The pandits of Gwalior played an integral role in building the foundations of Hindustani music. By Shailaja Khanna
Gwalior has an unparalleled status in the word of Hindustani music; the senior most gharana from which all other vocal gharanas trace their roots. Even before that, the Gwalior rulers were noted patrons of music – this tradition can be traced back to Raja Man Singh Tomar of Gwalior, a great patron of music, who is said to have had several Nayaks (acknowledged masters of music) in his Court. These included Nayak Baiju (now celebrated as Baiju Bawra) Nayak Bakhshu, Nayak Karan, Nayak lohang and of course Tansen before he moved to Akbar’s court. Tansen, regarded as the father of Hindustani music of whom it is said “bhuto na bhavishyati” (there never was, nor ever will be one like him) learnt music in Gwalior and his tomb is still a place of worship. lashkar, the original capital of Gwalior State was the cultural capital of India at the time.
Dr Meeta Pandit, the fifth generation representative of the pandits of Gwalior, has written a fascinating account of the musical tradition of Gwalior in a book entitled India’s Heritage of Gharana Music – Pandits of Gwalior, published by Shubhi Publications, and released in January at the Jaipur literary festival. Full of interesting anecdotes, hitherto unpublished photos of masters of Gwalior gayaki and extremely well researched, the book has been divided into five chapters. The first chapter deals with the history of the musical tradition of Gwalior and the second on the taalim(training) of the pandit family from the Ustads. The third chapter highlights the salient aspects of Gwalior gayaki. The fourth chapter, mainly focuses on the pandits, giving details of their lives rambles somewhat as it repeats many facts of the older masters but is still an invaluable account; the last chapter gives details of the contribution of the pandit family; their disciples, written records, the academy of music set up in Gwalior and much else. Original hand written compositions, and memories make this book unique.
Dr Pandit has taken great care to see the book is not an intellectual, dry read, written only for the cognoscenti. The book is written for the general public as much as for a trained student of music. She writes, “it was said that when a baby in Gwalior cried, even that was in sur.” Music was such an integral part of people’s lives, that ragas and compositions were pawned openly and even acknowledged as being pawned. One would have to pay the holder of the raga in cash before one could sing it.
The book is invaluable as it gives authentic facts on historical musicians, passed down from generation to generation. Shah Sadarang, regarded as the most prolific composer of khayals, also known as Niamat Khan, was the court musician with Mohammed Shah Rangile in Delhi (1719-1748). There is a wonderful account in the first chapter on how he originally composed khayals – today the most prolific format of presenting Hindustani vocal music. The Emperor ordered that the been (veena) should accompany the dhrupad vocalists. Niamat Khan took this as an insult; as the direct descendant of Mian Tansen’s daughter, he felt it would be an insult to allow his family’s instrument to accompany vocalists. So, he disobeyed the Emperors instructions and as a result had to flee the court. To regain favour, he composed songs, with lyrics praising the Emperor. The style was more poetic and lyrical (later these were called khayals, meaning thoughts) and his disciples sang these before the Emperor, who was bewitched and wanted to meet the composer. Accordingly Niamat Khan was called and forgiven and regained his position in the court.
Interestingly, it is said, according to Dr Pandit, that he himself never sang these new compositions as he was a beenkar (veena player) nor did he teach his sons; he only composed them to please the emperor. Today there are hundreds of khayals attributed to Shah Sadarang and his son (some say brother) Adarang; apparently many later composers added the pen name of Sadarang and Adarang to their own compositions to popularise them; Dr Pandit writes it is very easy for a true student, groomed in the authentic tradition, to distinguish the fakes, as the style, taal and note layout are unmistakable.
Another interesting account is how Pt Bhatkhande compiled his book of compositions from Gwalior. His books on music today are regarded as authoritative, and his lineation of the thaat system (groupings of ragas) accepted in colleges all over North India. But the loopholes are visible — Dr Meeta Pandit recounts how Pt Bhatkhande went to Gwalior in 1915 and asked Pt Shankar Rao Pandit, her great grandfather, for compositions to include in the book he was writing.
Pt Shankar suggested he learn the compositions first and then notate them. Bhatkhande refused, as he was in a hurry, and went instead to Pt Eknath Pandit in Bombay and persuaded him to notate some compositions, which took several days. The final results were never shown to Pt Eknath Pandit, who was shocked to see the distorted versions of the compositions in Pt Bhatkhande’s book when it was released.
The original structure of the bandishes “was changed to fit it into the form of the raga as per Bhatkhandeji’s interpretation.” Dr Meeta Pandit writes, Sadarang’s compositions included various aspects of the raga, not just the simple obvious facets; this could only be understood by a serious student of music. As such, Bhatkhande took unforgivable liberties with the compositions he was entrusted with.
Truly, the world of music today owes much to the Gwalior tradition of patronage; the importance given to musicians was great, and they were held in high esteem in society, resulting in the development of the traditions and nurturing them for future generations. The book is indeed a must read for anyone interested in Hindustani classical music.
(The author writes on music, musicians and matters of music)