The syncretic flute of Sagir Ansari

It’s five in the morning, and the sun is yet to punch in for the day, but two distinct calls are already waking up this little census town of Hathua in Bihar’s Gopalganj district. One is of muezzins' voices proclaiming azan from the minarets of a few mosques. The other is of bhajan singers from three or four temples in the area. A melodious Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar! Ashhadu an la ilaha illa Allah...merges with chanting voices anchored by the rhythms of cymbals hare Raam, hare Krishna, hare Krishna, hare Raam. And then, resonating in the air and coming from somewhere a little closer is the sound of a flute, stirring the different notes together into a serene concoction.

It is the pull of the melody being played on the bansuri (flute), a curiosity to meet the artist that takes me to the 176-year-old Gopal temple. Built between 1850 and 1866 by the then maharani of Hathua, Shyam Sundari Kunwar, the structure is surrounded by the old fort, a new fort and a Sheesh Mahal (palace of mirrors). A security person is guarding the massive gates of this royal temple, built at an expense of some 4,50,000 silver coins, equivalent to some 55 crore rupees in today's money. Inside, spread across 14 acres of land are gardens, fountains, ponds, a Sanskrit University building, and the famous temple with many rooms.

The temple is the private property of descendants of one of the oldest aristocratic familes that ruled the erstwhile Hathua princely state. It is open to the public in the mornings and evenings, when you will see a few devotees trickle in. A pujari performs the aarti in front of the Radha Krishna idols in the inner sanctum. Facing that, seated on the floor of the large, pillared hall are musicians with their instruments – tabla, harmonium, cymbals. And there amidst the group is Mohammed Sagir Ansari, the artist I have heard about from my colleagues.

A 70-year-old Muslim musician offering his flute to the the deities in the Gopal temple. He finds nothing unusual about his work. “All human beings are equal. There is no difference among us,” he says. “We should all live in harmony. Yah ek gyan hai jo khudane muze diya hai. Aur gyan bantne mein kuchh bhi galat nahi hai. [This art, this knowledge is Khuda’s grace and there is nothing wrong in sharing it]. I have been playing the flute here for more than a decade now.”

“During the time of the queen Shyam Sundari, artists used to play the shehnai at the temple entrance at aarti times. After her death they discontinued the practice for years. The present head of the erstwhile royal family, Mrigendra Pratap Sahi, revived the old tradition and in 2015 he hired a few artists to play music and sing bhajans." It was then, more than a decade ago, that a car belonging to Hathua’s royal family had pulled up at Sagir Ansari’s doorstep. The estate manager accompanied by Sagir’s elder cousin had come with an invitation from Mrigendra Sahi, who had read about this accomplished flute player in the daily Hindustan. That is how his association with the temple began. Sagir was 59.

But his relationship with the bansuri started six decades ago, in 1965 when he was just 9 years old. “Flutes were made right inside our home. We still make them, but my health doesn’t allow me to craft that many. Back when my mother was alive, she used to make them as well,” he says. It was his grandfather, Jumrati Miyan, who taught him how to craft - and sell – flutes.

Jumrati Miyan had studied till Class 10. He worked at the Hathua post office during the British Raj. "After retirement he once travelled to Calcutta on some business and brought back a flute,” Sagir remembers. “He played it himself; it was a passion. Later, he gathered reeds from around the village and tried his hand at replicating the instrument. Once his replica could produce a sound, he began crafting – ten a day, twenty next.

“He used to employ a couple of people to help him sell flutes at local fairs and markets first. They came from the Mirshikar community. This neighbourhood is called Mirshikar tola after them. They used to hunt birds. Hathua Raj had brought them from elsewhere else and settled them here,” Sagir says. He believes that today the community practices the craft they have learnt from Jumrati Miyan and are earning their livelihood by making and selling flutes, often travelling to various regions across the country.

Sagir himself had travelled outside Bihar for years to support his family after his father died in 1970. He would only return for five days in a month to hand over the money to his mother. “I would go to fairs in Allahabad (now Prayagraj), Lucknow, Banaras, Kanpur, Katni, Bilaspur, Raipur, Raigarh, Rewa, Satna, and Jabalpur. After the fair I would travel around to sell more pieces. I used to play the flute as well. Some four to five hundred rupees a day meant a substantial amount back then," he says.

Sagir also performed in the Mahiviri Jhanda processions in the village, a festival celebrating the Hindu deity Hanuman. Artists from different parts of the country would be invited to participate. It was on one occasion here that he met Fakira master, a flutist in the band run by Chokat Miyan (whose real name was Rahman). “Someone mentioned me to Chokat Miyan saying that there was a boy here who played the flute really well. So, he came and took me under his wing. And when Fakira Master saw me play the flute, he was happy to accept me as one of his disciples.

Fakira Master was an expert in playing Dhrupad and played with incredible speed. Sagir says that he had great knowledge of music. “I was eager to learn from him. Whenever he went to the river, four or five of us would sit at the ghat and listen to him play a few melodies for us. Every day he would teach us for five or ten minutes. That is how I learned two or three ragas.”

The master went away to Meerut after a year, but Sagir continued to play at fairs and processions, well after his marriage, well after his children and grandchildren were born. He was travelling, selling and playing the flute until that invitation came from the erstwhile royal family.

For more than 10 years now, it is the offering from his flute that starts the aarti in the temple. Sagir’s family sees him as playing for religious harmony. Things are changing for the young generation in the town, though. A subtle tension, a rather imperceptible distance, is making its way across the 43 per cent of Muslim and 56 per cent of Hindu population in the town in the last decade or so.

Sagir recalls an incident from 2015. A devout Muslim, he is used to offering prayers five times in a day. “Often the time for Maghrib coincided with the evening aarti. So in the beginning when I started offering Namaz here [inside the temple], a chowkidar at the main gate of the complex went and complained to Hathua maharaj. He called, and in front of me, reproached the chowkidar. I remember him saying, ‘Is he digging my land and carrying it away or what? Is he harming someone? If not, why are you complaining?’ Since then, I have never had any trouble here.”

This story was originally reported in Urdu.