Ally’Bad Days Part 3: Extract from “No Sex, Some Drugs & a lil-bit-o-rock&roll”.

Ally’Bad Days Part 3: Extract from “No Sex, Some Drugs & a lil-bit-o-rock&roll”.

Mr. M Z Khan, my boss and Managing Director of Geep Flashlight Industries, Allahabad,  had a young son, Karim, whose nick name was Babloo, just like mine. A very enthusiastic guitarist he liked to play hard rock riffs, and given a guitar he would withdraw into his own world – riffing away – endlessly, aimlessly and pointlessly. One of his aunts in the US gifted him a Vox Fuzz-Waah Pedal.’ Babloo acquired an Amplifier and Speaker and let blast with his riffs using the Fuzz-Waah.

It was a new sound never before heard in this town. Loud and jarring, most did not know what it was – perhaps a cat being tortured, perhaps a piece of machinery malfunctioning. It penetrated out of Babloo’s room jarring the ears of every passerby and every house in the neighborhood block. Babloo’s grandmother had a nervous breakdown. The neighborhood block was mainly the senior executives of Geep Flashlight put up a petition to the Chairman, Mr. Sherwani that their wives would leave them if this torture by sound continued.  Babloo’s mother decided to confiscate the fuzz-waah and the amplifier.

Babloo was a regular visitor at my house. He would be there even before I reached home from the office. My wife would make some “Tiffin” for him. He was also fond of my baby daughter and liked to play with her.

That day, Babloo was at my  home.

“Babloo,” said Babloo Khan to me, “Keep off these things with you, man. My mom wants to lock it up in the cupboard.” I was given custody of his Fuzz-Waah Pedal and Amplifier (Which of course, I could use).

Once, Babloo Khan played with my band. We had to go to Gorakhpur, near the Nepal border. We were to be away for three days. My main interest, shared by some of the band was to “score” and smoke some good Nepali hashish. I got back to office after a week. I had not taken leave but “bunked” and played truant from work. I was banking on the fact that my Boss’ Son was also with us.

I got a long dressing down and a philosophical sermon from Mr. M Z Khan, the MD.

“You know music takes a lot of perseverance and dedication” he said, “My cousin Ustad Bismillah Khan, the great Shehnaai Player would play in Dancing Girls and Prostitute houses in his early days, but he neither considered it lowly. nor was ashamed of it.”

It was a piece of wisdom the truth of which I came to realize two decades later when I played Guitar in Bangalore’s Cabaret hotels – Strip Tease Joints which existed up to 1995 till the Government and Police closed down all these shady establishments.

A couple of months before he retired my Dad asked me to get my Band for a Dine ‘n dance party in the Bamrauli Air Force Officer’s mess. Being the Principal Staff Officer of Central Air Command, my dad had helped me get all the gigs in the Air Force and even some Army establishments around.

“I don’t have a Band now,” I had to tell Dad, “All the buggers are not talking to each other now.”

Dad made a couple of calls to his office and then instructed me:

“Go down to Hanger No. 4. You’ll find the No.3 IAF Band practicing and meet Warrant Officer Brown. See if you do something for him.”

The Band Master was glad to help out.

“Fl.Sgt. Harry, here and I can back you with a Double Bass and a Drum Set”, he suggested.

“But I’ll be needing a Rhythm Guitar too to accompany with chords,” I said.

“We don’t have either a guitar or guitarist in our Band. As you know it is purely a Military Marching Band. We have many Brass & Wind instruments though.”

“No Guitarist?” I asked.

“Well, both ole Harry here and I can play Guitar, being Anglos, but as we also know all the songs you sing, it will be better we back you with Bass & Percussion. We have a fairly decent Drum Set too.”

“I will be better supported with chords. And most of my songs are on three chords anyway.”

“I can give you a Brass / Wind section for Rhythm & Chord support.” said the Band Master. He turned to his Band who were also assembled there

“Cpl. Reddy you will be on Tenor Sax. Cpl. Alphonse you take the Slide Trombone and Sgt. Murugesh can join on the trumpet. Don’t worry, tonight we drink in the Officer’s Mess” Indian Air Force tradition had separate Officer’s and Non-Commissioned Rank Messes.

I had taken my guitar, but when we started running through a few songs, I found the rhythm section quite uncomfortable with the Guitar Keys I used – E, D, A for many songs.

This is because most wind instruments are made to play on Tenor Key – B Flat, or Alto Key – E Flat.

“Can you retune your Guitar?” Wr.Off. Brown asked me, “Just a little bit – by just one “Fret” – a semitone.”

I said I could, so then we were set to perform, with my guitar A String tuned to B Flat. The Double Bass was also tuned “one fret higher”.

We rocked the show that night. Air Force Parties are like parades. Nobody goes to the Bar till the senior most Officer comes. And the Party ends only after he leaves. This kind of Protocol applied to the Wives and dependant kids like me too.

At that time Air Marshall Krishna Rao was the AOC-in-C of Central Air Command. He was a fun guy and the party went on well after midnight. Also, His son Deepak was “batting” for Shalini, the Group Captain from the Legal Branch’s daughter. Deepak could also play Guitar and he pitched in with a set.

The Protocol issue therefore depended on the Commanding Officer. Air Marshall Krishnarao”s predecessor was Air Marshal Idris Latif. A devout Teetotaler and a wife who came from the Hyderabad Royal Family – a true princess.

But Air Force “Dine ‘n Dance” Parties used to get over by 10 p.m. When Air Marshall Krishnarao came in they usually rocked well past midnight.

At the end of the party, the Air Marshall’s wife invited me to join the gathering for the dinner.

“Where will my Band have their dinner, aunty,” I asked her.

“My husband has arranged that they will be served in the Green Room” she told me. “They are from the Non-Commissioned Ranks, you know.”

“Then I must regret your invitation, aunty, I must have my dinner with them and I will have to be with them and enjoy the bottle the PMC (President Mess Committee) has sent us”.

I had my dinner with my band. Next evening I met the Air Marshall with my Dad when we went together for a drink at the Officer’s Mess Bar.

“Raja”, said the Air Marshall to Dad, “Your son did a correct thing last night. Today our kids are filled with the ego of our positions as Military Officers of the General Rank. My wife had told me he had his dinner with the JCOs in the green room:.”

Two decades later, at a time I was at my lowest ebb I met Kumaresh, the Flight Sergeant who played Trumpet. I met him on MG Road in Bangalore. I was broke. He was at that time Guitarist at Savera, on Mg Road. One of 13 Cabaret Hotels which were still functioning in 1991, it was as seedy as a Strip Joint could be.

It was Kumaresh who helped get me break into the Cabaret Music “scene”.