For someone whose TV set is usually switched off for days, I was left shocked and surprised to learn of the sad passing of the velvet-voiced singer, Nayyara Noor, through this newspaper. The crooner had been leading a silent life for years. Of late, whenever I, her friend-cum-admirer, phoned her, her husband, actor Sheharyar Zaidi, would answer politely. She wasn’t available was the usual response for the couple’s friends. 

Nayyara had a rich sense of humour, almost as rich as her collection of unforgettable melodies. She was a great mimic, too. In the company of close friends, she would imitate some distinguished people. This was very different from the girl-next-door image she created for herself when she sang on television programmes, such as Such Gup and Taal Matol conceived and recorded by Shoaib Hashmi, the talented son-in-law of the eminent poet Faiz Ahmed Faiz. 

Nayyara Noor was born in Guwahati, a city in Assam, India, in the year 1950. Her family moved from Amritsar, but it was on the advice of Quaid-i-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah that her father moved with his family to Assam to set up a branch of the Muslim League. He could not migrate to Pakistan as he had property which he could only dispose of in 1993, the year he reunited with his wife and children in Lahore, who had shifted to the cultural capital of Pakistan in 1958.

In an interview with Moneeza Hashmi, she revealed that she learnt singing by listening to Lata Mangeshkar, Kanan Bala, Kamla Jharya and Begum Akhtar, which were some of the famous voices of that era. Madam Noor Jehan and Farida Khanum were her two other favourites.

A truly gifted singer, Nayyara did not lose track of swars (musical notes). She was all for ragas, but was not in favour of guttural gymnastics that some of our ustads or pandits indulge in. “They should bring out the subtleties and nuances of the ragas by singing them softly,” she once said in an interview. 

Bulbul-i-Pakistan Nayyara Noor passed away on August 20 but she has left behind a treasure trove of her melodious renderings in different genres of vocal music

When she studied at the prestigious NCA (National College of Arts), she was often asked to sing melodious numbers. On one such occasion, she enraptured Professor Asrar Ahmed, who was a guest that evening. She iconically made her own rendition of the Raag Bhairvin-based bhajan jo tum todo piya. The professor, who was himself an authority on classical music, took Nayyara under his wing.

Nayyara made her debut on radio, but it was PTV that brought her into the limelight. Maestros such as Arshad Mahmud and Javed Allahditta gave her lovely tunes to vocalise. Khaleel Ahmed and Nisar Bazi were the two other music directors to put her melodic voice to good use.

In the realm of cinema, she did not get many chances to prove her mettle for many stalwart music composers had retired. Except for Robin Ghosh’s composition titled Roothay ho tum, tumko kaise manaoon piya, that one can add to the list of top 25 Pakistani film songs. “Had Robin sahib not migrated to Bangladesh, I would have gladly recorded more numbers for him,” she remarked in an interview a few years ago.

One must not forget the title songs that Nayyara recorded for TV serials. One of them was Kabhi hum khoobsoorat thay and Raat youn dil mein teri khoi hui yaad aayi.

A major landmark in her career was the creation of the album Nayyara Sings Faiz. Conceived and created by Shoaib Hashmi, it features poems by Faiz and was meant to be his birthday present in 1976. The set was developed by Shahid Toosy and Arshad Mahmud. Those were the days of audio cassettes. Nayyara Sings Faiz certainly benefitted Arshad Mahmud, who later on joined the recording company EMI. The poems were all solos, but a handful of Hindi numbers that appeared in the collection were sung by Sheharyar Zaidi, who married Nayyara.

In the inter-college music competition in Lahore, Nayyara was unsurprisingly the winner, while Sheharyar Zaidi was the runner-up. Later they ran into each other at a record shop where they were both hunting Begum Akhtar’s discs. Soon afterwards, they got married in 1973. 

Nayyara was deeply inspired by Faiz. She once said “I remember quite distinctly that Faiz sahib was sitting on a sofa, smoking a cigarette after cigarette, while Shahid and Arshad were busy setting his poems to music and the two singers, me and my husband Sheharyar, negotiated some difficult and some not-so-difficult tunes. Whenever I would glance at Faiz sahib, I would find him smiling affectionately and encouragingly.”

One more album which merits a mention is Yaadoon kay Saaye. It carries songs from the New Theatre movies, originally recorded in the voice of Kanan Bala in the late ’30s and early ’40s. They were available only on the antiquated 78rpm records. Sheharyar spent quite a lot of time getting the enunciation right. They sought help from someone who knew Hindi, since they were all geets and not ghazals. A violinist-cum-music arranger, Javed Iqbal, did a fine job. He could have used a synthesiser but he used actual musical instruments to give the cover versions an unmissable touch of reality.

However in recent years, Nayyara had distanced herself from recording songs. To her, family mattered more. While she could have easily minted millions, even in her heydays, she rarely performed on the stage.

In 1985, she moved from Lahore to Karachi, which was where her husband — an employee of PIA — transferred. Later, he started appearing in TV serials and he became the bread-winner of the house, while Nayyara played a supporting role. 

It is sad that she is no more. She has left behind two sons, Naad-i-Ali and Jaffer, who are doing well in the showbiz indsutry. She doted on her two granddaughters, Inaya and Azmina, who too will miss her no doubt. So will her countless admirers. But they will have her heart-throbbing recordings to keep them melodious company.

Asif Noorani is a seasoned journalist who writes on movies and music, and reviews books. His last book Mehdi Hasan: The Man and his Music carries Nayyara Noor’s tributes to the great exponent of ghazals

Published in Dawn, ICON, August 28th, 2022