Ramen Barua in front of his house. Pictures by S.H. Patgiri

 

The old clock chimes away and musician Ramen Barua, clad in a spotless white kurta, stretches his legs and makes himself comfortable on the sofa. As he sits in the sparsely-furnished living room of his grand two-storeyed bungalow off Latasil field in Guwahati, he seems to get entwined in the ambience of the archaic building.

The grey streak in his hair tells tales of illustrious days gone by. With a faraway in his eyes, Barua recalls how he performed at his first public function at Latasil field when he was a child. “I first sang at a Sandhiya Sanmilani when I was in class I. It was a memorable event of my life as I got a silver medal for it,” he reminisces.

“The radio station was close to our house and I used to sing regularly in the Akonir Mel” programme, he adds. In the evenings, the whole family of nine brothers and four sisters sat together and sang songs. His two illustrious brothers — Brajen and Nip Barua — encouraged him to sing at public functions.

Ramen Barua was born on June 6, 1939 at this sprawling bungalow. His father Chandranath Barua was the sub-divisional officer of PWD. His mother Joonprabha Barua used to hum traditional folk songs while doing her household chores in the kitchen. “I got the inspiration for the song Ei Pran Gopal... for the film Mukuta from my mother,” says Barua.

The prolific music director had completed 25 years of film music direction in 1993. Starting as a child singer in All-India Radio (AIR) in 1949, he later graduated to a regular singer and an approved composer for the general programmes of AIR in 1955. He has also rendered his voice as a playback singer in the films Smitir Paras, Mak Aru Maram, Lakhimi, Amar Ghar and Lachit Barphukan.

However, it was for setting tune to the immensely popular songs of the film Dr Bezbaruah, that Barua is best remembered. “It was my first independent venture as a music director. No Assamese film music record could surpass Dr Bezbaruah’s record and HMV is still taking out its reproductions,” says Barua, beaming with pride.

The songs of Dr Bezbaruah wowed the Assamese tinsel world and set the trend for filmi songs. “The film was directed by Brajenda and he was making it on a shoestring budget. I never imagined that the film would be such a hit because of its songs,” says Barua.

There was no looking back after that. He directed the music of 26 Assamese films, two Bengali films and four documentaries. Barua also set tunes to a number of modern lyrics, which have been acclaimed in Assam as well as outside the state. “My creative tunes, which are a suitable blend of folk, traditional and Indian classical music are widely appreciated,” says Barua.

However, he had no formal training in music. “I consulted Brajenda and noted singers like Ananda Ram Das, Biren Phukan and Purushottam Das. I also learnt a lot by working with musicians in Calcutta like Manabendra Mukherji and Haimanti Shukla,” says Barua. “I learnt the grammar of music, the notations and the various technicalities by reading different books,” he adds.

An amiable man, Barua has been actively involved with cultural activities in his locality. He was the founder-member of New Art Players, a socio-cultural organisation. Besides providing music for all the stage dramas and dance dramas of New Art Players, Barua conducted music for the Assamese version of Rabindranath Tagore’s play Chandalika and dance drama Tasher Desh. He also arranged and conducted the recording of a few songs of Jyotiprasad Agarwalla, which is the first-ever HMV disc of Jyotiprasad’s songs in Assam.

He has also been the member of the audition board of AIR, Guwahati and Jyoti Chitraban Film Society studio. “I have also arranged music for the recording of audio cassettes by renowned lyricists like Navakanta Barua, Nirmal Prabha Bordoloi and Eli Ahmed,” says Barua.

He had set tunes to the lyrics of noted lyricist Keshab Mahanta, who also happens to be his father-in-law. “I share a special bond with my father-in-law. We usually went to the office of New Art Players with a harmonium whenever we had to compose a song. The quiet ambience during the day provided the ideal ambience for our creative pursuits. Sometimes, we even composed up to seven songs a day,” he says.

He fondly recalls his visit to the US in 1998 on an invitation from the NRIs. “I was pleasantly surprised to notice that the Assamese residents there still crave for Assamese music. I was even requested to hum tunes from the film Toramai, Mukuta and other Assamese films. I had carried a few cassettes and many in the audience wanted it,” he says.

The so-called “professionalism” among the musicians these days, feels Barua, is nothing but “crass commercialisation. “Asking for money does not make one a professional. When we did public performances, we did not ask for money. I always worked in a familial group. I don’t want to sell myself for money,” he says.

The songs, too, he feels, have less of a repeat value. “Nowadays, songs are similar with less variation. We tend it forget them as soon as we come out of the cinema hall. Even the music videos are filled mostly with technical gizmos and less originality,” he says.

The musician is, however, hopeful. “Maybe it is a passing phase and a new wave will come after this. There is nothing wrong with blending tunes, but we should try to retain the creativity,” says Barua. There was a time when he and his brother Brajenda experimented with recording on a second-hand tape-recorder at an ordinary room in their house. Barua says, “We had the courage to be innovative within our limited resources.”

In an introspective mood, Barua says with a resigned air, “But then, I am not today’s man. My conscience does not allow me to do many things. I should be able to look into the other person’s eyes.” The musician adds, “Always keep your roads open. You never know who will you need someday.”