It’s neither a flute nor a whistle — yet the sound is pure melody. From a distance, 78-year-old Hazrat Sheikh looks like he’s conjuring music out of thin air, using nothing but his mouth. The tune, however, does not sound anything like the whistle you’ve heard before. Step closer, and you’ll find the genial old man playing folk songs, old classics and popular tunes on an instrument of his own making — the jeebh banshi (tongue whistle).
Standing near Panna’s Sweet Shop at Behala Bazar, Sheikh captivates passers-by with both his musical flair and his stamina. At an age when most would struggle to stand for long, he plays continuously for hours, his breath steady and his melody unwavering.
Sheikh fashioned his own version of the banshi using tin, which later evolved into his ‘jeebh banshi’
Sheikh has been perfecting the jeebh banshi for over five decades now. It all began when he was still a schoolboy. Sheikh was swept off his feet when he saw a popular artiste from Bombay playing something similar. Though Sheikh cannot recall the musician’s name now, he remembers how he understood in that moment that music was his true calling. From then on, there was no stopping and no looking back.
Sheikh fashioned his own version of the banshi using tin, which later evolved into his jeebh banshi. He remained glued to the radio and practised for hours. However, his parents were far from pleased. He was scolded, beaten and even had his right palm burnt when he refused to attend classes. But, nothing could subdue his passion.
Music is his life and livelihood. Sheikh makes a modest living playing the jeebh banshi
Today, music is his life and livelihood. Sheikh earns a modest Rs 400 everyday by playing the jeebh banshi, but he never demands money. He simply sets up on the pavements of Behala, Garia, Jadavpur, Sonarpur and different localities of the South 24 Parganas, letting his music do the talking. Those moved by his tunes, offer what they wish, out of pure appreciation. “I have never asked people for anything. I have never had any other profession. It is the divine will that I can survive by just doing this,” said Sheikh.
At home in Sarisha village, Sheikh lives with his wife. His children live elsewhere. His granddaughter, Pashmina, has been a staunch supporter over the years. When event organisers reach out, she connects him to opportunities. Over the years, Sheikh has performed at various events and schools. He has even been on the radio, though he can no longer recall the name of the station or the programme.
This Puja, he performed for two days at a temple near Behala’s Shakherbazar. “They treated me very well,” he said, smiling. His weathered face lit up as he caressed the edges of his jeebh banshi. For Sheikh, the music never stops — it’s his breath, his prayer, his life.
