The Saturday night, 6th October 2013, in Delhi throbbed with the voice and musical wave of the legendary Pakistan based singer, Ghulam Ali, deftly described by the compere of the night as one “who actually can find his residence in the hearts of many Indians” at Sri Fort Auditorium.
I saw the man in person for the first time. The 72 year old still radiates the charisma of his yester-years and enchants the crowd with the spell casted by his rapturous voice. The long queue to the entrance was reminiscent of the pre-digitalization days. Anyone would take half an hour to seer through the queue to find the ticket counter where instead of Indian currency, the exchange of show ticket happens through an ‘sms’ or e-mail/ printout of a digital ticket!
Enter the auditorium and dazzled you are with a packed auditorium waiting for the legendary artist. The faith in unadulterated classical music and rendition of Urdu poetry seems ever alive in the city.
Enter Ghulam Ali and the ease with which the verses of Ghalib and others are sung reflects how poetry can be immortalized by the sound of music. Musical rendition of Urdu poetry is the seduction for the listener to transport poetry from the world of text to the world of memory. One yearns for remembrance of verses as if it will quench the long repressed thirst in the psyche. This memorialization of verse finds its peak expression in a musical rendition. The thirst to memorize verses uttered from the depth of once soul has deeper cultural roots in South Asian air and ethos.
The audience got their 'istakbaal' (warm-welcome) by the compere of the show - Minakshi - who was undoubtedly comparable in her rendition of Urdu verses to the legendary Ghulam Ali. The man seems to be having a temper as he avoids categorically not just whistles but even camera snapshots as well as recording by camera. Some may regard him modest for his confessed ignorance of many ragas and even meanings of the verses he sings. Others may find bits of an egotist in his temper and other comments during 'guftagu' (conversations) which took place along with the show. Others would say that finding faults is a futile exercise in an evening of bonhomie with the great voice of the greatest artist. Needless to mention, Ghulam Ali deserves appreciation for being one of the rare gems of classical music to keep him away from the ever increasing erotics of the culture of consumerism and commercialization.
What remains in absentia or hidden somewhere is the soul of such miraculous performances. The soul lies in the depth of hearts of the writers of the verses sung on stage. They are the real legends present in their absence through their verses.
However, their names are dropped from the hat almost in small fonts and may be as an uncalled for detail worthy only of forgetting. One instance is when the compere indulged in guftagu about the immortal song “Chupke chupke raat din” with Ghulam Ali.
The conversation talked about the name of the radio station where it was first sung in Pakistan, about the director B.R. Chopra and how he successfully recorded through HMV, the recording of this song for his Bollywood blockbuster film. The ‘real’ missing in the ‘symbolic’ conversation was Maulana Hazrat Mohani, the man who composed the verses. He was a Romantic Poet of Urdu language. He was equally involved with the politics of late 19th century and was also a journalist and parliamentarian of British India. Most importantly he actively participated in the Struggle for Independence. The legendary man only finds a mention as a name to be forgotten, the earlier the better, for enjoyment of the ghazal written by him!
Similarly, as the audience remarked that they will not leave the auditorium without hearing the famous song ‘Hungama’, Ghulam Ali responded back from stage that he will himself not leave the stage without singing the song. The verse, arguing that drinking alcohol is not criminal, was written by Akbar Allahbadi in response to the accusation made against him, by some members of Muslim League, of being bribed with alcohol by the Hindus when he was attempting for Hindu-Muslim unity during freedom struggle.
Here as well, a fuller appreciation of this song needs some context of Indian National Movement and of the song and its author. But not even the name of the composer was mentioned before or after the song relished by everyone. One wonders how to begin to understand the great singers who sing the verses least bothered about the variegated contexts in which these texts operate.
Viewed in this context, the confession of innocence to the meaning of songs by the great artist becomes much worse than merely ‘modest’. Here lies the nub of the contemporary culture. The contemporary generation lacks the memory of its history and thrives on its forgetfulness. The music which keeps alive the immortality of the verse at the same time sinfully neglects and painfully avoids the contextual meanings of the texts.
The necessity of revival of Urdu poetry is a necessity for the hyper-globalizing South Asia. But the manner in which we do it or enjoy it raises some serious concerns. Music is the soul of art and is necessary for evocation of any cultural memory but the question remains that what is to be done to make the 'necessary' as 'sufficient'.
I saw the man in person for the first time. The 72 year old still radiates the charisma of his yester-years and enchants the crowd with the spell casted by his rapturous voice. The long queue to the entrance was reminiscent of the pre-digitalization days. Anyone would take half an hour to seer through the queue to find the ticket counter where instead of Indian currency, the exchange of show ticket happens through an ‘sms’ or e-mail/ printout of a digital ticket!
Enter the auditorium and dazzled you are with a packed auditorium waiting for the legendary artist. The faith in unadulterated classical music and rendition of Urdu poetry seems ever alive in the city.
Enter Ghulam Ali and the ease with which the verses of Ghalib and others are sung reflects how poetry can be immortalized by the sound of music. Musical rendition of Urdu poetry is the seduction for the listener to transport poetry from the world of text to the world of memory. One yearns for remembrance of verses as if it will quench the long repressed thirst in the psyche. This memorialization of verse finds its peak expression in a musical rendition. The thirst to memorize verses uttered from the depth of once soul has deeper cultural roots in South Asian air and ethos.
The audience got their 'istakbaal' (warm-welcome) by the compere of the show - Minakshi - who was undoubtedly comparable in her rendition of Urdu verses to the legendary Ghulam Ali. The man seems to be having a temper as he avoids categorically not just whistles but even camera snapshots as well as recording by camera. Some may regard him modest for his confessed ignorance of many ragas and even meanings of the verses he sings. Others may find bits of an egotist in his temper and other comments during 'guftagu' (conversations) which took place along with the show. Others would say that finding faults is a futile exercise in an evening of bonhomie with the great voice of the greatest artist. Needless to mention, Ghulam Ali deserves appreciation for being one of the rare gems of classical music to keep him away from the ever increasing erotics of the culture of consumerism and commercialization.
What remains in absentia or hidden somewhere is the soul of such miraculous performances. The soul lies in the depth of hearts of the writers of the verses sung on stage. They are the real legends present in their absence through their verses.
However, their names are dropped from the hat almost in small fonts and may be as an uncalled for detail worthy only of forgetting. One instance is when the compere indulged in guftagu about the immortal song “Chupke chupke raat din” with Ghulam Ali.
The conversation talked about the name of the radio station where it was first sung in Pakistan, about the director B.R. Chopra and how he successfully recorded through HMV, the recording of this song for his Bollywood blockbuster film. The ‘real’ missing in the ‘symbolic’ conversation was Maulana Hazrat Mohani, the man who composed the verses. He was a Romantic Poet of Urdu language. He was equally involved with the politics of late 19th century and was also a journalist and parliamentarian of British India. Most importantly he actively participated in the Struggle for Independence. The legendary man only finds a mention as a name to be forgotten, the earlier the better, for enjoyment of the ghazal written by him!
Similarly, as the audience remarked that they will not leave the auditorium without hearing the famous song ‘Hungama’, Ghulam Ali responded back from stage that he will himself not leave the stage without singing the song. The verse, arguing that drinking alcohol is not criminal, was written by Akbar Allahbadi in response to the accusation made against him, by some members of Muslim League, of being bribed with alcohol by the Hindus when he was attempting for Hindu-Muslim unity during freedom struggle.
Here as well, a fuller appreciation of this song needs some context of Indian National Movement and of the song and its author. But not even the name of the composer was mentioned before or after the song relished by everyone. One wonders how to begin to understand the great singers who sing the verses least bothered about the variegated contexts in which these texts operate.
Viewed in this context, the confession of innocence to the meaning of songs by the great artist becomes much worse than merely ‘modest’. Here lies the nub of the contemporary culture. The contemporary generation lacks the memory of its history and thrives on its forgetfulness. The music which keeps alive the immortality of the verse at the same time sinfully neglects and painfully avoids the contextual meanings of the texts.
The necessity of revival of Urdu poetry is a necessity for the hyper-globalizing South Asia. But the manner in which we do it or enjoy it raises some serious concerns. Music is the soul of art and is necessary for evocation of any cultural memory but the question remains that what is to be done to make the 'necessary' as 'sufficient'.
