Recently as a result of Monimashi being hospitalized, cousins from different parts of the world started getting together via zoom meetings. I joined on Sunday 13 February 2022. Inspite of the issue the meeting filled me with a sense of warmth which is one of those feelings which is difficult to explain in words. Brothers and sisters from across the world came together — we do not have the word cousin or the relationship it denotes in our dictionary. My Phoolmashi who came on virtual space had explained to me God existence, one that I could understand and accept. I am sharing with gratitude — all human beings have a space of vacuum in them which can be filled with music, love or God, again feelings and concepts that are difficult to put in words. Once when I visited Calcutta during Puja, Monimashi made me see why Durga Puja is celebrated in Bengal year after year and made it logical and needed. There are many who make their annual income during Puja and for that this extravaganza of artists, craftsperson, food and culture combine together in annual festivities. I love my Mashis, each one of them is an enigma, so different from one another and so very connected in different ways to Amma, my mother.
Abida Parveen songs are one of those feelings that fill void and emptiness. Why suddenly she should come in my thoughts? She is always there but asserts herself sometimes. Babu, my Phoolmashi’s son sent one of Abida’s recent song, a duet with Naseebo Lal, a vibrant voice, Abida and she complement each other. Abida opened a floodgate of memories. I really cannot remember when I started listening to her. I have a vague recollection of my brother-in-law getting lots of EMI cassettes of Music of Pakistan when he returned from his first visit to Dubai. I got introduced to Nayaara Noor, Munni Begum and many more at that time, regret not remembering any male names. Iqbal Bano was one of Baba’s favourite so I knew her as a child but connected her to ‘Hum dekhenge’ much later. Noor Jahan of course all of India knew. Abida is one of my favourites, the others have their own space.
During my communication with ASR-IWSL regarding a three months Residential Certificate Course on Women’s Studies in Lahore it did not register to me that Lahore is in Pakistan. I am unaware ‘why taking visa for going to Lahore’ was strange to me. After my admission to the course was final I asked ASR person if Abida Parveen lived in Lahore. She replied in negative, she lived in Karachi. I just let it lie dormant during my course, as there was not much scope to digress with the kind of education I was getting, with women from ten countries (Philippines, Thailand, Bangkok, South Africa, Nigeria, Nepal, Srilanka, Bangladesh, India and Pakistan) as participants and faculty introducing the Third World gendered perspective across the world.
One day I got to know there was going to World Sufi Music Conference in Lahore. I was thrilled. No World Sufi Music Conference could be complete without Abida Parveen. Nighat said that they had got her from Karachi to Lahore for me to be able to hear her. I found that her session was on 3rd March. I rallied with my classmates in which Anita, a Sindhi classmate from Hyderabad Sind, was enthusiastically with me and we got everyone to agree to attend Abida’s session. 3rd March was Bee’s (classmate from Bangkok) birthday, so all classmates were invited for dinner in Afsheen’s home but we programmed the dinner in such a way that we would go directly from there to the Conference venue.
The course was packed with assignments to be submitted almost every third day which I relished but I announced in advance that I was not going to do any on 3rd March. The D-day arrived. I was going up the stairs and I saw Kamala Bhasin going down and I spontaneously asked her if she was going for Abeeda Parveen’s programme. Her response was in full affirmation and she asked when and I told her today. Nighat (Saeed Khan, my guide) who was coming right behind her in mock anger said that I had put holes in the dinner which she had organized with great difficulty. Dr. Jasodhara Bagchi was there too and never heard Abeeda Parveen. I responded to Nighat with gusto, dinner you can have anytime but Abeeda Parveen you must take all of them. I still did not know what luxury I was inviting them too.
I have no recollection of what I ate that night which knowing the other places I (being from India) was invited for lunch/dinners in Lahore must have been sumptuous to say the least. All my classmates cooperated and we reached the venue in time. The ticket was Pakistani Rs.60/- per person! The venue was an open air theatre with star covering the clear sky. Even to think gives me goose pimples. The night was exhilarating with Abeeda Parveen’s voice reverberating in not only the atmosphere of the auditorium but even the universe. The audience was spell bound. Towards the end a woman from another part of the world (probably Germany) joined her. One of the few times I noticed the contrast in appearance of the two singers — I saw Abeeda Parveen as a plump and voluptuous woman, she sat down and sang and the German woman (regret not remembering her name) as petite, sang standing; what an amazing combination of music they made; probably got the stars to come down from sky.
Later Nighat while checking one of my assignments said, you did not come here to study, you came for Abeeda Parveen. I did go again once to listen to her live when she came to Jaipur Central Park, again open air, but the heady combination of Lahore, Abeeda Parveen, women of ten countries and Nighat of course, could not be recreated.
