Nazia Hassan: ‘I am not interested in singing, it is just a hobby.’
How she met Feroz Khan, had a spat, and sang Aap Jaisa Koi in Qurbani.
It was an unremarkable afternoon in a suburb in London, as unremarkable as two hot-shot Hindi film celebrities Zeenat Aman and Feroz Khan relaxing in the house of a wealthy Pakistani businessman, who hosted them without fanfare.
‘Who is that?’ Feroz spotted a young girl in the garden. She was dressed in cotton overalls, wore two pigtails, and was engrossed in reading a book.
‘That’s our daughter,’ said the host, ‘Nazia beti, zara idhar aana.’
Nazia clumsily sauntered into the living room. She flashed a customary smile she had mastered for her father’s high-profile guests. Feroz noticed her lack of enthusiasm in her posture.
‘She sings very well,’ her father said. ‘You should ask her to sing in your film.’
Feroz smiled toothily and said, ‘I don’t make films for children.’
His arrogant style naturally deepened the silence in the room to a chill. Zeenat cut through his quip.
‘Ask her about it,’ she said.
‘Do you like singing?’ he asked Nazia out of courtesy to his host, the Hassan family.
‘Yes, sometimes.’
‘Would you like to sing in my film?’
‘I am not interested in singing as a career. It is my hobby,’ she shrugged.
Feroz straightened his back.
‘That’s good,’ he said, ‘Making films is my hobby too.’
Nazia smiled the standard I-hear-you smile with a 5-degree anti-clockwise head tilt. She wanted to return to her book.
‘Who is your favourite singer,’ Zeenat asked Nazia.
‘Barbara Streisand,’ she said, ‘I like women with powerful voices.’
‘Which song?’ Zeenat tried to coax a song out.
Nazia hummed the melody of Evergreen from A Star Is Born.
https://medium.com/media/4baba9c88d53f56974d54058ceb3ac68/hrefFeroz was impressed by her words and her choice of a full-throated stage singer not from Punjab or a Bombay recording studio. She had good, eclectic taste, like him, he thought, classy and international. Nazia exuded a laconic aura quite different from the eager to please classically trained kids in film music.
‘Why don’t you come to our studio? My friend Biddu could compose a song and we’ll see,’ he tried to make up for the politeness of the Hassan family over dinner.
‘Okay,’ she said, shrugging her shoulder nonchalantly. Feroz liked her casual vibe. He noticed the book she was reading, Sophie’s Choice. He feared asking her about it would unmask his own lack of reading skills. Well-read women were a great and attractive foil to his own brute intelligence.
Over the Christmas holidays, Nazia and her younger brother Zoheb frequented a studio.
Biddu initially asked Nazia to sing a Hindi version of Boney M’s Rasputin.
https://medium.com/media/3b76dfc6328df97136811ca072a9ad59/href‘I won’t sing this,’ she said.
‘Why?’ Biddu asked. ‘Feroz wants to use this in Qurbani, his new film.’
‘But this is not even original,’ she said, ‘People will laugh at me.’
‘Zoheb and I write our own songs.’
When Feroz heard of her refusal, he was pissed at her gall. He was giving her a break.
‘Look, I don’t give a damn about what you do at home with your fancy guitar your rahees (rich) baap got for you. This is my studio, and you will sing what I say. Ok? I am the producer and am your baap here.’
‘Sir,’ she calmly said, ‘Yeh original nahi hai, aur baap bhi ek hi hota hai na sab ka? (pointing an index finger up) original.’
A moment’s silence was interrupted by a loud laugh. Feroz was happy to have met his match. Nazia’s sweet face held firm ideas unpredictable from her elegant demeanour. She was going to have it her way or she would walk out without a hint of regret.
A new song was recorded in one take. Feroz liked her thin voice but it had a nasal quality that could do with a double track to give it an echo over the umtempo beats. The finish was spectacular but Feroz preferred Laila O Laila on the soundtrack.
https://medium.com/media/76028cabd0f13650d0c7e0767b0d64d1/href‘You were very good,’ he told Nazia, ‘but I think the other song will be a bigger hit.’
It was an old tactic to control a rising talent, pitting one against another, this time Kanchan, another relatively new singer. Feroz had a reputation to live up to as a ladies’ man.
‘Um hum,’ she nodded her head and confidently said, ‘Feroz ji, aap dekhna, yeh gaana saal ka sab se bada hit hoga.’
She teased him as she left the studio, parodying the lyrics and singing aloud, ‘Aap jaisa koi meri zindagi mein aaye toh baap bann jaaye, ahaa baap bann jaaye!’
Her innocent giggle tickled his conscience. Feroz Khan’s sugar-daddy charm had zero effect on her.
https://medium.com/media/595587727dbb568ebc48c1f0bb0e0940/hrefDisclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction or more formally known as real person fiction. It is not for any commercial use. Read more on Real Person Fiction here.
