The Santoor’s lead role in Bollywood
The Santoor, a stringed instrument with a percussive element, once reigned supreme in Indian soirées. Pandit Shivkumar Sharma’s mastery could evoke a kaleidoscope of emotions, even bringing tears to listeners’ eyes. Now, with Sharma’s passing, the torch falls to his son Rahul.
Despite its captivating presence in Indian music, the Santoor’s story remains largely unknown. This exotic instrument journeyed from Persia to India centuries ago, before finding a home in various regions across the country. Indian music lovers will recall the Santoor’s role in specific, unforgettable moments in Bollywood music history.
Films like “The Great Gambler” with their iconic song “Do Lafzon Ki Hai Yeh Kahani” and “Razia Sultan” featuring “Aye-Dil-E-Nadan” showcased the instrument’s magnetic force. Pandit Shivkumar Sharma, wielding the Persian Santoor, blended his artistry with the masterful work of other musicians to create a layered soundscape. The Santoor’s calming melody has long been a mainstay in Indian cinema, in songs like “Dekha Ek Khwab Toh Yeh Silsile Hue” in “Silsila” to the recent success of “Hum Aapke Hain Kaun.” In fact, in these movies, the music often overshadowed the films themselves.
The Santoor’s star is fading
However, the era that saw Sharma single-handedly elevate the Santoor’s popularity in India appears to be fading, with fewer new-age musicians drawn to its strings. In a bid to understand this shift, we spoke with Shahrukh Kawa (29), one of the youngest Santoor players from the Sikar Gharana. Kawa shed light on the instrument’s rich history in India. “The tradition of Santoor music,” he explained, “dates back roughly 400 years. It was deeply intertwined with classical thumri – a blend of graceful dance movements and expressive storytelling – and thrived during musical dangals, competitive music duels where skilled musicians showcased their prowess.”
Adding a personal touch, Kawa noted, “Even my father, Ustad Ramzan Kha, participated in these dangals.” Kawa laments the Santoor’s fading presence in contemporary music. “The instrument’s popularity among musicians has waned considerably,” he says. “Part of the challenge lies in its complexity. With 125 strings of brass, copper, and steel, brass, and requiring three strings to produce a single note, tuning is a demanding skill to master. Its delicate nature further discourages some, as modern musicians often gravitate towards more robust Western instruments.” However, Kawa remains a beacon of hope. “Preserving this heritage is my mission,” he declares. “By continuing to perform and teach the Santoor, I strive to ensure this melody remains woven into the fabric of Indian music.”
Iran to India
The Santoor, with its flat, trapezoidal wooden body adorned with taut metal strings, is a fascinating instrument. Played with delicate wooden hammers, its origins stretch back centuries. While historical records point to a similar instrument existing in Iran (then known as Persia) as early as 669 BC, the Indian Santoor’s story is more complex.
Legends link it to the Vedic era’s “Vana or Shata Tantri Veena,” a stringed instrument with a hundred strings. However, no physical evidence of this ancestor exists. The instrument we know today likely arrived in Kashmir sometime in the 14th century, an adaptation of the Persian Santoor.
In Kashmir, it found a place in both folk music and Sufi devotional traditions. Santoor’s rise to national prominence can be largely attributed to the late Pandit Shivkumar Sharma. But with his passing, the Santoor’s place in Indian music appears increasingly precarious.
Focus on improvisation
A dying tradition or a shift in taste? Why, we asked young Santoor player Shahrukh Kawa, are new-age musicians seemingly moving away from this ancient instrument? Kawa, who hails from Sikar (120 km from Jaipur), and began his musical journey at the age of 5, discussed the intricacies of playing the Santoor.
“The Santoor’s playing techniques are highly individualistic,” Kawa explained, highlighting the instrument’s focus on improvisation, exemplified by the alap. He further elaborated on the importance of mallet control and string position in achieving tonal variations. “The musician’s interpretation plays a key role in shaping the performance,” he said.
Delicate Sheesham and Mango Wood
“The preference for Sheesham and mango wood lies in their ability to resonate seamlessly,” Kawa explained. “Using other types of wood would require assembling the instrument from multiple pieces, which can affect the sound quality and overall integrity.” Kawa elaborated on the price point and care involved with Sheesham Santoors.
“While a Sheesham Santoor offers a beautiful sound at around 1.5 Lakhs, it’s crucial to remember that this wood is delicate,” he cautioned. “Even a minor scratch can cause damage. Maintaining a stable, controlled environment is essential, as the instrument is susceptible to water damage and extreme temperatures.”
Practice makes perfect
The instrument demands meticulous care and maintenance, and mastering its intricacies can take a significant amount of time – anywhere from 3 to 12 years. Shahrukh exemplifies the commitment required. Inspired by his father’s unwavering discipline, Shahrukh adheres to a rigorous practice routine, dedicating 4 hours daily to honing his craft. His father, a sarangi player himself, embodied this dedication, practicing from the young age of 8 until his 80s, with a pre-dawn routine that continued until his final days.
Shahrukh’s practice schedule reflects the same depth. His mornings are reserved for mastering raags Ahir Bhairavi, Miyan ki Todi, and Todi. In the afternoons, he delves into raags Malkaus and Madhvanti, while evenings are dedicated to raag Bhopali, Yaman, and Jog. This dedication serves as a testament to the perseverance required to excel in the world of Santoor.
A complex, hybrid-string instrument
In a demonstration, Shahrukh Kawa cradled the ship-like Santoor in his lap, its narrow end facing outwards. With practiced ease, he played a selection of pieces, ranging from Bollywood classics to serene evening ragas. Lightweight wooden mallets, held between his thumb, index, and middle fingers, danced across the strings. The curved ends of the mallets glided smoothly over groups of three strings, each bundled together to produce a single pitch.
These delicate groupings rested on tiny bridges called “Kharaks.” Thirty metal strings stretched across two sets of 15 bridges, spanning three octaves of rich tones. The strings were secured by pins on the left side of the instrument and tuned with pegs on the right.
As the final notes faded, Kawa’s voice softened with emotion as he spoke about his deep connection to the Santoor. He recounted a particularly moving performance of “Megh Malhar,” a raga traditionally associated with monsoon rains. Despite clear skies at the start of his performance, a sudden downpour began just 30 minutes into his rendition, seemingly echoing the emotions evoked by the music itself.
A legacy that may be lost
Shahrukh Kawa’s dedication to the Santoor is undeniable, evidenced by his performances at prestigious events like the Desert Festival and Virasat Utsav in India, and international appearances in Germany, London, France, and the UAE. However, his career trajectory highlights a crucial challenge faced by many classical Indian musicians – a scarcity of performance opportunities.
A dwindling number of musicians threatens the future of the Santoor in India. With only a few dedicated players remaining, the evocative instrument’s legacy hangs in the balance. These musicians are fighting to keep the tradition alive for future generations. The hope, of course, is for a resurgence of interest. Without a way to draw in new players and audiences, the Santoor risks becoming a relic, a story told only through faded recordings and dusty instruments.
The onus falls on both the existing practitioners and the cultural institutions of India to ensure this doesn’t happen. Collaborative efforts, educational programs, and a renewed focus on the beauty of the Santoor are all crucial steps in preserving this unique piece of Indian musical heritage.