Rahat strikes a chord with Dubai

Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan or "Khan sahab," as his nephew Rahat Fateh Ali Khan refers to him in public, was an unmistakable presence at his nephew's concert in Dubai on Friday evening at Dubai World Trade Centre.
Lavish tributes were paid to the maestro, and several of Khan sahab's qawwalis sung to the utter delight of the audience. The nephew doesn't forget the source, and while that can be no small burden to lug around, as far as some in the audience are concerned, it's a good thing. Mast Nazron Se Allah Bachaye, is a good thing. Yeh Jo Halka Halka Suroor Hai sung is a good thing. There's an anticipation for Rahat to sing the parts like Khan sahab would, the Tera Pyar Hai Meri Zindagi and Mere Baad Kisko Sataoge... and when he hits the notes right and high and deeply familiar, the evening is lifted a couple of notches higher from when he pays tribute to the other Khan sahab: Salman Khan sahab and sings Dagabaaz Re. Rahat's chorus and back up singers, contributed massively to elevate the second half of the evening, the more classic qawwali centred half, into a much more immersive experience than when say Surily Ankhiyon Wali - not everyone's favourite - is being belted out.
It came as a surprise that he got Afreen Afreen, the recent Coke Studio Pakistan rendition out of the way so early, within the first 20 minutes of the opening. Lovely, of course. After Afreen, Afreen you could tell the audience was madly on Facebook and Twitter uploading media files, sending selfies on WhatsApp - all the lowered heads and fluorescent screen lights at past midnight couldn't have been for work emails.
Rahat said that at every concert he takes away some memories of the audience and the audience takes away some memories of him.
My memory of the concert, could be reduced to one stranger on my far right. Within the space of a somewhat proper, permitted degree of head swaying, and wrists in the air, and people rhythmically jerking to the beat of the tabla, there was this one person on a totally different plane of loose-limbed unselfconsciousness. For a good 20 minutes, he was ecstatic. He was a devoted, joyous fanboy exhibiting a very wide grin. And in a show of complete, unabashed appreciation, he got up (everyone else remained seated), he danced, he clapped, he angled the phone camera towards him (Rahat in background), and with enviable abandon, he seemed to be drinking every bit of the jugalbandi, the beautiful, repetitious sa-re-ga-ga-re-re-saa, and filing it straight into the pit of his heart.
arti@khaleejtimes.com