

There is no place more serene and peaceful than the world of arts and culture, says Zakir Hussain
Acclaimed tabla maestro Ustad Zakir Hussain underplayed the Padmaavat controversy, dubbing it as media hype, over-emphasised for “TRPs and to sell the newspapers”.
“There are more important issues at hand like environment that deserve more coverage,” he said on the sidelines of Zee Jaipur literature Festival, while also urging people to concentrate on the issues of hygiene and healthcare.
Hussain participated in a session titled, A life in music where he spoke at length about his early days as well as his tryst with music and the core values that have gone into shaping his perspective on life as well as music.
He said that the Padmaavat controversy will die down once the film goes out of the theatres but crying issues of environment, health and hygiene are not receiving the emphasis from the media that they should. “If we believe in Saare jahan se acha Hindustan hamara, we should keep our homes and our country clean. We must keep our entire country clean because it is our home. We should ensure that when our children go out, they are not infected by germs and this can only happen when the country is clean,” he maintained.
He also cited several examples from his own life to stress that the practitioners of arts and culture should not be distracted by financial issues. “There will be ups and downs but ultimately he (God) will provide,” said the 66-year-old.
Added he, “Musicians cannot change the world but once you go to a concert, you forget all the worldly tensions. You are at peace. Music is the connecting dot between the aatma and the parmatma (the soul and the god). It doesn’t matter what is happening around, no matter what chaos we are living in, but there is no place more serene and peaceful than the world of arts and culture. We should all uphold it.” He also urged the people to enjoy everyone’s success as their own. “Only then can there be joy for everyone.”
We all are familiar with the magic he creates with his fingers but very few are aware that he was once being considered to play the role of the young Salim in yesteryears movie Mughal-e-Azam.
He revealed, “I was actually being looked upon, under the microscope, to play the role of young Salim in Mughal-e-Azam.”
He went on to provide a rare peak into his past, “My father (the legendary tabla player Alla Rakha) was working at the Mohan Studio during those days and they were shooting for the song Pyar kia toh darna kya and I was there. At that time the possibility of me playing the role of young Salim in the movie was explored. “I was presented to Dilip Kumar and he looked at me, then said ‘thik hai kal baat karte hain’ (Okay, we’ll discuss it tomorrow). But before that my father found out and became really angry. He said that I was meant to play tabla and thus, I never played the role of Salim,” Hussain told a packed audience on the first day of JlF 2018.
“It was a blessing in disguise,” maintained Hussain. And why not, if one looks at the long way that he has come ever since. Cinema’s loss was music’s gain.
He recalled during the session that it is customary for Indian fathers to say a little prayer in the ear of their just-born children. When Hussain was presented to his father, “he stuck his lips to my ear” and instead of the prayer, he played a rhythm.
He also recalled that his upbringing was a journey through many faiths and it is perhaps because of that, that he said: “Yes, I am a Muslim but through my music, I am offering my prayers to Saraswati and to Ganesha.”
By the time, Hussain turned three, his father set him free and, in his own words, “just let me go”. The idea was “to let me find my calling”, he said. Quite naturally, he chose the tabla. In the self-leaning mode, by the time he was nine-years-old, he was playing in school concerts. “It was then my father asked me if I wanted to (formally) learn the tabla. I said yes and then the practice began, next day at three in the morning,” he recalled. “And there he was, God himself, my father. When the rest of the world was sleeping, me and my father would be practising early in the morning from three to six. Who wouldn’t want that kind of a conversation with his father,” he asked the audience. As per his usual routine, he would practice and then go to play cricket with his friends, return and listen to the radio and then practise again. “It was like reading a book, totally out of passion and according to my convenience,” he maintained.
He would go to a madrasa to learn the Quran and then cross the road to a nearby church to sing hymns. “But never at any point, neither the mulla or the priest impressed upon me that what they were preaching was the sole truth. Those were really different times,” he quipped.