Aftab-e-Mousiki Ustad Fayyaz Khan (1881-1950)

B . R. Deodhar

[To mark the occasion of the birth centenctry of Ustad Fayyaz Khan, INe are publishing here an English version of personal reminiscences of Khan Sahib from Prof. B. R. Deodhar's Marathi INOrk Thor Sangitkar -Editor.]

The year- 1 924, I had recently made the acquaintance of Pandit Bhatkhand.e and used to meet him frequently. He would often remark that there were hardly any great musicians left. He said that those Dhrupad and Khyal singers, whom he considered masters, were all dead. In my youthful exuberance, I dismissed his ideas, for I believed that it was typical of the older generation to denigrate young artistes and praise 'old' masters. And one day I did speak out frankly. I said,

"Panditji, you don't seem to like the music of any of the younger performers in this region. Isn't there a single one whom you consider good enough?"

"Listen to Fayyaz Khan of Baroda. Then you will realize what the talim (training) of a gharana means."

Those days Fayyaz Khan was hardly known in Bombay. I had never even seen him. Two years later, around 1926 or 1927, I learnt that Fayyaz Khan was in Bombay. I sought him out and arranged a concert at my music school on a Sunday morning. I had invited several musicians and it was a fairly knowledgeable audience which gathered to listen to him. Khan Sahib began the astai of his Ramakali and soon had the listeners under his spell.

Around the time, several music circles were formed in Bombay and some of them were fairly active. Khan Sahib came to Bombay at least three or four times in a year and there were thus far more opportunities to listen to his music. From 1 935 onwards, I began to attend the Music Conferences held in the North and made it a point never to miss his recitals.

Khan Sahib's Good Fortune Most of the musicians of my acquaintance had suffered privation in their childhood and youth. They had been subjected to an exacting grind by their gurus. But Khan Sahib was exceptiona.lly lucky in this respect: on his father's side, he was the great-grandson of the famous composer Rangile; on his mother's side, he could trace his ancestry to Gagge Khudabaksha, the founder of the Agra gharana. Khan Sahib's first wife was the daughter of Faizmohammed Khan; his second wife was the daughter of Mehaboob Khan, or Darasapiya as he came to be known through his lovely compositions. Ata Husein, who invariably accompanied Khan Sahib, was Mehaboob Khan's son. Khan Sahib himself gave me these details of his lineage. 28 Father's Family Mother's Family

Ramzan Khan (Rangile) Gagge Khudabaksha I Mohammed Ali Khan Gulam Abbas Khan Kallan Khan I I I Sabdar Husain Khan Fayyaz Khan's mother Tasdduk Husain Khan I I Fayyaz Khan (Premapiya) Fayyaz Khan

Thus Khan Sahib vvas born in a family of musicians, vvho had in earlier times sung Dhrupad-dhamar. (Among his great-grandfather's compositions, the better knovvn is So So Bara Balama in the raga Lalit.)

Gagge Khudabaksha, vvho vvas Khan Sahib's great-grandfather (on his mother's side), had been trained by Natthan Pir Baksha in Khyal singing. Natthan Pir Baksha vvas the grandfather of Dada Huddu Khan of Gvvalior. Thus the Agra gharana also ovves a lot to the Gvvalior school of Khyal singing .

Agra is no more than 30 miles from Mathura. The language spoken in the region is Brajabhasha vvhich can be described as Khan Sahib's mother­ tongue . Most of the cheeza-s in North Indian Classical Music are composed in this language. Khan Sahib inherited from his ancestors the gift of com­ position, and he created several beautiful compositions, adopting the name Premapiya.

Happy Childhood Khan Sahib's mother left her husband's home and returned to her father's (Gulam Abbas Khan's) house in Agra . Gulam Abbas Khan had no sons and he doted on his grandson. He began to teach him music vvhen he vvas almost an infant. Well-knovvn musicians often visited the house and the child vvas able to imbibe a great deal from them. As a result, he started to appear on public platforms vvhen he vvas still a boy.

Gulam Abbas Khan toured the country for a good part of the year, taking the young lad vvith him. They used to be vvith Chhatre's Circus for at least six vveeks in a year, vvhich gave them an opportunity to listen to Rahimat Khan's music. Thus Gulam Abbas Khan savv to it that his grandson heard the best musicians of the time and he made it a point to explain to him all the stylistic characteristics of the music to vvhich they listened. Their annual tour took them to Natthan Khan, vvho used to live in Mysore. In 1 906, Fayyaz Khan's concert in the presence of the Maharaja of Mysore vvas so vvell­ received that he vvas avvarded a Gold Medal. He vvas then in his tvventies but his fame had spread and, in 1 91 2, the Maharaja of Baroda, Sayyajirao Gaekvvad, appointed him darbar gayc>k and invited him to make Baroda his home. Gulam Abbas Khan came and settled in Baroda, and lived long enough­ he vvas more than a hundred years old vvhen he died-to see his favourite grandson become one of the most renovvned musicians of the time.

29 Gharana Training In classical music, strict training in the style of a gharana is of para­ mount importance. Each gharana has its own method of imparting tr13ining, but, as a general rule, the following pattern is adopted. At the outset, the student has to learn how to project his voice. Then his training in the raga-s begins. In some gharana-s, the practice is to teach the disciple a few Ohrupad­ dhamar-s before starting on a Khyal. Some of the alap-s in a raga are repeated again and again to ensure that the swara-sangati of the raga is thoroughly assimilated. This explains why the older generation of musicians (without any special knowledge of the mathematics of shruti) understand so instinctively the gradation of a note (kama/, atikoma/ etc.) in a particular raga.

Fayyaz Khan received this training when he was still a boy and it resulted in a special kind of discipline in the presentation of raga-s.

A Masculine Voice Formerly the vogue was for mus1c1ans to sing in a high key . As a result, even those who were naturally gifted with a masculine voice tried hard to sing in a higher pitch, and this artificial strain often caused damage to the quality of the voice.

Fayyaz Khan refused to fall prey to such practices. He was fully conscious of the natural timbre of his voice and its limitations. His note was kali ek or safed ek, but the voice had been trained to such perfection that it sounded full and resonant. Even the pancham of the lower octave could be heard some distance away and if his voice lacked a measure of sweetness it certainly had power and depth.

Nom Thom and Hori Dhrupad Khan Sahib was basically a Khyaliya but he favoured Nom Thom and Hori Dhrupad (these compositions in Dhamar tala are known as Pakki Hori). In earlier times, it was mandatory for a Khya/ singer to learn Ohrupad. Since the rules of a raga and its pattern were skilfully woven into the very texture of Dhrupad-dhamar compositions, these were regarded as an essential basis for instruction in a raga. One could not be quite sure that khyal compositions, particularly in the drut tempo, would adhere to all the rules relating to a raga since it is not possible to observe these in tana-s with the same exactitude as in a/ap-s.

Khan Sahib had been trained in Dhrupad- dhamar as part of his gharana's mode of instruction. During his tours with Gulam Abbas Khan, he listened to the masters of Dhrupad and was fascinated by their Nom Thom.

Musicians, who concentrate on alapi, favour such well-known raga-s as Todi, Asavari, Multani, Miya-Malhar, Yaman, Puria, Darbari-Kanada . But Khan Sahib had mastered Nom Thom even in raga-s, such as Ramkali, Desi, Sindura, Barwa, Khat, Megh-Malhar, Maluha-Kedar. He had received such excellent training in delineating the specific note placement in a raga, and its minute details, that, with the very start of the Nom Thom, he could convey

30 the entire outline of a raga. I had heard Megh-Malhar sung by several musicians, but I was hardly ever happy with the presentation. Khya/ singers were often in the habit of moving on quickly to the tana-s, with the result that the shades of the raga Malhar disappeared to make way for those of the raga Sarang . Khan Sahib was fully aware that it was possible to sing all the svvara-s of Sc.rang and yet delineate Malhar by employing the Dhrupad ang and gamaka-s . That is why he could sing the raga with such mastery.

Khyal Ninety percent of the compositions in Hindustani classical music are in Brajabhasha. The rest of the ten percent are in Marwadi, Punjabi, Urdu, Persian, Bihari etc. Khan Sahib was himself a Brajabhashi from Agra and he sang and enunciated every syllable and word with such feeling and in so meaningful a manner that there was an immediate impact on listeners. The emotion in the composition was so eloquently expressed on his face that audiences understood the import of the composition, without their being acquainted with the language.

Khan Sahib had a firm grasp on the style of the Gwalior school : The cheeza sung first; then each of its syllables adorned with different notes, followed by a development of the raga through a/api; then bo/-ang and tana-s. The Khya/ in bilambit tempo is succeeded by a composition in the same raga in drut laya. "To this gradual unfolding of a raga and its development, the Agra gharana added its own contribution", Khan Sahib remarked to me. "I have in mind the rhythmic play (layakari) of the tana phirat and the stress on rhythmic play even in the bol-ang", he added.

Khan Sahib was a wizard when it came to the play of rhythm in bol­ ang. I once heard him sing the cheeza (in Vasant). Piya sang khelo ri, in a fast Tritala tempo. The gist of the song is: a young, rather impetuous girl reminds her friends of the~pproach of spring, of the joyous atmosphere around them. She asks them to wear colourful garments, weave garlands for the Beloved and rush to play with him. She is impatient to start. Occasionally she pleads with them; sometimes she rushes around, urging them to hurry. Khan Sahib expressed every shade in her mood through the stres::; on words, the play with notes, and the expressions on his face. Sometimes, instead of the first line of the cheeza, he picked on a line in the astai and antara and dwelt on it. His play with the line Daru ho garao (the last line of the astai in the cheeza) was so elaborate that for the time being one felt that it formed the opening line of the composition.

Khan Sahib usually favoured the familiar raga-s . But if the mood took him or if he saw a knowledgeable audience, he sang the rarer raga-s, like Bangal, Shuddha-nat, Pancham, Ramgouri, Maluha- Kedar, Shyam-Kalyan with equal mastery. He never sang a Khyal for more than an hour and his presenta­ tion was never dull or boring .

Thumri, Dadra When I asked him where he had learnt Thumri, Dadra, Khan Sahib told me, "I was never trained to sing these forms. I heard Thumri singers

31 during our travels. We used to be invited to the homes of these mus1c1ans . They used to feed us, then sing for us and after that the honoured gues1:s would present their music. I heard their music so often that I learnt to assimi­ late its style." This was absolutely so-when Khan Sahib sang a Thumn; his adakari had a feminine touch. The influence of what he had seen and heard was clearly noticeable. Quite often, he wove a couplet on love or lines of devotion in the composition and the effect was fascinating. In fact, on rare occasions, I even heard him sing Gaza/-s and charm his audiences.

The range of Khan Sahib's music was wide and varied-from Hori Dhrupad to Thumri and Gaza/. Because of his versatility there were many who called him Chaturanga Gawai.

The Man Khan Sahib was exceptionally fortunate. He had never known want or poverty. Princes showered gifts on him. Tukojirao Maharaj of Indore was so enthralled by his music that right on the spot he took off his own pearl­ necklace and tied it round Khan Sahib's neck. But Khan Sahib never learnt how to save money. He was generous to a fault, and spent lavishly on his guests. Simple and trusting by nature, he would hand over money to someone in the household and ask him to keep an account. He never looked at it. All he wanted was a piece of paper to say that the money had been spent. He had never learnt to save but he did keep all his medals and when he visited (for the first time) a town for a recital, he was fond of pinning them on his sherwani, walking down the bazar with his silver- handled stick, and getting a feel of the place.

In 1 948, he was seriously ill but the best possible medical care was made available and he recovered. I still remember his words, "Deodhar Sahib, you will hear me sing in very good form soon . .Just wait." His health improved and he jid give a few recitals. But the strain took its toll. In 1 950, the X-rays showed that he was suffering from tuberculosis . His condition worsened . On November 5, 1 950, Vilayat Husain Khan, Azmat Husain Khan, Khadim Husain Khan and his other relatives rushed to his bedside. He was still conscious and spoke to them. But gradually he began to sink and at eight o'clock at night, he breathed his last in their presence.

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