by Manish Anand
The demise of Ustad Bismillah Khan must be a great loss. It just can't be compensated. The man enthralled millions, made each Indian proud of him, spoke chaste Hindi, unusual for celebrities, remained mired in typical middle class trifles of cribbling for more and more money, and in the end died, complaining of the state not doing much for him.
Shehnai would miss his lips, the music which brought happiness, and peace amidst all cacophany dished out by the new era of music. Banaras, the city of tradition, would rememeber the worthy son of the soil for ages as the son never disowned the cultural city. Not a music critic, but as a novice I listened to his performances, and spellbound I though that only a magician could get the dead wood pipe to take its audience to the journey of bliss.
The state could never do much for him. He implored former prime minister, Atal Behari Vajpayee, to get some jobs for his sons. He interrupted his recitals with elaborations of his poverty. Sometimes, he sounded a greedy man, asking for his booty for being the custodian of a great art. Awards came his way like his admireres.
But probably, he remained poor because he did not know the art of managing his finance. Nothing unusual as such is case among many middle class Indians. Goddess Luxmy is so chanchal, she cant stay at one place for long. Also, he was affected by not being able to take on the garb of the English speaking as others of his ilk did. So many get maddened by the new crowd of aggressive Indians, pushing themeselves ahead of others all the time.
The next time we hear Sehanai at a marriage function, our hearts would definitely wonder if the great master would again touch the wooden pipes for the sake of humanity. He must!
The demise of Ustad Bismillah Khan must be a great loss. It just can't be compensated. The man enthralled millions, made each Indian proud of him, spoke chaste Hindi, unusual for celebrities, remained mired in typical middle class trifles of cribbling for more and more money, and in the end died, complaining of the state not doing much for him.
Shehnai would miss his lips, the music which brought happiness, and peace amidst all cacophany dished out by the new era of music. Banaras, the city of tradition, would rememeber the worthy son of the soil for ages as the son never disowned the cultural city. Not a music critic, but as a novice I listened to his performances, and spellbound I though that only a magician could get the dead wood pipe to take its audience to the journey of bliss.
The state could never do much for him. He implored former prime minister, Atal Behari Vajpayee, to get some jobs for his sons. He interrupted his recitals with elaborations of his poverty. Sometimes, he sounded a greedy man, asking for his booty for being the custodian of a great art. Awards came his way like his admireres.
But probably, he remained poor because he did not know the art of managing his finance. Nothing unusual as such is case among many middle class Indians. Goddess Luxmy is so chanchal, she cant stay at one place for long. Also, he was affected by not being able to take on the garb of the English speaking as others of his ilk did. So many get maddened by the new crowd of aggressive Indians, pushing themeselves ahead of others all the time.
The next time we hear Sehanai at a marriage function, our hearts would definitely wonder if the great master would again touch the wooden pipes for the sake of humanity. He must!
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