The Origin of Banaras Gharana of Tabla

Banaras, known also as Varanasi or by its ancient name, Kashi, is the holiest city of Hinduism. Located on a northward curve of the Ganges as it cuts through the plains of Uttar Pradesh, Banaras has for centuries been a pilgrimage center and the bastion of Hindu orthodoxy. Maintaining tradition is the life blood of Banaras, and this holds true not only for religious practices, but also for the various arts and crafts that remain thriving family traditions. The elegance and fine workmanship in the Banaras silk sari industry is both legendary and contemporary. Banaras is an opera: the rhythm of leatherworkers pounding out hide for sandals; the clang of blacksmiths along the Thatheri alley; the ring of cycle-riksha bells; train whistles on the edge of the city; balloon bulb bus horns; cawing crows and whining peacocks; mendicants chanting, "Jai Sita Ram, Jai Jai Sita Ram;" a group of shen5r players leading a bridal party down the street; the normal din of six hundred thousand people living in an area little bigger than New York's Central Park.

Musical traditions run deeply in Banaras and the most famous tradition in the classical form is the Banaras Gharana or "style" of Tablaa playing. Drumming is at the heart of Banaras music and some of the best known tabla players in India came originally from this city. The style itself is hard to define in words and is flexible according to each Tabla player's taste. here is a Banaras "sound" in Hindustani music, just as there is a "Motown," or a "Chicago" sound in Afro-American music, but the exact definition of that "sound" is a matter of personal appreciation. The variety of individual styles within the total conglomeration of Tabla playing known as the Banaras Gharana is so great that any generalization about the Gharana as a whole may prove invalid from musician to musician. The mythology, the genealogies , the typical compositions and the favorite forms of improvisation are all uniquely Banaras.

late Kanthe Maharaj, one of the best known Tabla players of this century, recounted the good old days amongst his well-wishers and the disciples the as well as the musical history of the Banaras Gharana as he remembered it. His story, spiced with the numerous legends of the past that are an integral part of Indian tradition, was elaborated upon further by Sharda Sahay, the great-great grandson of the founder of the Banaras Gharana of Tabla , Ram Sahay .

Ram Sahay was born in 1798 in Banaras. His family had originally come from Gopalpur, a village in Jaunpur district bordering Banaras, but had moved due to a smallpox epidemic. One brother went to Lucknow and two others went to Banaras.

Ram Sahay's father was the elder of the two brothers in Banaras. The family astrologer predicted an auspicious musical future for the boy and when just two years old, Ram Sahay began learning Tabla, the basic sixteen-beat Trital of Hindustanimusic. Ram Sahay became the disciple of his uncle, a well-known Tablah player of the day. His uncle introduced him at various music programs and encouraged him to play solos. Under the pressure of constant public exposure, he began to arduously practice the tabla and the t'alas of Hindustani music.

When he was seven years old, Ram Sahay travelled to Lucknow with his father and uncle to attend a musical gathering at the court of the Nawab of Oudh, Shujatuddhaula. Many of the finest Tabla players of India were present and Ram Sahay sat entranced at the feet of the great musicians of the day. One old Muslim gentleman in the audience noted the boy's interest. Several days after the programs at the court, Sharda Sahay (the Sahay brother who had originally come to Lucknow to live) held a music party at his home. Modhu Khan, the old Muslim gentleman, as well as the other Tabla players attended the program and heard Ram Sahay perform a solo. While he was playing Modhu Khan began to pace about the room, acting like a man of a peculiar nature. The other musicians began to mock the eccentric old man under their breath.

After his performance, Ram Sahay asked his uncle why everyone had mocked the old man. Modhu Khan, overhearing the boy's question, answered sadly, "If I had a son, I would have stopped this disgraceful laughter.

" Ram Sahay's uncle took the boy aside and explained that Modhu Khan was a learned Tabla player but that he had given up his practice and now couldn't produce clear strokes. In fact, he was being ridiculed as a person who was no longer capable of doing anything like a "wingless pigeon, " because his fingers moved like a waddling pigeon with clipped wings. Modhu Khan had neither a son nor disciples. He had taken a vow never to initiate anyone from Lucknow into his musical tradition because of their inimicable attitude toward him. But after hearing Ram Sahay's playing and seeing his interest, Modhu Khan appealed to the boy's father to allow him to stay with him in Lucknow as his disciple. The father prayed the next morning and then agreed to the proposal.

Ram Sahay learned wholeheartedly from his inspired teacher. After several years, Modhu Khan was called away to his father-in-law's home in the Punjab. Ram Sahay continued to go to his teacher's house with the same vigor as when his teacher had been there. Each day, he awaited the return of Modhu Khan until after a month he broke down and cried in the fear that his teacher would never return. After consoling the boy, Modhu Khan's wife agreed to teach him in her husband's absence. She had learned over five hundred compositions of Punjab-style Tabla playing from her own father, though she did not play publicly.'

After five months, Modhu Khan returned and was very pleased with Ram Sahay's progress. Modhu Khan taught his disciple for twelve years in Lucknow. The old nawab of Avadh died and was succeeded by his son, the illustrious Wajid Ali Shah. On his "coronation" day, a large musical gathering as held in Lucknow featuring musicians and dancers from all over north India. Wajid Ali Shah himself had studied kathak (Hindusta'ni classical) dancing with Ram Sahay's cousin, Thakur Pra sadji, and the new nawab was anxious to hear Ram Sahay play. Modhu Khan declared that his young twenty-year old disciple would play under one condition: that Ram Sahay be allowed to play as long as he liked with no one stopping him. The nawab agreed.

That night, Ram Sahay began playing at eight o'clock and played through the night until four in the morning. As remarkable a feat as this was in itself, what was even more remarkable as that he played only two types of elaboration -the uthaan and mohra.' Even the greatest of the Tabla players could only play a few of these elaborations and yet Ram Sahay played for eight hours without repeating a phrase'. Seven straight days of playing passed and Ram Sahay continued to dazzle the audience with spectacular varieties of elaboration. His Khazana,or compositions of intricate and pronounced stroke and tempo change, were extraordinary. The audience remained spellbound to the end and then broke into excited conversation and nervous laughter.

Modhu Khan rose and approached Wajid Ali Shah with a final request: he wished to ask the illustrious tabla and pakhzwaj players present if they had the courage to play now, after Ram Sahay. The musicians answered in a chorus of resounding, "no, thank you'. " It was Modhu Khan's moment of glory and he relished it to the limit. He smiled and said, "All right, you pompous blowhards. You have been calling me a 'wingless pigeon' for years. Now come and lay garlands on Ram Sahay's shoulders. If that is too much for you, come and challenge my disciple. " Modhu Khan's challenge caught those present by surprise: if they laid garlands on the young Tablaa player's shoulders, they would be destroying the own esteemed reputations. Khudo Singh, the disciple of a famous pakhzwaj family, was the first to step forward and he declared, "Of all the drummers I have heard in my lifetime, Ram Sahay is the best. " The other musicians followed suit and presented garlands to Ram Sahay. The young master, with the legendary humility of the great, refused to be garlanded and instead asked for help from those present. One Tabla player, Salar Khan, immediately offered Ram Sahay his entire traditional knowledge.

Others volunteered to teach the boy rare compositions that only they knew. Shortly after the music gathering concluded, Wajid Ali Shah called Modhu Khan and Ram Sahay to his palace. He presented Ram Sahay with two diamond and two emerald necklaces, four elephants, 400,000 rupees, bolts of the finest silk, and gold jewelry. The nawab then ordered Modhu Khan to allow Ram Sahay to return to Banaras to see his family whom he had left twelve years earlier.

In Banaras, Ram Sahay eagerly learned new compositions and practiced faithfully. From the pakhwaj player Khudo Singh he learned gaja paran, "elephant composition, " which could tame wild elephants if played properly. From another player he learned a chakradar paran by which a cocoanut could be blown to bits with the correct combination of strokes. Popular history has it that Ram Sahay learned compositions that could bring rain, that could extinguish the flame in a clay oil lamp, and that could invoke the gods.

By this time, Ram Sahay had become a well-known concert performer, and his fellow Tablaa players grew jealous of his success. They concocted a plan among themselves to stop Ram Sahay and thus promote their own chances. One night, Ram Sahay was playing a concert when a man who had been bribed by the dissident Tabla players stood up in the middle of the performance and said, 'When we hear you play, master, it seems as if God made the tabla only for you. " Another stood in the back row shouted out, "Listen friend, you've got to remember that he was lucky to have learned in Lucknow. No one from Banaras could play like this. " Ram Sahay was very proud of Banaras and was hurt by the man's statement. When a fist-fight broke out between Ram Sahay's loyal followers and the conspiring musicians and their associates Ram Sahay rose up from behind his drums: "What the second man said is true. The future will judge me as a musician born in Banaras but playing the Lucknow style. From today onward, I will not touch the Tabla because no matter how many innovations I may create, it will all be attributed to Lucknow. Though I love my teacher and will always be grateful for his teaching, I love my city and feel I can't esTablaish it as a unique musical city because of my history.

" Ram Sahay's admirers were upset. His Banaras relatives and the elders of the city prevailed on him to change his mind, calling him a fool for ruining his career because of a madman's words. Ram Sahay agreed that the words were those of a madman, but that musicians and musicologists of the future would say the same thing: that he played the Lucknow Gharana in Banaras. Ram Sahay's uncle, understanding his nephew's determination, suggested that if he was no longer going to play publicly, he should at least teach others what he had learned. Ram Sahay accepted this proposition and, after a respite of six months during which he wrote down his repertoire and theory of music, he began to teach his brothers Janaki, Gauri, and Ishwari, and six other disciples from outside his immediate family.

Ram Sahay completely altered the traditional placement of the fingers on the Tabla head. The use of the ring firger as a main stroking finger, unique to the Banaras style, was introduced at this time. People in Banaras were shocked at Ram Sahay's new methods. His uncle couldn't bear this departure from tradition and demanded an explanation.

Ram Sahay presented his uncle with the manuscript he had been working on for six months -"The Banaras Ba'j ." Ram had created, analyzed, and rationalized the style on paper. The new style was suitable for any type of music from heavy classical dhrupad singing, (usually accompanied by the pakhwaj drum), to the lighter forms of thumri and tappa, to all styles of instrumental music, and lastly, to Kathak dance, a specialty of Banaras and Lucknow. Ram Sahay's uncle was still displeased, since Pakhawaj strokes were introduced on the Tabla, a practice considered "impure. " Ram Sahay countered that his disciples would learn both sets of strokes so that they could accompany any kind of music.

Many years passed, and Ram Sahay, who had not married, decided to become a sadhu or wandering holy man, and made pilgrimages to the sacred places of Hinduism.

A nephew of Ram Sahay's named Bhairav Sahay became the last disciple of the Tabla master; he spent the last six years of his life training the boy. On his death bed Ram Sahay predicted a glorious musical future for Bhairav, whom he felt would spread the new Banaras style throughout India. Bhairav Sahay often went to pray at the shrine of Lord Bhairav in the Nici Bag area of Banaras where drummers before him had prayed for strength in their lifetime goal of constant music practice. By the age of eighteen, Bhairav Sahay was regarded as the finest Tabla player ever heard in Banaras . His ceaseless devotion to practice earned him the astonished respect of the old experts.

Once Bhairav Sahay was invited by the Maharajah of Nepal, Bahadur Sinha, to perform at a large musical gathering. Niyamatulla Khan, the most famous sarod player of the day, was also invited, and Bhairav Sahay was selected as his accompanist. Together, these two masters turned out new improvisations, tempo changes and technique variations that dazzled the listeners. During the larant or "fighting" style of improvisation when each artist tries to outdo the other by taking the other's material and complicating it slightly, the experts in the audience gasped in astonishment. Niyamatulla Khan laid down his instrument and proclaimed, "Bhairav Sahay is not a Tabla player, he is an angel from heaven. God has given eyes to each of his fingers so that whenever a singer or instrumentalist begins his improvisation, those fingers visualize it and reproduce it instantly. " The Maharajah was so pleased at Bhairav Sahay's playing that he presented him with a costly rifle and sword.

The disciples of Bhairav Sahay were his own son Baldev Sahay, and Ehagavan Mishra. The direct descendants of Ram Sahay and Bhairav Sahay were many and their musical virtuosity has become legend in Banaras and amongst Hindustani music concerts.

Baldev Sahay, the son of Bhairav Sahay and an excellent Tabla player in his own right, had many famous students. His own son, known as Durga Sahay or "Nannu" Sahay, was considered as one of the greats of his day. This blind musician, who died at the age of thirty-four, was supposed to have a smooth technique and a fierce concentration in his disciplined practice throughout his life. He is particularly known for his speed of execution. Kanthe Maharaj, a name familiar throughout the Indian music community, was also a disciple of Baldev Sahay, as well as being his cousin. Legend has it that Kanthe Maharaj's father was had no son and hence used to pray to god for it. Often he went to the Ganesha temple in Kabirchowra to pray for hours at a time, for a son. One day, a priest of the temple overheard the prayers and immediately brought the man some prasaad telling him that if his wife ate the prasad before the sun was at its peak, she would bear a son. That night, Kanthe Maharaj's mother had a dream that a chain of fire was entering into her heart. The priest from the temple was called and he predicted that the boy to be born would become a great musician.

Kanthe Maharaj , who was the drean of the Banaras Gharana , died in 1969. With him vanished a unique style and a unique approach to the aesthetics of tabla playing. He believed that for every raga there should be a specific Tabla sound produced and that of each raga had a corresponding tala rasa. For every raga, he believed there are slight changes made to suit the rasa of the piece. In order to produce this feeling on the drums, Kanthe Maharaj mastered the dynamics of the loosely tuned left-hand drum, the bayan. Through proper control of the pressure on the bayan head, he produced an amazing variety of tones and could even play a complete scale, with each note clearly heard, just by shifting the weight and position of the heel of his left hand. Kanthe Maharaj was not interested in mathematical drills, only in clarity of sound. It is said that the only exercise he practiced was a slow, "na dhin dhin na, " while he concentrated on the exactness of each stroke. Kanthe Maharaj's unique and prominent style and vision is still remembered and respected.