An inter-college rock competition at Nazrul Mancha. (Above) Fossils

?Conversion? is a bad word in some parts of India today. So called ?converters? are being targeted by armies or senas who seem to be getting less saner by the day. Their softest targets are the folk who have deep faith in the long-haired lover of all mankind who started touching lives some 2,000 years ago and hasn?t stopped since. I too am one of them, who follow the lover who said, ?Never mind, turn the other cheek?. So, I know it?s a bit of a risk, but I?m going to try and be a ?converter? myself and get all you non-believers to come on board. No worries, don?t turn the page! Like you, I too strongly believe that religion and faith are personal byapaars, not to be discussed with the wife, let alone with you through a newspaper column. I?m only talking about ?converting? you, musically.

All prospective converts must study the Conversion Table and other tables on this page, pick up a couple of albums, listen to them with an open mind and, if converted, spread the word. You must target non-believers, particularly those who think that Chandrabindoo is only the last letter of the Bengali alphabet and Bhoomi is the word that is raked up every five years, pre-election time in UP.

Last week, I promised that I would tell you more about ?a conscience-keeping generation of singers and writers who have their fingers firmly on the pulse? of their fans ? and the number is growing by the day! It?s time to keep that promise and attempt ? quite blatantly ? to increase the number that believes in them. So, if you love music and believe that it is the food of love, chew on this.

It goes back to the late sixties and early seventies when The Beatles and Vietnam were ?rocking? the world. Nearer home, hippies and Naxals were going ?great guns?. Post all this, was lurking an informed and concerned middle-class Bengali who turned to Sunil Ganguly and Sakti Chattopadhyay for literary solace, to Ray, Ghatak and Mrinal Sen for life-mirrors on the screen, to Ajitesh and Nandikar for his emotional catharsis on stage and for his voice in music to?.ah, it was here that he ran into a dead-end.

There was no one to turn to. Sure he appreciated Nazrulgeeti and cherished Rabindrasangeet and the rich tradition of adhunik gaan; they were lyrical in form and rich in content. They had his ear; but they were not his voice. There was something missing; something more that he wanted to express. Country, jazz, rock ?n? roll, the Rolling Stones and the experiments of Salil Chowdhury had touched him; he was now more global in his thinking, more universal in his music.

The first middle-class, informed, caring Bengali, who found this voice was Gautam Chattopadhyay. He named his band Mohiner Ghoraguli, the title of a surrealistic Jibanananda Das poem. In 1970, their first song was released by HMV ? it was called Aaw Ou Baw and told the story of a UFO. Unfortunately, Gautam was some 20 years before his time, and was branded ?experimental? and even ?weird?. He was once ?thrown out? of a musical soiree for not pertaining to norms and being ?anti-cultural?.

Sadly, Gautam isn?t around to hear the 500-plus Bangla bands and scores of solo singers singing their song, but there?s no getting away from it: today, some 30 years on, his spirit is not just the inspiration ? it is the norm! As Parash Pathar points out in their latest album, Dekha, this isn?t ?alternative? music any more, it?s ?mainstream? all the way.

I?m convinced that this has happened because most of today?s music makers in Bengal are ordinary people who have lived ordinary lives in middle-class paras, doing ordinary things like flying kites and playing cricket on the streets, sipping ordinary cups of tea in college canteens, rubbing shoulders with even less ordinary people in crowded buses. They are educated, intelligent and passionate; and, perhaps, what?s most important ? they believe in themselves. Which is why super successes like Srikanta Acharya and Shilajit gave up their sales jobs in North Bengal; Bhoomi?s Soumitra called it quits from his family business; and the new lyric prince from Barasat, Kingshuk Chattopadhyay, turned his back on a promising academic career ? all to get into their music careers fulltime. These are guys who could ? and still have ? other career options.

My ?Bangali Kenny Rogers?, Indranil Sen, was an engineer on the ground with Indian Airlines, while Fossils? lead singer Rupam is a teacher at Taki Govt. Boys? School; Sidhu, Cactus ? lead vocalist, is a qualified doctor, while Bubla of Kalpurush has an MBA degree; Chandrabindoo?s champs are going great guns off-stage too ? Upal is a super cartoonist and computer geek, Chandril is a journalist whose pen speaks volumes, Anindya is a TV host-cum-production boss and keyboardist Dron is 107.8 Power FM ?s studio techie; Shamik, Agantuk?s lead singer, now going solo, is 106.2 Aamar FM ?s programming executive.

In fact, it is this radio station that is changing their lives forever, by taking their music into sleepy little towns and far-flung villages. It?s time to let them into your drawing rooms too ? some of their stuff is cosy enough for even the bedroom! In the past, my converts have had two things in common ? they almost never listened to Bangla music, but were music freaks all the same. They include: Anirban Nag, a chartered accountant friend of mine who swore by Queen and Clapton ? he now listens to Bangla bands non-stop in his car; my brother, Andy ? he now listens to Anjan Dutt as he sips a beer at his home in Perth every Sunday; a schoolteacher of mine, Ronnie Fernandes ? he listens to many a Bangla song with a calypso beat on the beaches of Goa, where he leads a relaxed retired life.

All they are saying now is Tomakey Chai, but Tomar Dekha Nai re. So, I strongly suggest that you too let the roddur sink in your barandah, you will definitely hear them strumming their Purono Guitar and inviting you with: bondhu tomay ey gaan shonabo bikel-byalay!

Conversion Table

If you like... go for:—

*Loud Rock: Baajey Chheley, album by Dhumketu
*A Latino beat: Bondhu Shuntey Pachchho, album by Orient Express
*An Eagles sound, R&B: Dekha, album by Parash Pathar
*Techno, bhangra, folk, slow rock: Aey Jaa, album by Agantuk
*Rustic sounds, like calypso, bhatiali, baul: Pagol Rasiya, album by Swagato

If you like subjects that ‘matter’:—

• Nachiketa’s Daktaar: a strong statement against medical malpractice
• Bhoomi’s Chal Mini: a young mother’s story of trust and betrayal who gets lured away for a ‘better life’ to the tea gardens; narrated before by the legendary Hemango Biswas and Bhupen Hazarika
• Anjan Dutt’s Chheleyta: about streetchildren who bathe sharing the same soap - who knows what they are, Hindus, Muslims... – all they know is poverty
• Lopamudra’s Jakhan Aamar Boyesh Chheelo Paanch: It’s about one of the million little girls in our country who give childhood a miss as they jump straight from infancy into adulthood
• Parash Pathar’s High Society: About a poor boy who only has to look over the wall to see a different world

If you like storylines & biographies

• Lopamudra’s Sabarmati Express – a spine-chilling account of ‘Godhra’, brilliantly told
• Kabir Suman’s Begum Rukiya – the incredible Muslim woman after whom Sakhawat School is named
• Om’s Kandahar – on the Indian Airlines’ flight from Kathmandu that was hijacked to Afghanistan
• Dhumketu’s East Bengal – the frenzy of supporting India’s best football team
• Nachiketa’s Tumi Aashbey Boley – a classic love ballad sung by Calcutta’s most ‘classic character’, the Roadside Romeo

If you like ‘sounds familiar’ songs

• Orient Express’ Brishti Bheja Raatey – a bit like May the Good Lord Bless & Keep You.
• Rupankar’s Bhokatta – a bit like and better than Bum-Bum-Bum Bumbai Meri Hai.
• Shahar’s Jawkhon – a bit like, but better than, an old Asha Bhonsle song, Logo Naa Maaro Isey