Sitting for his evening session, he begins, speaking in his
old smooth Bengali, his long fingers holding a gold-embossed cup of fortified milk. “You know, in the olden days we could not
simply decide one day to put the title pandit
or ustad in front of our names at our
own whim, simply as a marketing technique.
There was a strict and solemn code on who could be call themselves, or
be referred to as, Pandit or Ustad.
“I remember it was only two years since I had left Maihar
and eventually returned to Varanasi after touring the south of India. I was
performing actively at the request of Baba.
In 1958, the principal of Adra University invited me to Adra, in Bihar.
Several elders also attended the music conference. After my performance, they
began to discuss. They called me and
said, ‘You are now Pandit.’
“And, so it became. And so it was. That day, Kishen Maharaj,
who was also invited to the music conference, was given the title Sangat Samrāt,
indicating his competence to accompany classical Indian musicians. At that time, the blessing of the title was
purely performance-based. Once could not inherit it, though one’s family would
predispose one to learning music. But a person had to earn the title, through
his or her own merit.” Jotin Mesho
pauses. “Now.... every tom, dick and harry
finds, or hires, someone to listen to him and entitle him as Pandit. How can a
world audience know who is real…? They do not know, in fact. And that is why
they cannot appreciate the depth and delight of true Indian classical music…”
in conversation,
Friday, Sept 26, 2014, Durgakund.
