By Mayank Chhaya–
The late Pandit Bhimsen Joshi, on any measure one of India’s all-time great Hindustani classical music exponents, once described Ustad Rashid Khan as the future of Hindustani classical music. That indeed turned out to be true, but Khan’s supreme talent was extinguished rather early on January 9 at age 55 after he passed away due to prostate cancer.
Gifted with a sonorous voice and deceptively effortless mastery of the form, Rashid Khan was a picture of self-effacement. Born in Badayun, Uttar Pradesh, Khan began singing at 11. By the time he died on Tuesday, he had been sharpening his command over his genre of classical music for over four decades.
Celebrated as someone who was not shy of experimenting with the classical forms, Khan was also known for keeping up with the changing times. He occasionally sang movie songs, all of which have been received with great enthusiasm.
His website describes him as the 31st in the direct line to Tansen, considered the supreme master of Hindustani classical singing who lived in the 16th century during Mughal rule over India. Tansen was one of the nine “jewels” in the court of Akbar.
“I treat Surs (keys in music) with great respect. I love Surs. I am also afraid that I may strike the wrong key. It is Allah’s benediction that I sing,” he told this writer two years ago in an interview.
Known to often step outside the rigid bounds of Indian classical music, Khan said, “From my childhood I have freed myself from such restraints. I used to be immersed in music. I never pursued anything other than music.”
One of Khan’s many attributes was to effortlessly switch between the classical genre that he was trained in and the light, semi-classical approach that informed cinema and other forms of music. He chose not to be hamstrung by the often-regimental demands of the classical genre and experimented with a lighter form as well.
As a not-yet teenager, Khan opened a concert by the Sitar maestro Ravi Shankar that gave the kind of start that most people could dream of. “Pandit Ravi Shankar used to come to listen to me in my childhood as did Pandit Bhimsen Joshi, Ustad Vilayat Khan, Ustad Ali Akbar Khan, Pandit Jasraj and Pandit Nikhil Banerjee. These were all absolute masters,” Khan said.
Like many other great musicians and singers, Khan too believed in brining a sense of joy to his craft. “Joy and happiness are important ingredients when I sing. I imbibe joys from wherever I go and try to bring them into my singing,” he said.
Another unusual feature of Khan’s hugely celebrated career around the world was his ability to mingle with his listeners. In that, he was different from some purist musicians of yore who often kept their distance from their audiences. “I am here because of my listeners. If I kept a barrier between them and me, I would not have succeeded. It is important to bring your audience into your experience,” he said.
Khan also stood out as someone who did not obsess with riyaz (the daily practice) or practice the way many others of his ilk did. “There was a time when I engaged in very little riyaz. On the other hand, music was always playing in my mind and body. In a sense, I was in constant riyaz because I used to sing all the time. Now I do so many concerts that in a way even those become part of my practice,” he said.
In a lighter mode, he was asked by this writer which Hindi cinema actor he thought his voice would have suited best had he chosen to sing more film songs. “I like to think my voice would have suited them all,” he said.
For the world of Indian classical music generally and Hindustani classical music particularly, Khan’s passing is an enormous loss. It is particularly because after four-plus decades as a performing artist, Khan had become so effortless and yet so experimental.
