Remembering the lost notes of Naina Devi

Nonika Singh

When a book promises to introduce you to three facets of a redoubtable woman, you brace yourself for a riveting account. The woman in question, Naina Devi, is one of India’s well-known thumri singers and patrons of music. Add to it a royal heritage (she was married into the royal family of Kapurthala) and the appetite for a delectable account is whetted even further. Only the narrative takes a while to warm up.

Rich in detail and history, the book begins exactly from her year of birth; 1917. Yet, even before we meet Nilina Sen (her maiden name), we get glimpses of the 18th-century Calcutta. The author builds the social mosaic of those times replete with the babu culture and appeasement of the British by the desi rich. Keshab Chandra Sen, Nilina’s grandfather, appears as a dominating figure. Many interesting anecdotes introduce us to the stellar qualities of this social reformer who was also a prominent leader of the Brahmo Samaj. Famous names such as Debendranath Tagore, father of the Rabindranath Tagore, add to the narrative, carrying the story further and finally Nilina’s life begins to acquire shape. 

Her love for music and her sister’s love for cinema keep the interest rolling. However, before we get the real measure of her talent, her personal story unfolds. As she gets married to Rajkumar Ripjit Singh, acquires a new name, Rani Nina Ripjit Singh, the challenges that lie within the confines of royal splendour are laid bare. 

The book offers fascinating glimpses of Rani Nina Ripjit Singh’s royal life in Shimla, her life at a farmhouse in UP (United Province back in time) and her sojourns in Lucknow. Once again Mathur’s ability to delve deep into detailing manifests. Shimla, once a six square mile town, in those days was a playground of the British. Lucknow was the hub of nazakat and etiquette where Rani sahiba prevailed upon her husband to have private concerts of bajis which she would watch from behind the chilman (veil). Indeed, veil is not just lifted off Naina Devi’s life but off far many things. 

However, the author’s preoccupation with details, at times, eclipses the very person to whom the book is dedicated to. And the persona of Rani sahiba as Naina Devi, the one which she lived with for nearly four decades, emerges far too late. Her enriching musical odyssey is summarised in just about 60 pages of the 200-page book.   

Even though Nilina’s Song may not be on a song but it is a well crafted and researched biography. Had the linear graph been dispensed away with and the central character more fore-grounded, it could have been a real page turner. 

However, in its present format, it’s still a highly informative, exhaustive and readable book that tells you more than a thing or two about the times in which this luminary lived, struggled and finally found her métier and niche. Besides, both the introduction and the epilogue add to our understanding of the woman whose life, like the notes of octave that touch high and low, to finally emerge triumphant. That in itself is a victory for the author whose personal interaction with her subject might have been limited to two years only. But she doesn’t allow it to limit her writing or her grasp of not just her mentor Naina Devi but the other two extensions of her personality Nilina and Rani Nina as well. Rather to the ‘dotted lines’ she adds enough flesh and meat.  About the woman who defied conventions as well as followed tradition, the book weaves a fine socio-cultural matrix with music as a running thread. It, nevertheless, remains a collector’s delight with some wonderful pictorial support.