Music is often a medium to express dissent. Manisha Pande listens to the voices that sing in protest.
Asi pahunchna shaheedaan waali manzil (our destination is where the martyrs dwell),” sings Bant Singh, one of the most iconic protest singers of India. There is something raw and gritty about his voice. It has the coarseness of a man who knows what it is to be marginalised.
Singh, a Dalit Sikh farmer from Jhabar village in the Mansa district of Punjab, has experienced oppression first hand and knows that the fight against injustice can be treacherous. In 2006, he was beaten by a gang of seven men for daring to get a case registered against his minor daughter’s rapists. They were high-caste landlords and despite the panchayat’s advice to him to let the matter rest, he took them on. The attack cost Singh his arms and his left leg. But it did not suppress his voice. Six years on, Singh continues to sing, with his trademark red turban in place. “Mazdooran de haqqan di ladai hai (this is a fight for farmers’ rights),” he says in a matter-of-fact voice. Singh says he’s been singing ever since he was 10 and will continue to do as long as he lives.
Along with protest singers such as lok shahir (folk poet) Sambhaji Bhagat, balladeer Gaddar (who was born Gummadi Vittal Rao), Susmit Bose and Kabir Suman, Singh is an inspiration for those who have chosen music as a medium of expressing dissent.
Though the idea was formally adopted in the 1940s by The Indian People’s Theatre Association — the cultural wing of the Communist Party of India — it had taken shape a decade earlier in the 1930s when people revolted against colonial rule and caste oppression. Eighty years on, it’s politicians, industrialists and security forces who have become the subject of contemporary protest songs.
While Singh finds inspiration in regional revolutionary poets, his urban counterparts draw from the revival of American folk music in the 1960s. Ironically, Bob Dylan, who himself shrugged off the ‘protest singer’ label, remains the biggest influence for most.
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Ronid Chingangbam (29), the lead singer of Imphal Talkies N The Howlers, is one such example. Formed in 2008, this was the first Manipuri rock band to be featured in Rolling Stone magazine when it released its first album, ‘Tiddim Road’. Complete with a harmonica and an acoustic guitar, Chingangbam’s style is markedly Dylanesque. He has been a regular feature at most protest events in Delhi. “Mainstream urban India has ignored the conflict of its poor cousins for long. Being in New Delhi, the centre of political power, made me want to communicate the strife of my people through my music,” he says. In a song titled ‘India’, he expresses his bewilderment at the ignorance of people: “India! Have you ever heard of a lady named Sharmila? Are you waiting for the stone-pelters to become suicide bombers? Why do you let him walk free, writing books, preaching genocide?” He says he looks up to the Beat generation and wants to travel across the country for a year singing songs about social injustice and political crimes.
Many other artists from the North-East echo Chingangbam’s sentiment. Aiyushman Dutta, general secretary of the Eastern Beats Music Society, an informal group of musicians, journalists and activists based in Guwahati, explains why: “The North-East remains a trouble-torn region with ethnic clashes. The young face a lot of issues like substance abuse and there is a feeling of alienation. Music in such a scenario can be a great way of venting out your frustration.” The group organises ‘Freedom Jam’ annually to protest the bandh culture in Assam on Independence Day.
Datta says Reuben Mashangva, called the father of modern Naga folk blues, Phu baba from Assam’s Karbi Anglong district and Abiogenesis, the band from Nagaland, are some inspirational musicians. “They have been able to inspire a whole new generation of musicians whose compositions are increasingly reflecting the socio-political scenario,” he adds.
Though there are numerous rock bands and the base for alternative music is growing, the popular songs typically talk of generic themes like love, longing and heartbreak. But for one-odd song in an album, most remain apolitical. “I find it bizarre that we didn’t have a single band coming up and singing a song on what happened in Gujarat in 2002 or on farmers’ suicide or Machang Lalung who spent nearly 54 years in prison without a trial,” says Chingangbam.
Urban folk singer Susmit Bose blames the absence of protest singers on commerce. “The constraints of being popular and viable are such that you end up doing what the crowd wants,” he says and adds, “There are very few who are writing original protest songs.” Bose had dropped out of college in the final year to become a singer in the heady atmosphere of the 70s. He decided that it was time India had its own Pete Seeger to sing about the angst of urbanisation and fragmentation. Thirty years and eight albums later, Bose has found an audience and a market. He now charges between Rs 30,000 and a lakh for a concert, depending on whether it’s for an NGO or a corporate gig.
For most singers, cutting an album remains a problem. Their sharp socio-political commentary makes big record labels vary of them. “It’s all okay till you are singing on issues like the environment or the girl child, but the moment you name a politician or take on the government, people would ask you to change the lyrics or not sing at all,” says Bose.
Being a non-conformist isn’t easy. Dancehall reggae artiste Taru Dalmia, aka Delhi Sultanate, agrees. He says there is an atmosphere of fear and that it’s not safe to upset people’s political sensibilities. “The subversive ethos of Dancehall culture deeply affects my work and my music tries to speak in a more assertive and militant voice,” Dalmia says. He minces no words when he takes on issues. “Reverse the pressure and unleash the lava/Who made Kashmir look like Gaza?” goes a song. “Elected pimps and murderers,” is a refrain in the same song.
Under the project ‘Word sound and power’, Dalmia has collaborated with Bant Singh and Chris McGuinness to bring out the album, ‘The Bant Singh Project’, which is available for free on wordsoundandpower.org. A regular at Delhi’s underground music scene, he wants to collaborate with more protest singers like Gaddar and Kashmiri rapper M C Kash — who grabbed attention with his song, I Protest (Remembrance), which talks about the death of teenagers in the Valley during the 2010 unrest.
Dalmia dreams of a time when the average “street kids” of India find music and use it to talk about their frustrations and concerns in their own style and language. Much like the disaffected African-American youth of the ghettos in New York City, who went on to invent a style of music that we today know as hip-hop.
