BHENDI BAZAAR GHARANA

This article appeared originally in Mumbai Mirror, of the Times Of India group.

Gharanas, using the guru-shishya system to maintain musical ideology since time immemorial, acquired a new significance in the nineteenth century. The withering of royal patronage forced musicians to migrate to urban centres, and the names of the gharanas (Agra Gharana, Gwalior Gharana, Patiala Gharana, Indore Gharana etc) marked the identity of not just their music, but also their hometown. But while most gharanas are named after where their musicians migrated from, the Bhendi Bazaar Gharana, Mumbai's only native classical music gharana, stands out as being named after where they migrated to.

The din of South Bombay (then Bombay City) was interrupted with music in 1870, when three brothers – Chajju Khan, Nazir Khan and Khadim Hussain Khan – left Bijnaur in Moradabad District, UP, to live with their brother, a merchant. Having trained under their father Dilawar Khan, they continued to learn: Dhrupad Damar Gayaki from Inayat Hussain Khan of Sahaswan Gharana, till by 1890, their music reached many a ear.

While some called their style the Moradabad Gharana, the brothers being dubbed 'Bhendi Bazaar Waale' by music loving citizens, led to a re-christening. Some say the brothers didn't stay in Bhendi Bazaar at all, but in a residential area known as 'behind the bazaar', a phrase corrupted by colloquialism to eventually give the Gharana's current name.

This name won it's fame by virtue of the generation after the founders' (disciples of the same). One important name from this generation is Aman Ali Khan (Chajju Khan's son) whose popularity in the 1940s led to the gharana's gayaki (singing style) often being called Aman Ali Khan Gayaki. Another, is Anjanibai Malpekar (who taught Kishori Amolkar) whose performances won the gharana nationwide recognition, even at a time when female singers were frowned upon by society.

Stalwarts from the third generation (most of them no more today) include Shiv Kumar Shukla, Pandurang Amberkar, Master Navrang, Ramesh Nadkarni and TD Janorikar. We've spoken to the current generation, which came after this.

While some critics claim the bandishes (compositions) of the gharana bear a resemblance to the Gwalior Gharana, the originality of its singing technique stands unrefuted, especially it's improvisation with Meerkhand Gayaki, involving an intricate weaving of laya (rhythmic tonal pattern) and taana (sequences in fast tempo). "Our rendition of the laya resembles a wave," explains exponent Shaila Piplapure, as opposed to a staccato. Another distinctive feature is the presentation of khayal (the rendition of a poem without accompaniment, followed by improvisations on the phrases). Sung in an open voice with the Akar, this demands immense breath control. "There's a lot of stress on pronunciation," says Shubha Joshi, another renowned artist from the gharana. Joshi adds that the improvisation allowed, more than most other gharanas, grants the students a versatility required to adapt to semi classical or even hindi film music. While many of the gharana's exponents have sung playback for the movies, the soundest testaments to this observation are Lata Mangeshkar and Manna Dey, who've trained under Aman Ali Khan. Two more distinguishing features, are the inclusion of Carnatic ragas in the repertoire and, as per renowned vocalist Meenaxi Mukherji "the quality of composition lent to Hindu devotional music".



The question of continuity, foxing many a gharana today, sounds particularly ominous here. Why? It's stalwarts have often refrained from public performances, thus leaving the gharana largly unpublicised. Some have had the misfortune of an untimely death (Aman Ali Khan for one), leaving behind fewer disciples than the other gharanas. There is an organised effort by these disciples. Suhasini Kolatkar, for instance, has besides singing, taught, organized annual conferences and documented the gharana's history. Piplapure and Joshi have taught too, and are willing to do so again. "Patience" however, is what every guru of today finds lacking in his or her shishya of generation next. Tradition demands a disciple stay at his mentor's house and give 10 to 12 years to be able to master this art enough to evolve it. But while the women in the profession often have to re-prioritize their career plans to look after spouse and child, the men have to do the same to be able to earn for such. "Giving too many singing lessons ruins the teacher's voice," says Joshi, who has chosen to remain a spinster to be able to dedicate herself to music completely. "Yet I've seen many a talented male singer do just that to be able to earn his bread."

The same 'patience' lacks in today's young listener, who has little time to cultivate a taste in music he cannot understand within the minute. While CDs of this music do today travel as far as France, this makes one wonder where the sales of this gharana (as some others) will lie tomorrow. 'Amar' (meaning immortal), ironically, was the pen name Aman Ali Khan used while composing his bandishes. But compositions, even those of genius, cannot live alone.