Daily Times

I am a helpless bathroom singer. I can start humming unconsciously anywhere and that is despite having a dreadful voice. And, of course, I crave good music. It is one of the things that make me run and yet it is something about which I talk very little. That is a bit ungrateful. But today, I will. The state of Pakistani music makes me feel kind of sad and I ask myself: when was the last time I heard a new original Pakistani song or piece of music that had the power to move me? Yes, we hear maestro Rahat Fateh Ali Khan but that is thanks to Bollywood. What happened to the era in which music would originate along the beds of the Indus and would flow east and west? An even bigger question: what happened to the diversity of Pakistani music?

Forget about international exports because we are far from the music culture of the west where they keep producing one international star after another. In between we had exceptions like the great Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan that is enough for us to feel content. However, even the local reach of our music is abysmal to say the least. We do not produce music geniuses like Noor Jahan, Nayyara Noor, Abida Parveen, Naheed Akhtar, Reshma, Shaukat Ali, Sohail Rana and many more, anymore. And post-Nusrat Fateh Ali, mimicry followed so that the music that is coming out is confined to western-fused Sufi music only. Where did the melody of Naheed Akhtar go? Where is the semi-classical touch of Tahira Sayyed? Or what about folk songs by Alan Fakir, Shaukat Ali, Mai Bhagi, Hamid Ali Bela and Pathanay Khan? Where are the classical geniuses like Ustad Amanat Ali Khan or Roshan Ara Begum? Even pop is mostly western-fused Sufi stuff and is far from the beats of Nazia, Zohaib and Alamgir. Is any one of the current lot of musicians even trying these different genres? Leave the genres, in qawaali alone we would have different styles and approaches of the likes of Aziz Mian and the Sabri brothers. Where did the diversity that was the hallmark of Pakistani music go? With more money entering the music industry in the 1990s, commercialism had to encourage experimentation and diversity. What on earth has gone wrong?

I am in awe of Rahat Fateh Ali’s voice. Ali Zafar has a very melodious voice as well. Recently, I happened to hear some of Zeb Bangash’s work in the Indian movie Highway. All of them, and more, are producing good music but most of it has the stamp of our eastern neighbour. For reasons social or economic, original Pakistani music, which used to be on the rise in the 1970s to the 1990s, is absent. What you see is either good musicians doing Bollywood or many more remixing, remaking, mimicking the greats of the past.

But why single out music? When was the last time one heard of a great piece of poetry from Pakistan? To me, the last ghazal that moved me was “Suna hai log usse ankh bhar ke dekhtay hain” (It is said that people cannot take their eyes off her) and the last poem to capture the imagination, “Ab kis ka jashan manatay ho” (Now what do you celebrate), both belong to the great Ahmad Faraz. Where went the tradition of poetry that had maestros like Faiz, Faraz or Muneer Niazi but also had Parveen Shakir, Obaid Ullah Aleem, Jon Elia, Nasir Kazmi, Habib Jalib and many more? Where did the melodious ghazals that would effortlessly make you fall into self-pity go or the revolutionary poems that would charge you up? Leave Urdu, where did the likes of the great Ustad Daman or even Saeen Akhtar or Manzoor Jhalla go?

And just when prose had never been a strong area in our part of the world, we had our share of presentable work. Of course, a Manto is not born every day but one could at least try writing something as original and ruthless. It may be hard to recreate the magic of Aag ka Darya (River of Fire) or Udas Naslaeen (Sad Generations) but the imagination cannot be so barren that nothing is produced in the shadow of these greats. Where went the Imran Series and the genius of Ibn-e-Safi? Where are our superheroes? The prose in the land of the pure has narrowed to ‘Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi’ (a mother-in-law was also a daughter-in-law once) or ‘Maut ka manzar marnay ke baad kya ho ga?’ (What will life be after death?). When was the last time one read a line like “Sannata itnay zor ka goonja ke usse laga us ke kanon ke parday phat jaeen gay”? (The silence resonated with such intensity that he thought his eardrums would burst).

O’ land of the pure, O’ land of Bulleh Shah, Sachal, Khushal Khan, Faiz and Iqbal, what happened to thee? O’ land of Heer and Sassi, why can one not hear your stories anymore? Where did the nightingales of Sindh, Punjab, Khyber, Makran and Kech go? Will they ever return?

I do not know the answer. Maybe in the era of globalisation arts as an industry has to be global with very few global hubs like Hollywood, Mumbai, etc. Or maybe the tide of history or some zealot social engineering experiment has drained the creativity out of our blood. Whatever the reason may be, the cultural scene in Pakistan is sad and barren. Let us keep humming on the beds, in the bath and beyond — hoping for the melody to return.

The writer is a freelance columnist and may be followed on Twitter @aalimalik