Noorjehan And I
Specially written for the website By Syeda Henna Babar Ali
I first met Madam in late September of 1972. As a student of Convent of Jesus and Mary in Senior Cambridge, the examination seemed insurmountable even though I was studious. Sister Desales came to our class every morning after assembly to deliver her
formidable lecture. “Girls, you will all fail. You do not study. This is the worst class in CJM’s history”. I needed something to soothe my nerves, what better therapy than listen to Nur Jehan’s songs! I was an avid listener of Lahore radio station where her songs
played frequently. I visited the EMI record distributor shop in Karachi during the summer holidays of 1972 and bought the two long play records, one of Punjabi songs, the other of Urdu songs. I would look at her photograph on the cover for a few minutes and forget myself. Looking at her photograph and listening to her songs, I was able to commit history, geography, hygiene, house craft, cookery, English language, English literature, and Urdu to memory.
I was desperate—just wanted to meet Nur Jehan, for her songs gave me such moral and emotional support. My mother promised that after my Senior Cambridge examination she would arrange for me to see her. My mother’s friend’s sister was Madam’s friend. Aunty Shamim agreed to take me to visit Nur Jehan. I asked our gardener to prepare a bouquet of roses of different colours to which I tied a red ribbon. Bua Ji was my chaperone for all events. I sat in the green Ford Escort and picked Aunty Shamim from her house who lived with Zarina Bokhari, both are no longer in this world. Aunty Shamim cautioned that we could only go for a brief visit and that after I obtained Madam’s autograph, we must leave. I nodded my head fervently and was glued to the window to see her house at a first glance. The white house at the right hand corner of liberty market was Noor Jehan’s abode.
Aunty Shamim spoke to the watchman at the gate and it opened. We parked on the side and were ushered into the house by Bano, her maid. The spacious drawing room had golden rust upholstered sofas and chairs. Zile Huma was sitting on a cushion and two large photographs of Madam hung on the walls. I was captivated and could not look at anything else, when all of a sudden there was a hustle in the room. Madam walked into the drawing room from her bedroom draped in a golden shamoos saree. She had a white towel in one hand and was drying her short hair. Aunty Shamim hugged her and waved to me to present the flowers to her which I did.
Madam said, “I am waiting for an important phone call from Japan after which I will give you the autograph”.
I smiled and quickly sat down where I had sat previously. One could not sit near Madam as she sat like a queen on a solitary throne. The phone rang Huma picked up the phone, consulted Madam and said, “Yes six minutes please”.
Apparently Ijaz Durrani had gone to Japan. Madam had not heard for him for a while and was concerned about his welfare. After the phone call Madam looked at me and asked me to approach her. I took my autograph book to her which had autographs of cricketers and hockey players after reading which Madam looked at me with a wry smile and said,
“Janaab mera kahaan autograph lena chahati hein”?
I quickly turned to the net page, handed her a fountain pen and said, “Yahaan Ji, on this new page”.
She wrote, “Sur Ayshwar Hai, Yehi mera sathi hai, aysa jis ne mujhey kabhi dhokha nahi diya”. She read it to herself and gave me the autograph book. I was more than over joyed.
Love flowed freely between us and I thought I had found my spiritual mother. I could not explain the feelings to anyone at that time but I knew we had a bond. When I returned home, my mother read the autograph and said, “this is it, my dear, you will never visit
her house again”. I took the autograph book to my bed room and ran my finger over her handwriting. This visit became a memory, a dream, a fantasy that continued to nourish me in my teenage years.
I continued to listen only to Madam Noor Jehan’s songs but the feelings that were developing within me required that I see her frequently. In family gatherings, amongst friends and in public I became her defendant. The moment anyone would say anything
negative, I would retort by saying, “She single-handedly carries the Pakistan film industry on her shoulders. Her personal life is her own, I am sure all of you have sufficient skeletons in your cupboard”. The aunties hissed and called me names. I was not going to allow anyone to malign her in my presence. Over the years, the aunties would tease me about it but they knew they could not belittle Noor Jehan.
In the summer of 1977, I came home for the summer holidays and was studying accounting in my father’s office. It was 10 a.m. I asked the operator for Madam’s phone number and called her.
She said, Hello, Kaun, “Us Salam-Alaikum, Henna Babar Ali bol rahi hun.”
formidable lecture. “Girls, you will all fail. You do not study. This is the worst class in CJM’s history”. I needed something to soothe my nerves, what better therapy than listen to Nur Jehan’s songs! I was an avid listener of Lahore radio station where her songs
played frequently. I visited the EMI record distributor shop in Karachi during the summer holidays of 1972 and bought the two long play records, one of Punjabi songs, the other of Urdu songs. I would look at her photograph on the cover for a few minutes and forget myself. Looking at her photograph and listening to her songs, I was able to commit history, geography, hygiene, house craft, cookery, English language, English literature, and Urdu to memory.
I was desperate—just wanted to meet Nur Jehan, for her songs gave me such moral and emotional support. My mother promised that after my Senior Cambridge examination she would arrange for me to see her. My mother’s friend’s sister was Madam’s friend. Aunty Shamim agreed to take me to visit Nur Jehan. I asked our gardener to prepare a bouquet of roses of different colours to which I tied a red ribbon. Bua Ji was my chaperone for all events. I sat in the green Ford Escort and picked Aunty Shamim from her house who lived with Zarina Bokhari, both are no longer in this world. Aunty Shamim cautioned that we could only go for a brief visit and that after I obtained Madam’s autograph, we must leave. I nodded my head fervently and was glued to the window to see her house at a first glance. The white house at the right hand corner of liberty market was Noor Jehan’s abode.
Aunty Shamim spoke to the watchman at the gate and it opened. We parked on the side and were ushered into the house by Bano, her maid. The spacious drawing room had golden rust upholstered sofas and chairs. Zile Huma was sitting on a cushion and two large photographs of Madam hung on the walls. I was captivated and could not look at anything else, when all of a sudden there was a hustle in the room. Madam walked into the drawing room from her bedroom draped in a golden shamoos saree. She had a white towel in one hand and was drying her short hair. Aunty Shamim hugged her and waved to me to present the flowers to her which I did.
Madam said, “I am waiting for an important phone call from Japan after which I will give you the autograph”.
I smiled and quickly sat down where I had sat previously. One could not sit near Madam as she sat like a queen on a solitary throne. The phone rang Huma picked up the phone, consulted Madam and said, “Yes six minutes please”.
Apparently Ijaz Durrani had gone to Japan. Madam had not heard for him for a while and was concerned about his welfare. After the phone call Madam looked at me and asked me to approach her. I took my autograph book to her which had autographs of cricketers and hockey players after reading which Madam looked at me with a wry smile and said,
“Janaab mera kahaan autograph lena chahati hein”?
I quickly turned to the net page, handed her a fountain pen and said, “Yahaan Ji, on this new page”.
She wrote, “Sur Ayshwar Hai, Yehi mera sathi hai, aysa jis ne mujhey kabhi dhokha nahi diya”. She read it to herself and gave me the autograph book. I was more than over joyed.
Love flowed freely between us and I thought I had found my spiritual mother. I could not explain the feelings to anyone at that time but I knew we had a bond. When I returned home, my mother read the autograph and said, “this is it, my dear, you will never visit
her house again”. I took the autograph book to my bed room and ran my finger over her handwriting. This visit became a memory, a dream, a fantasy that continued to nourish me in my teenage years.
I continued to listen only to Madam Noor Jehan’s songs but the feelings that were developing within me required that I see her frequently. In family gatherings, amongst friends and in public I became her defendant. The moment anyone would say anything
negative, I would retort by saying, “She single-handedly carries the Pakistan film industry on her shoulders. Her personal life is her own, I am sure all of you have sufficient skeletons in your cupboard”. The aunties hissed and called me names. I was not going to allow anyone to malign her in my presence. Over the years, the aunties would tease me about it but they knew they could not belittle Noor Jehan.
In the summer of 1977, I came home for the summer holidays and was studying accounting in my father’s office. It was 10 a.m. I asked the operator for Madam’s phone number and called her.
She said, Hello, Kaun, “Us Salam-Alaikum, Henna Babar Ali bol rahi hun.”
There was jubilance in her voice and she rattled of my shajara-e-nasab with perfection:
“Syed Muratib Ali ki dotri, Babar ali ki beti, kis liye phone kiya hai?”
“Aap ka gana sunna hai,” said I fearlessly”.
“Kal subha das baje gaadi bhej dena, main aa jaoongi tumhaare ghar aur gaana suna doongi”, said Madam.
The following morning Madam Noor Jehan tip-toed into my parents home wearing a powder pink saree. My mother and I welcomed her. She was accompanied by Muno Bhai. I gave him my harmonium. Madam did not quite like the sound. She stared at the curtains behind the sofa and asked,
“Ide pichhey ki Ae?” “Swimming pool, I replied.
“Ae waaja ta’nta’n karda aye, uthey sut dey”, said Madam.
We all had a good laugh. I brought a towel which was placed over the front to mellow the sound of the harmonium.
“Aap kya sunna chathi hein. Mein do ganey suna doongi”, said Madam”.
Delighted to know that Madam will sing two songs, I said, “Hou tamna Aur Kiya Aur Aye watan key sajeeley Jawano.”
While Madam sang, my eyes were fixed on her. I was speechless and powerless before the majesty of her voice, her glamour, her sensitivity and her presence. After the two songs Madam had tea and sandwiches with us and said to me while she was leaving for
the studio, “Jaldi shaadi karo aur bahot se bachche paida karo”.
I smiled and thanked her for her memorable visit. I was jubilant and till today it is one of the happiest moments of my life. When I returned to the University of Michigan, I called Madam regularly and told her that I missed her.
“Syed Muratib Ali ki dotri, Babar ali ki beti, kis liye phone kiya hai?”
“Aap ka gana sunna hai,” said I fearlessly”.
“Kal subha das baje gaadi bhej dena, main aa jaoongi tumhaare ghar aur gaana suna doongi”, said Madam.
The following morning Madam Noor Jehan tip-toed into my parents home wearing a powder pink saree. My mother and I welcomed her. She was accompanied by Muno Bhai. I gave him my harmonium. Madam did not quite like the sound. She stared at the curtains behind the sofa and asked,
“Ide pichhey ki Ae?” “Swimming pool, I replied.
“Ae waaja ta’nta’n karda aye, uthey sut dey”, said Madam.
We all had a good laugh. I brought a towel which was placed over the front to mellow the sound of the harmonium.
“Aap kya sunna chathi hein. Mein do ganey suna doongi”, said Madam”.
Delighted to know that Madam will sing two songs, I said, “Hou tamna Aur Kiya Aur Aye watan key sajeeley Jawano.”
While Madam sang, my eyes were fixed on her. I was speechless and powerless before the majesty of her voice, her glamour, her sensitivity and her presence. After the two songs Madam had tea and sandwiches with us and said to me while she was leaving for
the studio, “Jaldi shaadi karo aur bahot se bachche paida karo”.
I smiled and thanked her for her memorable visit. I was jubilant and till today it is one of the happiest moments of my life. When I returned to the University of Michigan, I called Madam regularly and told her that I missed her.
On one occasion she asked, “Janaab ko koi hari neeli aankhein pasand aayi hain”? asked Noor Jehan.
“No Madam Ji.”
“Bahut Achcha Hey. Mein bari mushkilat se guzri hoon. Apney aap ko bacha kar rakhna”. “Aap se kuchch kehna chaahti hoon,” “said Noor Jehan in a mischievous tone.
“Ji farmaiye” said I.
“Kash ke tum banda hotieen main tere naal vyaah kar laina si,” said Madam.
“Main te nahi karna si vyaah twade naal”, said I.
“Haaye kyon”? asked Madam.
“Kyon key janaab da dil, kadi ithey kadi uthe, mera ki banda”? said I.
“Fitey Munh tera, badi hazar jawab ein,” said Madam.
“Madam Ji, Aap tou meri Maa Ji hein”, said I.
“Paise bhejoon phone bill ke liye,” said Madam.
“Nahi ji Abba Ji hamara bill bharenge”, said I.
When I returned to Lahore after my MA in literature from the University of Michigan in 1981, I had a car to myself and insisted on driving without a driver. I would sneak from office during lunch break and visit Madam. Sometimes we ate lunch together, at other
times had tea.
“No Madam Ji.”
“Bahut Achcha Hey. Mein bari mushkilat se guzri hoon. Apney aap ko bacha kar rakhna”. “Aap se kuchch kehna chaahti hoon,” “said Noor Jehan in a mischievous tone.
“Ji farmaiye” said I.
“Kash ke tum banda hotieen main tere naal vyaah kar laina si,” said Madam.
“Main te nahi karna si vyaah twade naal”, said I.
“Haaye kyon”? asked Madam.
“Kyon key janaab da dil, kadi ithey kadi uthe, mera ki banda”? said I.
“Fitey Munh tera, badi hazar jawab ein,” said Madam.
“Madam Ji, Aap tou meri Maa Ji hein”, said I.
“Paise bhejoon phone bill ke liye,” said Madam.
“Nahi ji Abba Ji hamara bill bharenge”, said I.
When I returned to Lahore after my MA in literature from the University of Michigan in 1981, I had a car to myself and insisted on driving without a driver. I would sneak from office during lunch break and visit Madam. Sometimes we ate lunch together, at other
times had tea.
One day I walked in with a Dunhill packet in my hand, and she said, “Janab Dunhill peeti hain, Kis K2 peeney waale se shaadi na karna, love taposi maar ke khirki key bahir chala jayega”.
Another time Madam said to me,
“Tau Akbar Naal vyaah kar ley, fir sari zindagi mawan thian kathi rawan gi”.
I told her that Abkar Bhai was already happily married to Florence and I would do nothing of the sort.
Another time Madam said to me,
“Tau Akbar Naal vyaah kar ley, fir sari zindagi mawan thian kathi rawan gi”.
I told her that Abkar Bhai was already happily married to Florence and I would do nothing of the sort.
I was always welcome to her home during the day. “Magrib ke baad aap mere ghar nahi ayengi,” said Noor Jehan. One day I dared to break this rule and was promptly sent home!
When Madam had her first by-pass surgery and was convalescing, I came from Khanewal to see her in 1986. I visited all the shrines of the saints in Punjab to pray for her and read special wazifa and prayers for her health and recovery. While tarannum rehersals
were going on, I kept in touch with her. During the recording of Tarannum II I gave her a feroza which had been touched with the shrine of Hazrat Imam Raza for khair and barkat.
Madam wore that in some recordings of TaranumII.
In July 1998 when I was on holiday in Federal Way, I received a telephone call from Naim Tahir that Madam Noor Jehan was at The Cleveland Clinic and wanted to see me.
My parents and Faisal tried to persuade me but I was not prepared to see an ill Noor Jehan.
When I returned to Lahore, I found out that Madam was having dialysis and was under treatment at the Kidney Center in Karachi. I visited her once a month and spoke to her on the phone frequently. Once I was unable to visit her at the appointed day and she
said. “Aap Apney walid ki beti nahin beta hain. Khoob kaam karo, jab fursat ho to aa jaana”. I would accompany her to the dialysis center and stay with her for the duration of the painful dialysis.
Madam has millions of admirers and fans globally. One of them was Dr. Salim Aziz.
Somehow I was convinced that if she could have her heart transplant and kidney transplant she would live for many years but that did not happen.
One day I was sitting with her while she relined on the sofa, held my hand and was lost in my eyes. I tried to ask her what she saw in them but she never told me.
Another day Khalid Rauf called me from Karachi and said, “Your Noor Jehan is very unwell you must prepare to say good bye to her”.
“No Khalid that cannot happen”, said I.
“It will, we all have to go away”, said Khalid Rauf.
I shut the phone and cried. Farida Khanum called me and asked me to fly to Karachi to attend Noor Jehan’s birthday but I refused to go. Shaheen Attique-ur-Rehman called me and said, “Go be with her for a month, she is dying”. I could not face it. On December 23,
2000 I went with Faisal and Mubarik to Qatalpur. I could not sleep, was very worried and upset about Noor Jehan. After reading tahajad prayers, I heard the news about her death which devastated me. Faisal did not let me attend her funeral because I was so overcome with grief and even today, Karachi is a city I dread because Noor Jehan lies in its wake in a quiet grave.
Madam Noor Jehan is an integral part of my life as she mentored me, had the capacity to absorb my unconditional love, without manipulating me or seeking favours. She understood the family background I came from and never allowed me to become
dependent on her. It did not matter to her after how many years or days I met her she was always the same towards me and understood the reason for my lapses. I am at peace within myself and know that Noor Jehan will always be with me.
When Madam had her first by-pass surgery and was convalescing, I came from Khanewal to see her in 1986. I visited all the shrines of the saints in Punjab to pray for her and read special wazifa and prayers for her health and recovery. While tarannum rehersals
were going on, I kept in touch with her. During the recording of Tarannum II I gave her a feroza which had been touched with the shrine of Hazrat Imam Raza for khair and barkat.
Madam wore that in some recordings of TaranumII.
In July 1998 when I was on holiday in Federal Way, I received a telephone call from Naim Tahir that Madam Noor Jehan was at The Cleveland Clinic and wanted to see me.
My parents and Faisal tried to persuade me but I was not prepared to see an ill Noor Jehan.
When I returned to Lahore, I found out that Madam was having dialysis and was under treatment at the Kidney Center in Karachi. I visited her once a month and spoke to her on the phone frequently. Once I was unable to visit her at the appointed day and she
said. “Aap Apney walid ki beti nahin beta hain. Khoob kaam karo, jab fursat ho to aa jaana”. I would accompany her to the dialysis center and stay with her for the duration of the painful dialysis.
Madam has millions of admirers and fans globally. One of them was Dr. Salim Aziz.
Somehow I was convinced that if she could have her heart transplant and kidney transplant she would live for many years but that did not happen.
One day I was sitting with her while she relined on the sofa, held my hand and was lost in my eyes. I tried to ask her what she saw in them but she never told me.
Another day Khalid Rauf called me from Karachi and said, “Your Noor Jehan is very unwell you must prepare to say good bye to her”.
“No Khalid that cannot happen”, said I.
“It will, we all have to go away”, said Khalid Rauf.
I shut the phone and cried. Farida Khanum called me and asked me to fly to Karachi to attend Noor Jehan’s birthday but I refused to go. Shaheen Attique-ur-Rehman called me and said, “Go be with her for a month, she is dying”. I could not face it. On December 23,
2000 I went with Faisal and Mubarik to Qatalpur. I could not sleep, was very worried and upset about Noor Jehan. After reading tahajad prayers, I heard the news about her death which devastated me. Faisal did not let me attend her funeral because I was so overcome with grief and even today, Karachi is a city I dread because Noor Jehan lies in its wake in a quiet grave.
Madam Noor Jehan is an integral part of my life as she mentored me, had the capacity to absorb my unconditional love, without manipulating me or seeking favours. She understood the family background I came from and never allowed me to become
dependent on her. It did not matter to her after how many years or days I met her she was always the same towards me and understood the reason for my lapses. I am at peace within myself and know that Noor Jehan will always be with me.
Henna ji is an award winning poet. You can read about her and her books on her website. Other than writing She also composes music in her spare time. She had got an album named "Roshan Kinara" recorded sometime back and dedicated it to Madam Noorjehan.
Here are its eight songs for those interested which include Hamds and Naats:-
One of her recent books of the same name as the album, Roshan Kinara was released at a function by Madam Zillehuma. You can read about it and see pictures of the function here.
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