His Father’s Son

Ustad Shujaat Khan

On a starry night, with the nip in the air alluding to the onset of winter, was Ustad Shujaat Khan wielding his sitar in tandem with his fellow musicians - flautist Ajay Prasanna, tabla player Amit Choubey, vocalists Hariharan and Kaushiki Chakraborty and saxophonist George Brooks - and together they performed composer Leslie Lewis' production, Odyssey. The Grammy-nominated musician, who sings intermittently while playing his instrument, hails from the Imdadkhani gharana and started training under his father, sitar maestro Ustad Vilayat Khan, at the age of three. On the day that followed their performance at the MTV India Summit in Jaipur last weekend, Shujaat, in a freewheeling session with writer and journalist Namita Devidayal, delved into the perquisites as well as the drawbacks of being his father's son while also dwelling on the lighter side of the genius. Excerpts:

Born with a silver spoon

Yes, there were Mercedes parked outside our 17-room house. Of course, we were born with a golden spoon but what people don't know is whether it held a sweet or bitter gourd. I had once said that children of geniuses often turn into drug addicts. It is difficult to deal with expectations. Drugs, then, become an escape. We didn't turn into drug addicts but we were under immense pressure.

Pedagogue and parent

People used to travel miles to learn from my father. They would sweep their guru's home and only sometimes get to listen to him play. I was treated no differently from them. If someone was sweeping the floor, I used to do the dusting or whatever else needed tending. But there is an advantage and that advantage is in my blood. Also, you grow up around music. From the day you are born, you are listening to music. It becomes ingrained in you. It's easier for Vilayat Khan's son to get a concert but if I cannot make you happy, it doesn't matter whose son I am or what my lineage is. People will not come to listen to me play. So, there are advantages but the disadvantages far, far outnumber them. I don't mean to sound ungrateful. But at the age of nine, we would come back tired from school and pass out at 5 pm, as kids usually do. At 9 pm, we were woken up to do riyaaz that would go on till 5 am. We would catch a few hours of sleep before it was time for school again.

Finding a niche

My father realised that if Shujaat Khan turns out to be a carbon copy of Ustad Vilayat Khan saab, nobody will come to listen to him. People had already started demanding that I play my father's pieces. He helped me find and nurture my own expression. I am his son and I do have his touch. Much like him, I dip into the gayaki-ang but he did not want me to be limited by what he played, and people's perception of me. For example, I rarely play raga Bhairavi. I think till the end of my life, Vilayat Khan saab's Bhairavi will remain etched in people's minds. And even when I do play it, I try and bring in a few variations.

Funny Business

My father was not media savvy, so many people didn't know what he looked like. I was a little more recognisable because they had seen me on TV. Once, he asked me to drive him to Khan Market to buy a camera film roll. I dropped him at the store and went to park the car. As I entered the store, the store manager left my father and came running to me, saying, "Khan saabji, aayiye, aayiye. Ek photo lijiye. Hum dhanya hai ki aap dukaan par aaye". Before I could turn around and tell the store manager who the person he had just excused himself from is, my father gestured to me to keep quiet. And then jumped into the conversation, "Yeh Shujaat Khan hain? Main bhi inke charno ki dhool le loon". He was a man who was extremely confident of himself and always said, "Classical music ek aisi cheez hai, jo samjhe, woh tumhara ghulaam. Aur jo na samjhe, tum uske ghulaam."