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Genius in search of a true note

Gautam Chatterjee

A tribute to shehnai maestro Ustad Bismillah Khan, 1916-2006

VARANASI: A life constantly in search of the right sur. Something that he always tried to find in not just his music but in his human relationships too. This was his only prayer, and sadly, this had been his only crisis.

Yes, despite immense love from the public, despite great recognition for his art, shehnai maestro Ustad Bismillah Khan had always been a lonely man. Soft-spoken and often at ease with his lonely state, he used to celebrate his solitude musically in his dilapidated terrace room in Varanasi and tried to share it directly with the blue, clear sky. His gentle, if sad, eyes gave him away even as he often asked: Kyun nahi lagta ek sahi sur kisi bhi rishte mein jise Khuda ne banaya (Why don't we find a correct equation in a human relation if it is created by God?) He was compelled to perform for money to keep his family going but this humble genius was never on the lookout for material happiness but only craved human love. Ironically, this is what he got in minimum measure from those who were said to be close to him.

In his 20s, when he used to go to Balaji Temple at the Balaji Ghat in Varanasi, and did riyaz (by dint of this he got the light of music), he first noticed that the number eight was significant in his life. The sum of the numbers of his year of birth, 1916, is eight. He got the first national award, the Padma Shri, in 1961, again eight. Mai ta-umar anahad naad ki khoj me raha aur sunta raha ahat naad ko kyunki mera wajud qaid hai is badan mein. Mai jab isse azad hounga tabhi ahat naad ka gham khatm hoga aur sun sakunga anahat ko (During my entire life I heard the stuck sound since my life is encompassed in this body, whereas I have always wanted to listen to the unstuck sound. I will be able to do it when I will be free from this body.) And he got his ultimate freedom in this eighth month of this year.

His admirers in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s would recall his divine smile when he would mount the stage for a concert. He enjoyed the company of his listeners, the people who shared with him musically and humanly.

The Ustad wanted to share this sentiment with his sons and other family members but they could hardly seem to appreciate the mood and the temperament. He loved them a lot but was not always able to communicate clearly with them. Mujhe kuch nahi chahiye. Mai sirf khuda se mangta hun ek saccha sur jo mujhe abad kare aur is jahan ko abad rakhe (I need nothing. I beg simply from God a true note so that I find rest in myself and the same for the world).

Main ahat hun lekin suron mein hun, aur ek waqt ayega jab mai ahat nahi hunga kyunki suron mein anahat ki bhi vyavastha kar rakhi hai Khuda ne... (I am Ahat but in a sequence of sur the day will come when I will not be Ahat, for the God has arranged the Anahat in his pure divine notes...) Khan Saheb was trying to recollect his days with Arjun Singh, now Union Minister for Human Resource, the day before his final departure in a hospital here, but his failing body was not ready to free him yet. Without bothering to utilise the precious little moments on the things of this material world, the Ustad sang a line of kajari (the traditional monsoon song in Uttar Pradesh) which connotes this: "Life is a song of viraha, the departure from those whom we love most."

Among a generation of artistes who left behind a family heir, Ustad deserves credit for not perpetuating the stereotype. Among his disciples, there is nothing called blood lineage as the Ustad spread the fragrance of his knowledge and sur far and wide among anonymous seekers. His sons merely have the responsibility of preserving the tradition.

The Ustad passed away the way he lived: in his favourite Varanasi, shortly after having rendered a couple of songs.

(Gautam Chatterjee is a freelance writer and author, who specialises in Benaras traditions.)

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