There is something about Udit Narayan that’s simply not of this world. In success-driven Bollywood, where brash is a way of life, the singer is surprisingly soft-spoken and modest. He answers the phone himself and readily agrees to an interview. And even on the phone you can hear the smile in his voice.

Clearly, the man is an anachronism. He is not swathed in gold jewellery; his hair doesn’t look freshly transplanted; and he is not in the I-me-mine mode. His Nokia phone is not high-end, and he is simply dressed in a pair of nondescript trousers and an equally plain shirt. The only concession to the contemporary world is his well-furnished eleventh floor penthouse-terrace flat in upscale Oshiwara, right in the midst of Bollywood’s production houses in Mumbai.

“I have simple tastes. I am low maintenance,” he says with a laugh. “I get moved by greenery and peace and clean places,” says the successful singer, whose repertoire include hits such as Papa kehte hain from Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak (QSQT) and Mitwa from Lagaan.

Not surprisingly, his house is chock-a-block with trophies. Shelves spill over with the awards that he has won over the years, ever since he first made his mark with QSQT in 1988. “Aur bori mein bandh ke rakha hoon (the rest are tied up in sacks),” he says.

We are sitting not in his living room with its soft leather Italian furniture but in his study which only boasts of a computer table and two chairs. Narayan’s smiling eyes look a little tired and worn out. He has been busy recording songs — but the action is all in the South. In Mumbai, his last songs were for Tashan in 2008 and What’s Your Rashi in 2009.

So what happened to the man with the golden voice? Why is he no longer being besieged by Bollywood? Films and composers in Bollywood, he reasons, are experimenting with a different genre. But his rozi roti is anyway from the South, where he is as busy as a man can be. He has sung for more than 2,000 Tamil, Telugu, Kannada and Malayalam films, he points out.

The tryst with the South began sometime in the mid-1990s with A.R. Rahman and the film Kadhalan. “When Rahman called me to Chennai I thought it was for another Hindi film. I had heard the Roja songs, so I was on cloud nine,” he says, referring to a 1992 Mani Ratnam film that catapulted Rahman to fame in Bollywood. “But Rahman took the wind out of my sails when he said that I was to sing in Tamil.”

That night Narayan couldn’t sleep a wink. The next day he mustered up the courage to tell Rahman that he wouldn’t be able to do justice to a Tamil song for the language was alien to him. “I said I was from the north and could not master the diction. But Rahman assured me that it would work out.”

And that led to the famous Kaathalikkum penin kaigal tottu neetinal (If a woman in love touches even tin, it turns to gold). The 55-year-old sings the first line, keeping rhythm with his foot. The accent, though not flawless, can almost pass off as that of a Tamilian.

But when you have been singing from the age of four or five, you master not just the tune but the words as well. Udit Narayan, who is originally from a district in Bihar on the border of Nepal, was born Udit Narayan Jha. The radio was his only source of entertainment, and he grew up listening to the songs of Mohammed Rafi and Lata Mangeshkar — his “staple diet”.

His mother loved his voice and encouraged him to sing, while his farmer father frowned upon what he thought was a rich man’s pastime. The family was poor and the going was tough. Young Udit managed to finish school thanks to his only sister — older by many years — who was married into a landed family.

After school he took up a job with Nepal Radio in Kathmandu for a princely sum of Rs 100 — an amount that he supplemented with his enterprise. He approached five star hotels in Kathmandu and was allowed to sing for tourists in restaurants. He went on to win a scholarship through the Indian Embassy in Nepal and landed in Mumbai to learn music in 1978.

He joined the Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan in Mumbai and started taking lessons in Indian classical music. But his heart continued to beat for Bollywood. The singer, always hopeful of getting a few minutes with somebody in the film industry’s music sector, would stand for hours near the gate of music composers Kalyanji and Anandji’s residence in Peddar Road, not very far from the Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan.

He ended up with a few assignments here and there. In a recording session in a studio, he met his future wife, Deepa, an air-hostess with Air India and a singer. “She had a good voice and I sang a duet with her. She later complimented me. But I was not sure about a relationship because she was the daughter of a DIG from Calcutta whereas I was a humble farmer’s son.” But they got married, and have a son called Aditya, also a singer.

Narayan’s first big break came when director Mansoor Khan, who had done a video film for which Narayan had lent his voice, asked him to record a song for QSQT. The video film didn’t make much headway but Udit Narayan’s open pahadi voice appealed to Khan. The 1988 film went on to launch a great many careers — not just the singer’s, but of the lead pair Aamir Khan and Juhi Chawla as well. “I got Rs 1,000 for Papa kehte hain,” he recalls. “But money was secondary — what made my day was the beautiful song that I got to sing.”

The year had its downside too. Just as success was to come knocking at his doors, his sister was struck by cancer. “I didn’t have much money but I went to (actor) Sunil Dutt’s office and they helped me admit my sister to the Tata hospital,” he says. The hospital had a ward named after Dutt’s wife Nargis, who suffered from cancer and went there for treatment.

“I gave my sister a lot of comfort and sent her back home to Bihar on a plane. She died later, much contented, though I wish she had lived to see me make my mark in life,” he says.

Now the singer is looking ahead — with some pride — as Aditya makes his mark in the industry. Aditya, who featured in a popular music reality show on television a few years ago, recently made his debut as a singer in Vikram Bhatt’s Shaapit. “Aditya is a dream child. I have never had any problems with him at any age,” he says. “I am not saying this because he is my son. He never cried and troubled us for anything the way children are wont to. He was so good that even today I can’t but help being proud of him.”

When Aditya moved out of the family house recently there were rumours of a split between the father and son — which Udit Narayan laughs off. “He lives across the road. My son was independent right from childhood. He had started paying income tax at the age of five.”

The non-controversial singer took some flak in 2006 when the media accused him of abandoning his first wife, Ranjana Jha, who lived in the Supaul district in Bihar. Narayan initially refused to acknowledge her but was later forced to do so. He says he doesn’t wish to talk about the episode but praises his wife Deepa for helping him “settle” the matter. The “settlement” apparently involved a huge sum of money.

“For six months, I couldn’t sleep. I never imagined this would happen to me. But not once did I speak against the lady or against anybody else. I was graceful but the opposite party did throw a lot of muck around. They even got politicians involved in it,” he says.

But the past has been buried — and Udit Narayan is moving on. The man who sang hit songs for Sivaji – The Boss and Thoranai is still much sought after, especially in the South. After all, quite like the woman in love, everything he touches — or rather lends his voice to — tends to turn to gold.