ENTERTAINMENT
Coming from a lineage of seven generations of legendary musicians and being the daughter of sitar maestro Ustad Vilayat Khan, it might have been easy for Ustad Maa Zila Khan to get entrenched in the family's long-held traditions of music. She chose however to find her own voice, and that process of self-discovery has today earned her the title — Sufi legend of the new millenium. Ahead of her concert in the city, Shilpa Bansal gets up, close and personal with this musically blue-blooded artiste.
You were the first woman from your family to sing publicly.Was the journey difficult?
It was very difficult. It’s very difficult to be the way one is in a man’s world and it’s going to be a struggle for a woman in any field at least for two more generations.
My father taught me like a son and he changed the trend, but changing the mindsets of the rest of the people around, that was difficult. There were a lot of people who tried to stop me from coming up, but I believe nobody can stop you if you stick to sublime music and engage in art with dignity.
In your earlier interviews you have mentioned that you began your career a bit late, after almost nine years of leading a homemaker’s life. Why?
My formal 14-hour-a-day training started when I was 12-years-old, but I chose to perform late. I became a mother at 24 and I was almost 28-years-old when I gave my first solo stage performance. I had done a few shows with my father when I was young, but he was very particular about my riyaaz. I still remember when Hari chacha (Pt. Hariprasad Chaurasia) was composing music for the film Lamhe, he wanted me to lend my voice to the Morni song.
He requested my dad, but my dad said, ‘Nahi Hari bhai abhi nahi.’ He actually told chacha that if Zila gets into this habit of shortcut to fame, which comes from background singing, she will not have time for riyaaz and classical music will lose a very powerful voice. But after I got married, he kept insisting me to take my career forward, but I chose to actually relish the motherhood phase. That was a personal choice.
Carrying a family torch and representing one of the most-respected gharanas. What kind of responsibilities does that come with?
I never felt any pressure. I never felt burdened because it wasn’t expected from a woman to carry traditions. If my father chose me as a successor, that was his vision. I did emulate his style, but didn’t carry any burden at all.
Your dad was a sitar maestro, but you chose to become a singer. What drew you towards sufi music?
It was my calling. I do classical concerts and I do teach classical and folk music to my students. But what I am is not what I chose. I was drawn towards it. It is very similar to pursuing some degree — as years pass by, you become clearer about what you want to become in life. It’s easy for me to say — I got a vision and all that, but no, it wasn’t as simple as that.
You chose to break away from the tradition and have come long way to create your own identity; a unique individual style...
My musicality has evolved over the years and my style of singing is indeed very different. I have always been myself. I believe you shouldn’t encrypt someone else’s lines on your palm, only then will you have your line. It is sad that sons and daughters of many legends don’t do well because they try to imitate their fathers and mothers and are not able to create their own style. I’m a free soul and I think my dad realised that. He saw it in me and let me be myself and didn’t try to tame or curb my style. I would have been singing even if my dad would have stopped me.
And in this process of creating your own identity, do you think it’s easy to take forward that family legacy?
Even my father didn’t follow the style of his father. He lost his dad when he was 10 and was trained by his maternal grandfather and uncle and his style changed completely. One should be pure to his style. I did it and that’s why I am the singer that I’m and not the
sitarist he was.
What is that one indelible memory of your father that you will always carry with you? And what’s that one advice of his that’s become a mantra you swear by?
My father always told me: You can learn everything from me, but your essence will always be yours. The beauty of his teaching was that he never curbed my essence and I will never forget that.
One of the comments on a link which had a video of your performance reads: ‘I don’t understand the language, but it sounds so beautiful.’ What according to you is the power that music holds that connects every soul; touches every heart?
Naad (sound) is the power. The vibrations and the way it is projected is what makes it so powerful. Just like when you hear the mantras, you may not understand it, but you feel mesmerised. We singers are just the projectors of sound — better the projector, better the experience is for the audience.
During your performances how do you manage to build that connect with your audience?
When I perform, I come to a point where I reach a sublime state. And that’s my nasha, my high and I perform for that high. And this is the point when my audience flies with me. And that’s how I connect with them.
What do you expect the audience to take back from your performance?
I want them to sing and fly with me. I’m going to sing shlokas and sufiana kalam. This is not a performance, but an experience and I want them to share this experience with me.
Ustad Maa Zila Khan will perform at DPS Whitefield Grounds, 7pm onwards, on June 22, for tickets visit www.bookmyshow.com
Her vision
UstadGah, the idea that shaped into an institution in 2008, is the vision of Zila Khan to provide opportunities for the lesser privileged but musically talented children who do not have the ability to shape their talent and fulfill their dreams.
For every girl child
My fight to come up and be the first woman from my gharana to sing publicly was a fight for every girl child. To create awareness about how they too need to be encouraged to pursue their dreams. In fact, that’s what my album, Zila The Girl Child, is all about. The reason behind carrying my family name was to send a message out that I have come so far, and if any girl is given a chance she will not only become independent and powerful, but will earn so well that she can take care of generations.