Spic Macay, IGNCA and NDMC paid a fitting tribute to the singing sensation, Gaan Saraswati Kishori Amonkar at an elegant memorial concert held at the Nehru Park last Friday. The venue was appropriate; in recent years, the reigning Queen of vocal Hindustani music had sung a record six times at the famed Music in the Park Series at the Nehru Park organised by Rashmi Malik of Spic Macay.
What really mattered to Kishori tai was the title of “Gaan Saraswati”, as it linked her to Goddess Saraswati, the goddess of music, and was given to her by the Shankaracharya.A deeply devout woman, she was fittingly saluted by her close friend and senior by a few years, Girija Devi who movingly sang four bhajans as a prayer for “unki atma ki shanti ke liye” (for peace to the departed soul).
A visably moved Girija Devi admitted that this was the first time she had ever paid a musical tribute to a younger artist. Despite frail health and being sick the thumri queen insisted on paying tribute through music to “her younger sister”.A few years earlier, Kishori Amonkar had insisted on paying a musical tribute to on Girija Devi’s 85th birthday celebration in Varanasi. The most appropriate tribute by an artist is, of course, through his or her music.
Girija Devi heaped tributes on the late singer. “She was the type of singer who is born after 5,000 years,” she said. She added that despite being of such an independent nature creatively, Amonkar kept the vocal heritage she inherited from her mother intact. “Apni ma ki gayeki ko khub sambhaala.”
She recalled that when she was presenting the Kal Ke Kalaakar Award to Amonkar in 1947, India had just lost Roshanara Begum who had migrated to Pakistan. On hearing Amonkar sing, Girija Devi realised that India had found Roshanara Begum’s replacement in the young Kishori.
Girija Devi said some people thought Kishori was rough but “woh jante nahi the ki andar se bahut naram thi (nobody knew she was very soft and gentle inside).”
Kishori Amonkar
Much has been unfairly said about her arrogance, her volatility; none really chose to go beneath the surface and see her for the genius that she was, which manifested itself emotionally.
Her infamous “temper” was actually the natural expression of a very justified anger if she or her art was belittled in any way. In person she was extremely humble about her music, affable and was always ready to share any musical inputs. Her house in Mumbai was open to any genuine student of music.
Girija Devi started with an Aiman bhajan by Namdev, then Kabir’s “log kahe ghar mera”, then a Meera bhajan, ending with a composition to Shiva by Pt Devi Sahai of the Banaras tabla gharana, in Raga Bhairavi. The evening had started with a poignant rendering of Amonkar’s most popular Raga Bhupali by her long-time disciple Nandini Bedekar. The familiar strains brought back memories of the great singer.
This was followed by Raghunandan Pansikar’s rendering of another raga closely associated with the doyen — Anand Malhar, followed by a bhajan. He is indeed a worthy torch-bearer of her musical legacy. Anyone who has ever seen Amonkar in concert, knows that she completely withdrew into herself while singing.
No one who was present that day about 40 years ago in Vrindavan at Nidhivan (at the samadhi of Swami Haridas) can forget the atmosphere she created when she sang “mharo pranam, Banke Bihariji”; there was barely a dry eye in her audience.
Raghunandan Pansikar was accompanying her on the tamboora that day, and he too wept. The playing of a clip from Amonkar’s last concert at the Nehru Park, Raga Kamod was broadcast, lulling the audience into a reverential silence.
Then her close associates started paying tributes to her memory, starting with the co-host IGNCA’s Sachidanand Joshi. His recitation of his thoughts on her was followed by Pt Rajan Mishra lamenting her demise. N.K. Singh, a devoted fan who had held several private baithaks of Amonkar at his house revealed that his “survival kit” in dealing with her loss was playing her tapes of music throughout the day.
Ustad Amjad Ali Khan said that Amonkar was like his elder sister, and her demise was like the loss of a family member. He reminisced that he had had the privilege of honouring her mother, Mogubai Kurdikar, by bestowing on her the award instituted in the name of his father Ustad Hafiz Ali Khan. For Kishori Amonkar, music was not entertainment. It was not to be sung to attract any audience.
She had once said, “When the sur comes out of my inner being, my body will disappear. I pray to God that I die that way”. Her Maker had answered her appeal; she had passed away in her sleep, a reigning queen of sur till the end.
