It was a case of pure serendipity. While surfing the television a few days ago in search of something interesting, I stumbled upon an Indian Punjabi music channel, MH1. I saw something that hooked me-and gave me a glimpse into the Punjabi culture across the border.
I do not watch music channels because what they broadcast is anything but music. But here a teenager was singing one of my favourite Punjabi folk songs.
It turned out that a singing competition, "Awaz Punjab di," was going on. I liked most of the performances.
The female contestants all had innocent looks, like ordinary teenagers. They were all without any make-up. Their appearance did not have the ostentatious showiness that is so common in Indian television programs. They were all shy as well as nervous. They could hardly speak a complete sentence while answering a question, their voice barely audible. It was too much for them to stand before the judges and the audience. Most touched the stage with their fingers to indicate that they were stepping up to a sacred place.
However, they were totally transformed the moment they started singing. All nervousness was gone as if it was never there. They became completely oblivious of the surrounding, just as we all do when we get absorbed in something that we love to do.
Their choice of songs was proper, with not a trace of vulgarity. Many of their role models were leading Pakistani singers like Nusrat Fateh Ali, Noor Jahan, Ghulam Ali, Shazia Manzoor, Afshan, even Naseebo Lal.
The judges provided an interesting contrast of age and times. Hans Raj Hans is one of the greatest Punjabi singers. (After the death of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, he replaced him as a music teacher in a foreign university.) He was more like a sage or a guru. Another judge, Uttam Singh, a music director, was of the same age and outlook. (He recently composed music for a Pakistani film.) The third one, Sachin Ahuja, was younger and, by contrast, Westernised in his attitude.
While giving their comments on the performances of contestants, Hans and Uttam would convey their criticism indirectly and in very polite words. Rather than saying that somebody's singing was not good, they would urge more practice. They gave all possible encouragement. Sachin, in the Western tradition, spoke plainly, without any regard for the feelings of the neophytes.
All girls were dressed in their best but in conventional shalwar-kameez, with some concessions to fashion. Most had chunnis or dupattas on their shoulders. One had her head covered by her dupatta. Hans Raj liked it and advised her to keep it up because it was "a part of Punjabi culture."
Then he added something profound. "People say it doesn't matter how we dress but it does. Guru Gobind Singh talked of Dastar, Guftar and Raftar. If a Sikh had the proper turban on his head, there was bound to be a positive impact on his speech (Guftar) as well as behaviour (Raftar)." We observe it quite often in our own society. When somebody changes from Western dress to shalwar-kameez, a visible difference becomes apparent in his personality.
On another occasion, Hans noted that a singer was copying exactly the recording of a popular singer that she must have been listening frequently.
Hans pointed out the error by referring to the old practice in schools when a teacher would write alphabets with a pencil on takhti so that the pupil would write on it for practice. "But soon the pupils would start writing on their own," Hans added. "You should also grow out of blindly copying your favourite popular singer and sing in your own way."
While Hans and Uttam did their best to calm and soothe the singers, Sachin was always rather too blunt in his criticism. While the other two behaved like elder teachers, he took it as a critic's task without any unemotional consideration.
In one case, Sachin's comments were too much for a singer. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. Feeling guilty on being too harsh, he asked her the reason. "It was one of my favourite songs but I could not sing it properly," she replied. The hostess, film actress Divya Dutta, did say words of sympathy and encouragement to the weeping singer.
However, one very much expected her to put her arms around the girl to console her, behaving like an elder sister. She did not. Whatever the reason, it was not like a Punjabi.
Tears also came to the eyes of another contestant, who was well beyond teenage years and was studying for M. Phil. on musicology.
Seeing how her father, sitting in the audience, was proud of her selection for the semi-finals of the contest, she was overwhelmed. The daughter's love and regard for her father was certainly a part of the Punjabi culture.