WHETHER it is singing blockbuster Bollywood songs, composing, releasing awesome albums, or delivering mesmerising live ghazal and Sufi performances, Kavita Seth has done most things in music marvellously well.
Instead of basking in the glory of her many impressive achievements, the music talent continues to offer new listening experiences and has done that with her recently released album Dayaar-e-Rooh. The nine track masterpiece, recorded completely live, showcases her beautiful singing and composing abilities. The songs delving into themes of spirituality and connection to the divine have messages of love, compassion, and hope.
Eastern Eye caught up with the multi-talented maestro to discuss her new album, music, inspirations, and ability to generate emotion.
You have achieved so much, yet keep delivering great music, what keeps that motivation and passion alive?
It doesn’t matter how much you achieve in life, the hunger to better oneself is the only way forward. This zeal is my motivation. There are moments I am happy with my work and do notice a scope for improvement at times too. The passion and fire within keep this journey interesting and extremely fulfilling.
Tell us about your new album?
I release one song from my recent album every week. The album is called Dayaar-e-Rooh, which means the world of the souls. I have explored how poets give life to songs, ghazals and nazms, which is reflected in the songs. Sant Kabir’s dohe (couplets) composed by Kumar Gandharva also find a place in the album. It holds a very special place in my heart. On the whole, I feel like this album is a bouquet of flowers.
What was the thought process behind recording it live with musicians?
I wanted to give the album a certain touch that could only be experienced through live music. I didn’t want it to sound like a recorded piece. When we sing live, sometimes I go into a trance and the musicians also extend certain pieces and don’t stick to the set pattern. I wanted to make sure my listeners felt like they were listening to a concert. I wanted to retain a free-flowing quality in the songs. Before working on this album, we had recorded ghazals for Mira Nair’s A Suitable Boy in the same way. The idea was to keep it real and natural.
Which of your songs is closest to your heart?
A mother can never really pick favourites, isn’t it? Also, as an artist, I find it very difficult to choose one. The nine songs I have chosen as part of Dayaar-e-Rooh, including nazms, ghazals and songs, are all beautiful in their own right. They have their own beauty. Main jiska zikr karti hoon, woh meri fikr karta hai and Uski awaaz aise aati hai are some songs which I personally love. However, an artist creates for people, and I believe that good music always finds its listeners.
How much do great lyrics help you as a singer?
I am an old-school composer. I read the lyrics first and then if they inspire me, the tune automatically flows in. In this album there is a nazm by Shamim Zehra ji who used to share her poetry during Covid lockdown. Her words struck a chord with me, and I composed the tune without much ado. The lyrics inspire me to compose the tunes.
Who are you hoping connects with these songs?
I wanted to create an album with musicians who are playing live, and it’s recorded live. I’m hoping people who enjoy listening to good poetry set to tunes, will like it. A good song finds its audience. I never expected Rangi Sari to become so popular, but it did. I believe it’s destiny. I sing my songs and then leave it to my audience.
Which song on the album challenged you most as a singer?
They were my own compositions, which is why it wasn’t difficult. Sunta Hai Gurugyani, which is Kumar Gandharv ji’s composition, was challenging because it’s a cover version. The comparisons are inevitable. But I didn’t let that affect me.
How do you generate so much feeling in your voice?
It’s god’s gift. His grace. I understand the lyrics and then sing. I try to convey the thoughts and feelings of the poet or lyricist. That’s always been my goal.
Do you have any unfulfilled musical ambitions?
My journey has just started. I want to achieve so much more, and the sky is the limit. My desire and dream are to perform in some of the best concert halls in the world. The idea is to also heal people with my music. I want to sing songs which have a soul. I wish to take my music to different corners of the world, perform music live and connect with people from across the globe.
A lot of people enjoy listening to your beautiful voice, but what music do you like listening to?
I listen to all kinds of music. Earlier I used to only listen to classical renditions, ghazals or qawwalis. I still love those genres.
Ragas and instruments also have a special place in my heart. Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Abida Parveen, Jagjit Singh, Madan Mohan are some of the artists I love.
I also listen to world music. Music that touches your soul is what I like the most.
Today what inspires you as an artist?
My passion to do good work inspires me. It takes me forward in my journey to create better. It is a lifelong process.
If you could master something new in music, what would it be?
GenZ listens to rap and that’s something I can’t sing. I would like to try singing that. I am always open to exploring, learning, and enjoying music.
Why should we pick up the new album?
It’s a collection of poetry set to tune. The lyrics are meaningful, and the listening experience is like that of a live concert. I hope people will like it, as I have done my best.
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