In August 2020 (Yes, I am going
to start just like that, with no explanation or excuse for the blog’s
three-year stasis), I found myself with a day to spare before heading off to
another of my far-flung work locations. I also found myself in Lahore, which is
as good a place as any, if not the best, for those seeking magical,
serendipitous and life-altering experiences.
By a wonderful combination of events, I had found myself in
communication with the son of one of my favorite Qawwals, Agha Rasheed Ahmad Fareedi. He very graciously invited
me to spend a day with him and I readily agreed. The chance to visit Fareedi
Sb’s house and listen to his son narrate stories about him was too good to miss,
so I immediately drove to Lahore, navigated the narrow alleys of Qila Gujar
Singh and found myself in a lovely pre-partition kothi adorned by a marvelous
jharoka, sipping sweet, hot tea and being regaled with stories of the late,
great Qawwal. Luckily, I had enough wits about me to record the conversation,
otherwise I would have forgotten half of the wonderful, and at times
unbelievable stories I heard that day. Stories which proved that not only was
Fareedi Sb a larger-than-life Qawwal, he was a larger-than-life person in all
other respects as well. A rabble-rouser, trail-blazer, trade-unionist, street-fighter
of a qawwal, who passed away at the very peak of his creative powers.
The wonderful conversation was
worth the four-hundred-kilometer round-trip, but the icing on the cake was when
Fareedi Sb’s son brought out a large album full of photographs and press
cuttings. Several times during the next few hours, I had to lift my jaw off the
floor as I saw one historical photograph after another, and one astonishing
press clipping / interview / performance review after another. With the host’s
kind permission, I photographed all the photos and clippings, which, along with
the audio of that day’s conversations, and a remarkable handwritten family
history of the Fareedi clan, will one day prove invaluable when I vanquish the
demons of laziness and begin writing about Qawwali in earnest. What I can do for now is
write about a particular subset of photos and news clippings that chronicled a
rare, momentous event that is forgotten today.
At the start of 1960s, Agha
Rasheed Ahmad Fareedi was one of the most exciting young Qawwals in the
subcontinent. As the star student of Fateh Ali-Mubarak Ali Khan, Fareedi Sb was the crown prince of the Do-aba style of Qawwali
perfected by his ustads. And as behooves a prince, he was brash, proud almost
to the point of arrogance, and ready to take on any and all comers. His combative
approach to qawwali (and indeed, to life) had made him challenge many
established musicians, both from among his seniors, as well as his
contemporaries. During my visit with Fareedi Sb’s son, I heard many tales of
Qawwali competitions or “muqablas” that his late father participated in and
won, including a few where the results had to be decided by fisticuffs.
Nari Contractor (L) and Fazal Mehmood (R) Pakistan's Test tour of India - 1961 |
Shankar Shambhu Qawwal |
Newspaper ad for Wednesday, 21st February |
Newspaper ad for Wednesday 21st February |
Newspaper advertisement for the muqabla on the revised date Saturday, 25th February 1961 |
Newspaper advertisement for the revised date Saturday, 25th February 1961 |
Receiving the Gold Medal from K. Asif |
Receiving the winner's Silver Cup |
In the absence of any live
recordings from the night of the muqabla, we’ll have to make do with the next
best thing. Qawwals in Pakistan and India share a wide repertoire, featuring a large
number of canonical texts. As a result, one can listen to and compare the
renditions of the same kalam by different artists (something that used to be the stock-in-trade of this blog, I’ll be the first to admit). There are a handful of pieces of Qawwali that have been performed by both Fareedi Sb and Shankar
Shambhu Qawwal, and they also happen to be the typical pieces that a
traditional qawwali performance comprises of. With a little bit of imagination,
and in the absence of any setlists to guide us, we can attempt to virtually
reconstruct the muqabla by listening to the two competing groups’ renditions of
the same kalam. And this is where I can explain the second reason for why I
think it was Fareedi Sb and his party who emerged the eventual winners of the
competition. Let the muqabla begin!
1. Qaul – Mun Kunto Maula – Hz Amir Khusrau (RA)
The Qaul is the piece that
traditionally serves as the beginning of the Qawwali performance, so it’s
fitting to begin this virtual muqabla with renditions of Hz Amir Khusrau’s
seminal creation. I have devoted a previous blog-post to
how various artists have put their distinctive stamp on the traditional piece
(eagle-eared readers will find one of these two performances in that piece as well).
The contrast between the two parties’ renditions of the Qaul couldn’t be more
striking. Shankar Shambhu Qawwal sing a beautiful, plaintive and stately Qaul,
with Shankar Qawwal’s superbly sweet voice shining in a plaintive alaap, and in
the brief murki’s he takes during the tarana. It’s a lovely, self-contained
performance that swells and eddies beautifully, before clocking-out at the four-minute
mark.
In his typical brash style, Fareedi
Sb dispenses with all niceties at the very beginning, announcing that other
qawwals know jack-squat and he alone knows the correct way to perform the Qaul. He
will announces that he shall perform the Qaul in Raag Bhopali, in Teen-taal, a rhythmic cycle of 16
beats. What follows is an absolute tour-de-force spanning a quarter of an hour.
Fareedi Sb and Co weave magic with their takraars, the sudden changes in tempo,
and the imperceptibly steady increase in intensity as the piece picks up steam.
In terms of length, Fareedi Sb’s performance is 11 times longer than Shankar
Shambhu’s rendition. In terms of sheer power, it’s at least a hundred times
more potent. The first round of the muqabla goes to the Qawwals from Pakistan.
2. Naat - Sallalaho Alaihi Wasallam – Sharib Lakhnavi / Bedam
Shah Warsi
A hamd or na’at is generally the
second item in a Qawwali performance, and both the Qawwal parties were adept at
performing them. Shankar Shambhu’s na’ats are
superb examples of the genre, cheerful in their arrangements, steeped in
‘aqeedat’ and dripping with musicality. Fareedi Sb’s na’ats
are more plaintive affairs, gradually building to a haal-inducing crescendo and
evoking feelings of love and longing for the Prophet (SAW). The na’at selection
for this ‘muqabla’ recreation is a bit of a cop-out, since I couldn’t find a
na’at in my collection that had been performed by both the parties. I settled
for the next best thing, na’ats that share the same ‘radeef’, the salutation to
the Prophet “Sallalaho Alaihi Wasallam”. Shankar Shambhu Qawwal begin their
rendition with a unique quatrain that praises the Ahl-e-Bait (RA) while
incorporating the verses of Sura-e-Ikhlas, The Quran’s 112th
chapter. It’s a studio-recorded piece, with a beginning, a middle and an end.
Throughout the recording, the bansuri, the clarinet and the sarangi faithfully follow
Shankar Qawwal’s lovely, lilting voice. As with most studio-recorded 3.5-minute
qawwalis, it’s likely a blueprint for an expanded, more elaborate live version.
One can guess where the takraars would be placed in the mehfil performance, but
unfortunately, that is a version that only exists so far in the imagination.
Fareedi Sb’s rendition, once again, is the exact opposite. It’s a mehfil performance that takes its time in unfolding its wonders. The zor-daar sazeena alone is twice the length of the entire Shankar Shambhu rendition. The sound quality is very iffy, and gets scratchier as the recording progresses. The recording also ends abruptly, before the Qawwals have sung the whole na’at through, so we’re left imagining the crescendo that never arrives. The kalam is Bedam Shah Warsi (RA)’s immortal, magical na’at, sharing the same radeef as Sharib Lakhnavi’s na’at as performed by Shankar Shambhu Qawwal. As is his wont, Fareedi Sb turns explores the pathos and longing in Bedam’s verses, embellishing it with Punjabi girahs that lead the listeners to sigh “These are matters are too painful Fareedi Sb, they’re better left unsaid!” The takraars on the second misra’ of the first verse are the stuff of dreams. It’s probably my favorite rendition ever of this superlative na’at, and hands the second round convincingly to Fareedi Sb and Co.
3. Ghazal – Itna Shadeed Gham Hai – Sardar Abdur Rab Nishtar
After the manqabat and the na’at,
the next item on the Qawwali setlist is usually a ghazal with spiritual
undertones. The ghazal sung by both the qawwals is a beautiful one by the
distinguished politician and accomplished poet Sardar Abdur Rab Nishtar. The
mat’la is striking in its simplicity, and the maq’ta presents a uniquely
refreshing take on the concept of redemption and salvation. For a change, Shankar
Shambhu’s performance of this ghazal is not a studio recording, which allows
the brothers some breathing space to showcase the finer aspects of their
performance styles. Shambhu Qawwal gets to ably support his brother’s vocal
flights and taankari with his understated yet melodious voice. Shankar Qawwal
milks the verses for all the emotive elements he can extract, and lets his
voice trill and dive to wonderful effect. He even manages to insert a lovely
girah, which would’ve been impossible in a 3 minute 38 second recording that
would have filled one side of a 78 RPM record. Listening to this rendition, it
appears that the brothers might finally catch up with Fareedi Sb and notch up a
point for their side in the muqabla.
Long before this virtual muqabla made it to the blog, it has been played out repeatedly on my car stereo, with the missus being the impartial judge who usually adjudicates. There was an advantage to getting her opinion on these qawwalis, because she’s not blinkered by admiration for Fareedi Sb as I am (though she is getting there), and so can give her verdict as a lay listener. When I played the Shankar Shambhu version of the ghazal to her for the first time, she agreed with me that it was sung beautifully, and with a lot of feeling. When I played her the version of this ghazal performed by Fareedi Sb and Co, she gave her verdict before the first two minutes of the recording were up. Her words, “There’s more pathos and feeling in Fareedi Sb’s rendition of the word “Itna” than there is in the entire Shankar Shambhu performance.” I couldn’t have said it better myself. The audience’s haye-haye’s and wah-wahs provide additional proof that Fareedi Sb’s delivery, coupled with the intoxicating tarz, are too heady a combination for Shankar Shambhu to match.
4. Rung – Aaj Rung Hai – Hz Amir Khusrau (RA)
The rendition of the Rang
traditionally signals the end of a Qawwali performance, where the Qawwals and
the audience rise from their seated positions and the performance ends in the
recollection of the festival of Basant at the shrine of Hz Nizamuddin Auliya
(RA). The “shajra” or lineage of the Chishti saints is recited as the audience joins
the qawwals in paying their respects to the saints. It’s usually an up-tempo
piece, serving to bookend the qawwali mehfil on a high note. Shankar Shambhu Qawwal,
again saddled with a rather anemic studio recording (please, if any reader has
any mehfil recordings of the brothers, do share), perform a rather
straightforward run-through of the traditional ‘Rung’ as attributed to Hz Amir (RA),
respectfully singing the shajra, with Shankar Qawwal contributing a couple of
lovely, albeit brief taans.
Fareedi Sb’s version begins with
a lovely Purbi dohra, before he launches into the Rung in a mehfil recording.
Unrestricted by the 3-and-a-half-minute limit of a studio recording, he dwells
on each verse for the extra minute or so that lends it extra heft. In what is a
relatively straightforward performance by his standards, the only
embellishments he adds are the names of Hz Pir Mehr Ali Shah (RA) and Baba
Abdul Ghafoor (RA) to the shajra and the takraar at the end of the kalam. It’s
a simple performance, no frills, and a fitting conclusion to this virtual muqabla.
As for the winner of this round, I’m rather undecided and will leave it for the
readers to decide.
I’ll be the first to admit that
the brothers from Aligarh were terribly shortchanged by my only possessing
studio recordings of their performances, thus being unable to present them in
the Qawwal’s natural habitat, a mehfil. Still, a comparison of the above four
recordings bears out the testimony of Fareedi Sb’s son, claiming that it was
his father that actually won the muqabla. Regardless of the eventual winners,
it must have been a once-in-a-lifetime event, and what I wouldn’t give to hear
a recording of it, even a snippet (hint-hint once again, any collectors reading). In the
absence of any recordings from the muqabla, let us be thankful for the precious
few mementoes that remain, the fading newspaper clippings, the carefully preserved photographs, and the oral histories that are slowly disappearing. And lest we forget, it’s through the efforts
of listeners who taped the mehfils, recorded off the radio, or made copies of
the vinyl 78s and EPs, that we are privileged to hear masters of their craft
like Fareedi Sb and Shankar Shambhu Qawwal today. May God bless those that performed, and those that preserved the performances so that we may experience some of the magic, even after all these decades.