Diverse strains- article by Shubha Mudgal - Page 2

Shubha Mudgal, a rare artiste

LAST year at the exhibition of prints of Padshanama at the National Museum, I heard Shubha Mudgal live for the first time. It was a song in praise of Emperor Jehangir composed by one of his courtiers and set to music by Mudgal. I was transported to ethereal heights and imagined that rulers of the Mughal dynasty were listening to her in rapt attention. I know very little of Pukka raags and can't tell Asavari from Deepak. I presumed since the song was in praise of an emperor, it must be Raag Darbari. It turned out to be Bheem Palassee.

However, there and then, I decided to cultivate this beautiful woman. Though a little buxom, she has silken soft skin, large gazelle eyes and a heavenly voice. She was taken aback by the compliments I showered on her but did not respond. She had to suffer my enthusiastic effusions once again when I interviewed her for Star TV series Not a Nice Man to Know.

A day before the interview, as Sadia Dehlavi was driving me home, she asked: "Would you like to hear Shubha Mudgal's latest hit?" The word 'hit' sounded discordant. Soon the car was resounding with a chorus of voices— half qawaali, half pop — singing Ali Morey Angna. Shubha's voice was barely audible: she has a very powerful voice full of resonance. The song was catchy enough but I did not expect a purist like Shubha making such a compromise. Did she do it to make more money?

When I put the question to her, she gave me cryptic reply: "My name Shubha is from Saraswati, the goddess of learning. She is on notoriously bad terms with Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth. Money and I don't go together."

Strange! Shubha was born into a Bania family of Allahabad. Both parents were professors of English literature but classical Hindustani music and Kathak were their passions. Shubha was put through both and of her own opted for singing. From Allahabad she came to Delhi where she was trained under a number of distinguished ustaads. She married into a very musical family. The marriage did not hold. She divorced her husband (He is now a Judge of the Delhi High Court) and devotes her time entirely to music, her son and her Dalmatians.

Shubha Mudgal has taken to experimenting and creating music to cater for different situations. She composed the music for Mira Nair's film Kama Sutra and for Sonal Mansingh's ballet. She demonstrated how music can be used to convey anger and joy as command and submission — in fact for every human situation. Her one regret is that pioneers and inventors never get what is due to them in terms of money or recognition because as soon as others smell success, they cash in with immitations.

The law of copyright is full of holes and pirates can get away with murder. The late Gulshan Kumar was able to hire new singers at a low rate and make cassettes of old film favourites and bhajans, market them at prices much lower than those of originals and make a last buck. She also has bones to pick with producers who arrange concerts for her over the phone and at the last minute cancel them without consideration of the time and money she has spent preparing for them. Despite all the skullduggery in the world of music and her disappointment with the patronage of the state through AIR, Doordarshan, the Sangeet Natak Akademi and the ICCR, Shubha continues undaunted with her punishing schedule of riaaz many hours a day. Her most faithful audience comprises two Dalmatians who are her constant companions.

Their ears pick up as she touches the strings of her Tanpura. "When I sing a particular note, one of my dogs begins to sing with me", she told me with a laugh, "One of them can even change its tone with mine". So, besides the many students she teaches, she also has a singing Dalmatian.

If you have not heard Shubha Mudgal sing, you have missed a very rare experience