His was rare voice, blended of classical and typical Santiniketan gharana of Rabindrasangeet. Many an evening we aptly listened to his songs — sometimes live, sometimes on CD. Mostly i met him at Ratan Palli’s Nabadwip and a few occasions at Subernarekha too where he would fill the ambience with an aura inexplicable in a few words.
One evening, during the usual adda at Nabadwip, he told me how a piece of Ganesh Pyne thrilled him at the wash room of a person known to most of the Bengalis. He was invited by them to present a song at a memorial ceremony of Ashok Kumar Sarkar, an editor who took the family business of morning dose of newspaper to a new height. Tomorrow, March 24, would ironically be the memorial service of Vikram Singh Khangura, Vikram da for us, where probably everyone would sing “tomaro aseem e prano mon loye”, except the voice that gave us a new meaning of Rabindrasangeet for years.
His “gayaki”, the way of singing a song, could only be compared to that of his father’s, Mohan da. But Vikram da made a different and bold presence that was identified only with his voice.
It was a montage last Saturday, March 14, when I got the news of his untimely death at the age of only 36. Images of Vikram da at the addas, Vikram da at the wheels of an Indica, Vikram da with a Havana cigar, Vikram da humming some tune and many others just drift by.
Suddenly i remember Vikram da wanted a picture of Pt Malikarjun Mansur. A few weeks before he died of a massive cardiac arrest, he even told me that if i could take a printout of any picture of the classical vocalist from our digital library. Unfortunately, we did not have a good picture of Malikarjun. I called him up to inform that only to get a satiric comment with a VSK-signature laugh: “Journalists can’t unravel anything! Not even a photograph of a classical singer.” He hung up but not before asking me when i was coming next to Santiniketan.
Last week i went. Around 8.30pm, I was sitting alone waiting for others to come at Nabadwip Sweets. I made a call to Partha da, one of the regulars at the adda. Just browsing the names of who the other people i could meet that Thursday night, i stopped at one “Vikram Singh”. What should i do? Should i call him and expect to be here within half-an-hour on a Kinetic Honda?
I just deleted the entry number 236.
©Supratim Pal, 2009
One evening, during the usual adda at Nabadwip, he told me how a piece of Ganesh Pyne thrilled him at the wash room of a person known to most of the Bengalis. He was invited by them to present a song at a memorial ceremony of Ashok Kumar Sarkar, an editor who took the family business of morning dose of newspaper to a new height. Tomorrow, March 24, would ironically be the memorial service of Vikram Singh Khangura, Vikram da for us, where probably everyone would sing “tomaro aseem e prano mon loye”, except the voice that gave us a new meaning of Rabindrasangeet for years.
His “gayaki”, the way of singing a song, could only be compared to that of his father’s, Mohan da. But Vikram da made a different and bold presence that was identified only with his voice.
It was a montage last Saturday, March 14, when I got the news of his untimely death at the age of only 36. Images of Vikram da at the addas, Vikram da at the wheels of an Indica, Vikram da with a Havana cigar, Vikram da humming some tune and many others just drift by.
Suddenly i remember Vikram da wanted a picture of Pt Malikarjun Mansur. A few weeks before he died of a massive cardiac arrest, he even told me that if i could take a printout of any picture of the classical vocalist from our digital library. Unfortunately, we did not have a good picture of Malikarjun. I called him up to inform that only to get a satiric comment with a VSK-signature laugh: “Journalists can’t unravel anything! Not even a photograph of a classical singer.” He hung up but not before asking me when i was coming next to Santiniketan.
Last week i went. Around 8.30pm, I was sitting alone waiting for others to come at Nabadwip Sweets. I made a call to Partha da, one of the regulars at the adda. Just browsing the names of who the other people i could meet that Thursday night, i stopped at one “Vikram Singh”. What should i do? Should i call him and expect to be here within half-an-hour on a Kinetic Honda?
I just deleted the entry number 236.
©Supratim Pal, 2009
