In the 64th year of his passing, memories of Kundan Lal Saigal (or Sehgal, if you'll have it that way) remain just below the surface of one's consciousness. He died when I was barely two years old but his songs and his singing were already being drummed into me repeatedly by dad (God bless his musical soul!) and his records. Saigal's death on January 17, 1947 was the first cultural trauma that music lovers experienced in post-independence India and all through time his memory has been kept alive, albeit in decreasing decibels of intensity, by various cultural associations formed by a generation that is clearly on its way out.
True, Radio Ceylon spearheaded the movement of keeping him alive not only daily when it played a Saigal chant at about 7:55a.m., marking the end of its 'पुरानी फिल्मों के संगीत का कार्यक्रम', but also by devoting an entire commercial-free hour on the singer's death anniversary: that was a lot in those days, for a shortwave radio station that ran for only three hours each a.m. and p.m. For those of you who remember, the great Gopal Sharma at first and later the more eloquent Manohar Mahajan after Sharmaji retired, fueled our growing love for KLS with their ad libs, as they played the songs! In later years, however, it has remained the lot of private musical bodies to keep memories alive. The halcyon days of Radio Ceylon have long since ended.
Although by now everyone from my generation is familiar with the man and his legends, I have always wanted to write something about KLS: never got a chance to do so during my days at the newspaper at home and much less after having settled abroad: except, during a short stint at a local radio station trying my best to jump-start a flagging interest in the vintage film music of India.
And one fine summer's afternoon the spark caught fire, or so I thought. In an amusing manner the experience drove home to me the point that the generation had changed once more and that I was flogging a dead horse! The radio station was beamed, and is still being beamed although I am not a part of it, from the Rutgers University campus in New Brunswick, N.J. and most of my listeners were of my own age whose eyes moistened at the mere mention of a song. What I played gave them a chance to call me up off-the-mike and give vent to nostalgia.
My yen to impart a bit of history with each track that I spun kindled a bit of curiosity among the students who tuned in to WRSU and sometimes I was pleasantly surprised by a young voice asking me the meaning of a word or complimenting my style. On this particular afternoon....
"Kersi Mistry.....?" asks the voice trailing off....decidedly Indian
"Yes, who's this....?"
"I'm calling from the dorm...."
"Okay, what can I do for you...."
"Could you play a song by Sehgal....?"
I hold my breath~this is a personal compliment!
"Sure thing, what do you want to listen to...."
"Anything, I just love his singing". This, clearly, was a kid whose dad was probably like mine!
"OK, next week: I am not carrying anything by him today."
"Thanks" says he, as he signs off.
The following Sunday I play the immortal and ever-reverberating "जब दिल ही टूट गया, हम जीके क्या करेंगे"from 'Shahjahan' (the last-but-one film in which Saigal-saab starred) in honour of the previous week's conversation, and wait in vain for a call acknowledging it! Another Sunday comes around and I pick up the phone....
"Kersi....."
"Yes"
"When are you going to play my song....?
"What do you mean.....I played a Saigal track just for you....last week"
"I know, I heard it....but that was not the Sehgal I had in mind...."
"Then, who...."
"I wanted to listen to something by Baba Sehgal......but you know what, this fellow wasn't too bad!"
I wanted to kick myself for not keeping up with the times....almost did.
I guess I would like to commemorate that encounter and my decades of listening to KL Saigal by playing the same song....one more time. Please tell me this is the one you were waiting for....
True, Radio Ceylon spearheaded the movement of keeping him alive not only daily when it played a Saigal chant at about 7:55a.m., marking the end of its 'पुरानी फिल्मों के संगीत का कार्यक्रम', but also by devoting an entire commercial-free hour on the singer's death anniversary: that was a lot in those days, for a shortwave radio station that ran for only three hours each a.m. and p.m. For those of you who remember, the great Gopal Sharma at first and later the more eloquent Manohar Mahajan after Sharmaji retired, fueled our growing love for KLS with their ad libs, as they played the songs! In later years, however, it has remained the lot of private musical bodies to keep memories alive. The halcyon days of Radio Ceylon have long since ended.
Although by now everyone from my generation is familiar with the man and his legends, I have always wanted to write something about KLS: never got a chance to do so during my days at the newspaper at home and much less after having settled abroad: except, during a short stint at a local radio station trying my best to jump-start a flagging interest in the vintage film music of India.
And one fine summer's afternoon the spark caught fire, or so I thought. In an amusing manner the experience drove home to me the point that the generation had changed once more and that I was flogging a dead horse! The radio station was beamed, and is still being beamed although I am not a part of it, from the Rutgers University campus in New Brunswick, N.J. and most of my listeners were of my own age whose eyes moistened at the mere mention of a song. What I played gave them a chance to call me up off-the-mike and give vent to nostalgia.
My yen to impart a bit of history with each track that I spun kindled a bit of curiosity among the students who tuned in to WRSU and sometimes I was pleasantly surprised by a young voice asking me the meaning of a word or complimenting my style. On this particular afternoon....
"Kersi Mistry.....?" asks the voice trailing off....decidedly Indian
"Yes, who's this....?"
"I'm calling from the dorm...."
"Okay, what can I do for you...."
"Could you play a song by Sehgal....?"
I hold my breath~this is a personal compliment!
"Sure thing, what do you want to listen to...."
"Anything, I just love his singing". This, clearly, was a kid whose dad was probably like mine!
"OK, next week: I am not carrying anything by him today."
"Thanks" says he, as he signs off.
The following Sunday I play the immortal and ever-reverberating "जब दिल ही टूट गया, हम जीके क्या करेंगे"from 'Shahjahan' (the last-but-one film in which Saigal-saab starred) in honour of the previous week's conversation, and wait in vain for a call acknowledging it! Another Sunday comes around and I pick up the phone....
"Kersi....."
"Yes"
"When are you going to play my song....?
"What do you mean.....I played a Saigal track just for you....last week"
"I know, I heard it....but that was not the Sehgal I had in mind...."
"Then, who...."
"I wanted to listen to something by Baba Sehgal......but you know what, this fellow wasn't too bad!"
I wanted to kick myself for not keeping up with the times....almost did.
I guess I would like to commemorate that encounter and my decades of listening to KL Saigal by playing the same song....one more time. Please tell me this is the one you were waiting for....
