The instructions on the board said:
Do not throw litter, use dustbin
Do not walk on grass, use cemented surface
Photography is allowed
Not an amusement park, or a museum or a botanical garden. This was at the Wagah border, instructions for everyone, including passengers on “foot” coming into or going out of India to Pakistan. Seems really innocuous after all the papers, permissions, waiting, angst and agony this kind of going across — as opposed to taking a flight or the bus — could really entail. On that I scored, given the general love that all kinds of people share for music and poetry in both countries. Really, culture needs to be taken more seriously, it cannot be just another Track on some Indo-Pak peace agenda.
Invited recently to perform by the Faiz Ghar as part of events for the launch of the centenary celebrations of the phenomenal poet Faiz Ahmed Faiz, my trip to Lahore was a mix of exciting, pleasant, emotional and strange experiences. Faiz Ghar itself is an eclectic space set up in memory of Faiz to celebrate and express the culture of the country through dance, music, plastic arts, theatre and, of course, poetry.
Tracing the journey of music
My engagement with North Indian music genres generally has me interested in the travels of musicians at least in the last century and the transference of music across these countries. So this opportunity to perform in Lahore was indeed an honour I was happy to accept. Pakistan has also had a rich history of classical music and in fact it was in Lahore in the early 20th century that some of the best musicians of South Asia performed to very interested listeners. Partition, and with it the need to establish a separate identity, affected culture severely. So much so that it is said legendary Kirana exponent Roshanara Begum, who migrated to Pakistan, announced that she will give up her Riaz since it seemed like no one was interested in listening to her in the country and Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan decided to return to India. Also, with Partition, several Gharanedaar Muslim musicians moved to India and so did their future Hindu and Sikh patrons. Except for Radio Pakistan, music was hardly ever heard. The setting up of the All Pakistan Music Conference (APMC) way back in 1959 came in response to this situation and made it possible for yearning audiences to listen to greats like Nazakat Ali Khan, Salamat Ali Khan, Amanat Ali Khan, Fateh Ali Khan and Barkat Ali Khan. These were some serious efforts to rejuvenate the seemingly lost but rich heritage of classical music in Pakistan. These concerts and seminars are held even now.
Flourishing industry
A senior Professor at the beautiful red brick campus of the National College of Arts (NCA) tells me there is a lot of music in Pakistan now, particularly several emerging pop groups as well as Qawwali, Ghazal, but not so much of classical music which seems to be most hit by the loss of patronage and more so with State interference. Interesting this, since the NCA, which looks so much like the North campus of Delhi University, runs a course in Ethnomusicology and not in music, one discipline that we do not get to see so much in India. Of course, Qawwali and Ghazal have been very important contributions from the country, their popularity and acceptance perhaps due to their Islamic and language affiliations.
I also walked down the narrow labyrinthine alleys of Heera Mandi. Until a few years back, Heera Mandi in the walled city of Lahore acclaimed for its musical heritage, now shows up on search engines as Pakistan's Sex industry. It boasted a rich tradition of classical music and indeed many famous singers, Tawaifs, were groomed and trained in its chambers. The place, despite the squalor, the dirt and the smells, is charged with an atmosphere pulsating and electric. It now comes alive with dancing to “item” songs from Hindi movies. Like tunnels through mountains, the paths are dark and musty but some of the old houses still remain, taking you briefly into another period of time in history. To add to this old world feeling are the several shops of Tabla and Ghungroo makers in practically every gali. But a lot has changed (just as is the case in North India) and most women have now moved to the modern areas of Lahore like Defense and Gulberg.
Contradictory trend
It is a curious situation where classical music has not quite come out of questions of cultural identity, its discordance with Islam, and is still to regain its form and splendour while pop music is becoming very visible and is thriving.
All of these questions, particularly of identity, become very confusing and complex in my interaction with people in Lahore; I go to the Dera Saheb Gurudwara, situated opposite Lahore Fort near Badshahi Mosque. I am told I cannot enter since Muslims are not allowed here. How did they know I am one, when I am not one! At the CD shops, most of which sell pirated CDs, when I ask for Mansoor Niazi's Qawwali, they haven't heard of him and instead show me CDs of Qawwalis from old Hindi films. And at Salim's in Liberty Market, the salesman suggests that I look at cloth-materials while my Shauhar (very perplexed at this suggestion), can do the Jumme-ki-Namaaz and come back.
My gracious host requests me to begin with a Khayal, as she says people would love to but do not get to hear it live so much. And of course also sing some of Begum Akhtar, of whom she has fond memories of listening to live in her childhood.
A beautiful city, overwhelming warmth and hospitality. But I was confused. Should I feel like a stranger or should I feel at home?
As Faiz sahib so eloquently says:
hum ke thairey ajnabi itni madaraatoon ke baadphir banain gain aashnaa kitni mulaqatoon ke baad
After those many encounters, that easy intimacy, we are strangers now
After how many meetings will we be that close again? (Translation: Agha Shahid Ali).
