It was raining plaudits all through the rain-washed Sunday evening that saw sitar maestro Kushal Das, superbly supported by tabla wizard Subhankar Banerjee, as the sole artiste of a baithak to mark the occasion of Guru Purnima. Overflowing with musicians, headed by an overwhelmed Buddhadev Dasgupta, who exclaimed that he would love to be born again here in Bengal only to learn from both Subhankar and Kushal, the event organised at South Kolkata’s Ankur by Kalashree was literally submerged in the depths of Miyan Malhar, Megh and a Khamaj-based raagmala followed by a beautiful gat-composition.
While listening to the sitar’s intimate, soulful melody, one was compelled to think that though a raga emerges out from a particular set of swaras, commonly used by all; the swara, actually, is a reach into the inner core of the musician where he feels the glowing presence of its residing deity. It is this journey which is at once physical and psychological. The twain raises it to the empirical level where no two individuals (read artistes) are the same. And that is the winning point of an artiste of Hindustani classical music, an art that is rooted in improvisation-based instant creativity.
A candid conversation revealed that despite being born in a family of musicians, Das has traversed an arduous, meandering path to attain this ability to virtually see the mysterious interiors of the raga through its swaras. His grandfather Bimal Chandra Das was a renowned esraj player; his father Shailen Das was a disciple of Pandit Ravi Shankar and Lakshman Bhattacharya (an almost unknown sitarist who literally went ‘mad’ for music); his sitar exponent uncle Shantanu Das was a disciple of Ustad Ali Akbar Khan. Though they initiated little Kushal to sitar playing when he was barely five, none of the elders forced the boy to take classical music seriously; instead they let him enjoy fiddling with their sitars by playing film songs and lively tunes!
Excerpts:
Did fiddling with sitars make you a nimble-fingered artiste that you are today?
Maybe, but when I suddenly realised where my goal was, I became serious. Apart from learning from my father and uncle, I was guided by Pandit Sanjoy Banerjee of Imdadkhani gharana. But soon he left Kolkata to join Khairagarh University as a professor; I was rudderless and sought refuge under the able wings of Pandit Ajoy Sinha Roy, a disciple of Baba Alauddin Khan and an extremely erudite musician belonging to Maihar School, the gharana that my father and uncle belonged to. Though in those days Sanjoy-da too played the traditional Kharaj-Pancham sitar, this exposure to two different styles gave me a much wider spectrum. Also, to understand the gayaki ang, I began taking vocal lessons from Pandit Manas Chakraborty. By this time I fell in love with Pandit Nikhil Banerjee’s style of playing and started shadowing him, both literally and figuratively. This new dimension, as we all know, is greatly inspired by Ustad Amir Khan’s vocalism.
Then, you are the best person to define the differences of these two styles!
I am more comfortable when my sitar does the talking (smiles); because I find it difficult to describe music in words. Ustad Vilayat Khan hailed from the Imdadkhani gharana; but he remodelled his own sitar with Gandhar and Pancham as main baaj-strings that replaced the olden Kharaj-Pancham. This brought a sea change in the technique and its aural effect. This facilitated the khayal oriented super-fine nuances that emanated from Khan Saheb’s playing. Conversely, Pandit Ravi Shankar adhered to the Dhrupad ang. His sitar was shorter and had an extra tumba at the other end which makes the base strings more effective during the elaborate aalap.
Technique-wise, Panditji explored heavily ornate vertical moves of tantrakari with great facility in which krintans played a major role; but Khansaheb preferred horizontal movements better. He loved to get the most out of one single fret by applying meend, murki, khatka — a la Khayal vocalism. Panditji’s melodic phrases display thrilling mathematical precision while Khan Saheb’s melodic permutations, very much like Ustad Amir Khan’s music, seem to search for poignant phrases. Pandit Nikhil Banerjee’s Maihar technique led by Amirkhani psyche, therefore, blended both the styles with telling effect.
How did you evolve your musical individuality?
As I said, there was a point when I tried to imitate Nikhil-kaka with all my might and I thought it worked for me rather well; but then I was ticked off by well-meaning veterans, who encouraged me to evolve my own musical persona by finding a different vista. Since then I tried to imbibe whatever I could from all the three greats, formed my own melodic syntax; to which I also incorporated some aspects of my father’s guru Lakshman Bhattacharya; especially his Arati jhala — a unique concept using tarab and chikari strings sans mizrab, which sound like jingling temple bells; hence the name Arati.
With Kalyanjit’s success, you are fast emerging as a successful guru as well!
Yes, I love to teach; it helps to evolve as a performer; and why only my son-disciple? There are several other youngsters who are progressing well. But, yes, Kalyanjit is there with me 24x7, and that makes a lot of difference, no doubt. Even when he was a little baby, he loved to lie quietly in my lap during my riyaz sessions which continued for hours. I initiated him to sitar when he was four and very soon realized that he could play without much effort; almost naturally.
