I have to confess You Tube can be quite addictive particularly when I manage to find something as wonderful as this track sung by the inimitable Shobha Gurtu : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lkDV5VlO3bY

What a voice and what an amazingly impassioned “pukaar” in the singing. Too bad we don’t give our great artistes befitting memorials.

Ask a Hindustani classical musician what he or she will perform at a concert and most likely, you’ll get a lot of humming and hawing or a non-commital dekhenge, kyaa mood bantaa hai…. or something equally ambivalent. Which is what leads me to wonder how and what is leading classical musicians featured in the Live Preview section of Time Out Mumbai to disclose, possibly weeks in advance, what exactly they will render in a forthcoming concert. At times, the column mentions that the featured artiste is “likely to present” ragas such as this, that and the other. But most vocalists seem to have no problems mentioning names of ragas they are likely to present or have already decided to present. And so I am led to wonder whether we are witnessing a new trend in which performers are actually planning what to sing in advance?

Oh btw, it is usually singers who seem to disclose their repertoire in advance. Check out Page 83 in the March 21 to April 3, 2008 Live Preview segment of Time Out Mumbai. It features a total of 3 previews of upcoming concerts by tabla player Suresh Talwalkar, sitar and Hawaiian guitar duo Rajiv Janardan and Kamala Shankar, and vocalist Yashasvi Sarpotdar respectively. Of these, Talwalkar does not report or perhaps was not asked which taal he is likely to play. Interestingly, we are told that he is “the only tabla soloist who engages a vocalist to provide the nagma”. But the preview makes no mention of either the name of the accompanying vocalist or the raags in which he/she will sing bandishes as nagma. Oh well ! It could have been a problem with the phone interview which we are told was conducted to get information for this event.

Next we read about the sitar -Hawaiian guitar duet between the husband-wife due Rajiv Janardan and Kamala Shankar where the artistes are reported to have said that their jugalbandi “is a meeting of souls, not a mere musical duet”. Er, umm, now what on earth is that supposed to mean? I mean, the musical duets we mortals have heard about are the famous Ali Akbar Khan-Ravi Shankar jugalbandis, or the Bismillah Khan-Vilayat Khan jugalbandi, or the Girija Devi-Shobha Gurtu jugalbandi (also available in a 2 Cd set released by Sa Re Ga Ma, I think) and several others too. I mean, were these “mere” musical duets or what? Anyhow, the soulful pair does not reveal or were not asked to reveal what listeners could expect when their souls meet at Balvikas Sangha Hall, Fri Mar21, and oooh ! yummy! once again at Rachana Sansad on Mar 24.

But 28 year old vocalist Yashasvi Sarpotdar we are told is likely to sing compositions in Shree, Kedar and Marwa at Savarkar Kendra Hall, Tue Mar 25. And in the same Live Preview segment of the January 25 to February 7, 2008 issue of Time Out Mumbai we were informed that vocalist Shubhangi Sakhalkar (ok, she is 43 years old though we didn’t ask) is likely to sing “medium-tempo compositions in ragas such as Shree Kalyan and Kedar that were popularised by Gandharva” at Paranjape Vidyalaya Hall, Sun Jan 27. And in the same issue we are informed that vocalist Suhasini Koratkar (she’s 70 years old we are informed) is “likely to sing ragas such as Hamsadhwani, Jhinjhoti and Kalavati” at Alok Hall, Sun Feb 3. Once again, veteran (75 year old) tabla player Suresh (Bhai) Gaitonde is not asked details of the repertoire he will present at Shanmukhananda Hall, Sun Feb 3. But then again, in the latest issue, we are informed that vocalist Yogesh Hunswadkar is likely to perform Puriya Dhanashri, Adi Basant and Khamaj Bahar at his concert on May 4, 2008. See an emerging trend here?

Seriously, does this pattern not suggest one or more of the following:

1. That it’s a format that Time Out Mumbai correspondent/correspondents AD and/or Amarendra Dhaneshwar is/are following for the Live preview segment to provide information about the age of each performer and the repertoire that the vocalists will present. I don’t know if the instrumentalists were also asked for repertoire details but chose not to give them, but as you can see, the 3 issues that I have referred to tend to follow a pattern re vocalists alone. But do we really need to know about every artistes age? I don’t think it really matters, unless a listener is really particular about attending a recital only by the above 70s or the under 30s and so on and so forth. Personally, I can’t see myself deciding not to attend a concert because an artist is only 35 years old, or changing my mind about attending let’s say, an Ulhas Kashalkar concert because the preview reports that he will present Miyan Malhar. So these are more or less irrelevant details in my opinion unless a specific theme or specially curated or composed repertoire is being presented.

2. Planning repertoire for a concert is not unknown in the Hindustani music tradition. It is common knowledge that the legendary Kumar Gandharva would plan the repertoire for forthcoming concerts meticulously and actually refer to beautifully penned hand written pages with repertoire details including song texts. It is also said that D.V.Paluskar maintained a diary where he also penciled in repertoire details for concerts, but I have no solid proof of this and neither have I seen the documents myself. Other luminaries like Kesarbai Kerkar too are said to have carefully planned their repertoire for each concert, so it is not surprising or out of the ordinary to note that artistes plan their presentations weeks in advance and are even willing to publish them. What is surprising is the general unwillingness of many musicians to disclose what they are going to perform even to a fellow musician slated to perform right after them at a festival. Ask a musician performing before you what raag they plan to present, and most often they will either avoid giving a definite answer or perhaps say something and perform something quite different. Or, if they have decided to give you a hard time, they could fob you off by giving the name of a raag, and then perform the same raag that you begin to warm up with in the green room .

In fact, there is generally a fair deal of paranoia about repertoire. Some great musicians in the yesteryears are reported to have even gone so far as to refuse to disclose the name of a complex or rare raag while in concert for fear that imitators would learn their compositions and hijack them for future use! Worse, teachers are said to have taught the same rare composition to different disciples but with different raag names assigned to the same piece. So all in all, classical musicians have a tendency to be rather secretive about repertoire not just before a concert but even in concert.

3. Or are we able to shrug off the paranoia in exchange for some good publicity? So we hum and hedge and haw when asked otherwise but agree to providing details when asked by a leading magazine.

4. We provide the details when asked but don’t stick to the published repertoire when actually performing, because after all, there’s no law to prevent artistes from changing their minds, is there? In which case, the details aren’t really necessary are they?

5. These details seem to be important only for the Mumbai correspondents, because Live Preview in the Time Out Delhi issues usually filed by Arunabha Deb, (yet another AD) doesn’t disclose either the artiste’s age or repertoire thankfully. It just gives you a brief about the featured artiste.

Of course, neither Mumbai nor Delhi think its important to mention the names of accompanying musicians in previews or reviews. I guess thats a telling comment on the status of accompanying artistes when neither main artistes nor journalists think them worthy of even a one-line mention. Guess this is one trend that ain’t changing soon.

I meant to write about something else this fortnight but then you see, I got all busy and worked up trying to figure out these new immigration laws that us Indian, but non-Maharashtrian, musicians have to deal with sooner or later. I mean, now that the new immigration department of Mumbai has told even the legendary Amitabh Bachchan that he isn’t welcome in Mumbai any longer, I guess we lesser mortals had better pack up and leave for places with friendlier climes, or we had better go stand in long queues and apply for Maharashtrian visas.

Oh look, who’s going to be joining me in the visa queues! Santoor great, Pandit Shivkumar Sharma! No offence meant, but after all, he’s from Jammu, so he will need a new Mumbai/Maharashtra visa, won’t he? And that man there, with the long thin tube-like case under his arm? Doesn’t he look like Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia? Of course, that’s him, and rightly so, because he is a UP-wala after all. Who’s the guy humming Piya Basanti behind him? Looks familiar, doesn’t he? He’s the great sarangi nawaz, Ustad Sultan Khan. They say he’s from Sikar, Rajasthan, so of course he needs to be in this queue.

I have to say that this is turning out to be one long rocking queue – tabla nawaz Zakir Hussain with brother Fazal Qureshi and Taufiq Qureshi (their father came from Punjab and while the three brothers were born in Mumbai, the immigration department still hasn’t decided whether or not to grant them a naturalization certificate), Pandit Ram Narain, sarangi nawaz (from Rajasthan), Maihar gharana sitar veteran Pandit Kartik Kumar (originally from Bengal), Sangeet Martand Pandit Jasraj (originally from Haryana) and many more.

And a rule has to be applied for everyone, so come on, Sonu Nigam, Kumar Sanu, Sunidhi Chauhan, Richa Sharma, K.K., Shreya Ghoshal, Ismail Darbar, Pritam, Himesh Reshammiya, Gulzar sahab, Javed Akhtar, Shankar Mahadevan and all the others. No, it doesn’t matter that you’ve given the music-loving public of this country some of their favourite songs. The point is, you’re not from Maharashtra even if you have made it your home. Get into the visa queue before you are pulled out of your homes like that unfortunate taxi driver who was pulled out of his taxi and pummelled by the new immigration officers of Maharashtra.

By the way, I have not one, but two questions for the officers. What are their views on artistes such as the legendary Lata Mangeshkar and Asha Bhonsle or, for that matter, Kishori Amonkar? Strictly speaking, they are from Goa, and that isn’t part of Maharashtra, is it? So would they too have to stand in the queue for visa applicants? Or, will they be exempted, and on what grounds? And sir, what would you like me to do? I am married to a true-blue Mumbaikar, Aneesh Pradhan, whose parents are from communities that are considered to be among the earliest inhabitants of Mumbai. Now, in most civilized countries, you are granted citizenship if you marry a citizen of a country. So, do I become a Mumbaikar by marriage, even though I am from bhaiyya-land Uttar Pradesh?

This piece was featured some time back in the Lounge section of Mint.

I dubbed a film song composed by Adnan Sami some months ago, and heard in the passing that it was for a Vikram Bhatt film called “1920″. I presumed then that I was asked to dub possibly because I had started sounding like I was from the 1920s! But then a few days ago, people started asking me about the song I had sung for Rakhi Sawant! I must confess that I had no idea the song would be turned into an item number featuring Bomb Sawant. Its ironical that I should find the following post on a blog called Life is Funny Baby!

rediff.com: Rakhi Sawant’s item bombs!
Life is Funny Baby: Item Girl Rakhi Sawant does it again

Sunday, March 23, 2008
Item Girl Rakhi Sawant does it again

They say that “A rose by any other name remains a Rose”. Likewise, Bollywood’s hot item girl: Rakhi Sawant, by any other name (Dramebaaz, Nautanki, Drama Queen etc.) remains “The Rakhi Sawant” by all means.

After having made news (and still continuing to do so) with her item number in Rakesh Roshan’s Krazzy 4, where she takes on the likes of none other than SRK and Hrithik (who also have an item number each in the film), this ‘bindaas’ girl has been roped in for yet another item number in the Vikram Bhatt’s horror flick 1920, which is being produced by Surendra Sharma of ASA Films Ltd. The film stars newcomers Rajneesh Duggal and Adah Sharma. The song is called “Bichhua” and the track has been sung by Shubha Mudgal to Adnan Sami’s music.

Speaking about the song, Rakhi thanked God (assumingly ‘Jesus’ and ‘Ganpati’) for her Krazzy 4’s song and Rakesh Roshan, that she got a chance to work in 1920. She also added that 1920 is a dark thriller with her as the only colorful thing in it.

The song’s costume designer Reza Shariffi says, “Rakhi’s look in the song is that of a typical Rajasthani, which is sensually Indianised. And that it’s for the first time that Rakhi has worn a totally traditional garment with the 1920’s feel.”

Frankly speaking, when it comes to presume the audience’s (specially the frontbenchers) reaction to ‘Bichhua’… all that we can say is that, be it ‘1920′ or 2008, one thing is for sure that “Boys will be Boys”. What you say Rakhi?

at 10:37 PM

Please be warned that the contents of this column may prove to be distasteful for persons with strong olfactory responses and delicate constitutions. Any offence or distress caused is totally unintentional because my purpose in writing this piece is solely to draw attention to at least one of the many challenges faced by exponents of Indian performing arts. Believe me, I have for long resisted the desire to share this complaint with readers but my recent experience at a concert in the art and music loving city of Kolkata now leaves me with no option but to go public.

Early in January this year, I was performing in Kolkata at a festival of classical music hosted by the West Bengal Academy of Music. Accompanied by two colleagues, I reached Ravindra Sadan, the venue for the performance and was duly greeted by helpful volunteers sporting large, colorful, cloth badges pinned on to their shirts and kurtas. We were given the news that the festival schedule for that day had started at ten in the morning and would conclude with my performance at about ten at night, thus featuring a string of performances by artistes from Bengal and other parts of the country. We were also told that an enthusiastic audience had stayed put for this music marathon of sorts through the day and the evening. So there we were, flush into the New Year, in a city that’s a music Mecca of sorts, with a committed audience waiting for us, eager to start tuning up and warming up in the green room for the performance that was to follow. But you do know the adage about good things being too good to be true, don’t you? I can assure you that all we needed to be reminded of it was one step into the green room of this large and once popular auditorium in one of the biggest and busiest cities of the country. If we hadn’t stepped back out of the room in instantaneous and collective horror and revulsion, we would only have been gagging and retching for a long time to come, assaulted as we were by the stench of what must surely be one of the world’s filthiest and never to have been cleaned urinals. Believe me, this is no exaggeration. This was the unmistakable stench of gallons of piss brewed and fermented to potent and poisonous strength in a tropical climate. I have no idea if other performers objected to being led into its dangerous and unhygienic proximity, but our protests though met with some surprise, succeeded in our being led subsequently to what was called the V.I.P room near the stage. This turned out to be a much smaller room crowded with a sofa set and coffee table that left no room for anyone to sit on the floor and tune up. But at least there was only a whiff of the pee-brew here so we decided not to protest any further. But up on stage, there it was again! My singing, the tabla, harmonium and tanpura that evening had the additional and persistent accompaniment of the fumes from the loo, through the twists and turns, ups and downs of raagdari music.

Let me just remind everyone at this point that it isn’t just Ravindra Sadan in Kolkata that subjects artistes to this lack of basic hygiene and sanitation, although I reckon it would win the Filth and Stench Awards for the year 2008 hands down. By and large most auditoriums and concert venues in the country suffer from the same malaise. They do not and will not clean their bathrooms and maintain them properly despite charging enormous amounts as rental. I am told that Ravindra Sadan is managed by the West Bengal State Government, and is one of the least expensive performing arts venues in the city, often used free of charge for events hosted by the Government of Bengal. But that still isn’t excuse enough for such criminal indifference to hygiene. As for other concert venues, they often charge exorbitant rates, are sold out for the best part of the year which would mean they are minting money. And yet, step into the loo before you step on stage for a concert, and you could have your Kanjeevaram or Banarasi sari or kurta sprayed with muck because the flush doesn’t just flush, it also sprays and works as a water-with-pee-and-other-stuff cannon. Mobile loos at open air venues too are no better. They remain art installations often without water supply, so step in at your own risk and only if you have a clothes pin to clip on to your nose, and are ready to perform a near-acrobatic mid-air crouch to save yourself, your clothes and your shoes from being soiled.

Imagine having to make music and good music in such circumstances. Tough call, eh? I write from personal first-hand experience and I’m sure other artistes too have their fair share of pre-concert green room loo-stories, but perhaps they do not wish to go public as I have done. Iron Maiden, welcome to India, but along with the gear and lights and crew, make sure you carry a loo-design expert in your entourage!

This is an unedited version of a piece I wrote for Mint. For those of you who would prefer the edited Mint version, here’s the link: http://www.livemint.com/2008/02/09001324/Before-the-show.html

You’ll never ever realize the advantages of living close to a temple if you haven’t had first-hand experience. For years, I have lived (between commuting from city to city for concerts) in a small flat close to the Jhandewalan temple in Paharganj, New Delhi. For years, therefore, I have been one of the favoured few to get the first whiff of all the latest mata ki bhainten or musical gifts to the mother/goddess. The traffic roundabout nearby is always cluttered with garish hoardings announcing forthcoming vishaal jagarans or great night-long musical extravaganzas during which devotees offer 21st century-style prayers to their beloved sheraa-wali mata (or the lion/tiger-riding Mother), complete with song, dance and entertainment.

I call them 21st century-style prayers because with each successive year, the jagaran (originally meant to be a night where devotees gathered to stay awake and chant the name of the goddess in song, prayer and thanksgiving) is fast turning into an event, often even a mega-event, with celebrity guests including politicians, criminals-turned-politicians, television and film stars and the like being brought in to attract larger crowds and bigger sponsors.

This Navaratri, the show got bigger and better than ever before. From one of the many stalls filled with all manner of religious/devotional merchandise that line the streets outside the temple, I made one of my prized Navaratri purchases-a brand new VCD titled Jhalak Dikhla Ja, Maiyaa Tu Aaja.

Replete with an auspicious number of 11 Bolly-bhakti and telly-bhakti tracks, the VCD starts with a bhaint (rhymes with ate, but with a nasal twang) set to the tune of a faultlessly copied version of Himesh Reshammiya’s Jhalak dikhla ja, jhalak dikhla ja, ek baar aaja aaja aaja aaja aaaaa jaaaa. The strident notes of the shehnai at the start of the original Reshammiya hit, the programmed groove, the “oooooh ooh ooh” that marks the start of the vocals in the original-all remain the same in this bhakti-fied version, which incidentally is not sung by Reshammiya. The Bolly-telly-bhakti twist, however, is achieved by changing the lyrics to:

“Daras dikhlaana (as opposed to Daras dikhla ja in the track listing on the back cover)Daras dikhlaana (Grant me your darshan)Main tumhein jab jab yaad karoon, Ma chali aanaa (Mother, come to me whenever I remember you)Betaa hoon main tu meri Mata (I am your son and you my Mother)Na toote kabhi Ma ye naataa… (May this bond remain ever unbroken…)”

The singers acknowledged on the cover are well-known artistes of the ilk of Udit Narayan and Anuradha Paudwal as well as some lesser known singers such as Soham, Rekha Rao, Tulsi Kumar and, heaven help me, even a Shubha with Pandit Ram Avatar Sharma. I recognize Udit Narayan’s voice on a track meant for NRI devotees of the goddess. This one says:

“Ho, main pardesi hoon, pehli baar aaya hoon (I am a foreigner on my first visit here)Darshan karne maiyaa ke darbar aaya hoon… (I have come to the mother’s darbar to catch a glimpse of her…)”

And the video accompanying the song (remember it’s a VCD with “Play Back Control (PCB) interactivity only with Video CD Version 2.0 players”) shows an aircraft touching down on the tarmac, with the pardesi guy in trousers, jacket and a Stetson of sorts, who gets into a vehicle that takes him up curving mountain roads to the shrine of the goddess. As he drives up devoutly, he sings “Main pardesi hoon…”

Not that any of this surprises me in the least. Remember, I told you I’m an old hand at getting the first peek previews of these offerings. Which is why I got to hear “Kukk kukk kukkk kukk gufaa ke andar kya hai…” years ago set to the infamous “Choli ke peechhe kya hai”!

Originally published in The Mint (LiveMint.com) on November 16, 2007. URL: Jhalak Dikhla Ja

We are in the midst of celebrating 60 years of independent India and since we always celebrate with fanfare, there have been the usual concerts, aka Azadi Express, with a turbaned actor-cum-truant-MP Govinda doing his characteristic dance moves, TV clips on almost every channel with a stylized version of the tricolour tacked on to one or the other part of the screen and, of course, cross-border debates and discussions leading nowhere, or more often than not ending in the perhaps-never-to-be-resolved issue of Kashmir. But there have been few, if any, discussions on colonial hangovers that we haven’t been able to rid ourselves of.

Take, for instance, the issue of the use of the harmonium in Hindustani classical music. The harmonium is a keyboard instrument brought to India by missionaries in the second half of the 19th century. Today, virtually every Hindustani classical vocalist specializing in khayal and thumri-dadra is accompanied by the harmonium, despite it being considered inappropriate for Indian music by many, including a certain John Foulds, who headed the Western music section of All India Radio (AIR) in the 1930s.

Foulds stated in an article that the inability of the harmonium to produce microtones or shrutis rendered it inappropriate for Indian music. His opinion led Lionel Fielden, controller of broadcasting for AIR (earlier known as the Indian Broadcasting Company), to ban the harmonium on AIR broadcasts in March 1940. This indictment by the British has continued to shadow the journey of the harmonium in India long after the nation became independent. If this isn’t a classic case of a colonial hangover, what is?

The British declared that the harmonium is unsuitable for Indian music without bothering to consult an expert in Hindustani music. We, like humble and obedient servants of Her Majesty, accepted the ban and continued to declare it unsuitable long after it became a part of mainstream concert performances and music-making.

While the ban on the harmonium was lifted and most broadcasts on AIR feature harmonium accompaniment, harmonium players could never enjoy the same status as other musicians. Till recently, AIR followed an audition system whereby every musician had to submit a recording to an audition committee, which then selected candidates after considering their broadcast worthiness and also assigned a grade to each selected candidate.

Grades ranged in ascending order from B, B High, A, to Top Grade, assigned only to the most exceptional musicians. But when it came to harmonium players, they remained in a special category called “ungraded” and even the most proficient and experienced weren’t assigned even a B grade, which was normally reserved for novices. It is only in the last few years that harmonium players have been auditioned and graded like other musicians. But, even now, broadcasts of harmonium solos remain unheard of.

For decades now, harmonium players have worked tirelessly on both the instrument and playing techniques. As a result, they have been able to overcome many of the problems that were the cause of the harmonium being considered unfit for Hindustani music. While two senior harmonium players, namely Appa Jalgaonkar and Tulsidas Borkar have received the Sangeet Natak Akademi awards in recent years, it was disappointing to note that the harmonium has still not been given its due respect.

In the concerts that followed the presentation of the Akademi awards, Borkar featured only as an accompanist to vocal music and was not invited to present a harmonium solo despite the fact that his gharana is known to have developed and enriched harmonium technique and repertoire immensely.

On the other hand, the electronic keyboard and synthesizer has faced no opposition whatsoever and gained widespread acceptance in Indian music. No one ever questions the use of an electronic keyboard in bhajan performances, garba, or other forms of folk music, ghazal, geet, qawwali or any traditional Indian music.

The electronic keyboard, I guess, was never banned as it came to India after the British had left. And, perhaps, that is why we made an independent choice to accept it so freely as opposed to the harmonium, banned by the British and, therefore, stigmatized even today, long after we are said to have become independent.

Originally published in The Mint (livemint.com) on Sept 1, 2007. URL: Harmonium

Published earlier in my fortnightly column for Mint.

Jahaji Music