Ustad Bismillah Khan Passes away - Page 7

Nostalgic Notes

Shehanai maestro Ustad Bismillah Khan, have.

Wah! Ustad

Treading the grandly named Bharat Ratna Ustad Bismillah Khan Marg, a narrow lane in the thickly populated Benia Bagh locality of Varanasi is something of a pilgrimage. At the end of it when you reach the modest white abode of the man after whom the narrow lane is named, you are on your way to becoming a believer.

The doors to the Ustad's home are open as always and one is led into a narrow baithak the walls of which are plastered with the countless awards that have come the way of the man who is the grandest living exponent of the shehnai, a modest instrument played only at weddings before Khan Saab took it to his lips and produced a magical sweetness from it.

Every morning, from nine in the morning to noon, the Ustad welcomes the whole world into his home. The rest of the time is reserved for his namaaz, riyaaz and tackling the mundane responsibilities of looking after a household of 72 members that include two daughters and five sons.

But the entire family is a little wary of approaching the Ustad when he is irritable or preoccupied. No rules, however, apply to Ghazi, the Ustad's two-year-old great grandson who arrives unannounced to demand cookies from a jar that's kept in his great grand dad's room especially for him. And the Ustad, despite the pain in his knees gets up for the jar every single time.

If it weren't for his age, which his family says is 95 and not 91 as the media projects, one would almost be tempted to be playful with the Ustad. There is a mischievous glint in his eye as he regales you with anecdotes.

Sample this one about his devotion to the Balaji temple. He tells you that devotees wash the stones with Ganga jal (water) and bucketfulls of the water are thrown over its stone steps. "The maulvis frown at my visits to the temple, so I say to myself the same stone that is inside lies outside as well. So I touch the outside stone with my hand and mumble my prayer to it." And then the toothy grin comes back. "But I won't tell you what I say," he says before breaking off into a throaty laugh that is followed by a hymn. "Tu hi nirankaar, tu hi sab sansaar, Tu hi tu, tu hi jaal thal main…" (You are formless, You are the world, it's just You, You are in water and in the land). And before you delight at the fact that here is India's greatest shehnai player singing for you, he cuts in with "Kya main tujhe dekh raha hoon" (Am I looking at you?) And answers: "Nah, when I sing it is only sur and Allah."

That's one more thought he's had a tough time explaining to the maulvis who act as the keepers of his faith. "Tabiyat jhela dete hain," (they irritate me) he says of their constant objections that music and songs have no place in the life of the truly devout.

There is another famously quoted anecdote on that one. Once a learned maulauna from Iraq fell into an argument over the issue with Khan Saab. The Ustad's response was typical. "I sang the name of Allah. I asked him to deny that his azaan had no sur to it. I told him you can't see Allah but you believe in Him. The same goes for sur. The maulvi fell silent."

Sipping his tea from a chipped saucer, the Ustad continues. "There are just two things I know. One is Allah, the other is sur. The rest means nothing. Kya Hindu, kya Muslim. Kya jaat (caste), kya khaandaan (family), all are one in the eyes of God and music."

But one has to look after a family so big, housed in a 10-room-double-storeyed home, that's desperately in need of repairs, there are apparently other practicalities to note.

And so this morning the Ustad is negotiating with two teachers from Darbhanga University in Bihar. The duo has been sent across to find out when the Ustad would be free to perform at Darbhanga, an erstwhile princely estate where the Ustad gave numerous performances in his youth.

On his birthday in March, the Ustad had expressed a wish to perform in Darbhanga. And the two teachers claim the clamour to get him there hasn't died down since then.

But the Ustad is obviously no hard-nosed businessman. He speaks of being looked after well, fed well (believe it or not on khichdi and mango chutney!) and of travelling in comfort. His secretary interjects that there is no plane that flies to Darbhanga. "Ama chodo yaar, hum train se jayenge," he interjects as he trails off to narrate another cherished memory, that of bathing in the lakes of the estate and performing for the Raja Bahadur.

Jawed Ahmed, the 42-year-old who doubles up as Khan Saab's media manager and secretary, frowns that the media constantly harps on the fact of the Ustad having turned greedy. "His health is failing. He is no longer able to give as many performances and even the invitations have dried up. Where is the regular income? It is not that the whole family is feeding off him but Khan Saab feels the responsibilities of a patriarch. And that's something he's not going to let go of," Ahmed reasons.

The logic makes sense when you see the tiny second floor room Khan Saab has chosen to live in. There is a table fan, an ordinary cot on which lies his shehnai, an old mosquito net, a dustbin and a spittoon that are the sum total of his worldly possessions.

His diet is simple and there is nothing he cherishes more than rotis with desi ghee, arhar daal and khichdi. His meat and fish eating days are few and far between. But in these habits he is finicky and speaks of a 1969-70 American tour where his entire party ate self-cooked khichdi for the three months he was performing. "I don't trust the cooking in foreign lands," he lets in.

There is another interesting side to his worldly travels. Khan Saab was apparently terrified of air travel and used all sorts of ploys to wriggle out of invitations to perform in foreign lands.

But in 1966, when he was invited to play in Edinburgh he asked for his entire party first to be sent on Haj before he would set foot on a plane. Wish complied, he flew away and has since then performed across the globe to wondrous appreciation.

The Ustad himself deeply appreciates Lata Mangeshkar, who was awarded the Bharat Ratna the same year as him.

"I tried to pick if she would ever turn besura but could not. Bahut meethi hai," he says without pretence. But that's not an opinion he holds of other singers of the day. It's a diplomatic "Everyone is good" he offers before humming "Ek saadhe, sab saadhe, sab saadhe, sab khoye," which roughly translates into "this, that, those who try to be the jack of all trades, fail."

But it's the same sense of failure that also haunts Nayyar Husain Khan, Ustad's second son, the one who is regarded the second best shehnai player in the family.

He does not hide his disappointment when he speaks of his father's inability to promote his sons in the manner done by some other doyens of Indian music.

"Since the age of seven my father tutored me. And believe me, he was a tough task master making sure there were at least eight hours of practice while he himself would put in double the time," Khan recalls. But those hours of practice have not translated into a similar greatness for Nayyar and he draws upon the analogy of the Banyan tree which does not permit anything else to grow under its shade. It was a thought that plagued Muggan Bibi, the Ustad's late wife as well. "Ammi jaan wanted Baba to establish us during his lifetime," Nayyar shrugs.

But any cloud of doubt that the son might have about the distinction of his birth is quickly dispelled. "I am the son of Ustad Bismillah Khan. Mukesh, Vilayat Khan, Amir Khan…tell me who left behind an heir?" he says in proud declaration that comes despite the fact that his shirt is frayed and that he has been unable to go to a doctor to get his watering eyes checked.

When you walk back the lane from Ustad Bismillah Khan's home, it's the same sense of pride you take back with you. And you know you'd be a believer for life.

Pujaa Awastthi

Ya khuda teri duniya hai ke zulmatkada hai
Nit roz isme hua humpe ik zulm naya hai

Only other day I was watching TV when DD was paying tribute to Ustaad saab. He revealed the importance of place where he used to do his riyaaz. He shared this divine experience of his with his elder and told that he received a good thrashing for telling about it. He never told about it ever again. Some things are direct blessings from above. Bismillah was one. Only that day I came to know that he was a good singer too. He was singing some 'gazal-like' thing and was no less mesmerizing than his magical shehnai.

Ustaad, now when you yourself have become one with the divine it would not be tough for you to bestow your blessings upon who can atleast be capable of having a fraction of your shehnai bhakti.

Will always miss you dear ustaad.

Ustad Bismillah was sportsman too

"Music has no boundaries, no language!" - Ustad Bismillah Khan

Legendary Shehnai maestro Ustad Bismillah Khan passed away on August 21, 2006 due to a cardiac arrest. He was ninety years old. The Government of India declared one day of national mourning.
He was the third classical musician to be awarded the Bharat Ratna, the highest civilian honor in India. He also had the distinction of being one of the few people to be awarded all the top four civilian awards. I had a great privilege of meeting and chatting with him during one of his concerts couple of years back. "Music has no boundaries, no language - it is a message of pure love that is divine", said the maestro. In an exclusive interview, the Bharat Ratna was anguished over the way decline in the classical music has set in our country. He said given the pace in which the things have been moving, it seems time is not far away when for listening to our classical music we have to go abroad.
He has played in Afghanistan, Europe, Iran, Iraq, Canada, West Africa, USA, USSR, Japan, Hong Kong and almost every capital city across the world.
He narrated an incident, when he was offered car, house, servants, money and even the nationality during a concert in Europe. 'But I refused all of them, and in turn asked my admirer 'can he get my 'Gangaji', the river which flows near his home in Benaras, the holy city of the Hindus, and with whose water he does ablution before praying every day.
Despite his fame, Khan's lifestyle retained its old world Benares charm. His chief mode of transport was the cycle rickshaw. A man of tenderness, he believed in remaining private, and that musicians are supposed to be heard and not seen. Born on March 21, 1916, he was the second son of his parents, Paigambar Khan and Mitthan. He was christened as Qamaruddin initially, before his grandfather uttered Bismillah after looking at the newborn. His ancestors were court musicians in the princely state of Dumraon in Bihar, India. He received his training under his uncle, the late Ali Baksh 'Vilayatu', a Shehnai player attached to Varanasi's Vishwanath Temple. He was a devout Shi'a, but he worshipped goddess Saraswati as well. He often played at various temples and on the banks of the river Ganga in Varanasi, besides playing outside the famous Vishwanath temple in Varanasi. The doyen of Indian classical music held Shehnai first when he was probably five or six. He gave his first performance in the aristocratic city of Lucknow when he was barely 14. Ustad Bismillah Khan was perhaps single handedly responsible for making the Shehnai a famous classical instrument. He brought the Shehnai to the center stage of Indian music with his concert in the Calcutta All India Music Conference in 1937. Ustadji had a rare honor of performing at Delhi's Red Fort on the eve of India's Independence in 1947. Recalling his most memorable performances, Bismilah Khan said 'it was playing on 15th August 1947 with Pandit Nehru and host of dignitaries listening'. It was Khan Sahib who poured his heart out into Raga Kafi from the Red Fort on the eve of India's first Republic Day ceremony, on January 26, 1950. He was credited with having almost monopoly over the instrument as him and Shehnai are almost synomyms. His recital had almost become a cultural part of the Independence Day Celebrations telecast on Doordarshan every year on August 15th. After the Prime Minister's speech from Lal Qila (Red Fort) in Old Delhi, Doordarshan would broadcast live performance by the Shehnai maestro. And this tradition had been going on since the days of Pandit Nehru. The octogenarian recalling his childhood said when he was not playing Shehnai, he enjoyed swimming in the Ganges the most. He said this sport came to him naturally due to the proximity with the river. He attributes his ability to play Shehnai at this ripe age to swimming which requires strong lungs to blow the wind instrument. In one of the rare moment's music composer A.R Rehman facilitated the maestro with Amir Khusro life time achievement award. Ustad in an impromptu remark told Rehman; 'where were you, so far I have just heard of you, it is for the first time I am meeting you.' 'Nevertheless I take your name five times a day during my prayers, he quipped.' Rehman is one of the names of the God. He showered his blessings on the young musician and said 'he prays that God gives you a long life to attain the great heights in the music world.' To this Rehman shot back; 'even I take your name any number of times in a day, by saying Bismillah, before starting anything new. Bismillah means, 'I start in the name of Allah.' Rehman said that while listening to Ustad he felt crying, as so griping were his compositions. He said he was amazed that at 86, Ustad is playing the instrument like a kid. Rahman recalled, he had tried to learn playing Shehnai, but gave it up within a week finding it too difficult to handle. The maestro had some words of wise advice to the lovers of the Hindustani classical music. 'It is the duty of every elder to teach the children their musical moorings!'. He stresed that 'everything may not be learnt, but at least the basics could be grasped which is essential to understand the soul of any music.' He also confessed that 'earlier there was a lot of taboo to learn music but now things have changed for better.'

Ustad Bismillah Khan will forever be remembered as one of the finest musicians in post-independent Indian Classical music, and one of the best examples of hindu-muslim unity in India. His concept of music was very beautiful and his vision, superb. He once said, "Even if the world ends, the music will still survive!"