Tuesday, August 18, 2020

Remembering Pandit Jasraj

The news of Pt Jasraj's passing came yesterday and it seems indeed like the end of an era. He has always been on my go-to playlist of favourites. His classical performances but equally his bhajans and chants never fail to move me.

As a journalist, I met him in 2001 in Nizam College, where the Pt Maniram-Pt Motiram Samaroh used to take place in those days. I remember his warmth and affection. He was speaking and I was nodding at everything he said. Suddenly he broke off and asked, "Why aren't you writing all that down?"

"Mujhe yaad rahega, Panditji," I had smiled. I seldom made notes apart from dates and specific references. 

"Yaad-dasht achchi hai tumhari, hein!?" he had patted me on my head. 

Jai Ho, Panditji!


This piece appeared on 28 November 2001 in Hyderabad Times, Times of India

Acharya devo bhava

It's like clockwork. Come November 30 every year, the city is fortunate to welcome into its midst, some of the country's most talented and most promising musicians. Because every year, Pt Jasraj, the stalwart of the Mewati gharana pays tribute to his father Pt Maniram and grandfather Pt Motiram with a sangeet samaroh. The man behind it all, Pt Jasraj, is in the city and Hyderabad Times met up with the maestro for a chat.

These past few days, Panditji has been holding long sessions with students in Hyderabad, imparting his knowledge of a lifetime. It's a curious fact, but of all the masters in the world of Hindustani music today, no guru has yielded quite so many disciples as Pt Jasraj. Of them, Sanjeev Abhyankar and Tripti Mukherjee are seen as worthy successors. Rattan Mohan Sharma is yet another promising singer.
"Yes, I find as much pleasure in teaching as I do performing," says Panditji, in response to that observation. "You see, some time or the other the human body gives up," he explains, "and what will we leave behind us, if we don't impart our knowledge to younger people?"

He has an interesting story to tell about why he regards the guru-shishya relationship so highly: "When I was 11, I had been playing the tabla for five years. One college student asked me if I would teach him and I agreed. We had this little ceremony of tying the 'ganda' (a sacred thread) and he gave me a dakshina of Rs 3 with prasad, etc. When I came home, my mother was so annoyed with me. She explained what a responsibility it is to accept a student, and what a deep bond it creates. Since then, I have never taken that role lightly."

He has four schools in the America alone - one each in Vancouver, New York, New Jersey and Atlanta, where he teaches. He teaches in Mumbai also. But for all the time he spends on his students, he doesn't charge a paisa. "Vidyadaan is a very special thing," he says, "unlike money it doesn't get spent. And it enriches the giver as much as the recipient." His sincerity strikes you, when he narrates, "I've always hated to accept money for tuitions but till 1963, I had no option. But once, I prayed to God, asking him to give me enough to run my household, so that I wouldn't be obliged charge my students. He listened to me, for that very day, I got a telegram offering me Rs 800 per month."

His children Durga and Sharang haven't taken to classical music, but then you know he means it when he says, "All my students are my children."

Tuesday, August 11, 2020

Imprint

I hailed one of our street vendors this morning to buy flowers for Krishna Janmashtami today. They were fresh and lovely and I splurged on a bit of everything - chamanti, sanna jaaji, malli, lilies, roses... 

It's been almost ten years since my mother passed away and still he said wistfully, "Amma achche se, chchaav se lete the!" I remember Leelamma specially on festival days too - she would sit in the tiny pooja room, and sing as she weaved garlands. Our neighbours across the back wall still remember pausing in their work to hear her sing. 


Wonderful, isn't it, to be remembered like that, a decade after you've left?


But then what of Krishna? That Glorious One who walked this earth more than 5,000 years ago? And still we talk of his beauty, his feats, his cuteness, his charm, his colour, his clothes, his lovers, his enemies, his wiles, his compassion. Even today, people dress up their young children in his image, tying up peacock feathers in their hair. Even today, songs are sung in longing for him.

Still to remain an intimate experience for millions of people, still tangible... you could close your eyes today, reach out for him, and manage to touch him. 

How truly wonderful to have lived like that! 

 

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