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The Flower of Rohi - Pathanay Khan
Pathanay Khan, a renowned Punjabi classical singer, was born in 1926 in Kot Addu, Multan and died on March 9, 2000. It was some five hundred years ago that a noble soul from the heartland of Punjab ventured forth a rare journey tracing the width and breadth of the continent. It was a trajectory, which would at last shepherd his searching soul to reap the Truth that hummed within him, expounding him to the status of Baba Guru Nanak (1469-1539). Accompanied by Mardaana, a life-long Muslim companion and composer of his verses, the roving saint wove entrancing symphonies fostering the principles of the eternal good and eternal Truth. As a repository of this tradition, Pathanay Khan, a whirlwind-footed dervish with his beloved friend Yaseen traversed the vastness of deserts, the solitude of wilderness and profusion of urban jungles alike, airing the same message, pulling crowds and establishing a tradition so uniquely his own, that it has probably ended with his own end. But the similarity does not end here. Pathanay Khan, born in 1926, was a follower of the same school of music making, the ‘Rubaabi gharana’ often known as ‘zikr ka gharana’ which was laid down by Mardaana, the Rubaab player. Fewer in the sub-continent would have immersed their entire lives in singing sufi verse so completely, and with such artistic intensity as the late Pathanay Khan who emerged from his virtual anonymity in the 70s to becoming a stylist, an originator and a national asset. Introduced to TV and Radio during the Zulfikar Bhutto period, Pathanay Khan’s singing found its seeds in the human heart, taking from the countless leaves that are words. He created compositions to sing the kalaam of Shah Hussain, Bulleh Shah, Waris Shah, Khwaja Ghulam Farid and Shah Murad, with a haunting potency, unequalled in any of his rivals. While he vastly parlayed with devotional melodies with structures describable as ‘dhun ragas’ including Pahari, Kafi, Des, Yamun and Mand - he also made truly innovative use of seasonal melodies like Malhar and Hindol to sing ecstatically the most uninhibited love of the Divine. Listening to Pathanay Khan’s music is a spiritual and aesthetic experience. His performances were a living manifestation of Dante’s seminal words: “He who would paint a figure, if he cannot be it, cannot paint it.” His resonating voice, the prodigious complexity of his compositions fills the air with mystic worldview of Unity in diversity - the acceptance of the Sacred in the other. What distinguishes him from other sufi-singers was his volcanic creativity, his infinite imagination and its amazing simplicity; his ability to be at once sublimely detached and passionately involved with his surroundings at the time of his performance. In one of his representative songs 'Mera ishq wi toon, (you are my only love) with his characteristic stretching of individual words, mid-line breaks, he slowly reveals the identity of his beloved in a rousing wail. The name may never appear in its pure form, perhaps always shrouded in attributes and similes like ‘Zahir,’ ‘Batin,’ ‘Ultimate Beauty,’ - until finally he breaks out in a jubilant rhapsody, repeating the name of his beloved in a kind of magic incantation, enough to produce a music which without exerting force, can move heaven and earth. It wakes the feelings of the unseen with its constant ability to reawaken the listener to an awareness of supra-real dimensions. Often insensitively described as a ‘folk singer,’ Pathanay Khan’s legacy agitates an important debate. Why is it that all classical Punjabi-Saraiki literature is ever so frequently dubbed as ‘folk.’ Punjabi-Saraiki, a language rich in intellectual discourse, the nurturer of a religion and spoken in a vast terrain ought to find such reductionism odious. That it is a rural, sub-urban, rustic and hence a less refined language is a gross misunderstanding that ought to be corrected. Once this point is established, then one could advance to locate the true position of an artist of such phenomenal creative gift as Pathanay Khan’s. Indeed, with his thorough knowledge of the Shastriya Sangeet and his close association with the Rubaabi gharana which produced such musical talents as ‘Master’ Ghulam Haider (who introduced Noor Jehan and Lata Mangeshkar to Urdu play-back singing and remained an eminent influence on Pathanay Khan’s singing), Baba GA Chishti, Rashid Attre, ‘Master’ Inayat Hussain, Firoz Nizami, ‘Master’ Abdullah and many others - Pathanay Khan’s position as a classical virtuoso could hardly be denied. That he never had to sing ‘Urdu ghazal’ in order to make a back door entry into what is arrogantly assumed as the mainstream is a further proof of his faith in his art. The great 17th century Japanese poet Basho, explained to a disciple that poetry required the poet to abandon his self and become one with nature: “Learn about the pine from the pine, learn about the bamboo from the bamboo…A verse will come when its essence moves you”. For Pathanay Khan this was the only method for his performance. His eyes tightly shut, face drawn away from the audience his lips quavering, his fingers fluttering in the air and his mane of hair flowing - his total consumption in the essence and sonority of what he delivered, seemed majestically tangible. Perhaps someday we will be able to understand more about Pathanay Khan’s spiritual singing and its breathtaking sweep, as a man of acute aesthetic genius.