Twenty two years

 

Twenty two years!

When I cherish the memories of my medical college life in Calicut, the city well known for its love of music; the most memorable experience of all was the mehfil where we listened to or rather  experienced the magic of Mehdi Hasan Saab's singing. I had never been able to comprehend the meaning of ecstasy until that day, for it was the first time ever I experienced it and perceived what it was like to be transcended by music.
       My taste and level of enjoying Ghazals were in its infancy, and accessing favourite music or movies was difficult in those days. It was not long then since I had started listening to Ghazals of the likes of Pankaj Udhas, Jagjit Sing, Ghulam Ali, etc. and I had seldom listened to Shahenshah-e-Ghazal, as most of his Ghazals are heavily classical, and I was not in the level to enjoy them to the fullest extent, nor I had yet listened to his most popular Ghazals.
          When I learnt that Khan Saab was under medical treatment at Kottakkal and would perform at Tagore Hall, I had decided to attend it but hardly knew that it was going to be the most unforgettable musical treat of my life.
        As we entered the hall our beloved teacher, Dr. Shafique sir was singing to engage the spectators prior to the beginning of Khan Saab’s mehfil. I had not known, until that day, that one Ghazal could be rendered in various styles and improvisations, and later, I perceived that the essence of Ghazal itself lies in it. In the same function, Dr. Shafique was accepted by Khan Saab as a disciple. Another singer, Ghulab Jan also performed before Khan Saab arrived.
         As all the seats were occupied before we reached, we had to sit on the steps, in between the rows of seats. Khan Saab introduced each one of his team, and then started the mehfil with Gulon Me Rang Bhare, if I remember correctly. It was when Khan Saab started to render Rafta Rafta, I really got into the flow, experiencing the real magic. As his majestic voice waved through the Tagore Hall, caressing some phrases gently and chiseling some words into perfection, there l sat looking at his mouth, wondering where this ethereal voice is coming from and what amazing feats the great Usthad is making it perform....
       At times, he let the Tabalist (percussionist) to play his part solely, and as he touched the pinnacle, Khan Saab applauded him along with the crowd. Khan Saab rendered many of the farmaish (request) from the well engaged spectators and our request was drowned in the overwhelming flow of requests.
       In the way back to the hostel itself I bought an audio cassette of his songs that contained the songs like Ranjish Hi Sahi, Nawazish Karam etc. but it took ages for those recorded songs to replace the memories of the majestic voice I experienced in person.
         It was after quite a while that I learnt with utmost sadness that the night which changed my perception of music itself was the last public performance of the Emperor of Ghazal. Twenty two years have passed since that last performance of Mehdi saab (29/10/2000) which was my first and last occasion of seeing him!
           Like I said earlier, I had listened to very few of Mehdi Saab's ghazals until then. But he made a solid place for himself in my heart, that very night. Later, as I listened to him sing same ghazals, rendered in umpteen different styles and variations, that niche grew and grew in magnitude to finally  become a throne, making him the Emperor of Ghazals (Shahenshah-e-Ghazal) in my heart, like in the hearts of millions around the globe.
          Later I heard stories of others who visited Khan sab in his hospital room. A musician named Saleem from Tirur, used to visit him regularly, alone or with friends. He helped Mehdi saab in different ways. Both of them used to sit together for long, discussing music. Once Khan Saab asked him for a harmonium as he was feeling bored. He brought his own harmonium, a locally made one. Mehdi saab found it to be an excellent instrument. Later, he asked him if Saleem would give that harmonium to him. Actually, Saleem wanted to keep it for himself as 'the harmonium that Mehdi touched'! But when the maestro, his idol in music, asked for it, he gave it away happily, saying the instrument was so dear to him as his youngest son! Khan Saab tried to pay him, but he would hear nothing of it. Mehdi saab took it with him when he left the hospital.
             Our great poet Gulzar Saab once wrote a poem as a tribute to the maestro about the time his Ghazals ceased to exist:

"Aankhon ko visa nahin lagta
Sapnon ki sarhad hoti nahin

Band aankhon se roz chala jaata hoon
sarhad paar main milne Mehdi Hassan se

Sunta hoon unki aawaz ko chot lagi hain,
aur ghazal khamosh hai

Saamne baithe hue
kaamp rahe hain honth ghazal ke

Lekin un aankhon ka lehja badla nahin,
jo kehte hain:
''Sookhe hain phool kitabon men,
yaar Faraz bhi bichad gaye hain,
shayad milenge khwabon me" "

Gulzar

Eyes never needed visa
Nor dreams are restricted by boundaries

Eyes shut, I cross the boundaries
every day, to meet Mehdi Hasan

I hear that his voice has been
Ghazals have ceased to speak

Sitting in front of me
lips of the ghazal are trembling

But the language of those eyes has not changed,
and they say:

"The flowers hidden in the book have withered away
Beloved friend Faraz* too has bidden farewell
We may meet in dreams, perhaps…" #

Translation: Shaji Alungal

# Paraphrasing the ghazal, 'Abke hum bichde'
*Ahmed Faraz (The poet who wrote 'Abke hum bichde')

This post was originally written in Malayalam and is translated to English by Ashiq Ajmal