The legendary shehanai maestro, a man of tenderness, a man who believes in remaining private and who believes that musicians are supposed to be heard and not seen.
The legend was born on 21 March 1916. His ancestors were court musicians in the princely state of Dumraon in Bihar and he was trained under his uncle, the late Ali Buksh ‘Vilayati’, a shehnai player attached to Varanasi’ s Vishwanath Temple. It was Khan Sahib who poured his heart out into Raga Kafi from Red Fort on the eve of India’s first Independence Day ceremony.
Where others see conflict and contradiction between his music and his religion, Bismillah Khan sees only a divine unity. Music, sur, namaaz is the same thing. His namaaz is the seven shuddh and five komal surs. Even as a devout Muslim, Khan Sahib is also a staunch devotee of Saraswati, the Hindu goddess of music. His honorary doctorate from the Benaras Hindu University and Shantiniketan bespeaks of his fame.
Bismillah Khan has been bequeathed with the Sangeet Natak Academi Award, the Tansen Award of the Madhya Pradesh government and also the prestigious Padma Vibhushan. He has played in Afghanistan, Europe, Iran, Iraq, Canada, West Africa, USA, USSR, Japan, Hong Kong and almost every capital city across the world. His music is an ocean and he feels that he has barely reached the shore after 81 years of his life and his search is still incomplete.
In the words of Khan Saheb—”Music, sur, namaz. It is the same thing. We reach Allah in different ways. A musician can learn. He can play beautifully. But unless he can mix his music with religion, unless he strives to meet God, he will only have kala (art) but no assar (mystical union). He will always stand at the ocean and never reach the heights of purity.”
When he laughs, the ground shakes. At 90, he is an immensely handsome man with a princely beard and eyes which glint with boyish mischief. There is nothing about him that bespeaks his fame—his honorary doctorates, his Padma Shri, Padma Vibhushan, his concerts in almost every capital around the world, his dozens of best-selling record albums.
On India’s first Independence Day ceremony it was Khan Sahib who poured his heart out in Raga Kaafi from the Red Fort. On a more pop level it was Khan Sahib who composed that magic film number ‘Dil ka khilauna hai toot gaya’ for the film Goonj Uthi Shehnai. He has made money but spent it just as fast. He supports nearly 100 relatives, including 10 children.
His house in Varanasi, in Sarai Hara, is an ample but decrepit structure. His living room which also serves as guest room, is sparsely furnished with creaky wooden benches and a large takht on which, at given time of the day, his children perform namaaz, oblivious of guests and visitors. Still in incessant demand as a player he travels by train regularly with his troupe, often by second class. He hates to fly. And when travel arrangements are being made, the house buzzes with activity as instruments are laid out, ancient steel trunks and torn British Airways flight-bags are packed with clothes and lunch boxes stuffed with rice and samosas.
This great music lengend awarded Bharat Ratna in 2002.
