Few practitioners of classical music can expand the ascending and descending scales of ragas in a systematic way without boring the listeners with repetition. Such artistes can be counted on fingers. Many such maestros are witnessing their sunset. Some have already gone to meet their maker. The grand Kishori Amonkar left this world on April 3, 2017 just a week before her 85th birthday. She had a truly long, successful and productive life — both as a musical genius and as someone who built a formidable legacy.
Many legendary artistes leave this world in adverse circumstances especially when their artistic contributions are already interred. But this was not the case with Kishori. When she was at her peak, she had given the world of music another ‘Kishori’ ie Arati Ankalikar. If a legend is able to groom another legend, that’s an unbelievable measure of success. Besides Arati, Kishori also groomed many artistes who turned out to be great practitioners of music. So, Kishori is not dead. She is alive and her music continues to flourish just like the two icons — Ustad Amir Khan and Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan.
I came to know about Kishori’s music through the columnist friend Ayaz Amir in 2001. He played a CD of her raga hunsdhun. Different fans of Kishori would admire her differently. The first thing that I fell in love with her music was her aakar (the use of sound Aa to vocalize the 7-notes of classical singing i.e. sa re ga ma pa dha ni sa). She needed no support of long esthai or antara. She would sing for 90 minutes and the entire rendition can be in aakar. Her notes were extremely powerful, precise and unwavering. The whole vocalization would be in meendhs (glides). There would be alap in alap but her forte was, there will be alap in vilambit (second movement) too! (This was Ustad Vilayat Khan’s speciality too.)
In her singing one could feel the notes floating on the horizon. She would sing calmly; won’t rush for taans — even in the CD that Ayaz played, I could have imagined that this lady was singing for herself, not for the audience. It is the latter that had gathered around her but she had no knowledge of their presence. And when YouTube came, this was confirmed. Kishori would close her eyes; she disliked lights or flashes on her face. She would sing in darkness. She would keep on plucking her surmandal. She would not like to mingle with the audience after the performance. She would not grant interviews because that would be a waste of time which should be given to riaz (mandatory practice).
Half of Kishori’s magic was hidden in her surmandal. She would tune it with marvelous precision as if a digital tuner was used. But there were no tuning gadgets. Everything was in her mind. The surmandal is floating in an ocean. The pressure of waves and water is plucking its strings — that’s the feeling she would create by plucking her surmandal.
Kishori, like other stalwarts, had the rare ability to put soul in any raga that she would attempt. In the presence of creators like Amir Khan and Bade Ghulam Ali, she had proven that raga Sampoorna Malkauns belonged to her — just like hunsdhun belonged to Amir Khan and thumris belonged to Bade Ghulam Ali. Nobody could initiate, expand and conclude Sampoorna Malkauns the way Kishori did. It is literally impossible to present it without repeating Kishori’s phrases.
I got second CD of Kishori from my former boss and friend Ali Tauqeer Sheikh — the climate change expert. She had vocalized lalit pancham. I have played it hundreds of times during the last 16 years. Each time, it would evoke new feelings. Her Bageshri’s bandish Aj Saio Na Jai Birha is full of pathos of somebody’s loneliness. It seems you are listening to the voice of a goddess which is filled with unfulfillable longing.
When Kishori was a new entrant, the world of classical music was being ruled by Bade Ghulam Ali and Amir Khan. Everybody was following them. But Kishori chose her own path. Play the recordings of the three geniuses and you can easily distinguish the traits and intonation styles. Creating a third school of thought in the presence of Amir Khan and Bade Ghulam Ali seemed impossible but she did it. Kishori’s student Arati must be hailed for the same reason. During the life of her guru, she carved her own identity. The credit also goes to Kishori — for imparting the authentic knowledge, which the so-called maestros hide these days.
The writer is a journalist/researcher based in Islamabad. He is also a student of tabla and classical vocal music. [email protected]