taqdeer , the veteran director went to her house and ticked off the father: “You’ve made her a frog in a pond. Throw her into the ocean and she’ll learn to swim.”

A huge fan of K. L. Saigal, Shamshad recalled in that interview how she saw Devdas 14 times for the immortal song Balam aan baso mere man mein, and said, “Once I met Saigal saab while he was recording at Ranjit Studio. He said, ‘‘ To tu woh bala hai, teri awaaz mujhe badi pasand hai. (So you are that wench. I love your voice)’.” That magical, full-throated voice has now fallen silent. Lekin tumhari yaad satayengi, for sure.

( >rasheeda.bhagat@thehindu.co.in and >blfeedback@thehindu.co.in )