Last of shehnai gurus
By Abhay Desai

THE shehnai has been likened to the human soul "vitalised by divine breath". Played mainly to invoke the blessings of the Almighty on ceremonial occasions, it has lately come to disuse, but for one man: Ustad Bismillah Khan.

In his eighties now, he is among the greatest living legends of Hindustani classical music — a cult figure and, verily, the last of surviving shehnai gurus in the subcontinent. Nobody has done as much to popularise the simple reed instrument as he had, for over half a century. Today, Khan leads a quiet, retired life in Benares, the ancient city of temples on the banks of the Ganga. He is much too old to play the shehnai any longer. But his music can still be heard on gramophone records during marriage functions and birthday celebrations.

"The instrument was used mainly for temple music," says the maestro. "I thought that if it can have such an association with the gods, why not play it on all auspicious occasions — pujas, marriages, birthdays, thread ceremonies...? That way, the shehnai would become more popular."

Significantly, the shehnai has remained in Khan’s family over five generations. It was passed on from his great, great grandfather Shehnai Nawaz Lat Ustad Salar Husain Khan down to his father Paighambar Bux Khan.

They were among the few Muslim musicians who were granted permission to perform in the many Hindu temples of Dumraon, in Bihar. Bismillah Khan was born in this towship (then a princely state) on March 21, 1916.

At the age of six, he shifted to the house of his maternal uncle, Ustad Ali Bux in Benaras. The latter, who was already an eminent shehnai player of his time, took the little boy under his wings and put him through the drill of riyaz (practice sessions) from the age of 11 years.

Every morning, before sunrise, the boy practised in solitude on the banks of the Ganga. "The air was very still at that hour," recalls the ustad "I could hear nothing except the sound of my shehnai and the tinkling of bells from the nearby Balaji temple."

In this tranquil setting, Khan honed his skills — innovating and inventing an intricate scheme of musical patterns, which were previously believed to be beyond the range of shehnai. By the time he was out of his twenties, he had discovered several ragas and played them at public functions.

"The depth of music and the calibre of musicians that used to perform over 50 years ago does not exist today because society and culture that supported the music do not exist any longer," says Khan. "It was very difficult to earn the appreciation of that society and culture."

But more than the appreciation and encouragement that he received in his formative years, Khan points out that he had the blessings of the many gods of Varanasi without which, he could not have made a success of his career.

"I have gone through many mystical experiences," he explains. "During my practice sessions, I used to have visions of a divine power guiding me, correcting me whenever I made mistakes. So whenever people said they found a mystical quality in my music, I was not surprised."

From his first public performance in 1930, at the All India Music Conference in Allahabad to the music concerts at Lucknow, Delhi, Aligarh, Bombay and Calcutta, Khan won countless awards and was greatly applauded.

In 1937, he bagged as many as three gold medals at the Calcutta Music Conference — a record of sorts in those days. Ten years later, he was invited to play for India’s first Independence Day celebration at Red Fort, on August 15, 1947.

He has also been invited to play at many international events such as the World Exposition at Montreal in 1967, World Music Conference at Osaka in 1970 and at the inauguration of the World Music Institute in New York in 1995.

The Indian Government has honoured him with several awards, including the Padma Shri and Padma Vibhushan. In Tehran, a newly-built auditorium has been named Talar Mosiqee Ustad Bismillah Khan — after him.

For all the honour and accolades he has earned, Khan remains extremely humble and a simpleton at heart. He has refused offers to set up music academies abroad and instead, prefers to stay in his modest house in Old Benares, next to the Ganga.

If he has any regret, it is his failure to pass on the baton in the family. According to him, shehnai will die with him. His only son, Ustad Nazim Hussain Khan, plays the tabla. (MF)