On 13 October 1948, a baby boy was born to Fateh Ali Khan’s family – Pervez Fateh Ali Khan, also known by his nickname, Paiji. He was the first boy, born after four girls, which made him the centre of attention and everybody’s darling.

His birth was celebrated with great ceremony. Many reputed musicians, like Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, Lal Khan, and the young brothers Salamat and Nazakat Ali Khan, came to the family home to pay homage to the newborn, who was already exhibiting a tendency to plumpness.

Very early on, certain signs seemed to predict a unique destiny for this child with his small hands and remarkable corpulence.

One day, says the family legend quoted by Ahmad Aqeel Ruby, a pious Sufi friend (actually Pir Ghulam Gaus Samadani according to Nusrat’s sister, Nafees Jahan) who was visiting the family, asked what the last child’s name was.

Pervez”, replied Fateh Ali Khan.

“Change this name at once. Do you know who Pervez was? He was the King of Persia who tore up the letter sent to him by the Holy Prophet! (...) This name doesn’t augur well. It should not be the name of someone who will tell the rosary of Allah, the Holy Prophet (Peace upon him) and Ali!”

“What should we name him, then?” asked Fateh Ali Khan.

“Nusrat! Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan! or ‘the Path to Success’!”

And thus it came about.

Nonetheless, Fateh Ali Khan still had no inkling that his son would become successful as an artist in the future. His intention was to have him train as a doctor. Despite the respect and recognition he had received for his talent, Nusrat’s father was well aware that professional musicians were often accorded a very low status in a traditional society like theirs and that a doctor would command far greater respect.

Maybe it was also that, to start an apprentice Qawwal’s first steps with, he doubted a son as reserved, shy, and as large as Nusrat could survive such a demanding career, travelling throughout Pakistan. With this in mind, he ensured the child was not too closely exposed to the musical milieu that passed through their home, and for a long time refused to include him in the circle of his students and musician friends.

It was impossible though, to ignore for long a family legacy that was so present in his son’s own blood.

From very early on, Nusrat was deeply interested in everything related to music. In secret, he followed the classes when his father was teaching some of his students, absorbing and storing away all the knowledge he could, even trying to play the harmonium when his father was out of earshot.

One day, while Nusrat was engrossed in his attempts to play one of the family harmoniums, he did not hear his father enter the room. When he realised he was there, behind him, he stopped playing, suddenly nervous. Fateh just smiled and gave his son permission to play the instrument, requesting him nonetheless to concentrate primarily on his studies and his future as a doctor.

For young Nusrat, his father’s permission to play the harmonium was a blessing and he set about mastering both the harmonium and the tabla.

He also, on occasion, received a few words of advice from his father, regarding the tabla to start with, as it is the source of all the ideas of rhythm so essential to qawwali; then he helped him improve his skills on the harmonium, and taught him to sing.

Soon after these events, Munawar Ali Khan, the son of the famous vocalist Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, who was settled in India, came to Pakistan and spent some time with Fateh Ali Khan. When their guest complained he had not managed to find a tabla player good enough to accompany him, Fateh suggested his son Nusrat’s name.

At Munawar Ali Khan’s astonished expression once he had taken a look at Nusrat, Fateh is said to have replied: “He is fat in his body, but his brain is sharp!” Nusrat knew this was a crucial test; if he failed, this would be the end of the trust his father had begun to place in him. He came through with flying colours, his skilful fingers dancing on the skin of the tabla with lightning speed earning him the Indian vocalist’s admiration.

Now that he had realised his son’s extraordinary skill, Fateh Ali Khan abandoned his initial plans to make him a healer of bodies, deciding “he would rather apply the balm of music to the wounded hearts of his listeners who suffered the pangs of separation from their loved ones”, as Ahmad Aqeel Ruby puts it so poetically.

From this time on, he initiated him seriously into the mysteries of classical music and qawwali. He began by teaching Nusrat the tabla, then the harmonium and to sing the main ragas and the technique of chanting the poetic bol-baant phrases.

The learning process was very demanding, and the voice had to be absolutely perfect. Joking one day, Nusrat let slip: “When I sing, the distance between God and me decreases and the distance between my cheek and my father’s right hand increases!”

The young boy devoted himself wholeheartedly to his learning, locking himself up in his room, spending sleepless nights absorbing his father’s lessons and perfecting them. This training did not last long though as Fateh Ali Khan was soon diagnosed with throat cancer and died in March 1964, just when Nusrat was appearing for his school-leaving exam.

Shortly before his death, one of Nusrat’s sisters, Kaniz Fatima, recalls an intense moment: “When our father was going to leave us forever, he called us all around him and asked us to chant the Kalima. We were doing his bidding, though while doing this, our hearts were sad and heavy. At that moment, we felt that he looked hard at Nusrat and he seemed to transfer all his knowledge and power and skill to Nusrat through his eyes.”

Excerpted with permission from Nusrat: The Voice Of Faith, Pierre-Alain Baud, translated from the French by Renuka George, HarperCollins India.