And the Sitar encored: Raga Khamaj with Ustad Shahid Parvez

(This article is part of our ongoing series, Ragas to Riches, a collection of my favourite Ragas. The rest of the articles in the series, although unrelated to this one, can be found here)

In one of our previous articles in the Raga to Riches series, we explored a fabulous rendition of Raga Khamaj by Ustad Vilayat Khan. Today, we continue in the Khamaj realm, and enjoy a performance by his nephew and worthy successor, Ustad Shahid Parvez. Of course, as regular readers would know, there won’t be any comparisons.

This recording is from 2006 from a private house concert in Lahore, Pakistan. Parvez starts by mentioning how Khamaj renditions usually start in the higher octave, but he isn’t going to do so. He begins an unhurried alaap, with the lower notes, creating a beautiful sequence and the appreciative audience breaks into a collective ah. Every bit of his alaap is imaginative and worthy of an ah, in my opinion.

At 3:33 and 3:50, he finishes the phrase in a manner, reminiscent of Ustad VIlayat Khan’s style. Needless to say, Parvez does full justice to it. The best moment of the alaap comes at 4:04, when he uses the sequence Ga Ma Dha to pivot the phrase into a wonderful corner, drawing another round of collective sigh of appreciation from the audience. At 5:24, a signature Etawah Gharana phrase makes another appearance. Keen listeners might remember this phrase from our last week’s discussion on Vilayat Khan’s Khamaj.

At 6:26, Shahid Parvez declares his intention to sing the thumri that he is going to perform. Although it has become a trend among some instrumentalists to sing during their  recitals to demonstrate the influence of vocal technique and ornamentation on their instrumental renditions, I have rarely seen Shahid Parvez do it. These vocal interventions were made popular by Ustad Vilayat Khan. His vocal demonstrations were marked by extreme tunefulness, they were indicative of the manner in which he had internalised the vocal idiom, and his instrumental phrasing that followed was proof enough of his passion to recreate all that vocal music had to offer.[1]

Shahid Parvez further clarifies that he doesn’t sing during his performances but the thumri is so beautiful that he felt the need to share the words. When he starts singing, one can be taken by surprise by how melodious he is. Perfectly in tune to the dot and full of minute ornamentations, he nails the Thumri and makes the listener long for more. He recreates the phrases on the instrument with the same precision, displaying how he has blurred the lines between the instrument and the vocal chords, through sheer mastery and inventiveness.

He continues with a passionate portrayal of the thumri, bringing out the facets of Khamaj that are not often brought out. His Khamaj is as playful and chirpy as it is one of surrender and selflessness. Only he can manage both with such apparent ease.

At 12:00, he begins what seems to be a thumri in Gara, invoked through a specialised construct involving maddhyam (ma). I might be wrong here and would request one of the learned readers to correct me if I am. This piece, which might remind some of the famous Lata Mangeshkar song Mohe Panghat pe from Mughal-e-Azam, isn’t subject of our analysis today. Although, I would recommend you to the enjoy this hauntingly beautiful piece as well.

As I wrap up today’s article, my thoughts wander back to Ustad ji’s singing . I have had the honour of meeting him a couple of times, when I have been able to muster up the courage to walk up to him after his concerts. I am making a mental note that the next time I catch hold of him, I will ask him why he doesn’t sing often. Although a part of me already knows what will follow- He will flash his characteristic wry smile, and say how he doesn’t need to sing as his Sitar can do that equally well. Fair enough! Sitar-1, Vocal-0.