A rendez-vous with Asha Bhosle and Ustaad Shujaat Khan by the Thames

We all have those "once-in-a-lifetime" moments, moments we know that are unlikely to come knocking at our doorsteps again.  So when I caught word in January 2011 of Asha Bhosle's March 2011 UK tour, I instantly procured my tickets for her London concert at the Royal Festival Hall on the Thames' south bank.  

Ever since then, my excitement grew as the concert drew closer with each passing day.  Indeed, the evening of Wednesday 16 March 2011 was truly magical.  As I sat in my front row seat, I waited with abated breath.  I leafed through the glossy programme, not really troubling myself to read the backgrounds of either Bhosle or Khan.  After all, I knew all there was to know about these two legends -  I just wanted the magic to begin!

And as the lights dimmed, I knew that this was it - my "once-in-a-lifetime" moment.  Sonia Deol and Sanjay Sharma (both exemplary radio presenters at the BBC Asian Network) kicked off the evening with an introduction (in English by Sonia and in Urdu by Sanjay) to the evening that only furthered my appetite. 

As Sonia and Sanjay concluded their introduction, Ustaad Shujaat Khan, along with his ensemble of musicians, graced the stage.  I could not believe that I was sat but a few metres away from my favourite sitarist!  Khan opened the concert with an introduction to the album "Naina Lagai Ke" which he and Asha were promoting in the UK, an album of ghazals with a semi-classical basis.  Immediately, I knew that this was going to be an evening sans commercial Bollywood. 

As I waited for Khan to pick up his sitar, I sat there hoping secretly that he would open with my favourite Sufiana piece of the Hazrat Amir Khusrao kalaam.  And lo and behold, as though he had read my mind through some mystic form of telepathy, he started his first alaap which immediately told me that my prayers had been answered.  I could feel the energy transcending across my veins as Khan rendered most immaculately "Chaap Tilak Sab Cheen Li".   Here is a video of Khan performing the same piece at a concert in 2008:

After this scintillating performance, Khan proclaimed "It's time to get Ashaji out".  Amidst a furore of excitement, Ashaji graced the stage with her hands joined in the namaste position.  Clad in a sea-blue saree, Ashaji looked ethereal!  This 77 year old legend adorned a white flower in her hair, adhering to the idiosyncratic style she established years ago.  She was welcomed on stage with a standing ovation from the audience amidst an already electrified atmosphere.  The crowd grew even more excited when she opened with the first alaap of "In Aankhon Ki Masti".  What a treat to hear and see the song sung by the very legend herself!

Ashaji with Ustaad Khan, performing In Aankhon Ki Masti

Soon after "In Aankhon Ki Masti", she went on to sing "Dil Cheez Kya Hai".  As the evening progressed,  Ashaji and Ustaad Khan performed their semi-classical ghazals from their new album Naina Lagai Ke, one of which, as presented in the video below, I endeared to the most:

It was an evening of authentic melody and that, in my opinion, was real music:  two artists coming together to do what they do best without rehearsals or a pre-fixed songlist.  They performed whatever their hearts directed them to perform.  Both Ashaji and Ustaad Khan admitted to have not rehearsed for the show, because the concept was designed to be a jugalbandhi between the two, whereby each would go with the flow.  This only added to the evening's authenticity, charm and appeal.

After the interval, Ashaji graced the stage in a yellow, sparkling saree.  Upon the insistence of Ustaad Khan, Ashaji indulged the audience with "Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo" and "Naam Gum Jaayega", before moving on to give the crowd a treat of her well-known mimicry talents.  She chose to sing her own song "Tora Mann Darpan Kehlaaye" in the voices and styles of Malika-E-Taranum Noor Jehan, Lata Mangeshkar, Ghulam Ali and Helen.  A true entertainer, Ashaji held the crowd in her hands with her down-to-earth, no-frills approach.  For instance, as she walked on stage after the interval, she came round to the audience in the front and asked if her saree was suited to the occasion!  There were several times in her renditions when she chose to introduce a new stylistic approach to established songs, and each time she did so she chose to check with her audience to see if they approved.   

Asha "tai" treating us with Aaj Jaane Ki Zid Na Karo

Checking the suitability of her saree with her audience

The magic ended with a special request made by almost everyone in the concert: Chura Liya Hai Tumne Jo Dil Ko.  And on this high-note, my "once-in-a-lifetime" evening came to a gracious end. 

A youthful evening of promise

Last Sunday (6 March 2011) I attended a concert organised by Milapfest at London's Southbank Centre. It was a groundbreaking event in South Asian Classical music with the presentation of the first ever National South Asian Music Orchestra. The event, aptly titled ‘Confluence’ marked the coming together of two existing South Asian music orchestras, Samyo and Tarang, playing a new genre of Indian music which was at once modern, traditional, contemporary and classical. 

Led by Samyo & Tarang conductors Gaurav Mazumdar and Manorama Prasad, the orchestra performed a repertoire of specially composed music which was entertaining and inspiring. The list of composers represented some of India’s best musicians, including Carnatic superstar Bombay Jayashri. The evening ended on a high with a trip down memory lane, showcasing much-loved Bollywood songs from the 1960’s to present day, instantly connecting all generations present.

Confluence performed to a packed house, filled with music enthusiasts and many notable dignitaries including the High Commissioner of India, H.E Mr. Nalin Surie and Director of Nehru Centre, Monika Mohta.

The show also included the launch of Samyo’s first CD, Tributes, presented on stage by Samyo and Tarang patrons, Mr. Mukund Jobanputra and Mrs. Urmila Jobanputra

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Given the Jobanputras' backing, it was not surprising to see a large Gujarati audience at the event, and I felt proud of the support that the Gujarati community in London afforded to such a great event. 

Particularly striking, in respect of Samyo, was the sheer youth of the orchestra. Samyo is a young orchestra, membership of which is availed to under 18's only. In the video above you can see that some of the members are very young - my guess is that the young boys playing the violins are perhaps just over 8 years old! 

The South Asian youth in Britain desperately needs more outlets such as these. This is a great way to expose the South Asian youth in Britain to the enriching effects of South Asian classical music. When you create constructive channels of energy for youth, you secure the development of a pluralist, passionate and promising generation that is safeguarded against the rapidly growing tentacles of extremism and seclusion.

An intoxicating affair with Mirza Ghalib (1797 - 1869)

Almost a month ago I discovered a beautiful "Qawwali" whilst aimlessly browsing Youtube.  "Koi Umeed Bar Nahin Aati" performed by Rahat Fateh Ali Khan instantly seized the core of my very being.  Ever since, I have been listening to it every morning on the Tube to work.  It was the fact that I had not listened to a Qawwali for a considerable length of time that drew me to this electrifying song.  You see, I grew up in an intensely musical home, my parents being avid fans of possibly all genres of North Indian music (ranging from Retro Bollywood and Hindustani Classical to Ghazals and Qawwalis).  It therefore comes as no surprise that I had the good fortune of growing up in an enchanting atmosphere that had infused into it the voices of Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhosle, Rafi, Jagjit and Chitra Singh.  Consequentially, these voices played in my sub-conscious throughout my childhood.

So when I first encountered "Koi Umeed Bar Nahin Aati" on You Tube last month (in two parts as embedded below), I felt a profound sensation of satisfaction - the sort of satisfaction that is akin to the satiation that spreads across your nerves when you take the first sip of your ice-cool drink on a scorching day.  My sub-conscious yearning for a soulful Qawwali was now appeased.

The beauty of "Koi Umeed Bar Nahin Aati" rests in Rahat's impeccable rendition and his alluring voice - true.  But upon careful introspection I cannot resist concluding that it is the kalaam (the writing penned, or verses created, by an author or a poet) of this piece that perfects it and enhances its charisma to intoxicating heights. This rendition by Rahat is unique in that its fabric is carefully and intricately threaded together using a number of Ghazals (conversations with one's lover, often understood to be God) all penned by Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib (1797 - 1869), a genius of Persian and Urdu poetry in the era of British India.

The only surviving photograph of Mirza Ghalib (1797 - 1869)

In the first video above, Rahat opens the Qawwali's rendition poignantly with the two verses from one of Ghalib's most popular Ghazals.  The first verse reads:

"Yeh nah thii hamaarii qismat, ke visaal-e yaar hotaa,

agar aur jiite rahte yihii intezaar hotaa."

"This was not our destiny/fate, that union with the Beloved would take place,

if we had kept on living longer, there would have been this very same waiting."

My take on this verse is that it neatly encapsulates one's longing to be united with God, one's Beloved in this verse. There comes a time in everyone's life when the long wait to be reunited with God can no longer be endured, the apparently eternal orphancy becomes unbearable.  Since waiting is more painful than death,death is preferable, this saving oneself from the pain of waiting for union with the Beloved. This is pure devotion!

"Yeh masaal-e tasawuf! Yeh tera bayaan; Ghalib,
tujhe ham vali samajhte jo nah baadakhaar hotaa."

"These problems of mysticism! This discourse/exposition of yours, Ghalib,

we would consider you a saint-- if you weren't a wine-drinker."

What a beautiful verse! Here Ghalib reminds us, with unmitigated elegance, of human imperfection.  We all have role models, people we aspire to emulate, individuals upon whom we confer the highest order of reverence and admiration.  All too often, we make the mistake of viewing these role models as perfect souls.  Indeed, Ghalib's poetry invokes in the reader such intensity and intoxication that it is all too easy (and convenient!) to view him to be a personification of perfection.  Yet here he shatters all ego and all arrogance by reminding the reader of his weakness - wine.  Complimenting Ghalib on either his mystical tendencies, or his mystical tendencies and his poetic abilities both, we find his work almost enough to make him plausible as a saint.  But of course, as the verse remarks in a candid and superior tone, Ghalib's attachment to wine prevents any such illusion from developing.  The use of the downward "tu" for 'you' increases the effect of condescension and derogation.

"Koi Umeed Bar Nahin Aati" offers us a plethora of Ghalib's sparkling works.  My journey of Ghalib's works has only just begun - and I am already intoxicated by his devotion, wit and splendour!  As I attempt to better understand Ghalib, this spiritual intoxication gets ever more enjoyable!