Mallikarjun Mansur : Tenth Death Anniversary
naniwadekar
Mallikarjun Mansur's name first came to my attention
thanks to Pu La Deshpande's felicitous pen. PuLa had
started appealing to me when I still hated Classical
music, especially of the vocal variety. His compulsive
references to music were something to be tolerated. This
state of affairs changed dramatically when first Bhimsen
Joshi and later other vocalists began to appeal to me.
There was one problem, though. No 'pre-Independence
artistes', as I used to mistakenly call them, made any
impression on me, except Dinanath and Abdul Karim Khan.
And even Khan Sahab's appeal probably owed a lot to the
spell Bhimsen had put me under. One of the vocalists,
praised to the skies by the critics, who failed to make
any impression upon me was Bal Gandharva, whom PuLa
worshipped. For this display of poor taste, PuLa was
marked as being inexplicably backward in musical matters
though his writing was of course wonderful and though I
certainly shared his regard for Vasantrao Deshpande and
Kumar Gandharva. Since PuLa was a devotee of Mansur's
singing, I confidently expected him to be a boring
singer, just like Bal Gandharva.
It was in this mental state that I first heard
Mallikarjun Mansur on AIR about two decades ago. Either
he did not sing very well or, and this is much more
likely, I was not yet ready for him. I was bored no end
and decided that I was correct in suspecting Mansur to be
yet another of PuLa's fads, like Bal Gandharva. I heard
Mansur a few more times on AIR after my first exposure to
his art; I did not see any reason to change my opinion.
A couple of years later, a friend visited a music shop
and bought cassettes by as many big names as he could,
among them Mansur's Jait Kalyan. A few of us warned him
to prepare himself for that torture and advised him that
he should play Mansur when we were not around. One fine
morning, probably when he felt he had a few scores to
settle against us while we idly played bridge in the
adjacent hostel-room, he started playing Jait Kalyan. It
is impossible to convey in words the electric effect it
had on (some of) us. There could be no doubt that I was
experiencing a very rare, epiphanous moment, the like of
which can present itself but very, very rarely.
Another couple of years passed during which I got to hear
some nice renditions by him. I got my first chance to
hear him in a concert during a 'sampoorna-raatri' event
in Delhi on Saturday, 12 September 1987. The roll-call of
artistes included many of the biggest names - Dagar
brothers, Prabhakar Karekar (who did very well indeed
with his Nat-bhairav) and Bhimsen. But Mansur easily
stole the show with a hypnotic Gaud Malhar. He followed
it with few short pieces with no diminution at all in the
quality. About the same time, Mansur, quite
unaccountably, became as fashionable in Delhi as Amjad
Ali Khan, who, in his turn, was giving Amitabh Bachchan a
run for his money. In 1990 alone, I must have heard him
(Mansur that is, not Amjad, nor yet Bachchan) at least 6
times, the last appearance coming just a few weeks before
he was to complete eight decades of existence. He
unfolded a majestic Bhairav which even a great singer in
his prime would do well to match. He could not keep his
appointment for the Shankarlal Festival in April 1991, as
he lay struggling for life. The prognosis was gloomy; but
he recovered. He was awarded the Padma-vibhushan in
January 1992. He visited Delhi to receive it and even
gave a concert or two. On his way back to Dharwad he
visited Pune for the last time as the chief guest for
some anniversary celebration of Bhaskarbuwa Bakhale's
music school, held on 12 April 1992. Bhimsen was to be
the main singer; but Mansur would have none of it. He
insisted that he wanted to pay his tribute to Bhaskarbuwa
by singing himself. He made a short speech lamenting that
singers like Alladiya Khan Sahab and Bhaskarbuwa, 'who
could present a raag with skill over an hour or two',
were no longer around. He sympathised with us that we had
to make do with singers like him who were good enough for
at most 15-20 minutes. He privately warned Bhimsen 'not
to bore us for too long and spare some time for me'. Then
he gave a very short recital, starting with Raag Savani.
Now in his ninth decade, he, quite improbably, still had
the same child-like enthusiasm, the same infectious joy
for music which had been a wonder to behold for more than
half-a-century. News came a few months later that he had
fallen seriously ill again, barely a year after his
miraculous recovery. Come 12 September 1992, again a
Saturday, exactly five years after I had first heard him
in a Saturday concert, and Mansur was dead. Today is the
great man's tenth death anniversary.
Mansur did not just set high standards but he refused to
compromise even though he had to face relative obscurity
during his peak years. It is impossible to imagine Mansur
resorting to cheap gimmmicks calculated to draw applause.
He knew nothing besides music and he stayed
uncompromisingly loyal to his art. He was always highly
regarded among the cognoscenti. Many observers are of the
opinion that the well-deserved period of popularity he
enjoyed in his 70s, when he, in his own words, was
singing 'retirement kaa gaanaa', came about because his
friend Pu La Deshpande, a hugely influential voice, kept
flying his banner. It is well-known that PuLa was not
just among the most famous Marathi writers of the last
century but also an excellent harmonium player, composer
and singer who enjoyed close friendship with many musical
giants. Mansur often stayed with Pu La Deshpande and his
talented wife Sunitabai when he visited Pune. After Pu La
and Sunitabai got old, he would stay with Bhaskarbuwa's
grandson Sudhir Datar and his wife Shaila. As an aside,
after giving his last performance in Pune at the SAWAI in
December 1991, Kumar Gandharva visited Dharwad to spend
some time with Mansur. Kumar had only a few more weeks
left in this world that time, Mansur only a few more
months. Sunitabai used to take such excellent care of her
guest Mansur that he would often say : 'This sister is
like my mother.' Pu La had often provided harmonium
sangat to Mansur. His tribute to Mallikarjun Mansur,
first published in April 1973, and anthologised in the
book, 'guN gaa_ii_n aavaDii', has set a high bench-mark
for glorious writing on music. The tribute was titled
'ek gaaNyaat raahaNaaraa maaNuus' (A man wholly immersed
in music). The literal translation is : 'A man who lives
in gaanaa/song/music'. It appears on pp 81-90 in the
eighth edition of the book. Here is a translation of the
famous and oft-reproduced article to mark Mansur's tenth
death anniversary. It is believed that this article
finally turned the tide and got people wondering who this
singer was. About a decade down the road, Mansur got the
concert solicitations, fame and adulation which he had
never sought but were rightfully his. He responded to
public recognition with guileless incredulity. How
innocently and heartily he laughed after yet another of
his khayals was greeted on peroration with deafening
cheers and awe-struck wah-wah's! It is no starry-eyed
exaggeration to suggest that the sight and sound of his
laughter matched the grandeur of his singing.
The rights to this article have probably been sold. To
whom, Sunitabai could not remember. Her eyesight is quite
weak due to old age now. She can't read any more. (It is
good that Pu La died while she was still fit enough to
help him through his Parkinson's affliction.) She is very
particular about copyright issues and had waged quite a
vicious battle with casual Marathi/Indian attitude to
copyright. I told her I was planning to publish a
translation of PuLa's article on Mansur for an internet
music forum. She said she found this internet business
extremely confusing and that there was no way she could
grasp just what my posting translation on the internet
would amount to. She graciously agreed to accept the sum
offered by me and gave me permission to translate PuLa's
article(s). I am thankful to her. Our discussion also
covered the issue of royalty for PuLa's article on
Vasantrao Deshpande which I had translated for RMIC/M in
November 2001. The agreed-upon sum of money has been
handed over to Sunitabai through Abhay Patil, a friend of
mine based in Pune. She told me that the articles, rights
to which have been bought, with a possible intention of
translating them, might never get translated into English
by those who have bought the rights. While due permission
has been obtained, the following translation of the
article is NOT an authorized translation.
The Deshpandes have lived a spartan life and donated
generously huge sums to many good causes. Sunitabai
passes on most of the money she gets through royalty to
the series of social institutions under the 'TaaraangaN'
banner patronised by her. KaNaad Scientific Research
Trust is also a beneficiary of her generosity. (The exact
name and nature of the Trust have escaped my memory.) She
shot down the proposal to name it after Einstein and
insisted that Kanad Muni deserved to be honoured by
Indians. He was among the first to divine, centuries ago,
that the universe is made up of a very small unit named
atom or 'kaN', as he chose to call it.
I have made some very minor adjustments to the article in
the interest of accuracy.
- dhananjay naniwadekar
12 september 2002
-----------------------------------------
A Man Wholly Immersed In Music.
(Original article in Marathi by Pu La Deshpande,
titled 'ek gaaNyaat raahaNaaraa maaNuus'.
It is included in the book 'guN gaa_ii_n aavaDii'.
Translation by Dhananjay Naniwadekar, to commemorate
Mallikarjun Mansur's tenth death anniversary. While due
permission has been obtained from Sunitabai Deshpande,
P L Deshpande's wife, the following translation of the
article is NOT an authorized translation. The translator
is aware that the original author may get projected
incorrectly in such a translation. The original article
was published in April 1973. Mallikarjun Mansur was
born on 31 December 1910. He died on 12 September 1992,
aged 81.)
Mallikarjun Mansur is a man wholly immersed in music. As
such his postal address is 'Mrutyunjay Banglaa, Dharwad'.
But Anna is always to be found inhabiting some musical
landscape. In the morning, he lives in Todi-Asavari.
Afternoon, in the shadow of Sarang. In the evening, he
sits in the drawing room of Marwa-Puriya, and night finds
him in the mansion of Yaman-Bhoop-Bageshri.
Anna is a family man who looks after a unit comprising of
wife, five-six married-unmarried daughters, one son and
daughter-in-law, and grandchildren. He has built a small
house through his earnings. But that is one Mallikarjun
Mansur - known variously as husband, father, grandfather,
etc. One more Mallikarjun occupies that frail body. And
this other fellow always lives in music. He took up
residence there when he was not yet ten and today, even
in his sixty-third year, that mehfil is going on without
a pause. That music doesn't need to book a hall. It
doesn't need invitation from any music circle, doesn't
need harmonium-tabla for sangat, doesn't even need any
audience. More than the throat, his eyes tell you that
the mehfil is going on ceaselessly. In presence of
others, Anna talks, Anna listens, Anna looks at you; but
he doesn't wholeheartedly talk, doesn't properly listen,
doesn't fully look at you. Somewhere within, this man is
half-lost. Those eyes keep observing swaras of some raag
inwardly. They sparkle with delight on renewing
acquaintance with a long-lost cheez. When he meets a
fellow-addict of swara, the conversation suddenly
diverges from its worldly tread with an invitation to
'see this bandish'. Then time stands still. The tangible
world dissolves away and the listener is brought face to
face with his awesome mastery over swara.
By now, I have been listening to his singing for about
thirty-five years. I have also had the fabulous good
fortune of interacting with him at length. I am as
hungry for his company as for his swara. Since childhood,
I have been blessed with a dauntlessly oversmart nature
which is a necessary trait for a music lover. Thanks to
that nature, since my school-going days, I and my friend
Sharu Redkar have heard his mehfils seated at such short
distance from him that our noses rubbed against the
stage. If you want to grab a share of the prasad after
aarati in temple, you need to learn the art of sneaking
near the priest. If a few people grumble about such
behaviour, you have to learn to ignore their remarks. If
you want to be in the front row of mehfil, you must
master some tricks. He who doesn't know how one should
grab the Buwa's tanpuras while he is getting off the
tonga and win a passage to the front row with that
tanpura hasn't even taken the first dip in the art of
attending mehfil. I have rendered lot of service to
Indian Music by helping carry tanpuras of many singers to
the stage. I have especially served Anna a lot that way.
By accompanying him on harmonium, I have also subjected
his patience and good nature to a severe test.
There is one more aim behind sneaking in with the
tanpuras. Hearing the tanpuras being slowly tuned is a
great pleasure. I get very upset when I watch people talk
among themselves while the tanpuras are being tuned.
Hearing a tanpura being tuned is as pleasurable as
watching a woman put on make-up. Just as the scene is
ready for transfer when a pearl ear-ring is added to a
bare ear, so with a tanpura when it slowly attains its
jowar. Then the eager anticipation begins for the
tanpura's sur to be uttered by the singer. Just as the
lucky onlooker waits for the beauty to complete her
make-up and bestow a charming smile upon him, so does a
listener get eager to meet the first shhaDja. That first
ShaDja (shadaj/Shadaj) carries the power to enslave the
listener. Our Ramubhayya Daate had once gone to listen to
Begum Akhtar. He heard the first shadja and said : 'Bas!
I am already satisfied now!' That first shadja itself had
demanded all his power of giving daad. He had no more
daad left with him to repay the debt of the rest of the
concert. The remaining concert became an unrepayable debt
whose weight he must always remain under.
Mallikarjun Mansur is among those great singers whose
first shadja itself burdens the listener with a debt that
cannot be repaid. For about thirty-five years now, it has
been my great fortune to listen to his first shadja
mingle and become one with the jowaridar shadja of the
tanpura. This shadja is constantly being strummed on his
hriday-veena. Nay, Mallikarjun Mansur is nothing but
that veena.
His ever-ongoing mehfil does not need any worldly
accessories at all. Every time I reminisce about his
concerts which I have heard over so many years, I get the
powerful feeling that Mallikarjun Mansur is nothing but a
man who is wholly immersed in music. Here is a story from
bygone years, a story so old that you could get a
rice-plate in Mumbai in those days for ek-aanaa, that is
five paisaa, with buttermilk and papad included. In a
labyrinth in Mumbai, called 'Jhaavabaachii vaaDii', lived
a friend of Anna's, named Taay_kar. This bachelor friend
lived in a single cramped room, of size eight yards by
eight, not a square inch more. If a concert had ever been
planned in that house, the room would have accommodated
only the two tanpuras, Buwa himself and the harmonium
player. Tabalji would be forced to sit in the 'gallery'
and manage to keep theka while he also made sure that the
reckless passers-by didn't kick around his tabla-daggaa.
There was a 'bathroom' within that room itself, one of
those special 'attached bath-rooms' to be found in the
old chawls. It rather used to be a case of the room being
an attached appendage to the bathroom. Anna was bathing
in it one morning in a sitting posture (the only posture
the bathroom allows - dn). In a corner stood an
apologetic tanpura, guiltily conscious of having occupied
some space in the small room. It was uncovered. A guest
walked in and couldn't resist the sight. He ran his
fingers casually over the tanpura.
'Hmmm! chaalu de, chaalu de', Anna called from the
bathroom. (chalane do, chalane do).
[The bathroom is called 'morii'. It is mostly covered by
two walls about three feet tall on two sides. The other
two sides are the walls of the bigger room. A small one
foot wide opening takes you inside the 'mori'. While
bathing, curtains have to be drawn. It is an article of
faith for NRIs and wannabe NRIs to mock the mori and
laugh at Indians who refer to balcony or the elongated
passage that leads to many houses in a chawl as
'gallery'. And if somebody knows about Mansur and Bhagat
Singh instead of Michael Jackson and Charles 'who' de
Gaulle, he is less than human, not even worth laughing
at. No, this is not one of my jokes. I have met such
people. They tend to be patrons of music and can be seen
at A R Rahman's concerts. - dn]
'Hmmm! chaalu de, chaalu de', Anna called from the
bathroom on hearing tanpura.
Once Anna himself had asked for the tanpura to be kept
going, what else could the visitor ask for? The
shadja-pancham came out of the tanpura and reverberated
in the room. Buwa broke into Todi from inside the
bathroom itself. He finished his bath and dried himself,
all the while being accompanied by Todi. The room was
drowned under the waves of Todi. The night before, the
air in Girgaon's Ambewadi area during the Ganapati
Festival celebrations was surcharged by Meerabai's
supplication clothed in Anna's Bhairavi : 'mat jaa
jogii'. After Anna returned home past 2 AM and lay on his
bed, Todi must have replaced Bhairavi and taken residence
in his mind. That Todi was doing rounds in Anna's head.
The sound of tanpura acted as a key on the closed door of
Anna's silent Todi and drew it out into the physical
world. That modest room and the mori were transmogrified
into a swar-mandir. The wet, bathing body forgot what it
was doing and 'langar kaa kariya' bloomed. That soulful
Todi soaked the entire being of the two-three lucky
listeners more truly than the water can have soaked
Anna's own body.
Many singers sing, and sing with tayyari, too. But their
sur/swara is not 'wet' or 'soaked' in emotion. Their
singing leaves the rasik dry. Bal Gandharva's 'dayaa
chhaayaa ghe' used to lacerate and melt the rasik's heart
because his swara was soaked in appeal. Singers like him
irrigate the landscape of the listener's mind with
life-giving water of the soaked sur. In any donation,
this 'wet-ness' is very important. That is probably why
the custom of sprinkling water on the coin being given as
'dakshiNaa' (charitable donation) took root. [What an
inspired touch! Typical PuLa! - dn] The wet-ness of it is
a remarkable quality of Anna's swara. Many singers
possess dry jewels of swara. But Anna is blessed with
springs of swara. Those springs are always flowing within
him.
I similarly remember very, very frequently yet another of
his Todi recitals. Keshavrao Bhole had arranged a morning
concert by Anna at his house in Pune. He had invited only
a few, carefully selected friends and warned them that no
guests were allowed. I was waiting near the gate for
Anna's tonga to arrive. The frightening locomotive called
auto-riksha, which forever seems to want to ram into
someone, had not yet made its appearance in Pune. You
could travel only in dheema laya in a tonga and could
leisurely count the maatraas with the horses' hooves. The
tongas used to inspire song even in the mind of dry
people like me. Buwa caught that laya of the tonga and
came as if possessed by Todi. Tanpuras and tabla were
tuned. Keshavrao's planning used to be thorough. He had
enquired how the tanpura should be tuned beforehand
itself. The tanpura players were already settled and
strumming the tanpuras. [Do take this story with a pinch
of salt and a snuff. - dn] Tabalji had regaled himself
with snuff and cigarette. Buwa went straight in, took his
place between the tanpuras, gave a nice swing to shadja,
komal rikhabh-gandhar and got the recital going. No
wasting of words. No usual preliminaries like : 'How are
you? We had last met in Jalgaon. Today brings us together
yet again.' It wasn't Anna who had entered that room but
the personification of Todi itself.
For the next hour or so, Todi reigned in that room. The
cheez was over. The listeners were speechless. Keshavrao
finally broke the long silence and said : 'Buwa, now stop
for fifteen minutes. Let Todi exit this room completely.'
I have heard Anna's singing when he was just twenty-five,
heard it in his forties, and am now hearing it in his
sixties (and my fifties). As the saying goes, 'ghruShTam
ghrushtam chandanam chaarugandham'. (However often you
use it, the sandalwood still smells nice.) Yes indeed!
How beautifully has his singing ripened with advancing
years. The moment tanpuras are tuned, the flow of swara
starts. In mehfils exceeding four hours, the flow is
never ever interrupted. The kaleidoscope of the swaras
assumes ever newer shapes like water in a fountain. His
swara keeps dancing without a break. It continues to
perform prodigies. The power of his tapasya has by now
elevated the water in his swara-fount to the status of
holy teertha.
Anna cares deeply about the grammar of abhijaat sangeet.
Music is a holy subject with him. The titans who
conceived the raagas and the bandishes are like Gods unto
him. But his faith is never blind. His eyes are always
exploring the beauty and the magical possibilities
offered by the established bandishes. When Anna discovers
a facet of a bandish, he feels like a connoisseur of
vintage artefacts may feel when he realises a new,
hitherto unobserved aspect about a statue he has been
studying for long and thinks that the scope of his
knowledge has widened considerably by the discovery.
Kumar Gandharva had once commented about Shuddha Kalyan :
'A great singer must have seen (teevra) madhyam pleading
to be let in while singing Bhoop and he must have decided
to allow the madhyam some room.' Anna is similarly
looking for spots of beauty in a cheez which loiter
behind in a shy manner and he keeps appealing to them to
come forward and enhance the cheez.
My sculptor friend, Sharvari Roychaudhury, is devoted to
Anna. I once visited Dharwad with him. We stayed at
Anna's house only, for a couple of days. Anna presented a
mehfil one day from 4 PM to about half past seven. In the
night, we were chatting on the terrace. Bhaskarbuwa got a
mention. And suddenly, Anna remembered Buwa's (Multani)
cheez 'kavan des gayo' the way one may remember after a
long gap a very dear friend. Anna dissected that cheez
and laid it bare with such warmth of feeling that I
understood that day the real meaning of the hackneyed and
much-abused phrase, 'the love of the swara'.
Anna has fallen so much in love with swara that he
probably can't imagine even a moment's separation from
it. Once we got stuck in a traffic island while crossing
a street in Delhi's Connaught Place. He used the few
moments to show me some difficult-to-observe intricacies
in the bandish 'yeho neend na aaye' (Raag Bihari, a
Mansur favourite). It is difficult to predict which cheez
will take possession of him in which place. And he has
access to a vast repertoire of anavat cheezs. He has
taken Herculean efforts to learn them. Great teachers
blessed him because of his noble faith in the art and
unrelenting perseverance.
Anna is religious. The walls in his drawing room host
photos of the gurus in Lingayat dharma-panth. There are
small statues of Gods, too. But the same walls are
adorned with a photo of Alladiya Khan saheb. Also seen
are his sons, Manji Khan and Bhurji Khan, both of whom
were Anna's gurus. Since music is nothing less than a
religion with him, even these Jaipur titans are his
dharma-gurus. He sees (the darshan of) param-shiva in the
swara bequeathed to him by these gurus. In the evening,
his daughters sing Shiva's stotras. They sing
Basaveshwara's vachanas in melody that flows softly. Anna
has taught them the stotras and the vachanas himself. He
hasn't just taught them pakka sur but has also taken care
that their Sanskrit pronunciation is perfect. This
worshipper of classical music acknowledges the role words
play in lighter music more geared towards the meaning of
words. He makes sure that he has handled the words
carefully when composing tunes for the lighter forms of
music. During his childhood, he used to act in
sangeet-nataks in Kannada. His brother is an able
singer-actor of Kannada stage. I still remember the
occasion when he provided charming vocal-sangat to Anna
in a concert. Anna Kirloskar adopted beautiful Kannada
tunes in Marathi natya-sangeet in 1880s. Later Bal
Gandharva's gayaki made its mark in Karnatak. As a
result, Anna learned how to maintain a balance between
swara, laya and word during his stint on the Kannada
stage. Anna used to enjoy singing Marathi songs as cameo
pieces in his mehfils in Mumbai. Some of his favourite
Marathi songs were 'hii raat savat baa_ii', 'naav chaale
Dule', 'jaa_uu kuThe vanamaaLii' and 'ho_ii baalaa
kaamukaa'. [Many of these songs are available in
Pune-Mumbai area. - dn] He has also composed music for a
few Kannada films. But he has found his true home in
Hindustani Classical Music only.
His initial training was under Pt. Nilkanthbuwa. He
imbibed the samskaras of Gwalior gharana. Gwalior is
Kashi-Varanashi of Hindustani music. It was Pt.
Balkrishnabuwa Ichalkaranjikar who brought it to the
southern state of Maharashtra from its Northern
strongholds. In those days, there were Princely States in
Southern Maharashtra, very near to the Maharashtra -
Karnatak border (meelan-kshetra, as Pu La calls the
border area). The darbars in Miraj, Sangli, Kolhapur,
Ichalkaranji, Kurundwad, Jat, Jamkhindi had singers in
their employ. They used to teach their students and sing
for the Royals. Many great singers had made home in
Southern Maharashtra and North Karnatak. Rahimat Khan
Sahab lived in Kurundwad, Balkrishnabuwa in Miraj,
followed by Abdul Karim Khan Sahab. Kolhapur boasted
Alladiya Khan Sahab, Manji Khan, Bhurji Khan and
Shaligram-buwa. Vazebuwa was in Belgaon, Rambhau Sawai
Gandharva in Kundgol. Bhaskarbuwa lived in Dharwad, as
did the sitariya Rahimat Khan Sahab. And this is just a
list off the top of my head. Among the current famous
singers, Mallikarjun Mansur, Kumar Gandharva, Bhimsen
Joshi, Gangubai Hangal, Basavraj Rajguru - and the newer
promising names Sangameshwar Gurav, Arjunsa Nakhod - are
all from this area. Soil of some areas is truly blessed.
The village named Mansur is near Dharwad. From his
village, Anna moved to Miraj to take taleem from
Nilkanthbuwa. He started presenting concerts in Mumbai
for Music Circles and Ganesh Festivals in his early
twenties. Colossal talents like Master Krishnarao,
Rambhau Sawai Gandharva, Hirabai Badodekar, Mogubai
Kurdikar, Faiyaz Khan Sahab, Vazebuwa, Nisar Hussain
Khan, Vilayat (Hussain) Khan, Kesarbai Kerkar were
towering above the musical landscape of Maharashtra.
Rajabhaiya Puchhwale and Krishnarao Shankar Pandit used
to visit from the North and light up magnificent
chandeliers of the old-style Gwalior gayaki. Mallikarjun
Mansur walked into this Test Team with consummate ease.
It was an age of singers, not ding-dongers. [PuLa's
favourite term of derision for instrumentalists is
tant-kaar. - dn] In those days, we were bewitched by a
singer in Mumbai. That vocalist was Manji Khan, Alladiya
Khan Sahab's gifted son. He was an authority in abhijaat
sangeet. But apart from his mastery over the classical
idiom, he was such an excellent hand at lighter forms of
music that he had come to be treasured by both the
cognoscenti and the uninitiated. His face had an aura
about it. He used to sing with a pleasing expression. His
hands would move in an attractive manner while he sang.
His talk, behaviour, personality were very elegant.
College students in those days used to flock to his
concerts to listen to the light Marathi pieces like
'aikiv tav madhu bol' and Gadkari's famous poem 'Murali'
and used to enjoy even his khayal presentations before
they realised it. One happy day we heard the news that
Mallikarjun Mansur had become a ganda-band shagird of our
beloved Ustad. And we gave daad to that news itself. But
barely after an year or two of this guru-shishya
association, Manji Khan died suddenly at a young age. But
he had handed over the key to the Jaipur treasure to his
disciple. The length in time of the taleem is not the
be-all. An intelligent student needs only to be pointed
in the right direction. It is then upto him to travel
further and educate himself.
Anna was dazzled by the glory of the Jaipur-Atrauli
gayaki. This gayaki doesn't pick issues with the original
Gwalior gayaki. But Anna's swara now started mastering
new forms of laya. Both Gwalior and Atrauli styles use a
natural method of swar-lagaav. Both gharanas carefully
balance the various aspects of music. No particular
aspect is given importance at the cost of others. Anna
grasped this thoroughly and continued his upasana.
Manji Khan's death was a major blow for Anna. But
luckily, Bhurji Khan accepted him as disciple. Bhurji
Khan was an excellent teacher. He could unlock the
correct doors of gayaki for his disciples. Like Manji
Khan, he also took to this shiShya. And Anna's initiation
into the Jaipur parampara could continue without
interruption. Learning gayaki of a gharana must not be
confused with blindly copying guruji's style. That
reminds me. Mallikarjun-ji was once presenting a private
mehfil in Pune. That day he presenting so many bandishes
of anavat raags, drawing liberally for us from his
amazing store, that we were stupefied. A person was
sitting in the front row with an expressionless face like
a Customs Officer. Even in that beautiful world of
concerts - and also at some dramas - some pompous people,
specially prepared by AllahMiyan with extra care, find
their way. They are extremely artificial and mournful.
Anna presented a cheez so beautifully and touched the
upper shadja with such skill that even giving daad would
have done violence to the ambience created. At precisely
that ethereal moment, this graceless person loudly
remarked : "Bade Khan Sahab did not present the antara in
this manner", the implication being that Anna could not
present it properly.
Anna fixed him with a withering stare and told him in his
Kannada-influenced Urdu : "That Bade Miyan did not
present this antara thus is well known to me. But I
present it that way. Am I supposed to be a mere
stenographer of Bade Miyan? Now hear how Bade Miyan used
to present this antara, how my guru Manji Khan Sahab
changed the contours of its presentation and how I have
brought a different interpretation to bear on it." And
then without disturbing its weight, he presented the same
antara in three different styles and reached the sam on
the taar shadja with three different approaches. When an
acknowledged master presents a bandish in his own
distinctive manner, it is not because he does not
remember the phrases used by other artists but because he
wants to use the same kernel to show his artistry and
present various patterns of laya using that bandish. But
that blind adherant of the gharana did not know this
basic fact. And this is where the slavish followers of
gharana gayaki are left behind by an artist who has truly
grasped the spirit behind a style. Manji Khan Sahab
himself did not believe in copying his father. Every
genuine artist has his own personality. He is endowed by
nature with imagination and ability to think new
thoughts. But probably no other field suffers as much
from the confusion and the opposing pulls between
tradition and innovation as our Indian Music.
A singer who has imbibed guru's gayaki invariably reminds
the listener of his pedigree. But is a child supposed to
spend its entire life like the mother because there is a
strong resemblance between their faces? Though a statue
may stir memories of the influences which have shaped it,
shouldn't every great statue carry its very own special
beauty? Else we will have to make do with assembly line
production of Ganesh idols created out of the same mould.
Anna has observed, analysed and assimilated all the best
features of Atrauli gharana's gayaki and then
thoughtfully moulded them in his image. You will never
find any sloppiness in his music. He strives to utilise
every single moment in the laya of his tritaal-jhaptaal
bandishes while doing raag-vistaar. He never ignores the
laya-ang even for a moment in his presentation.
My wife once asked him about the difference between
dhrupad and khayal. He explained the difference in terms
which could be understood even by a casually interested
woman like her. He sang a few old dhrupads and their
adaptation in the khayal genre to demonstrate the
differences in the two styles. Layakari often degenerates
into mere taal-kari and then the badhat becomes
formulaic. The beauty and the feeling are driven out and
mere 'dry calculation' remains behind. Gwalior gayaki did
not disturb the discipline of the original dhrupad
bandishes; but while staying quite loyal to the principle
of laya, it afforded greater scope for the swar-vistar.
The liberties have been allowed by taking into due
consideration both taal and laya. Even the word
mukta-chhand (free fantasia or loose poetic constructs)
does not and should not seek to free itself from
'chhand'. The poem threw away the yoke of the prescribed
metres to avail new freedoms. But the poem cannot free
itself of the obligation to be poetic. It merely sought
little more space to spread itself in so that it could
chart new territory. Both the restrictions and a freedom
to explore beyond some strict rules, if the experiments
be felt fruitful, have to be accepted thoughtfully.
Atrauli singers are to be seen judiciously balancing the
restraints and an impulse to push against the walls. It
cannot be stressed enough that even khayal has a formal
form. And every form brings the restrictions which define
that form. From the samskaras of the Atrauli Gharana,
Anna learnt to experiment without violating the form. His
samskaras make him strive to preserve swaroop of the
raagas. Notes are always employed with exactitude in his
recital. He always begins by delineating the raag-swaroop
with the first few notes whether it is a fuller recital
of 30 minutes or a short presentation of 5 minutes. When
he presents jod raagas like basanti-kedar or
bhairav-bahar, the raagas never seem to have been
inorganically joined. He looks with feelings of awe and
reverence upon the towering rishis among musicians who
first conceived the raag and the bandish being
contemplated by him. And that is why he gets upset with
sloppy singers who just jot down the bandishes on paper
and then present them in mehfils without taking proper
taalim and before they have digested the spirit
underpinning the bandish thoroughly. He insists that it
is wrong to consider a raag internalised if you merely
know its aaroh-avaroh and pakad. He says : 'Not just
every swar but even the very first 'sa' in a recital must
be so dressed as to evoke the raag.'
Such an upasak of sur and laya is he. Whatsoever be
beautiful, whatsoever be holy, worth taking thought over,
worth bowing to with respect, it is to be found only in
the world of music to his mind. He has gladly pitched his
tent in that world as a humble student. He has never been
found wanting in his devotion. And he can't tolerate it
when others are found wanting because they shirk labour.
He doesn't believe in putting half-hearted efforts in the
cause of art. Luckily, his son (Chandra)Shekhar is taking
taalim and coming along nicely. But Anna is unhappy that
he is a Professor and teaches English. He is interested
in English literature. He has good command over that
language. But it interferes in his riyaaz, according to
Anna. He feels Shekhar should avoid any distractions and
devote himself solely to music. He has one more disciple
named Panchakshari Mattigatti. There are some casual
disciples like Bhirdikar from well-to-do families. But it
is Anna's sorrow that he doesn't have even one disciple
who will immerse himself completely in music and pursue
it single-mindedly without being tempted by the glamour
of fame which can be had by taking short-cuts and making
compromises.
Some of us friends visited Dharwad when we heard Anna's
60th birthday was due. After the family welcomed us,
tanpuras were duly tuned. He sang Multani for us. Sang
Shree. Lalita-gauri. Nat. One morning he sang Khat-Todi.
Khat. Shuddha Bilawal. Then Sarang. For three days, the
spring was flowing. During that stay, the local Radio
Kendra arranged a small function in Anna's honour. Anna
delivered a nice speech in Kaanadi (Kannada). I was
inevitably asked to speak a few words. I made only one
point. Believers in God go on teerth-yatra. A believer in
swara like me visits Dharwad in the same spirit. My
pilgrimage is always successful as I get a chance to
bathe in Anna's swar-ganga. I always visit my favourite
singers in the same spirit.
Once somebody asked Anna : "Anna, learning music involves
mighty labour on the musicians' part." Anna immediately
quipped : "Labour? There is no labour involved. It is my
good fortune that I became a singer. There is no labour
in our world - only happiness."
He is not just grateful that he belongs to the wonderful
world of music but fiercely proud about it. Though his
nature is guileless like a child, he is uncompromising
when it comes to music. A few years ago, even well-known
singers used to desire job as advisors and artists in
Radio. In those days, Anna turned down an invitation to
join Radio though he was not doing well financially.
Bhausaheb Dixit (K D Dixit of Pune AIR) had a tough time
in trying to convince him to sing for Radio. But once
he accepted the invitation, he recorded many superb
cheezes for AIR. Anna gives himself without stint in his
mehfils. But he is more happy practising in his small
bungalow in Dharwad. He feels passionately that he should
set up a Peeth (seat) of music in Dharwad and teach
worthy students. He keeps trying to make it happen. But
he doesn't understand the political games. And he is
quite ignorant that VidyaPeeth as an institution has long
since divorced Vidya. He doesn't know that Universities
now employ as teachers those who sell their wisdom for
money. The Professors set question papers for Arts,
Beauty, Culture, et al. They publish guides which supply
read-made answers to the questions. They hold elections
and politicise education. One of these cunning
philistines once torpedoed Anna's valuable proposal for
propogating music. While Anna was once chatting with us,
before starting his recital, someone mentioned the name
of that philistine. Anna snapped : "God forbid! We are
seated near beautifully tuned tanpuras, saheb. Don't even
talk about such corrupt people in this setting. Has he
ever tasted the glory of swara? It is my misfortune that
I had had to interact with him. Forget music, even if he
had pursued the subject which he teaches with genuine
interest, it would have humanised him. What is the
difference between him and a dog?"
That crow had once passed arrogant comments about music
and its pursuit by masters, perched on top of the tin
throne of his official post. Anna spoke about him with
such disgust that we got a glimpse of how the rishis must
have been launching in old times into utterring their
curse. I quietly nodded to the tanpura players to start
strumming. The gunjan of the tanpuras started. And the
atmosphere became pleasant again with the swaras of
Yaman. The Musical Man returned to his happy abode.
Just as the passengers in a ship feel the rest of the
world recede further and further away from them as the
ship moves away from the shore, we could feel the
material world outside that room slowly withdrawing
itself. The uncontaminated world within the room now
contained only the blessed listeners, that man whose very
being is inseparable from music and the mahasagar of Raag
Yaman conjured by him.
==========================================
Ravi Shiroor
ps: wasnt m mansur's son's name rajshekhar? article
seems to say it is chandrashekhar..
naniwadekar
Ravi Shiroor <shi...@hotmail.com> wrote -
>
> ps: wasnt m mansur's son's name rajshekhar? article
> seems to say it is chandrashekhar..
>
Yes, the name is Rajshekhar. The original essay by P L Deshpande
mentions his name twice, once as Chandrashekhar and the other
time as Shekhar.
- dn
Havanur
> Mallikarjun Mansur's name first came to my attention
> thanks to Pu La Deshpande's felicitous pen.
Mallikarjun Mansur had another literateur admirer closer home in
Karnataka. A N Krishnarao, like Pu La, was known by his initials A Na
Kru and was a great fan of Mansur. He too wrote and spoke about
Mansur's music and tried to get him recognition he more than deserved
in the Tamil dominated Bangalore/Mysore regions. While his efforts
were nowhere as successful as those of Pu La, A Na Kru was
instrumental in shaping another aspect of Mallikarjun Mansur's music.
After his rigorous training under members of the Alladiya Khan family,
Mansur had more or less shunned all the "lighter" forms of music.
Before that, as a young vocalist he did indulge in Kannada folk songs
and Natya Sangeet both in Marathi and Kannada. He even composed music
for an early Kannada film. A Na Kru, aware of this background, kept
persuading Mansur to sing Kannada songs, in particular the Vachanas
written by the Lingayat poet-saint-philosophers dating back to the
12th Century. Though a devout Lingayat, Mansur rejected the idea
outright, saying these Vachanas were no good as classical
compositions, they were of "neither cheez nor taal" The story goes
that A Na Kru persevered for years and when all else failed, began
singing them out himself, to show that it could be done. The bait
worked. Mansur tried to correct him, which meant he had to sing the
Vachanas properly himself and in the process realised their musical
value. He tuned a number of Vachanas to different ragas and included
them in his concert repertoire. They were sung with the same unique
combination of grace and intensity that distinguished the rest of his
raagdaari. The result is some of the most beatiful and inspired
devotional music in Kannada such as "andu indu mattondu", "kaaNutta
kaaNutta" and of course the masterpiece "akka keLavva".
One last observation. Unlike his parochial Brahmin counterparts in
HCM, Mansur did not confine himself to compositions from his own
community. He sang Dasara padas quite often and with equal feeling.
This is a trait he shared with the other great Lingayat musician from
Dharwad - Basavaraj Rajguru.
Havanur
Rajan P. Parrikar
>One last observation. Unlike his parochial Brahmin counterparts in
>HCM, Mansur did not confine himself to compositions from his own
>community.
Which Brahmin counterparts did you have in mind? Bhimsen
Joshi, for instance, has sung all manner of poets. In the
"Malkauns" feature you can hear him singing Tukaram's
abhanga (Tuka was born in a Shudra family and faced
Brahminical persecution for expressing his devotion
to Vitthala).
Warm regards,
r
Shree
> HCM, Mansur did not confine himself to compositions from his own
> community. He sang Dasara padas quite often and with equal feeling.
> This is a trait he shared with the other great Lingayat musician from
> Dharwad - Basavaraj Rajguru.
>
> Havanur
Are there any recordings of Mansur singing Dasa Sahitya available
commercially? I have not come across any. (ditto for Bhimsen Joshi
singing Vachanas)
--Shree
naniwadekar
Rajan P. Parrikar <my_las...@spamyahooremove.com> wrote -
Tukaram was a grocer (vaaNii), Namdeo a tailor (shimpii),
Narhari a goldsmith (sonaar), Chokhamela a potter (kumbhar).
What is more, their names are often mentioned with explicit
reference to their caste. (Nama-shimpi, Chokha-kumbhar).
The Warkari sampraday draws from all the castes, including
Brahmins, and shuns no Saint on account of his caste. I don't
know about any Brahmin vocalist who confines himself to
his own community. Many song-writers (including Brahmins
like G D Madgulkar) have emphasized over the past 50 years
how Viththal belongs to all the humanity.
The reverse discrimination is unfortunately being attempted,
though. By tradition, the chants of 'jay jay raam krishna hari'
are followed by 'roop ka abhang', in which the physical beauty
of Viththal is extolled. The most commonly used such abhang
is 'roop paahataa lochanii' by Dnyaneshwar. This is the second
item in Bhimsen's Abhang-wani programmes. But because
Dnyaneshwar was a Brahmin, attempts have been made by
the Maratha lobby to use Tukaram's 'raajas sukumar' or 'saavaLe
sundar roop manohar' as the 'roop ka abhang'. How silly!
Tukaram was devoted to Dnyaneshwar (who preceded him
by more than 300 years). Namdeo was present when D took
samadhi and has written a moving account of the ceremony.
By the way, Tukaram was born a 'kuNabii' and was grocer
by profession. It is true that he has said 'baraa Shudra jhaalo'
(Thank God I was born a Shudra; it spared me the self-shackles
of Brahminical arrogance) but today some kuNabis deny that
the caste is a Shudra. They claim it is a Vaishya caste. FWIW,
they don't get reservations under the SC/ST category (but are
probably covered under the OBC category).
To answer Shree's point, at least one LP and one EP of Bhimsen's
Kannada Abhangs are available with many serious recordists.
Mallikarjun Mansur had composed music for a Kannada Film
named Chandrahaasaa in 1947. The song 'baa baa bayasida
banasiri' by Amirbai Karnataki is a delight. (Lyrics by Nalawadi
Sreekanta Sastry.) He had released records of some light
Marathi items also. Some Hindi songs by Amirbai can be
heard at www.indianscreen.com .
- dn
naniwadekar
I had written -
>
>
> By the way, Tukaram was born a 'kuNabii' and was grocer
> by profession. It is true that he has said 'baraa Shudra jhaalo'
> (Thank God I was born a Shudra; it spared me the self-shackles
> of Brahminical arrogance) but today some kuNabis deny that
>
Correction. (It doesn't alter the thrust of Tukaram's argument.)
The word 'Shudra' doesn't appear in the line I had (mis)quoted.
Tukaram's original words are :
baraa kuNabii jhaalo (or 'kelo' in some versions)
naahii tar dambhechi asato melo
- dn
Havanur
> Are there any recordings of Mansur singing Dasa Sahitya available
> commercially? I have not come across any. (ditto for Bhimsen Joshi
> singing Vachanas)
>
> --Shree
There are no commercial recordings that I know of. For that matter
there are not many of his Vachanas either! I can recall only one EP of
his with Siddharam Jambaldinni. Both he and Rajguru have recorded
Dasara Padas for AIR Dharwad which are regularly broadcast. There is
one posted by Rajan in his Deshkar collection. And of course I have
heard them in live performances.
Question of BJ singing Vachanas hasn't arisen so far.
Havanur
naniwadekar
Havanur <hav...@worldnet.att.net> wrote -
>
>
> Question of BJ singing Vachanas hasn't arisen so far.
>
What is the term for Bhimsen's songs which are called 'Kannada
Abhangs' in Maharashtra? What is the difference between them
and Vachanas? (Is Nachiketa Sharma reading this?)
Rajan has posted one BJ Kannada Abhang in Nand.
There there are others by BJ (please pardon the mistakes) :
Shriniketanaa paalayamma
nannammaa ni bhagyada laxmi baramma
kailaas vaasaa gauriish iishaa
kangaLi jaasako?? kaaverii something ...
kaayo karuNaanidhe
- dn
Nachiketa Sharma
I think the incident referred to here is what is "well known"
in the musical alleys of Dharwad (at least); I have, however,
not come across any printed word in this regard:
When asked why he does not sing vachanas, Bhimsen Joshi is
said to have replied that there are "those others" (referring
to Rajguru, Mansur, et al, who were already renowned Lingayat
artists at that time) who sing vachanas. In addition BJ
is known to have told the questioner to go listen to *them*
if he wanted to listen to vachanas.
(I must add that despite the professional rivalry among them
and occasional stabs at each other in private conversations:-),
BR, MM and BJ had great respect and fondness for each other -
as friends, classmates and musicians.)
Best wishes,
Nachiketa Sharma
Nachiketa Sharma
> Havanur <hav...@worldnet.att.net> wrote -
> >
> >
> > Question of BJ singing Vachanas hasn't arisen so far.
> >
>
> What is the term for Bhimsen's songs which are called 'Kannada
> Abhangs' in Maharashtra? What is the difference between them
> and Vachanas? (Is Nachiketa Sharma reading this?)
Vachanas are, very broadly, offerings by the great exponents
of the Veerashaiva movement (in present-day north Karnataka)
from the 10th-13th centuries AD. Basavanna, Akkamahadevi,
Allamaprabhu are among the best known vachanagAra's. Vachanas
are prose, not poetry, and are relatively difficult to put to
tune; hence you will oftentimes hear words modified, added or
chopped off altogether when vachanas are composed in tune and
sung. All vachanagAra's extolled Lord Shiva. You may be able
to glean more from http://www.lingayat.com.
A pada (roughly equivalent to an abhang in Marathi)
is poetry for the most part, with its rhyme, metre and
chhandas all intact (hence relatively east to put to tune.)
Famous padagAra's are mostly part of the Haridasa movement and
include the head honcho himself - Puranadaradasa - and
Kanakadasa, Vijayavitthaladasa, etc. The dAsa's wrote
mostly about Lord Vishnu and his various avatAras. Purandaradasa
and the others were generally around in the 15th century AD
and later. http://www.madhva.net, http://www.dvaita.org
and http://www.haridasa.org have a lot more information.
> Rajan has posted one BJ Kannada Abhang in Nand.
That would be the classic "enna pAliso karuNakara"
by Shreekrishnadasa.
> There there are others by BJ (please pardon the mistakes) :
> Shriniketanaa paalayamma
"shreenikEtana pAlayamAm" is by Jagannathavitthaladasa.
> nannammaa ni bhagyada laxmi baramma
"bhAgyada lakshmee bArammA" is by Purandaradasa.
> kailaas vaasaa gauriish iishaa
"kailAsa vAsa goureesha eesha" is by Vijayavitthaladasa.
> kangaLi jaasako?? kaaverii something ...
"kangaLiddyAtakO kAveri rangana nODada" is by
Shrirangavitthaladasa.
> kaayo karuNaanidhe
I am not sure at this time who wrote "kAyo karuNAnidhE."
Best wishes,
Nachiketa Sharma
Havanur
I did have Bhimsen Joshi, his legion of disciples and other Brahmin
HCM vocalists in mind. BJ might get singled out because he is the only
one who can be mentioned in the same para as Mansur and Rajguru.
Collectively these musicians simply exclude Vachanas from their
religious fare. Obviously there are Lingayat musicians who do the same
with Dasara padas, but the two illustrious leaders of that pack are
not averse to Dasara padas. It is not that BJ and the rest of the
Brahmins are caste minded as a rule. They sing abhangs written by
Shudras in Marathi with all humility and devotion but when they come
back to Kannada the issues are totally different.
If I may indulge in a bit of amateur sociology, Tukaram, Namdeo and
others were the "good" lower caste poets who overcame the handicaps of
their humble births by the sheer virtue of their devotion to Vitthala.
They were aided by divine interventions from time to time which put
the Brahmins to shame, who were chastised into accepting the noble
Shudras. The devotion to Vitthala is a common tie that binds Tukaram,
his Brahmin persecutors, Purandara and other Dasas of Karnataka and
finally the 21st century Brahmin vocalists. There are no such
devotional ties between Brahmins and Lingayats. The Lingayat movement
was a social rebellion that struck at the foundations of the caste
based Vaidik concept of society. They did not want to rise above their
humble births. Instead they questioned labeling any birth as humble.
The Lingayat poets had no use for the kind of miracles that would make
them acceptable to Brahmins, which was not their career objective in
the first place. They shunned Brahmin deities, developed their own
philosophies and traditions of devotion supported by their Vachanas
written in down to earth, spoken Kannada as against the Sanskritised
Dasara padas.
It is of course foolish to interpret Mansur's or Bhimsen Joshi's
choice of devotional literature as their statements on the centuries
old socio-economic conflict between Lingayats and Brahmins. All that I
see today is two groups of musicians and two volumes of devotional
compositions. The leaders and many followers of the Lingayat group
choose mainly from their own volume but are "broad minded" enough to
pick a piece or two from the other volume and produce good music out
of it. Whereas the Brahmin group and their role model steadfastly
refuse to look beyond their book and lend themselves to the parochial
epithets.
Havanur
Havanur
> Havanur <hav...@worldnet.att.net> wrote -
> >
> >
> > Question of BJ singing Vachanas hasn't arisen so far.
> >
>
> What is the term for Bhimsen's songs which are called 'Kannada
> Abhangs' in Maharashtra? What is the difference between them
> and Vachanas? (Is Nachiketa Sharma reading this?)
>
Kannada abhangs exist only in Maharashtra! In Karnataka there is a
group of poet-saints known as Haridasas. They all belonged to the
Madhwa/Dvaita/Vaishnava community among the Brahmins. So does Bhimsen
Joshi. Their output is referred to as Dasa Sahitya and the songs, also
known as Dasara pada-s, are what BJ sings in Kannada. No exceptions.
The Haridasas were devotees of the Pandharapur Vithoba and the
commonly used format for their signature is the name of the Haridasa
followed by Vitthala, e.g. Purandara Vitthala, Jagannatha Vitthala
etc.
Vachanas were composed by poet-saints belonging to a parallel group
known as Shivasharanas from the Lingayat/Veerashaiva community. Their
compositions are quite different - syntactically as well spiritually.
While Dasara padas follow the standard bhajan syntax, Vachanas are
free flowing and rather resemble the Hindustani cheezes in their
brevity. They gained a level of classical respectability mainly due to
the Lingayat HCMers in 20th century.
Havanur
naniwadekar
Havanur <hav...@worldnet.att.net> wrote -
> >
> The devotion to Vitthala is a common tie that binds Tukaram,
> his Brahmin persecutors, Purandara and other Dasas of Karnataka and
> finally the 21st century Brahmin vocalists. There are no such
> devotional ties between Brahmins and Lingayats.
>
Alas, Tukaram's devotion did not spare him the harassment.
Tukaram's response, at least in spirit, was anything but docile.
More about it some other time.
For now, I just want to add that Vishnu vs Shankar argument
is much less fierce in Maharashtra than in the South. There is a
story about Narhari Sonar's blind hate of Vishnu being cured
by Lord Shankar. But Warkari Sampraday (also called Bhaagwat
Dharma) is remarkably free of rancour against Shiv or Shaivites.
The best thing about it is that though they are Vaishnavites
(being devotees of Viththala), some of their poetry uses Shaiva
terms like Shiv, Sadashiv, Har. If we move further up North,
I don't remember any Vishnu vs Shankar arguments by people
in Hindi speaking states at all.
I don't have first hand experience of Bhagwat Dharma devotees.
In today's riven society, an echo of casteist wranglings is to be
heard even among them, as I have already indicated in a previous
post. But the parampara is one of praising both the Gods and
devotees mostly rise above caste considerations during the long
Waarii (pilgrimage on foot to Pandharpur which takes weeks during
the wretched monsoon months).
Durgabai Bhagwat has quoted a beautiful verse in which Warkari
Sampraday's acceptance of Shiva finds mention. The lines don't
say much and yet are so beautiful. They cast a mysterious holy
spell which owes a lot to the inherent naad associated with the
words. I don't know their author; the lines, quoted in Durgabai's
greatest book - PAIS, require no translation at all.
Mukund Muraarii Pradyumna Keshavaa
Tuuchii Sadaashivaa Shaant-ruupaa
- dn
Shree
I do not know whether one could call these as 'Abangs', for I do not
know the definition of an abhang. I assumed that most abhangs are in
Marathi (as are most ghazals are in Urdu), though I would be
interested know if there are any non-Marathi abhangs.
All the above songs mentioned above are literary/musical pieces
churned out by the Haridasa Sampradaya (obviously Vaishnava). They
are collectively termed as Dasa Sahitya or 'daarsara padagaLu' in
kannada, meaning the songs of Dasas, and propagate the Dwaita
Siddhanta.
The music for all of these have been composed by the authors
themselves, but other musicians, from time to time, have re-tuned the
songs to different melodies. (I have seen many 'orthodox' carnatic
punters taking offence to BJ's re-composition of Purandara dasa's
'bhagyada lakshmi baaramma' into a Vibhas melody from the orginal
Madhyamavati (Madmaadh Saarang?))
Purandaradasa (1480-1564, colophon Purandara Vitthala. Born in
Purandar Gadh, settled down in Vijayanagara (Hampi)) is considered to
be the seniormost of the Trinity of saintly musicians in the Carnatic
tradition.
Others well known Haridasas include :
1) Vyasa Raya (1447-1539, colophon 'Shri Krishna')
2) Raghavendra Thirtha (1623-1671, colophon 'Dheera Venugopala'.
'yati'(sage) of Mantralayam with a huge following)
3) Kanakadasa (1508-1606, colophon 'Kaagineleyaadikeshava',
Neleyaadikeshava'. This one was not a brahmin)
4) Mahipatidasa (1611-1681, colphon 'Mahipati')
5) Vijayadasa (1682-1755, colophon 'Vijaya Vitthala')
6) Jagannathadasa (1728-1809, colphon 'Jagannatha Vitthala')
and the not so well known :
7) HarapanahaLLi Bheemavva (1822-1903, colophon 'Bheemesha Krishna'.
One of the very few ladies among Haridasas.)
Many of them were great vidwans, and have written brilliant academic
treatises on dwaita philosophy, music, logic theory, etc. While most
of them travelled around, some of them were heads of religious
(Brahminical?) institutions (e.g. Vyasa Raya, Raghavendra Thirtha,
Vadiraja).
Side Note on 'kailasa vaasa gowreesha eeshaa, taila dhaareyanthe
manasu kodo hariyalli, shambho' :
I think this is funny, because here, the author Vijayadasa is praising
Shiva, and asking Him to help him fix his mind on Hari 'like a
(steady) stream of oil'.
VACHANAS, ON THE OTHER HAND :
These were literary (not necessarily musical) pieces created by
Shaivaite mystics and philosophers, also called Shiva Sharanas
(striking similarity to the name 'Hari-dasa'?!). Hence Vachana
Sahitya is also sometimes called as Sharana Sahitya. Most of them do
not conform to any poetic metre ('Chchanda').
Well known contributors to the Vachana Sahitya treasure are :
1) Basaveshwara (or Basavanna) (1131-1167, colophon 'Koodala Sangama
deva').
Born into a brahmin family in Bagewadi in Bijapur Dist. of Karnataka,
shunned his brahmin and casteist background and propounded a casteless
society where 'work was worship' ('kayakave kailasa'). He was the
Prime Minister to the Jain king Bijjala of Kalyan (now Basava Kalyan
in northern Karnataka).
The followers of this philosophy are called Veerashaivas or Lingayats
(or Lingavantas, because they worship a Shiva Linga worn on their
body, as opposed to going to a temple ('sthavarakkaLivuntu
jangamakkaLivilla')).
He also set up a philosophical centre ('Anubhava Manatapa') at Kalyan.
2) Mahadevi 'Akka' (or Akka Mahadevi) (colophon - 'Chenna
Mallikarjuna' )
Born in Udutadi, now in Shimoga distrtict of Karnataka. A princess
who shunned worldly life, including clothing, because her husband King
Kaushika was blinded by her beauty and broke her conditions of their
marriage. She followed Meerabai and AndaaL's version of Bhakti, taking
Mallikarjuna (Shiva) of SriShailam to be her consort. Her vachana
('hasivaadode bhikshaanagaLuntu') composed in Bhatiyar (madhyalaya
Teentaal) by Sangameshwara Gurav is one of my favourites.
3) Allama Prabhu (colphon 'Guheshwara')
Mystic of Banavasi, contemparary of Basaveshwara and a stalwart of
Anubhava Mantapa.
4) Chennabasaveshwara
Nephew of Basaveshwara and the second president of Anubhava Mantapa
after the riots in Kalyan that led to the murder of King Bijjala, and
the demise of Basaveshwara.
5) Dohara Kakkaya
A tanner (dohara) by profession, and respected by Basaveshwara and
lovingly called by him as 'Appa' (father). Died at Ulavi in Dharwad
distrtict of Karnataka fighting the army of Bijjala.
6) Hadapada Appanna - A barber (Hadapa) by profession, companion of
Basaveshwara.
7) Siddharama (of Sonnalige, the present day Sholapur)
Folks, please correct me if I am wrong to include Sarvajna to the list
of Vachanakaras. Though he was not a part of the Veerashaiva
movement, his poems in the 'Tripadi' metre are also called Vachanas.
-Shree
Shree
> choice of devotional literature as their statements on the centuries
> old socio-economic conflict between Lingayats and Brahmins. All that I
> see today is two groups of musicians and two volumes of devotional
> compositions. The leaders and many followers of the Lingayat group
> choose mainly from their own volume but are "broad minded" enough to
> pick a piece or two from the other volume and produce good music out
> of it. Whereas the Brahmin group and their role model steadfastly
> refuse to look beyond their book and lend themselves to the parochial
> epithets.
>
> Havanur
I do not see this as a caste conflict or shaiva-vaishnava conflict or
even a religious conflict (What do you say of Bhimsen Joshi singing
'Tu hai mohammed shah darbar'?)
One more possiblity that BJ does not sing Vachanas may be that he
might not be very well acquainted with vachana literature, or simply
not interested in Vachanas. Moreover, Vachanas tend to be not in any
poetic metre, and hence difficult/awkward to set to a rhythm.
There might be a commercial perpective as well. Abhangs are
'saleable', especially in Maharashtra, while vachanas, though quite
popular as literature, are not 'saleable' in music form (or, very few
people attempted it). I make the above statement after comparing
apparent sales of abhang recordings in Maharashtra/Northern Karnataka
with that of vachanas. Kannada is spoken/understood only in Karnataka
and not much elsewhere, even in neighbouring states along the borders
of Karnataka. This would obviously limit the market to any Kannada
music (even films). On the other hand, Kannadigas welcome other
languages openly, (Marathi in northen karnataka, Telugu on the eastern
side, and tamil in the Old Mysore areas), at the expense of Kannada.
My point is, I would not speculate about why BJ does not sing Vachanas
or other singers do not sing Dasa sahitya, until the singers
themselves declare a reason openly. Until then, any guesswork would
just amount to raking 'communal differences'.
--Shree
Shree
Found this on the internet :
http://www.themusicmagazine.com/samyuktavach.html
Though I have not heard this album myself, according to the article
this album apparently has some vachanas sung by Mansur, apart from
others sung by Sangameshwara Gurav, P Sushila, and S Janaki.
--Shree
Ramaprasad K V
> A pada (roughly equivalent to an abhang in Marathi)
> is poetry for the most part, with its rhyme, metre and
> chhandas all intact (hence relatively east to put to tune.)
>
A "dAsara pada" also goes by the name "dEvara nAma" (simply
meaning name of the god) in southern Karnataka.
> > kangaLi jaasako?? kaaverii something ...
>
> "kangaLiddyAtakO kAveri rangana nODada" is by
> Shrirangavitthaladasa.
>
This is by Sripadaraja. His ankita was ranga vitthala.
Even though haridAsas wrote mostlty about vitthala, they have
written a number of padas about other dieties too setting
them apart from vachanakaras who wrote exclusively of Shiva.
Ramaprasad
Havanur
> > kaayo karuNaanidhe
>
> I am not sure at this time who wrote "kAyo karuNAnidhE."
>
Mahipatidasa. The last charana begins with "Guru Mahipati prabhu, anAtha bandhu..."
Havanur
Nachiketa Sharma
> > Havanur <hav...@worldnet.att.net> wrote -
> > >
> > >
> > > Question of BJ singing Vachanas hasn't arisen so far.
> > >
> >
> > What is the term for Bhimsen's songs which are called 'Kannada
> > Abhangs' in Maharashtra? What is the difference between them
> > and Vachanas? (Is Nachiketa Sharma reading this?)
> >
<snip>
> VACHANAS, ON THE OTHER HAND :
> These were literary (not necessarily musical) pieces created by
> Shaivaite mystics and philosophers, also called Shiva Sharanas
> 1) Basaveshwara (or Basavanna) (1131-1167, colophon 'Koodala Sangama
> deva').
> Born into a brahmin family in Bagewadi in Bijapur Dist. of Karnataka,
> shunned his brahmin and casteist background and propounded a casteless
> society where 'work was worship' ('kayakave kailasa'). He was the
> Prime Minister to the Jain king Bijjala of Kalyan (now Basava Kalyan
> in northern Karnataka).
Basavanna actually started as the treasurer (khajAnchi) to
Bijjala and perhaps went on to become the PM.
> 2) Mahadevi 'Akka' (or Akka Mahadevi) (colophon - 'Chenna
> Mallikarjuna' )
> Born in Udutadi, now in Shimoga distrtict of Karnataka. A princess
> who shunned worldly life, including clothing, because her husband King
> Kaushika was blinded by her beauty and broke her conditions of their
> marriage. She followed Meerabai and AndaaL's version of Bhakti, taking
Akkamahadevi existed at least a good 200 years before Meerabai,
so if anything, it was Meerabai who followed Akkamahadevi's version
of bhakti.:-) I am not sure when Andal lived.
> Mallikarjuna (Shiva) of SriShailam to be her consort. Her vachana
> ('hasivaadode bhikshaanagaLuntu') composed in Bhatiyar (madhyalaya
> Teentaal) by Sangameshwara Gurav is one of my favourites.
If I recall correctly, this vachana was composed in Bhatiyar by
Panchakshari Gawai, guru to both Rajguru and Gurav. Later Rajguru
used the same tune for a Basavanna vachana, "chakOrange chandramana
beLagina chinte."
> 3) Allama Prabhu (colphon 'Guheshwara')
> Mystic of Banavasi, contemparary of Basaveshwara and a stalwart of
> Anubhava Mantapa.
> 4) Chennabasaveshwara
> Nephew of Basaveshwara and the second president of Anubhava Mantapa
> after the riots in Kalyan that led to the murder of King Bijjala, and
> the demise of Basaveshwara.
> 5) Dohara Kakkaya
> A tanner (dohara) by profession, and respected by Basaveshwara and
> lovingly called by him as 'Appa' (father). Died at Ulavi in Dharwad
> distrtict of Karnataka fighting the army of Bijjala.
> 6) Hadapada Appanna - A barber (Hadapa) by profession, companion of
> Basaveshwara.
> 7) Siddharama (of Sonnalige, the present day Sholapur)
>
> Folks, please correct me if I am wrong to include Sarvajna to the list
> of Vachanakaras. Though he was not a part of the Veerashaiva
> movement, his poems in the 'Tripadi' metre are also called Vachanas.
>
> -Shree
Best wishes,
Nachiketa Sharma
Havanur
> or other singers do not sing Dasa sahitya, until the singers
> themselves declare a reason openly. Until then, any guesswork would
> just amount to raking 'communal differences'.
>
> --Shree
I agree. I would not question any musician why is he is NOT singing
something or the other. No one has to prove his secular credentials by
singing somebody else's devotional pieces. (For that matter they don't
even have to be secular.) If a musician declares that he will not
choose any sahitya outside his religious beliefs we have to accept it
as such and focus on what he is singing rather than what he is not
singing.
However, my grouse is that the Brahmin musicians collectively seem to
have banned Vachanas from their concerts. I would address them as a
whole about this and not any individual about his preferences. There
are no communal implications here and even if there are, we can ignore
them as irrelevant to this forum. But ultimately they are depriving us
of some innovative music which certainly will result when they apply
themselves to Vachana sahitya. As a listener I do have the right to
complain about that!
Havanur
naniwadekar
Havanur <hav...@worldnet.att.net> wrote -
> >
> I agree. I would not question any musician why is he is NOT singing
> something or the other.
>
>
> There are no communal implications here and even if there are,
> we can ignore > them as irrelevant to this forum.
>
I am not sure that this forum is only about 'music performance'.
And if it is, I would happily go beyond the charter. Music plays
a big role in society. (Currently, the choice of music heard at
the birthday parties and in the marriage halls makes it impossible
for any sane person to spend more than 15 seconds at those
places.) If a big name like Bhimsen makes a gesture by singing
a Vachana, it could do Karnataka a power of good. When he
sings a 'KaanaDi Abhanga' in Maharashtra, it helps towards
national integration, though very few people might know what
the correct term for a Kannada Abhang is.
A disciple of Bhimsen's might not want to hurt his guruji by
singing a Vachana when his guruji frowns upon them. Even if
he did sing a Vachana, the impact would be far lesser than if
the Big One sang one himself. Judging by the evidence presented
in this thread, BJ's refusal to sing Vachanas looks small-minded.
If Lingayats did not write anything praising Vishnu so many centuries
ago, it was probably because as a cornered community, they felt
it would be wrong to make any concession to Brahmins. This
mitigating factor cannot be applied to Bhimsen in these times.
Without, a Hindu is extremely docile. He falls over himself in
his rush to sing 'Allah-Ishwar' songs. But within, he is as small
as he can afford to be. A Vaishnavite having to sing Vachanas!
A Brahmin a Tukaram Abhang!! Horror! Horror!! Allah's songs
are so much the sweeter!
- dn
Shree
> > Rajan has posted one BJ Kannada Abhang in Nand.
>
> That would be the classic "enna pAliso karuNakara"
> by Shreekrishnadasa.
>
'enna paalisO karuNakara' was written by Vyasa Raya. His ankita was
'Shree Krishna'. The lyrics are as follows (trying ITRANS for the
first time):
enna paalisO karuNakara, pannagashayana gadaadhara
vasudEvana.ndana hari madhusuudana, asuraa.ntaka muraLiidhara (*1)
bisaruhanaabha sarvEshane munimaanasa sa.nchaara maadhava
paramapuruSha uragaasana vaahana, karuNaaNa.rva vaDavaanala (*2)
sarasijOdbhava girijaavallabhanuta vara sujanaavaLi paalana
kaavana (kaamana) pita muchaku.nda varada raajiivanayana naaraayaNa
(*3)
shrii vatsalaa.nChana gurumahiipati suta jiivanasakha shrii kriShNa
(*1)BJ sings this as 'dEvakina.ndana..'
(*2)BJ - 'durithaaNa.rva' instead of 'karuNaaNa.rva'
(*3)It sounds weird when BJ breaks up 'raajiivanayana ' and repeats
only 'jiivanayana ' a few times, just because 'jii' falls on the sam.
Otherwise, he sings brilliantly as usual.
Does anyone know the original tune, before BJ tuned it in Raag Nand ?
--Shree
suh...@gmail.com
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RAGbv7uI_5k