The Bhimsen Of Indian Classical Music: A Tribute

The Indian folklore has it that when Mian Tansen, one of the nine jewels in the court of Mughal Emperor Akbar, stirred the notes of Raag Malhar, it rained.
When asked, Pt. Bhimsen Joshi agreed that savants in those times possessed so much power in their voice to force the clouds to rain. "today it is impossible. The singers today sing in the monsoon and later say it was Malhar," he said.
However, sarod maestro Ustad Amjad Ali Khan had a different take. "I agree that the divinity, which was a part of our music in olden times, is fading. But I'm sure that when Pt. Bhimsen Joshi would sing the Malhar, it would rain."
This was Mr. Khan's way of conferring on Pt. Bhimsen Joshi, a compliment befitting the Tansen of our times. No wonder Mian ki todi, a composition believed to be created by Tansen, was a favourite of Pt. Bhimsen Joshi. Sadly the dark clouds will come but there will no more be a "Bhimseni Alaap" to lure them. 
Pt. Bhimsen Joshi took his final bow on the stage of this world on Jan 24, 2011,  leaving behind a legacy too large for the shoulders of any vocalist of our times to carry.
It was the year 2005. I managed to escape the drudgery of work to attend one of his  concerts being held in a school ground. On my way in, I saw a hand written poster pasted on the wall which in Marathi read "Bhimsen Joshi, Shastriya Sangeet Cha Bhagwan." (Bhimsen Joshi, the God of classical music).
Inside, every inch of the ground was occupied. The air was still and on the stage was that very God. 
Wearing a white cotton kurta, frail and half wrapped in a shawl looking above the heads of the people. 
He closed his eyes for a moment and in his deep sonorous voice stirred the Shadaj, the first note of the Sargam. The voice instantly pulled at our heart. 
In the next two hours, the frail looking old gent started growing bigger. So big that he evolved into a persona large and magnificent as his own name - BHIMSEN.  While we, the audience kept shrinking as his powerful notes circled around and held us in a firm clasp - spellbound. His composition "Kshetra Vitthal, Teerth Vitthal" is still fresh memory of that  evening.   


 I saw the news of his death on a television screens while I was rushing into my office building early yesterday.  Even before I could remember him for a few minutes, I realized, the day had already decided its course. I gave in.


At 10:30 pm, as I switched on the television at home to end the tiring day, there he was, doing what he does the best - catching music from thin air and weaving them into a raag. 
Our long forgotten Doordarshan, was showing a documentary on Panditji, made by none other than Gulzar for the Films Division many many years ago.  
It was a pleasure to  relive him. The down to earth ordinary Puneri who was extraordinary in his simplicity. 
"There are many more singers today than in the past," he said. 
"They are also more intelligent. But their song doesn't touch the heart" 
Unlike yours, which has touched a million. How do we ever forget you Panditji?