A small town boy who reached for the sky
MY FATHER, in my humble opinion – and with no offence to anyone else – was a pioneer in the South African music industry.
He was born in oThongathi (Tongaat) in 1942 to a first generation Indian South African family. His father undertook the brave journey to SA at the tender age of 11. I guess this was where my dad inherited his fearlessness and sense of adventure.
He began his music career at a young age, and when he married at the age of 19 and moved to central Durban, he became a true son of the Casbah.
He inherently believed in the unification of people, and this was the reason for the creation of his name Ramesh Hassan, which often confused people.
He added the (Hindu) name Ramesh to his (Muslim) birth name Hassan as he believed his music and name would, in his small way, help unify people.
My father carried this on throughout his life. He was a pioneer in many ways; such as being the first Indian to host a show at the Alhambra Theatre.
He was the first local entertainer to attain the number one song on Lotus FM as well as the first Indian entertainer to receive a South African Music Award.
My father was a playback singer for Amitabh Bachchan and Mithun Chakraboty. He worked closely with Alamgheer, the famous Pakistani musician, and other Bollywood music legends.
He may have come from a small town, but he had ambitions that were sky reaching. He was fearless and had an innate confidence to do and try anything.
My father had a passion for reading and self-educated himself in this way. His reading was not just limited to English literature but extended to Urdu and Persian poems, for which he had a particular fondness.
But, it was his generosity, and love for his fellow man that made a more profound impact than even his musical legacy.
For example, in the 1980s my father returned from a trip to Pakistan with a child with severe cerebral palsy. He had met the family on his trip there and had been struck by the plight of this child.
The parents pleaded with him for help, so he returned to SA with the child to see if there was any medical care that we could offer this child.
For the next few months, we would spend every weekend visiting this child whom I doubt was even aware of our presence.
Living in town or the Casbah after marriage, he moved quickly into the musical scene. I remember many a Sunday afternoon playing by his side while he visited one or the other of his many Ustaads while trying to learn how to sing raags better or play the tabla or guitar. Rabin Heera was an enormous influence on his musical education.
As a father, he was the best. Our childhood was imbued with his adventurous and funloving spirit. He would turn even buying a bunny chow from Victory Lounge into a fun instant picnic at the harbour.
We often visited the harbour, and it was not an uncommon thing for my father to board a ship and befriend the sailors and obtain permission for us to meet with the captain and explore a ship.
You might think this an exaggeration, but I promise it’s not. We held parties at our flat in Albert Street almost every weekend. Actually, what was often meant to be a band practice would end up as a house party.
We learnt to meet and interact with people from various walks of life and treat everyone with the same respect despite their background, religion, race, etc.
He aspired to spread his love for religion through his music, which he believed was a universal language. My father was a businessman, showman, humanitarian and an all-round entertainer and people person. He loved his family and children and made sure we lacked nothing.
Building relations and a sense of connection was more important than generating wealth to him, as he believed money was fickle but relationships endured.
From a humble beginning, he raised himself to unimaginable heights and his dream in the last few years was to build a hospice for terminally ill cancer patients inspired by the loss of his wife in 2010 to cancer. Unfortunately, his dream did not reach completion due to his sudden demise.
He leaves behind five children and five grandchildren as well as a second wife, Razia Saib, and a legacy of music that it is hoped will bring joy to generations to come.
Veteran singer Ramesh h Hassan, known for a string of hits including the popular My Wife Caught Me Talking to Another Girl, died at St Augustine’s Hospital on Saturday morning after a heart attack. He was 74. Hassan, who lived in Albert Street in Durban before moving to Dawnridge Crescent in Chatsworth, was buried at the Brook Street Cemetery. His family and friends pay tribute to him.