A cop drawn to music who plays it by the ear

Though I’ve been a successful police officer and am happily retired now, my penchant for singing surprised many a listener for how a cop could sing so sweetly! I didn’t take offence for that’s the general impression about my ilk.

The only parallel to my case in Bollywood, I find, is in a song, “Hai aag hamare seene mein”, sung by a tough guy Pran on screen, in the movie Jis Desh Mein Ganga Behti Hai. It’s another matter that he was a dacoit in the film.

I was then the superintendent of police of Fatehabad, a newly carved out district of Haryana. One evening, my wife and I were on a stroll when we were drawn towards a college ground where the songs of Mohammed Rafi were being sung at a function. Being a Bollywood buff and music lover, I couldn’t help heading towards the tents. Koumdi was hesitant since we had not been invited to the event.

“Would it not look odd?” she said. I insisted that we would sit quietly at the back and the moment the programme ended would leave incognito. Hardly had we been through a couple of presentations when someone recognised me and informed the organisers. The programme was stopped midway, and they took us to the sofas in front, announcing on the public address system, “Our SP sahib is here. He will say a few words.”

I was taken aback since I wasn’t prepared. Instead of the customary few words, I decided to sing a Rafi number. I went up to the musicians and whispered the scale to them. They seemed delighted and began playing the intro. I rendered, “Suhani raat dhal chuki na jane tum kab aaoge” much to the surprise of the audience. The song ended with a thunderous applause.

As commissioner of Ambala-panchkula, I was leading a patrol march through the narrow lanes of a slum, Rajiv Colony, when I suddenly heard the harmonium and tabla being played and about a dozen students getting lessons in music in a small room. The next day, I went there in civvies and quietly entered the room to sit in a corner. The master looked at me but continued singing. I thoroughly enjoyed the ambience.

Later, the master came to me with folded hands. He said he knew me. I feigned ignorance and told him since I love music, I was compelled to barge in, uninvited. The master told me that he had come to invite me at Christmas service. I was moved and hugged him.

Music is a powerful medium. It soothes frayed nerves and mends broken hearts. I’m reminded of a dear friend who was a die-hard Rafi fan and music lover. He used to say if he were found dead with his head resting on a pillow, under which played a transistor, it should be presumed that Rafi’s songs were on air.

INSTEAD OF THE CUSTOMARY FEW WORDS, I DECIDED TO SING A RAFI NUMBER. I WENT UP TO THE MUSICIANS AND WHISPERED THE SCALE TO THEM.