Y eh dunya aani jaani dekhi. Har cheez yahan ki faani dekhi. Jo aaye aur na jaaye woh budhapa dekha, aur jo jaaye aur na aaye woh javaani dekhi. (This world I have seen, come and go. All things in it are impermanent. Thus is what goes and never leaves, called old age, and that which leaves and never returns, youth).
Thunderous applause and ‘wah wah’s’ filled the air when the octogenarian ushered-in his 85th birthday three years ago in a packed mehfil , with these words of Ghalib, one of his favourite poets.
His youthful exuberance reflected in every ‘taan’ and ‘meend,’ every raga was rekindled by his luminous spirit, just as the verses towering Sufi Persian and Urdu poets that escaped his ever-smiling lips when he reflected on life, love, God and music.
Being in his presence, either at his humble Mumbai home, or at a concert, was like bathing one’s spirit with legendary Persian poet Omar Khayyam’s ‘wine’ - the bliss of spirit. It was as if Khayyam’s words summed up the Ustad’s life “hengaam e gol o mol ast wa yaaraan sarmast, khosh baash dami ke zendegaani in ast” (with friends, flowers and wine, be glad every moment for that is life).
Born in Madhya Pradesh in 1927, Khansaheb hailed from the Indore Bande Ali Beenkar tradition. Surprisingly, though most gharanas trace their origins to the Senia school of Miya Tansen, Khansaheb claimed allegiance to no gharana, not even Senia.
“In music, the only true gharana is the Rigved and in life, love.” I can never forget his golden words: “Yaad rakhna beta, pyaar muhabbat ke siva aur koi gharana nahin” during a rare interview.
Tabla and sitar stalwart Pt. Nayan Ghosh, who was closely associated with Khansaheb, remembers him fondly. “Khansaheb was one of the most important sitar maestros of the 20th Century. Khansaheb developed his own technique, which he employed to evolve the ‘Jafferkhani Baaj,’ he explains, adding that his style was known for its sprightliness, layakari, speed, clarity, sudden surprises, and he played amazing taans across octaves.
“He even played racy taans on the ‘kharaj’ and ‘laraj’ bass strings which were generally meant for alaps. This was typical to his style,” he continues. Pandit Ghosh reminisces about Khansaheb’s overwhelming modesty and his affectionate, caring nature, and that he was known to look at the bright side of every musician. “ He was well-read and could quote from diverse literary works. Age never affected his wit and memory. In fact, his liveliness reflected amply in his music too.” Khansaheb, he says, was also one of the first to collaborate with Jazz giants such as Dave Brubeck with my father, Pandit Nikhil Ghosh on the tabla.
His sitar resounded far and wide through his film stints with hits like ‘Goonj Uthi Shehnai,’ ‘Mughal-e-Azam’ and ‘Anarkali’ to name a few.
Khansaheb’s spirituality was based on the Sufi principle, ‘Wahdat al Wujood’ (unity of all existence). He believed that Love was the essence of all faiths. “I recite Surah Fati’ha just as I recite the Gayatri Mantra,” he would say, proudly displaying idols of Krishna, Sharada, Ma and an image of Ramana Maharshi next to that of his Sufi Peer’s mausoleum.
Dhoondna, yeh qaida tha, deir o haram mein tujhe. Magar Pahele laazim tha, apne ghar ke andar dhoondna tujhe. (Seeking you oh Divine, in temples and mosques was a formality. The heart which is your home, is where we ought to seek you first) he would say.