GIRIJA DEVI
Queen of thumri

Girija Devi, the living legend in Indian classical vocal music, was recently in Calcutta, on her way to the US for a month-long tour. She offered some insights into her life, her music, her values. After nearly five decades in music, Girija Devi today, is one of the two most respected and widely known exponents of thumri, the light classical form of Hindustani music, the other being Shobha Gurtu. “You cannot put a value on what we are doing because we have dedicated our entire lives to art,” says Girija Devi, in response to a question on why, within the guru shishya parampara, instead of accepting the tution fees offered by one of her disciple, Sunanda Sharma’s father, she chooses to place the money in a bank account in the girl’s name. Sharma sends Girija Devi a thousand-and-odd rupees every month towards guru dakshina for tutoring his daughter. But Girija Devi does not accept this.

“I have sung before some of the greatest artistes India has produced but I also concede that times have changed and to a certain extent, we must adjust to these changes, like it or not. I have discovered that it is possible to compromise without diluting my music for my audience. Audience these days want a little bit of this and a little bit of that, what you would call a ‘package programme.’ They want to hear a bit of Ali Akbar Khan, a bit of Girija Devi, and watch a bit of a Birju Maharaj Kathak recital. So, I have adapted to suit these tastes. I have taught myself to condense my concerts to present shorter, digestible pieces. And there is a very positive side to this variety. This way, people can imbibe a sense of the immense variety of Hindustani music from the serious khayal to the light dadra to a lilting folk number. But I am always conscious of not ever compromising on the purity of the raaga or making a khichdi of the gharana,” she insists.

Born in Benares in 1929, Girija Devi started music lessons at the age of five from well-known singer-sarangi player Pandit Sarju Prasad Misra and then, after he passed away, she continued her music training from Pandit Chandra Misra. “I received training from the Senia Gharana for khayal to begin with. For light songs, Bade Ramdasji and Chhote Ramdasji of Varanasi trained me for some time. I did take lessons in Dhrupad as well because it gives classical singers a solid base. But too much of the changing pitches in the dhrupad affects the voice of female singers, tending to invest it with a masculine tenor.

So I did not sing dhrupad very much. Light classical numbers have been my main forte and my major strength. Thumri, dadra, kajri, hori, chaiti and lavni, these have been my constant companions in music,” informs Girija Devi.
Married at the age of 16 and receiving considerable encouragement and support from her husband, Girija Devi rose to become one of the most outstanding living legends in Indian classical vocal music. Her first public concernt was in Bihar in 1951. Private concerts were an area her husband ruled out. She is not only one of the leading vocalists in the dominant classical genre of the Khayal, but also in lighter forms of North Indian classical music including tappa and tap-khyal. Girija Devi is to Hindustani music what K.K. Pattammal is to Carnatic music for their purposeful commitment in upholding music.

“I believe in the saying - Jaisi bahe bahaar, peeth vaise de dijiye which means - see which way the wind is blowing and turn your back accordingly so that you don’t confront it,” says Girija Devi matter-of-factly, when asked how she reacts to the changing audience profile for pure Hindusthani classical music in India.
Over the years, Girija Devi has collected a string of titles and awards - doctorate, Padma Shri, Padma Bhushan, Sangeet Natak Academy Fellowship and a long list of other titles. She has a large number of recordings and regularly broadcasts on television and radio. Yet, the mundane worries of everyday life do not cease to trouble her. Income tax returns for instance. She does not like them one bit, but must make do.

When asked why she quit Calcutta where she had spent more than a decade teaching music, she says, “I still stay in Calcutta for around four months in a year. Varanasi is my birthplace and live there for four months. The remaining four are spent travelling in India and abroad for recitals, performances and music conferences. However, let me add that Calcutta is perhaps, has the best and the largest number of music connoisseurs in the world. This is what brings me back to this city again and again. I even have my own house here. My daughter Sudha Dutta, married to a Bengali, lives here.”

One is amazed to find her full of endless energy, vitality and good humour after 50 years of travelling all over the globe, giving music recitals. How does she do it? “I do not have a magic potion. I lead a simple life, filled with happiness, cheer and music. I not involve myself in needless tension or conflict. When I was very young, I heard musicians in their eighties belting out brilliant music in their liquid honey voices. It was an unforgettable experience to watch how they had conquered age with their talent and their dedication. Today, artistes seem to succumb to age more easily. I involve myself in the daily pooja rituals, practise yoga and meditation. All this helps in increasing concentration and keeping me cheerful all the time.”

Girija Devi lives on, performing, singing, giving recitals at the ripe age of 70 plus, defining the adage that it is usage, and not age, that is important for a creative person. “We are caught in a time-warp we cannot come out of,” she says, “We are trapped somewhere between a time when mehfils lasted forever and artistes were held in the highest regard, and a time where we are constantly facing the market-oriented pressures of today. And I say this not only for myself but for all musicians who have to contend with everything from an indifferent government to an unenlightened patronage,” she says.

She goes on to add, a bit wistfully, “It is bad enough for us that we face a public that disregards classical musicians. But disturbs me the most is the fact that even some younger artistes are disrespectful. One of my greatest concerns are plagiarism. I sing a bandish I have composed one evening and the very next evening, I discover a well-known younger singer repeat it word-for-word, taal for taal without as much as acknowledging the source!”

After 42 years of a music-enriched life, Girija Devi has a rich treasury of bandishes she has composed herself. This reaches beyond her recitals and her concerts because it flows far beyond the different facets of her vocalism, specially inherent in her Dhrupads and her Khayals, characterised as they are, by a striking note of tenderness and human love. Yet, she laments that she can no longer sing her really special music in public.

Shoma A. Chatterji