Picture by S.H. Patgiri

Pulak banerjee

At six feet, he stands tall. So does he as a singer of modern Assamese songs. With his disarming smile and charming manner, the bespectacled Pulak Banerjee exudes a comfortable air. Music, he says, takes him closest to divinity and accords him peace and tranquillity. It is an invigorating experience which exalts his spirits.

As mellifluous strains of Manna Dey’s Bengali song, Jodi kagoje lekho naam, kagaz chire jabe....., wafts out of a door left ajar, Banerjee says, “Nowadays, its more of bajna-gaan rather than gaan-bajna. The element of melody is missing. Instruments have taken centrestage. People seem to have forgotten that sound is a science and 15-20 electric instruments with 10 microphones only sound like chaos.”

The youngest in the family, Banerjee was born and brought up in a culturally-rich atmosphere. He was initiated into music by his eldest sister Dipti Chakravarty, who was closely associated with the Indian People’s Theatre Association (IPTA). “Every evening we were made to sit with the harmonium while our sister sang. I was closely associated with Assamese culture and later I chose to sing in Assamese,” he says.

Banerjee grew up listening to Mohd Rafi, Lata Mangeshkar, Bhupen Hazarika and Manna Dey. Though he never had any formal training in classical music, he learnt the nuances of music from his neighbour Hiralal Banerjee of All-India Radio, Guwahati.

In school, he was associated with noted singer Dilip Sarma and participated in inter-school meets. “I don’t believe that theoretical lessons can produce a true artiste and a performer. Though its important to have formal lessons, ultimately everything depends on the individual’s forte and perseverance,” he says.

He gave his first public performance at the age of seven at an institution called Geetar Bitan. “I participated in their annual competition and got the first prize”. But it was only in college that he came in contact with doyens of Assamese music like Birendranath Datta and Nirmal Prabha Bardoloi. Gradually, Banerjee became a household name.

Suwaroni, his first solo album in two volumes, remains an all-time hit. “Many music lovers keep two copies — one to preserve and the other to listen to,” he says. He has 30 to 35 other albums to his credit, including Shilpi, Boyoti Noi, Kothare Geetare, Bondi Pokhilar Gaan and Pathor Simona.

He did playback singing for 20 Assamese films, including Mon, Konikar Ramdhenu, Duranir Rang and Srimati Mahimamoyee. The lyrics for most of his songs have been written by Nirmal Prabha Bardoloi, Hiren Bhattacharya and Keshab Mahanta.

The 51-year-old singer has now taken voluntary retirement from his job at the UCO Bank. “I had wanted to take up music as a whole-time career, but the comfort of a secure job lured me. The condition of artistes was deplorable at that time as we were not very professional. So I took up the job at the bank.”

“My office colleagues cooperated and helped me in my choice of postings where I could pursue my first love, music.” However, he had to gradually reduce his programmes and playback singing because of official engagements.

He was transferred to Calcutta for four-and-a-half years where he sang for a Bengali film Ajob Ganyer Ajob Katha directed by Tapan Sinha. But because of the ill-health of his wife, who died thereafter, music took a back seat.

On his return from Calcutta, music connoisseurs here cautioned him about the drastic change in the music scenario. “There is a mad rush for entry of western culture and this cultural pollution has even crept into Bihu songs,” they warned.

He, however, does not blame the audience for the deteriorating standard in music. “We do not give them a choice. Even today, teenagers come and tell me that they do not get to hear the real songs of the soil these days,” says Banerjee. He regrets that there is limited scope and opportunity for singers in the region. “One has to go out of the region to earn nationwide name and fame. Here, the media is also not very conscious. People outside don’t know what’s happening here though we get to know what’s happening in the rest of India, especially in the metros”, he claims.

According to Banerjee, music has the power to heal the wounds of society. Take for instance Sugandhi Pokhila, an album based on a collection of poems by Hiren Bhattacharyya and produced by surrendered militants. “One of them told me that while they were on training in a hostile terrain, they had always kept my cassette Suwaroni and Hiruda’s book of poems. He always felt that he would make a cassette of that book and make me sing the songs,” he says.

Banerjee was honoured with the Assam government’s best playback singer of the year award for 1999. He has represented Assam at the international trade fair in Delhi. He performed in the US on an invitation by the Assamese Association of America, 2000. He also directed music for TV serials like Ritu Aye Ritu Jaye, Bijoya and a television documentary on Lakshminath Bezbaruah.

Banerjee manages to create an instant rapport with the audience. Recently, he went to perform in Jorhat where 14 artistes sang one song each. “I was the last singer and I was supposed to end the show with a concluding song. But as I tried to come down from the podium, the audience coaxed me to go back and I had to continue for another hour,” he says.

At a phone-in programme with All-India Radio, Jorhat, he sang continuously from 10.30 pm to 2.45 am as requests poured in one after another. “There were requests for songs which had even faded from my memory. But it was heartening to know that people remember these songs even today,” he says with a smile.

According to Banerjee, today’s music is more of a “dhamaka” to keep the audience spellbound and glued to their chairs as people do not have the patience to go deep into the lyrics and reflect seriously. “Some of the old songs retain their flavour and are evergreen. One song which has left no stage untouched is my Moi aji shangi bihin, udashin klanta pothik, ei bishaal prithivit, o suwaroni nidibi amoni...,” says Banerjee.

He is happy that people still hum these songs. “A rich song is everlasting but the revenue earned is delayed. Today’s songs are monotonous and people easily forget them as it provides momentary pleasure,” he adds.

Banerjee calls himself a modern singer with a semi-classical touch — which has a blend of folk and western classical.

Any plans to write a memoir? “I don’t think the time has come yet. I can do it maybe sometime later,” he says, humming his audience’s all-time favourite, Suwarani jodi nai nai jodi nai nai, ase mathun sai.....