THE PLACE IN "RAFI MANSION" WHERE MOHAMMAD RAFI LIVED AND LIVES ON

Ali Peter John

I have seen the sheer madness, the highest peaks of hysteria, the will to live and even die for the love of their stars, their idols, their icons, I have been a witness to their strange and unbelievable ways of living life and giving meaning to their lives because of their love for the people they love more than themselves….

But I was in for one of the biggest surprises in my life some days ago when Mr. Trinetra Bajpai, a man I admire (and these days my list of people I admire is only growing shorter with very few people left to admire, a time when the world is fast being taken over by fakes and frauds, one more dangerous than another making it difficult to live this life), Mr. Trinetra Bajpai called ,he said he wanted me to do him a favor, he did not know he was doing me a favour by asking me to do him a favour, he did not know what a great pleasure it was for me not only to do him a favour but how just knowing him was such a great honour, because I don’t find men like him anymore and I say this with my whole being, my entire existence for whatever it is worth

Mr. Bajpai wanted me to take his friend Mr. Sanjeev Jaiswal and his wife both chartered accountants from New Delhi to meet someone from the family of the legendary singer Mohammad Rafi

The couple was on a brief visit to Mumbai and had promised themselves they would not leave the city of dreams till their dream was fulfilled, till they could feel close and be one in spirit with Mohammad Rafi.

I had just one day to make any arrangements if I could and it was the extreme kindness of Mrs Nasreen Ahmed, the daughter of the legend to ask me to bring the Jaiswals to Rafi Mansion, the house the legend had built many years ago in Bandra, she asked me to bring them the next evening at 7.30.

I went to Mr. Bajpai’s office and told the Jaiswals about the good news, they had a flight to catch the next morning but they took an instant decision to cancel their tickets and take a flight only after they had kept the promise they had made to themselves.

The Jaiswals spent a restless day the next day, they had only one goal, only one mission, they had to find and feel the spirit of Mohammad Rafi. I reached Rafi Mansion after they had, I could not find my way even though I was from Mumbai and brought up in this city and had even visited Rafi Mansion several times, but they had reached before me, proving how strong their madness was and how it could even work miracles, I had to reach from Andheri, a suburb close to Bandra and they had to come all the way from The Gateway Of India, O, the power of the madness of a fan.

The Jaiswals had already found out where Rafi Mansion was and Mr. Jaiswal led me to the place in a state of excitement I found it difficult to understand or believe , Mrs Ahmed and her husband were waiting in the “zari” shop she was running on the ground floor, she welcomed us in, she had the same face of Rafi Sahab, she had the same benign smile Rafi Sahab always had on his face, the only difference was that she was a woman and she could not sing like Rafi Sahab, who can?

The Jaiswals’ madness reached one more peak when Mr. Jaiswal asked for what seemed impossible and almost a sin, he wanted to touch her hand, her husband was standing with her, her religion was against any other man touching a married woman’s hand but both Nasreen and her husband saw the madness of Mr. Jaiswal and allowed him to touch her hand and as soon as he touched her hand I could see the light of heaven on his face, he had been transformed and transported into another world.

Mr. Jaiswal then kept persuading Mrs. Ahmed to tell her something, anything about Rafi Saahab as her father but she was at a loss for words, she just kept smiling that Rafi smile and blushed that kind of blush which has gone out of life these days, “kya kahoon unke baare mein, itna kuch kehne ko hai lekin kuch bhi nahi keh sakti”.

Mr and Mrs Jaiswal were then given the greatest privilege of their lives, Mrs. Ahmed asked Parwez, a man who was close to Rafi Sahaab to open the door of what turned out to be the most precious treasure they had ever seen, very few had seen and the world was mostly unaware of. It was the room where Rafi Sahab’s presence could be felt all over, the entire place was full of things that were all touched by Rafi Sahab when he was alive and every little thing was kept just the way it was when he left this world without really leaving it, there was his table and chair,

there was his old black telephone on which he must have spoken in his pristine and divine voice, there were all his awards, mementos, golden and platinum discs, photographs with his late wife Bilkees, with Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, Mrs Indira Gandhi and many leading dignitaries from different parts of the world, hundreds and thousands of newspaper cuttings singing his praises and above all the Padmashri with which he was honoured by the Government of India, an honour which was too small for a legend like him when other lesser people who were not worthy were honoured with much bigger and prestigious awards by the Government.

Mr and Mrs Jaiswal were lost in another world, they looked at every little thing and touched them softly as if they were touching something divine, something holy, and there was that sense of disbelief on their faces all the time.

They finally came down and they were not the same couple they were before entering that miracle room. Mr Jaiswal had goose pimples all over him and could not control his excitement and kept embracing every man who was around and some singers who were present, singers who made a living singing the songs of Rafi Sahab, he was delighted when Mrs Ahmed presented him with an old autographed photograph of Rafi Sahab which he touched to his forehead several times and looked as if he had found the ultimate gift he could only dream of receiving.

And before he could leave, he asked that one question which changed the atmosphere, he asked Mrs Ahmed if any film people or any one else ever visited Rafi Mansion and that “sacred” room and Mrs Ahmed just said “no” and her “no” was like a hundred thousand slaps on the faces of all those who had their lives changed by Rafi Sahab when he was alive and all those clones and imitators who claimed to be the voice of Rafi Sahab and all those organizations which made money by selling Rafi Sahab’s name to make money at ticket windows and mostly on the faces of an industry which is known to forget all its great legends even as they are busy doing things which only help them to make more and more money and find no place or time to think or visit the past because the past is the foundation on which their present is built, which they fail to understand and understand only when it is too late.

Thank you, Mr. Jaiswal for asking that one question whose answers will shake up and wake up people who love to sleep over all the greatness of the past and are only interested in their own petty present which has no future.