The Musical Hanuman

Varanasi's Sankat Mochan Sangeet Samaroh celebrates the city, and the Indian classical music tradition

Published by First Post on 16th April here. 

Thanks are due to friends and colleagues for the (almost) daily trips to Sankat Mochan during the event, sharing music, sweets and else; 

First Post and Rohini.

Ghulam Mustafa Khan, mesmerising at 88 and a recent recipient of the Padma Vibhushan, sang a bhajan in Bhairvi. Nizami Brothers, of the Hazrat Nizamuddin Dargah fame, sang Amir Khusrau’s Chaap Tilap, one of the few songs that elicited requests for an encore. Rashid Khan had the audience requesting specific songs and when he got up after his allotted time successfully urge him to take the stage again for yet another rendition.  Moinuddin Khan was also among the performers.

Artists of this stature may often be a part of an event’s line up so why it is worth writing about? Well, because the event was held in a temple – the Sankat Mochan Temple in Banaras, no less.

The Sankat Mochan Music Festival (aka Sankat Mochan Sangeet Samaroh) is a musical event which throws the western concept of concert out of the window. The acoustics are at best average, there is no hall - audience fits itself into spaces within the temple precincts, devotees’ visits to temple continue (Saturday, being the day for Hanuman, witnessed quite the rush), people chat and move around. But, as I realized, this is a festival which has its heart in the right place. One where the organizers managing are clear about what they’re doing, and the artists on stage are all smiles. It is ‘Indian’ at the core - fuzzy as the term may be, it’s apt in describing the ambience. Entrenched in local mores, the appreciation is not controlled claps but a very Banarasi ‘Har Har Mahadev’(with both hands raised and vocal chords stretched); the stage is simple, basic and small, and the event has open and free access and is decidedly non-elitist. T M Krishna, during a recent visit to Banaras, had talked of caste and hierarchy in Indian music – he has eloquently elaborated on the topic in his columns and books – I am curious what he would have made of this festival.

The festival, a 2 day event during 1960’s, has by its 96^th edition in 2018 become a 6 day (rather, night) affair. Beginning at 7.30 pm, the performances last well into the morning hours. A photo exhibition is also organized at the venue. The absence of mobile phones (banned in the temple since the 2006 bomb blasts) helps, as does the presence of the prasad shop. The sweets here are well-known even in this town of sweets, lal-peda and besan-laddu being the stars. The ‘uncle’ at the water-point hums and sings as he pours water into the cupped palms of thirsty music lovers and devotees. Conscious simplicity also meant less generation of plastic trash.

Nandini Majumdar in ‘Why the Sankat Mochan Music Festival in Banaras is so special’ states “A festival like Sankat Mochan – in which artists perform for free, citing their devotion to Hanuman as a reason for doing so, in which ordinary people turn up in the hundreds all night long to listen to ‘classical’ music, and in which the overall ethos is one of the intimate, the humble and the humane – is an example of living, practiced, everyday bhakti that is quite amazing to witness, and is a striking reminder of how it continues to infuse life for many in India’s smaller places with meaning.”

It is only befitting that an event which is emblematic of diversity is helmed by a person with wide range of interests. Vishwambhar Nath Mishra, the mahant of the iconic temple, which is believed to have established by Tulsidas (who wrote Ramcharitmanas) during 1500’s, is a professor of Microelectronics at the Indian Institute of Technology, Banaras Hindu University. He is also the President of the Sankat Mochan Foundation which is at the forefront of a movement for cleaning the Ganga.

Coming back to the artists the mind-blowing line up of the festival this year also included Niladri Kumar, Vijay Ghate, Sonal Mansingh, Dr. L Subramanium,  Birju Mahara, Malini Awasthi and Hari Prasad Chaurasia besides others.

It is not just the artists but also the audience who maketh a festival! The local newspapers mentioned Radheshyam Tiwari of Patna who celebrated a golden jubilee of attending the event during this year’s edition. A friend when asked of whether he would attend that evening replied ‘if Birju Maharaj can dance at 80, I can surely attend at 65’. He came on most days with a steady companion – his pillow. Many in the audience happily lay (provided they found the space) in the open courtyard and enjoyed the music and mahaul on the large screen. The festival did broadcast performances live on Facebook! Local newspapers also highlighted a well-known out-station school visiting – the local schools however were conspicuous by their absence. Where else could students experience music of this calibre at such close quarters I wondered.

Banarasi is the term which best describes the festival – like the town it is difficult to comprehend, thrives on chaos and defies logic. And despite all this, much like town, has an indefinable quality to it which makes it work – it touches people and how!