Umesh Kumar Ray

Devesh

Editor

Ajay Sharma

Translator

Shaoni Sarkar

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“Today TV and
mobile phones are there, and people entertain themselves with those,” says
Muslim Khalifa, tightening the rings of the dholak as he
speaks.  



Muslim Khalifa
sings the epic folklore of 12th century warriors Alha and Udal (also known as
Rudal). The folk singer and dholak player from Samastipur district of
Bihar, has been doing this for almost five decades; his voice is sharp and
musical, reflecting the skills of someone who has been singing for a while.



Around
April-May, during the harvest season for paddy, wheat and maize, he roams
around farms with his dholak and sings for the farming community. In
exchange for a performance of about two hours, he could get up to 10 kilograms
of grain from the newly harvested crop. “It takes a month to harvest the three
crops, so I spend my whole month in the fields,” he says. During the wedding
season increased demand earns him Rs. 10,000-15,000 over three months. 



The expansive
song, depicting 52 episodes, could take several days to narrate completely and
calls for a committed and engaged audience. “But,” says Khalifa, “today who
will listen for so long?” The 60-year-old resident of Khalispur village is now
witnessing a decline in his income from singing. Even his own children, he
rues, are hardly interested in Alha-Udal. 



Khalifa follows Islam but
belongs to the Nat community, listed as Scheduled Caste in the state. The
current population of the Nat community in the state is 58,819, but “you will
find only one or two such [Alha-Udal] singers in 10-20 villages,” Khalifa said
while talking to us in May 2023.

At his home in
Khalispur, a dholak hangs on the walls of his straw hut; a wooden chowki
and a few belongings are visible. It is the same hut where six generations
of Khalifa’s ancestors lived; he lives here with his wife Momina. We ask
Khalifa to sing the Alha-Udal song, but he requests us to return the following
morning because evenings are not conducive for singing. The next day, he
finishes colouring his moustache before sitting down on the chowki with
his dholak. 



It takes him
five minutes to tighten the rope fastened to the two sides of the dholak.
Next, he moves the brass rings across the rope and drums his fingers on the
instrument to test the sound. For the next five minutes we are treated to the
Alha-Udal saga, sung in a high pitch. The song spans
across the Betwa river, war and the heroic feats of the two brothers in Mahoba.
He tells us that there was a time when he would cross distances of 10 kos (roughly
31 kilometres) to sing the Alha-Udal saga. 



Once he is
done, Khalifa lets the leather membrane of the dholak collapse by
lowering the brass rings and hangs it back onto the wall. “If we don&#39;t loosen
the leather, it will get damaged, and if there is lightning or rain, the dholak
will explode,” he says. “I don’t know why it happens.”



The frame of
the dholak is made of wood and is about 40 years old. The instrument’s
structure stays the same, though the ropes and the leather are changed every six
months. “The frame of the dholak is perfect. We put mustard oil on it to keep
the termites away.”



He considers the last 20–30
years to have been the golden age of Alha-Udal singers when they were in demand
for Bidesiya Naach programmes. “Landlords used to invite us to their
places to listen to this heroic saga.”

Bidesiya is a well-known play by late Bhojpuri playwright Bhikhari Thakur. It
belongs to one of the Bhojpuri folk traditions chronicling the migration of
people to cities in search of employment. These stories are rendered in song
and dance. 



Khalifa recalls
a time when Alha-Udal singers like him would receive grand hospitality from
landlords. “There was so much demand for the song that we had no time to spare
throughout the year. I would sing so much that my throat hurt. Many times, I
had to refuse [the landlords].”

The heroic epic
Alha-Udal is popular across the northern states of India. Brothers Alha and
Udal served as army commanders for Chandel king Parmal who ruled Mahoba in
current day Uttar Pradesh, in the 12th century AD, says an article in the
journal, The World of Music by Karine Schomer. Tasked with the
protection of Mahoba, Alha-Udal are known to have been fearless and skilled
warriors. The Alha-Udal saga ends with the great battle between the kingdoms of
Mahoba and Delhi.



Khalifa traces
his roots to Mahoba himself. He says that his ancestors were residents of the Mahoba region, and
they fled during the reign of Akbar and settled in Bihar. He adds that his
ancestors belonged to the Rajput caste. On reaching Bihar, his ancestors took
up the family tradition of singing Alha-Udal for a livelihood. The art was
passed down the generations. 



Khalifa was two
when his father, Sirajul Khalifa passed away. He was raised by his
mother.  “Growing up, whenever I found a singer singing Alha-Udal, I used
to go listen to him,” he recounts. “It was the gift of Saraswati that I could
memorise any song after hearing it once. I was crazy about this [Alha-Udal
song] only and could not focus on any other work.”

During that
period, he met a singer named Rahman Khalifa, whom he calls ‘ustad’
(teacher). “I used to attend the programmes with him. I used to help him out,
and I carried his things,&quot; he says. Sometimes, Rahman would give him a dholak
and ask him to sing. &quot;I memorised 10–20 chapters of Alha-Udal&#39;s story
while I was with him.”



Khalifa did not
complete his education, but it&#39;s not that he was not interested in studies. He
used to attend a government school, but one day a teacher beat him up and he
left the school for good.



“I was 7–8
years old then,” he says. “I had a good voice from childhood, so the teachers
at school liked me greatly and often asked me to sing. A teacher slapped me
hard one day when I made a mistake while singing a prayer. This angered me, and
I stopped going to school after that.”



Muslim
Khalifa’s life is a saga of its own. He says he is grateful for the gifts that
Alha-Udal songs brought him but nurses some regrets. He brought up his three
children and got them married with the money he earned from singing, but he
says he can no longer sustain his family by singing and playing the dholak. He
gets invited to only a few domestic events and earns Rs. 300-500 per
performance. 



There was a day
when his son asked him what property he had made, and he (Khalifa) was
heartbroken. A shadow of sadness crosses his face as he recounts the incident.
“[My son’s] question gave me pause. I realised that I couldn&#39;t really save any
money by singing Alha-Udal. I couldn&#39;t buy a piece of land to build a house.
Wherever I went, I got a lot of respect, but only enough money to fill my
stomach. 



“Generations of
my family have lived here, [but] the land upon which my hut stands is
government land, on the bank of a government pond.”

His wife,
fifty-five-year-old Momina, who used to be a skilled tattoo artist, suffers
from asthma and a hearing impairment. “Earlier, we used to travel from village
to village, and I would carve tattoos with my own hands. Now, there’s no
strength left in my body. It’s my husband who has been keeping me alive,” she
says.



Overshadowing
Khalifa’s personal losses is a greater grief. He understands that the younger
generations are not interested in Alha-Udal and that after him, there might be
no one left in his family to take the artform forward. 



“My
father, grandfather and their ancestors used to only sing Alha-Udal. I sing it
now, but my son hasn&#39;t learned it yet. My children are not interested,” he
rues. “We used to sing the song because we were passionate about it. But the
younger generations do not care about it.”



“Earlier, Khurdak
baja- the accompaniment of instruments like shehnai and tabla- was played
at weddings. It was replaced by Angrezi baja, where drums, trumpets,
shehnai, keyboards, and more, are played simultaneously. Then there was the
trolley, where local singers would sing to the music of angrezi baja.
Now the DJ is ruling the market. All other instruments have become obsolete,”
Khalifa says. 



“It saddens me
that after my death, there may be no trace left of this art [in my family],” he
adds.



This
story is supported by a fellowship in memory of a trade unionist from Bihar who
championed the struggles of marginalised people in the state.

In Bihar, Muslim Khalifa keeps Alha-Udal alive

مسلم خلیفہ: بہار میں آلہا اودل گانے والے آخری فنکار

బిహార్‌లో ఆల్హా-ఉదల్‌ని బతికిస్తోన్న గాయకుడు ముస్లిమ్ ఖలీఫా

அல்ஹா-உதாலை உயிர்ப்புடன் வைத்திருக்கும் முஸ்லிம் கலீஃபா

ਮੁਸਲਿਮ ਖ਼ਲੀਫ਼ਾ: ਆਲਹਾ-ਊਦਲ ਵੀਰਗਾਥਾ ਦੇ ਅਖ਼ੀਰਲੇ ਗਵੱਈਆ

ବିହାରରେ, ଆଲ୍‌ହା-ଉଦଲଙ୍କୁ ଜୀବିତ ରଖିଛନ୍ତି ମୁସଲିମ ଖଲିଫା

आल्हा-ऊदल गाणारे शेवटचे कलाकार मुस्लिम खलीफा

ബിഹാറിൽ മുസ്ലിം ഖലീഫ് അൽഹ-ഉദാലിനെ നിലനിർത്തുന്നു

ಮುಸ್ಲಿಂ ಖಲೀಫಾ: ಅಲ್ಹಾ-ಉದಲ್ ಗಾಯನ ಪರಂಪರೆಯ ಕೊನೆಯ ಕೊಂಡಿ

मुस्लिम ख़लीफ़ा, जेकर परान मं बसे हवय आल्हा-ऊदल

उनकर छाती में धड़केला आल्हा ऊदल के गीत

মুসলিম খলিফার গানে বেঁচে আছে আল্হা-উদলের বীরগাথা

আলহা-উদল গাথাক জীয়াই ৰখা বিহাৰৰ মুচলিম খালিফা

मुस्लिम ख़लीफ़ा: बिहार में आल्हा-ऊदल के आख़िरी गवैया

Khalispur

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In Bihar, Muslim Khalifa keeps Alha-Udal alive

A lone folk singer takes the Alha-Udal (Rudal) epic across the state, singing in fields, wedding parties and home events. He recalls a time when he was much in demand, but says now interest is dwindling in this long musical – an 800-year-old story of a warrior duo

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