Ally’Bad Days Part 4: Extract from “No Sex, Some Drugs and a Lil’-Bit-o’-Rock & Roll.”

21.09.2014.

Ally’Bad Days Part 4: Extract from “No Sex, Some Drugs and a Lil’-Bit-o’-Rock & Roll.”

The year 1977 was a milestone in Indian Politics.

Indira Gandhi had imposed an “Emergency” in the Country in 1975 and impounded several Indian Politicians – Opposition Group Leaders, their lieutenants and sycophants and their foot soldiers too in Jail. In 1977, when the Emergency ended, Indira Gandhi was soundly defeated and a new Government, a non-Congress party came in. The Congress Party’s major defeats were in the Hindi-speaking states Of UP, Bihar, Rajasthan & MP.

Once, I had thought of Politics. But, I was in Allahabad, in the heart of UP, that too an outsider a “Madaraasi”. To people north of them, everybody south of the Vindhya Mountains was called a “Madaraasi”.

I had latched myself to one, Shuklaji, a small-time Congress Functionary even during the un-popular Emergency. Mainly, I wanted to get my Ration Card thru his “sifarish” or influence. I had got married and Shuklaji got me into Sanjay Gandhi’s Youth Brigade so that I could collect two financial rewards – Rs. 250 for “Not taking a dowry” – which I did not, and another Rs. 250 for “marrying outside my caste” – an Iyengar, I married an Iyer.

But the routes to Political achievement were quite fixed. Either you were born to a senior Politician or the scion of nobility. Or, you got in through the “Goonda – Dada – Netha” route.

You started off as a “Goonda”, a small time hoodlum and did various felonies including extortion.  A couple of jail terms would only add to your notoriety. At the “Dada” stage, you did not commit felony, but had your own gang of foot soldiers to do them. You settled disputes between your local populace, strong arming when required. Also, you could hire or lend your services and your gang of goons to a Political Party. Finally, one day, you changed your wardrobe and got clothes stitched with “Khadi” the national fabric and you became a “Netha” or politician.

Shuklaji, was a politician of this genre. Another acquaintance, Raja Bhai, had come in through the other route – he actually was a Raja – scion of one of Bundelkhand’s minor Princely states. While Shuklaji survived in freedom, Raja Bhai – an opponent of the Congress Party was picked up one fine day and put in jail. When the Emergency ended and he came out, Raja Bhai contested – on a Janatha Party Ticket and won. Shuklaji, as a Congress Candidate, lost.

Raja Bhai was a friend of Navin Dutt’s uncles. He knew us and our Band. Raja Bhai wanted to have a Victory Celebration in his town and asked us to bring our Band. He had even arranged a “Tempo” – a 3 Wheeler pickup truck to take us and our music equipment to his place – a distance of about 250 kms.  We were to leave early morning so that we could reach Raja’s palace for a Royal Lunch Treat.

We hit the highway to Jabalpur, turning off some distance away onto a bumpy, pot-holed district road which led to the Raja’s town – I think it was Satna or Katni or maybe Rajgarh, I have forgotten.

The town was typically Bundelkhand. A bustling hovel of mud and stone houses, narrow and dusty main streets and the town “Chowk”. A Post Office, the Taluk Tehsildar’s Office and a very, very modest Town Hall were the only government buildings.

Overlooking and dominating the landscape was the Palace. It perched on a cliff 200 feet high and there was a steep road climbing up it with a few hair-pin bends. The Palace was in a Fort. The fort was quite ancient. It sprawled over the hill top. Many of the battlements were in ruins. Also, it had apparently been rebuilt over the ages as many times as it was damaged or destroyed. The palace was perched on a wall of ruins directly overlooking the small town. It was quite a recent construction and had been built by Raja Bhai’s grandfather some time before the Second World War

Behind the Palace, the hills stretched away covered by the Forests of the Panna National Park. A large tract of the Forest had once been owned by the Raja’s royal ancestors and was their own private hunting ground. There was even a Hunting Lodge – built like a miniature of the Palace about 50 Km away.

The raja’s constituency was a rural, backward area, people were poor and uneducated. The entire scene of the Palace / Fort on the hill-top with the hovel of a town below reeked of the feudal air of a Lord of the Manor rapaciously ruling his serf subjects.

Philip Richardson, who lived in Kanpur, could not make this gig, so we had to get Trevor Coletrip, another part-time drummer. His Sister, who could sing reasonably wanted to come along and “jam” with the Band.

We loaded the Drum Kit, Amps and Speakers onto the open back of the “Tempo”. There was only one more seat in the Driver’s Cabin, so we had to let the girl sit in front, in comparative comfort, while we sat cross legged on the floor of the  open, bumpy, shaky vehicle. Hot, thirsty and tired we reached the town’s center just before noon.   Everyone wanted to get down, stretch their legs and cool off with some hot tea. I wanted to have a look at the venue, the Town Hall.

As I said, the Town Hall was a very, very modest affair. It could hardly seat two hundred. At the door there was a commotion. The Tehsildar had posted two constables with big, thick, Latthis. Several groups were squabbling vehemently.

Apparently, the fight was among various factions of Raja’s minions. They wanted to reserve and occupy the front rows in the Evening’s Function. There already was a huge crowd which could have filled several dozen Town Halls. Many had come in from the countryside to enjoy Raja Bhai’s Victory Celebration. The reason for this sudden influx was “The Band” – our Band.

The populace had got to know that there was going to be live music entertainment.

Then they came to know that it was going to be a western music band.

Then they heard it was going to be a “Gora” (White skinned Band). Actually there were four Anglo-Indians among us.

Then they had just heard that the Band was coming with a Female Singer. That too a “Gora”! Navin’s uncle had “trunk-called” and informed the Palace when we had left in the morning.

And now they saw the Gora Singer. The Tempo had stopped to pick up Deisel in the only Petrol Bunk which was in the town centre.  Everyone had got down to stretch their legs. A crowd of a thousand rustic young and middle aged men ogled her till she became uncomfortable. 

Once the Deisel got filled we went up the Hill to the Palace. We enjoyed the right Royal Meal, wolfing down the delicacies.

The function was to start at six in the evening, but at about three pm, came indications of problems.

Raja’s Personal Assistant rushed in:

“Bahut bheed hai, aur bahut Hangaama bhi hai gaon mein, sahib” (There is a huge crowd in the town and they are very restless and boisterous).

“Itne log kaise aa gayen?” (how did so many people turn up?) asked Raja.

The PA informed him that the entire proletariat had heard about the Band. They had also heard about the “Gora” Female Singer. The news was still spreading like wildfire and men were still streaming in from the countryside. Also wild speculation and rumors had started among the milling crowd. What music would the Band play? What would the “Gora” girl sing? Would she sing and dance too? What dress, or state of un-dress would she perform in?

By Six PM, when the function was supposed to begin, we could actually see and hear the commotion in the town hundred feet below. Three thousand boisterous men were chanting together:

“Program shuru karo. Hum Nanga Naatch maangta hai. Raaja Bhai ki Jai” (Start the program. We want to see naked dance. Glory be to Raja Bhai.)

It was clear there was no way we could go down and play the show. The Raja suggested that we leave and get out of harm’s way as soon as possible. He sent word down to the town that he had suddenly fallen ill and the program was cancelled.

“But the only way to go back is through the town Sir,” said the Tempo Driver. “We’ll all get lynched if we try that.”

“There is another way out,” said the Raja, “from the back side of the palace you can take the forest road to my Hunting Lodge, and from there you can reach the main Highway. It’s a detour of about 75 kms.”

So in the deepening dusk, we all got on to the Tempo and slipped out onto the Forest Road. The road was quite OK till the Hunting Lodge, but very bumpy from there till the highway. The band sat on the open tempo, ever terrified that we would be attacked by carnivores. But we reached Civilization safely, only crossing a herd of Neelgai, a large Antelope.

Another Politico friend of mine was a colorful character who called himself “Babbu Guru”. Another one who had taken the Goonda-Dada-Netha route,. he had donned Khadi and fought the election as an Independent, having failed to get Congress or Janata Party nomination. He not only lost but forfeited his deposit too. Actually, he was an Anglo-Indian and his name was L B Montrose. He knew my closeness to Anglo Indians and he helped get me quite a few musical gigs. These included a Circus, where I substituted for the guitarist for ten days.

 

Like the “Cabaret” of Bangalore, the Circus is an entertainment form that has disappeared. The Band was perched on a rickety box which was built over the stage entrance. Below us, the various artistes, acrobats, clown, the elephants, trained animals and the lions and tigers trooped into the ring. Wally, the Band Leader showed me how to play with a circus.

“Follow the timing of the Flying Trapeze Artists. Your Three-Four Waltz timing has to co-ordinate with that. And synchronize with the Motor Cyclists in the Wheel of Death too, with the four-four beats.” My stint with the circus was as rewarding as it was educative and strengthened my resolve that as a Professional Guitarist, I should be able to play any genre with any type of musical ensemble.

Babbu Guru also got me a few gigs with a Baraath Band. With the mobile “Baraath” band, I was the focus of attraction. Though I only played rhythm chords, I was perched on a decorative chariot. Actually it was just a rickety push cart – the type Vegetable Vendors use. It had been decorated to resemble a peacock and was pushed by a man along. Two poles focused hot Halogen Lights on me and my amplifier and speaker perched on the push-cart too. Another push cart at the end of the Band ensemble carried a noisy, smoky generator and dangerous looking power cables were strung till my “chariot” to power my amp and speaker and the hot halogen lamps. I was surrounded by a ten piece Brass Band, where the main melody was played by a trumpet player. Behind him came a full Brass Band with Tubas, F- Horns, Coronets, Trombones, Kettle Drums, Cymbals and Castanets. Beside the band, a small platoon of serfs carried Petromax Lanterns to light up the procession.

The Baraath Band accompanied the Groom – mounted on a Horse, wearing a veil of flowers below his Ceremonial Turban - and his party, in a raucous, noisy parade up to the wedding venue – usually a distance about 2 km.

What with a dancing, boisterous gang of the groom’s relatives, high on booze or bhang, Fire Works being lit and burst along the way, the full brass band and me, the Baraath Band is the most glorious noisy cacophony I have ever participated in.