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Asia Times Online
South Asia Feb 15,2003

BOOK REVIEW
A soulful journey
Beyond Time. The Ageless Music of Jagjit Singh by Asharani Mathur (edited)

Reviewed by Sreeram Chaulia

Millions of music connoisseurs and Jagjit Singh fans have been longing to learn more personally and intimately about the man who revolutionized Ghazal (romantic Urdu poetry) composition and singing. What is the story of his rise? What are the trials and tribulations he faced? What is the secret of his longevity at the summit of the Ghazal rendition genre for more than 25 years? How do his peers rate him? What kind of musical and human qualities have made him a household name and such a revered figure all over the Indian subcontinent?

This pictorial semi-autobiography comes like deliverance to the endless litany of questions and curiosity. It takes readers on a soulful life journey of the ultimate exponent of melody.

Roots
Jagjit was born in 1941 to simple parents in Sriganganagar, Rajasthan. Actually named Jagmohan at birth, his devout Sikh father rechristened him Jagjit on the advice of his Namdhari guru. Jagjit's early years were spent in Bikaner, where his father was posted as a public works department employee. "We were a lower middle class family, not at all well off ... buying kites was a luxury ... radios too were a luxury ... we used to study by the light of lanterns because there was no electricity in the house ... we had no running water". (pp.17-18)

The Sikh religion accords a very high place to classical music. On returning to his birthplace in 1948, Jagjit's father got him to train under a blind teacher, Pandit Chhaganlal Sharma, and later, under Ustad Jamal Khan of the Senia gharaana (a school of traditional Hindustani music). Still a child, Jagjit sang shabads (devotional Sikh hymns) in Gurdwaras and processions on birthdays of the Sikh gurus. "From that time, I had a taste for lyrics with the melancholy flavor of parting and separation." Jagjit's first public performance came in the ninth grade. "When I sang there was great excitement! Some gave me five rupees, some two, and called out their encouragement." (p.19) There was no looking back after that.

At college in Sriganganagar, he sang one night in front of 4,000 people. Suddenly, the electricity went off and the entire arena was plunged into darkness. The sound system was battery-operated and remained live. "I went on singing, nobody moved, nothing stirred ... such incidents and the response from audiences convinced me that I should concentrate on music." (p.22)

Jagjit listened intently to classical singers of that time on radio - Talat Mehmood, Abdul Karim Khan, Bade Ghulam Ali Khan, Amir Khan et al. Being fond of Urdu poetry, Jagjit developed a preference for bol-pradaan music, where emphasis is on words and expression rather than the instruments.

Jagjit chose DAV College, Jalandhar, for higher education since the principal of the institution waived hostel and tuition fees for talented musician students. Another reason was that Jalandhar's All India Radio (AIR) station carried programs in classical singing. AIR graded him a "B" class artiste and allowed him six live music segments a year for small payments. In 1962, while in Jalandhar, Jagjit composed a welcome song for the visiting president of India, Rajendra Prasad.

Inter-university music competitions required his college to send one nominee for classical and one nominee for light music, and since an established senior student already occupied the classical music berth, Jagjit shifted to Geet and Ghazal and won trophy after trophy, "Slowly, I started acquiring fans who would ask for specific song requests ... often a 100 rupee note would be lovingly pressed into my hand." (p.27)

Struggles
In 1961, Jagjit went to Bombay to scout out prospects for a career in film playback singing. Music director Jaikishen liked his voice but could not offer any big break. Money ran out and a dispirited Jagjit did not have enough to even retrieve his clothes from the laundry or buy a ticket home. "I traveled by train from Bombay to Jalandhar minus a ticket, hiding in the bathroom." (p.28)

In March 1965, Jagjit decided to have another go at the celluloid singing in Bombay. He lived in a run-down hostel, sleeping on an iron cot surrounded by bedbugs and getting his foot chewed off by rats at night. He was financially in a precarious situation. "Sometimes there was money and sometimes there wasn't." But such was the purity and attraction of Jagjit's voice that he managed to get two Ghazals recorded for an EP (Extended Play, a 1960s gramophone record format) with HMV. When the time came to take a picture for the cover of the album, Jagjit decided to cut his long Sikh turban and hair, reasoning, "It was a matter of identity ... whatever picture was taken, that was how I would have to remain for the rest of my career." (p.42)

Life in Bombay was hard and Jagjit eked out a living doing small mehfils (musical gatherings) and house concerts. He sang at numerous film parties in the hope that a music director might notice him and give him a chance. But filmdom was run in cliques and newcomers were rarely accepted in a highly competitive environment. Besides, as his brother Kartar Singh recalled, "The musicality of his voice, its depth, its pain, how would it suit a hero who runs around trees?" (p.46) His strong composition skills and conjurer-like control over words, ragas and tunes would have simply been lost had he remained stuck in film playbacks.

Jagjit increasingly veered toward the Ghazal. Bollywood's loss was the Ghazal's gain, for those were the times when Ghazal music was turning into a forgotten and dying art. The Urdu language itself was in decline in India. Jagjit made the Ghazal his beloved and changed its destiny. Jagjit Singh was successful because he developed his own style and didn't try to be like film singers. He was different from them, several notches above.

Bonds
In an era when the Ghazal had yet to emerge out of the confines of aristocratic seances to become marketable, Jagjit composed music for radio jingles, ad films, documentaries, etc to earn an income. It was at one such jingle recording that he met Chitra, who was at the tether end of a bad marriage. Her daughter, Monica, remembered hearing Jagjit sing the Punjabi folk song, "Maye-ni-Maye" at a neighbors's home: "As a little kid, I was so moved by that song, I just sat down and wept ... it was the purity and intensity of his voice that touched me." (p.53)

Jagjit's album recordings were excruciatingly slow in the late 1960s. Between 1965 and 1973, he had three solo EPs, two duet EPs with Chitra, and one "SuperSeven" (a 20-minute format that has disappeared). Most earnings came from live performances at parties and weddings. On one occasion, he was invited to Hong Kong to sing at a marriage and the Hilton Hotel "asked me to perform for half-an-hour each day in return for a room and food - no money." (p.69) In 1969, Jagjit and Chitra also went to East Africa along with an orchestra troupe of light music singers. In 1970, "for the grand sum of 30 rupees", the two got married. "No drama, no reception, no presents. Just two minutes and we were man and wife."

Vivek, alias Baboo, was born in 1971. When Baboo was brought home from the hospital, "we had very little money, our apartment had just one room ... but there was joy, such joy." To tide over financial hardships, Chitra used to literally hold the sleeping 20-day-old baby in her arms while singing jingles into the mike. Despite the straitened conditions, Jagjit fondly recalls those times: "I felt as if I was the richest man in the world." (p.73)

Ascent
In 1975, HMV asked Jagjit to compose his first ever LP (Long-Play) album, a signal that he had finally arrived on the scene. "The Unforgettables" featured Jagjit-Chitra Ghazals that sounded totally different from orthodox Ghazals. Modern instruments rubbed shoulders with traditional sarangi and tabla. Jagjit's trademark belief that Ghazal must not be imprisoned in one rigid style raised critics' eyebrows, but as the album grew into a hit beyond expectations, the self-same critics hailed Jagjit for this foresight and innovation. "Unforgettables" brought Jagjit and Chitra Singh to national attention and helped finance the purchase of their modest flat in Bombay.

The next album Jagjit recorded was the Punjabi "Birha Da Sultan", poems of Shiv Kumar Batalvi. Jagjit's interpretation and mellifluous rendering of Batalvi's sad verses haunted listeners for decades. A quarter of a century after the album was released, hit numbers like "Shikra" (where the beloved is compared to the falcon who won't eat what is offered and "so, I fed it the flesh of my heart") are requested at Jagjit's live concerts. After "Birha Da Sultan", Jagjit and Chitra composed and sang the first-ever double album, "Come Alive", sparking a Ghazal hunger that was unprecedented in South Asia. "Live at Wembley" and "Live at Royal Albert Hall", two more double albums recorded in concert, came out after Jagjit toured England in 1979 and 1982. On the latter trip, two performances in London were scheduled for two consecutive nights in venues with seating capacity of 6,000. Tickets sold out in three hours.

In 1980, Jagjit agreed to sing Javed Akhtar's poetry for a low-budget film, "Saath Saath", without bothering for financial rewards. Raman Kumar, the director, could not spend much at the recording studio, but Jagjit footed the bills. A similar movie venture, "Arth", in the same year saw Jagjit and Chitra Singh's popularity climb higher and higher. Even now, "Arth" and "Saath Saath" are one of HMV's highest selling combination cassettes ever.

In 1987, Jagjit crossed another milestone by recording the first purely digital CD album by an Indian musician, "Beyond Time". It was a memorable moment not just for Chitra and him, but for Ghazals as a whole. The year after, Jagjit sealed his name in history by composing the music for Gulzar's epic TV serial, "Mirza Ghalib". Jagjit's soft and serenading voice paid befitting tribute to the greatest 19th century poet of undivided India.

Despair
In 1990, against the run of professional success, Jagjit and Chitra lost their 18-year-old only son, Vivek, in a motor accident. It was a moment of pure desperation and the biggest tragedy in their lives. Chitra lost her voice and never returned to the stage or to the recording studio. Jagjit groped in darkness and depression for a while, but such were his steely character and dedication to music that he decided "not to let what has happened become a weakness to crush me, instead I should turn it into a strength". (p.109). He began picking up the scrambled pieces by playing the tanpura as a form of meditation. "After Baboo's death, my focus sharpened and I concentrated entirely on singing and composing." (p.114)

The first album after his son's demise, "Man Jite Jagjit", contained Sikh devotional Gurbani, where "you'll hear the pain ... my mood of acceptance [of fate]". Work did not stop even after the devastating loss, though fans could no longer hear Jagjit's famous duets with Chitra. "Someone Somewhere", "Hope", "Kahkashan", "Visions", "Face to Face", "Silsilay", "Marasim", "Forget me Not" and so on reached a global audience. "Sajda" (1991) with the nightingale of India, Lata Mangeshkar, smashed non-film album records of all time. The caravan has not stopped to this day. The very day his mother died in 2001, after the cremation in the morning, Jagjit went to Calcutta in the afternoon for a scheduled concert.

After Vivek's death, Jagjit began showing more of his spiritual and philosophical side, mellowing his already sobering voice, singing complicated metaphysical verses and also venturing into classical bhajans (Hindu devotional songs). When poet and associate, Nida Fazli, sees the sonless father figure Jagjit with legions of his youthful fans, "it seems as if he has hundreds and thousands of children who shower love on him". (p.119)

Tributes
Over the years, Jagjit has promoted young Ghazal singers by lending his name or his music to budding talents. "Nobody helped me like this when I had just arrived in Bombay ... if you help others, it doesn't demean you." (p.123) Jagjit believes he has imbibed his father's generosity and large-heartedness. "These are samskaras [good deeds] which I saw from childhood and learned from them." His acts of kindness, which are showered on accompanying artistes, friends in need and associates, also extend to people he does not know. "He gives you everything before you have to ask for it" said Kuldip Desai, Jagjit's personal assistant. In the 1990s, Jagjit has done albums whose vast royalties have gone to charitable organizations like Child Relief and You, the Aurobindo Ashram and the National Association of the Blind. "One does these things hoping for relief or peace or to see someone happy." (p.154)

Jagjit came at a time when the stricken Ghazal was about to kick the bucket, but his arrival breathed oxygen into it. For this service, says poet Sudarshan Faakir, Ghazal lovers are forever indebted to him. "He developed a new industry, the Ghazal industry," with its ancillary artistes, sound engineers, studios and poets. Urdu poets owe him a special place in their hearts, for it was Jagjit who made it a practice to pay lyricists a part of his earnings. His latest commitment is to popularize Hindi all over multi-lingual India as a connecting language that the whole country should share.

The first step was an album with the Hindi poetry of Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee, "Samvedna" last year. Such is Jagjit's market value and phenomenal presence that like Urdu was resuscitated after "Mirza Ghalib", the more Hindi Geet albums he releases, it will be the turn of shrinking Hindi litterateurs to thank him as their savior too. In recognition of his yeoman contributions to music and literature, Jagjit was awarded the Padma Bhushan title by the government of India last month.

Today, Jagjit the perfectionist motivates himself to ever-newer musical achievement. For someone who has attained Himalayan heights, "every morning is a new beginning, every album is a new album, every concert is a new test ... to live in your past is a dangerous thing ... whatever you've done, you can do something better, let's try for that". (p.160)

Jagjit Singh aficionados will concur when I conclude with one of his own immortal couplets as a request to the great singer:

Uthke mehfil se mat chale jaana,
tum se roshan ye kona kona hain

(Do not ever get up and leave this heart;
it is you who light every corner of it)

Beyond Time. The Ageless Music of Jagjit Singh by Asharani Mathur (edited). Habitat Arts Pvt Ltd, New Delhi. December 2002. ISBN: 81-901563-0-6. Price US$57.50, 164 pages.

Source: http://www.atimes.com/atimes/South_Asia/EB15Df02.html

ScreenIndia.com Book Review | Beyond Time - The Ageless Music of Jagjit Singh

Honest and appealing

Nisaar Pangarker

Every once in a while the fields of art, music, or dance produces a legend. And if one breaks up the field of music into its very many genres you are faced with a plethora of talent and artists who have each made significant contributions in their own right. In the field of ghazal in particular, there are many popular names and the more notable ones being of a period bygone. They themselves are no more around, let alone any documented history and background to their lives.

For the last 30 years or so, a name that springs to mind when we mention the term ghazal, most certainly is the name Jagjit Singh. And in your mind you hear a deep baritone voice that plucks the strings of the lovers heart, bringing out feelings of happiness, sadness, pathos, romance, loneliness and every other feeling the heart could ever endure. The field of ghazal gayaki has been done a great justice today as we read the biography titled Beyond Time - The Ageless Music of Jagjit Singh. As great as his contribution has been to popularising ghazal so great will remain this book in telling future generations the real life story of Jagjit Singh.

Firstly let me touch on the aesthetics. Visually the 164 page coffee table sized book is well presented as a hardback with loads of photos rarely seen before. The book is set in a boxed cover and also contains a set of two CDs with a selection of some of his and Chitra’s unforgettable items. Kudos to AshaRani Mathur, the author, and Pankaj Kodesia who conceptualised it, for a well executed project.

The book opens with a two-page foreword by another legend Lata Mangeshkar. “The world of music would not be complete without ghazals. The world of ghazals would not be complete without Jagjit Singh. Jagjit Singh’s contribution to the world of music is unique,” she says. Need we say more?

The book chronicles the life of Jagjit over six periods of time from his birth in 1941, in Sriganganagar. The chapters are well organised and the format is in the form of commentary by various personalities who have each played a role in his life, including extensive commentary by the master himself. Neither Jagjit nor any of the persons interviewed shy away from reality, and Jagjit is as straight-forward as,” We were a lower middle class family, not at all well off.” The book touches on the highest and lowest points of his life with many surprises for the reader. It talks about his struggle for a break in films, his meeting Chitra, the birth and demise of his son Vivek. In a sense this book sets many a record and speculation straight. It talks openly about Chitra’s previous marriage and the input by her first husband, Debo Prasad Dutta is admirable.

No doubt the early years and his coming to Bombay in 1965 was a struggle. His younger brother Kartar Singh comments, “When he was new in Bombay, all the big film people would call him to their houses to sing. They use to make false promises about giving him a chance in films just so that he would perform free for them.” In this sense times have not changed and one still sadly sees budding artists do the most unimaginable for a break in films and music.

Beyond Time...’ reveals the reason behind him shaving his beard and cutting his hair, and also the reaction to that by his father. The book describes how, in Sanjeev Kohli’s words, “he began the arduous struggle of knocking on the doors of the film industry, in vain” eventually driving him to carve his own niche in the form of the ghazal. It is fair then to say that Jagjit was an innovator way back in the 60s already.

Monica Chowdhuri, the daughter of Chitra, talks openly her mother’s relationship with her father Debo Prasad Dutta and their divorce, but in the same voice of bitterness one picks up her love for her Pappa (as she refers to Jagjit) and his support to Chitra during the most trying times in her life. Chitra makes moving statements in this biography, like how she would literally hold her sleeping baby in her arms whn singing into the mike twenty days after he was born, as they needed the money.

Jagjit identifies one of the turning points in his life when his son Vivek, (or Baboo as he was commonly known), was born. “That was the height of happiness. We were not well-off then, but I felt as if I was the richest man in the world.” Jagjit also talks of his style, his compositions and orchestration and his live concerts abroad, many of which would leave the music lover or aspirant musician enriched with many lessons.

The other turning point in his life was when Vivek died tragically in a motor car accident in 1990. “I was a broken man,” laments Jagjit. Chitra opens up completely about this period and how she managed to get a grip on life again, something any other parent would feel strongly about when they read this book. Their feelings are expressed so realistically that it leaves a lump in the throat and a glisten in the eyes when you read it. One must admire the comeback Jagjit made after this tragic incident, for once he commented to noted poet Nida Fazli, “it feels as if life’s very purpose has disappeared.” This part of the book is good therapy for any person struggling to cope with the loss of a loved one.

Jagjit’s perfectionist nature comes through very strongly in the book and is echoed in the words of Daman Sood, recording director, “Technically he’s very very good...he knows complete editing. I have learnt a lot from him. Even while he’s performing, he’s thinking ahead, to the ultimate product, the album. How many artists have such foresight?” And his reason for being the perfectionist he is - in his own words “My quest for perfection comes from the fact that whatever you record becomes like a measuring scale.” This is evident in his many albums, from The Unforgettables (with Chitra Singh), to Sajda (with Lata Mangeshkar) to Silsilay (with Javed Akhtar), and more recently with the works of Shri Atal Bihari Vajpayee in the album Samvedna.

The book goes on to describe the contemporary Jagjit, his giving nature (even to other ghazal artists), his love for horses and children. One of the most outstanding compliments to Jagjit is reflected in the words of Chitra’s ex-husband, “Jagjit is so open-hearted, so generous that it is impossible not to be friendly with him. I think he has a unique ability to touch a chord in the heart of people. A truly warm human being.”

Beyond Time...’ leaves very little of Jagjit’s life untold. When asked about a biography earlier, he had commented, “Do people really want to know about my boring life?” Well, Beyond Time... talks of everything but a boring life with its dashes of humour and lessons abound. It should do well, just like every Jagjit Singh album, and a must for every discerning ghazal and Jagjit fan.

Source : http://www.screenindia.com/fullstory.php?content_id=2179

Friday, November 8, 2002

Ageless Music, Timeless Man: Between Covers With Jagjit
Asmita Aggarwal

Very few of the millions who enjoy Jagjit Singh’s ghazals know that horses have been a passion with the maestro for the past 30 years and that his horses even won three races recently. “Different Strokes, my thoroughbred, won a race last week in Pune. For me, being with horses is the ultimate relaxation and a welcome break from my hectic schedule,” says Singh.

All of you who want to know the man behind the music can browse through the soon-to-be-released Beyond Time: The Ageless Music of Jagjit Singh. The 168-page coffee table book, published by Habitat Art’s Pankaj Kodesia, is priced at Rs 2,750. It is based on transcriptions of over 40 hours of interviews with family and friends conducted by Asharani Mathur who has also edited the book.

One of the most touching portions of the book deals with the death of Vivek (Babu), the 19-year-old son of Jagjit and Chitra, in 1990. “About 80 per cent of my life is revealed in the book but 20 per cent is still within me,” admits Singh.

Singh was born in Shri Ganganagar, Rajasthan, into a lower middle class family with 11 children. “Even the radio was a luxury. Kites were a passion but often we didn’t have enough money to indulge in it,” says Singh.

With a foreword by Lata Mangeshkar, the book comes with two CDs of his ghazals. “I have spoken about my music, years of struggle and Chitra, my pillar of strength. These memories have been strung together in my first biography,” he says. Mellow music to memorable lines, Singh is set to leave his mark again.

Jetwings, the inflight magazine of Jet Airways
October 2002

A life through many voices
A biography of ghazal maestro Jagjit Singh
By G K Raj
Beyond Time is more than just a biography; one might say it is part autobiography as well. The principal voice is that of Jgajit Singh- adding depth and a rich dimension to the portrait of himself are all the other voices we hear, those of his wife and former singing partner, Chitra Singh, his family, his friends, musicians, poets, film directors, colleagues in the music industry. All these voices recount rare insights, anecdotes, observations that present both the public and private worlds of a musical phenomenon.

The total authenticity of Beyond Time is derived from two strengths. One, the first person recollections of the individual voices which allow the reader to share the vivid emotions evoked by their words. And two, the candid memories revealed for the first time. The defining moments of his life and musical career, his personal triumphs and heartbreaks, are recounted with the intimacy of an insider. Both Jagjit and Chitra Singh recall the tragic loss of their son with deeply-felt pain and sorrow which the reader cannot help but share. Prickly areas are tackled with remarkable frankness: why , for example, did he not make it in the world of films? What is his response to the criticism that he has made a pop song of the ghazal? To this, he gives a robust response which every ghazal lover should read.

Such an intensely subjective presentation makes for easy reading, even with 150 plus pages, and the text is complemented with pictures from Jagjit Singh's own collection as well as his studio and other sources.

A 'must read' not only for Jagjit Singh's many fans, but all those who love music and musicians.