Darbari Kanada

If I can recollect properly, she is Shampa Reja. “Shampadi” we called her. She stayed at Joshiji’s Kalibazar residence. When I went to morning school in Town Primary School, I could hear her riyaz, against sonorous fingering of tanpura. Though she stayed at every possible note during her riyaz and made strenuous vocal work around those notes using small but intricate notational patterns, she tilted towards morning ragas invariably. When Prof.Joshi was away for some work in Lucknow, Shampadi used to take our classes. It was a relief for us, as Joshiji’s rebuke was replaced by a mild indulgence when we missed a note or two badly.
Shampadi was a slice of Bangladesh in our small town Burdwan. She came from there to learn Indian classical music from no other than Prof. Dr. Dhruv Tara Joshi. And in keeping with the classical Indian tradition of learning lessons directly from guru, she stayed at her guru’s house. Joshiji was a Brahmin; Marathi Brahmin.
Joshij’s students once organized a cultural evening on his birthday which falls on first of October. Shampadi was coaxed to sing. She sang Darbari Kanada.
Joshiji wanted not to be cremated, but buried. He had spoken about it quite a few times to his students. He wanted his son-like disciple Golam Imam to take charge of his entire burial process. He wanted to be laid down at a place of Golam Imam’s liking.
His last wish was kept unfulfilled. He was cremated. On the burning pyre, komol ga (minor 3rd) and komol dha (minor 6th) which Shampadi had sung in lower- than- normal- flattening note meticulously, flashed in poignantly. Oti komol – intensely soft — the raging fire seemed.
The Fire now needs to be doused. Tansen, in the court of Emperor Akbar, made the dark nightly notes of ga, dha, ni very mellowed in his Darbari Kanada.