Sultan of shehnai Remembering Bismillah Khan on his birth anniversary

Varanasi, Mar 20 (PTI) The stairs are crumbling to dust, the walls ravaged by the passage of time and just beyond flows the Ganga as if in eternal serenity. It was here that a young Bismillah Khan practiced for hours - from 4 am till the sun came up and again in the afternoon till it went down.
     The strains of his shehnai have long faded away from the Naubat Khana but the Ustad, who took the instrument to the world stage and became synonymous with it, lives on somewhere in its recesses. And outside it too.
     On his 109th birth anniversary on Friday, memories of the man counted as one of India's greatest musicians linger in the corners of the temple town where he lived, learnt and played.
     He was the classical musician who famously heralded India’s independence on August 15, 1947 by playing Raag Kafi from the ramparts of the Red Fort ahead of Jawaharlal Nehru’s momentous ‘Tryst with Destiny’ speech.
     Anecdotes from the life of the sultan of shehnai, born Qamaruddin Khan in Bihar’s Dumraon on March 21, 1916, abound around the ghats and narrow gullies of the ancient city of Varanasi, or Banaras as it was known. For the residents of the town, some who knew him and others who grew up on stories about him, he was the world renowned musician and also a beacon of the Hindu-Muslim syncretic culture - the “Ganga Jamuni tehzeeb”.
     The Naubat Khana, at the intersection of the Balaji and Mangala Gauri temples, was perhaps his first stage. Nearly 20 years since his passing in 2006, the floor of the room and the passage to it has fallen through.
     “This is the place where he used to sit. His meditation was of four phases. He would light a diya in the alcove inside and sit down to play the shehnai at 4 am, then in the noon, then in the evening and later in the night,” Pandit Narayan Guru, head priest of the Mangala Gauri temple, told PTI.
     The routine he followed for more than three years as a young student was an odd mix of Hindu and Muslim morning rituals, starting from taking a dip in the Ganga, followed by morning namaz at Alamgir mosque nearby and then settling down to play at the Naubat Khana after lighting an earthen lamp.
     “He would play the shehnai at the Naubat Khana and also at the entrance of the temple but never inside. He was a devout Muslim but never looked differently at any Hindus he met, asking for their and their family’s well being,” recalled Prabhat Kumar Sharma, who manages the Balaji temple.
     Remembering the shehnai maestro as the best example of the culture of harmony for which the land was known for, Sharma said Khan would also donate money for the temple's food offerings.
     Khan, who was awarded the Bharat Ratna in 2001, passed on the baton of his music and his values of tolerance and harmony to his grandchildren. Many of them play the shehnai though they haven’t reached the heights of fame he did.
     “Dada ji never believed in the difference of Hindu or Muslim. ‘Music is the same for everybody’, he would say. ‘Music is my god and I have faith only in that’,” said one of his grandsons, 62-year-old Mohammed Shibtain.
     Another grandson Afaq Haidar added, “He used to say go to a clean and holy place if you want to learn music.”
     “This instrument has its roots in 'fakeeri' (mendicancy), the more you drown in it the more efficacy the almighty will bestow upon your music,” the 36-year-old said.
     Away from the Naubat Khana, Khan’s home, hidden in a maze of narrow lanes in Hadha Sarai area of Banaras, is evidence to the ‘fakeeri’. It is testament to his dedication to the craft, more often than not at the expense of materialistic wealth.
     Now turned into a shrine of sorts with his photos, awards, and shehnai, the room on the terrace, painted a bright green, is where Khan spent most of his time when at home.
     He would help everyone - in the last rites of someone in the area, for medical aid or for a wedding. “Be it Muharram or Eid, people used to wait for him to help them get through the hard times. They used to pray for his health,” remembered Zarina Begum, one of his three daughters. He also had five sons.
     Even though Khan was not keen on teaching music to the women of his family, he admired Zarina’s natural talent. She recalled with affection one particular incident.
     “I was preparing food in the kitchen and Abba left to meet some people downstairs. I did not know when he came back with his entire party. Lost in my thoughts, I was singing ‘Laagi Charan Tumri Khwaja Moinuddin’. Abba then scolded my brothers, ‘I have been wasting my lessons on you and here she is who has learnt it all while cooking’,” the 70-year-old said with a smile.
     Coming from a long line of court musicians, Khan came to Banaras as a three-year-old to learn the shehnai under his maternal uncle, Ali Bux ‘Vilayatu’ Khan, who was a shehnai player associated with the Kashi Vishwanath temple.
     The rest, as they say, is history.
     His journey onwards is marked with recordings, concerts and countless performances that collectively worked in making the shehnai a recognisable instrument on international stage and even establishing its status as a classical instrument.
     “Bismillah Khan converted the shehnai into a classical instrument. It used to be played at weddings and ceremonies, but he added the singing bit to it, added elements of dhrupad and dhamar, worked on ‘sur’ and ‘taan’. He would observe classical singers and would replicate how they were singing through the shehnai,” Haidar said.
     Long years of practice and a keen ear led him to familiarise the shehnai with various classical music forms, including thumri, chaiti, kajri, sawani and khayal.
     A prominent figure of the Banaras Gharana, Khan performed in India and across the world with his contemporaries and stalwarts of Hindustani classical music, including Pandit Ravi Shankar, Vilayat Khan, Amjad Ali Khan, and Hariprasad Chaurasia.
     His renditions of “Vaishnav Jana To”, “Raghupati Raghav Raja Ram”, and “Ganga Dware Badhaiyya Baje” established him as a musician par excellence.
     Khan died on August 21, 2006 at the age of 90, his entire life lived in the service of his music. He received multiple awards and recognition. He was the third classical musician after M S Subbalakshmi and Ravi Shankar to receive the Bharat Ratna, India’s highest civilian award.
     He also received the Sangeet Natak Akademi Award (1956), Padma Shri (1961), Padma Bhushan (1968), and Padma Vibhushan (1980).
     It has been many decades since he played. The road leading to his house, lined with shops of cosmetics and artificial jewellery, has been named after him. But the city now awaits a museum for one of its most celebrated sons.

(This story has not been edited by THE WEEK and is auto-generated from PTI)