Nostalgia has a strange way of haunting people. For, any mention of Madan Mohan takes me down memory lane - to the day I first met him, some time in 1948. Roshan and I were walking towards Kidar Sharma's office near Dadar station. I was then supposed to sing for Neki Aur Badi (1949). It was already evening when Roshan spotted Madan Mohan. "Come" he said. "I will introduce you to a brilliant young composer. Within moments of our introduction, Madan became friendly . He had already heard of me since I was then a singer on All India Radio (AIR). Roshan knew Madan from their radio days in Delhi and Lucknow where Madan used to work as a programme assistant. While talking about Madan's compositions, Roshan asked him to sing a few notes for me. There and then, on the road itself, Madan sang some tunes. They were indeed sublime and beautiful. After that chance meeting, I had to go back to Delhi.

In 1951, while I was working with the Navketan banner, Madan's Ankhen (1950) and Aashiyana (1951) songs became very popular. We used to often discuss his terrific style and skill. This time, it was my cousin, Lieutenant Prakash who brought us together. I met Madan frequently after that. He had liked the music I composed for Joru Ka Bhai (1955). And I have always been absorbed by his compositions.

Madan never had any formal training in music. He only listened to music. Going by his background, I would always say everything was against his becoming a music director. His father was a very rich man. Madan studied in English medium schools and later joined the army. He never learnt music. He joined AIR after leaving the army and continued listening to music. He decided not to have anything to do with his father due to some personal misunderstanding.

From AIR to music direction in films was his next step. Madan didn't really know any classical music. Looking at all this and then listening to his exquisite compositions, I feel that Madan had inherited his music from his last karma as we people in India believe.

I cannot really say which song of his is my favourite, because I like all his compositions. When you listen to his music, you realize that his knowledge of Hindi and Urdu was fantastic. Though he spoke only in English, Madan must have known these languages well because of the way he "dressed the lyrics" almost perfectly. Madan was like a beautician - you could give him any simple tune and he would embellish it perfectly.

Madan was also very stubborn man - almost childlike in his obstinacy. Very often, he used to come to my house late at night and compel me to go out with him. If I refused to go with him and wanted to sleep, he used to behave like a child and stop coming to my house for days together. And then, one fine day, he would turn up again and talk to me as though nothing had happened. I remember, one Diwali day, he came and asked me to go with him to Chabra's house. I didn't want to go because I didn't know much about card playing. Anyway, he just dragged me there.

We started playing. I was cautious and after I had lost some money, I stopped playing. But Madan played on, so rashly, losing with weak cards, that many of us asked him to stop. He wouldn't listen. He simply threw his watch, his specs and his cards down in anger and run down to my car. The man was so child like that instead of getting in to his car and going away, he stood there waiting for us to call him. We did go down and tell him that we would stop playing cards and he should come up and eat. He came with us and soon everything was all right.

Madan loved cooking. I don't think there is anyone here who hasn't eaten food cooked by him. Madan may have looked like a stern military man - but the sternness was only external. He was a soft hearted, sentimental man. Once, he took an English guest all around to Kashmir and other places, in a Standard car. The car surprisingly behaved very well. But 126 miles from Bombay, it suddenly stopped near a jungle. Madan was a little worried. So he spoke to his car and said: "Darling, how can you let me down now? What will my friend think of you?" And the car started!

At one point, Madan and I used to meet practically every day and go out drinking. But during his six months I didn't see much of him. Firstly, I had stopped drinking completely. I didn't agree with certain things Madan did in his personal life.

But Madan was veery stubborn and wouldn't listen to anybody. Every first Sunday, he insisted on attending the meeting of MDCA - even when he was sick and should have been in bed. Naushad asked him not to bother and stay out of the meeting. But he wouldn't listen. In the evening of his life, only when he was really sick and started vomiting blood, did he ring up his sister and go to her place. There again, he kept telling his sister that he was all right and not to worry. Only when Shanti Mahendroo (his sister) noticed the blood on his lips, did he tell her that he had vomited blood. He was rushed to the hospital after Chetan Anand came and advised Shanti to take him there.

I cannot help feeling that Madan wanted to kill himself and that's why he drank himself to death. He never admitted it, but the way our system works with just three music directors cornering all assignments, troubled him greatly. He had only Chetan's films to do and that too with just one recording after every eight or nine months. But Madan would not compromise. He would never go to producers. Other music directors were no patch on him. The moment he entered the place, they would get up and go their different ways because they knew he was better than all of them. For a sentimental man, his conflicts in personal life must have also disturbed him deeply.

Who are the people in the Cultural Department who give away Padmashris? They can bestow this honour on anybody and everybody, but not on Madan Mohan? On what basis do they give national awards? But then, I feel that even if they had given Madan Mohan a Padmashri, he wouldn't have accepted it. He had immense self respect. Imagine, a man like Madan Mohan, receiving no national recognition at all.

His music is the best I have come across in my life. Madan never missed a single good classical concert. His lifestyle was great. He always wanted to live in a villa which he had started building near Lonavala. Madan often told me that there would always be a room available for me whenever I wanted to stay with him. But the bungalow was never completed.

(This article excerpted from the book "Madan Mohan - Ultimate Melodies" by Vishwas Nerurkar)