'Sur's Ocean': The many afterlives of poetic verse

Embedded in the countless compositions of Hindustani classical vocal music are extracts from the works of great poets of Brajbhasha and Awadhi literature, as well as poetry in other Indian languages. Students usually inherit these from their gurus or from recordings of great masters and composers of earlier times.

However, sources of lyrics are not often explicitly cited by teachers, because of which students may never realise that they are, in fact, singing fragments from a Surdas pada crafted into a khayal bandish (composition) or a dadra that borrows lines from one of Kabirdas’ poems. Nevertheless, enough examples exist to establish that incorporating such poetry is a well-established convention with wide acceptance among composers.

As one of many students of music who attempt composition in addition to performance, I have, for decades, explored the literary treasures that Indian literature has to offer. While reading through a pada, doha, barvai, chhappay, kavitta and other poetic forms, I have often felt an irresistible urge to sing the words I have encountered. This translation of the written or printed word into song has been an abiding obsession for me, illuminating my musical journey and filling it with joy and a sense of adventure. In recent times, I was given the opportunity to present some of the texts included in the 10th anniversary anthology published by the Murty Classical Library of India.

From the volume titled Sur’s Ocean (Sur Sagar, translated by John Stratton Hawley), I was particularly struck by a pada written in praise of Radha’s countenance: Radha tero badan ati neeko. It set in motion the process of converting the poem into song. I remain firmly anchored in Hindustani raagdari music when I undertake such work, and within a short span, I find the raag and taal in which I would like to present the poem. These choices are personal and depend on several variables, including my familiarity and fluency with particular raags and taals. Does this imply that the same pada could be sung in a different raag and taal? Indeed, that is almost always the case, even when some anthologies prescribe specific raags for a pada.

Tempo, or pace, forms an important aspect of composition. While several genres use a BPM (beats per minute) measure, Hindustani music approaches tempo in relative terms, referred to as laya. Guided by lines describing Radha’s stride as that of a grand elephant, I felt the melody must move with a majestic sway rather than in frantic excitement. It needed to be worthy of the magnificence of the goddess’s gait. I therefore chose a laya bordering on vilambit, or slow. However, this is not fixed; a rendition on one day may be marginally slower or faster on another.

I chose Raag Shyam Kalyan as the base for the melodic movement. This is a raag I have learnt from more than one guru under whom I trained, each of whom taught me several compositions in it. My familiarity with the raag provides a sense of comfort that I often rely on. The prescribed time for this raag is between six in the evening and nine at night. Although nothing prevented me from composing the pada in a raag meant for another time of day, I chose Shyam Kalyan because of a reference to nishaapati, or the moon, which pales in comparison to Radha’s beauty.

Structurally, compositions of khayal and thumri are divided into two segments. The first, the sthayi, functions like a refrain and forms the foundation of the bandish. The second, the antara, explores other areas of the raag, often moving towards its higher register. Using phrases that give Shyam Kalyan its identity, I structured the sthayi to begin from the middle swaras while extending the melody across a single octave. The antara reaches into the higher swaras and then descends in a zigzag manner to resolve into the sthayi. Radha’s arched brow is likened to a taut bow ready to release an arrow or glance, and I attempted to reflect this through a short taan that rises to the upper tonic.

While I may attempt to describe the process of composition, it is only through the sonic experience that listeners can assess whether the translation of the pada from text to song has been successful. 

The Heritage Shelf is a monthly column from the Murty Classical Library of India, published by Harvard University Press, presenting India’s greatest literary works and the enduring traditions that shaped them. The author is a renowned classical musician.