Hadiqa Kiani and the songs of the dervish

The singer-songwriter speaks to Instep about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

It’s 11:00 on a Saturday night, rain is still making sporadic appearances after pouring heavily earlier in the night and Hadiqa Kiani has settled down for dinner at a restaurant at the Marriott Hotel in Karachi, where she is joined by Muniba Mazari, Ali Hamza, Juggun Kazim and a handful of others. In town for one night only, just hours earlier she participated in a Nestle event that was meant to promote their 1000 Days campaign.

As I call her to remind her about our one-on-one meeting – after rushing back from a Sikandar Ka Mandar gig – she invites me to dinner. I politely decline the offer and she willingly and without any airs, sets her dinner course aside and we make our way to a quiet corner of the lobby to discuss her most recent album, Wajd and life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Dressed in a white pantsuit, Hadiqa, now in her 40s, sits opposite me and leans in as she answers all of my questions.

The last time we sat down like this was in 2010 and she had just released the groovy Aasmaan. In some ways, it feels like a lifetime ago and in between those days and now, there is a marked difference in Hadiqa.

She knows what it’s like to have a hit on your hands. She’s done it repeatedly with songs like ‘Jaan e Jaan’, ‘Mann Di Mauj’, ‘Boohey Barian’, ‘Dupatta’ ‘Yaad Sajan’, ‘Jogi’, ‘Mahi’, ‘Mehr Ma’, ‘Inteha-e-Shauq’ and ‘Iss Baar Milo’.

She knows what it’s like to write thrilling pop albums and what it’s like to do it consistently. It also means that she has an extensive body of work, made up of records as eclectic as Raaz, Roshni, Rung, Rough Cut and Aasmaan. Writing good pop songs is also an art and one that Hadiqa has excelled at for several years.

Wajd, her six-track EP that first made an appearance earlier this year, is therefore a complete change of pace for the singer-songwriter. It is an amalgamation of Sufi poetry, divine inspiration and is meant to celebrate ethnic diversity, languages and rich traditions. Wajd is unlike anything else Hadiqa has done and shows that she is neither bound by past success nor looking to repeat it.

And though her personal life has seen its share of heartbreaks and joyous moments, Hadiqa’s greatest strength is her optimism, for the industry, for herself and others around her.

If her last unabashedly pop album was about celebrating love, life and relationships, Wajd is about exploring, through sacred texts and the learnings from Sufi saints, the depth of her own consciousness and expanding it.

Throughout the interview she is forthcoming and does not make evasive maneuvers even as she takes time to articulate her thoughts.

Our conversation opens with the subject of shrines since her fifth song from Wajd took her to the shrine of Baba Bulleh Shah. Given the fact that shrines have also come under terror attacks, I ask Hadiqa if she’s afraid. “I’ve been going to shrines for the last 15 years,” she says with a smile. “This (attacking them) is the norm now but 15 years ago it was different. From shrines in Multan and other spaces to the shrines of Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai, I still visit them. I pray to Allah over there and pay my respects and gratitude to the Sufi saints.”

In this conversation with Instep, Hadiqa reflects on how her music has evolved, why she no longer cares for making pure pop melodies and everything else in between…

How and when was the idea for Wajd first born?

Hadiqa Kiani: Lala (Irfan Kiani) conceived this whole journey at first. We were going to Murree on a family vacation and were listening to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s ‘Kun Faya Kun’ repeatedly; we didn’t want to hear anything else because we connected to it. At the same time, we also wanted to do something out of the box. We felt stagnant in our work and didn’t want to do anything commercial. We wanted to satisfy our own souls.

There is always criticism on artists when they approach material that has been done before by others.

HK: Honestly speaking, I’m not answerable to anyone. I sing what my heart wants to sing. Some of the songs on Wajd have been sung by others before me but they are close to my heart.

For instance, I could have followed Mussarat Nazir ji completely while doing ‘Kamlee Da Dhola’ but I have put my own colour into it. That’s the beauty of old folk songs, if you do it with your own flavour then people react to it.

I did wonder how my fans would react because it’s a complete departure from the Western pop genre but the response to Wajd so far has been very good. I was not expecting it.

The music scene, since you began, has completely changed. How do you see this progression? Do you think we’re on the right path?

Hadiqa Kiani: I don’t think things are that binary; nothing is entirely good or bad. I think it’s really about the path you choose for yourself. The artists who exist today are doing what their frame of mind allows. For all these years, I did what my frame of mind allowed and it was pop music. At this point in time, if you ask me to do that same kind of music again, I can’t do it. I no longer relate to it. I feel that I have to keep doing more mature, thoughtful and soulful music. It has nothing to do with age, but it has to do with my life experiences and the personal evolution that comes with them. I was selective but now am even more so. I have to be satisfied with what I do. Only then will others connect with it. If it’s not genuine, it won’t register.

What does the future contain?

HK: Wajd is an ongoing journey. Volume 1 will finish after two songs. Volume 2 might include some original melodies and some old songs that I’ve grown up listening to or things that inspire me as a musician. I might be doing some variation of pop-esque songs for OSTs or film soundtracks. If I’m asked to do it by a producer, then as a singer I can deliver it. But my own music has to be Wajd.

You are raising a son as a single mother and taking care of your mother. Have you given up on love?

HK: Love is the core of life. But my love has diverted to my son and everything and everyone comes after that. My mother is my love and so is my son.

Do you think something is missing?

HK: Sometimes, but when I think about it practically, the first thought is always how my son will adjust to it or accept it. If something happens in the future, so be it. If it doesn’t, that’s okay too.

A lot of people sing well but don’t produce their own songs, which means their music has no personal narrative. You do write your own songs and play instruments as well. How has your life shaped your music?

HK: Motherhood has made me more centered and has made me selfless. Prior to it, you can say I was either self-centered or self-involved. I had no responsibility as such but after Nad-e-Ali came into my life, it all changed for the better. He’s my driving force and more that that, his existence has made me more sensitive to others. When my son was three months, my mother had a stroke. That was another life-altering moment.