The Reigning Begum

Begum Parveen Sultana during a performance

In the Calcutta of 1962, at a stage across from the huge, magnificent grounds of Darbhanga Palace, a 12-year-old found her own imperial moment. She approached the three-and-half octaves of the musical spectrum effortlessly at a time when it was considered a feat, something that another singer at the time — Lata Mangeshkar — was considered adept at. Striking a balance between spareness and restrain, Parveen Sultana from Nagaon in Assam had those in attendance at the famed Sadarang Sammelan awestruck with her voice.

This was at a time when parents were conscious of their children being on stage too early and didn’t allow them until their guru permitted. “I had learnt since I was four. My father thought I was ready,” says Patiala gharana doyenne Begum Parveen Sultana in a phone conversation from Mumbai. She will open Sahitya Kala Parishad and Government of Delhi’s prestigious Delhi Classical Music Festival today. The festival also includes performances by rudra veena icon Bahauddin Dagar, Pt Jasraj, Ut Shujaat Khan and Bhajan Sopori, among others.

Her sentences — in Hindi and English — are marked by a robust Assamese accent, the kind that completely vanishes when she approaches her trademark Bhawani, dayani in the pentatonic Bhairavi, or when she tells her beloved Ghar jaane de, chhad mori baiyya, in the profound night raga of Darbari Kanhada. Presentation, says Sultana, was something she learnt early on in life. “Apart from the pronunciation, I’d sit in front of a huge mirror and sing. My father, also my first teacher, wanted delicate expressions, and a dignified style of presentation. I still practice in front of this huge aaina,” says Sultana.

When composer RD Burman decided to have a female version for one of his compositions in Chetan Anand’s Kudrat (1981), he wanted it to be starkly different from the male version, the one he had created for Kishore Kumar. Sultana rendered the female version of Humein tumse pyar kitna as a short bandish and not a romantic film song. Kumar’s version found much popularity. Sultana, however, walked away with a Filmfare and much adulation from the classical and film world. “If it’s tough, she’s the one to ask,” said composer Khaiyyam to this reporter. “She’ll deliver it like it’s the easiest thing you’ve created.”

Begum had made her film debut with Naushad’s Kaun gali gayo Shyam in Kamal Amrohi’s Pakeezah (1971). A popular thumri in the colourful Mishra Khamaj, this night melody went on in the background, when Sahibjaan climbs the steps of a kotha in Lucknow. “It was quite an experience working with a legend like Naushad sahab. But as beautiful as these compositions are, film music never satisfied me. I wanted to do so much more than just sing for those five-seven minutes. The satisfaction classical music gives me, the sadhana of it, the pleasure of it, the godliness of it, can’t be replaced by anything,” says Sultana.

The passion for music was caught early on by Sultana’s father, an Afghan musician named Ikramul Mazid. He taught her, but was strict about what she heard. “He only allowed Lata ji and Rafi sahab or classical musicians to be played in the house,” says Sultana, who also followed the style of Ut Bade Ghulam Ali Khan and Ut Salamat Khan. After her initial training with Birendra Kumar Phukan and Hiren Sarma, she learned from Pandit Chinmoy Lahiri, a Bengali musician who lived in Lucknow and had trained under nine gharanas. “A parent gharana is important but one need not bind themselves. To evolve you must learn and understand what everyone has to offer,” she says.

It was at Lahiri’s house that she met Ut Dilshad Khan of the Kirana gharana and began learning from him. Two years later, they were married and became popular as a performing duo. “The concept of jugalbandi can work well only when blood relatives or husband-wife perform together. Having Khan sahab as a guru helped, as he knew what my voice was capable of. It was also the support. He was keen that I perform and don’t get too occupied with domestic responsibilities,” says Sultana, who received the Padma Shri at 26. “Indira Gandhi, who gave me the award in 1976, told me that I was an inspiration for other female musicians of the country. It remains one of the best days of my life,” says Sultana.

These days, she takes in fewer concerts but says that being on stage is what she enjoys the most. It’s also interesting how her temperament on stage is starkly opposite to many from the vocal music community. She smiles, cracks jokes, listens to the audience demands, and often, talks of her fondness for bhel puri, chutneys and “everything khatta”. “I love food,” she says with a laugh. She knows that the audience isn’t the same now. “It isn’t as knowledgeable. But my concert needs to be an experience for them. They have made the effort to come and listen to me. Music needs to be such that it can be enjoyed by a novice and a manjha huya artiste. I strive to create that,” says Sultana.