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Ustad Bismillah Khan departed from this world on the 21st
of August 2006 at the age of 90. He was the foremost exponent of
Shahnai. The Shahnai (also written Shehnai) is compared to an oboe and
its name comes from two Persian words, one is shah which means
king, the other is nai meaning flute. This wind instrument has
up to nine holes on its staff. The last two holes are used for tuning
and can be left open or closed with wax.
Once was a night about twenty five years ago; a night that I would
never forget. It all happened on the sacred river Ganges where
hundreds of small boats were surrounding a bigger one decorated with
garlands of flowers and oil lamps. From that big boat music was
flowing which was spreading large and wide up to the sky. I was new in
Kashi, the “City of Light”, and I knew close to nothing about Indian
classical music at that time but I was overwhelmed and deeply touched
by the pure and mighty sound I was listening to, so much so that years
after, the memory of it still resounds strongly in my heart. I did not
know the Râga which was being played and in fact I cannot remember the
melody, but what remains in me until now are the impressions and the
messages I could perceive and receive through this divine music. This
music was like a pure clear sound which was light at the same time and
it was filling up the night and the space. Yes, it is the light of
pure sound in the space that first come to my mind, like plenitude in
the vacuity. And the message carried through the music was love.
Indeed, it was Ustad Bismillah Khan who was playing, filling all the
listeners with grace.
Living in Varanasi or Benaras (the modern names for Kashi), I have
been blessed to be able to listen to this great Ustad in his own city
a few times afterwards and each time it was the same magic. Since
then, for me the sound of Shahnai is linked to the vastness on the
Ganges and even when I attended a concert in an inner hall or in some
other town, the music Ustad Bismillah Khan was playing on his Shahnai
was always bringing me back to the sacred river.
Though he was born in Dumraon, a small princely state in the Shahabad
district of Bihar, Ustadji cherished the holy city of Benaras so much
that he declined the offer made by America to build a replica of
Varanasi in the states so that he could live there permanently. To
this offer Ustadji replied that no one could bring his dear Gangaji (Ganga
is the name for the Ganges and ji is a particle adding respect and
affection at the same time) to America. He also preferred the city on
the Ganges to the Indian metropolis where he could have had more
facilities perhaps.
It was spring time, exactly on the 21st of march1916 in the
morning; the birds were beginning to sing at the break of day when
Mitthan felt the first pains of labour. Her husband Paigambar Baksh
agreed with his own father Rasool Baksh Khan not to go to the temple
to play the Shahnai as they were doing every morning at dawn to greet
the day and open the prayers with their music.
Thus, a second boy was born to Mitthan and Paigambar and they called
him Qamaruddin to match the sound of their first son’s name,
Shamsuddin. The grand father seeing the baby boy exclaimed ‘Bismillah’,
by the grace of Allah, and that is the name which remained attached to
Qamaruddin and under which he was going to be known throughout the
world.
At the age of six, Qamaruddin was taken by her mother to her own
brother, Ali Baksh Khan who was living in Benaras. Ali Baksh was a
renowned Shahnai player and the young boy was spellbound when he was
listening to his uncle practising in the Balaji Temple close by the
Ganges, in the early hours of the day. His Mamu (maternal uncle) was
impressed by the young boy who would sit quietly listening for hours
forgetting about eating and games.
One day the boy dared ask his Mamu why he always practised at the
temple and not at home, and the answer was that one day he would
himself understand why. Shortly after Bismillah asked his uncle when
he could begin to play, the answer from his Mamu was “right now.”
From then onward his training began under the guidance of Ali Baksh
Khan who thus became Bismillah’s guru. The boy would start his
practice with only half an hour a day, but after some years it
increased up to six hours every morning and one day, playing in the
Balaji temple he had a spiritual vision that he had had better not
revealed to his guru who scolded him for doing so. All his life he
kept a great liking for solitude and always preferred to be in the
sole company of his music, undisturbed on his way to reaching Allah or
God. One would even speak of him as an ascetic. Later on Bismillah
also learnt from Ahmed Hussain Khan from Lucknow and also from a
famous harmonium player from Gwalior, Laxmanprasadji.
After some years of doing his riyaaz (practice) with his Mamu, the
young student was granted some holidays at his parents’ place in
Dumraon. He was keen on showing his progress to his family, but to his
dismay his grand father scolded him and taking the Shahnai from the
boy he began blowing in the instrument creating a sound so powerful
and so intense that the child was dumfounded. From this he understood
that he had to take care of his health in order to harmonize and
deepen his breath which would allow him such a great sound. He began
changing his diet and taking physical exercises and soon he surprised
his guru by his new strength. His music evolved and became a blending
of the melodious and sweet musical intricacies learnt from his guru
with the voluminous and mighty sound of his grand father.
From that moment in his life Bismillah knew the necessity of
discipline, a discipline which he carried on through his long life,
never allowing himself to drink alcohol and to get lost into sensual
pleasures as he knew it would destroy his music. The only exception
which he enjoyed till the end of his life was of smoking Wills
cigarettes, a brand he found in India only. Another quality he had
shown from his early childhood was perseverance and dedication without
which even the greatest talent would not be able to unfold itself.
At that time one would not learn music in a school where one attends
classes at a given time according to a routine; one would learn
according to the “guru-shisya-parampara”, the guru-disciple-tradition,
which implies surrender to one’s guru, devotion to him, to the music
and to God, as well as the alienation of the ego. Even today, this
deep relation between the guru and his disciple is the only way to
really imbibe the intricacies and the beauty of the classical Indian
music.
I never met Ustadji’s personally, but just by listening to the
tunefulness, to the purity of his music I could guess much about him.
Indeed, such music could come only from a heart fully opened by
detachment, by humility, by supreme love. When I read about Ustad and
his life, I was not surprised to learn that he was not just a devout
Moslem, doing his namaaz (prayers) five times a day, but he was really
a sufi and a free thinker who was playing in Hindu temples for
Saraswati, the goddess of music, and who dared break the haraam
(taboo) of Islam which says that no music should ever be played.
So did Khan Saheb (as he was also called) play through the lanes of
Benaras on the eighth day of the Muharram, a Moslem festival. For
Bismillah, as it is also true for most of the great music masters of
India, music is a prayer, is a way to unite with God, and his Shahnai
was his Coran. As the famous dancer and singer Rita Ganguly wrote:
“Only when one walks the path of the religion of music, one become
able to know that Allah and Brahman are one.”
His modesty was shown in the way he dressed himself, wearing
Shalwar-Kameez of Khadi cotton for everyday life, of silk for some
special events. His house was modestly furnished, with no superfluous
luxury and he dwelled all his life in the house of his Mamu in the old
city and never was attracted by having a beautiful bungalow in Delhi
or Mumbai. He never owned a car and he liked to take a cycle rikshaw
to go through the city of Benaras.
The money he earned was in a great part spent to keep the hundred
people of his family household healthy and happy. He was saying that
life’s success is in Iman, righteousness, and he never took side lanes
or low lanes. When we hear about the words he spoke on special
occasions like after a concert or by receiving an award, we realize
what a sense of humour he had, what an honesty and sincerity too.
Saheb Khan was the first Indian musician to perform at the Lincoln
Centre in New York City; the audience was so overwhelmed and moved by
his excellent rendering of the Râga that he had to take seven curtain
calls. The audience begged him to say a few words which he found quite
strange as he had already said everything he wanted to say through his
music. Finally he accepted to speak so that hey would let him go and
have the cup of tea he was longing for. He told them simply in his own
language: “I beg your pardon, let me go now. I would like to have a
cup of tea now.” Then with his eyes smiling he added: “In our country,
there is a saying that a wise man talks very little. So please do not
ask me to speak if you have not missed the wisdom of my music.”
Clapping and laughter rose from the entire audience. Even after
becoming world famous, he would remain very simple with other
musicians and they shared a mutual respect for each other. Though he
travelled through the whole world he was always afraid of flying and
would remember the first time he did have to fly to play at the
Edinburgh Festival as well as at the Commonwealth Arts Festival in
1965. He first requested the organisers to let him begin his journey
months ahead so that he could go there by train!
Ustad Bismillah Khan was not just a great and marvellous Shahnai
player who had found his inspiration in various music styles like in
the classical Khayal, in Thumri and in Ghazal, but his contribution to
the Shahnai is that he could promote it to a concert instrument
enjoying its full right in the Indian classical music. Before Khan
Saheb, the Shahnai had no pedigree in the hierarchy of Indian
classical instruments and it was played mainly at weddings, in
processions or to inaugurate a ceremony, but Ustadji could honour it
and enrich it introducing the entire realm of classical music in it.
He could bring the intricate tunes without loosing the rustic quality
of this instrument.
Furthermore he taught close members of his family as well as a few
worthy disciples, the first and most devoted one having been Jagdish
Prasad Kamar whose daughter Bageshwari also learnt to play Shahnai
from Ustadji.
Bageshwari is the only woman playing Shahnai; the fact that she had
been taught by Khan Saheb shows the broadmindedness of the latter who
liked to say that there is no reason why a woman should not play as
long as she is dedicated to her music and does her riyaaz regularly.
Apart from giving concerts extensively in the whole world, Khan Saheb
also composed film music or even played the Shahnai in a few films
which became great successes; to be mentioned first are the films
directed by the two Bhatt brothers, Vijay and Shankar: “Vaiju Bawra”
about the life of a famous almost legendary classical singer of
ancient time, and “Gunj Uthi Shehnai” with Lata Mangeshkar. No need to
give a list of all his many recordings as they would be easy to find
in any music shop all over the world.
Saheb Khan always remained simple though had been on the front in many
great occasions like when he played for the day of the independence of
India on the 15th of August 1947. He was the first free
Indian to greet the new nation with his glorious music. Just before
Pandit J. Nehru would deliver his speech to the people, Bismillahji
greeted the audience with his divine and magical tunes. Among the
audience he could recognize Mahatma Gandhi, Rafi Ahmad Kidwai, Sardar
B. Patel and other heroes of the struggle for independence.
The whole nation knew to show her gratitude to this master, sage and
yogi musician in rewarding him with all the highest possible awards
one could receive in India. He got a first gold medal at the age of
fourteen at a music festival in Allahabad where he had been
accompanying his guru Ustad Ali Baksh; three more gold medals followed
a few years later. Then to mention only a few of those many awards,
there has been the Sangeet Natak Academy Award in 1936, the Padmashri
in 1961, the Padmabushan in 1968, the Padma Vibushan, the Deshikottam,
the Tansen Puraskar and honorary doctorates from Shantiniketan and
Benaras Hindu University between 1978 and 1980, in 1990 the Ustad
Hafiz Ali Khan Puraskar and the Bharat Ratna in 2001 at the age of 85.
During the rainy season of 2006, a great master and a great soul has
passed away, but as my own master the late Ustad Zia Mohiuddin Dagar
once told me: the guru never dies. Indeed Ustad Bismillah Khan will
always live, through and in his music, in the hearts of his disciples
and in the hearts of all the very many people throughout the world,
who will listen again and again to his divine music. Kabir a great
mystic and poet who lived in Kashi during the 15th century
sang: “The flute of the infinite is played endlessly and its sound is
love……..the form of this melody is shining like millions of suns……”
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