Kolkata, WEST BENGAL &  UTTAR PRADESH :

At the age of 104, Ustad Abdul Rashid Khan continues to enthral music lovers across the country with his vocal stamina, virtuosity and lyricism.Vandana Shukla has the honour of meeting the maestro

As he is brought to the stage, resplendent in silk kurtaadorned with gold chains, the audience gapes. His age alone makes him a phenomenon worth watching. By the end of his 90-minute recital, they are awestruck—Ustad Abdul Rashid Khan’s gamak taan can make a 25 year-old sulk for want of stamina. But there is no arrogance, only a childlike simplicity when the 104 year-old Ustad removes his black topi and shows us a layer of black hair sprouting from beneath his glorious silver. We wonder about his teeth; after a 100 years, the teeth are said to reappear as well. “The new ones will come only when the old ones fall,” chirps his grandson Bilal Khan, who accompanies him on the tabla.

A direct descendant and proponent of the third son of Miyan Tansen, Surat Sen, Ustad Abdul Rashid Khan sings like autumn leaves surrendered to the winds—in complete abandon. Sitting cross-legged while rendering Puriya Dhanashree, his arms spread like wings, releasing permutations of notes that even connoisseurs find hard to keep track of, floating across labyrinthine octaves. Those who came to the show to satisfy their curiosity about his age now find themselves impelled to stay mesmerised by his artistry. “He enjoys God’s blessings,” says eminent vocalist Pandit Ulhas Kashalkar. “Most vocalists can’t sing beyond the age of 80 years but he still sings with so much power.”

Ustad Abdul Rashid Khan has no concrete answers to offer on his longevity or mastery over music. All he allows us is a glimpse of an amazing mind and soul that live in complete surrender to the Almighty. He is creative like a child, energetic like a young man, and wise like a wizard. Two years ago, while arriving for a concert in Brindavan, he found people greeting each other with ‘Radhe Radhe’. He didn’t have any compositions using the term Radhe, though there were many with references to Krishna. Within 10 minutes of the drive that took him from the hotel to the concert hall, he composed two beautiful bandish.

He still travels extensively, his concert tours sometimes running for a month at a stretch. We meet him in Chandigarh a day after he has performed at Kamani Auditorium in Delhi; the day before that, he was in Lucknow. In the days ahead, he will go back to Delhi for two consecutive concerts, and then to Varanasi and Allahabad. He attempts an explanation: “When I sing, only God is with me, I do not see anything; I do not do anything; everything is done by Allah!” His faith in the divine was reinforced many years ago. “I was close to
50 when I was given mercury in my food at Khagra in West Bengal,” he recounts. “In those days, when two artists engaged in a duel; one had to lose. The person who lost poisoned me out of envy. I lost my fingers and toes; how my vocal cords were spared was a miracle. I live so that I can sing, and it is His will.”

Ustad refuses to dwell upon what has been lost. “I don’t take any medication. I have only heard of older, and younger, people suffering from diabetes and high blood pressure,” he says with a chuckle. Still, he is a stickler for his routine—he doesn’t eat lunch because it interferes with his namaaz. He compensates with a good breakfast and dinner, which includes chicken, meat and a sweet, preferably rasmalai or gulab jamun.

His appetite for rhythm and rhyme is equally hearty. Gifted with a natural mastery over words—he has penned thousands of verses and compositions under the pen name Rasan Piya—Ford Foundation and ITC Sangeet Research Academy (ITCSRA) have recorded about 2,000 of his compositions for their archives. In the view of Ustad Mashkoor Ali Khan of the Kirana gharana, it is these recordings that enabled the world to learn about Ustad’s talent. “Once people heard him in Kolkata, they realised what a reservoir of knowledge he has,” he says. “It was then that ITCSRA decided to invite him to Kolkata. He has produced many shagird. He is an amazing vocalist; for his age it is no less than a miracle. This apart, he is an extraordinary composer.”

How many of his compositions does the Ustad remember? “Arre baap re!” he chortles. “I don’t remember anything. I just remember Allah.” Hundreds of bandish were, in fact, chewed by a goat, Bilal tells us teasingly and adds, “People plagiarise his compositions; somebody earned thousands of dollars by fusing his Bhairavi composition with French music, and recently I heard a group from Pakistan sing his composition as their own.” With his characteristically naughty smile, Ustad dismisses Bilal and says, “Let them steal; I will compose 10 new ones. Why should I feel sad over such triviality?”

As a child, he was forced by his father to leave kushti (wrestling), his great passion, fearing he might pull a muscle in the neck that might affect his vocal cords. “I had to leave akhada, I could not disobey,” he says. “He was my father and guru. In those days, discipline was foremost and so was obedience. My grandfather Ustad Bade Yusuf Khan was given the stage after 22 years of taleem. We were made to see that each raga had a personality, and you could not disrespect it by hurting its character, by singing it at a wrong time and season.” Those roots continue to nourish him. “Music has been my life and it has given me everything,” he says with candour. “Bismillah Khan, whom I revere, once asked violinist Dr M Rajam, who was heading the music department at Benaras Hindu University, to wait till he arrived. He wanted to hear my concert.” This is something he misses today, the paucity of good listeners who truly appreciated the value of music.

Does he, then, worry that the tradition is being diluted? “No,” he replies firmly. “There are organisations like ITCSRA, Devi Foundation and SPICMACAY [Society for the Promotion of Indian Classical Music and Culture Among Youth] that are doing a lot to save this tradition.” Part of this effort is to embrace change. For instance, girls were not taught music in his gharana—he deprived his own daughters of musical training—and his sons grew up to become contractors. But today, Ustad is proud of his female disciples, who include Rupali Kulkarni, Pampa Banerjee and Shashi Tripathi. “I was nine when Baba started teaching me,” recalls Kulkarni, a station director with Vividh Bharati. “He was as loving as a father while being an exacting teacher. He would get mejalebi, yet lay a lot of emphasis on varjish [exercise], telling me that controlling one’s breath and singing require a lot of stamina. He composed such difficult yet beautiful compositions for me.”

Ustad’s grandson Asad Ali Khan is equally fulsome in his praise—he is the only grandchild that Ustad has trained vocally and lives and travels with him, like Bilal. “In my opinion, there is no teacher in India more knowledgeable than Baba,” he says in a tone that borders on reverence. “He is my Baba; at the same time, he is the best teacher one could have. He never gave me special treatment and treated me like any other disciple. He never loses his temper, yet he makes us do what he wants. He is also fun to be with.”

Ustad too revels in the company of his disciples, particularly when they tour together for concerts. He speaks to them well into the night, not letting them sleep! “Why waste the night sleeping when there is so much to say and sing?” he wonders. When he is not on the road, he teaches music at Kolkata ITCSRA from 11 am to 4 pm. Ustad’s memory remains as active as the maestro himself. He still remembers all his students (past and present), the names of his 15 grandchildren, who all live in Rae Bareilly, and all the dates and places of significance to his life. He is reticent, though, on the subject of his wife—he lost her when his children were young and he appears to have drawn a gentle veil over that chapter. Indeed, setbacks or successes, the Ustad has handled them all with consummate dignity—and faith. As he tells us, “Himmat… sirf himmat se hi safar tay hota hai, aur himmat voh deta hai. (Only courage takes you along, and courage comes with His grace).

Featured in Harmony Magazine
December 2010

source: http://www.harmonyindia.org / Harmony India.org /  Home> H People> Diary 100 / Featured in Harmony – Celebrate Age magazine,  December 2010