Readers' Forum
“A matter of taste”
I thoroughly enjoyed reading Berjis Desai’s column, "A matter of taste” (Parsiana, May 7, 2016), written in a lighter vein. It was so hilarious that I giggled and chuckled to myself while reading the typically bawa style language. The scenes at the concert hall are so true to what he has described, as I have often observed them myself.
As a lover of classical western music I fully understood the concert that Zubin Mehta conducted which Desai was talking about. In fact I attended the concert when the Violin Concerto in D Major was played by Pinchas Zukerman.
However, at the end of the Bawa Musings, it seems the qawwali queen has stolen the show from "Apro Zubin!”
Thank you for taking me back in time when my friends did talk the same ‘sirpa’ language (combination of languages, like Hinglish).
As a lover of classical western music I fully understood the concert that Zubin Mehta conducted which Desai was talking about. In fact I attended the concert when the Violin Concerto in D Major was played by Pinchas Zukerman.
However, at the end of the Bawa Musings, it seems the qawwali queen has stolen the show from "Apro Zubin!”
Thank you for taking me back in time when my friends did talk the same ‘sirpa’ language (combination of languages, like Hinglish).
GOOL B. PAVRI
goolpavri@hotmail.com
goolpavri@hotmail.com
The piece by Berjis Desai, "A matter of taste,” (Parsiana, May 7, 2016) on concerts and qawwalis touched me because of my Allahabad based family’s link with music. From my maternal grandmother down to our generation we played music of all kinds. My mother and her sister had studied Indian classical music, both vocal and instrumental and the latter excelled in playing the tabla. In her heyday in Karachi she was invited for all occasions to accompany the musicians on the tabla. My grandmother played the sitar very well and had also taken classical piano lessons.
Hindi bhajans, such as those sung by Juthika Roy and religious qawwalis were often sung at parties by hired musicians and played on gramophone records. We also had a foot operated harmonium to which my father often sang comic Gujarati songs and hymns in praise of Zoroaster. One of his favorites was the Gujarati translation of the Christian hymn "Trust in the Lord and don’t despair,” with the words: "Rakhio aadhaar té paigambar ma/ é aapro saacho dost/ Kaahi na chhoré saath hamaaro/ Aapro saachcho Zarthosht (Place your trust in the Lord/ He is our true friend/ he never leaves our side/ Our true Zarthosht).”
Allahabad has a well-known Sangeet Samiti which was for many years situated in the famous Alfred Park of the city. Earlier it had been located in the old city, far away from the Civil Lines, but the distance did not deter my parents from going there each night during the annual week-long music conference.
Hindi bhajans, such as those sung by Juthika Roy and religious qawwalis were often sung at parties by hired musicians and played on gramophone records. We also had a foot operated harmonium to which my father often sang comic Gujarati songs and hymns in praise of Zoroaster. One of his favorites was the Gujarati translation of the Christian hymn "Trust in the Lord and don’t despair,” with the words: "Rakhio aadhaar té paigambar ma/ é aapro saacho dost/ Kaahi na chhoré saath hamaaro/ Aapro saachcho Zarthosht (Place your trust in the Lord/ He is our true friend/ he never leaves our side/ Our true Zarthosht).”
Allahabad has a well-known Sangeet Samiti which was for many years situated in the famous Alfred Park of the city. Earlier it had been located in the old city, far away from the Civil Lines, but the distance did not deter my parents from going there each night during the annual week-long music conference.
Shakila Banoo Bhopali: qawwali queen
We had an old gramophone and our parents indulged us with as many English and Hindi records as we wanted. In fact, when our young friends came every evening, we danced to many of the songs, copying the dance moves from movies.
My maternal grandmother belonged to a family of 13 brothers and sisters and initially they all resided in a large house in Parel, Bombay. The family often organized musical evenings. Firoz Dastur, grandma’s sister’s son, is still remembered for his contribution to Indian classical music. Besides being a great singer, he was a good human being, warm and helpful.
After World War I, when Kaiser Wilhem of Germany was defeated, the Parsis of Bombay made a parody on him, sung to the tune of "It’s a long way to Tipperary.” The words were: "Kaiser, oh paapi Kaiser/ Pooriyo tu naadan/ Chhoriya gola/ Dhujawia maidaan/ Pan Kaiserji no khachar ghaan (O evil Kaiser/ You are a naïve boy/ You let loose the cannons/ And shook the battlefields/ But the Kaiser was utterly ruined).” I still sing it!
Thank you, Berjis, for reviving these memories! MEHER D. DHONDY
Gurgaon, Haryana
My maternal grandmother belonged to a family of 13 brothers and sisters and initially they all resided in a large house in Parel, Bombay. The family often organized musical evenings. Firoz Dastur, grandma’s sister’s son, is still remembered for his contribution to Indian classical music. Besides being a great singer, he was a good human being, warm and helpful.
After World War I, when Kaiser Wilhem of Germany was defeated, the Parsis of Bombay made a parody on him, sung to the tune of "It’s a long way to Tipperary.” The words were: "Kaiser, oh paapi Kaiser/ Pooriyo tu naadan/ Chhoriya gola/ Dhujawia maidaan/ Pan Kaiserji no khachar ghaan (O evil Kaiser/ You are a naïve boy/ You let loose the cannons/ And shook the battlefields/ But the Kaiser was utterly ruined).” I still sing it!
Thank you, Berjis, for reviving these memories! MEHER D. DHONDY
Gurgaon, Haryana
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