He was only 53.
He sang his last song.
And quietly passed away.
In music he lived life, in music he met death.
Sorrow is for the rest of us, for KK it’s possibly a Stairway to Heaven.
He sang his last song.
And quietly passed away.
In music he lived life, in music he met death.
Sorrow is for the rest of us, for KK it’s possibly a Stairway to Heaven.
KK was our lead singer and drummer.
With Julius, Franz, Tom, Sandeep and I, we were Horizon, the college band at KMC.
With Julius, Franz, Tom, Sandeep and I, we were Horizon, the college band at KMC.
We would go to all the college festivals and win prizes (mostly first, or second) for our music. IIT Kanpur and Delhi, SRCC and Hindu, we even played professionally at the Siri Fort Auditorium. We earned Rs 5,000 for the night and felt like we were kings!
Among all of us, only KK and Julius had the grit and the courage to follow their dreams, KK as singer and Julius as composer.
The rest of us took day jobs.
The rest of us took day jobs.
Full of enthusiasm and creatively, KK was the energy of our band. Exceptionally talented, with a voice range unmatched, he was a natural singer. In college, he sang English songs, in Mumbai he shifted effortlessly to Hindi.
When he dropped home one evening, I didn’t know much about his musical journey. He had released an album, Pal, and was singing in Bollywood.
What a high to know he was living his dream!
What a high to know he was living his dream!
A few years later, I was in Mumbai and he came to see me. We walked all night on Marine Drive, reminiscing our days of youth, our journeys, our lives, wives, children, careers, hopes, dreams—and our music, old music, new music, future music the unsung songs, the unplayed notes.
He told me how, when life hit him, he began to sell typewriters for a living. His soul couldn’t take it, his swadharma lay in a parallel universe—in chords and beats; melodies and lyrics; lights, sounds and performances.
He left the job and started singing in hotels. He said it was not a great experience to have people eating and drinking while the band sang. After 10 minutes or so, he said, “we would play for ourselves. That kept us going.”
Bombay was the next logical destination and Bollywood and the ad industry his arenas of expression. He told me about his struggles and successes, challenges and victories. He told me stories about musicians and breaks, voice modulations and practice sessions.
We stood at the end of Marine Drive and he said, you know I came here and stood exactly here on this spot and looked at these lights and wondered if Bombay would give me space.
It did—Bombay became Mumbai and our KK became India’s KK.
It did—Bombay became Mumbai and our KK became India’s KK.
He sang many songs. But in each song, each rendering, he gave his all—voice, heart and soul. He became the song.
Listen to the poignancy and pain of Tadap Tadap, in my opinion his finest expression…
youtu.be
Listen to the poignancy and pain of Tadap Tadap, in my opinion his finest expression…
youtu.be
…or Tu Hai Asaman Mein, where you sense the depths of devotion…
youtu.be
youtu.be
…or his album Pal, in which my favourite song, Mehki Hawa, transports you to the high mountains where you can smell the mist
youtu.be
youtu.be
KK will live on, in his songs, in our hearts.
And I am certain that God will take his time listening to him before sending him back to us, in another body, carrying another voice.
And I am certain that God will take his time listening to him before sending him back to us, in another body, carrying another voice.
Souls don’t die.
In KK’s case, voices don’t either.
See you on the other side, my friend.
Om Shanti…
🙏🏻
In KK’s case, voices don’t either.
See you on the other side, my friend.
Om Shanti…
🙏🏻
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