Gaud Sarang brings to mind the sweltering hot summer afternoons of Sangli. No sooner than we had settled into our siesta–more a heat induced stupor, really–the Neighbor Auntie would start her riyaz. After a langorous ‘Kajraare naina’ she would launch into endless iterations of ‘Pala na laagi mori akhiyan’. And so, unwittingly, we were part of this every day tragi-comic conspiracy that brought the import of this bandish to bear down upon us. It was years later, when I first heard Kishori-tai unfold this bandish–just the mukhada–in a hundred different variations, that the beauty of this Raga dawned upon me. Wah! I doubt that there is a musician in my generation–regardless of gharana and guru–that hasn’t been influenced by her immense originality.
Bandish/ Gaud Sarang/ Teental:
pal na laagi mori akhiyan, aali mora piyu bin jiya ghabrae, chain nahin have, ghadi pal chhin din raina
veer pathhikvaa, le jaa sandesvaa, piyaasan kahiye hamari bithhaa tumare daras ko biraha
पल न लागी मोरी अखियां, आली बिन पियु मोरा जिया घबरावे, चैन नहीं आवे, घडी पल छिन दिन रैन
वीर पथकवा, ले जा संदेसवा, पियासन कहिये हमरी बिथा तुमरे दरस को बिरहा
(I have not a moment’s rest, with my beloved being so far away. O Traveler, would you give him my message? Would you tell him how I pine for him?)
Copyright Photo/Audio/Video: Srivani Jade, 2018.
Gaud Sarang (a misnomer, not a Sarang prakar) has a small but charming ambit. I felt a musical synesthesia of sorts for this Raga recently during a short walk down the slots of Antelope Canyon–a cool respite from the hot desert outside. Hope you find this perfect for an afternoon tete-a-tete too!