“Y eh koi Zindagi hoti hain? (Can you call this life?)”, a nine-year-old Zila asked her father, Vilayat Khan. The sitar maestro was taken aback for a moment. But he could feel his daughter’s grief; how it is to grow up in a house that reverberates with music and yet not be allowed to learn the art form. Only because, the society that Zila grew up in did not encourage girls to learn classical music. But Zila was madly in love with music. She used to learn the bandishes secretly, without her father’s knowledge, while he took classes for the boys. Finally, the Ustad decided to go against all conventions, and teach her music. “Ï will teach you like how I will teach a son,” he told her.
Years have passed since that morning. And, today Zila Khan is Ustad Maa Zila Khan, a well known name in Sufi music. She has come to the city to perform at Isha Yoga Centre. When I go to meet her backstage after her performance, she is enveloped by friends, fans and followers. “Your music was so spiritual.” “Can I take a photo with you?” “You are effervescent!”; praises do not stop. She responds to all with one question, “Did you sing and dance along with me?” Because, no one sits still in a Zila Khan concert. She ensures that she and her team delivers a soul stirring performance.
“I love it when the audience grooves to your music. The essential quality of Sufi music is to be expressive. Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan himself is a great example.”
Even though her concert weaves in contemporary influences and Western instruments, Zila owes her skill to the strong classical music foundation. “Classical music is little like algorithm. It is the basic for any kind of music. I am thankful for the rigorous riyaaz sessions my father put me through. I used to practise for 14 to 16 hours a day.”
About her relationship with her father, Zila says she questioned him as a daughter. “But he was a brilliant guru and strict too. If I was not in class at eight in the morning, he wouldn’t teach me! And, I was like a computer for him. He would wake me up in the middle of the night and teach me a bandish. And the next morning I had to repeat it.”
Zila feels her music is unpretentious and honest. “There are no high or low fundas. There are no trimmings to it.” And she, as a person, is equally brazen; especially when she speaks of the gender inequality in the field. “Women were not given the ustad title. Even Kishori Amonkar was not awarded it. Instead, they used to be called ‘begum’, ‘shrimathi’ and ‘kumari’, which were connected with their marital status and had nothing to do with their contributions to the field of music.”
But, Zila has broken this age old tradition. She is the first Sufi artist to be conferred with the title, Ustad. “Earlier, there was no awareness. A woman’s duty was considered just to be a wife and mother. That cannot be. One needs to find their kriya in life,” says Zila. This is not the first time that Zila has visited Isha. It keeps calling her back, she says. According to her, “it is Secular Divine”. Just like her concert, filled with poems and chants to pirs, gurus, and Shiva. “This is the real India. Actual India is secular. We have naturally learnt to live with each other, our food and culture. For instance, just look at this group. Can an outsider tell which religion each of us belongs to?” she asks.
And Hindustani music tradition itself is a great example of this co-existence, she says. “It originated from the shastras and was practised by people in the Northern belt, including the Muslims in the country. And, the Mughal rulers patronised it.”
One of her favourite musician is Akka Mahadevi, the rebel poet from the South. “Could you sing one of her poems for us?” her friend asks her. She shuts her eyes, clears her throat and mike less fills the still night with her deep throated rendition. The interview is over because my pen has stopped moving.
