LEGENDARY singer Begum Akhtar was hailed as the queen of ghazals, leaving behind a lasting legacy that continues to resonate with music lovers worldwide.
The late classical star elevated genres such as ghazal, thumri, and dadra while also breaking new ground in popular music. Her influence extended to inspiring great artists like Lata Mangeshkar, Mehdi Hasan, and Jagjit Singh. Born on October 7, 1914, she transformed a challenging childhood into a remarkable career that lasted until her passing at 60 on October 30, 1974.
Timeless songs such as Deewana Banana Hai To, Aye Mohabbat Tere Anjaam Pe Rona Aaya, Humri Atariya Pe Aao Sanwariya, and Wo Jo Hum Mein Tum Mein Qarar Tha cemented her status as an all-time great.
To mark her birth and the 50th anniversary of her death, Eastern Eye reveals some fascinating facts about the music maestro’s life.
Past pain: Born Akhtari Bai Faizabadi in 1914, she was the daughter of lawyer Asghar Hussain and his second wife, Mushtari Bai. Her father abandoned the family shortly after her birth. Akhtar endured a difficult childhood, including the loss of her twin sister, which had a profound impact on her. This personal pain would later be channeled into her music, where themes of love, loss, and longing became prominent.
Mother: Her mother, Mushtari Bai, was a courtesan and an acclaimed classical singer, who played a pivotal role in shaping Akhtar’s early musical journey, introducing her to some of the finest teachers of the time.
Prodigy: Akhtar displayed exceptional talent from a young age. She trained under classical masters, including Ustad Imdad Khan, Mohammad Khan, and Abdul Waheed Khan.
Debut: She gave her first public performance at the age of 15, earning high praise from the renowned poet Sarojini Naidu. This performance launched her career in classical music.
Pioneer: In 1935, at the age of 21, Akhtar became one of the first female artists to record a full-length album. Her early recordings were hugely successful, making her a household name and inspiring others to follow suit.
Revolutionary: Akhtar played a crucial role in transforming the ghazal from a poetic recitation to a popular musical genre. She blended classical Indian elements with rich poetry, revolutionising the genre.
Acting: Akhtar trained in acting with legendary Bollywood star Prithviraj Kapoor, who ran the successful Prithvi Theatre Company. This training enhanced her stage presence and contributed to her captivating performances.
Movies: Before focusing exclusively on music, Akhtar appeared in several Bollywood films. Her most notable role was in Mehboob Khan’s hit drama Roti (1942), where she was credited as Akhtaribai Fyzabadi and also sang several songs. Later, she appeared in Satyajit Ray’s acclaimed film Jalsaghar (1958), portraying the character of singer Durga Bai.
Comeback: In 1945, she married Lucknow-based barrister Ishtiaq Ahmed Abbasi, who forbade her from singing. This forced her to take a five-year break from music despite high demand for her performances. The hiatus led to emotional distress, and she eventually returned to music in 1949, recording songs that moved her to tears. After that, she never took another break.
Akhtar in the film RotiReverence: Known as the ‘queen of ghazals,’ she was also described as the ‘voice of pain’ for the emotional depth she brought to her music.
Fragrance: Akhtar was known to have a love for natural perfumes and maintained a large collection. She believed that fragrances enhanced the ambiance and mood during her performances.
Influence: Her singing style had a lasting impact on commercial Hindi cinema, with composers and singers like Lata Mangeshkar crediting her as a major influence.
Philanthropy: Akhtar was deeply involved in charity, performing at numerous concerts to raise money for worthy causes. Helping the less fortunate was one of her passions.
Passions: In her spare time, Akhtar enjoyed painting landscapes and portraits, though she never pursued it professionally. She was also an avid reader and had a deep love for Urdu poetry, which greatly enriched her emotionally charged and soulful performances.
Discipline: Despite her success, Akhtar maintained a strict regimen, including rigorous practice and specific dietary habits, to preserve the clarity and resonance of her voice.
Famous fans: Her influence extended to many music legends, including Lata Mangeshkar, Shubha Mudgal, Pankaj Udhas, Mehdi Hasan, Jagjit Singh, Farida Khanum, Parveen Sultana, Talat Mahmood, Rekha Bhardwaj, and Pandit Jasraj. Top artists attended her concerts as admirers, eager to learn from her mastery of the stage.
Awards: Her contributions were recognised with several honours, including the Padma Shri in 1968 and a posthumous Padma Bhushan in 1975.
Missing: Many believe that Akhtar’s finest masterpieces were never recorded, as she was at her best during live performances. Known for her improvisational skills, she delivered otherworldly renditions on stage that could not be replicated in a studio setting.
End: Her final concert took place in Ahmedabad in 1974. Despite suddenly falling ill during the performance, Akhtar completed the show before being rushed to the hospital. Sadly, she passed away just a few days later.
Legacy: Akhtar’s fame continued to grow posthumously, with numerous compilation albums released globally. Her recordings remain popular today, with millions of streams on platforms like Spotify and YouTube. On October 7, 2017, Google commemorated her 103rd birth anniversary with a dedicated doodle.
Books: Several books have been written about her life, including Begum Akhtar: The Story of My Ammi by Shanti Hiranand, In Memory of Begum Akhtar by Shahid Ali Agha, and Begum Akhtar: The Queen of Ghazal by Sutapa Mukherjee.
The actor’s evolving style from youth to maturity getty images
Aamir Khan embracing vintage looks with classic charmgetty images
Bold and dramatic changes defining Aamir Khan’s careergetty images
From rugged to refined Aamir Khan’s versatile appearancesgetty images
Memorable film moments showcasing Aamir Khan’s unique stylegetty images
Aamir Khan’s blend of classic and contemporary fashiongetty images
Aamir Khan’s dedication to authentic character portrayals getty images
Cinematic milestones reflected in Aamir Khan’s on-screen imagegetty images
A seated Jain enlightened teacherAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Ganesha from JavaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
A Chinese silk painting depicting the BuddhaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
ArdhanarishvaraAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Head of a grimacing yakshaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
NagaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
The Bimaran casketAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
Them performing liveNajmuddin Saifuddin Qawwal Group
The cast of Marriage Material in key moments from the play, including Avita Jay, Kiran Landa, Omar Malik, Irfan Shamji and Anoushka Deshmukh
Sathnam Sanghera’s 'Marriage Material' adapted into bold new play on conformity
The play Marriage Material at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre is Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name, which first came out in 2013.
She is lucky to have Iqbal Khan direct Marriage Material. The play, a co-production with the Birmingham Rep, is set in the late 1960s. Mr and Mrs Bains (played by Jaz Singh Deol and Avita Jay) run a corner shop in Wolverhampton. Their younger daughter, Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh), is 16, her sister Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) is just a bit older.
They have a neighbour, Patwant Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), who, as we shall soon see, is not a very pleasant man. In fact, he comes across just as racist as Enoch Powell, who represented Wolverhampton South West for the Tories from 1950 to 1974.
It will be recalled this was a time when Sikhs working on the buses were told they couldn’t wear a turban. That was a hard-fought battle that had to be won.
The Bains, meanwhile, simply want to get their girls married off.
Nothing new here, I thought.
What makes the tale different is that the plot twists and turns down the generations. Mr Dhanda, who has the makings of a paedophile, makes a pitch for one of the girls when Mr Bains dies early in the play. “A life with no man in the house is no life,” he informs the newly widowed Mrs Bains.
Mr Dhanda has a wife but she has returned to India so he considers himself to be a free man.
Surinder’s English teacher from school, Miss Flanagan (Celeste Dodwell), who is also head of the fifth form, tells Mrs Bains about her daughter: “I don’t want to embarrass you, but she is bright. Ridiculously bright.”
She adds: “Mrs Bains, I think it would be a pity if Surinder didn’t stay on at school.” The initial response from Mrs Bains is not encouraging: “Too much education makes people’s brains get mixed up, they don’t sleep at night…”
But she is finally persuaded that Surinder should be allowed to stay on for a while longer before being married off.
Mr Bains was very old school. When Surinder confides she would one day like to be “a somebody”, he is amused that “my daughter wants to be a somebody”.
“Like you,” she tells her father.
Mr Bains consoles his daughter: “We will find a somebody for you to marry.”
At the point of a possible marriage, however, Surinder is sweet-talked by chocolate salesman Jim Wilson (Tommy Belshaw) into running away with him. They share a love of literature, and he calls her “Sue Bains”. But the relationship does not end well.
Once she has left, Surinder is written off as “dead” by her family. The story that is circulated is that she was only 16 when she was killed in a car crash. That’s better than to let on that she ran off with a white man.
By the time she is reconciled with her sister towards the end of the play, a great deal has changed. Kamaljit married Tanvir Banga (Omar Malik), a young man who helped out in the Bains’ corner shop. When the two sisters meet again, Tanvir has also died. But he and Kamaljit had a son, Arjan Banga (Jaz Singh Deol doubles up for this role after the death of Mr Bains). He has come home after his father’s death to help his mother who is still running the family corner shop.
Meanwhile, Mr Dhanda’s business has prospered. He now has a son, Ranjit Dhanda (the role is taken by Omar Malik after Tanvir’s death), and he is nearly as unpleasant as his father.
Arjan has an English fiancée, Claire (Celeste Dodwell). In London, Arjan worked as a creative director. But after deciding to stay in Wolverhampton to help his mother, he decides he cannot marry Claire because she is white. In other words, Asians are not free of racism, either. Happily, at the end, the couple are reconciled.
As for Surinder, she parted company with Jim Wilson after realising he was all talk, depended on her for money and had failed to earn a penny from his literary pretensions. She had prospered, though, as a hotel owner and had been transformed in time into a well-groomed businesswoman. After being tracked down by Arjan, she decides to return to her roots in Wolverhampton and help Kamaljit run the family corner shop. Perhaps 50 years had passed during the passage of the play.
Being subjected to racism turned some Asians into racists themselves. The word goreh (white person) is repeatedly spat out with venom. Maybe it is worth remembering the play’s audience isn’t exclusively Asian – white folk are watching as well. And maybe some of the toilet humour ridiculing white people, which always makes me cringe, could be cut out.
In Sanghera’s novel, there is a quote from Enoch Powell’s speech in November 1968: “The West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact, he is a west Indian or an Asian still... he will by the very nature of things have lost one country without gaining another, lost one nationality without acquiring a new one. Time is running out against us and them. With the lapse of a generation or so we shall at last have succeeded – to the benefit of nobody – in reproducing ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ the haunting tragedy of the US.”
In Marriage Material, where the acting is marvellous (apart from Mr Dhanda’s Indian mannerisms and accent being overdone) we do travel across a couple of generations.
There is a scene when Tanvir rejects Mr Dhanda’s vision of creating a little Punjab in Wolverhampton.
Mr Dhanda wants to take over the Bains’ corner shop and is putting pressure on Tanvir to sign the papers. He says: “In this country, money is the path to freedom.”
“Sign, please,” he instructs Tanvir. “We must make sure our children learn to behave nicely, according to our rules.”
He insists: “We maintain our identity so we can be ourselves.”
Tanvir disagrees: “We can be us here. With the goreh.”
Dhanda warns him: “Then we will be inviting chaos.”
Tanvir’s comment is telling: “You sound like Enoch.”
Kamaljit, who is expecting a baby with her husband Tanvir, says: “I would like my child to grow up knowing the history of the Gurus and to read the Granth Sahib. And to love their culture.”
Tanvir tells his wife: “I would like my child to go to the finest schools, to cheer for England in the World Cup and eat Yorkshire pudding on a Sunday.”
Kamaljit sets out a dream that has perhaps come to pass with many third and fourth generation British Asians: “Maybe our child can do both.” Much, much later, in a throwback to the past, we learn of Surinder’s O-level results: “Biology A, Chemistry A, English Language A, English Literature A, French A, History B, Latin A, Mathematics A, Physics A…”
Kamaljit tells her younger sister: “Never mind about the B.”
And that is quintessentially Asian. Their acting is outstanding.
Marriage Material is at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at the Birmingham Rep from June 25-July 5