RMIM Archive Article "65".
From the RMIM Article Archive maintained by Satish Subramanian
#
# RMIM/C Archives..
# Subject: Great Master's series
# Great Masters #5: Mallika-e-Ghazal Begum Akhtar!
#
# Posted by: Rajan Parrikar (parrikar@colorado.edu)
# Sources: "Down Melody Lane" (1984) by G.N. Joshi
#
#
Yo Music Lovers: Here I come once again with yetannudder instal-
ment of Great Masters (the optical scanner makes life easier). To
those fortunate few whom Begum Akhtar's music translates to in-
stant orgasm, the following article should prove interesting. To
others, who have no such luck - take it easy!:-)
Rajan
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Begum Akhtar
by
G.N. Joshi
From: G.N. Joshi's "Down Melody Lane" (1984),
pp 67-74.
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About 25 years ago I had arranged a mehfil of Pandit Bhimsen
Joshi at my residence. A few select friends were invited,
amongst whom was the late Ramubhaya Date of Indore. The mehfil
was fixed for 4.30 in the afternoon but Ramubhaya arrived a lit-
tle before the lunch hour. There was nothing unusual in this.
Ramubhaya had often arrived thus and joined us at the table. I
always appreciate such a simple and informal attitude, and so I
heartily welcomed Ramubhaya to lunch with us. We did full justice
to the food. After lunch Ramubhaya helped himself to paan. Nor-
mally I do not eat paan or supari but on that day, after the ex-
cellent lunch, I accepted the patti prepared by him. He also gave
one each to my wife and daughter and said, 'Look, an excellent
meal like this must be followed by paan, and along with it you
must try this "Akhtari". Phir maja dekho!'
He produced from a small bottle a number of pills covered with
silver leaf and gave one to each of us. The pills, chewed with
the paan, were wonderful in flavour and taste. I said. 'Ramu-
bhaya, this little Akhtari of yours and our Faizabadi Akhtari
seem to be equally delicious in sweetness and fragrance.'
have named these pills. I have listened to Begum Akhtar's sing-
ing countless times, and each time she so hypnotizes me that I
take this pill with paan every ten or fifteen minutes just to
keep the memory and aroma of her singing fresh in my mind.'
kalejava katar', that 'katar' has gone so deep that I will al-
ways remember her,' I said reminiscently.
Only those who were fortunate enough to see and hear Begum Akhtar
in person would understand the full meaning of these words.
In 1914 at Faizabad, a village in U.P., a teenaged girl made her
debut as a singer and took listeners by storm. Those who heard
her acknowledged her to be a singer of great promise. And from
that day on she came to be known as Akhtari Faizabadi.
In due course, age brought about changes in her voice and style.
Maturity and experience lend grace to an artist's presentation
and make it blossom forth in its full beauty. Begum Akhtar, no
wonder, very soon reached the heights of fame and popularity.
The one-time Akhtari Faizabadi now came to be known as Begum
Akhtar. 'Real beauty can weather any storm', turned out to be
very true in her case. During recitals whenever she reached a
high note her voice would crack, but strangely enough this was
considered by connoisseurs as the highlight of her recital. The
audience would wait eagerly for that delicious crack in her
voice.
There is virtually no difference between English lyrics, Marathi
bhavgeets and Urdu ghazals. Eminent Urdu poets of yesteryear
such as Mirza Ghalib, Daag, Jigar Muradabadi, Phani, Behejad
Lucknowi Jaukh, Shakil Badayuni and Sahir Ludhianvi, and contem-
porary living poets like Majrooh Sultanpuri, Faiz Ahmed Faiz, or
Josh Malihabadi have written ghazals which are the hot favour-
ites of discerning readers of Urdu poetry and knowledgeable
listeners of ghazal singing.
In order to become a successful bhavgeet or ghazal singer it is
very necessary to select a lyric which is easy to understand,
and has meaningful verses, with flashes of playful poetic imagi-
nation. Having come across such a piece of poetry the singer has
to put it across musically in a suitable tune with a complete
understanding of the poetry, in perfect diction and in an ex-
pressively emotional style. Begum Akhtar possessed all the qual-
ities that are so vital for a good ghazal singer. The notes
which she produced were so limpid, so hauntingly sweet, that the
audience was immediately captivated. She had the uncanny knack
of choosing the right kind of ghazal and adorning it in a befit-
ting tune; she would render it so endearingly that her every
note would grip the hearts of the audience.
At 15, she cut her first disc for the Megaphone Record Company -
again one of the sister concerns of H.M.V. I did not have the
good fortune to hear her when she was in her heyday. I first saw
and met her in the year 1952. My friend Nawab Zahir Yar Jung of
Hyderabad (a close relation of the late Nizam) was on a visit to
Bombay and he was staying in Krishna Nivas on Marine Drive. The
wealthy are famous for their vices or fads, but this artisto-
cratic friend of mine had only one 'vice', and that was his pas-
sion for good music. Nawab Saheb was also exceptionally gen-
erous. He bestowed his wealth liberally on singers and musi-
cians. During his two month stay jn Bombay it was my pleasant
job to take a new outstanding talented artist to Nawab Saheb's
residence every evening. It was part of his daily routine to en-
joy the music of a newcomer for an hour or two, after which Be-
gum Akhtar would invariably wind up the music session with a
thumri, dadra or lilting ghazal. Nawab Saheb would then present
each artist with Bidagi in the form of gold mohurs. Intoxicated
by the sweet music the Nawab and I would then have a sumptuous
Hyderabadi Nawabi style dinner at which Begum Akhtar would also
join us.
The late Rai Bahadur Chunilal, one of the directors of Bombay
Talkies, had a son who was passionately fond of music. One day
our manager, Mr. H. C. Lal, came to me with the boy and told me
to give him all possible musical guidance. I gave him a tanpura
and told him to sing. He sang a ghazal and a thumri which had
been broadcast by Begum Akhtar on the radio. These gave me ample
indication of his musical talent. After that, for a few months,
whenever we had the studio free he would come and would do his
riyaz on the tanpura. Later the young boy enlisted in the army,
but the rigours and discipline of military life clashed with his
artistic nature, therefore he got out of the forces and accepted
a job in All India Radio. While in Lucknow and Delhi he had op-
portunities to listen to various illustrious singers. It was in
Lucknow that he met Begum Akhtar in person and developed a last-
ing friendship with her.
Whenever Begum Akhtar came to Bombay for programmes. she stayed
at the Sea Green South Hotel on Marine Drive. It was my
privilege and practice to be with her every evening during her
stay. The music-mad son of Rai Bahadur Chunilal had by now
turned his attention to films and had become a music director.
During Begum Akhtar's stay in Bombay he also would come to the
hotel to meet her.
He chose many beautiful compositions sung by Begum Akhtar and
gave them his own tunes in order to incorporate them in films.
His artistic creativity found a new outlet in Begum Akhtar's
ghazals and very soon he became a famous and popular music
director. Dastan, Hakikat, Bahana, Mera Saya, Suhagan, Wo Kaun
Thi, Bhai Bhai and Chirag were some of the films for which he
wrote his superb music.
This gifted person was none other than Madan Mohan, who passed
away at an early age.
I got Begum Akhtar for recordings several times during her visits
to Bombay . A very strange incident took place at one of the
recording sessions. The Muslims are usually extremely fond of
devotional songs - religious songs about Allah, Paigamber, Khwaja
Saheb Ajmeri, Mecca, Medina or the Kaaba are always in great
demand. Years ago a song, Urdu poet Behejad Lucknowi and record-
ed by Begum Akhtar, was a hit all over the country. She had not
cut another religious record after that. Therefore, that even-
ing, I pressed her to record a couple of naats (religious songs)
and she agreed.
I a]ways used to be under great tension during recording ses-
sions, from the moment the artist entered the studio till the
recording was successfully completed. It was always an ordeal for
me, as I had to keep the artist in a pleasant mood and humour
his or her whims. I had to be very observant of the likes and
dislikes of these artists and arrange everything to their lik-
ing. Some loved perfumes, some liked fragrant flowers, some pre-
ferred to have maghai paans; some took delight in having
knowledgeable listeners around, while others resented the pres-
ence of outsiders. One notable Gujarati singer had to be sur-
rounded by a bevy of beautiful young girls while the recording
was in progress. 'They produce electricity in me,' he said.
He always brought a consignment of these 'batteries' with him.
It was a very bothersome and taxing job to have to constantly
cater to the demands of these artists and to keep them in a good
mood.
On this particular day Begum Akhtar was in excellent form. We had
just completed the recording of two bewitching ghazals and were
getting ready for the recording of naats, when my Punjabi boss
walked in. casually. On being told that she was recording two
naats, the officer said, with a knowledgeable air, 'Look here,
Begumsab, we have recorded some really good naats sung by famous
qawals like Ismail Azad Qawal and Usuf Azad Qawal of Bhendi Ba-
zaar and these records sell like hot cakes. I suggest you also
sing in the same style.' I was taken aback by his audacity. To
suggest to an illustrious singer of national repute like Begum
Akhtar that she should copy the manner and style of an ordinary
qawal of Bhendi Bazaar was terribly insulting. Begum Akhtar was
red and speechless with anger and indignation. She controlled
herself, and pushing the harmornum away, lit a cigarette and be-
gan smoking furiously. I immediately saw that all hopes of
further recording that evening had gone up in smoke. The officer
went away after a while, not even aware of his blunder. Begum
Akhtar was still red in the face and was puffing at her
cigarette in an agitated manner. I said to her, 'Begumsab, we
won't do any more recording today. I am as upset as you are. We
will proceed with the recording tomorrow; please forget the in-
cident and sing in your usual style.' Kudhon ke Badshah set foot
inside the studio. How dare he make such silly and rude sugges-
tions!' However, by the next morning she had regained her normal
poise, and I met her at the hotel and brought her to complete the
recording. Begum Akhtar recorded the naats in her usual cap-
tivating style.
My boss had absolutely no business to tender such uncalled-for
advice to the great artist, but there was nothing I couId do
about it. For a long time after, whenever Begum Akhtar came to
our studios, she would ask me, 'Woh Kudhon ke Badshah kahan
hai?' In 1970 I officially retired after 32 years of service, but
the company prevailed upon me to go to Delhi on an important
mission. In the archives department of the central office of All
India Radio is a large collection of tapes and discs of eminent
artists from all over India. I was deputed to select recordings
of deceased artists to be used for commercial records.
During my absence a recording of Begum Akhtar was made in our
studio. She usually had a tanpura, tabla, harmonium and sarangi
to accompany her, but this time the recording was carried out
with an orchestral accompaniment under the supervision of a music
director from the films. When I heard the tape of the recording
on my return to Bombay, my first reaction was decidedly un-
favourable. I sincerely felt that Begum Akhtar had not sung with
her usual abandon and free style. Her voice sounded restrained
to me. After the astayee each antara was preceded by various in-
struments like the sitar or flute, in the style of a film song.
Because of these musical interludes to which she was not at all
used, her singing sounded rather artificial. The recording,
therefore, was no more than ordinary. This was my reaction and I
casually voiced it aloud. Someone who heard my remark repeated it
to Begum Akhtar. We had been close friends for a long time and
my unfavourable reaction to her recording made her miserable. So
much so that she cancelled all her engagements for the day and
sat in her room deep in gloom, lamenting her 'bad' performance.
I came to know of this and, putting aside all work, I hurried to
Sea Green South Hotel. She was lying in her room; she had not
taken any food and her eyes were red and swollen with weeping.
The moment she saw me she burst into tears. It was a tremendous
shock to see her in this state. That a chance remark of mine
should have caused her so much pain was unbearable to me. She had
complete faith in my judgement and when she was told that I did
not like her recording she had concluded that she had given a
most wretched performance. I had thus unintentionally caused her
a lot of anguish. The thought of this brought tears to my eyes
also. Later, when we had both regained our composure, I explained
that it was not her singing that had displeased me, but the fact
that she had not been given a chance to sing in her normal unres-
trained style and to display her talents. At last she was paci-
fied; all doubts vanished from her mind and she was convinced
that I had meant no offence to her. The atmosphere cleared as if
by magic. Both of us then partook of food, but in spite of her
regained tranquillity, she cancelled a musical sitting arranged
for that night as she did not feel physically and mentally up to
it. Such was the extreme sensitivity of her nature.
In the year 1971, on my return from a world tour, the company
persuaded me to work for them again. I therefore had one more
chance to record Begum Akhtar. This was the last recording made
by her and on this occasion she excelled herself. After the
recording she asked me mischievously, 'Do you think I sang well
today?' In August 1974 I went to America. While there I got the
sad news of her death in Ahmedabad. For days I was haunted by
memories of the many recording sessions, the many mehfils we had
enjoyed. Thoughts of our long association and friendship since
1951 brought tears to my eyes. I paid mute tribute to cherished
memories of her which are all she left behind and offered my
last salutation to her - 'Alwida...'
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Rajan Parrikar
From the RMIM Article Archive maintained by Satish Subramanian