Kabir Lives On...

In the Pakistani Ustad’s Voice

“Padharo mharo des re

E piyaji, haye padharo mhare des re”
“Come to my country
Oh my beloved! Come to my country!
Oh, my golden one, O King of my heart, please come ”
It was nearly a decade ago. The renowned Qawwali singer Ustad Fareed Ayaz singing before music-
lovers at a concert in Bangalore under the auspices of the Kabir Project pauses for a moment.
“It is a peculiar situation. We left Hindustan for Pakistan during partition. So those in Pakistan now call
us ‘Delhi fellows’ and those in Delhi call us ‘Pakistani fellows’! But today, we sit squarely in our own
land…in that undivided country…and say”,
He continues with a smile…
“Oh my beloved! Please come to my country!”
The Ustad questions as he sings…
“To which country am I calling you? To which land?”
He continues to sing…
“Delhi des suhavanu so jaha base diladar”
“Oh the land of Delhi is utterly beautiful
There resides my beloved”
Now his brother Abu Muhammad joins in desperately calling out from the bottom of his heart,
“Delhi! Delhi!!”
And then the brothers and their
team sing “Delhi des suhavanu so
jaha base diladar”
The Ustad continues…
“All boundaries of this land have
been erased, they shall be erased
further!”
And how? The Ustad sings again…
“Says Khusro…
I am you, you are me
I am the body, you are my life
Tomorrow let not one feel
I am the other, and you another
So come then, Oh my beloved, Come to my country!”
Yes, wherever he is, the lover sets foot into this country from where the throbbing voice beckons!
True. As Ustad Fareed Ayaz tunes himself to sing Qawwali with his team, all artificial barriers of
nationality, language and boundary cease to exist. All visible and invisible fences disappear. What one
perceives then is simply the voice of humanity emanating from pure musical notes. The singers are not
just Fareed Ayaz, Abu Muhammad and his brothers as a team. Instead, a whole tradition as old as 700
years finds its voice here and now, engaged in an interface with the present, along its unbroken
journey from the past. The strong vocal tradition has operated as a dynamic link in the ancestral family
of Ustad Fareed Ayaz nurturing and consistently enriching this particular stream of music called the
‘Qawwal Bachchon Ka Gharana’ of Delhi.
To know more about this family, one needs to journey back into the times of Amir Khusro, the
thirteenth century poet and scholar. The Sufi musician regarded as the Father of Qawwali, a
devotional music form of the Sufis, is also credited with bringing the ghazal form into India and
contributing significantly to the evolution of the ghazal. Khusro’s father was of Turkish origin and his
mother, a Rajput. The loss of her husband lead Khusro’s mother to return to her parental home in
Delhi with her seven year old son and three other children. Nurtured by his grandfather, the little
Khusro began to compose poetry at the age of eight. He was sheltered by both religions and Khusro
soon grew to the position of the court poet at the Delhi Sultan’s durbar. Later Khusro became the
ardent disciple of the revered Sufi saint Nizamuddin Auliya of Delhi.
Among the prime disciples of Khusro, Ustad Taanras Khan Sahib, a court musician in the kingdom of
the last Mughal emperor is a well-known name. It was during 1857 that Taanras Khan migrated to the
Princely State of Hyderabad and settled in the Nizam’s court. Ustad Munshi Raziuddin Ahmed Khan,
who belonged to the lineage of Taanras Khan was also a musician in the Nizam’s court. In 1956, when
the Princely state of Hyderabad merged with the Indian nation, Raziuddin Khan moved to Karachi in
Pakistan. The world-renowned Ustad Ghulam Fariduddin Ayaz Al-Hussaini Qawwal, better known as
Ustad Fareed Ayaz, is his eldest son. Born in Hyderabad, the Ustad was four years old when he moved
to Karachi. Fareed and his brothers have been creatively engaged in the world of music over the last
four decades and Qawwali has been their forte.
“My father has deeply ingrained my being with the essence of our music and tradition and also the
thoughts and ideas of Sufi saints and Kabir”, reflects Fareed. But that does not mean that Fareed relies
entirely on the strength of his lineage alone. “Those who lack self-confidence rely excessively on their
gharana. Gharana does not mean a single individual or a famous Guru, it is a school of thought. There
is no need to take unnecessary pride in one’s gharana. I believe in my music“, says Fareed. Clearly his
conviction is based on the strength of the uncompromising riyaz of his childhood days under the
vigilant eyes of his father.
Fareed has innumerable awards to his credit. But the love of his listeners outweighs them all. When
the Pakistani government honoured him with the Pride of Performance Award, he boldly stressed at
the Award ceremony that his listeners honour and reward him at every concert and that the Award
from the Government was in effect, only a piece of gold.

Kabir is my own!
Ustad Fareed has embraced Kabir all his life. His approach to the understanding of Kabir is an unusual
one. “In how many colours have you seen Kabir? I’m sure you have witnessed only one face of Kabir”,
so saying he thrusts a paan into his mouth. “I have studied Kabir in great depth. Not only that, I have
seen him, I have met him. I know all the secrets as to where he resides and how he lives. I know all of
those hidden truths.”
Listening to the Ustad’s racing words as he swallows the red betel juice from his paan is quite a
bewildering experience. How could this gentleman from the 21st century encounter the 15th century
Kabir? How could this ever happen? What craziness? As one ponders, the Ustad treats himself to one
more paan.
“Look, Kabir is mine. I have not shared him with anybody so far”, says Fareed, hands crossed over his
chest in an act of embrace. Now it probably feels like the height of craziness. “Kabir is the essence of
my knowledge, Kabir is my strength. I am not prepared for any kind of bargain or compromise with
anyone, when it comes to Kabir. I can tolerate anything else but not the slightest deviation in the
matter of Kabir”
For that matter, he does not hold him on a pedestal as a superhuman being.
“Clear your mind first of all. Look at Kabir as a human being. Only then can you approach him. Like you
and me, Kabir would eat and sleep and he would use the toilet too!” Fareed continues to swallow the
betel juice. “Yes, he knew what it is to be hungry. He would laugh and he would cry. Only when we
perceive him as a human being can we get close to him”. As one wonders how all this can happen, as if
he has read the listener’s mind, Fareed continues, as he indulges in one more paan. “We are looking
for Kabir in the tangle of words and language but he does not wear the cloak of language. Kabir is a
concept. The knowledge of Kabir cannot be pursued in any university and certainly not among
scholars. You need a Kabir visa to go near Kabir! That can never be issued by the Pakistani or Indian
consulate!”, he quips.
Oh yes! It is only Fareed’s Kabir who is capable of breaking and transcending the barriers of border,
visa and other restrictions put up by the world of politics. Guru Nanak, Khwaja Ghulam Farid, Syed
Sultan Shah, Bulleh Shah, Rumi, Saadi and Kabir are all branches of the same tree. But Fareed is of the
firm conviction that Kabir is a notch above all the others.

Kabir as a form of knowledge

How did the Kabir concept take birth and grow into a mighty presence within Fareed Ayaz? The
question led me to look for ways of contacting Ustad Fareed. During my search here and there, I found
his telephone number. But my attempt to contact him went in vain. I gathered that he could be
reached on the same number through WhatsApp. With considerable difficulty, I managed to compose
a message in Hindi and send across. I was thrilled when the brown ticks of my message turned blue!
The Ustad’s casual but prompt response from the other end excited me to no end. Overcoming my
initial hesitation in communicating with a renowned musician, I managed to make the WhatsApp call.
All boundaries were crossed and all shackles were broken in no time. It felt as if I were speaking to an
elder brother next door, and not to someone at Karachi, so far off. In a moment, the 1700 kilometre
distance between Bangalore and Karachi had vanished. Oh thank God, sound waves are not bound by
visa regulations!
I soon realised that I had spoken, not to Ustad Fareed but to his younger brother Abu Muhammad.
His was a deep voice. He spoke in a sincere tone full of genuine warmth. As per his suggestion, I sent
my questions across to him in writing and waited for his reply in all eagerness. When I called him for a
second time, he spoke at length. He made enquiries about my age and my name and wanted to know
how I would like to be addressed. It felt so much like the innocent enquiries that we encounter in our
own rural milieu. I answered his queries and suggested that he could address me as his choti bahan or
younger sister.
I was eager to know how Kabir came to influence them in such a profound manner. Even before I
could complete my sentence, came the humble reply, “That’s an asset we have inherited from our
father”. True, Ustad Munshi Raziuddin Khan had studied Kabir with great passion.
“My father had done an in-depth study of several Persian poets and Sufi saints like Bulleh Shah, Saadi,
Rumi, Amir Khusro, Nizamuddin Aulia and Hafiz. He would place the ideas and reflections of Kabir in
the background of their vision and explain to us how Kabir was superior to the others and how his
premise was more genuine. Kabir shared what he saw. He spoke the truth. He lived the truth. He
never bothered whether people called him right or wrong”, Abu Muhammad explained how their
thoughts on Kabir were shaped under their father’s mentoring.
My consistent effort for the next three to four days resulted in a conversation with Ustad Fareed Ayaz.
Once he set into a conversation with the customary Adaab and Namaste and “Where are you
speaking from?” in what seemed to me like a honey-sweet voice, I was so excited that I could not find
words. Addressing me as Suma betia, he continued the conversation like an affectionate father-figure
seated next to me. At one stroke, his endearing voice transported me into the land untouched by our
prejudiced ideas of Pakistan, into the land of Karachi’s Kabir.
The donkey-cart driver’s Kabir
While Kabir, born in our great country is not easily visible anywhere here, how did he make an
appearance before this man in the Karachi belt of Pakistan, I wondered. Fareed slowly slipped into his
childhood, chewing his favourite paan.
“I learnt about Kabir through Shamsher Bhai, the donkey-cart driver around here. We would address
him as Shamsu Bhai. He lived in the little bylane near my house. It exists even now. His son Ibrahim
was my friend. I used to call him Ibbu. Shamsu Bhai was a treasure house of Kabir Bhajans. He would
also sing thousands of Shers. He would sing every line of Kabir differently. In the dark nights of winter,
he would light a fire before his house, next to his cart and sing Kabir compositions, warming up his
body and soul. There would be seven to eight people around him always. When he drowned himself in
his song sipping tea and smoking from a hookah, oh…that was such a sublime experience really! A
vibrant atmosphere, Kabir maahol would be created right away bringing him to life then and there. I
would feel elevated from the ground by ten to twelve feet. Today I realise, what I then felt was not an
illusion, it was real! Kabir sits beside me, stands next to me and sleeps with me. He sings along with
me. Kabir is the force that directs every act of mine.” ‘Ya Allah, ya Allah…’, so saying he laughed in joy.
Fareed’s words, ‘I can claim that there is none on this earth who has understood Kabir as well as I do’,
stood out in a new light now. I now realised that his words were not born out of vain pride but a true
knowledge of Kabir.
“This evening I was engaged in wuzu/वुज़ू, the ritual purification as per the customary Islamic practice.
As soon as I came out of the bathroom, I heard Kabir’s voice. I noted down that sher. Let me share its
meaning. Your practice of wuzu is worthless. If your understanding of Allah does not get deeper and
more meaningful, there is no point in doing your wuzu, Kabir said to me. In fact, every day I have one
or the other exchange with Kabir”. As he was conversing with me on phone, he had moved to the little
lane adjacent to his house.
“I once listened to Shamsu Bhai’s singing. He was sitting in front of the fire gathering warmth, singing
to himself. I must have been about ten or eleven years old then. I was rather innocent. Once I heard
his song, tears began to roll down from my eyes. In the eyes of the world, he is a donkey-cart driver.
But he is the one who opened up the world of Kabir to me. Later, in fact it was my father who enabled
me to drown myself in the ocean of Kabir and his knowledge. Oh! He was so well read!” Pausing for a
moment, he soon resumed his narrative slipping into the memory lane of his father, as though he
were stepping from the bylane into his home.
“My Vaalid Saab (that is how he refers to his father) would advise me as to what is good and what is
bad on this earth and also what to do and what not to do. My relationship with Vaalid Saab was
richer than any friendship and a very intimate one too. The talim that I got under him was a very valua-
ble one. ‘You work hard and grasp one musical note and many notes will automatically become your
own’, he would assure. By the grace of Allah, on account of my father’s talim, people consider me a
great qawwal in the whole world. But I do not consider myself so. The talim that he gave me is my real
asset, I feel”. His voice was charged with humility.
During the conversation, he mentioned the painting that he had done. What is this painting now? Did
our Ustad put aside his harmonium and take up the painting brush? Just as the thought crossed my
mind, he described his painting through words. “The masjid has been razed to the ground on one side.
The walls of the temple have collapsed on the other side. But our Kabir stands upon the ruins with a
staff in hand!”
Oh yes, one needs immense courage to pull down the temple, masjid and every other structure to the
ground. Only Kabir, our Ustad’s Kabir can accomplish this!

Why do we seek Kabir today?

How relevant is Kabir in today’s world where religious fundamentalism has been assuming newer and
uglier forms on either side of the India-Pakistan border? Has Kabir become like soiled currency that
has been pushed out of circulation? As these thoughts troubled my mind, Abu Muhammad’s words
came as a relief. Quoting Kabir’s lines,
“Man maila tan ujara bagula kapati ang;
Tasau tho kauva bhala tan man ek hi ang”
(Instead of living with dirt on one’s mind while sporting a gleaming body, it is better to live like a crow
that is black in and out) he said, “We have all the more need today to be aware of Kabir. Today, in
order to be able to communicate truth and perceive truth, we need to rely on Kabir. How do we live
with no dichotomy between the inside and the outside and between the body and the mind? How do
we live the truth without fear and hesitation? We have to look up to Kabir again since Kabir has
spoken the truth. The concept of Kabir’s truth is way different from what the scriptures and other
saints say. We render Kabir’s songs in every programme. People like to listen to Kabir compositions
again and again. It is enough if it sets a few minds thinking”.
Ustad Fareed added slowly. “Once you understand Kabir, all the violence, strife and pettiness around
begin to feel unwanted and meaningless".

The Pak Coke Studio

If one were to set aside for a minute the various objections against Coca Cola, the Multinational
Company, a noteworthy enterprise by name Coke Studio comes to surface. The company has
encouraged the classical music of countries like Brazil, Pakistan, India, Middle East and African
countries. Bringing together musicians of the old and new generations on the one hand and endowing
pure classical music with a touch of modernity on the other has been the consistent preoccupation in
the domain of Coke Studio.
When Coke Studio initially began its music series involving the musicians of Pakistan, Rohail Hyatt was
the music director. He tried to give a touch of modernity to the rare cheez and bandishes rendered by
the senior legendar musicians of Pakistan, without indulging in unaesthetic exercises in the name of
mindless fusion. He had composed music in such a way as to bring in amalgamation, while also
preserving the pure melody and rhythm of
both the forms.
During the fourth season of the series,
Rohail Hyatt decided to record the
qawwali “Ae kangana de de ri chail mero”
popularised by the two brothers. It was not
easy for him to redo the kangana song set
to raag Malkauns in the pure classical
qawwali mode, by mixing it with Western
music in the background. By keeping his
inner ears open to both the forms of
music, the highly talented Rohail Hyatt
took great pains in repeatedly matching
the background music with the rhythm of Discussion with Rohail Hyatt during Kangana recording
the original, and finally succeeded in recording it after repeated rehearsals.
“We were not prepared for any compromise in the matter of our tradition. Our concern was to
preserve the reputation and identity of our music in total. Enriching the beauty without letting go of
the emotion of bhakti in our music was an important concern for us in the Rohail project. The Kangana
song in the qawwali form is set to a difficult beat. To match its rhythm and sing accordingly is a mighty
challenge. Sometimes even versatile musicians lose their track along the journey. It is set to the
ten-beat jhaptaal, but somewhere in the middle, the song shifts to the sixteen-beat teentaal. But we
have altered the original to render the entire song in jhaptaal”, explained Fareed. While the team
members were hesitant about handling this heavy beat while accompanying the vocal flow of the two
brothers, Rohail inspired them with his encouraging words. Drummer Louis Gumby Pinto was also
anxious but Rohail managed to infuse courage and record the song successfully.
I was curious to know whether collaborating with young musicians in Coke Studio helped in taking
classical qawwali closer to music-lovers. “Our qawwali team was well known not only in Pakistan but in
other countries too, much before we sang for Coke Studio. Through Kangana we were able to connect
more with the younger groups. They too put in a lot of hard work to match our classical qawwali”,
appreciated Abu Muhammad, referring to Rohail and his team.
The Kangana song finally came out with excellent music composition. The new version of de de
kangana song now opens up a fresh world in an imploring, cajoling and soothing tone, enriched by the
background music that enhances these emotions, as if it were waiting for this creative intervention by
Rohail. Rated as one of the songs of Coke Studio with the highest viewership, the song also figures in
Mira Nair’s film ‘The Reluctant Fundamentalist’.
Referring to another of his ventures with Rohail for Coke Studio, the famous song Aaj rang hai, Fareed
described it “as an experiment with qawwali and Khusro. Enriching it with a touch of beauty was our
concern”, elaborated Fareed. The fact is that within Pakistan where fundamentalists who unleash
violence and spread hatred against Hindustan operate ruthlessly, exists another land. That is the land
where ordinary men and women like us live. That is where Hindustani classical music, qawwali, folk
music and other art forms flourish at their best. Prejudiced Hindu fundamentalists on this side of the
border refuse to acknowledge that land. The Pak Coke Studio programmes enable us to catch a
glimpse of that extraordinary world. Further it endorses our belief that the flickering light of humanity
can never be put out.

Riyaz - An Ongoing Penance

The musical prowess of the brothers involv-
ing various musical forms such as dhrupad,
khayal, tarana, thumri and dadra including
their signature genre qawwali is strongly
backed by the tough musical training that
they have received from their father during
childhood years. Fareed was an
extraordinary talent right from his child-
hood days.
A classical base was strongly laid well before
the children were initiated into qawwali
rendition. Around 1975-76 Fareed began to
lead his own qawwali team and won his
father’s heart. When the teenager Abu Young Fareed and Abu singing with their father
Muhammad was forced to join the troupe and assist his brother, the school-going lad was still un-
trained in music. It was during this period that Abu’s rigorous riyaz for 12-15 hours began. He shared
that at the hands of his father who was a task-master, it was not just the rod that was not spared, and
even footwear was not spared.
Now, Fareed is the teacher who initiates all the children in the family to the primary music lessons.
When it comes to learning, he is not easy to please either. “Vaalid Saab believed always in a single
minded pursuit. His approach meant doing one thing at a time and attaining the whole. Pursue one sur,
one musical note, at a time and the entire ocean of notes will be yours, he said. Attainment of true
knowledge through musical notes is the driving life-force, this is how our body and soul get involved in
the journey of music. If the musician engages in his music in a selfless manner, in one sense, the
congregation around him does not matter. The state is one of a bird singing for its own self. If I enjoy
my singing, I can transport my joy to my listeners. Otherwise how can I make my listeners happy? My
music goes in vain, don’t you think so? It is hence that there is no question of skipping my daily riyaz”,
explained the Ustad.
In these trying times when Taliban terrorism, hatred and violence are burning up the lives of the
Pakistani people, several khandaani musicians in Pakistan are nurturing elements of compassion and
love of life through art and music and further preserving them carefully for the generations to come.

Music is Universal
I was curious to know about the other forms of music that impressed the Ustad other than his own
qawwali music. The Ustad’s love of music turned out to be an all-encompassing one.
“I love every kind of music that exists on this earth. I have tried to understand the essence of music.
Music is not just about khyal, thumri, dhrupad and the like. Every form of music on earth is one and the
same. They are like different waves of the same ocean. In its purest form, music constructs a very
positive aura. Music has no language but is constituted by musical notes alone. In fact, I am very fond
of African music. A certain kind of continuity in musical notes is what creates melody. When one
mingles the voice of one’s inner energy with that melody or in other words, when the melody merges

Paan after paan…taan after taan

Fareed sings with his mouth smeared red, chewing paan all the while, as if his paan were an integral
part of his singing. He consumes about fifty to sixty paan a day and he has been doing this over the
last forty years. He explained his longstanding attachment. “I was in the habit of smoking cigarettes
earlier. I used to smoke without Vaalid Saab’s knowledge. I used to smoke so excessively that I was
affected by asthama. Vaalid Saab invariably came to know and he advised me. ‘Look my son, give up
this habit. It is no good. You are someone in the music field. If you have to engage in this, you need
strength. If not, your music goes in vain.’ Then I got into the habit of chewing paan. Now paan-
chewing has become such an inevitable part of my being that even during my sleep, I sometimes
have a strong desire to chew paan. I sometimes trouble my Begum for a paan even when I am in a
half-sleepy state and she promptly obliges, unmindful of her own sleep. My Begum is a very fine
woman”, he appreciates laughing out aloud.
‘Whenever we go to foreign countries, imagine our plight if we do not get good paan! How can our
music get colourful in its absence? So wherever we go, our Karachi paan box is made to board the
flight along with the harmonium box. My brother does not like even the paan that is available in
India. We carry our paandabba to India too’, Abu Muhammad laughed heartily while sharing his
brother’s weakness for it.
with the voice of one’s soul- which may happen either deliberately with conscious effort on the indi-
vidual‘s part or it may just happen on its own – a new emotion is born. Such an emotion awakens your
rooh or life-force. Oh yes, there exist two kinds of rooh. One is rooh -e -sailani, which is the nomadic
mobile life-force. The other is rooh-e -makami, which remains stationery within oneself. Rooh -e-sailani
is like a dream. It keeps moving on its own without being under anyone’s control. If the wavering life-
force were to be trained, it can undergo a transformation to become the rooh -e-makami. Then it
listens to your words, which means you have control over it. Coming to my rooh, it is so much under
my control that it operates as per my wishes completely. Thinking about all this when I am alone, I am
overcome by a sense of wonder. To be frank, nobody can enter my space without my permission. Not
even my Begum…
Listen, years ago, I must have been married for about four or five years then. I used to take lessons
from Vaalid Saab. I would go up and sit on the terrace in contemplation. My wife began to wonder
what kept me up on the terrace and if I were busy watching any interesting damsel in the lane. With
great curiosity she once came up to see what I was up to. I was sitting still and just a little away sat four
huge cats. They were all well-built like Alsatian dogs. Shocked and scared by the sight, she bolted
downstairs”, he described enthusiastically laughing aloud. “Gradually she too began to understand.
There is a boundary around me. Within that boundary is the exclusive space occupied by me, my soul
and my Kabir. My Begum tried to trespass that limit and enter the space of my soul but I kept even her
away”.
“Do you plan to perform in India in the near future”, I enquired.
“I haven’t been coming since the last two years. There is a lot of demand for my concerts in India.
People out there love me a lot. But you know…”

The Shiva-Parvathi story narrated by Vaalid Saab

Chewing paan all the while, Fareed recollected how his father would share his knowledge with him,
like an intimate friend.
“My Vaalid Saab was in the habit of watching a lot of Hindi mythological films. We were once in
London. He was watching a film. It was during those bygone days when you had to play three
cassettes one after the other in a VCP to watch a movie. I was asleep. He called out in an
authoritative tone and I woke up. He asked me to stop the VCP, and I promptly obeyed. He asked
me to wash my face and I did so. When I came back and sat before him, he asked me to rewind. At a
particular point, he made me stop and watch it. It was Shivji, your God adorned with the moon on his
head and sporting a snake round his neck…”
Fareed was trying to establish the identity of Shiva to me by means of his description. “He was
seated with Parvathi. Parvathi has two sons Shanmukhaji and Ganeshji. Parvathi tells her husband to
assign her two sons with the job of gathering news about the entire world, suggesting that he should
appoint the one who completes the task first as his assistant. Shivji does not utter a word. Instead he
smiles. Shanmukhaji ventures on a tour of the entire world. What Ganeshji does is…you know the
story, right”, he enquired.
“I know, Ganesha went around his parents thrice and declared that he had covered the world”, I
continued the story. “You said it right, Ya Allah”, he laughed aloud.
“Then Vaalid Saab told me. Look, this is real ilm(इल्म), true knowledge. Sitting here in my place, I try to
understand the whole world. That is the kind of knowledge that we should make our own”, he
explained.
Strange, here is a Rama in the Ustad’s voice…
Eyes closed and with raised hands, his lips red with betel juice, the Ustad sings with a soulful
expression:
“Ram naam ki khunti gaadi
Suraj taana tantha”
‘Setting up the loom of Rama's name
The sun warps your life ’
The others join in. The name of Lord Rama reverberates with a festive zeal, emanating from soulful
voices. They are singing in earnestness, enriching their music with varied expressions and the dance of
their fingers, eyes shining bright and pouring forth compassion in its pristine form. Arey, who is this
Rama? Surely he is not the saffronized Rama of Ayodhya, within the confines of the brick walls of a
temple. Surely not the archer Rama, a puppet in the hands of others, who with his arms taut and
strong, stands with his tall bow pointing upwards to shoot an arrow aimed at the ballot box. He is the
simple straightforward Rama who transcends all boundaries of caste, religion, wall and border. He is
the Rama who is celebrated by the voices and fingers of so many musicians in India and Pakistan. He is
the Janaki Rama etched in the minds of the common people and the musical Rama born out of the
musical notes from the colourful voice of Ustad Fareed Ayaz, the Rama who can become the voice and
life-force for all.
************
 Sumangala (Kannada)
 C S Sarvamangala (To English)