geetasahai

Remembering Pt Jasraj

2020-08-17T22:51:00.003+05:30

I was busy in my work when suddenly the news flashed:'Pt Jasraj passed away in the US.' The suddenness of this news left me speechless. All those memories - my eagerness to meet him, to interview him, waiting impatiently to meet him and of course my first encounter with him during my college days. Over the years, his inimitable gayaki completely captivated me. Much later in life as a broadcaster, I got an opportunity to interview him. And as a tribute I reproduce excerpts from that priceless interview:

Excerpts from the interview included in my book – Beyond Music – Maestros in Conversation (Publisher: Niyogi Books)

Painting the Canvas of Emotions

Pandit Jasraj—

(28January 1930 – 17 August 2020)

I got a chance to interview Pandit Jasraj at his friend, Justice Mukul Mudgal’s residence in New Delhi, where he had stopped for a day on his way home from a concert in Rajasthan. When I reached there, Pandit Jasraj was sleeping after a tiring journey and tour. I had nearly lost hope after forty-five minutes of wait, thinking that perhaps, ‘it’s a wrong day.’ But his disciple and nephew, Rattan Mohan Sharma gave me company and discouraged any thoughts about postponing the interview, ‘It’s 5 pm and he will soon join us. See, his guests have also started coming.’ I became apprehensive. I didn’t want to talk to him amidst his followers. Just as I was debating whether to stay back or return, Pandit Jasraj emerged in an orange kurta and dhoti, ushering in an aura of spirituality, so characteristic of his gayaki as well. Everybody got up to greet the maestro and sat around him.

He appeared to be touched by their concern and listened to them with untiring patience. Coaxed by his nephew, I ultimately decided to interview him in the midst of his admirers. At ease, often asking for his special tea, he answered while conversing with his ‘guests,’ enquiring about their well-being and discussing topics related to God, miracles and classical music.

Pandit Jasraj was born in Hissar, Haryana to Pandit Motiram, a classical music exponent. Jasrajji was only four when his father passed away. He received training from his elder brother, Pandit Maniram, and later from Maharaja Jaiwant Singhji Waghela. Beginning his musical journey as a tabla accompanist to his brother, Pandit Jasraj soon got disappointed with the way tabla maestros were treated. He decided to concentrate on vocal music only. Blessed with a sonorous and meditative voice, smoothly mapping three and a half octaves, Pandit Jasraj gave his first public concert way back in 1952 before King Tribhuvan Vikram of Nepal.

(2 April 2005)

Interviewer:

Pandit ji, you always start your bandishes with a shloka, and in all your concerts the atmosphere becomes spiritually charged. How does this happen?

Jasraj:

That's an interesting question. I don't know how it happens, why it happens. But I always start with a prayer to Lord Vishnu— 'Mangalam bhagwan Vishnu ...' This has been coming down to us through the ages and it's the power of this mantra ...

Interviewer:

So you believe it is this mantra that changes the whole atmosphere; isn't it the power of your gayaki as well?

Jasraj :

The mantra makes my gayaki what it is. My spiritual guru was Maharana Jaiwant Singh ji, a true devotee and he was the one who gave me the vision for this path. The interesting fact is that he was a great musician himself and he was from the same gharana that I belong to—Mewati gharana.

Interviewer:

Your rendition of the bhajan 'Om Namo bhagwate' has become so popular. What was the creative process behind it?

Jasraj:

This bhajan has been written by Shankaracharya ji. An acquaintance, a lady called Prerna Behen Thakur, heard the song and was deeply inspired by it. A true devotee of Lord Krishna, she would get tears in her eyes at the mere mention of his name. One day she came to me and I was so deeply moved by her sincere devotion, bhakti, and wondrous love for Krishna that even before she could mention the purpose of her visit I promised her that I was with her in whatever it was she wanted me to do. She wanted to get Krishna anurag, Shiva anurag, all of those recorded. Now, I firmly believe that God is behind everything that happens in life, all the people we meet ... even the fact that you are here today and we have met is an indicator of something that is about to happen, there is some cosmic reason behind it. So it was because of her that I sang 'Om Namo Bhagwate' and had no clue it would become so popular! Today when I listen to it, I am moved.

Interviewer:

What is the concept behind Jasrangi Jugalbandi? Why did you think of doing this different kind of Jugalbandi with a male and female vocalist?

Jasraj:

Many a times when I heard male and female vocalists singing together, I always felt there was something lacking. There is a pair for everything in nature—like husband-wife, Shiv-Shakti, Purush-Prakriti, and these two energies together fulfil one goal, achieve completeness. But when male and female vocalists sing together, one of them always suffers. Why? I asked God that if music is so special then why has one to compromise while singing with the other. Sometimes the female vocalist says she can't sing at a high scale so the male vocalist has to sing from kharaj and because of all this they are not able to do justice to their own music. So the answer I got was that the solution to this already exists in the form of 'murchhana,' In classical music there is murchhana-bheda–'sapt suran teen gram ikkees murchhana ...' So the solution already existed and I just tried to give some more thought, direction and depth to the concept.

Interviewer:

But the vocalists sing different ragas in this kind of jugalbandi. What is the reason behind it?

Jasraj:

Exactly! If you take the shadja note as shadja and sing, it would be one raga. Now if you sing the same combination of notes from pancham swar that would be a different raga! So that is why the vocalists would be singing the same note combination, but at different scales and so it would be two different ragas.

Interviewer:

What is your favourite raga?

Jasraj:

Well, it depends on the state of mind at that time. Many a times I had tuned my swarmandal before the concert, thinking I would present a certain raga. But when I am on stage I keep the swarmandal aside and start with some other raga.

Interviewer:

Today people often say that the concept of gharana is obsolete. What are your views on this?

Jasraj:

One thing I want to say is that people who don't give much importance to gharana are missing out on something crucial. Each gharana has some specialty, something unique, and that is why it became a ghar, a gharana. For instance, a Commerce college is distinct from an Arts college and they are both different from a Science college. One doesn't question that, but when it comes to gharanas in music, why so much scepticism? Try to understand that each gharana is unique. For example, in Agra gharana gayaki they used to start with madhya laya and alaapchari, bol-baant was characteristic to Agra gharana, while in Kirana gharana the emphasis is on the notes, behlava; so you see each gharana has something special and unique.

Interviewer:

So what is the specialty of Mewati gharana?

Jasraj:

In Mewati Gharana, we believe in loving each swar. We try to ornament and render each bandish as if it were a new-born baby, we are gentle and protective about it. We think of the instruments as mother and father, and for us, music is God. Like a mother takes care of her growing child, in the same manner we approach each raga and develop it. Secondly, the bandishes of this gharana are mainly on the theme of God, devotion and bhakti.

Interviewer:

You don't usually sing thumri, dadra, chaiti and such genres in your gharana?

Jasraj:

See everything is not for every gharana. Those who sing thumri are complete musicians themselves. It requires a different thought process.

Interviewer:

You have also revived Haveli Sangeet. What was the thought behind that?

Jasraj:

I found something in Haveli Sangeet that is not there in present-day classical music. That music is complete in itself. You could call it pushti-margi sangeet or temple music ...

Interviewer:

So who was your mentor for this?

Jasraj:

Everyone we come across, everyone we meet teaches us something in some way. In a way, they are all gurus. Now I am learning something from you, so you are also my guru right now! Whoever shows the way, teaches us something, is a guru. There are so many people—kin and disciples of Shri Vallabhacharya, who are my gurus.

Interviewer:

Let's go back in time Pandit ji. How was your childhood? Tell us something about your gurus and the time when you really had to struggle.

Jasraj:

I am struggling even today. In different phases of life our struggle varies. During childhood, it was a different struggle, then when I grew up it was the struggle to reach out to people, now it is the struggle to reach God.

Interviewer:

But what was the struggle in your musical journey?

Jasraj:

All that is the journey of music only! Each musician is trying to reach God through music.

Interviewer:

Who was your first guru?

Jasraj:

I learnt music from my elder brother, Pandit Maniramji and my father, Pandit Motiramji. And there are so many people whom I met in life and learnt something from them about life. Right now also I am learning from the questions you are asking me, something will get stored in the sub-conscious mind and resurface at some important point in life, maybe in music. My spiritual guru was Maharana Jaiwant Singh ji.

Interviewer:

Do you remember anything extremely significant or special that your gurus said; something that you always abide by?

Jasraj:

My father once told my brother, ‘Beta, if someone is ill and cannot come to your concert, but wants to listen to your music, then you must go to him. Don't hesitate to spend your own money, because money doesn't really belong to anybody. Just go and sing for that person. That is sadhna.’ Here I would like to tell you a very touching incident. Once I was in Delhi and my wife called. She said she had received a phone call from a girl saying that her brother had cancer and was hospitalised at the Tata Memorial Hospital in Mumbai and that he wanted to meet me, to hear me sing. I immediately recalled my father's words and felt it was my duty to respect my father's wishes. So I went to meet this boy. He was only nineteen or twenty years old and very weak—he couldn't even get up when I entered the ward. I felt so sad but controlled my tears. I didn't want to cry in front of him. He was pleased and grateful that I had come and apologised for not being able to greet me properly. He said, ‘When I came to know that I am dying, I had only one wish and that was to meet you. Now I know that since you agreed to come, you will also agree to sing for me. I want to listen to Darbari from you.’ I was overwhelmed with emotion at his words. I tuned my swarmandal for Darbari, calmed myself, closed my eyes and started singing. I sang for forty minutes and when I stopped, he was sitting on his bed. He made another request, ‘Pandit ji my last wish is to listen to Niranjani Narayani—Bhairavi.’ I sang that bandish and because I was meditating on God while singing, when I opened my eyes I saw that the boy was standing on his feet. He did pranam to me and said, ‘You have fulfilled my last wish. I am not at all sad about death now. I don't have anything to give you; I just have this mishri ...’ Earlier the doctors had given up hope and had told his parents to come down from Madras because he didn't have much time left. But the very next day, the boy went back to his home in Madras and lived for another two months. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Interviewer:

That is indeed a miracle! There was another such miracle when your elder brother lost his voice and then it was restored ...

Jasraj:

Yes. Now when I think back I feel that was the day when I actually realised and felt the presence of God. I was fourteen years old at that time. I knew which idol symbolised which God, but I don't think I truly understood and believed in God. My spiritual guru consulted many doctors to get a cure for my brother. But nothing happened. Then suddenly one day he announced, ‘Pandit ji today your voice will come back. Sing for God; sing for that greater power, that's my only condition.’ My brother’s voice was in a very bad state, but suddenly his voice came back and he started singing in the most beautiful voice ever. After that he never had any problems with his voice. That day my spiritual guru made me realise that it doesn't matter by what name you call God, what matters is that one has to truly believe in him.

Interviewer:

Coming to the guru-shishya parampara, sometimes when we hear your disciples, your image is so visible in their music.

Jasraj:

See, when a child is born, we always think about whether he resembles his mother or father, or any other family members. Why? If an African son is born to British parents, will they digest it? Will they call him their child? Maybe they will doubt the mother or be puzzled. The guru-shishya relationship has to be seen in the same light. An emerging musician would definitely resemble his guru. And only when that happens can one say that he is a true shishya. If that doesn't happen it means there is some doubt in the mind of the shishya, or the guru. Music is magic, and it is very infectious. It gets stored in your sub-conscious mind and when it comes out through the throat it comes out after being trained in the respective gharana. Sometimes when you see a good dancer you will see the music in his dance. You can see the meends, gamak, the spaces between the notes, through the dance. And the tenderness of the dancer can be absorbed into the throat, into music. So, if a shishya has not absorbed the style of his guru, then the question that should be asked is what kind of shishya is he? And also what kind of a guru is he, who has not imparted that essence to his shishya?

Interviewer:

But what about the music schools that are so prevalent now?

Jasraj:

See, earlier there were ashrams where children used to live and study and develop into a complete personality. Now all these things are disappearing. Now there are colleges and in those colleges there are professors and teachers, not gurus. So, now the concept of guru is also disappearing. One needs to surrender completely to a guru.

Interviewer:

Sometimes people say that Hindustani classical music is for a class of people. What do you think about that?

Jasraj:

No, not at all. I just don't agree with those people who are suggesting that classical music is not for the masses. If music is not for the masses then how can you call it music? But you know, this segregation regarding who should come for a classical music session or not, is not at all fair. It makes people feel, ‘Oh it's not for the masses so what will we do at this concert?’ In this way we make it elite, we isolate it. Being elite is not about clothes, it's about your thoughts. Look at the age group of people in a concert. It starts from eighteen to twenty years and those youngsters are not from any such 'elite class'. They haven't even started earning yet. No one becomes great just because they have money. Our music is for the masses. Earlier when I used to sing and someone sitting in the audience would be showing his feet to me, to the stage, I used to feel offended because to me music was like an offering I was making to God. I used to feel bad thinking that the person was being disrespectful. But now I feel that God resides in each and everyone and if someone is doing that, it's ok, it's their will, after all God is inside them too.

Interviewer:

How do you select your disciples?

Jasraj:

First I try to sense and understand my disciples. Only when I see that they are devoted to music and want it to be their means of livelihood as well, no, no … don’t get me wrong, I don't mean to say that every musician should make it his livelihood. God gives music to everyone. And music is very dear to God. God said to Narad ji, ‘I live where my devotee sings for me ...’ And that is why our ancestors have gifted this to us and we are gifting it to the next generation. Only those students of music who are serious, devoted and passionate about music become my disciples.

Interviewer:

How do you teach?

Jasraj:

When we start teaching a disciple, we show him the outlines of the gharana, like a painter first sketches, draws an outline of the figures. Then we ask the disciple to fill in the colours into that outline with his visualisation but to never step outside the boundary.

Interviewer:

What advice would you like to give to your followers?

Jasraj:

Whether you become a musician or not, always respect your parents, think of them as your God and then see how many people respect you. Love and respect your guru and your parents and you will sail through life smoothly.

▄ ▄ ▄

2019-12-21T22:49:00.001+05:30

Music is Love

Vidushi Savita Devi:

(7 April, 1941-20 December 2019)

Known for her Purab Ang Gayaki, Vidushi Savita Devi passed away on 20 December 2019. I interviewed Vidushi Savita Devi at her home in New Delhi in 2005, where her mother and guru Vidushi Siddheshwari Devi had left behind a great musical tradition and later a year after the death of her mother in 1978 Savita Devi began her music academy - Siddheshwari Devi Academy of Indian Music. After the interview we became friends and often met as long as she stayed in Delhi. Once she shifted to Gurugram it became difficult for us to meet though we kept promising to meet soon. But today, I really regret...wish we had converted ‘soon’ to reality...wish I had met her when she told me that she wasn’t feeling too good...wish...

As a tribute to the doyen of Hindustani Classical Music who made various forms of classical music like thumri, chaiti, kajri, sawan, etc. popular, here are the excerpts from the interview that I took for Radio Gandharv, Worldspace Satellite Network and now included in the book - Beyond Music-Maestros in Conversation, published by Niyogi books (the book is available on online stores).

Excerpts:

Interviewer:

Your book Maa—Siddheshwari is a very touching biography. Do you miss her too much?

Savita Devi:

I have expressed myself quite openly in the book. However, there are a few memories which I forgot to include in the book. And there’s one particular memory which I would like to share. It is generally believed that with death all ties are snapped. But I do not think so. Even after the death of my mother, I feel her presence everywhere. I often talk to her. You will not believe that I’ve learnt a few bandishes in my dreams from my mother.

Interviewer:

Really? That’s intriguing. How?

Savita Devi:

There were certain pieces that Maa had not taught me completely. I often used to think about it and wonder how to complete it. So, it was in my dreams that Maa taught me. I could hear her singing in my dreams and next morning during riyaaz I discovered that I knew the bandish completely. There’s one more instance. My mother was a great devotee of Uddhav, friend of Lord Krishna. She always used to say that there can be no greater bhakt (devotee) of Lord Krishna like Uddhav. I was sitting here, in my living room and trying to compose one of the bandishes of Baramasa—Uddhav bhor rahi madhukar jayen. I roughly recorded it and when later I listened to it I could distinctly hear another voice along with my own. And that another voice was that of my mother, Siddheshwari Devi. Then I made my son listen to that tape. He too confirmed my doubt.

Interviewer:

This is mystical.

Savita Devi:

Yes, but true. In fact, many a time, whenever I have to go for some big concert I always feel that Maa is with me. Once in Benaras I was supposed to perform jugalbandi with Ustad Bismillah Khan Sahib. I was very nervous. But while I was practising at Khan Sahib’s home, I felt as if Maa was guiding me. That very night I again dreamt about Maa. I saw my childhood home in Benaras and Maa calling me from the wooden stairs. (Her voice chokes, eyes become moist). … It was purely because of her blessings that the next day’s concert went off very well. Even Khan Sahib was very pleased and he blessed me. I believe in mysticism and I always feel her presence around me, protecting me, guiding me.

(At this point her grandchildren return from school and cling to her.)

Interviewer:

At what age did you start learning music?

Savita Devi:

Arre bhai, if I say that my lessons in music began while I was in my mother’s womb, it would not be wrong. She was giving concerts till the last trimester of the pregnancy. I’ll show you one photograph of the concert where all the bigwigs like Ustad Amir Khan Sahib, Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan Sahib, Bal Gandharva, were sitting in the audience and Maa, with me in her womb, was on stage, singing. And as for formal training, I think, it began when I was four or five years old.

Interviewer:

Was she strict?

Savita Devi:

During childhood she taught me lovingly but later on she became very strict. She was stricter with me than with any other student. Any mistake by me was intolerable to Maa. For each mistake the punishment was to practise it hundred more times. She never praised me. Even if somebody would praise me she would always cut them short, ‘Yes ... she would do well, if she practises more.’ Actually she wanted me to study. She always used to say, ‘Sangeet to ghar mein hai … par vidya!’ So, when I was six or seven years old she sent me away to a boarding school in Benaras. To my mother, education was very important. It was only during summer vacations that I used to travel with her for concerts.

Interviewer:

What about your elder sister, Shanta?

Savita Devi:

Maa taught her. She used to sing very well, but unfortunately she died very young.

Interviewer:

When did you give your first public concert, I mean at what age and how were you feeling at that time?

Savita Devi:

See, though I was put in a hostel Maa had arranged for a music tutor there. He was very strict. I received regular canings from him. Can you imagine that at that tender age he taught me dhrupad? I still remember it; you see … I still remember his cane … (laughs aloud). At the age of seven I sang in my school competition and won a gold medal. And during that time, before Independence, a gold medal was made of pure gold. But Maa was so generous that she gifted that gold medal to my tutor. She was that sort … caring and sensitive.

Interviewer:

You had music as your subject?

Savita Devi:

Oh, no, no. Actually Maa had categorically told me not to take music as a subject. First I took science, then Sanskrit and then finally I took music, without informing my mother. I started learning sitar from Bimla Nandan Chatterjee. He used to take sitar lessons in the school. And the first song that I played on the sitar was Jana Gana Mana, our national anthem. Maa was unaware of my change of subject. She came to know much later, after seeing my results, through a letter from our principal.

Interviewer:

And then you must have got a good ticking off.

Savita Devi:

A little bit, but she was pleased that I passed with distinction. And my logic made sense to her. You see, she had asked me not to learn gana, meaning vocal music, not bajaana, instrumental music. So I convinced her that I had not done anything wrong. (She narrates laughingly) … Words, you know … and their interpretation. Anyway, after this she told me to carry on her tradition and to take music seriously. After a few years I came to Delhi and became a lecturer at Daulat Ram College.

Interviewer:

In between you married Pandit Kishan Maharaj (At the time of the interview Pt. Kishan Maharaj was alive. He passed away on 4 May, 2008).. Was your mother happy with your decision?

Savita Devi:

You can say it was destiny. Maa was searching for a right match for me. But most of the families were against my singing. So I told Maa that if I will not be allowed to pursue my art, my kala, then how could I be happy? During this time I met Kishan Maharaj. He was so handsome, good-looking and pleasant that I was completely swept off my feet. We gave many programmes together. Finally, we decided to get married and when I informed Maa she was very annoyed. She and the other members of the family were against it. But it had to happen, so it happened. As I said, it was destined.

Interviewer:

Then why did you separate?

Savita Devi:

Actually, Maharajji was a very dominating personality. See, I married him, thinking that he will encourage me, not throttle my talent. Jab aapse aapki kala hi chheeni jaye tab phir aap bhi to marne lagte hain na bhai (If your art is snatched away from you, you too start dying inside, don’t you)! We had many arguments regarding this. I started feeling suffocated. And finally I had to take a decision … a hard one … You understand what I am trying to say?

Interviewer:

Yes, yes.

Savita Devi:

Besides this, there were many other domestic misgivings. By this time we had two children also. Responsibility of their upbringing … no money … and so many other things, it was becoming chaotic … and before marriage I had resigned my job at Kanpur Degree College, where I was the Head of Department of Music. So, I went back to my mother and she pardoned me. She helped me financially how long could I take financial support from my mother? And I didn’t want my children to study in some municipal school. Once you get married and have children, then you must take up the responsibility also. Nahin? So, I decided to take up the responsibility. I begged Maa for forgiveness. I wrote a letter to her, apologised and requested her to help me. I told her that the future of my two kids was very bleak in Benaras. Maa understood my plight and I came to Delhi. With her blessings I got a job in Daulat Ram College. Thus began my life all over again. After all, how long could I have suffered and jeopardised my children’s future. (She breaks down). I started writing the biography during that time.

Interviewer:

So you started writing the book, Maa— Siddheshwari in the 70s?

Savita Devi:

Yes. This book is an outcome of nearly twenty years of labour.

Interviewer:

In the book you have not mentioned much about your father. Why?

Savita Devi:

Well, he was a retired army personnel. He used to come and stay with us but I had a stepmother and step-siblings too. And most of the time he was away. I wasn’t attached to him. He was my father but there was no affection. It was my mother who brought me up, just like I’ve brought up my children. Kishan Maharaj has not done anything for my children. He is their father, that’s all. The responsibilities that come when one becomes a parent have not been fulfilled by Kishan Maharajji. I have brought them up. Similarly my father was there but it was my mother who really looked after my needs and brought me up.

(The telephone rings. She picks it up and talks about her forthcoming concert.)

Interviewer:

How many kinds of styles are there in thumri?

Savita Devi:

People say there are two kinds of shaili (styles)—Purab ang and Punjab ang. But Bade Ghulam Ali Khan Sahib used to say that there is only one style and that is Purab ang, only the presentation differs. The language used is braj bhasha. Now, you see one raga sung by different maestros will sound different. The notes are the same but the presentation style of each maestro is different. It bears the signature of each maestro. It is the same in thumri gayan also. The same thumri sung by Badi Moti Bai or Siddheshwari Devi or Bade Ghulam Ali Khan Sahib will sound different.

Interviewer:

Why it is that thumri is still not considered to be a form of pure classical music?

Savita Devi:

I do not consider thumri ‘semi-classical.’ I think thumri is a form of pure classical music and I am fighting for it to be recognised as such. You see thumri is a language of emotions—bhaav pradhan. It is a bouquet of different ragas. But just as a painter has to choose which colour combinations will appear beautiful, so is the case with thumri. We have to use an appropriate and rich combination of ragas and swars. There is a proper method to it. It cannot be done blindly. The words are very limited in thumri, but we convey those very words in different emotions. Like for instance take the words Jao wahin tum shyam jahan saari rain jaage ho. It can be improvised in so many ways (she sings—improvising in different ways and decorates it with layers of emotions.) You see, one word can be improvised in so many ways. But in improvising we have to highlight the hidden emotions also. That’s why it is called bhaav pradhan shaili. If there are no emotions in thumri gayan then it is mechanical, technical .

Interviewer:

What kind of an institute is the Siddheshwari Devi Academy of Indian Music?

Savita Devi:

I established this Academy after the demise of Maa. It is to primarily impart education in thumri gayaki. For the last so many years (The Academy was established in March, 1978, a year after the demise of Vidushi Siddheshwari Devi) I am running this institute and imparting education in music. I have many students and they are doing quite well. I have also established an award, honouring Maa—Swar Siddhi. It is given to artistes, in recognition of their contribution to classical music.

Interviewer:

Your children didn’t pursue music. Why?

Savita Devi:

No, they have not taken it up professionally. My elder son, Sanjay, used to play the tabla very well even though he didn’t receive any proper taleem. Unfortunately he died in a car accident. He was only eighteen. (Her voice chokes) I was completely shattered. Even my younger son, Ajay was in that car. He was in the ICU for eleven days. But my elder son died on the spot. It was too devastating. I don’t want to talk about it now.

(She starts crying)

Interviewer:

What is music to you?

Savita Devi:

Music is love. Music is faith. Music is devotion. Music is an offering, a prayer to God. Music makes us reach out to God. Music spreads happiness, peace and unity. It has no boundary. It spreads the message of love and our music, whether of the north or the south, is deep, meditative and it enriches the soul.

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From My Shelf- Int -Fritz Bennewitz-published March 27- 1983- The Hindustan Times

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Dancer PratibhaPrahlad on cultural scenario and promotion of art and art forms http://goo.gl/gY2SE4 

Interviews with Hindustani Classical Music Maestros

2016-06-08T00:36:00.001+05:30

Finally, the book is out - Beyond Music - Conversation with Hindustani classical music maestros .
Soon bringing these interviews on my blog.

2013-07-16T20:31:00.000+05:30

My short story- Just a breath away... has been short listed in Wordweaver Short Story Competition. The link to that is as under:
http://wordweavers.in/short_story_2013_shortlisted_15.html

Read and give your views, friends.
Now waiting for the final results.

khamoshiyaan bolti hain

2011-10-30T01:27:00.000+05:30

Maine adhikansh samay gujara hai
khamosh rah kar,
mein khamosh rahi
bheed main
logo main
kamre main
logo se baat karte hue bhi mein khamosh rahi

khamosh rahi main
par kisne kaha ki khamoshi ka matlab hota hai
kamzor hona,
kamzor padna

nahin dost...
aag hai abhi baaqi
chalne do mujhe
jalne do mujhe

kyonki khamoshiyaan bhi bolti hain!

Interview: Vikram Sampat—a multifaceted author

2010-11-10T20:19:00.000+05:30

Vikram Sampat—a multifaceted author

He is a writer, a musician and works in a multinational company. He didn’t take up music as a career ashe feels, “I have seen that when one takes music as a career then there are lots of other factors that start affecting music itself. Whereas with something else to fall back on, I could pursue music as I wanted and not let financial constraints dominate my passion.” Before leaving for Germany on Fellowship, I met him in Delhi for a short time. Here’s excerpt from that informal chat:

Geeta: Your book My Name is Gauhar Jaan has got positive reviews. But what has been readers’ response, any idea?

Vikram: Thank you Geetaji for giving me this opportunity to share my work with you. The response has been very heartening. It is something which I never expected because you know within two months of it launch in April by the Vice President of India, the book sold out its first edition. So now we are having a second edition, and we are also having translations in Bengali and Marathi.

Geeta: Oh, that’s wonderful!

Vikram: (Smilingly) Yes, and it’s heartening to know that life of a classical musician too has a market.

Geeta: The book has been launched in various cities. Is it publisher’s vision or your efforts?

Vikram: Well, it is largely my own doing because I am very passionate about the subject and also wanted to ensure that Gauhar Jaan get a rightful place in the pantheon of Hindustani Classical music...so in almost all the cities some of the best musicians came forward and launched the book. In Bangalore, it was Pt. Jasraj, Girija Deviji in Calcuta and Shivji in Mumbai, Arti Ankalekar in Pune and so on.

Geeta: But how did you manage to get such great musician for your launch?

Vikram: Ah...ha! Well, I just wrote to them, requested and pleaded...many of them refused. Some didn’t...and then I think somewhere the topic, and the name struck a chord with them. Besides this, I had to finalize venue, chief guest, invites... all of that and many other things of organizing an event. I had to do it all alone. Now, more than a writer, I think, I have become an expert event manager...ha...ha...ha!

Geeta: And you did all this on your own or you had an assistant?

Vikram: No...Just me... sleep was the biggest casualty.

Geeta: But how did you manage the finances required for the launches?

Vikram: Various organizations came forward in support. Like in Bangalore there’s International Music & Art Society which hosted it, in Calcutta, because it’s a local story, Taj Bengal was very keen to host it, in Chennai there’s Madras Book Club that came forward. So in this way it was taken care of and it helped me a lot because it brought in the efficiencies of that organization to its members, interested readers, etc. All this helped me a lot.

Geeta: Well, now let’s move away from the logistics and go back on the creative aspect of it. What inspired you to write a book on Gauhar Jaan?

Vikram: This and my previous book had been very serendipitous. It is only by accident that I have become an author. It started off at the age of 12 or 13 when TV serial, Sword of Tipu Sultan was being telecast. There the Maharaja and the Maharani of Mysore were shown in a poor light. There was a lot protest in my home town—Bangalore and at other places because the royal family is still held in a lot of reverence. So as a child it was more of a childish curiosity to know the truth behind the false representation. It led me on a 14 year voyage of discovery that led me to my first book Splendours of Royal Mysore-The Untold story of the Wodeyars. And this book led me to Gauhar Jaan. It was during the course of research of this book that I came across Gauhar’s name in Mysore Palace archive. Though she was from Calcutta, she spent her last years in Mysore and died there. The fact that she was the first Indian classical musician to record on the Gramophone, attracted me, and that’s where I started on my voyage on her life.

Geeta: What problems did you face in researching on her?

Vikram: It was a Herculean task because, as you know, documentation in the field of art and music is something that we woefully lack. Lot of information is passed on through a word of mouth, anecdotal. I made several trips to Calcutta, Darbhanga, Rampur, Banaras, Mysore, Mumbai, all places that played significant roles in her life. I met old timers, musicologists, musicians who survived, but other than that I was keen to get some original documents related to her. After all, whatever they told me was just stories, which one keeps hearing from time to time. There were two very famous court cases that she fought in her life which I tried to get from the Calcutta High Court and other places. This created a template to build her life story. In one case, she actually had to prove her parentage and during the course of that case her entire lineage gets exposed, her father, grandfather, mother and so on. So that became one important source. Then I gave importance to the memoirs of Friedrich William Gaisberg, expert who came to record her. I managed to procure his memoire from Germany. His diary jottings had very elaborate details, of how he met her; how she came dressed to the studio, and how she bargained for a higher fee. In a typical European fashion, he had catalogued everything. So this also became a very important source. Then the book of poems—Makhzan-E-Ulfat-E-Mallika by Gauhar’s mother, Badi Malka Jaan. This I procured from London—the only copy. It had 600 ghazals, penned by her and a short biographical sketch. All this along with newspaper reports of the time, obituary, cases in the court flashed in the newspapers became my research material.

Geeta: What about the incidents about her giving lavish parties when her cat gave birth to kittens and many other similar incidents that you have mentioned in your book?

Vikram: Well, some of it is apocryphal stories. These have been passed on from generation to generation and have been accepted as the truth. But several of them have been mentioned in Bangla literature, and they have accounts of eye witnesses, her contemporaries. One thing that comes out from Bangla literature is that she was very flamboyant and extravagant.

Geeta: You have been learning classical music also. What stopped you from taking it as a career?

Vikram: It would have been a dream come true...but somehow I have seen that when one takes music as a career then there are lots of other factors that start affecting music itself. Whereas with something else to fall back on, I could pursue music as I wanted and not let financial constraints dominate my passion.

Geeta: Your parents are also into music or writing?

Vikram: No, both are bankers and Kaansen. We are a regular feature in all the concerts. Actually. with Tamilian father, Maharashtrian mother and living in Karnataka, I naturally developed a flair for languages. It all came quite naturally to me.

Geeta: So, India coming together in your household...

Vikram: Sort of...ha...ha...ha...

Geeta: Now what next?

Vikram: Haven’t thought about it but right now I am going to Germany for three months on Fellowship to Institute for Advanced Study in Berlin, Germany, to do research on Music and History.

Geeta: Thanks a lot Vikram and wishing you all the best for future projects.

Vikram : Thanks. It was wonderful talking to you.

on short story being commended

2010-08-27T00:42:00.000+05:30

It was like any other day, doing my usual work and thinking about stories, characters and plot. But as I opened my email box there in was stored a surprize for me. My short story- Living in Shadows has been highly commended in global competition. It made my day...I was just too happy...elated...at last!!
Well, I'll share my feelings some other time; right now is the link to that story-
http://www.globalshortstories.net/Globalshortstories%20winners%20july%2010.pdf

Till next time

The Last Meeting with the Legend

2009-07-26T22:50:00.000+05:30

It was a moment of truth.
Our Ajji is no more. The legend of Hindustani Classical Music, Padmavibhushan Dr. Gangubai Hangal, passed away on the morning of July 21. It took me sometime to realise the magnitude of this loss, not only for me, but for the entire Hindustani classical music world. And as the truth dawned upon me, memories came flooding back.
It was only a year ago that as Programme Director of Radio Gandharv-24 hour Hindustani Classical Music Station on Worldspace Satellite Radio, I was trying to take the interview of the stalwart, who had come out of the shackles of baiji culture, and carved her own respectability in the vast ocean of classical music. Since childhood, I had seen how people – musicians and common men bow their head in reverence to the very mention of the name— Gangubai Hangal. For me her life struggle was as intriguing and mesmerising as her music with those spectacular taans, serene alaaps, easy transitions from one saptak to another and above all her deep, resounding ‘masculine voice.’
I wanted to meet the woman behind the music, the real Gangubai Hangal. Just before her 96th birthday, last year, I received a telephone call from Hubli, informing that Dr. Gangubai Hangal would like to talk to me. It was a priceless moment. She invited me to visit her, “Beta, come down to Hubli...I do not know how long will I live...I listen to your station, Radio Gandharv, whole day...it is very good...come to Hubli...I want to talk to you...” I was speechless.
The very next day, I along with my team, reached her home— Ganga Lahari in Deshpande Nagar, Hubli. Draped in a purple saree, Gangubai Hangal did not look that old or ill. Rather she was bubbling with energy, like a child who has too much in her heart to share with her friends. “I am very fond of playing cards,” she confided, revealing a set of cards under her pillow, “Kumar Gandharva and I used to play whenever he used to come here or if we were together in a concert...” And who used to win? “I...most of the time.” She replied quickly, laughing heartily.

Remembering her days with guru-bhai Pt. Bhimsen Joshi, her eyes turned moist. “He used to accompany me to the railway station with a lantern, he used to do all the household chores at our guru, Pt. Sawai Gandharva’s place, he used to fetch the water himself! But now I hear he is not well.” And as I was trying to revive her memories of her younger days, her struggling days, she often digressed and came back to the present, “Where is my magazine... when is doctor coming... when do we have to go for pooja...?” It was as if she did not want to visit the bylanes of her pain and struggle.
“I think she is tired now. Moreover, after a while she has to go as a chief guest to inaugurate a pooja,” her grandson Manoj Hangal told us apologetically.

We returned the next day, more determined to uncover memories about the days when she feared being ostracized by the rigid social system. We reached her place early next morning to find her surrounded by little guests—school children who had come to seek her blessings. “Do you sing?” She asked, gladly joining them as they clapped and sang. With them she became a child. Full of enthusiasm and excitement. The children were not ready to leave her and she regaled them with her childhood stories. It was only after repeated requests by the family members that she agreed to return to her room. And hardly had she entered her room when she was joined by another guest, a VIP. And instead of being tired or breathless, she enthusiastically entertained him. Both of them started talking about music. “Ajji is busy the whole day. People love her and she loves talking, particularly about music,” said Manoj Hangal. I decided to steal a few moments and asked her, ‘Ajji, how was it singing in the 1923 Congress session?’ Prompt came the reply, “Oh, that...I was in school then...We were taught an invocatory song at school and taken to the session. Mahatma Gandhi was sitting in front of us. Everybody liked our singing. But I was frightened that after the session I would be sent outside and not allowed to eat with the others...there were a lot of prejudices regarding caste at that time.”
Time erased those differences. As she gained popularity in music, the differences of caste and the social stigma of being the daughter of a baiji faded away. Though her mother was a Carnatic musician, Gangubai Hangal learnt Hindustani. “On my way back from school I used to stop at a small shop where they used to play gramophone records. I would stand there and listen to Hindustani music—a bandish that I still remember from those days is 'Radha bolo mukh se'. I was enchanted by Hindustani music. All the time I was singing lines from those compositions. Seeing this, my mother decided that I should learn Hindustani music and to find the right guru for me she sold off our house in Dharwad and we shifted to Hubli...She sacrificed her life for me. She stopped singing...She was so young when she died, only 35. She had an operation and her stitches came out. She was there through our tough times but she didn't live to see all that I achieved.” Choked with emotion, she was lost in her world of memories when another guest knocked and she was off to attend a public function.
It was hot and sunny outside. The heat was debilitating. But nothing could unsettle Gangubai Hangal. The wheel chair, the weather, her health—nothing at all could kill her spirits. Even at the age of 96 she was ready to perform and missed her daughter, Krishna, who used to accompany her in concerts. “She used to sing very well and she learnt it on her own as a child...she is no more....I don’t feel like singing without her...”
Ajji’s life revolved around music. Despite organisers’ time bound restrictions on her, she sang and won many a heart. “Gangubai gayegi...they used to announce, and I would sing. Once, in the early days, they told me I had only 15 minutes to sing. I was so upset, but Bismillah Khan who was also at that concert, encouraged me. Often organisers used to doubt my singing, seeing my small size.” Saying this she burst into laughter. And I reminded her that all good things come in small sizes!!! “But it has its problems too...see now I don’t even get my footwear so easily...” Her laughter continued to echo in the room, joined by all of us.

Ajji sang everywhere. There was a time when she was invited to each and every concert. She often had to travel, leaving her children and ailing huband behind because she had to perform to keep the family afloat. She stayed in the same house in Hubli throughout her life. “How can I sell or renovate this house where my guruji (Pt. Sawai Gandharv) stayed?” Throughout her life she hung on to the memories of her guruji, mother, maternal uncle and daughter. “They were there with me through the hard time but none of them lived to see the recognition I got. That's the way life is...” Her mother’s photograph is kept on the side table, along with a few music magazines. While talking to us her eyes often travelled to that side table and on not finding an issue of the magazine, she immediately called her grand daughter, “...Where’s that issue...Kesarbai’s photograph was in that...”She could only rest after that magazine was deposited safely back in her hands. “See, this is Kesarbai...she was the queen...”
It was getting late and Ajji was chatting happily. She wanted to share many more experiences with us. But for the family members and doctor’s strict orders we had to leave. Little did we know that this was our last meeting with the legend.

Today, she is no more. But we will always remember her warm smile, her indomitable spirit, her enthusiasm and caring nature, her self-deprecating humility, modesty and her fierce pride in preserving her self-respect. Such people are rare to find. We have to meet them to understand the truth about life, music, devotion, passion and simplicity. The last meeting will last forever...▄