You hear her powerful voice reverberate across the lawns and watch her sway to the verses of famous Sufis as if in a trance, the ajrak draped around her neck, her dishevelled hair covering her face, oblivious to the rapt audience before her. As the inimitable Abida Parveen performs, not rising to any of the numerous baits thrown her way by the compere renowned for his caustic comments, and replying almost in monosyllables to all his queries, you are convinced that the Sufi singer has a no-nonsense attitude. But interviewing her comes as a pleasant surprise, and you discover that the simple, loving soul has dimensions to her personality you wouldn’t expect.
At her Karachi residence, Abida Parveen is attired in a smart jacket, her hair neatly in place and her feet ensconced in snug courts. I ask her about her stage persona and she says: “I’ve liked that look since childhood, it’s not something I’ve acquired over time. Make-up artistes insist that I put some greasepaint on for the camera, but I always fight them off and now they have gotten accustomed to the fact that I will not oblige them.”
Over the years, Parveen has developed the reputation of being quite elusive. To add weight to this general view is the fact that in spite of dominating the music scene for decades, she hardly gives interviews. She dismisses all such impressions: “I normally arrive the day of the show and don’t like to give any interviews prior to a performance. The reason is that interviews require me to speak anywhere for between an hour and more, and while singing doesn’t tax my voice, talking does.”
At this point during the conversation, she gets up to close the door behind her in order to shut off the animated discussion taking place in the adjacent room. “I feel that I perform for a purpose, and my voice is public property, so I don’t like to take risks with it. It’s like an abstinence of sorts, and I limit my talking to a minimum on the day I have to sing. I do no other work that day, other than writing, and concentrate only on what I am going to present that evening. I don’t even watch television the whole day so that I am not distracted. Interviews, which require another mind-set altogether, are therefore out of the question.”
Spiritual and completely devoted to the buzargan-i-deen whose kalaam she sings, Parveen firmly believes that the Sufi saints are present wherever their kalaam takes place. Always self-effacing, she attributes her remarkable ability to sing their verses with such passion and zeal not to her own spiritual development and effort, but to the will of the saints. “Those who remain connected to the shrines get rhythm, poetry and music from there. Those who don’t visit dargahs will never be blessed by the spark or inner light,” she says.
With her life’s mission to sing the kalaams of the revered Sufi saints, Parveen admits that much of her days are spent in discovering the right rhythm for their poetry. She claims that “unless the tarz is right, the poetry will have no impact. It is very difficult to put these verses inspired by the Almighty to melody for they require special dargai sur. That is why it is not surprising that no one has sung Hazrat Sultan-ar-Arafeen’s (RA) kalaam to date, for it is not easy to sing his poetry.”
But it does not mean that Abida Parveen does nothing during the day other than prepare for her performances. She watches Indian and Pakistani movies and also listens to English music. Born in a family where the father was a singer, Parveen claims she was fond of music and singing from childhood, having grown up listening to her father sing, and watching him play the harmonium. So, it was natural for her to develop an interest, too, although none of her siblings sing. She is quick to add: “My father would listen to me sing, but never forced me into it.”
Abida believes that Sufi saints are present wherever their ‘kalaam’ takes place. ‘Those who remain connected to the shrines get rhythm, poetry and music from there. Those who don’t will never be blessed by the spark or inner light’
Parveen claims that Sufi music is popular the world over and recalls that when Nusrat Fateh Ali would perform abroad, people there would clamour to listen to him. She herself has performed in churches in Europe and claims that such is the spiritual pull of the people that language has never posed a barrier in appreciating Sufi music. In fact, Parveen claims that she has noticed at performances in the west that if she was due to begin at 7pm, the audience would be present at least three hours in advance. “The kalaam of buzargan-i-deen is not separate from the Almighty, for it is in praise of Him and they communicate with Him through their verses. Hence, it kindles a spark in all who hear it, regardless of language. There is respect for the kalaam wherever it is sung, be it a mehfil in Pakistan or a performance in France or Holland.”
Parveen has made a name for herself not just in South Asia but practically the world over. Her albums have scaled international music charts, understandably a matter of great pride for her and Pakistan. Having just finished producing a cassette of Hazrat Sultan-ar-Arafeen’s Seraiki kalaam, she is currently working on a cassette of his Persian one. In fact, the reason her performances are so few and far between in Pakistan is that many of her recording takes place in Paris.
In the last two or three years she has recorded around 16 albums. She is hoping to set up a studio that can produce the kind of quality she is looking for, which will also facilitate her in recording her work as and when she wants to. One can be sure to hear a lot more of this mesmerizing singer once it materializes.