As the South Asian diaspora scrolls through fractured times, Ali Rafi – London-based filmmaker and grandson of Mohammed Rafi – opens up about his series on the playback legend’s life, and why the Elvis Presley of the desis still unites generations across borders
Ali Rafi says his grandfather’s music is still ‘this connective tissue across people, places, and generations’
When I first stumbled upon a short reel titled “I Googled my grandfather and discovered he is an icon”, I paused. Like millions of Indians and South Asians, I have grown up with Mohammed Rafi’s voice as the backdrop to my life — busy mornings, family car rides, and solitary evenings when his songs were a kind of refuge, including this week when I was holed up at home because of the torrential rains in the city. Moved, I did what any Rafi admirer would do, I wrote a message to the young man who posted the reel, introducing myself as a fan reaching out to another.
To my surprise, he replied, and turned out to be Ali Rafi — London-based filmmaker and the grandson of the legend himself. A Zoom conversation followed, his very first interview about a deeply personal project: a six-part series on his grandfather’s life and legacy.
Ali (centre) with parents and siblings
Ali started with, “I studied engineering, but in a very filmi way I followed my heart. We were always a filmi family anyway — films and music were constantly in the house. Growing up in London, we were surrounded by Western influences, but there was always this background soundtrack of subcontinental music that played in our home. It was a balancing act in my youth: on one side the Western culture we were living in, on the other side, our South Asian heritage. Our parents raised us with pride in our identity, so we never ignored it or tried to erase it.”
This series has been a passion project for years for Ali. “I’ve grown up watching people — fans, admirers, journalists — write articles and make videos about my grandfather. I’ve always been grateful to them, but one day I thought, why am I leaving it to others? Another dimension was changing reactions, over time, to the fact of us being Mohammed Rafi’s grandchildren. People who once said ‘we grew up listening to him’ began saying, ‘our parents used to listen to him’. That difference hit me. It wasn’t that he was forgotten, but the connection wasn’t the same any more. That was when I realised: if I want the legacy to feel alive, I need to take ownership of it.”
Mohammed Rafi with his grandchildren; baby Ali is in the centre
That legacy is way more important today, Ali tells me. A legend like Mohammed Rafi has the power to unite the diaspora at a time which is politically tumultuous back home. “Growing up in the UK, for us “brown” was the identity first — Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, those came later. My mum told me stories of growing up doing pujas with neighbours and tying rakhi, growing up in Indore. There was no division. When I look at my grandfather’s life, him embracing people across religions, collaborating with everyone, I see that unity exemplified. But in the last few years, the atmosphere online and in the world feels different and I felt it was important to remind people of that history.”
But mostly for him, it has been a way to come to terms with his mother’s loss — whom he deems to be the most elaborate Rafi encyclopedia there could be. He fondly tells me, “My mum passed away a few years ago. She had married into the Rafi family, but funnily enough, she probably knew more about my grandfather than my father — his own son — did. She had an encyclopaedic knowledge of Hindi film music, could recall thousands of lyrics, and she was the one who first introduced me to Rafi Saab’s music. After losing her, I found myself holding onto that music even more. It was a way to keep her close. In some way, this project is an extension of that need: to hold on to what connects us.”
Ali reaches out to the youngest generation through their medium, Instagram
The six-part series takes us through the frenzy of Mohammed Rafi, his roots in modern-day Pakistan, how KL Saigal blessed him before Bollywood music happened to him, Mohammed Rafi’s connection with Muhammad Ali and, in the latest, he discusses how Indians living in South Africa during the Apartheid years found respite in Rafi Saab’s music. But one wonders why Ali did not seek out a big platform. “I did consider platforms like Netflix, and I’ve pitched it around to my industry contacts in the UK. But my experience is unique: I never met my grandfather because he passed away when I was just a year old, and I grew up geographically distant, learning about this Indian giant from abroad. That perspective — British Asian discovering his roots — felt like it needed a different approach. Also, let’s be honest, my grandfather wasn’t a scandalous figure. He was a gentleman. So the usual A-to-B biopic style didn’t excite me. I wanted to find a new way of telling his story. And in today’s world, digital is powerful. Instagram felt right for a few reasons. For one thing, it has a native music library, which I could use to weave in his songs without worrying about rights. And I wanted it to feel accessible, especially for younger audiences, and Instagram is where they are.”
It’s amusing that the children and grandchildren of the millennium’s greatest musical legend never took to music. I cracked a joke about how Ali can’t be accused of nepotism, but he explains: “Most of us grandkids live in the UK, and there was already a cultural disconnect. I can speak a little Hindi-Urdu now, but I learnt that later in life. The idea of singing in a language I barely knew just didn’t feel realistic. And to be honest, having a grandfather like him, it’s intimidating. How do you even step into those shoes? That said, almost every grandchild has some musical spirit. One cousin was a DJ in the ’80s, others sang casually. It’s in us. But none of us were really encouraged to pursue it professionally. For me, film became the natural way of carrying forward the arts: close enough to keep the connection alive, distant enough to have my own space.”
Working on this, however, has helped him discover the grandfather he never knew and in turn, that feels like a reflection of who he is as well, says Ali. “People speak of him almost like he was a saint. I don’t mean that in a religious sense, but in the way his music touched people. It’s hard to compare him to anyone. Growing up, when I tried to explain to my English friends, I’d say, ‘He was like Elvis Presley or Frank Sinatra.’ But the truth is, he was bigger. His impact in India, and across the diaspora, was unprecedented.
“The other thing that strikes me is how completely he transcended religion. Punjabis claim him as theirs, Muslims claim him as theirs, Hindus say the same because of the way he sang bhajans. But the fact is, when you listen to him those labels disappear. In that arena of music, it’s just him and the song. That sense of unity, of belonging to everyone, is something I want to carry forward.”
His series isn’t for die-hard Rafi fans, Ali tells me. “My challenge has always been: how do I tell the story of a singer from 1950s India in a way that connects with my British-born friends, Mike, Dave, John, or younger South Asians in the UK and Pakistan? How do I get them to not just say, ‘That’s interesting’, but actually watch and feel moved? That’s why I chose Instagram. A friend of mine — English, doesn’t have any South Asian roots — messaged me saying, ‘Wait, you’re Mohammed Rafi’s grandson?’ And my first thought was, how do you even know him? But he told me he’s a big fan of international music and Rafi was already on his radar. That blew my mind. His music is still this connective tissue across people, places, and generations. That’s powerful.”
Subscribe today by clicking the link and stay updated with the latest news!" Click here!
