He was a genius. He was completely original.  Anil Biswas, himself hailed as a creative genius, declared in an interview that Sajjad was the only original composer in Hindi films. “All of us, including myself, turned to some source for inspiration. This, Sajjad never needed to do. Each note of the music he composed was his own.”

But that’s not enough. In the film industry you have to maintain professional relationship with filmmakers. You cannot afford to be uncompromising, be highly temperamental, and have an outspoken nature. Because prickly interactions will only alienate the producers, directors, and actors. Taking tactful feedback about your intricate compositions doesn’t diminish you as a music director or as a person because, after all, films are a collaborative enterprise. By refusing to recognise it, the friction that is bound to arise severely limits your career. 

That’s exactly what happened with Sajjad.

He had an extraordinary talent for offending people. He often walked out of films or swore never to work with certain leads (like Dilip Kumar) over minor creative differences. Many filmmakers stopped hiring him altogether. Producers like Shashadhar Mukherjee required composers to be adaptable. Once he asked Sajjad  – “Kya guarantee hai ki aap ka music chalega?” Sajjad famously retorted, “Kya guarantee hai ki aap ki film chalegi?” – a confrontational style that made him a persona non grata to many studios. After the success of Dost (1944), director Shaukat Hussain Rizvi gave the entire credit of singing to his wife Noor Jehan; Sajjad felt deprived of his due recognition. A hurt ego, and a pledge that he would never ever work with Noor Jehan, made him miss the film Jugnu (1947). Rubbing producers and label executives the wrong way sometimes led to his beautifully crafted songs and background scores being left out of the final cut or withheld from gramophone records.

Sajjad Hussain did not have good industry relations because of his uncompromising demand for perfection, his openly stated contempt for musically illiterate producers, his refusal to tolerate any interference with his work, and his abrasive humour.

He arranged his own complex orchestrations and refused to work with assistants. He would even write out the bol for the tabalchi. If an instrumentalist made even the slightest mistake, he would demand retakes. He had such a keen ear during music recordings, that he could at once detect a false note and also pinpoint the offending perpetrator. Even a whisper of a musical rhythm upset was enough to perturb him and he would start from scratch. His obsession with perfection caused jitters among the orchestra and the performing artists during recording sessions.

He bluntly criticized his peers. According to him, some of the music directors were successful by fluke and ignorance of listeners. He would say Naushad didn’t know ABC of music. The same Naushad had this to say about him – “He was an extremely talented man, very knowledgeable about music, but his temperament was his undoing. Even if someone made a minor suggestion, he’d turn on him and say, ‘What do you know about music?’ He fought with almost everyone. Because of this, he sat at home most of his life and wasted his talent. But the body of work he has produced, small as it might be, ranks among the best in Hindi film music.”

Sajjad had nicknamed Talat as ‘Galat Mahmood’, Kishore Kumar as ‘Shor Kumar’ and Hemant Kumar as ‘Ant Kumar’. He didn’t even care for his lyricists. Raju Bhartan, in his biography of Lata Mangeshkar, states that he asked Sajjad if he could recall any number of Lata composed by another music director. After long persuasion he mentioned one composition of Lata by SD Burman, ‘Megha Chhaye Aadhi Raat,’ in Sharmilee (1971). But he also added that the composition was not great; it was Lata’s rendition that enhanced it.

Singers were terrified of him because he was a tough taskmaster and not easy to please. He took seventeen re-takes of the legendary song ‘Yeh Hawa Yeh Raat Yeh Chandni’ from Talat Mahmood for the movie Sangdil (1952).

Nobody could fault his work however. Each of his compositions had more than one matchless feature; be it a superb pause, incomparable expression of lyrics, brilliant style of musical instruments, or excellent choice of the singer. But these original and enduring creations had to yield way to his stubborn, short-tempered and rigid behaviour.

As a result, though his career in Hindi films spanned about 30 years, he composed music for less than 20 films — a shocking waste of talent. When you take living life on your own terms to an extreme level, this was bound to happen.  But despite his sparse discography, Sajjad gained the respect of his peers and music aficionados.

Lata Mangeshkar was all praise for him. In her 2011 calendar named Tere Sur Aur Mere Geet, a collectors’ item on 28 music directors who impressed her, she had lofty words for Sajjad. She also stated he had a great sense of humour and used to crack jokes with a deadpan expression. She narrated an incidence about one recording session, where one musician was repeatedly playing out of tune. An exasperated Sajjad asked him to leave but not go past Lata as he was likely to pass on his off-key mood to her. Lata has stated that he was a genius and perfectionist and misunderstood by the industry and deserved far more than what he got while less gifted music directors were flourishing.

Sajjad and Lata had enormous respect for each other’s abilities (as was also the case with Noor Jehan). In her interviews, she has often maintained that Sajjad was the one music director whose compositions gave her the jitters. Part of the nervousness was probably due to his personality but, to be fair, he did give her some of his best songs – a veritable feast for all fans of vintage Hindustani film music.

 “We get only once in our lifetime, a music director like Sajjad”– bemoaned Noorjehan at the demise of Sajjad Husain.

Music historian Raju Bharatan stated – “You had to know him to recognise his tremendous erudition, the fact that he was far superior to every other music director in the industry.” This erudition, the cornerstone of Sajjad’s work, was recalled affectionately by Naushad- “He took pride in his ustaadi. He’d tell the producer, ‘I’ve created a tune which even Lata can’t sing.’ And the producer would say, ‘If Lata can’t sing it, how do you expect the common man to sing it?’ But at the same time, he did create simple, yet extraordinary, compositions — for example, ‘Yeh Kaisi Ajab Daastaan Ho Gayi Hai’ from Rustam Sohrab (1963).”

Sajjad was born on 15^th June 1917 in Sitamau, a small princely state in Central India, now Madhya Pradesh, ninth in the line of 5 brothers and 4 sisters, and, thus, the youngest of the lot. His father Mohammad Amir was an ordinary tailor who was called upon to stitch clothes for the king whenever the occasion demanded. The court at Sitamau had its fair share of musical gatherings. Because of his new-found proximity to the king Mohammed Amir was present at many of these concerts. These musical soirees opened up a whole new world for him. Fascinated by the sitar, he began to learn it and acquired proficiency at it. Sajjad often accompanied his father to the palace to attend the concerts. Once Sajjad attended a court performance by a visiting sitar player. He liked one of the pieces very much. The next day, he played the exact same piece for some of the kids from the neighbourhood. When his father heard it, he was shocked: How did this child learn such a complicated piece by hearing it just once?

Sajjad’s name is indelibly linked with the mandolin. He first saw a mandolin at someone’s house, but he was not allowed to touch it. So, Sajjad made his own version of the instrument and practised on it. This was the mandolin he played for many years (It would be much later in Bombay that he started using a professional-make mandolin, when a Jewish mandolin player Rahim Solomon presented him with the instrument).

By now, Mohammed Amir had realised that his son had a special talent for music. But he was a conservative man, and that prompted him to extract a promise from his son – that he would not make music his “rozi-roti ka zariya”. Sajjad kept his word, for as long as he could.

By then he was proficient in other instruments too like veena, vichitra veena, violin, flute, jal tarang, clarinet, piano, harmonium, Spanish guitar and Hawaiian guitar. Not only did he have a mastery over myriad music instruments at a fairly young age, but was also gifted with a profound music sense.

Finally, two years after his father’s death, Sajjad decided to go to Bombay to try his luck in the film with his family’s approval: accompanying him was his eldest brother Nissar Hussain, a principal at a local school. The year was 1937.

He joined Minerva Movietone run by Sohrab Modi at a salary of 30 rupees a month as a member of the orchestra. Soon he shifted to Wadia Movietone at a salary of 60 rupees per month. Thereafter, he joined All India Radio, only to leave that too just after four months. He was set on becoming a full-fledged music director. He started working as an Assistant to music composers Mir Saheb and Rafiq Ghazanvi. His proficiency with musical instruments and expertise in playing mandolin stood him in good stead while engaged in his chosen profession.

In the early 1940s, Ali Baksh (father of actress Meena Kumari), a small-time composer, engaged him as his assistant in appreciation of his skills as an expert player of mandolin. Music director Hanuman Prasad took him as an assistant and gave him his first chance to compose music for a few songs in the film Gaali(1944). He composed two songs sung by Nirmala Devi.

Sajjad’s dream of composing music as an independent entity was realized, when he was offered the film Dost in 1944 by Shaukat Hussain Rizvi (the husband of Noor Jehan), the director of the film. He showed his mettle in this first venture as a sole music director.

Thereafter, he composed music for around 14 prominent films ending with Rustam Sohrabin 1963 followed by two nondescript films Mera Shikaar (1973) and Aakhri Sajda (1977). In a few films he was not the sole music director. Each of the films and songs he was involved with bears his distinct style.

Some of his memorable songs were:

Dost, 1944

• Badnaam Mohabbat Kaun Kare – Noor Jehan
• The word ‘Badnaam’ uttered first, followed by a pause, then sung again, continuing the mukhra, lends the song a special compositional character. Years later Noor Jehan recalled this song as one of her best in an interview with a journalist from Pakistan. OP Nayyar while paying tributes to Noor Jehan played this song in a Jaimala programme of All India Radio. 
• Koi Prem Ka Deke Sandesa – Noor Jehan

The song is marked by a slow, expressive delivery and emotional depth. There is a sweet pain in this muted but             immutable creation. The melody is deliberate, diffident, gentle, subtly mournful, and elusive.

A needless controversy cropped up as to the reasons for the runaway success of the film music, already discussed earlier.  Shaukat Hussain Rizvi attributed it solely to the sonorous voice of his wife Noor Jehan. Sajjad, incensed at being denied his role, vowed never to get involved in music composition for any film of Noor Jehan in future. This cost him his next assignment -Jugnu. It is shocking that from the very get-go, he had to face such a parlous situation.

1857 (1946)

• Woh Pehli Mulaqat -Surendra

A classic romantic song with a soft nostalgic melody centred on blossoming love.

• Teri Nazar Mein Main Rahoon – Suraiya and Surendra

A tender, dreamy, intimate duet.

Khel (1950)

• Jaate Ho To Jao -Lata Mangeshkar

A young Lata sings this song of separation and quiet acceptance with slow emotional expression.

• Tod Gaye Hai -Meena Kapoor

A melancholic, soft and emotionally expressive song.

Saiyan (1951)

• Hawa Mein Dil Dole – Lata Mangeshkar & chorus

A romantic melody with a lively, swinging rhythm and a buoyant orchestral style.

• Us Paar Is Deewar Ke Jo Rehte Hain – Mohammad Rafi

Rafi sang with a joyous abandon. The vocal and orchestra have coalesced to produce this lovely tune.

Hulchul (1951)

• Aaj Mere Naseeb Ne – Lata

This is the first song of Lata’s by Sajjad. She was quite nervous because of the exacting nature of Sajjad, but in the end sailed through with this sad song effortlessly. This film was released after Khel (1950), which had two Lata songs.

Sangdil (1952)

• Yeh Hawa Yeh Raat Yeh Chandni – Talat Mahmood

This is one of the most memorable songs of Sajjad, and Talat. Its rich, nocturnal and wistful atmosphere have made the song timeless. Even a classy composer like Madan Mohan couldn’t resist its charm. The perfectionist that Sajjad was, in spite of 17 retakes, he was not fully satisfied and regretted that one player from the orchestra did not play properly. It’s a tantalising composition. The song appears to be in a slower tempo. In reality, however, it is not in a slow tempo but the lines are longer and the tune includes longer melodic progressions. Further, the two halves of the mood-setting first line finish, respectively, on the fundamental note ‘sa’ and the mid-octave note ‘ma’ – thus creating a unique feeling of completion as well as incompleteness, leading to expectation.

• Dil Mein Sama Gaye Sajan – Lata and Talat

An amazing duet in a brilliant waltz beat.

• Woh To Chale Gaye Ai Dil -Lata

A heartbreak song.

Sajjad fell out with Dilip Kumar and, as usual, he decided not to compose music for any Dilip Kumar picture thereafter, if offered a chance.

 Rukhsana (1955)

• Yeh Char Din Bahaar Ke – Kishore Kumar and Asha Bhosle

For Kishore Kumar this was a maiden venture with Sajjad. Asha Bhosle had debuted with Sajjad in Sangdil but the song was not picturised. Both of them have sung the duet splendidly. In his biography of Asha Bhosle, Raju Bharatan writes, “Sajjad had lost half his incentive to score for Rukhsana(1955) upon being told Kishore Kumar was to be Meena Kumari’s hero.” But it appears Kishore passed the audition.

Rustam Sohrab (1963)

After a long hiatus from 1955, Sajjad was signed as music director for this film. He was the ideal choice to give music to the film based on Persian folklore. Prithviraj Kapoor (Rustom), Suraiya as his sweet heart, and Premnath (Sohrab) paired with Mumtaz were the main actors. The defining characteristic of Sajjad’s music rests on an integrated fusion of two disparate musical traditions: the Hindustani and the mid-Eastern. But it is not ‘Arabic where the ‘Arabic’ motifs have been externally imposed. This integrated fusion finds its fullest expression in the songs of this film. Sajjad’s reputation as a difficult composer also has a lot to do with this film, especially its two celebrated female solos – the Suraiya swansong ‘Yeh Kaisi Ajab Dastaan’, and the exquisite ‘Ae Dilruba’, which sees her at the height of her powers. The Egyptian harp used in both these songs was played by the jazz trumpeter and arranger Frank Fernand.

These two songs have assured Sajjad’s place in the pantheon, but he took no chances and also gave us the stirring ‘Phir Tumhari Yaad Aayi’.

• Yeh Kaisi Ajab Daastaan Ho Gayi Hai – Suraiya

The last song from the singing star. The song showcases her sweet and soft expressive style in this ballad of longing, heartbreak and wistful reflection. The piano’s gentle chords and flowing phrases create a reflective, melancholic atmosphere. The ideal swan song to bow out with!

• Ae Diluba – Lata

The song explicitly relies on Middle Eastern modal structures and instrumentation to reflect its historical Persian setting. When Lata walked into the studio to record this song, she was reportedly very scared due to Sajjad’s demanding nature and the complexity of the melody. The track features a hauntingly classical, high-register composition. The song required extreme vocal precision, range, breath control, perfect intonation, intricate taans, and a highly emotive delivery, pushing Lata to the absolute edge of her vocal range. Despite her initial trepidation, she delivered a masterclass in singing, making it one of the most celebrated and difficult compositions of her, and Sajjad’s, career

• Phir Tumhari Yaad Aayi Ai Sanam – Rafi, Manna Dey and Sadat Khan

A group of warriors are seated around a fire at night in a camp on the eve of war to be fought next day where father (Rustom) and son (Sohrab) will be pitted against each other and the son would be the martyr. An absolute gem of a song. This song is widely believed to have directly inspired Madan Mohan’s ‘Hoke Majboor’ from Haqeeqat (1964). While ‘Phir Tumhari’ was uniquely structured as a multi-singer camp song, ‘Hoke Majboor’ had an incredibly similar sombre structure, progression, and multi-vocal setup. Like in the case of ‘Yeh Hawa’ earlier, Madan Mohan was showing how imitation is the highest form of flattery.

Incidentally, lyricist Qamar Jalalabadi modified a couplet by Momin Khan ‘Momin’ slightly and used it in the first antara of the song – “Haal-e-dil yaar ko likhoon kyun kar / Haath dil se juda nahin hota “.

Sajjad had the unique distinction of composing music for a Sinhalese film Daiwayogaya(1959). Five songs were composed. His music is considered as one of the factors for its box office success.

Sajjad, the purist, ironically composed a jingle for Geoffrey Manner’s Anacin.

All his life Sajjad laboured away on a pet project: to make the mandolin adaptable to playing Indian classical music. He was not the first one to attempt this difficult task. Music educationist and vocalist Vishnu Digambar Paluskar trained some of his students to play this instrument and featured them in his orchestra in the early twentieth century. Similarly, his disciple BR Deodhar introduced this instrument in his School of Indian Music in Bombay. There were other instances of amateurs taking to the mandolin, but it still did not reach a level of acceptance on the concert stage.

Sajjad wanted to change all that. He wanted to establish the mandolin as a major concert instrument in Hindustani music. He made his debut as a classical soloist at a music festival in Calcutta in 1956. It took 16 years of relentless work to make the mandolin amenable to playing Hindustani classical music. He was an accomplished albeit self-taught mandolin player who could stun even purists with his ability to play Hindustani classical music on this western instrument. His performances at concerts alongside the biggest names in classical music spurred rave reviews, and connoisseurs would be agog at his ability to coax the meend, for instance, out of the instrument with the help of the tuning key. “In the hands of Ustad Sajjad Husain,” said a review of a Madras concert in 1982, “the mandolin bore the halo of a Ravi Shankar sitar or an Ali Akbar sarod. His playing is that of a mighty maestro.”

He made structural changes to the instrument. The mandolin has 8 strings which are in pairs [2+2+2+2], but he used only 6 strings [2+2+1+1]. He also altered his plucking style. His most intriguing innovation lay in the manner in which he could produce meends by detuning the string and then bringing it back to its original position.

At the request of his friend Vasant Desai, Sajjad composed the title music for the film Do Behnen(1963) and masterly performed it on the mandolin. For the Telugu picture Muthyala Muggu(1975) he contributed a breathtaking nearly 15-minute-long instrumental piece. Director Bapu and music director KV Mahadevan specifically invited him to enrich the film’s sequences with his mandolin rendering.

He was graded ‘Top Grade’ for mandolin for the Indian film industry. In more than 5 decades, he was reputed to have played on more than 22,000 songs.

After Rustom Sohrab (1963), the film assignments dried up though he did do 2 non-descript films thereafter- Mera Shikaar (1973) and Aakhri Sajda (1977). He was signed on for a major film project, Kamal Amrohi’s ambitious Aakhri Mughal, based on the life of Bahadur Shah Zafar. But delays in the project and Amrohi’s increasingly outrageous demands scared the producer off. The project was put on the back burner. But not before one song was recorded penned by Jan Nissar Akhtar.

Sajjad had his five sons become professional mandolin players. When his son Mustafa was barely eight, he and his brother Yusuf (a year younger) were paraded before the well-known composers of the day and asked to showcase their playing skills. When they played for C Ramchandra, he was so pleased, he went inside and came out with a box. Inside it was a brand-new banjolin, which he gifted the children. OP Nayyar was so happy that he gave them each a 100 rupee note.

This, of course, was a bonanza for the kids, who were each handed the princely sum of one paisa every Thursday by their father, their pocket money for the entire week. The next Thursday, they had to give an account of what they did with that one paisa. Only if he was satisfied with their answers, they got their one paisa for the next week.

Shankar was very happy remarking that it was like hearing two Russian boys play. He instructed his arranger Sebastian D’Souza to call the boys every time there was a recording.

Sajjad would drop them off outside the studio gate in the morning. Once the recording was over, the brothers would come out and wait at a designated spot from where he would again pick them up and take them home. Not once did Sajjad enter the studio. What went through his mind when he approached the gates of the studio? Did he regret the way his career panned out? Did he feel frustrated, angry?

Sajjad’s son Mustafa Sajjad, with his brother Mohammed Yusuf, had worked on a film titled Ziarat Gahe Hind (aka Zeenat). A low-budget Muslim religious picture, itwas one of the last few films with which Sajjad was associated. The brothers, who weren’t even 20 then, were credited as composers. Their father was credited as “music supervisor”, though it is apparent that his role was more hands-on than that.

On July 21, 1995, the 79-year-old composer breathed his last. Today is his death anniversary.

The leitmotif of his lifetime – isolation- cast its shadow over his death too, when, with the notable exception of Khayyam and Pankaj Udhas, nobody else from the film industry turned up to pay him their last respects. But as stated by his family, Sajjad had no bitterness, no regrets. He could have been hugely successful, made piles of money, but the only thing he wanted was to be acknowledged as a great musician, and to live life on his own terms. He achieved that.

Sajjad used to say “popularity alag hai, muqaam alag hai.” He had muqaam. That is why his songs are in a different class. But the sad part is he had so much more to offer. The loss is ours.

BollywoodFilm IndustryIndiaIndian filmsMusicMusic ComposerMusic DirectorSajjad Hussain