The Delhi Walla has moved to thedelhiwalla.com: February 2010

Saturday, February 27, 2010

City Music - The Real Sufi Stars

The Delhi walla's pretension in writing makes me want to lodge a bullet in his balls - Blogger Nimpipi, the woodchuck chucks
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The qawwals of Hazrat Nizamuddin.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

It is amusing to see Delhiwallas scramble for pricey tickets each time a 'big' sufi music star such as Abida Parveen or Kailash Kher lands in the town for a concert. People can always go each Thursday evening (6.30 pm) to the 14th century shrine of Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya in south Delhi. It's spine-tingling music there and it's free.

As the dargah’s in-house qawwals break into sufi love songs, the mood goes electric. As exciting as ticketed concerts, you sit right alongside the singers and watch their eyes popping out, hands slicing the air, and faces dissolving into momentary madness. These qawwals — almost two dozens are present at any given Thursday performance — are the superstars of Delhi’s sufi music scene. They not only sing in the shrine but are also invited to perform in upper-crust Delhi’s evening soirees. They are in high demand overseas, too. Europe and North America are their regular destinations.

Divided into five groups or ‘parties’, the qawwals live in their own little world. Each group is comprised of a single family. Some family lines are ancient. Two houses, with similar names, stand out — Nizami Khusro Bandhus and Nizami Bandhus. They are related by marriage and both groups claim to have been singing in the dargah for 750 years. Here the parallels end.

The Khusro Nizami Bandhus have an impressive pedigree. Its patriarch, Ustad Meraj Ahmed, is a direct descendant of Ustad Tanras Khan, who was a royal singer at the court of Mughal emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar. The family is known for singing qawwalis in its pure form. Even his rivals acknowledge Ustad Meraj’s grip over the Persian language.

In contrast, Nizami Bandhus are considered to be as good with devotional qawwalis as they are with Bollywood chartbusters. “Khusro Bandhus are fit for a mehfil while Nizami Bandhus are good for collecting crowds,” says Altamash Nizami, a dargah khadim. Both families also sing Hindu bhajans. “We also perform at cocktail parties,” says Shadab Faridi Nizami of the Nizami Bandhus.

Occasionally, tensions arise when families compete for contracts to perform at private functions — where the money is. The concerts are too few and the groups too many; inevitably, the clans clash. However, on Jummeraat (Thursday evenings), all the parties sing together. There is no squabbling for the primary position. Money offered as nazrana is shared equally. And all look like one happy family.

Delhi's two big qawwals

Nizami Khusro Bandhus

Anyone interested in the ‘pure’ form of qawwali cannot afford to overlook this family. Headed by Ustad Meraj Ahmed, it claims to have descended from one of the 12 original qawwal bachhe. They were the first people trained in Sufiana music by Amir Khusrau, the 14th-century Persian poet considered to be the father of qawwalis. While Ustad Meraj has curtailed his performances due to old age, his five sons are carrying on the legacy. Catch them on Friday evenings at Sufi Inayat Ali’s dargah in Nizamuddin Basti.
Contact 9871862479

Nizami Bandhus

This 'party' rocks. Chand Nizami and his two nephews can always be depended upon to deliver electric performances. They draw as much cheer with filmi chartbusters as they do with qawwalis. The family is related to Nizami Khuso Bandhus. Ustad Meraj's late wife was sister to Chand Nizami. He became the head after his elder brother Gulam Farid died in August, 2007.
Contact 9810293913

Music from the dargah

Music from the dargah

Music from the dargah

Dargah's music lovers

Just perfect

Thursday, February 25, 2010

City Secret - Nicholson Cemetery, Kashmere Gate

The other world.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

It’s a mystery why guidebooks have been indifferent to the (deadly) charms of one of the oldest British cemeteries in Delhi. Guarded by a cross-shaped gateway, Nicholson Cemetery has a sloping, grassy landscape dotted with intricately carved light-brown graves. Neem, khajoor and tamarind trees stand like sentinels. Thick bougainvillea bushes weighed down with flowers shed pink petals on the tombstones. Hundreds of “dearly loved” children and “beloved” wives lie beneath.

On the stones, personal details about the dead are preceded by sentimental poems or Biblical verses. Stone angels look over the shoulder as one reads these graven inscriptions. Some tombs show curious symbols indicating the deceased’s profession. Some are covered with dry leaves, which one must sweep clean to read the inscriptions. Most graves date from the 1857 `mutiny’.

Cemetery’s most prominent grave is of Brigadier General John Nicholson, “the lion of Punjab”. An Irish army officer in the British East India Company, Nicolson died of wounds received during the uprising. His tomb lies near the cemetery’s entrance, barricaded by an iron grill invaded by jasmine vines.

On the far side, towards the Ring Road, marigolds adorn the new graves of Indian Christians. Elsewhere a tomb’s inscription reads: “Jesus said, ‘Weep not’”.

Where Near Kashmere Gate Bus Terminus Nearest Metro Stop Kashmere Gate

A slab and a few leaves

Searching for someone?

Crowded

Can you see the ghost?

Is past dead?

My day job

Mr Nicholson

The club of the Dead

A tomb inside the entrance gateway

The gateway to the Other World

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Mission Delhi – Syed Haider Raza, Hauz Khas Enclave

One of the one per cent in 13 million.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

On February 22nd, 2009, a few hours before his 88th birthday celebration, to be held in The Lalit hotel, Syed Haider Raza is struggling alone in a basement room in Hauz Khas Enclave. Despite painting for 60 years, he is unsure of how his new creation will appear on completion. Staring hard at the mostly blank canvas, he says, “I’m trying to give a feel of Rajasthan.”

Born in central India and living in France since 1950, Mr Raza is visiting Delhi to attend a special show in which private collectors will mark his birth anniversary by exhibiting his paintings, which are in high demand internationally. In 2008, La Terre fetched £1.3 million at Christie's London.

But fame and fortune is not helping. “My sight has grown weaker; so has my memory,” Mr Raza says. “Standing up is difficult. I’m afraid I’ll fall down, not sure of my legs holding my body.” Picking the red colour from his palette, he says, “Once I start walking, I gain confidence. It’s the first movement that’s difficult.”

Mr Raza who intends to permanently move to Delhi last came to the Capital in January, 2009, to inaugurate an exhibition of his works in Dhoomimal Gallery, Connaught Place. He walked from one painting to the next before informing the organisers that most were fakes. “I was sorry, hurt and angry,” he says. “Instead of finding their own way, some artists made fakes and scribbled my name on their works. It’s like stealing somebody’s cheque-book and signing it off”. The organisers immediately canceled the exhibition.

Mr Raza had his first solo show in 1946 in Bombay. He later moved to France, a land that shaped him as an artist. “You have galleries with centuries of art on display. You have Cezanne, Van Gogh. You have the impressionists. You have museums that show Indian art. The country has a wonderful climate for a young artist to work and evolve,” he says. “Whereas in the India of 30s and 40s, artists like me were hobbling in the dark.”

Those were the decades when contemporary Indian art was guided by English sensibilities, which focused on realism and emphasised at a world as seen through the eyes. “But the retina-view was never the Indian way,” says Mr Raza. “We see through the third eye.” Pointing to his canvas, he says, “I want to show a Rajasthan the essence of which is seen as much by the eyes as it is by the mind and heart.”

For 20 years, Mr Raza has been annual trips to India. He rarely puts up in a hotel. Friends in Delhi, Bombay and Chennai offer him a space to work. To find ideas, he travels to places such as Jaipur and Travancore, and he always finds time for art galleries. He does not envisage an understanding of contemporary Indian painting without studying the works of Amrita Shergil, Jamini Roy, Rabindranath Tagore, Francis Newton Souza, MF Husain and Tyab Mehta. “People should not be influenced by mediocrity.”

That’s tough in a world that takes more notice of painters whose worth is measured by what their works fetch in auction markets. “You should not be taken in by prices,” says the man whose painting Tapovan was sold for $1.5 million at Sotheby's New York in 2006. “I do not underestimate economics,” says Mr Raza. “The prices that my paintings command help me in having a decent living.”

In Paris, Mr Raza lives in an old convent that was home to nuns in the 17th century. It has 30 apartments and he owns two. One he gifted to his artist wife, Janine Mongillat. She was the reason why he stayed back in France. “Being the only daughter, Janine’s mother was unwilling for her to move to India.” The wife painted in her studio, Mr Raza in his. They would meet for lunch. “Once the day ended, she would return to my apartment.”

In 2002, Jannine died of breast cancer. “It has been a very sad life since,” says Mr Raza. The couple had no children “I told myself that the Lord called her and has let me live. And as long as I live, I must be happy. So I started taking care of my health and kept working regularly.”

In his apartment, Mr Raza has a maid for housework and an assistant helps him with medical appointments. But no one touches his canvas. “My health is not good,” he says. “But an artist never stops.”

[This is the 13th portrait of the Mission Delhi project]

Getting up is tough

Working on Rajasthan

Alone now

Ready for the birthday bash

Turning 88

Here's the cake

The birthday boy

Burgundy or Bordeaux?

Mr Raza's admirer

Mr Raza's admirers

In Mr Raza's honour

The artist never stops

Monday, February 22, 2010

The Independent View - On Mission Delhi

Praise for the project.

[Text by The Independent's Andrew Buncomb; picture by Mayank Austen Soofi]

The UK-based Independent's Asia Correspondent Andrew Buncombe wrote about the Mission Delhi project of The Delhi Walla on the newspaper's website. Go where it was originally published or read here:

So many people in this vast, sprawling, awful, remarkable city. So many crowds, so much pushing. You can never find any space, any quiet. Who are all these people, these housewives, these labourers, these office workers, these shop-owners. Where do they all come from? What's their story?

The official 2001 census figure for the Indian capital and its surrounding suburbs reckons the population stands at close to 14m, though I suspect - and many observers of Delhi agree with me - that the unofficial figure is much larger. What's more it's growing all the time, with people from states such as Bihar and Uttar Pradesh pouring into the city in search of a livelihood, the chance to pursue their slice of the shining Indian dream.

Much of the time - too much of the time, if I am horribly honest - one is too busy rushing around, arguing with officials, trying to fix the A/C, to stop and talk. Individuals become a mass and just morph into a crowd.

One smart writer and photographer who has been trying to address this problem is Mayank Austen Soofi, a talented young man with an obsession for all things literary, who has launched a project to profile one per cent of the city's population. At his must-read blog, The Delhi Walla, he has undertaken to interview and photograph a remarkable 130,000 Delhites to tell the stories behind the blurred bustle of the crowd.

He writes: "You don’t understand a city by its buildings and bazaars, but by its people. That's why you can’t take in the entire Delhi in one lifetime - we have 13 million souls here. The Delhi Walla plans to make portraits of one per cent of this 8-digit figure, that is 130,000 Delhiwallas. Each portrait will have a photograph of the person along with a peek into his life."

Mayank admits he has little chance of completing such a vast task, but that is not the point. He is a believer that everyone has a story to tell, a unique narrative of their lives in this city. The dozen or so portraits he has already completed are compelling. Who cannot smile at the honesty of the man shopping at Khan Market with his penchant for "brands" or be charmed by the bookseller in Connaught Place and his enthusiastic daily dusting of his wares.

I had a cup of tea with Mayank in a cafe in Khan Market where he enthusiastically outlined his vision for the project. "It's all about how these people interact with Delhi," he said. I think his portraits are good enough to warrant an exhibition of their own.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Photo Essay - Sense of the Place

In love with clichés.

[Text and pictures by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Paharganj = Foreign tourists. Kinari Bazaar = Narrow streets. Khan Market = Rich-looking people. Turkman Gate = Ghetto Muslims. Select Citywalk = Mall rats. Gali Qasim Jaan = Ghalib's haveli. Connaught Place = White pillars. Punjabi Bagh = Punjabi families. GB Road = Sex workers. Gali Parathe Walli = Steamy parathas. Basant Lok = Barcoded consumers. Lodhi Road = Leafy trees.

Trying to get a sense of the place often translates to seeing it through the prism of its popular clichés. It is an easy exercise, but the result is shallow in wisdom and only partially true. Take a look.

Connaught Place