Songs Of The Dunes: Barkat Khan Manganiyar On A Life Devoted To Music

Jangdas are about bravery and war and valour, but they can also be about love, longing, devotion; about celebrations and festivities. The style in which you sing them makes all the difference. You need style. You need to keep your voice strong. You have to be smart in using murki (quick, delicate ornamentation) and taan (rapid series of vocal notes) …I have inherited this music and it’s my duty to share it with others. In my community, children are not taught sa-re-ga-ma when they are born. There is no formal training like that. They pick up these songs; learn to play our instruments. That’s the way it goes. All artists, whether it is traditional musicians like us or dancers or actors, we are here to entertain audiences. To make them happy.

Everything has changed. Our music is in danger of dying. Audiences are easily distracted these days: by television and mobile phones, by film songs, some of which get even the basics of ragas wrong! I see people talking loudly when an artist is performing on stage during a concert. They don’t think twice about letting mobiles ring and interrupting the music’s flow…If we are serious about preserving and sustaining folk music, it is vital to teach it to youngsters. These songs are not just songs; they are our history, the life breath of our culture. The new generation will lose out if they are cut off from their heritage. That would be a terrible tragedy. The sounds of kamaichas (stringed instruments), dhol (drums), sarangi and kartal (cymbals) must not fade away. Komal dada [Komal Kothari who studied Rajasthan’s folklore and music extensively] used to organise camps where classes were held. At the camps, I would teach young people about our singing style, our instruments, the colourful stories behind our songs. We met classical musicians in some camps, listened to them sing, exchanged notes with them. The camps also gave me a chance to interact with other hereditary communities from Rajasthan like the Langas. That helped me to understand their songs and style of playing better. We don’t usually get to do that even though we are from the same State.

I have fond memories of participating in Apna Utsav (1986) at Delhi where so many folk artists from across India had come to perform. That was during Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi’s time. After that, he also sent us to Russia for a few months. People appreciated our performances there. One thing I’ve noticed is that audiences outside India are very interested in our folk tradition. They pay attention to the languages in which our songs are sung, the stories that accompany each song. They seem to appreciate our music more than our own people!

I think it’s important to ask: who is gaining from these fights? Who keeps them going? These divisions are being exploited for political gains. This is just a political game. A game that is played to chase after votes. It has nothing to do with the ordinary Indian. We have coexisted for a long time in this country. “My house is mine; your house is yours. My field is my field, your field is yours,” we would say, managing to live our lives without troubling each other. Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Sikhs—we are all friends, we are brothers. I belong to a Muslim community. My repertoire includes Kishenji’s, Ramji’s, Shivji’s and Mirabai’s bhajans. Our jajmans (patrons) are Rajputs. We’ve been eating and drinking with Hindus ever since I can remember. We celebrate all festivals in our village with song and dance.

I sing almost every day—at weddings, birthdays, feasts, festivals like Holi and Teej. In our villages, we are invited to sing when babies are born, when a girl or a boy gets married, when a son-in-law is welcomed to a home. These songs are always on my mind. They come naturally to me [breaks into a song about Amar Singh Rathore of Jodhpur, folk hero and celebrated champion of Marwar]…All music comes from folk music. We add our own touches to classical ragas, we play around, improvise.