We never really tried to document the lives of our great musicians and this book definitely fills a gap there. And for me Atrauli Jaipur Gharana is the staple of my daily music binge. And all i had ever heard were random anecdotes about the giants of this gharana from the past. Now I can feel their flesh and bone, so to say, instead of groping in the air.

And if you are under Kesar Bai’s magic then this is definitely the book to read. Not a lot about Bade Khan Sahib although. I have never even heard his voice, but what a genius to have given birth to such ineffable style.

There is one thing which troubled me a lot. It is Kesarbai’s marked reluctance to get her music recorded and her paranoia about her music being stolen. Does creativity come with such a possessiveness always? Is there something pathologically destructive in the creative act, something that seeks to consume that which it produces? It is as if she wants history to mourn her, to remember and feel cheated out of a treat it can only imagine.

Sometimes I feel as if all of classical music thrives on this looking back in loss and frustration. One always feels “Kahan gaye woh Log?”. Is it really so? Have we always thus declined? Lost our knowledge and skill always, till all is lost?

Sorry for ranting on, but do read the book.

Thanks,
Arijit