This article must come with a warning. That it cannot surpass the realms of mediocrity; it cannot contain the many facets of an unparalleled genius, it cannot do justice to the phenomenon of Mehdi Hassan. However, what it can do is honour loss and a legacy that will only amplify with time. And therein lies the brilliance of Hassan — he enslaved both tune and time.

For some like myself, the strongest link with the legend was a cassette jacket or, as life unfolded, ranjish hee sahi. His passing therefore has been a distinctive one, when an entire generation is left with not just a colossal void but also a strange realisation of how little time we actually spent with his voice. Perhaps because Mehdi Hassan had a certain air of forever about him; he transcended the normal and was too revered to be routine. We sang Rushdie, Kishore, Rafi, but, funnily enough, my generation is singing Hassan now — from Youtube to CDs to stocking up the Ipods with his jewels — the man has conquered a whole age band in death. The social media is flooded with Mehdi Hassan renditions by an age bracket whose only introduction to local music is, at best, Coke Studio.

Surprisingly, this generation too, like the ones before it, is unable to move beyond the Shahenshah-e-Ghazal that he was. Eulogies on the man and his music published in the international press and shown on electronic media have centred on his ghazal prowess alone, overlooking his role as the King of playback singing. Mehdi Hassan gave Pakistani cinema its most immortal tracks even during Ahmed Rushdi’s reign. The volume and weight of his contribution to film music puts present day pop icons in the shade. He was a megastar for decades till he bowed out of playback singing after adapting his voice to varied stars — Santosh, Darpan, Kamal, Habib, Shahid, Waheed Murad, Mohammed Ali and finally, Nadeem, for whom he is said to have sung the most.

With his film classics, Mehdi Hassan established numerous trends along with an exceptional interplay of techniques. He showed the world how to relish that millisecond of a pause between notes and then create that space if there was none. His hallmark, however, remained Kharaj or bass, where we learnt, rather imperceptibly, that the treble could be expendable. It was composing icons Robin Ghosh, Sohail Rana and Nisar Bazmi who tapped into the power of this baritone to spin tunes that outstrip distant and recent memory. Also, Khan sahib and Madame Noorjehan were arguably our only greats who sang a geet and a ghazal in respective moods, layers and style, defying definition and stereotypes.

Mehdi Hassan’s is easily the only legacy in the subcontinent that will stretch across eras to be measured not in quantity but in and by time.

Here are ten popular film numbers that can light up the darkest of hours:

1)Tere bheege badan ki khushboo —   Sharafat (1974) A superhit composed by Robin Ghosh, it remains evergreen as the most sensual song in Pakistani cinema. It depicts Hassan’s immense ability to become a voice actor like Asha Bhosle and Noorjehan. He does not put technique above expression, making this as evocative as it gets.

2) Dunya kisi kay pyar mei — Jaag Uttha Insaan (1966) Filmed on the suave Waheed Murad, it could only be rendered by Hassan. Constructed on the ghazal blueprint, it treads a fine line between a geet and a ghazal — a feat neither Mujeeb Alam nor Rushdi could have achieved.

3) Ik naye mor pe le aaye hain halaat mujhe — Ehsaan (1967) A heady combination of Waheed Murad and Sohail Rana at their peak. Rana introduced the santoor for the first time in cinema in a subtle, effortless manner and in a modern composition. This has three ‘antaraas’, each of which has a different tone a la Laxmikant Pyarelal and Khayyam, making it an all out Khan sahib territory.

4) Jab koi pyar se bulayega, tumko ek shakhs yaad aayega — Zindagi kitni haseen hai (1967) A Nisar Bazmi jewel attempted by numerous pop stars, this blockbuster of a song will always belong to Hassan. Essentially a melancholic heartbreaker that Mehdi Hassan managed to burn across celluloid memory as a romantic teaser.

5) Ik situm aur meri jaan — Saiqa (1968) It extracts a whole new mood from Hassan’s otherwise mellow or melancholic repertoire; this is rage and his flourishes are wild.

6) Ae jaan-e-wafa dil mei teri yaad rahegi — Tasveer (1966) Filmed on Santosh, this is an unusually lower kharaj, high on technique and a flawless confluence of geet and ghazal.

7) Mujhe tum nazar se gira to rahe ho — Doraha (1967) Perhaps the second most popular romantic number after Rushdi’s akele na jaana.

8)Yun zindagi ki raah mei takra gaya koi — Aag (1967) A monument to the sheer magnitude of his low bass demonstrated in the very first ‘yun’. In this, Hassan employs his classical training with abandon, making it entirely unforgettable through his own vocal experimentations.

9) Kyun poochhte ho — Bahisht (1974) A sorrowful signature Mehdi Hassan number which could only be his, a halfway house between geet and ghazal.

10) Dekh to dil ke jaan se uthta hai,  ye dhuaan sa kahaan se uttha hai — A personal favourite because of its haunting magnetism combined with Hassan’s unique approach to emphasis. In an incomparable performance, he takes his own forte of sorrow to another level where despite being a ghazal, it crosses its own boundary. It was also heard in Kamal Amrohvi’s Pakeezah (1972). A Mir poem, the imagery and voice actor combination makes it a musical hedonist’s ultimate pleasure.