The all-girl band from the Valley may have quit amid plenty of debate but it has not stopped the hundreds of others who have made a place for themselves as singers and rappers. Khursheed Wani brings you a report of how music was and will continue to be an integral part of the Valley
It was a misty December afternoon. The streets in Srinagar were not too busy with people preferring to stay indoors to avoid the spine-chilling cold. For most people, the favourite pastime in such a weather is to watch television or read a book, holding the kangri in their traditionalpherans.
But, in a high-security area, closer to some posh localities of the summer capital of the embattled Jammu and Kashmir, there was an unusual rush of youngsters, all filled with vigour and energy. Wearing stylish outfits, many youngsters with spiky hair and pierced ears came in their trendy cars to fill an auditorium.
This was the final day of the musical competition titled Battle of the Bands, co-sponsored by the Central Reserve Police Force and a plethora of local trading groups. On the previous day, around two dozen amateur bands had performed, six of them making it to the final round.
The audience in the jampacked auditorium was on its feet when three young girls appeared on the carpeted stage. Pragaash, the announcer said was the name of the band signifying the first light of morning. They were schoolgoing girls clad in jeans, sports shoes and sleek sweaters. One of them attracted eyeballs before striking a note on her guitar or speaking a line. She was covering her hair with a blue hijab unlike the other two who allowed the boycut hair to jerk on the tunes of the bass guitar and drums accompanying them on the stage.
The girls first attempted to sing Bulle Shah’s spiritual verses but someone in the crowd objected. They were not delivering the lines accurately and with proper pronunciation. So they switched over to a more popular number Aazma Luck and the auditorium rocked. A thunderous applause followed. They received another round of ovation when the organizers declared them second runners-up.
The performance was path-breaking. It was the first-ever public show by an all-girl rock band in conservative Kashmir where the Western genre of music was confined to a half-an-hour weekly broadcast on the local radio for decades. In the past, most people would prefer to save transistor batteries rather than listening to foreign music. But now, not only the youngsters listen to hip-hop music but a number of them have actually started singing in the style. Over the past half decade, the guitar-wielding boys have been becoming conspicuous. And, when the girls held their guitar, bass and the drum — it was bound to turn heads.
The girl with the headgear — Noma Nazir Bhat — and her two friends Aneeqa Khalid and Farah Deeba were on top of the world after their maiden public performance. The tech-savvy girls, who come from well-to-do families, immediately opened a Facebook page to highlight their achievements. Some newspapers published stories on their passion for music and the support and encouragement from their families. Band Inn, the music school where the girls learnt their first notes and became a group, also began to take pride. The 15-year-olds, meanwhile, graduated to the Class X.
Villain Who?
The girls, however, could not bask in glory for too long. Kashmir is a politically and religiously sensitive place where any issue has potential to be blown out of proportion. Vested interests always wait to cash in on situations.
No sooner did the girls became famous through their music than their act started to beget reactions, both positive and negative. Some reactionaries called them anti-Islamic and even commented on their character. The girls thought the battle would remain confined to social networking sites. So, they put up a brave face and decided to hold forth. Little did they know that all hell would break loose soon and they would be forced to call it quits.
The girls will never forget the beginning of February 2013 throughout their life. This was when they became the subject of debate on TV, in newspapers and political, social and religious circles. Their faces on TV brought them a sense of insecurity. They were forced to go underground and when one of them finally chose to speak up, it was only to announce that the band had quit music. They will no longer hold a guitar, a passion they had nursed for five months. Pragaash was no more.
So, who is the real villain in this unseemly controversy over a non-issue? Is it the “grand mufti” of Kashmir Bashiruddin Ahmad, who declared singing unIslamic and advised the girls to dissolve the band. Or, is it the long thread of Facebook reactions against their guts to “breach the line” of Muslim modesty. Or, is it Chief Minister Omar Abdullah declaring the vitriolic commenter as a “bunch of morons” and asked the police to speed up the chase to track them down? Or, last but not least, is it an overzealous media that made an issue out of it and began to paint the Kashmiri society as a radicalised entity where women have no right to freedom of expression?
Whosoever the villain may be, fact is that the girls have quit, under duress. A day after music maestro Vishal Dadlani advised them not to be cowed down by “some random lunatics” and offered them travel, accommodation and other expenses to record their music albums in Mumbai, the girls in Srinagar were not even ready to consider the offer.
One of them, Aneeqa, was telling journalists that they quit because “the mufti sahib says it is unIslamic and because our people are not happy with us.” She will now pursue engineering in Bangalore and perhaps won’t touch the guitar gifted to her by brother.
The girls’ parents refused police security but immediately went into hiding. Have you received any threats to leave the Valley? “Nobody has threatened us. Just a few adverse comments on Facebook,” she said. “How can they ask us to quit the Valley? This is my place. I won’t,” she said boldly.
The music fraternity is taken by surprise about the media image of the Valley. “The media has painted the Kashmiri society as intolerant, which it is not the case. The singing by women, both on stage and in studios, has been going on for ages. There was no fatwa or threat to life against any women singers”, noted singer Waheed Jeelani, who sung the famous duet with Terra Naomi of ‘say it’s possible’, asserts.
Jeelani quit a Government job to pursue music and says that more than a 1,000 youngsters from the Valley are eking out a livelihood through music. “It is a big industry in the Valley. We have hundreds of singers, both male and female, including the legendry Raj Begum, Zoon Begum, Jahan Ara Janbaz, Shameem Dev Azad, Deepali Watal and Kailash Mehra. They have never been threatened. Music has social acceptability here,” he insists.
However, he agrees that the reaction to the girl band was sharp because it is a new genre and a deviation from traditional sufiana music. “But there was no life threat. Musicians get mixed reactions and that is part of the game,” he says.
Passion Profession
Jeelani’s assertion is not misplaced. The hip-hop culture is new to the Valley and interestingly, it began developing in youngsters who primarily sought to give vent to their feelings of living a life in the conflict zone. Dozens of rappers and bands emerged, primarily in Srinagar, to mix their protests with instruments to lament the oppression, stifling of voices and rule of the gun.
MC Kash, aka Roshan Elahi, became a big name who chose his guitar to declare, “I protest”. During the anti-Army, anti-police mass protests of 2010, Roshan recorded his anger:
I protest against the things you’ve done
I protest for a mother who lost her son
I protest, I will throw stones and never run
I protest until my freedom comes
In his lyrics, he recalled the names of all youngsters who fell to bullets. Kash’s studios were raided and he went into hiding but continued to register his protests.
There are dozens like Kash who have been protesting against political and social issues. They go by their stage names — Haze Kay, AJ Young, Renegade, Kingg UTB, Emm Bee, Illsane and SXR to name a few. Rizwan Qazi, is ‘Illsane’ says the situation in the Valley makes him restless and he gives vent to his feelings through music.
Shayan Nabi is a stylish youngster who says he is upset over the plight of his motherland. He protests against the Kunanposhpora gangrape victims in Ocean of Tears and agitates against the growing use of drugs among the youngsters. “I have my studio and distribute my music through Youtube”, Nabi says. He stole the show at Kashmir University’s annual musical fest Sounzal when he connected the Valley’s past with present:
I’m from a place they used to call paradise
where outsiders used to come for a word of advice
which was known as the garden of saints
but has been turned into the place of slaves
These ‘protesting’ artists have been successful in many ways. Sayim Bhat is a known name whose rap featured in the film Murder-2 and several other Bollywood flicks.
The Irfan-Bilal duo who pursued their childhood dream of becoming singers are masters now. They are teaching youngsters in a music school called Mizraab and are experts in fusing Kashmirisufi music with Western pop. In the past five years, they have trained a 100 boys and girls.
“Music is becoming a passion and profession. Our youngsters are fully backed by their families”, Irfan says. The music class was going on routinely even as the controversy over the girls’ band was raging. “We have not stopped our classes. There is no fear.” he insists.
Rap Roots
Shayan Nabi says that rap is popular among youngsters because there are parallels between rap and traditional Kashmiri music called Ladi Shah. Ladi Shah is a highly lyrical form of story-telling performed with some instrumental accompaniment. It is based on oral tradition, and is often a political and social satire. “The new generation is doing Ladi Shah in English and using Western instruments”, he says.
But, the rappers are not just protestors. There are rock bands who prefer to stay away from issues and show up at official functions.
Post the 2010 protests, the Central Reserve Police Force played a vital role in involving youngsters in several “constructive activities” including music, sports tournaments and environmental activism. This helped multiply the number of rappers and musical bands in Srinagar. While the music was bringing about a silent change in youth mindset, the controversy over the all-eve rock band has truncated its pace, at least for the time being. The guitarists choose to lie low and hesitate to speak up lest they are caught in the crossfire.
While a section of the media and politicians have begun gunning for the grand mufti’s head, the police has begun tracking down the online abusers of the rock band. On February 7, three youngsters were rounded up after the cops sifted through 900 messages posted on Pragaash’s Facebook page. The curtains may fall on the controversy by slapping of the Public Safety Act on some youngsters but the show will go on in the Valley.
“A lack of adequate understanding of the emotional and cultural ethos of the Valley is the root cause of this problem. An aversion to radicalism is built into this ethos. Tinkering with its logical course will invariably boomerang,” cautions veteran commentator Muhammad Sayeed Malik.
(The author is Senior Correspondent with The Pioneer (c))
