‘The Nightingale of Desert’ sings no more

Impact of Reshma's music transcended political and class boundaries.

KARACHI:

“Are you crying?” My daughter caught me watching the news of Reshma’s death which included a clip of her famous song: akkhyan nu rair dey…. “What happened?” She asked.

I can understand that it is not easy for my daughter to comprehend that before the computer age, in fact before the television age and media explosion in Pakistan, when even the print media was rather awkward and without much colour, and essentially only Radio Pakistan constituted the ‘electronic media’, a remarkable phenomenon unfolded in the subcontinent. A barely literate teenager from a Rajasthani gypsy tribe who migrated to Pakistan in 1947 captured the hearts of listeners with her strong husky voice and songs that bloomed from the indigenous soil and rendered in perfect pitch.

Reshma did not even have the privilege of being born into a family of court musicians or trained by a maestro. Yet the impact of her music transcended political and class boundaries. From ordinary masses to heads of state and music celebrities publicly praised her talents. It may come as a surprise to many that most of her fans had not seen her until she started appearing on the solo black and white channel of Pakistan Television after 1964.

Many female singers attempted to emulate her style, but were not able to go too far, in spite of the fact that Reshma’s compositions are uncomplicated in soft notes. Perhaps a gifted, unique person like her falls in the category of the natural beauty of birds, forests, streams and the breeze that cannot be captured by human design.

The simplicity and innocence of her personality also had an originality that brought smile to her listeners. Once she was asked by an interviewer if her son went to school and she said yes, when further probed, “Which school does he go to?”

“Patanee ji, khud hi jata hai aur khud hi ajata hai.”  (I don’t know, he goes by himself and returns on his own.)

It is sad that since her illness in the 1980s, her performances and new albums gradually receded and her fans were deprived of the joy of her voice. Still, the participation of hundreds of people in her funeral, including some celebrities, shows the place she occupied in their hearts.  Famous folk singers Shaukat Ali and Naseebo Lal openly sobbed, politician Imran Khan had a pained look on his face when he revealed that she was extended free treatment at his cancer hospital and that he was a fan.

Although she has not been seen publicly for several years, it is amazing how heartfelt comments and condolences from all over continue to pour in the online news publications, including a sizeable number from India.

What would you make of it if her rendition of one line from her song could bring a tear or two to the eyes of adults who never actually met her? I call it magic.

The writer is a freelancer who writes about socioeconomics, travel and music.

Published in The Express Tribune, November 5^th, 2013.