Kailash Kher is annoyed at the all-pervasive Sufi syndrome that has taken root in Bollywood. “Just about anyone who has a strong voice, who can scale the high notes, claims to be singing a Sufi song without even understanding what the word means. Koi bhi jeans pehen kar, baalon mein gel laga kar Sufi gaane ga raha hai,” says the riled singer-composer. He dismisses it as bhedchal (herd instinct), the latest fad in tinsel town, with no serious thought or reflection behind it. So every second Hindi film these days boasts of at least one song addressed to “maula”, “allah”, “khuda” or “rabba”.

Hear them or turn a deaf ear, Sufi songs, faux as well as genuine, have only been multiplying and growing in Bollywood in the past few years. And while a large number of these might be bad pennies, there have been gems as well: Khwaja mere khwaja in Jodhaa Akbar, Arziyan in Delhi-6, Ha raham mehfuz in Aamir, Tu mere rubaru hai in Maqbool, Kher’s own non-Bollywood compositions Saiyyan and Teri Diwani, or the latest, deeply devotional Allah raham in My Name is Khan or the quaintly thoughtful Ajab teri karni maula in Striker.

Historically speaking, a qawwali like Yeh ishq ishq hai from Barsaat Ki Raat came out of and reflected the humanist, secular and syncretic elements that underline Sufism. “It was a liberal alloy, a confluence of the best of Hindu and Muslim cultures,” recalls lyricist Jaideep Sahni. However, the full-blown Sufism that has, of late, seeped into our Hindi films owes its origins to the immense popularity of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and a slew of singers from across the border, as well as the defining influence of the Sufi-at-heart composer A.R. Rahman. The trendsetter was Raahat Fateh Ali Khan’s Lagan laagi tumse man ki lagan in Pooja Bhatt’s Paap (2003), written by Sayeed Qadri. Now there are several popular, robust and rustic voices which are getting identified with Sufi music: Rashid Khan, Rabbi Shergill, Shafqat Amanat Ali, Abida Parveen, Javed Ali, Sukhwinder, besides Kher and Raahat, to name a few.

However, classicists like Kher maintain that both composers and listeners have poached on Sufism without quite having understood it. “Have they read the qalandars, heard the faqeers in the dargahs and mazaars?” asks Kher. To begin with, the classicists say, Sufi songs are not about strong voices or rousing melodies but about meaningful words. “It’s the phraseology, not the tune, that matters,” says lyricist Niranjan Iyengar who wrote Shukraan Allah and Ali Maula for Kurbaan and has now come up with an entire Sufi-inspired track for Karan Johar’s My Name is Khan, with songs like Sajda, Noor-e-Khuda, Tere Naina and Allah Raham. “It is the thinking, the philosophy encapsulated in the lyrics that is Sufi. Change the lyrics and the same song will become something else,” says lyricist Prasoon Joshi who wrote the affecting Arziyan in Delhi-6.

Sufism, associated with poets such as Bulle Shah, Ghulam Farid, Amir Khusro among others, is a form of spirituality that doesn’t believe in caste, creed or colour. “It’s about freedom of thinking, not formal rituals,” says Joshi. “It’s an intensely spiritual form of love between man and god, guru and chela, a conversation between the atma and the parmatma,” says Kher. It’s neither form- nor gender-specific and god is often addressed as the beloved. “The songs are about surrendering to god or finding god deep within yourself,” says Joshi.

Which could be a reason for its popularity. It appeals to the listener seeking some form of spirituality as a way out of the pressures of modern-day living and Sufi-inspired Hindi film songs deliver it straight and simple. “The philosophy might be profound but it’s easy on the tongue,” explains Iyengar. “The listeners get the satisfaction of being religious without really having to follow the associated rituals; it addresses the vulnerability in people, their need and desire to belong to and seek comfort from some higher, superior power,” says Joshi.

The lack of orthodoxy reaches out to the young as well. “The young don’t have to sing Om jai jagadeesh hare to feel religious,” says Joshi. Somewhere these songs also tie in with the humanist themes and milieu of the films they are featured in. “Songs like Sajda and Noor-e-Khuda capture the subject of My Name is Khan, which is all about post-9/11 racial profiling,” says Iyengar. “The plea to the Lord comes with a political voice behind it,” he adds.

Incidentally, while the best Sufi-inspired songs contain a spiritual core, Bollywood has also tried to marry the sacred with the profane. The beloved “becomes” the god in romantic songs like Tu jaane na in Ajab Prem Ki Ghazab Kahani, Tujh mein rab dikhta hai in Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi and Aankhein teri itni haseen in Anwar. Then there has been interesting experimentation like Maula mere le le meri jaan in Chak De India where the nation is addressed as the Almighty. As Iyengar says, a genuine Sufi song can have many layers to it, which makes you hear it in a new way each time it plays. No wonder Bollywood, and the public, is hooked.