The concert is over. Those who had come to meet me personally have also gradually dispersed. There is at the moment no one in the auditorium. One is experiencing only a harmonious state of being with oneself. The body is craving for rest but the mind is still entangled in the mehfil3. An indefinable pleasure starts sprouting all over in the mind side by side with a strange feeling of restlessness.
All around it is still, very still. There is really no energy left to converse with those who are accompanying me on our way back. However, for some unknown reason, there is an irrepressible desire to sing. At such times, I hum to myself. The people who are with me keep quiet. The sound of the car no more reaches me. My singing continues even after I have laid myself into bed. When I sense the stirring of the dawn I close my eyes and lie peacefully. Like the fragrance of incense the appreciative response experienced during the mehfil envelopes the whole body and mind, and resting there, I fall asleep. Two small feet appear before me in my dream, the two feet going to school.
There is a poem titled 'Kutir ka pushpa' (the flower belonging to the cottage) by Jainendra Kumar. There is a crazy flower. The old man in the cottage had reared it. The flower cherishes only one desire. 'ise sajaaun, ise rizaaun; kewal yahi kaamanaa hai' - to adorn it, to make it happy; this is the only wish' - the flower neither aspires to lie as an offering on the path of a revolutionary hero, nor does it want to embellish the tresses of a beautiful woman. It had just this little dream: to bring joy to the cottage which sheltered where it was born, grew and bloomed, and feel fulfilled thereby. I have a relationship with that flower.
Dattatraya Pilyaji(Aaba) Atre, Indira Atre(Aai), Usha, Prabha |
I was born in Pune. My parents were teachers. Financially we were not very well off. However, though living simply, we lacked nothing. My parents were both enthusiastic and interested in artistic pursuits. The school, a high school run by the Rasta Peth Education Society - was located in the eastern part of Pune which was considered backward. There were very few girls in the school. In my class, I was the only girl. My mother - Aai, would have liked to send both her daughters to a good school and Aabaa - my father, would say, "If I send my daughters to another school, how would others send their daughters to my school?"
Not only did our school have good teachers, it also had a whole lot of extra-curricular activities like sports, cultural programmes, crafts and other things. Aabaa used to make us take part in everything. All kinds of examinations - Hindi, Marathi, Sanskrit, drawing, dance, drama, music - nothing was spared. Not even the cane. Aabaa used to stand with a cane in his hand to see whether the children came to school in time or not.
'ALWAYS UPWARD'! A big board with this motto used to welcome everyone at the school. Even today, I walk several times in my thought on the road to the school, stand at the gate and read the motto again and again. I scan the path that has brought me this far. There is still so far to go! Aabaa used to say, "The top position is always vacant. It is easy to reach the top but difficult to continue to be there".
Aabaa loved the school very much. He used to say, "I have three daughters. This school is my eldest". Right from sweeping the floors to collecting the children personally by going to each one's home, Aabaa has done every kind of job. Aai too used to be by his side. Aabaa had shifted his entire household to the school. To our share came only the time that could be spared thereafter.
Even at 85, Aabaa's heart was still in the school. He was after new plans and new projects. We feel ashamed when we think of running around that he did.
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I studied in our school till matriculation. Now it was College! Should I now go in for Arts or for Science? Although I was learning music, there was no intention whatsoever at that time to take up music as the sole profession. Besides, my parents had wanted me to be a doctor. I was enrolled in Fergusson College. Our house was at one end of the city and the college, at the other end. I used to ride daily on my bicycle. My mother used to be unwell now and then. Doing the household chores, studying, going to the college, learning music - I was always on the run. I did Inter-Science, but could not get admission into the medical college at Pune. As to going outside Pune, I had never been away from home. While I was doing Inter-Science, Aabaa had wanted to keep me in the college hostel so that I could get time for studies; I had started crying like a small child. I could not tolerate the idea of leaving home and staying somewhere else. Basically I was shy and timid by nature. When visitors came, I used to run to the kitchen. At school, being the only girl in my class, there was no question of my talking to the boys. Moreover, I think, the real reason was that I liked to be alone.
From the very childhood, I was, on the whole, disciplined, critical, responsible, serious, introvert, quiet and crazy about beauty of any kind. Whenever I saw, heard of or read about anything nice, I felt that I should master it. I was very particular that my surroundings and the people around me were clean. That is why I did not mix with people. I remember that I used to go to play only with those children who were clean and tidy. No one had to tell me to do my home work. When I returned home from school, I would sit at the door, do my home work for the following day and only then go inside. Every one of my examinations, I have passed with flying colours. Once, while in school, I completed the course of two years in one and passed the examination. That is how I completed my matriculation early. Sports, however was one thing that I was not particularly fond of.
Usha, my younger sister, on the other hand, was a total contrast to me; bold and playful. As a child, she always shunned work. She would collect the children and keep on playing with them. But she would surely be present on dot when it was meal time. She used to take away my things even till the time when she had gone to Nagpur to study in the medical college there. She too was unable to get admission at Pune. She sang well. She had not learnt. But she had a good voice, was intelligent and also had exposure to music because of my learning to sing at home. Whenever Usha said to Sureshbabu - my guru, "Please teach me also to sing" he would say, "There is no need for you to learn. You will be able to get it just like that".
Exposure is no doubt very important. Usha sang light music. She has several gramophone records. She gave playback for Marathi films. She sang now and then for radio and TV as well, though she never gave solo performances in public. She also acted in Marathi plays for some time. Had she decided to go in only for music and acting, she would have earned a good reputation. Due to her medical profession, she did not get time for anything else.
It was while studying at Nagpur that Usha decided to get married. Both were studying in the same class. Dr. Suresh Wagh was a highly likeable man. Although Aai and Aabaa were not unhappy that they had no son, that void was also filled when Suresh appeared on the scene. Suresh and Usha settled in Bombay. Usha worked as an Anasthetist in Jaslok Hospital and Suresh as a Neurosurgeon in the Bombay Hospital. Both of them were well known in their fields.
Usha had left her two daughters behind in India when she went to London. The elder, Kalpana, was with the mother-in-law and the younger, Manisha, was with us since she was four months old. Although her parents came back to Bombay, she was not prepared to go to them. Usha always said, "Maavashi1* has turned her into a spoilt brat".
That was, indeed, true to some extent. Manisha had a lot of talent in her. She, too, is a doctor like her parents but I have a strong desire that she should also sing well. She has a good voice. She is intelligent and she has had exposure. She with her family has now settled in the USA and has little time for music. I hope her talented daughters Nitya and Naina take music seriously.
Aai was always with Aabaa in every way. He always told us, "What we are today is entire due to Indu". Aai, too, had to do a job because of the family's finances. Still, the house was always spick and span. She liked to sew, embroider and do similar creative crafts. When she did the cooking, Aabaa's intake was higher. The poems that Aai composes are really good. She also writes stories. Her stories and songs for children have been published in the form of books. We, her daughters, got a book of her published on the occasion of her sixty-first birthday and on her ninty-first birthyear, I was able to get published her seventh book ‘Chupa Chupi’, a compilation of her poems in Marathi.
I joined the Law College when I completed my Bachelors in Science. Everyone was surprised that I went in for law instead of doing Masters. Actually, I had even acquired the license for practicing law. But, I did not have the temperament that is needed for practicing law. In the meanwhile, I got a Central Government Scholarship for music. I acted on the stage for some time. I got a job in the All India Radio; all this happened in quick succession and I never got down to become a lawyer. However, I did have to go to the court for almost 20 years on account of the school and on account of our house. This is how I had an association with the court even though I did not practise law. That was a great mental harassment. It is impossible to calculate how much time, money and energy were wasted. Once one steps into a court, one is totally trapped; just cannot get out at all and even then, there is no guarantee that one would get justice at the end.
Even after his retirement, Aabaa kept on fighting for the school just as a matter of principle. Those who worked against him were people close to him, related to him. The outsiders were, of course, not concerned. Aai had to suffer a lot during this period due to the litigations. Usha was in London. Thus, I alone had to shoulder this responsibility in every way.
The second law suit was about our house. It took full 25 years for the case to reach the Supreme Court. There too, justice was denied to us. Aai and Aabaa had constructed the house with such enthusiasm! Because the house was located far away from the school, they had decided to move in only after they retired. Somebody had a housing problem. He promised, " I will vacate the house whenever you ask me to do so". Aabaa trusted him but when the time came, the man plainly said, "No!" My parents' desire to spend the last days of their life in that house remained unfulfilled.
No one in our family was particularly interested in music. None in the older generations of either Aabaa or Aai had made a special effort to listen to classical music. Music came into our family as a sheer accident. We were all at a point of desperation due to Aai's illness. One just did not know what to do. Somebody suggested a therapy. "Let her learn to play the haarmonium. Just try, whether she can forget her ailment while paying attention to the notes of music". A teacher was brought in to teach her haarmonium. I used to sit next to her while she learnt to play. She stopped learning after a while and I started learning to sing. It was then that one realised that by God's grace I had a good voice and a keen mind for music. I do not know what made me to learn classical music. The strings of taanpuraa started resounding in our house, something that had never happened before.
All this was, of course, new to me. I had, indeed, started learning but I did not know how to do riyaaz2*. There was no one to tell me whether whatever I was doing was right or not. Such matters are quite important in the initial stages. There was no musical environment in the house. My parents were enthusiastic; but they knew nothing about classical music. Anyway, while taking tuition from Shri Vijay Karandikar, I got familiar with the musical notes, became acquainted with the raags, started understanding taal. I started singing all varieties of music like khyaal, thumri, naatyasangeet, bhaavgeet, bhajan, etc. I started singing in mehfils, some small, some big. My music started developing, thanks to Aabaa's encouragement. There would constantly be many occasions (to sing) like prize distribution ceremonies in schools, this or that competition, children's programmes on the Radio, Ganesha festivals and so on.
I think adolescence is the best phase in life. One imbibes all good influences at this age and leads the rest of one's life on the strength of this accumulated treasure. Fortunately, I have received all this in my childhood - the love, guidance, encouragement, blessings of my parents, elders and gurus. I have received so much of this wealth that it will last for my lifetime. It is on the strength of this wealth that I am standing on my own feet, standing erect. This wealth is not to be weighed on the scales of popular reputation. However, there too, the Almighty has in no way given me less.
"The girl sings quite well", people had started saying. It was necessary now, to move further. But one day, this dream of mine, suddenly seemed to have vanished. I had gone for singing to a place called Savda in Khandesh. The mehfil at night went off very well. But when I got up in the morning the next day, the notes could not emerge properly from my throat. Some said that my voice had cracked; some said that something had gone in through the food. Anyway, whatever might have happened, had happened. I had lost my voice. Voice is all that a singer has. Although at that time, I had not decided to make singing as my profession , I had realized the pleasure that music was and had started understanding the beauty of the swaras. May be, that understanding was something inborn in me. I was nurturing my music under the influence of Roshanara Begum, Bade Gulam Ali Khan and also of the film star Noorjahan . But now everything was over. A year and a half was spent in this anxious state. My loneliness increased. But it is this brooding that has given me quite a lot. I had my tonsils operation too around the same time. Even today, I will not be able to say whether the operation had a positive or negative effect on my voice. But I become aware now and then, that the effect of the mental shock that I suffered in my tender years on account of my voice, has still not been wiped off. My voice was gradually coming under my control. Then I took heart and became determined. I started my journey again. ... And Sureshbabu Mane came into my life. He enriched my musical existence in every sense of the term. I learnt from him nearly for six years. There would be an occasional break. But there used to be plenty to work during riyaaz.
... And suddenly Sureshbabu passed away due to heart attack while I was doing my first year of law. My hopes and aspirations came crashing down. Between us had developed, a bond of a guru and shishya, highly cherished in Indian tradition. The loss of Sureshbabu as my guru in music and as a human being had inflicted a deep wound on my mind, a never-healing wound.
Sureshbabu passed away and I was awarded a Central Government Scholarship . I was praised everywhere in Maharashtra being the first scholarship holder. But who to learn from? I did not know what to do. In this situation Hiraabaai, Sureshbabu's younger sister took me under her wings and showed me the path ahead, the path to mehfil singing.
Fergusson College where I did my Inter-Science was somewhat conservative. Girls and boys did not mingle with each other, at least during those days. I did not even have female friends. Everything, however, changed in the Law College. For the first time, I started mingling with the boys. Aabaa contributed to that said: "Stand for elections". Myself: "I do not know anyone and I will not canvas for myself". Aabaa: "Don't canvas. Just contest".
And a surprise! I was elected. Principal Pandit specially called me and congratulated. He was fond of music. He always enquired after me. Not only was he an excellent teacher, his charming manners too, used to win one's heart. There are a few resting places in my life. Amongst them is Law College and Pandit Sir. Three or four of us students had come closer as a group on account of the elections. That close bond has still sustained. I feel that friendships forged at schools and colleges are touched by something innocent, something sacred. Here outer masks get dropped. There may be petty quarrels and some displeasures but the bonds never break.
Law College was over and belonged to the past. The two years of scholarship were spent with Hiraabaai. And, like music, theatre too entered my life by accident. Zonal representations were going to be held in Delhi. The Pune Social Club had started preparations for staging musical play 'Sharada'. Famous theatre personalities like Chintubua Divekar, Ganapatrao Bodas, Bhalchandra Pendharkar were taking part in this show. That was my first performance on the stage. After that I had offers for many other plays, Vidyaharan, Samshaykallol, Mrichhakatika and Lilao of Rangnekar. During these days I acted with all the front-ranking actors - Chhota Gandharva, Master Damle, Sambaprasad, Savakar and others. During those three years, it was theatre and more theatre. Around the same time, I took part in several radio-plays with well-known personalities like P.L. Deshpande. An opera presented on stage during Radio-week by the Pune Radio Station, 'Tulsidas' and 'Chandanachi Utee' as special presentation, the play 'Biraj Bahu' in Hindi by the Nagpur Station etc., are still recalled by people.
I had never given a thought to what I should be doing to ensure stability in life. For the majority of women, this problem of their life is solved through marriage. I was at a marriageable age at that time. Aai and Aabaa did probably feel that the girl should get married, but I did not marry; it was not that I had decided not to marry, but I also did not feel a special urge that I have to get married. My fastidious nature came into the way. Aabaa would occasionally broach upon the subject, but he did not pressurise. Mehfils and theatre continued on the other hand and my time was spent very pleasantly in those activities.
Once, I casually read an advertisement in the newspaper and, on an impulse, sent an application for the job. I got an appointment as an Assistant Producer in the Music Department of the All India Radio. The very first posting was at Ranchi in Bihar. For me, this was an end. Leaving Pune, to stay away from Aai and Aabaa! Aai and Aabaa had come to see me off at the station. When they turned to leave, I broke into spasms of crying. people in the train started to enquire, "Is the girl going to her in-laws?" hin three months I got myself transferred to Nagpur. Usha was studying there the Medical College and Pune, too, was near.
A new life began in Nagpur, an independent life. Not being used to live entirely on my own, it was very hard at the beginning. But gradually I got used to it. I stayed in Nagpur for full four and a half years. I started liking Nagpur. The people were nice and there was a lot to learn in the radio. I was getting a chance to try out new ideas and new experiments. There was technical equipment and the help of knowledgeable people at hand. The medium of radio was at my disposal. It was in the radio that I discovered my potential as a composer.
One great advantage of working in the All India Radio was the opportunity of listening to many great artists at close quarters in a live performance. I was able to study their gaayaki4*. That was unconsciously influencing even my own style of singing. It was only here that I received the touch of Amir Khan's gaayaki. One of his disciples, Srikant Bakre, used to sing on the radio. I got to know him. The acquaintance grew into a close bond of friendship. There were musical sittings everyday. This resulted into the introduction of sargam5* at that time into my singing. In the later years my gaayaki slightly moved away from the Kirana mould. Although the major influence is that of Amir Khan's gaayaki, my musical personality has also been enriched by many other artists, big and small. These include artists specialised in classical music as well as those singing for the films. There are ghazal singers, pop singers and disco artists. I enjoy all forms of singing. They are flowers blooming in the garden of music. Each has a different colour, a different fragrance. It is wrong to compare one with the other. One should stroll in this garden like a rasika. Our habits, conventions, our knowledge, our experience set limits on us when we set out to meet beauty of any kind. It takes time to realize this. In this context, I am always reminded of a sher6* which says:
"When the eyes were not open, even the sea seemed to be a drop;
But as the eyes opened, even a drop looked like a sea".
This is the importance of knowledge. I learnt that when one criticizes anything, one should first consider whether one has the competence to do so.
When Usha completed her Medicine I opted for a transfer to Bombay. The number of mehfils increased. I was being noticed more and more in Bombay. This success of mine became, however, a sore point for some people. I started facing harassment at my job. What I did beyond my working hours was entirely my business. But for every programme, I had to seek permission from Delhi. My superiors reacted to it as if I was committing a crime. Those working against my interests created obstacles in every possible way. Attempts were made twice or thrice to get me transferred. When it became too much, I left the job. I realized that my life was meant for doing something better. It was a waste, both of time and energy to carry on a fight through official correspondence. It was desirable that I should spend that time in concentrating on an intense pursuit of my music. I wasted two years for nothing getting entangled in bureaucratic hurdles.
It was after I gave up the job that I started to live like an artist in the true sense of the term. I became fully convinced that one is able to soar on the wings of one's creativity only when one is free.
In the next ten years, I made several trips abroad, saw the whole world, listened to the music of those places and let the people there, listen to my music. I also taught music in the educational institutions there. The more experience one gains, the more does one become aware of one's own shortcomings. One learns to notice things that lie beyond his horizon. As Bhartruhari has said:
"Well, how many great men are there,
who undergo an inner growth,
whose heart leaps with joy,
as they glorify the smallest good of others
to the size of a mountain?"
Even to seek the good in others is a virtue to be acquired by training oneself.
It was during my stay abroad I realized that one must add to one's knowledge in every possible way. I saw that, there, the artists do not just stop at acquiring skills in effective performance, but also talk and write with authority on their creations. That led to my taking up research for a doctorate. I made this effort not merely to get a degree. It is only when one sets up a goal before oneself that one studies regularly and with determination, and thinks over issues that one would have otherwise not noticed. There were many unfamiliar raags in the curriculum for the 'Praveen' (D. Music) examination of the Gandharva Mahavidyalaya. I got tremendous help from the well-known singer Shri Nivruttibua Sarnaik for this study. Bua taught me with great affection.
It is on account of the same point of view that I accepted in 1979 the post of the Professor and the Head of the Department of Music at the SNDT Women's University. The work that I had done in the All India Radio was of a different kind - organising programmes, selecting artists, recording, editing, planning of music and in addition doing administrative work needed for these. Education was a new field for me. To train students privately at home and to teach collectively in an educational institution are two different things altogether. Here, one has to study side by side both the aspects, the theory and performance. There are other branches affiliated to music. These, too, have to be handled. The experience with the radio had enriched my music; likewise, the work at the university sharpened my ideas and my thinking about music.
The network of my private students is extensive. It includes students who have come from abroad. Lately, however, I have rarely been accepting new students. This is misinterpreted by people. But when one accepts someone as a shishya, one also has to accept the responsibility that the person would at least become a competent listener, that he will acquire an understanding of everything related to music, that his enjoyment of music would be enhanced and that he would know the difference between what is good and what is bad. Even to achieve this requires a long time. The journey thereafter, is easy. Only a competent listener can become a competent singer. He can check his own performance and improve upon it. I always have only one thing to say to my students, "Do not learn blindly, you may sing little but sing with understanding. Unless you are not satisfied with yourself, you will not be able to satisfy your listeners. My job is to lead you up on the right path; the rest of the journey has to be done by you. There are no 'short cuts' in music. Music is like a line drawn on the surface of water. The line is there only while it is being drawn. That is what makes riyaaz so important in music. This riyaaz has to be done in the full sense of the term. Side by side with actual practice, other things like writing, reading, thinking, deliberating and discussing are also important. Just as the crop belongs to him who does the ploughing, similarly, music belongs to him who practices it. Once would never be enough; one has to do it again and again and again.
Not every student who is learning from a competent guru, would necessarily become a performer because many factors have to come together in the making of a good artist, such as a voice suited for singing (for a vocalist), all round intellect, a sensitive mind, good health, regular practice (riyaaz), determination and sacrifice. That is not all. Luck is also badly needed. Besides, one has to master the art of public relations which has become absolutely necessary in this age of publicity and information media. This has become something inevitable in order to get recognition and to continue to remain recognized.
The commercial form that the art and the profession of music has acquired (on account of technological advances) is probably responsible for the gradual change that is taking place in the relationship between the guru and shishya. This relationship used to have an emotional basis. Now one notices only business considerations in it. It seems that the primary consideration (in choosing a guru) is which guru would be useful, to what extent for attaining success, instead of to what extent one's knowledge would be enhanced. After having reached a specific level of competence through training, one has to take the next flight forward on one's own. If one has to seek a guru for every innovation, one should be able to realise how handicapped one is.
The phenomenon that someone makes the tree grow by constant care through watering and manuring and another reaps the harvest when the tree bears fruit, is being witnessed also in the field of music. The guru-shishya relationship has become so commercial that a guru might transfer to the shishya all the knowledge that he has acquired throughout a life time of hard work and study, and then the latter could just turn his back and take no further notice of the guru; and as if that were not enough, not even bother to make a mention of him as a guru. Like the shishyas, the gurus have also changed. They, too, want 'successful' shishyas. A pupil who has risen up after being trained by another guru and has got recognition, is suddenly given the status of a shishya by teaching him just a bandish or two. Devotion, faith, bonding are things that are no more experienced.
For me, as an artist, the listener has a special place in my life. The listener also plays a part in the making of an artist. A mehfil artist must, by all means, think of his listeners. Every listener has a different liking, different understanding and different expectation. The artist has to shoulder the responsibility of carrying all his listeners along on his journey of joy. I have had several concerts in India and in every concert I have sung with total dedication. One has to face many problems in striking a balance between business and pursuit of art. However, if one is honest to oneself, one always carries within oneself a kind of moral courage while facing the ups and downs of success and failure.
An artist has to learn to have faith in himself and in his art. It is then alone, that he is able to stand erect with self-respect; he is able to face every situation as it arises; he is able to get inner satisfaction and be in peace with himself. A new avenue opened up for me in 1981. I worked as Chief Consultant in a recording company called 'Swarashree'. In the field of performing arts, the spectators or the listeners are very important. An attempt was being made to find out whether one could find new ways to create them in larger numbers and to make them better informed. If one wants to raise the standard of the art, one has to raise the level of the spectators or listeners as well.
There are several avenues of knowledge and of creativity. I am lured by every one of them. When I see a good painting, I feel like picking up a brush; when I see a dancer's performance, I feel like trying the anklets on my feet; whenever I read something nice, I feel like taking a pen. I know that I would not be able to manage everything, but for me the experience is important. The little amount of writing that I had started with was done only because I had to do it. One is more cautious when one writes than when one speaks. One tries to put into measured phrases only that which one exactly wants to convey. In doing so, one's own thoughts become more clear. All my writing is a result of such thinking. I am not a writer. I am not as familiar with the medium, as music, in all its aspects. I do enjoy literature. I do not dream of getting recognition either as a poet or a writer. Through the medium of language, I only wish to convey my ideas and experiences about music to the people. I think that they can then come closer to what I create, when they are listening to me. They will be able to understand the thought that underlies my doing or not doing something.
Today mehfil singing has filled my entire life. I like mehfil from the very depth of my heart. During a mehfil, I feel as if I am at my parental home. In a music festival, I feel like a stranger. Artists come to the stage and go (one by one) making place for others like players in the game of kho-kho. They keep on waiting till their turn comes, sometimes at day break at 4º'clock or at 7º'clock in the morning. I always admire the patience of the listeners. How much can a person take in, even if it is good music? Isn't there some limit to that? At such times, 'listening' is also a pretence. The bonding that one expects to take place between the artist and the listeners, never gets established. That is why, when there is a choice between a mehfil and a music festival, I choose the former.
The business-like attitude that has entered the field of classical music today is there only on account of these music festivals. It is here that the recent trends like newspaper publicity, huge hoardings, souvenirs, fat fees for the artists, are nurtured. The poor mehfil has been buried under it. Music circles cannot organize such publicity and pour out so much money. It is mehfils that are sustaining Indian classical music. One should take care that music festivals do not kill mehfils.
With the exception of mehfil, I have distanced myself away for a considerable time, from other means (of public recognition and reach out) important for any artist, like radio, TV, cassettes, CD's, for one reason or another. I know that in doing so, I am doing harm to myself. I also admit that once one enters a profession, one has to make compromises. But, this never becomes an actual reality. Many years passed after my first record was released. That record sold very well. I got a lot of publicity. It is still being played in homes where people are not particularly interested in classical music. Many have completely memorised the raags Maarubihaag and Kalaawati contained in that record. Many have written to me. Particularly surprising is the fact that the record is a favourite among young children. Many mothers invite me to their home after mehfil. I do not know how they come to know that I like to eat puranpoli, mango, bhajji (pakoras) or thalipith. One of these items is always there in my plate. My throat gets choked with emotion. I feel extremely gratified by the thought that I have been able to bring some joy into their life.
Nearly after 25 years gap, new recordings are being commercially released regularly. Though somewhat late I am gradually correcting my mistake.
While I was working for the radio, my programmes have been broadcast from almost all the stations. During my period of service in the All India Radio, I have performed several times in the national programmes of classical music, programmes by invitation and other special programmes. When I left the job, I also gave up singing for the regular programmes of music on the radio.
Is it that I have no ambition or I am too much of an idealist? I just do not know for sure. This, however, is true that I am not willing to make a compromise.
I am, by nature, quiet, inhibited and self-respecting. This leads very often to the perception, "Madam is haughty, does not mix with anyone, does not talk much". Consequently, I have not been able to form any group of my own, something which is necessary from the professional point of view. The professional culture of today is 'group-lobby culture' where an individual has no place. I am seeing this and am also affected by it.
Like other professions, the profession of classical singing too, has now gone under the control of publicity management. To establish contact with persons holding an office of authority in different fields, with sponsors and with writers of critical reviews, to plan a systematic strategy so that there is continuous mention in the newspapers for one reason or other, to make conscious use of publicity means, to take part in important official and semi-official functions and to take care that one's image is constantly projected afresh before the public; all these matters have become an essential part of the profession.
For this kind of work, namely, for taking care of the public image of the artist along with his business engagements, there are agents in the foreign countries. Here, however, the artist himself does these things or friends and relatives come to his help. Now there are event managers, agencies who are also working for the artists. Apart from competence in artistic performance, it has now become necessary to learn business management. The artists who cannot manage to learn any of these things, cannot get into the limelight in spite of their artistic excellence. That also means that their names are not put forward for things like awards and honours.
Actually, it is the responsibility of organisations and experts working in the field and also of the government to locate deserving artists, to evaluate their contributions, rate them by laying down well-defined principles for setting up standards for selection, judging their merit on the basis of these standards and to honour them in a befitting manner. But one does not see this happening. Only those names are considered again and again which are visible all the time for one reason or another. Once a name goes into the circuit, it keeps on circulating automatically. No other name is considered. Just as money goes where money is, one award follows where another has already gone and the cycle goes on.
Many of my admirers think that I have obtained much less than what I actually deserve. They are also surprised that I do not say anything. They express their anger in letters or during their personal visits. What can I say to them? Do they know that many deserving artists have not even got what I have received.
I was awarded 'Padmashri' by the Government of India in 1990. At first I had decided not to accept it. But relatives and close friends said, "It is an honour of national level. Your parents have now become old. Let them have a chance to witness their daughter's glory". Finally I decided to accept the award for the sake of my parents and admirers. However, my real happiness came when my book 'Swaramayee' got the Maharashtra State Government Award. My ecstasy was like that of a person who while watching the sky on a starry night suddenly finds that one of the stars has gently dropped itself into his open palms without his knowledge. 'Swaramayee' brought a lot of joy into my life. The readers, too, praised it a lot.
Surprisingly, I did a lot of writing after Swaramayee and all of it was also published. There was a second revised edition of Swaramayee. The collection of articles written after Swaramayee's publication came out in the form of 'Swaralee'. 'Swaranginee' is a book of my musical compositions. It contains 200 of my bandishs cast in different forms of music - khyaal, taraanaa, thumri, daadraa and bhajan in about 80 raags. The text of these compositions in Hindi is also authored by me. The second book of my compositions is already in the process of being published. There are suggestions, nay, urgent requests for preparing cassettes to accompany the book so as to make it easy for readers to learn the compositions. I am considering how and to what extent this could be achieved.
My personal musings shaped nearly in the form of free verse have been published in 'Antahswar'.
I have also written a book in English 'Enlightening the Listener' in order that my ideas, my thoughts and my experiences in the context of music could reach the non-Marathi speaking music lovers. The book was released by the then Prime Minister of India Shri. Atal Behari Vajpayee. Another book 'Along the Path of Music' narrates all that has happened in my life besides the actual concerts, though in the context of music.
Receiving the Sangeet Natak Akademi Award from the then President Shri R. Venkatraman Also seen is Dr. Girish Karnad |
In 1991 I became a recipient of one more award of national level, the one from the Sangeet Natak Akademi. I sometimes wonder whether one's capacity to feel happiness and experience joy goes on decreasing. For me this time, there was a new reason for this. My father had been in coma for the previous three months. Watching his suffering, we had almost lost our senses. Even then he was the first one in whose ear I whispered the news. Could he have comprehended? However, that was for my satisfaction.
After a long gap of 12 years in 2002 another national honour 'Padmabhushan' came to me. It was a sheer luck since I have no God-father, I am not good at public relations. How I wish Aabaa, Usha and Suresh were alive to share my joy! Aabaa passed away in 1992. He was bed-ridden for 3-4 years. Usha and Suresh were doctors of the family. Therefore, we had no cause for worry. Aabaa got best treatment and medical attention on account of these two. I was reassured that in my old age too, Usha and Suresh would be there to look after me. But Suresh had a paralytic stroke even as Aabaa was sick and bedridden. Everything changed. To make matters worse, the domestic servant, seeing that there was no one around in the house, strangled Suresh and murdered him for the sake of money. Shocked as she was with the tragic event, Usha committed suicide with an injection administered by herself. All these blows followed one after the other. One just did not know what was happening. Brain refused to function and the mind had become numb. But I had to push aside all my sorrow and stand up brave and resolute. Aai was 83 years old. Both of Usha's daughters though grown up, were suddenly orphaned. I had to shoulder every responsibility. To whom could have I narrated my tale of woes? And what was there to tell? I packed all my sorrow in my mind and hiding my tears behind the taanpuraa, kept on singing. What a big support music has been to me?
As regards honours and awards. I am aware that they have a lot of significance from the business point of view. But the real satisfaction for an artist, I feel, lies in his continuing further on the path of his saadhanaa7* and not in material, worldly success.
On the path of saadhanaa,
the company is only of storms.
Should one want to seek rest;
the shores, too, are lost in water.
What remains there,
to show the path,
to take one forward?
Only the lamp of 'faith'.
My own mental condition many a times was like, with every step, one wanting to say:
'The darkness, packed densely in every speck
has now settled in mind, up to the brim,
there is no room, even for a ray of hope;
if at all, it takes pity and wants to come in.'
How well the same sentiment has been expressed by the venerable guru of gurus, Rabindranath Tagore:
'Sorrow is hushed into peace in my heart
like the evening among the silent trees.'
I wish to ask for only one thing from God, "Let my feet keep on moving forward on this path. Let me keep singing till my last breath".
On this journey of mine, my listeners have given me a lot of their love. Their affectionate and appreciative words lend a new freshness to my music every time. The blessings of my parents and gurus are always there to support me. My faith in God becomes more firm and my feet begin to walk again.
I am well aware that all which I have received as my share, is by no means meager. Whatever work I have done, whether as a singer, thinker, academician, author, composer or guru, has received acclaim several times. I have been allotted jobs of several kinds like - the position of Special Executive Magistrate; appointment as Member for the Maharashtra State Cultural Committee, Maharashtra Public Service Commission, selection committees for national awards, scholarships, competitions, etc.
I have been working for several years as the Chairperson in my school - Rasta Peth Education Society at Pune. In 2000, I established 'Dr. Prabha Atrre Foundation' to promote the cause of Indian classical music in particular and other performing arts in general. The Foundation has been organizing music festivals, concerts and cultural programmes in Mumbai and in other parts of the country. The famous 'Sureshbabu Hiraabaai Smriti Sangeet Samaroh8*' held every year in Mumbai, for the past many years, in memory of my gurus in honour of their contribution to the Indian classical music, features maestros as well as accomplished youngsters. This samaroh has been hailed as the biggest music festival drawing more than 4000 music lovers. The other music festival 'Gaanprabha' features mainly young talented artists.
Swaramayee Gurukul inaugration. |
As a major step in the direction of fulfilling the objectives of the Foundation, 'Swaramayee Gurukul' was inaugurated in Pune in 2003 by the Hindustani classical music maestro Pt. Bhimsen Joshi. A unique institution, my dream project, it houses a gurukul wherein talented students aspiring to take music as a professional career can stay and equip themselves to meet the challenges of the profession. To facilitate which Swaramayee Gurukul provides training aided by a small auditorium, library of audio-video cassettes and books, facility for audio-video recording etc., It also provides a platform for mehfils, seminars, workshops, discussions, press conferences etc., The institution, an endeavor to fulfill socio-cultural commitments, aims to bridge the prevailing gap between the academic institutions and the traditional guru-shishya paramparaa.
It occurs to me when I calculate the sum total of all these, that God has given to me as my share much more than, what I think, I deserve. My mind bends down even more than before in humility. I sincerely pray to God that I may prove myself worthy of all this.
I do know that in life, there is confrontation just as there is harmony. Rarely does one find the harmonising notes, but one has to face confrontation even when one does not ask for it. I cannot tolerate any injustice done to me. I cannot practise flattery. That is why I gave up my job with the AIR; I have to face such situations sometimes, even in my profession. I, too, have my share of problems which women practicing music as a profession have to face. People get offended, rumours are spread. Such situations arise and make their way right to one's home. Time and energy are spent to no useful purpose. There is plenty of mental agony. Who knows whether an artists mind is extra-sensitive!
As a result of my work with the All India Radio and in the SNDT Women's University and on account of my professional career as well, I have, by now, come into close contact with many people. My nature, too, I feel has therefore, undergone some change. I am now able to smile when people get together, boldly welcome them and engage them in conversation quite well. Still, I do not really enjoy things like parties, hotels etc. Whenever I go out of station for programmes, I usually tell the organisers to arrange for my stay at somebody's residence. I have been abroad many times but I have neither tasted alcohol nor had non-vegetarian food. Not that there is anything bad about it but my Brahmin upbringing has penetrated so deep that it is just not possible to bring about a change at this stage.
I am extremely fond of the colour White. I am particular about wearing white for my programmes. In doing so I do not wish to establish myself as Mira. For, I like both Mira and Radha, I think that both are reflected in my nature as well as in my singing.
I do not have any set habits, not even of drinking tea. I am willing to adjust myself anywhere. Whenever I go out, I want that I could remain unrecognised. I am in the habit of humming to myself while I am travelling. I am completely oblivious of my surroundings and when I come out of that state, I find people looking at me. People who have no familiarity with classical music, are smiling. They are probably wondering whether I am of sane mind. Those who have had a brush with classical music are eager to know who I am. I avoid telling my name. Once I tell my name, my privacy is over.
People think that I have no family, no ties; therefore, I have plenty of time and I have no worries; the only thing that I have to do, is just to pick the taanpuraa and sit on the stage! What do people know? I have a family and a household just like others except that I do not have a husband. I have to shoulder (have been shouldering) the responsibility of my parents, Usha's daughter has grown up just like my daughter. Visitors come and go; there are guests; there are ailments and illnesses; there are domestic and outsides chores, law courts and office work. In other families, there is a husband, at least to bring an income and to share other responsibilities. In my household, I am doing everything single-handed. There is a home to be looked after and there are professional tensions too. My life is, in no way, different just because I am an artist and unmarried.
When I look at my life as a singer, I feel that my entire life has been a mehfil. To create harmonious happiness in the life of others without letting oneself go out of tune, is the foremost duty of every person. One cannot evaluate life just in the two terms - 'success' and 'failure'. To gain a holistic view of life could be considered as the successful culmination of human effort. A person is alone when he is born and alone also when he departs. But the space between these two is filled by the gathering at a mehfil. As poet Mir has said:
'I had started alone on my journey;
but when I turned around,
I saw that a caravan had formed behind.'
One walks ahead in life all alone, one experiences moments of success and failure with equanimity, one is neither inebriated by happiness nor is enfeebled by sorrow, one is mentally detached, one starts seeing the other shore and one is inwardly astounded that one has reached up to the point all alone when one suddenly turns around and glances behind to see a crowd of well-wishers bidding good bye with tearful eyes and before one realizes what is happening, the soul merges into the divine and that exhilarating moment may prove to be the last moment of the mehfil of life. This is what I have ever been wishing for.
maavashi1* - maternal aunt
riyaaz2* - sustained practice
mehfils3* - concerts
gaayaki4* - style of singing
sargam5* - utterance of note-names sa, ri, ga, ma, pa, dha, ni
sher6* - Urdu couplet
saadhanaa7* - striving for greater excellence
samaroh8* - festival