THE SPIRITUAL ROOTS OF INDIAN CLASSICAL MUSIC
- Ramesh Shama Alvar
- October 23rd, 2020
Inayat Khan and his Staff, 1916
In the opening sequence of the film ‘Rasayatra’, a documentary film about his own life, Pandit Mallikarjun Mansur sings a Basaveshwara Vachana or Devotional Song to Lord Shiva at a Temple in Athani, Karnataka, in Rāga Multani. Couched in the majesty of this Rāga, the simple but movingly profound lyrics of the vachana, “I know no rhythm, no melody or metre but only devotion, O Lord. I sing even as you are pleased to direct me ” issue forth from the lips of the great maestro with utter sincerity and humility and with no trace of any dissonance or pretense.
The spiritual quality of Mansur’s singing, quickly envelopes the listener who begins to feel uplifted and moved in a manner that is difficult to explain. Many rasiks of Indian Classical Music have often experienced similar feelings of spiritual bliss, and a heightened nobility of the mind and of the heart, when listening to great Artistes perform.
Snippet: Opening Scene from Rasayatra
Pandit Mallikarjun Mansur sings a Basaveshwara Vachana
Snippet: Opening Scene from Rasayatra
Pandit Mallikarjun Mansur sings a Basaveshwara Vachana
How is it that Indian Classical Music, rising well above the function of entertainment, appeals directly to the Soul? How is that it always draws out the nobler sentiments in us, and provides us, if only for a moment, a glimpse of divinity? Why is it that no matter how often one has previously heard a particular Rāga, one does not feel bored when the same Rāga is sung again by the same Artiste or by a different Artiste? There cannot exist a true lover of our Classical Music who has, at any time, said “Since I have already heard Kāmod sung by Vidushi Hirabai Barodekar, there is no point in listening to the same Rāga being sung by Ustad Latafat Hussain Khan or who may have said, “Oh! I have heard Gaud Malhār many times before, I don’t think I shall enjoy listening to it again.” If there be such a person, then mark him well, for our classical music to him, is no more than light entertainment. The inevitable conclusion is that Indian Classical Music, and indeed all classical music in the world, must contain something that transcends both Kala or Time as well as Prakriti or Matter.
In exploring the spiritual roots of Indian Classical Music, one has to go very far back in time, indeed. The traditions of Indian Classical Music are apparently without beginning. According to Hindu Scriptures, the Divine Art of Music was created by the Holy Trinity of Brahma the Creator, Vishnu the Preserver, and Shiva the Destroyer. The Sanskrit term सन्गीत् ‘Sangeet’ for Music is an ancient word signifying the three-fold art of vocal music, instrumental music, and dance which have been expounded and taught by generations of Rishis. Our musical history, which dates back to the time of the Vedas and the Upanishads, is unique in that the theoretical knowledge of music and the skills of performance have been handed down orally from guru to shishya or pupil in an unbroken chain through generations. When I say ‘orally’, I mean entirely by word of mouth, practical demonstrations and imitation by pupils. These aspects would apply to almost any form of music or dancing in other countries because these are arts that are fundamentally learnt by the eyes and the ears. Then what is so special about Indian Classical Music? What has been the modus operandi of transmission of knowledge and skills in music and dance in the Indian tradition over centuries?
A student learning to sing or play an instrument listens to the Guru delineating a phrase. The student is then made to imitate the Guru who watches and hears the student carefully. The student is often stopped and corrected as and when the Guru feels it necessary. This is done by the Guru, either in his or her words pointing out some aspect of the theory or by actual demonstration by singing or playing of the same phrase. The student is invariably made to repeat the same phrase as often as the Guru might feel it necessary to program the Student with the right software. This process was invariably painful, laborious, and long drawn. It was a vedic inheritance of learning via the Guru-Shishya Parampara. Listen to a snippet of Tālim given by Ustad Sagiruddin Khan to his disciple Begum Shipra Khan in the same Guru-Shishya Parampara of old.
Its rigours and discipline were so severe that the system of instruction separated the students who truly loved classical music from those who had taken a passing fancy to it. The drudgery of interminable repetitions would go on until the ears of the Guru in the case of vocal/instrumental and the eyes in the case of dance, were satisfied that the pupil had imbibed what the Guru felt was just about the right thing. There are true, well-documented stories of legendary musicians who were taught just one Rāga over a period of a year. For instance, Pandit Bhimsen Joshi was made to help with the chores in the house of his Guru, Pandit Sawai Gandharva all day and massage the feet of the Guru at night until the Guru had gone to sleep. According to the ethos of those days, Pandit Bhimsen Joshi did not dare to ask as to when his first lessons would begin. After about a year, when the pupil showed no signs of abandoning the tutelage, Pandit Gandharva decided that the pupil was fit for being imparted the secrets of Hindustani Classical Music.
The teaching of Indian Classical Music could be compared to young Vedic scholars learning to chant passages of the Rk Veda or the Yajurveda correctly with the right pronunciation, accents, emphasis. intervals of silence or elongation. In the old days, just as in the case of vedic studies, aspiring students of Indian Classical Music lived in the homes of their Gurus helping with the daily chores in between breaks in lessons. Whether pupils lived with their Gurus or sent to their own homes at the end of each day, the important thing to be noted was that nothing in writing in the form of scores or other notes was given to any student. Each day, one carried in the Mind and the Heart whatever one had learnt that day. The next day, one had to reproduce whatever one had stored within oneself thus far in one’s tutelage together with what was taught that day. The process went on and on. The depth and complexity of each Rāga was learnt by steady accumulation and consolidation. In this manner, music was learnt, recalled, modified, and stored again and again until a Rāga had become part and parcel of the mind, heart, and body. In the end, the pupil was in a position to reproduce the Rāga in question from the beginning till the end or for hours at a time without any WRITTEN SCORES!!
Indian Classical Music has thrived for hundreds of years without a system of notation. In the past 50 years or so, various musicians and scholarly musicians did attempt to use the western system of notation to regulate and standardize both the teaching and performance of Hindustani Classical Music. They met with little success. There is nothing wrong with the western system of notation which has worked so well for the past 5 centuries or so. It has been so effective and reliable that today, what was composed for instance three hundred years ago can be reproduced with reasonable accuracy by a competent artiste anywhere in the world because you have the original scores and the system of notation to interpret it. Today, a trained Choir can sing a chorus from any Opera pretty much with the same effect as was envisaged by a composer centuries earlier. Is that not wonderful? Then why has a system of written scores and notation not been possible in Indian Classical Music? There are certain interesting reasons.
One problem is that the nature of Indian Classical Music is such that it is far too complicated with ever-changing and subtle variations to be written down as scores. It may be possible to overcome this difficulty given advanced methods of notation. Even so, it would defy interpretation by any system of notation because of its complexity. Another more serious problem with Indian Classical Music is that no matter how hard one may try to follow the score of a Rāga like Miyan Malhār or Darbāri Kānada, the core emotion will not emerge from reproducing the notes of the given scores accurately, no matter how many times. This problem is particularly acute in Hindustani Classical Music which is based almost entirely on emotion and colouring than on order form, harmony, rhythm, and other elements of music.
One can voice the notes of Miyan ki Malhār correctly in the ascending and descending scales or play it on the Sarod or Sitar again and again. It will sound like a collection of notes. The Malhār Group of Rāgas are famous for their reproduction of the ambiance of the monsoon with the dark heavily laden clouds, the cry of the peacocks, the rising wind, the flashes of thunder and lightning, the poignancy of unrequited love and of yearning, of the romance of weather with the Earth, the indescribable aroma or scent of the first raindrops falling on the parched dust of the baked Indo Gangetic plain and the tugging at the heart of the listeners. The Darbāri Kanada is famous for its majesty, grandeur, noble sentiments, heralding the advent of divinity as though gifted to men and women by an act of divine grace. I could compare Rāga Darbari to shades of Beethoven’s 5th or 7th or 9th Symphonies. In the Indian Musical System, such emotions are not built into the scores, if any. They reside in the performer having been put there by the Guru. So the scores will not help. In the Indian Classical Music traditions, there is no way a Rāga can be made to manifest unless the performer digs it out from deep within the Mind and the Heart. If that were to be so, the scores would be redundant for a performer.
One can voice the notes of Miyan ki Malhār correctly in the ascending and descending scales or play it on the Sarod or Sitar again and again. It will sound like a collection of notes. The Malhār Group of Rāgas are famous for their reproduction of the ambiance of the monsoon with the dark heavily laden clouds, the cry of the peacocks, the rising wind, the flashes of thunder and lightning, the poignancy of unrequited love and of yearning, of the romance of weather with the Earth, the indescribable aroma or scent of the first raindrops falling on the parched dust of the baked Indo Gangetic plain and the tugging at the heart of the listeners. The Darbāri Kanada is famous for its majesty, grandeur, noble sentiments, heralding the advent of divinity as though gifted to men and women by an act of divine grace. I could compare Rāga Darbari to shades of Beethoven’s 5th or 7th or 9th Symphonies. In the Indian Musical System, such emotions are not built into the scores, if any. They reside in the performer having been put there by the Guru. So the scores will not help. In the Indian Classical Music traditions, there is no way a Rāga can be made to manifest unless the performer digs it out from deep within the Mind and the Heart. If that were to be so, the scores would be redundant for a performer.
Portrait of a Lady playing the Sitar
by Raja Ravi Varma (1848 – 1906)
Thus, a Rāga has to come up from within, without any conscious effort to read or follow any written notations or efforts to recall the scores. In other words, by listening to the Pandit or the Ustad (Guru) again and again, a Rāga is transferred to the Student over a period of time in the form of a permanent asset residing in the Body. Residing where in the Body? Who knows for sure? It could be in the Mind or the recesses of the psyche or the Heart or in the centers of the Brain designed for storing musical data. Whenever that particular Rāga is required to be aired, the Musician has to go into ध्यानं dhyaanam or meditation and summon it from within himself. Then the Rāga would flow out continuously of its own accord with no need to look at any score or notes. One phrase would lead to another without any conscious thought or will on the part of the performer. It has to be so because the Rāga is an integral whole and no phrase or element can be out of place.
Portrait of a Lady playing the Sitar
by Raja Ravi Varma (1848 – 1906)
Thus, a Rāga has to come up from within, without any conscious effort to read or follow any written notations or efforts to recall the scores. In other words, by listening to the Pandit or the Ustad (Guru) again and again, a Rāga is transferred to the Student over a period of time in the form of a permanent asset residing in the Body. Residing where in the Body? Who knows for sure? It could be in the Mind or the recesses of the psyche or the Heart or in the centers of the Brain designed for storing musical data. Whenever that particular Rāga is required to be aired, the Musician has to go into ध्यानं dhyaanam or meditation and summon it from within himself. Then the Rāga would flow out continuously of its own accord with no need to look at any score or notes. One phrase would lead to another without any conscious thought or will on the part of the performer. It has to be so because the Rāga is an integral whole and no phrase or element can be out of place.
The term ‘orally’ should be noted here. Some written records of our classical music can be found in ancient Sanskrit verses regarding the nature of each Rāga. Such knowledge is helpful but ultimately each Rāga has to be learnt at the feet of a Guru in the traditional manner. If you consider any Rāga being taught by a Guru to a student, words cannot describe how that particular Rāga was summoned up by the Guru, in the first place, from his repertoire and how it was transferred to the student. The transfer of a Rāga from Teacher to the student is a spiritual exercise not amenable to quantitative analysis. Written records of Indian Classical Music may enlighten a student on such useful matters as how, for instance, Megha Malhar was first composed, what are its dominant moods, how it should be sung or played with what notes in the ascending and the descending scales; with what notes accentuated or subdued; with what notes completely avoided or omitted only in one of scales in the ascending or or descending mode as the case may be.
This knowledge is very useful to any scholar of Indian Classical Music for general understanding without a doubt. However, it may surprise Westerners to learn that such written knowledge is actually valueless In Indian Classical as far as actual performance is concerned. In Indian Music, especially in Hindustani Classical Music theoretical knowledge cannot make a Rāga appear out of the lips of the Singer or the Instrumentalist no matter how hard one may try to remember the notes and the injunctions with regard to every note and how diligently one may apply it in practice.
This knowledge is very useful to any scholar of Indian Classical Music for general understanding without a doubt. However, it may surprise Westerners to learn that such written knowledge is actually valueless In Indian Classical as far as actual performance is concerned. In Indian Music, especially in Hindustani Classical Music theoretical knowledge cannot make a Rāga appear out of the lips of the Singer or the Instrumentalist no matter how hard one may try to remember the notes and the injunctions with regard to every note and how diligently one may apply it in practice.
As stated earlier, I would like to repeat that the problem with Indian Classical Music is that the notes themselves voiced or played meticulously according to the score sheet or the Book will not produce the essence of the central melody or the mood of those notes in that laid down permutation or combination. Listeners may hear a succession of pleasant notes but they will not feel any emotion. They will not be able to themselves feel the core mood of the song or relate it to anything experienced in the past. That is why Indian Classical Music cannot be learnt by self-study through books or written scores. What then? We will come to this a little later. Another difference between Indian Classical Music and Western Classical Music is that when any work is played, the audience and the critics applaud the Composer more than the Members of the Orchestra and the Soloist.
The heart-breaking practice sessions, the pain and the tension suffered on the road to that performance pales in front of the genius of the Composer. In Indian Classical Music, after every good performance, the Sage who composed the Rāga hundreds of years ago is seldom recalled and eulogised by listeners, many of whom would not be aware of the composer. The artiste alone is invariably praised and given due credit. It is like a Mozart Piano Concerto being applauded because of the virtuoso skills of Rubinstein rather than that of Mozart.
In Indian Music, each time the same Rāga is aired by the same artiste or by a different artiste, it is considered as being equivalent to a new composition, or a new way of invoking the same Deity of the same Rāga based on the superstructure built by the mantras laid down by the original composer of the Rāga hundreds of years ago. How shall I put it? In Western Classical Music, a cadenza may be an improvised or written-out ornamental passage played or sung by a soloist or soloists. It is performed usually in a “free” rhythmic style. The whole aim behind a cadenza is to allow the soloist ample scope to display his or her virtuosity.
In Indian Music, each time the same Rāga is aired by the same artiste or by a different artiste, it is considered as being equivalent to a new composition, or a new way of invoking the same Deity of the same Rāga based on the superstructure built by the mantras laid down by the original composer of the Rāga hundreds of years ago. How shall I put it? In Western Classical Music, a cadenza may be an improvised or written-out ornamental passage played or sung by a soloist or soloists. It is performed usually in a “free” rhythmic style. The whole aim behind a cadenza is to allow the soloist ample scope to display his or her virtuosity.
Surprisingly enough, Hindustani Classical Music is based on the central idea of the western classical cadenza which was designed to provide the virtuoso a field for the unfettered expression of virtuosity. But Hindustani Music did not borrow the cadenza from any source. It developed naturally as one big ‘cadenza’. The composers of every Rāga left a unique legacy of melody for all musicians to improvise from start to finish and for listeners to enjoy the endless virtuoso improvisations by the same artiste performing the same Melody on different occasions or different melodies by different Artistes. If not, the performance would be a disaster. Hindustani Classical Music has evolved as a musical level playing field only for the soloists.
Hindustani Classical Music has evolved as a musical level playing field only for the soloists. Each Rāga was composed to provide soloists with ample scope to display their virtuosity. There was nothing in Indian Classical Music like orchestral music with a number of voices and instruments to be regulated and harmonized. If you were to sit down to listen to a Rāga being performed by a vocalist or an instrumentalist such as a sitar or sarod player, for instance, the only element of music you should look out for would be the melody or the mood or the colour of that central emotion. Listen to a snippet of Ustad Khadim Hussain Khan talking to a gathering of scholars, performers, and lovers of Hindustani Classical Music at the University of Bombay, January 1979.
You need not worry about the rhythm in Hindustani Music. It is inbuilt, falling curiously by itself, in the course of the music. It is very sensitive to the outside imposition of rhythm. There is latitude in rhythm and the percussionist often makes slight adjustments to precisely match the soloist’s interpretation of rhythm. You need not watch out for other elements of music such as the dynamics or harmony of orchestral music with many instruments and perhaps voices. Do not bother about the textural aspects of orchestras or a chorus of voices such as polyphony or counterpoint. They will not be found since it is a solo performance from start to finish. Look for colour mostly.
With these remarks on the general nature of Indian Classical Music, especially Hindustani Classical Music, let us now turn our attention to the spiritual roots of Indian Classical Music which date back to the Vedas. Vedic literature abounds in references to various kinds of musical instruments, drums, dances, and songs and to Vedic music itself. Vedic chants or ‘saamans’ set to different melodies, especially those of the Saama Veda: were collectively known as ‘Saama Gana’. Saama Gana had different notes, registers, meters, and composition. When the sounds of the human voices are in the air, what link could it have with the rest of the Universe around it? The Candogya Upanishad [Adhyaya 1/Mantra 2 ] says:
एषा भूतानां पृथिवी रसः पृथिव्या अपो रसः
अपामोषधयो रस ओषधीनां पुरुषो रसः
पुरुषस्य वाग्रसो वाच ऋग्रस ऋचः साम रसः
साम्न उद्गीथो रसः ॥ २ ॥
एषा भूतानां पृथिवी रसः पृथिव्या अपो रसः
अपामोषधयो रस ओषधीनां पुरुषो रसः
पुरुषस्य वाग्रसो वाच ऋग्रस ऋचः साम रसः
साम्न उद्गीथो रसः ॥ २ ॥
एषा eshā – of all these objects & creatures; भूतानां bhūtānām – of beings; पृथिवी prithvī – the Earth; रसः rasah-is the essence; पृथिव्या prithivyā-of the Earth; अपो āpah-water; रसः rasah-is the essence अपाम् apām-of water; ओषधयो oshadhyo – plants & herbs; रसः rasah – is the essence; ओषधीनां oshadhinaam – of the plants & herbs; पुरुषो purusho – the human being; रसः rasah – is the essence; पुरुषस्य purushasya – of the Purusha; वाक् vaak -speech or the vocal organ; रसः rasah – is the essence; वाच vaaca – of speech; ऋग Rk – the Rig Veda Mantra; रसः rasah-is the essence; ऋचः rcaha – of the Rk Mantras; साम sāma – the Sama Veda mantras; रसः rasah – is the essence; साम्न sāmna – of the Sama Veda Mantras; उद्गीथो udgītho – the Udgita or the AUM; रसः rasah – is the essence ॥ २॥
एषा eshā – of all these objects & creatures; भूतानां bhūtānām – of beings; पृथिवी prithvī – the Earth; रसः rasah-is the essence; पृथिव्या prithivyā-of the Earth; अपो āpah-water; रसः rasah-is the essence अपाम् apām-of water; ओषधयो oshadhyo – plants & herbs; रसः rasah – is the essence; ओषधीनां oshadhinaam – of the plants & herbs; पुरुषो purusho – the human being; रसः rasah – is the essence; पुरुषस्य purushasya – of the Purusha; वाक् vaak -speech or the vocal organ; रसः rasah – is the essence; वाच vaaca – of speech; ऋग Rk – the Rig Veda Mantra; रसः rasah-is the essence; ऋचः rcaha – of the Rk Mantras; साम sāma – the Sama Veda mantras; रसः rasah – is the essence; साम्न sāmna – of the Sama Veda Mantras; उद्गीथो udgītho – the Udgita or the AUM; रसः rasah – is the essence ॥ २॥
“Of all these objects and beings, the Earth is the essence; of the Earth, water is the essence; of water, plants & herbs are the essence; of the herbs, the human body is the essence; of the human body, (the organ of) speech is the essence; of speech, Rk is the essence; of the Rk-mantras, the Samamantras are the essence; of the Sarna-mantras, Udgitha is the essence.” II2II
What is Udgita? The Candogya [Adhyaya 1/Mantra 3 ] says:
स एष रसानाँरसतमः परमः परार्ध्योऽष्टमो यदुद्गीथः ॥ ३ ॥
स एष रसानाँरसतमः परमः परार्ध्योऽष्टमो यदुद्गीथः ॥ ३ ॥
स sa – that; एष ehsa – the Udgita (referred to earlier); रसानाँ rasānam – of all the essences; रसतमः rasatamah-is the essence; परमः paramah – the highest; परार्ध्यो parārdhyo – to be worshipped as the supreme/highest; अष्टमो ashtamo – the eight; यदुद्गीथः udgithah – the Udgita or the AUM॥ ३ ॥
स sa – that; एष ehsa – the Udgita (referred to earlier); रसानाँ rasānam – of all the essences; रसतमः rasatamah-is the essence; परमः paramah – the highest; परार्ध्यो parārdhyo – to be worshipped as the supreme/highest; अष्टमो ashtamo – the eight; यदुद्गीथः udgithah – the Udgita or the AUM॥ ३ ॥
“That which is this Udgitha or AUM, is the essence of all essences, is supreme, is competent for the highest place, (and) is eighth in the series.” II3II
“That which is this Udgitha or AUM, is the essence of all essences, is supreme, is competent for the highest place, (and) is eighth in the series.” II3II
These Mantras declare that ultimately everything in the Universe has a link with the Primordial Sound of AUM. Ancient Indian Scriptures refer to two types of fundamental sounds. One is called the ‘Anāhata Nāda’ or the sound not originating from any physical cause. The other is the ‘Ahata Nāda’ or sound created from some physical source such as the vibrations set into motion by the plucking of a sitar string or the beating of the Tabala. The Ahata Nāda lasts so long as the vibrations continue to be produced. It begins to die down as the vibrations diminish in intensity and cease when the vibrations stop. On the other hand, the Anāhata Nada is described as the all-pervading, eternal sound of the Cosmos, ever-present, and unchanging. Yogis strive to hear this Nada from within but are able to do so only after years of meditation, tapas, and discipline in Yoga. In the sound of AUM, the Anāhata Nada is to be found. When a Yogi is able to hear the Anāhata Nada in himself, it may be said that his Self is vibrating in harmony with the Universe and with the Para Brahman himself. Similarly, if a musician finds that the sounds produced by the vocal chords or the instrument being played are in resonance with AUM, the link between Ahata and Anāhata sounds has been established by the music. This link, once established and made manifest, gives greater pleasure and spiritual satisfaction to listeners than otherwise.
The ability to perceive and enjoy music appears to be an inborn human trait according to some eminent neurobiologists. While many animals use complex sounds for specific purposes such as recognition, mating calls, danger signals, etc, human beings have developed the richest musical repertories of any species. But the exact mechanism by which appreciation of music takes place in the brain is still a great mystery though scientists have detected specialized circuits in the brain thought to be used for decoding aspects of both speech and music. It appears that in the right hemisphere of the human brain, there are some regions that exclusively serve musical perception. Does it mean that the elevation of spirit and the feelings of divinity one gets when listening to, say someone like Pandit Omkarnath Thakur or Ustad Faiyaz Khan are the end products of mere biological and electrical processes? I think not. I hold that the spiritual basis of music goes beyond matter in any form.
[1918-2014]
Pandit Batuk Diwanji was a veteran music critic, author, connoisseur, and collector of compositions and recordings. He was a great raconteur too with an impressive collection of precious authentic anecdotes that were a source of knowledge and inspiration to friends, researchers, and music lovers. Many famous Hindustani Classical Musicians were on intimate terms with him and held him in esteem. They would now and then take his name in public performances referring to a phrase or a mode of the raga in the ascent or the descent, which Pandit Dewanji was fond of. He was widely revered by artists and rasiks or connoisseurs alike. Ustad Latafat Hussain Khan was one of the most popular and charismatic singers of the Agar Gharana after
Ustad Faiyaz Khan. He had a very high regard for Pandit Dewanji as a connoisseur and scholar of Hindustani Classical Music. Here is a snippet of Jaijaiwanti and Sur Malhar. In the latter part, Ustad Latafat Hussain Khan takes Pandit Dewanji’s name twice in the same concert.
[1918-2014]
Pandit Batuk Diwanji was a veteran music critic, author, connoisseur, and collector of compositions and recordings. He was a great raconteur too with an impressive collection of precious authentic anecdotes that were a source of knowledge and inspiration to friends, researchers, and music lovers. Many famous Hindustani Classical Musicians were on intimate terms with him and held him in esteem. They would now and then take his name in public performances referring to a phrase or a mode of the raga in the ascent or the descent, which Pandit Dewanji was fond of. He was widely revered by artists and rasiks or connoisseurs alike. Ustad Latafat Hussain Khan was one of the most popular and charismatic singers of the Agar Gharana after Ustad Faiyaz Khan. He had a very high regard for Pandit Dewanji as a connoisseur and scholar of Hindustani Classical Music. Here is a snippet of Sur Malhar in which Ustad Latafat Hussain Khan takes Pandit Dewanji’s name twice in the same concert.
Pandit Dewanji was my good friend and guide in Hindustani Classical Music. He would often come down to Bangalore to attend concerts and sometimes stayed with me. On one such occasion, he showed me a copy of the article in the ‘Independent’ in Dec 92, written by him on Pandit Omkarnath’s 23rd Death Anniversary. Pandit Batuk Dewanji had mentioned therein that Omkarnathji would often tell his audience that, “Raagas and Raaginis are not mere forms, not mere aroha (ascending scale) and avroha (descending scales). They are Gods and Goddesses, or divinities if you like, with a finely nuanced form, clearly defined personalities, and a precise emotional makeup.” Pandit Dewanji believed that unless the musician invoked a Rāga with the proper incantations of the prescribed shlokas of notes and libations of devotion as done in a Homa or Vedic Sacrificial Rite, the chances of that the Presiding Deity of the particular Rāga would appear in person on the stage could be bleak. In that case, the music would have to go on with its core melody or emotion missing. In Hindustani Classical, the mere utterance of the prescribed scales will not produce the mood of the Rāga and all the emotions it is capable of generating.
The emotions and colouring by which each Rāga is well known is eagerly awaited by the audience at the start of each performance if the name of the Rāga is announced in advance. If not, listeners often derive delight in identifying the Rāga after the airing of the first few bars provided the Presiding Deity of the Rāga has actually graced the performance. If not, listeners would become frustrated that no known Rāga has arrived even after several passages of the music have been aired. This is a nightmare scenario for the connoisseurs of Hindustani Classical Music.
Pandit Mallikarjun Mansur was a good friend of my father at Dharwad, Karnataka, India. I got hooked onto Hindustani Classical Music when I was about 10 years old because my Father, Prof M.A. Shama Iyengar, would force me to attend the all-night concerts of Pandit Mansur at Dharwad or Hubli. His concerts would generally start at about 9 pm and go on till 6.30 am the next morning. Several rounds of strong tea or sherbet would be served throughout the night. I slept through the first two of his concerts. But during the third, my father found me awake and responding.
[1910-1992]
Pandit Mallikarjun Mansur was a good friend of my father at Dharwad, Karnataka, India. I got hooked onto Hindustani Classical Music when I was about 10 years old because my Father, Prof M.A. Shama Iyengar, would force me to attend the all-night concerts of Pandit Mansur at Dharwad or Hubli. His concerts would generally start at about 9 pm and go on till 6.30 am the next morning. Several rounds of strong tea or sherbet would be served throughout the night. I slept through the first two of his concerts. But during the third, my father found me awake and responding.
[1910-1992]
Prof M.A. Shama Iyengar [1898-1970]
My father leaned over and told me, “My work is done.” He wanted me to develop a taste for Hindustani Music and he felt that had achieved his mission. Indeed he had for I have not looked back since. My love for Hindustani Classical Music has grown steadily for the past 60 years, I think. So has my abiding love for Western Classical Music.
It is impossible to say how I developed a great liking for these two different forms of classical music. Perhaps, the software had already been embedded in my genes, or perhaps, it was due to Father Phillip Soares SJ of St Joseph’s High School, Dharwad, who used to compel us to listen to the Piano and his exposition of insights into Western Classical Music when my elder brother and I were kids. I cannot say for sure. It could also have been due to the intrinsic spiritual nature of Western Classical Music. Allow me to explain.
Prof M.A. Shama Iyengar
[1898-1970]
My father leaned over and told me, “My work is done.” He wanted me to develop a taste for Hindustani Music and he felt that had achieved his mission. Indeed he had for I have not looked back since. My love for Hindustani Classical Music has grown steadily for the past 60 years, I think. So has my abiding love for Western Classical Music.
It is impossible to say how I developed a great liking for these two different forms of classical music. Perhaps, the software had already been embedded in my genes, or perhaps, it was due to Father Phillip Soares SJ of St Joseph’s High School, Dharwad, who used to compel us to listen to the Piano and his exposition of insights into Western Classical Music when my elder brother and I were kids. I cannot say for sure. It could also have been due to the intrinsic spiritual nature of Western Classical Music. Allow me to explain.
I may have inadvertently left the impression in the minds of the passionate admirers of Indian Classical Music or in those of Western Classical Music that, of all forms of great Music, Hindustani Classical alone is spiritual in nature. That is not so. Western Classical Music is just as spiritual and non-materialistic in content than Indian Classical, if not more. All music is spiritual inherently for it is to be experienced more in the heart than in the brain. But I can only compare the two great streams of great Classical Music, I have dearly loved for over 60 years at least.
Over the years, in our long association, my dear elder brother Prof. M.S. Alvar and I had many sessions of listening to Western Classical Music. Of the works of composers listened to by us repeatedly, I am afraid, 85% were those of Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart. Why so? I cannot say. Our selection was involuntary. Our attraction was beyond our will to resist. While listening, my brother often drew my attention to different aspects of western classical music by pointing out some feature or the other such as syncopation in rhythm; or of the dynamics such as the crescendo. He often urged me not to look for just melody or listening pleasure but to watch out for the pitch, or the theme and whether I could discern the conjunct element therein. Above all, my brother extolled the feature of harmony in Western Classical Music pointing out the singular chord or progression. He wanted me to pick up elements of harmony such as consonance or dissonance. Could I recognize the key? What was the tonality like or was it atonal? Often, he would comment, as though speaking to himself about the tone and texture. Earlier, I used to listen to Western Classical as I did Hindustani Classical sitting back to enjoy the melody and letting the mood or the colour take over my mind and heart. My point is that the listening pleasure to be derived from Western Classical comes from the ability to recognize and differentiate between many elements other than melody or mood.
Prof M.S. Alvar took exclusively to Western Classical Music from his school days. Listening to many western classical works critically with him over four to five decades at least, I realized that the genius of Western Classical Music was based on the western mind that had a propensity to act in concert with each member of the organisation showing the ability to bend his her will for the common goal. By the term ‘bending the will’, I mean controlling the innate urge to be individualistic in expression. That is why an orchestra or an ensemble can reproduce the essence of the composition today with the same accuracy as it might have been in the composers’ minds hundreds of years ago. Madhav Bhai often stressed on the marvellous harmonisation of many individual voices in Western Classical works. Each instrument or vocalist was an individual voice whether there were two singers or three violins or five violas, ten winds, and so on.
The composition of any western classical piece is exceedingly difficult. Its secrets are not known even today. It is almost impossible to compose a work that will last the test of time and retain its adherents or admirers in every age since its origin. There have been over 40,000 composers since the days of Bach. A small percentage of these are heard again and again. Who was the greatest of the Western Composers? To give my answer, I have to quote the following extract at some length. I beg of the Reader’s indulgence as I cannot frame my answer in terms remotely approaching that of Cardus. It is essential that this extract is fully read by the dear Reader as it has a bearing on the Spiritual Roots of all Classical Music.
I may have inadvertently left the impression in the minds of the passionate admirers of Indian Classical Music or in those of Western Classical Music that, of all forms of great Music, Hindustani Classical alone is spiritual in nature. That is not so. Western Classical Music is just as spiritual and non-materialistic in content than Indian Classical, if not more. All music is spiritual inherently for it is to be experienced more in the heart than in the brain. But I can only compare the two great streams of great Classical Music, I have dearly loved for over 60 years at least.
Over the years, in our long association, my dear elder brother Prof. M.S. Alvar and I had many sessions of listening to Western Classical Music. Of the works of composers listened to by us repeatedly, I am afraid, 85% were those of Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart. Why so? I cannot say. Our selection was involuntary. Our attraction was beyond our will to resist. While listening, my brother often drew my attention to different aspects of western classical music by pointing out some feature or the other such as syncopation in rhythm; or of the dynamics such as the crescendo. He often urged me not to look for just melody or listening pleasure but to watch out for the pitch, or the theme and whether I could discern the conjunct element therein. Above all, my brother extolled the feature of harmony in Western Classical Music pointing out the singular chord or progression. He wanted me to pick up elements of harmony such as consonance or dissonance. Could I recognize the key? What was the tonality like or was it atonal? Often, he would comment, as though speaking to himself about the tone and texture. Earlier, I used to listen to Western Classical as I did Hindustani Classical sitting back to enjoy the melody and letting the mood or the colour take over my mind and heart. My point is that the listening pleasure to be derived from Western Classical comes from the ability to recognize and differentiate between many elements other than melody or mood.
Prof M.S. Alvar took exclusively to Western Classical Music from his school days. Listening to many western classical works critically with him over four to five decades at least, I realized that the genius of Western Classical Music was based on the western mind that had a propensity to act in concert with each member of the organisation showing the ability to bend his her will for the common goal. By the term ‘bending the will’, I mean controlling the innate urge to be individualistic in expression. That is why an orchestra or an ensemble can reproduce the essence of the composition today with the same accuracy as it might have been in the composers’ minds hundreds of years ago. Madhav Bhai often stressed on the marvellous harmonisation of many individual voices in Western Classical works. Each instrument or vocalist was an individual voice whether there were two singers or three violins or five violas, ten winds, and so on.
The composition of any western classical piece is exceedingly difficult. Its secrets are not known even today. It is almost impossible to compose a work that will last the test of time and retain its adherents or admirers in every age since its origin. There have been over 40,000 composers since the days of Bach. A small percentage of these are heard again and again. Who was the greatest of the Western Composers? To give my answer, I have to quote the following extract at some length. I beg of the Reader’s indulgence as I cannot frame my answer in terms remotely approaching that of Cardus. It is essential that this extract is fully read by the dear Reader as it has a bearing on the Spiritual Roots of all Classical Music.
In the chapter “Mozart the Unparalleled”, Talking of Music, MacMillan Neville Cardus writes:
“Over two hundred years ago Mozart was born at Salzburg on 27th January. His star was temporarily obscured by the post-Beethoven Wagnerian aesthetic, dramatical-symphonical, quasi-symphonical, heroical-ethical and pastoral, the aesthetic of the fertilisation of music by drama. But to-day it shines more luminously, certainly more constantly than any other in the sky. Hans Richter was once asked to name the composer who, in his opinion was the greatest of them all. Without hesitation he said, “Beethoven, undoubtedly.” The questioner expressed surprise at a reply so positive. “Undoubtedly, Herr Doktor? But I thought you might have considered Mozart.” “Oh,” replied Richter, “I didn’t understand that you were bringing Mozart into the argument; I thought you were referring to the rest.”
Less than half a century ago, in fact in the lifetime of many of us not yet tottering, Mozart’s position in musical history had once and for all been established by the authorities as “classical”; he was almost docketed a “period” composer, plus genius, a genius no doubt having gifts towards drama as well as for the strictly musical forms, but born as an opera composer perhaps too soon; for not yet had the expressive and plastic technique of music-drama been brought under control… Mozart was, Shaw admits, with an insight uncanny half a century ago, that Mozart was a dramatist comparable to Moliere. I shall try to show presently that as a dramatist he, in his own art, went beyond Moliere.
The great miracle of his achievements, most of them a separate miracle, is that though bound to his period’s “absolute” patterns of music, undramatically shaped, he composed opera which in 1957 we can see, now that the Wagnerian mists are clearing and we can dwell on other peaks in the range, as unparalleled for breadth of characterisation in all phases of human activity, from the ridiculous to the sublime, from Papageno to Sarastro, from the comedic to the pathetic, from Figaro to the Countess, from the roguepicaresque to the traditional romantic seducer, from Leporello to Don Giovanni. He can embody in a melody which an infant can sing the vivacity of a Zerlina, or the awakening ardours of the boy Cherubino. By a few chords in the trombones Mozart can evoke the shape and presence of the majestically spectral; in simple notes for a bass singer, almost displaying the lowest spectacularly, he wrote for Sarastro the only music which, as Shaw said, we might decently conceive coming out of the mouth of God.”
“Over two hundred years ago Mozart was born at Salzburg on 27th January. His star was temporarily obscured by the post-Beethoven Wagnerian aesthetic, dramatical-symphonical, quasi-symphonical, heroical-ethical and pastoral, the aesthetic of the fertilisation of music by drama. But to-day it shines more luminously, certainly more constantly than any other in the sky. Hans Richter was once asked to name the composer who, in his opinion was the greatest of them all. Without hesitation he said, “Beethoven, undoubtedly.” The questioner expressed surprise at a reply so positive. “Undoubtedly, Herr Doktor? But I thought you might have considered Mozart.” “Oh,” replied Richter, “I didn’t understand that you were bringing Mozart into the argument; I thought you were referring to the rest.”
Less than half a century ago, in fact in the lifetime of many of us not yet tottering, Mozart’s position in musical history had once and for all been established by the authorities as “classical”; he was almost docketed a “period” composer, plus genius, a genius no doubt having gifts towards drama as well as for the strictly musical forms, but born as an opera composer perhaps too soon; for not yet had the expressive and plastic technique of music-drama been brought under control… Mozart was, Shaw admits, with an insight uncanny half a century ago, that Mozart was a dramatist comparable to Moliere. I shall try to show presently that as a dramatist he, in his own art, went beyond Moliere.
The great miracle of his achievements, most of them a separate miracle, is that though bound to his period’s “absolute” patterns of music, undramatically shaped, he composed opera which in 1957 we can see, now that the Wagnerian mists are clearing and we can dwell on other peaks in the range, as unparalleled for breadth of characterisation in all phases of human activity, from the ridiculous to the sublime, from Papageno to Sarastro, from the comedic to the pathetic, from Figaro to the Countess, from the roguepicaresque to the traditional romantic seducer, from Leporello to Don Giovanni. He can embody in a melody which an infant can sing the vivacity of a Zerlina, or the awakening ardours of the boy Cherubino. By a few chords in the trombones Mozart can evoke the shape and presence of the majestically spectral; in simple notes for a bass singer, almost displaying the lowest spectacularly, he wrote for Sarastro the only music which, as Shaw said, we might decently conceive coming out of the mouth of God.”
Mozart had this great and absolutely unparalleled genius to combine different voices like the strings with the winds; the human voice with the instruments, and so on. Please listen to the following five different snippets (courtesy of Prof. M.S. Alvar):-
A decade or so before his death in 1970, my father narrated what Pandit Mansur had revealed to him many years earlier, about the circumstances under which Pandit Mansur happened to acquire the Guru he had been searching for a long time. This is what my Dad told me – “After the death of his first Guru Pandit Neelkantha Buwa, Pandit Mansur had felt rudderless and desperately searched for someone who could guide him and give a meaningful direction to his overflowing talent.” He approached Pandit Ramakrishna Bua Vaze but did not get precisely what he had been seeking. He then happened to hear Ustad Manji Khan, the eldest son of the great Ustad Alladiya Khan, the grandmaster of the Jaipur-Atrauli Gharana.
My Elder Brother Prof M.S. Alvar, Myself, Our Dad, Sholapur 1949
A decade or so before his death in 1970, my father narrated what Pandit Mansur had revealed to him many years earlier, about the circumstances under which Pandit Mansur happened to acquire the Guru he had been searching for a long time. This is what my Dad told me – “After the death of his first Guru Pandit Neelkantha Buwa, Pandit Mansur had felt rudderless and desperately searched for someone who could guide him and give a meaningful direction to his overflowing talent.” He approached Pandit Ramakrishna Bua Vaze but did not get precisely what he had been seeking. He then happened to hear Ustad Manji Khan, the eldest son of the great Ustad Alladiya Khan, the grandmaster of the Jaipur-Atrauli Gharana.
Ustad Manji Khan’s singing simply overwhelmed the young Mansur. In later years, recalling his feelings on that first occasion, he said, “I felt I had been listening to something which had existed long before Khan Saheb and would continue to exist long after him, probably into eternity.” The timeless spiritual quality of our Indian Classical Music is amply illustrated by this incident. It is as if there is something in Indian Classical Music that transmigrates from one voice to the other even as the Jiva moves from one body to the next. Pandit Mansur often felt this spiritual element intensely. He used to remark, “When I sing, I move away from worldliness into another plane.” He stubbornly refused the temptation to become more popular and consistently maintained the purity of his music as learnt from his Gurus.
Ustad Manji Khan’s singing simply overwhelmed the young Mansur. In later years, recalling his feelings on that first occasion, he said, “I felt I had been listening to something which had existed long before Khan Saheb and would continue to exist long after him, probably into eternity.” The timeless spiritual quality of our Indian Classical Music is amply illustrated by this incident. It is as if there is something in Indian Classical Music that transmigrates from one voice to the other even as the Jiva moves from one body to the next. Pandit Mansur often felt this spiritual element intensely. He used to remark, “When I sing, I move away from worldliness into another plane.” He stubbornly refused the temptation to become more popular and consistently maintained the purity of his music as learnt from his Gurus.
Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia, the pre-eminent flautist in India for several decades, after Pandit Pannalal Gosh feels that our classical music has never been separated from its devotional context and that the Flute, in particular, has long been associated with Lord Krishna, the Para Brahman himself. Chaurasia strongly feels that there is an intrinsic link between Music and God and sees music as a kind of Sādhana. He believes that though the Rāga is the basic compositional element of Indian Classical Music or the master plan according to which musicians erect the structure of their music, there is more to Indian Music than that.
Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia, the pre-eminent flautist in India for several decades, after Pandit Pannalal Gosh feels that our classical music has never been separated from its devotional context and that the Flute, in particular, has long been associated with Lord Krishna, the Para Brahman himself. Chaurasia strongly feels that there is an intrinsic link between Music and God and sees music as a kind of Sādhana. He believes that though the Rāga is the basic compositional element of Indian Classical Music or the master plan according to which musicians erect the structure of their music, there is more to Indian Music than that.
The whole ethos of our music, he says, transcends the actual mechanics of the Rāga being aired and into the wider realm of an activated audience. “Music is a Festival which people can get tuned into, and discover their inner selves”, he says. The truth is that as one aspect of performance gets absorbed into the other, the impetus towards spiritual union gets stronger and stronger until all the components come together to form an experience beyond the purely musical. As the performer continues to build his or her musical edifice based on a Rāga, a spiritual transformation takes place both in the Artiste as well as the audience listening to it. We could describe this as an ennobling of the mind and the heart, a feeling of greater clarity of the Mind. With all thoughts in the Mind having been driven away by listening to the Music, there is a descent of serenity of the intellect from above. It is difficult to describe this transformation in words. It is as if one’s very soul is being cleansed and polished. Waves and waves of spiritual joy merge into one another till both the performer and the audience are caught up in an indescribable experience. How shall I put it? It is as if, a section of mankind listening to that music at that point in space and time, sees, if only briefly, a light at the end of this earthly tunnel and finds itself, suddenly closer to divinity. Can all this be simulated by circuits and coded signals? Can we ascribe the bliss felt by the Gopis and Gopikas upon hearing Sri Krishna’s magic flute in the glades of Brindaban to some material processes? Perhaps not. The Brhadāranyaka Upanishad has two beautiful shlokas which throw light on this mystery.
As to the SINGER, there is this Sloka [3.7.17], which says:
मन्त्र [3.7.17]
“यः श्रोत्रे तिष्ठञ्छ्रोत्रादन्तरो यꣳ श्रोत्रं न वेद यस्य
श्रोत्रꣳ शरीरं यः श्रोत्रमन्तरो यमयत्य्स एष त
आत्माऽन्तर्याम्यमृतः” ॥१७॥
यो yah – who; वाचि vaacii – in the organ of speech; तिष्ठन् tishtan – being stationed therein; वाचः vaacah – with regard to the organ of speech; अन्तरः antarah – is apart or separate; यं yam – whom; वाक् vaak – the organ of speech; न वेद – does not know; यस्य Yasya – whose; वाक् vaak – the organ of speech; शरीरं shariram – a part of the external body; यो yah – who; वाचमन्तरो – vaacamantaro – from within the organ of speech; यमयति Yamayati – rules over/governs; एष esha – that one; ते te – thy; आत्मा aatmaa – in dweller; अन्तर्यामि antaryaami inner-controller; अम्रुतः amrutah – immortal being ॥ १७
यो yah – who; वाचि vaacii – in the organ of speech; तिष्ठन् tishtan – being stationed therein; वाचः vaacah – with regard to the organ of speech; अन्तरः antarah – is apart or separate; यं yam – whom; वाक् vaak – the organ of speech; न वेद – does not know; यस्य Yasya – whose; वाक् vaak – the organ of speech; शरीरं shariram – a part of the external body; यो yah – who; वाचमन्तरो – vaacamantaro – from within the organ of speech; यमयति Yamayati – rules over/governs; एष esha – that one; ते te – thy; आत्मा aatmaa – in dweller; अन्तर्यामि antaryaami inner-controller; अम्रुतः amrutah – immortal being ॥ १७
“Who is stationed within the organ of speech; who is apart from
the organ of speech; whom the organ of speech knows not;
a part of whose body the organ of speech is; who rules over the
organ of speech from within; that one is thy in-dweller,
inner-controller, and eternal being.” II17II
“Who is stationed within the organ of speech; who is apart from
the organ of speech; whom the organ of speech knows not;
a part of whose body the organ of speech is; who rules over the
organ of speech from within; that one is thy in-dweller,
inner-controller, and eternal being.” II17II
As to the LISTENER, there is this Mantra or Shloka from the same Upanishad [3.7.19] which says:-
मन्त्र [3.7.19]
“यः श्रोत्रे तिष्ठञ्छ्रोत्रादन्तरो यꣳ श्रोत्रं न वेद यस्य
श्रोत्रꣳ शरीरं यः श्रोत्रमन्तरो यमयत्य्स एष त
आत्माऽन्तर्याम्यमृतः” ॥ १९॥
As to the LISTENER, there is this Mantra or Shloka from the same Upanishad [3.7.19] which says:-
मन्त्र [3.7.19]
“यः श्रोत्रे तिष्ठञ्छ्रोत्रादन्तरो यꣳ श्रोत्रं न वेद यस्य
श्रोत्रꣳ शरीरं यः श्रोत्रमन्तरो यमयत्य्स एष त
आत्माऽन्तर्याम्यमृतः” ॥ १९॥
यः yah – who; श्रोत्रे shrotre – within the organs of hearing; तिष्ठन् tishtan – being stationed therein; अन्तरः antarah – is apart or separate; श्रोत्रात् shrotraat – with respect to the organs of hearing; यो yah – who; श्रोत्रं shrotarm – the organs of hearing; न वेद na veda – know not; यस्य Yasya – whose; श्रोत्रं shrotarm – the organs of hearing; शरीरं shariram – are part of the external body; यः yah – who; श्रोत्रमन्तरो from inside the organs of hearing; यमयति Yamayati – rules over/governs; एष esha – that one; ते te – thy; आत्मा aatmaa – in dweller; अन्तर्यामि antaryaami inner-controller; अम्रुतः amrutah – immortal being II19II
यः yah – who; श्रोत्रे shrotre – within the organs of hearing; तिष्ठन् tishtan – being stationed therein; अन्तरः antarah – is apart or separate; श्रोत्रात् shrotraat – with respect to the organs of hearing; यो yah – who; श्रोत्रं shrotarm – the organs of hearing; न वेद na veda – know not; यस्य Yasya – whose; श्रोत्रं shrotarm – the organs of hearing; शरीरं shariram – are part of the external body; यः yah – who; श्रोत्रमन्तरो from inside the organs of hearing; यमयति Yamayati – rules over/governs; एष esha – that one; ते te – thy; आत्मा aatmaa – in dweller; अन्तर्यामि antaryaami inner-controller; अम्रुतः amrutah – immortal being II19II
“He who dwells within the organs of hearing; who is apart from the organs of hearing;
whom the organs of hearing know not; a part of whose body the organs of hearing are;
who controls the organs of hearing from the inside; that one is thy Inner Controller;
thy in-dweller, inner-controller, and eternal being.” II19II
These Mantras tell us that our organs of perception are controlled by divinity. Pandits Rajan & Sajan Mishra once remarked, “When we sing, we are one soul, even though we are two bodies.’ Music according to them, when performed, is an expression of gratitude to the Divine. They feel that while they pour out these feelings of gratitude separately in their individual explorations of each Raaga, together they yearn to rise beyond the worldly plane.
“He who dwells within the organs of hearing; who is apart from the organs of hearing;
whom the organs of hearing know not; a part of whose body the organs of hearing are;
who controls the organs of hearing from the inside; that one is thy Inner Controller;
thy in-dweller, inner-controller, and eternal being.” II19II
These Mantras tell us that our organs of perception are controlled by divinity. Pandits Rajan & Sajan Mishra once remarked, “When we sing, we are one soul, even though we are two bodies.’ Music according to them, when performed, is an expression of gratitude to the Divine. They feel that while they pour out these feelings of gratitude separately in their individual explorations of each Raaga, together they yearn to rise beyond the worldly plane.
Such sentiments expressed by intelligent and sensible human beings must make us wonder about the deep spiritual roots of Indian Classical Music. When performing, the late Ustad Nasir Zahiruddin Dagar, often appeared like a formidable Yogi, with his grey hairs strewn around a noble face like that of a Rishi of old, a graceful bearing and angle of repose. The slightly bent head, closed eyes, and hands raised, as if in deep meditation and prayer, and the intense concentration exuding from his face, all seemed to instantly cast a spell over the audience.
Singers of old like Bhai Lal Amritsari have a charisma of their own. Perhaps it is because of the appealing quality of the voice, or perhaps it is due to the way they bring out the notes of each raga, or it could be because of the deep feelings with which they invoke the spirit of the raga they happen to be singing or it is all because of a combination of these and other factors. It could also be due to their learning at the feet of their gurus and the total dedication to the art of their choice.
We have included many old time singers in the We have been seeing less and less true masters after the end of the golden age of Hindustani Classical around the 30s or 40s or when royal patronage declined dramatically. We have included many of the old masters in our playlist. Please enjoy their music.
How does one express in words that which the Mind cannot even think of, that which the intellect is unable to comprehend but which the Jiva inside us alone understands and responds to? Sri RĀMĀNUJĀ has asserted that the individual Jiva is really a Sesa (servant or liege) of the Sesi (Lord and Master) forming as it does, a part of His body. When in the grip of Prakriti, over cycles of births and deaths, the Sesa (Jiva) acutely feels the apparent separation from the Sesi (Para Brahman). Sri RĀMĀNUJĀ has emphatically declared that the Sesa cannot exist happily or independently of the Sesi and always yearns for reunion. Our Classical Music must surely be one way in which the Jiva expresses its agony at this separation and its intense longing for reuniting with the Para Brahman. It is the mode of communication of this yearning through our Classical Music that goes beyond words, beyond matter, beyond logic and beyond time and space.
A Selection of Music to listen along with the article ‘The Spiritual Roots of Indian Classical Music’.
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Beautiful amalgamation aunty!❤️ I happened to click Raag Malhar and the peacock’s dance together (by mistake) . It was a beautiful error and a delight to the the peacock dance to Miya ji’s rendition , as if he was sitting in the huge lawn with peacocksSutrajalam is quite binding true to its name 👌🏼The articles, poems, pictures and sounds ..all👍 Thanks for sharing.