“Music doesn’t have a religion. It doesn’t have any of the harmful things man possesses today,” said the melody-maker. In London he had met Rashid, the guitarist who shared the stage with him, tonight.

Rashid, a jazz player who had told Rahman he liked his music and was welcomed to the world tour, sang the wordless intro to Ooh la la la… before handing it over to Rahman and “the rapper” Blaze. Later, Rahman and Rashid teamed up for a Bombay Dreams number.

With an array of artistes who have sung to Rahman's tunes over the years popping in and out, the line-up was formidable – S.P. Balasubramanayam, Sonu Nigam, Hariharan, Udit Narayan, Sukhwinder Singh, Shankar Mahadevan, Sadhana Sargam, Mahalaxmi Iyer and Vasundhara Das (referred by Rahman as the “most happening singers” around).

But all eyes – and ears -- were on one man.

“Magician” and “music maestro” is what Pawan Munjal, managing director Hero Honda, had to say about the composer during a felicitation at the halfway mark of the concert.

But that was only a brief pause in the roller-coaster ride of the top chartbusters of the past decade. The love anthem — Roja. The peppy number — Radha kaise na jale. The rabble rouser — Humma, Humma. The tribute to cricket, Bollywood-style — Mitwa. The ode to the nation — Bharat humko jaan se pyaara hai (with Rahman starting off on a giant piano before returning to the keyboard in his ‘studio’).

At a pause, while Rahman was tinkering with his keys and running his hand, yet again, through his sweat-soaked mop of unruly hair, “Vande Mataram” was a solitary cry that rose from a dark corner of the crowded stadium. The call was answered over an hour later, but it was well worth the wait.

“What, I can't hear you,” smiled the maestro, as the cry for Vande Mataram reached a crescendo.

As if on cue, a burst of fireworks lit up the night and the stage was set for Rahman to rock to his own rhythm. Ma Tujhe Salaam he sang, in the middle of the stage, the Tricolour flying high on the giant screen above, as mother Kareema clapped and the crowds stood to salute the keyboard king.

They remained on their feet as Jana Gana Mana filled the February night. Clearly, the rhythm of Rahman rules.