Mei Begum Akhtar ke naam par
Ek sher kehti hoon
Yeh sher unka naam karti hoon

- Amrita Pritam

In Ae Mohabbat… Reminiscing Begum Akhtar, Rita Ganguly (assisted by Jyoti Sabharwal) attempts to offer an insight into the life of one of her teachers, the celebrated singer Begum Akhtar. Tracing the singer’s life from her birth in 1914 through her poverty-ridden childhood, her rise to stardom and her death in 1974, Ganguly tries to explain to us how the persona of the singer evolved out of the events in her life. The book also offers an insight into the intricacies of ghazal-singing, as well as Begum Akhtar’s own contribution to the world of Indian classical music.

Ganguly makes extensive use of her association with Begum Akhtar while elaborating on the singer’s life and thoughts. Much of what she writes is attributed to ‘Ammi’ (the name by which she addressed Begum Akhtar). However, the book’s argument is buttressed by the large number of testimonials from Akhtar’s contemporaries and peers, who testify to the unique position she had created for herself, and the loss suffered by the world of music on account of her demise.

The sections dealing with the technical aspects of singing – be it khayal, thumri or ghazal - are fairly comprehensible, even to a lay reader. Apart from minor technical quibbles, these sections present an interesting account of the way in which the singer strives to build up the aesthetic aspect of her music, looking beyond mere technical excellence and striving to infuse a spiritual quality into it. Another interesting component of these sections is the coverage of Akhtar’s use of Urdu poetry and her interactions with those Urdu poets who were her contemporaries such as Kaifi Azmi, Jigar Moradabadi and Shakeel Badayuni, among others. The anecdotes illustrating her friendship with the music directors Madan Mohan and Khayyam (though in the latter case, the interaction is more professional than convivial) are valuable as they offer us an insight into a relationship between two worlds – that of the Hindi film industry and classical music – that is almost non-existent in our times.

A large number of the ghazals sung by Begum Akhtar find mention in the text, often with the circumstances under which they were set to music by her. The list is interesting on account of its scope – apart from Akhtar’s contemporaries mentioned earlier, it also features Jalaluddin Rumi, Bahadur Shah Zafar and Mirza Ghalib. In fact, poetry appears continuously throughout the book – the ‘Foreword’ is a translation of a poem by Amrita Pritam that was written especially for this book, the chapters usually start with a couplet set to music or performed by Akhtar. Ganguly’s account of how she came to write this book also seeks to appear poetic, by linking it to her search for what she calls ‘saccha gaana’.

There are a large number of black-and-white photographs in the book. Most of them show Begum Akhtar in various situations, testifying to different facets of her personality. Some of them (especially the ones showing her singing or practicing) give us a very different picture of a woman described as imperious and diva-like in her nature. In fact, throughout the book, Ganguly harps on (a little too strongly, I think) on Akhtar’s humility, her large-heartedness and her sense of fairness in certain respects. Her transformation from Akhtaribai Faizabadi to Begum Akhtar is also regarded as an event of magnitude as far as the acceptance of a professional singing woman into conservative society is concerned. Ganguly’s avowed aim is to put at rest the more salacious rumours surrounding the life of Begum Akhtar. In this, she is not entirely successful – many of the rumours surrounding Begum Akhtar’s life go unaddressed.

Ganguly’s championing of the role played by professional singing women in preserving and carrying forward the tradition of classical music has been part of her research work as a musicologist, and the arguments she puts forward are fairly compelling. However, it is difficult to accept her suggestion in its entirety that most of the major ustads were of necessity indebted to professional women for their singing skills, given that she offers little more to substantiate this assertion apart from mentioning the names of baijis who had regular interactions with celebrated singers of the calibre of Abdul Karim Khan, Amir Khan and Bade Ghulam Ali Khan.

It is this feature that recurs frequently and ultimately serves to detract from the rest of the book. Like many other classical musicians, Ganguly uses the book as an opportunity to put down rivals, both those of Begum Akhtar and herself. The number of personal accusations in this book is legion, and Ganguly sometimes fails to offer any rationale for the inclusion of a particularly vitriolic statement within the narrative. The conspiracy theories she sometimes takes recourse to are not substantiated; hence, they actually serve to harm the character of the singer associated with it. Ganguly also includes (unnecessarily, in my opinion) anecdotes from her own life and musical career, often having no link to the narrative she seeks to unfold.

In sum, the book is a fair attempt at the examination of a very complex character. The prose style is good, even though it tends to get somewhat verbose at times. Its USP lies in the wealth of information it has to offer about the ghazals sung by Begum Akhtar, along with the account of her life. There is also some valuable information about the other musicians with whom Ganguly came into contact while she was receiving her training – Siddheswari Devi and Shambhu Maharaj, for example. Yet, the personal attacks and implied conspiracies do not help the book, which would have read better had there been less Rita Ganguly and more Begum Akhtar in it.

Somnath Basu is currently doing his M.Phil in English from Jadavpur University.

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