As a Sufi tradition, qawwali is one of the most vibrant ways to amalgamate different cultures in the subcontinent – a ray of light in a society which is plagued by violence, sectarianism and intolerance. With qawwal Amjad Sabri’s brutal death in Karachi, famous qawwals around the country remember the progressive voice that Pakistan has lost and describe it as a loss more for humanity than his home country. “I was shocked as he grew in front of me. It is a testimony of barbarism as Islam only preaches peace and one who is killing in its name is befooling others,” says Nazeer Ahmed Khan Warsi, a leading qawwal from the Warsi brothers group based in Hyderabad. Another major Sufi exponent Chand Nizami who sings qawwali at the Dargah of Nizamuddin Aulia, calls the death as shahadat (sacrifice) which the pure soul has given in the auspicious month of Ramzan. “I was at the recording when the news came and I felt like something inside me has died. Although it is the will of Allah to call his good follower to him, but the way it happened was shameful for the whole humanity,” laments Nizami.
Amjad Sabri's demise has instilled a sense of hopelessness in progressive thinkers. “Sufi tradition has taught us tolerance and love and that is the reason Islam spread in the subcontinent through Sufis. It is very unfortunate that the same Sufis are facing the wrath of extremists in both countries,” reflects Warsi on the growth of hardline extremism within South Asia.
As modern day artists have commercialised Sufi music, there are few like Amjad Sabri, who continued the family legacy and still made qawwali relevant for the youngsters whose ears are increasingly gravitating towards electronic music. “There are many new artists who are making tasteless songs for clubs in the name of Sufi but qawwali is rooh ki gizaa (food for soul) which one can only get in mehfil-e-sama. Amjad was one of those artists who refused to dilute the form and continued singing qawwali the way it was taught to us by our forefathers,” says Warsi who is the grandson of Padma Shri Aziz Ahmed Khan Warsi.
Born in Karachi, Amjad Sabri was the member of the Sabri group, which was started by the late Ghulam Farid Sabri and his younger brother Haji Maqbool Ahmed Sabri. They were the ones who took qawwali to the West in the 1970s by performing in New York’s Carnegie Hall.
“We were good family friends as our fathers were very fond of each other. But our friendship grew much closer when we both performed at the Bay area in the US. He even stopped his ongoing concert to welcome me and read a couplet to which the whole audience clapped. That was his way of winning the other’s heart. I deeply remember the kindness he bestowed on me by having lunch with me at Mehran, a Pakistani restaurant in the US,” recalls Chand Nizami.
For Nazeer Warsi, he was a child who grew up in front of him.
“They (Sabri Brothers) are like family to us. I first met Amjad during a visit to Karachi. He was 19 then and used to play football. His father late Ghulam Farid Sabri sahib used to call my grandfather ‘huzoor’ as a mark of respect. They both became friends while performing Hajj. I have lost a jovial younger brother who lived his life for other people by spreading love,” says Warsi.
Known for famous qawwalis such as “Bhar Do jholi”, “Tajdar-e-Haram” and “Man Kunto Maula”, Amajd Sabri made news in India when he reportedly took on the producers of Bajrangi Bhaijaan for using “Bhar Do Jholi” in the voice of Adnan Sami.
He last performed in Delhi at the Pakistan High Commission in September last year during the Shaan-e-Pakistan event where he mesmerized everyone with his voice, humility and sense of humour.
“He arrived energetically in a kurta pajama with Sanam Agha, a designer from Pakistan and I escorted him to the stage where he performed after only having a black coffee. As a fan, I found him jovial and spontaneous in conversation and a very kind soul,” remembers Omair Iftikhar, who escorted Sabri in Delhi.
