Melodiously yours

Classical singer Shubha Mudgal turns fiction writer

66-Mudgal Happy space: Mudgal with her dogs at her home in Delhi | Sanjay Ahlawat

Shubha Mudgal has found a voice after forty years as a classical musician of considerable repute. Looking For Miss Sargam, her collection of short stories, is her first performance. And Mudgal is pitch perfect. Like her singing voice—deep, smoky, thrilling and memorable—her fictional one rings out loud and clear, filled with humour and warmth.

Mudgal, 60, lives in New Delhi, in a sunny, almost soundproof flat, with two dogs, 1,400 books and many tanpuras. Her flat is chaotic, if charming, with plants and sculptures by Radha Krishnan, one of her favourite artists. Her two dogs, Ringo and Nargis, run around wildly each time the doorbell rings. And it does so often. There is a brief lull when she sings in her room. “They are allowed in when I sing, but not when I teach,” she says with a smile. The dogs obediently sit by her feet as she strums the tanpura and sings for a bit.

“I am a recluse,’’ she admits. A compulsive book buyer, the books in her room—where she does her riyaaz—have now reached the roof. Mudgal uses a ladder to fetch books at the top. Yet, she still buys. And, she spends her day in devotion to music—listening, teaching, reading and singing. “Even past midnight. At least the room is now properly soundproofed,” she adds, with a laugh.

Written over years, Looking For Miss Sargam is a book of short stories that offer a delicious behind-the-scenes peek into the music world. “I had the stories in my head. I never imagined writing them,” she says. “It is quite a roller-coaster ride. Any musician’s life, not only mine. I have had the chance to be on several sides.”

Beautifully observed, the book is laugh-out-loud funny, yet laced with sadness. It is as much about the music industry changing as it is about India. “I started with one story, with no idea of writing a collection of short stories. I started writing Aman Bol [the first story in the book], primarily for the purpose of dramatising it. But my husband encouraged me to show it to Kanishka [her agent]. Both their responses were encouraging.”

Amal Bol is based on what is thinly disguised as the Aman Ki Asha project, a joint peace campaign by organisations from India and Pakistan. In the story, Mudgal brings together two musicians from either side of the border for a much-hyped concert. What transpires is a hilarious battle of egos when established artists come to perform, armed with their artist managers. “It is a shared heritage. But at the same time, it is a disputed shared heritage,” says Mudgal. “And that carries over in many things, including music. I have been to Pakistan and the affection, love and the friends I have are invaluable. But I would be a hypocrite if I did not acknowledge that the rivalry and the disputes on authenticity and the disputes over raabdari exist. I have seen [it] at very close quarters.”

The book is filled with characters that are instantly familiar. Asavari Apte is a classical singer and teacher from Pune who has never been abroad for a concert, and is shocked when she is asked to judge a DJ event in America. There is also Manzoor Ahmad Rehmati, so desperate for a Padma award that he is willing to sell rare compositions of his family in return for a recommendation from Ustad Riwayat Ali Khan.

There are gurus, who have feet of clay or are too naive, PR pundits hired to make “guzzles” (ghazals) saleable and gifted pupils, who are encouraged by their parents to be musical but not musicians. “People keep asking me, ‘Aaj kal lagan ni hoti hai?’ [Is there no diligence these days?]. All of us are inundated by requests to teach. Parents want to help, but they are also scared. Surely, their concern is valid. That is the breaking point today. It is not when you feel challenged by music... it is when you have to make a living out of it,” she says.

Looking For Miss Sargam is heartfelt, heart-warming and sometimes heartbreaking. It mirrors Mudgal’s many concerns, be it peace concerts (“An event does not make for peace. That is just a picture you create for headlines.”) or artists failing to cope with the industry. “Do we even know the people we are creating welfare schemes for? When a Bismillah Khan sahib comes on TV to seek help, and he is a Bharat Ratna, does that not say anything?” she asks. More than just a lively chronicling of a world, each story is about loss—the loss of a baradari (sense of community), of the traditions of music and of civility.

Mudgal writes about this shift eloquently in the story with Manzoor Rehmati. “There was this deep reverence for khandaani composition. This was a legacy that belonged to these families,” she says. “In Manzoor, the change that I see is that he does not mind giving away that legacy. Because, to him now, in his perception, the legacy is the Padma award. There is a shift in what is considered valuable.”

LOOKING FOR MISS SARGAM

Author: Shubha Mudgal

Publisher: Speaking Tiger Publishing

Pages: 208

Price: Rs499

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