Faridpur, Bangladesh. 29 March 2008. Habib Pagla

1. khul re mon tor deler kapat

Artist:
Habib Pagla
Composer:
Deen Tinuchand
Form:
Murshidi
Song region:
Faridpur

We are often asked about how we choose our field, establish contact and make our field recordings. Do we know the artist from before? Is the artist well known in his/her region or established in the genre? What are we looking for when we go to an artist? There is no one answer to these questions because there is no single method to follow, no fixed plan of action. Things happen. Sometimes we go for a particular thing or person, sometimes it is a matter of chance. Out of all the field recording sessions we have had, Habib stands out as one of those rare sounds that you chance upon; he just happened. This was on our third visit to Faridpur.
Now the place was becoming familiar to us, and our friendships had started to get deeper. We were talking with Salamot bhai about the rare, immersed singer. He said, there is such a man whom I know, he drives a rickshaw and late at night when he goes home, he sings to himself. লোকে বলে, ওই যে হবি যায়। He is quite crazy. His name is Habib; people call him Hobi Pagla. If you are lucky you might meet him. Sometimes he comes to my house at night, but there is no knowing when he will come. He also comes to Shambhunath’s tea shop to hang out; smokes, then helps with the dishes, puts the kettle on, serves tea. Then if he likes, he might also sing a song.

Habib Pagla. A recording session in Sadek Ali’s house, Ambikapur, Faridpur

We were at Shambhunath’s. Salamot bhai asked, হবি আসছিল নাকি? That night Habib actually turned up. Salamot bhai asked him to sing and he sat for a while in contemplation and slowly began to let the song flow out of his body. As the song grew, so grew Habib, beating on the table, his breath rising and falling with the rhythm of the song. Structurally, his song was like the rhythmic prayer or zikr and indeed the song was about this Sufi devotional act of repeatedly pronouncing the name of god.

Open the doors of your heart
See with the light of your eyes
Breathe in, sing la ilaha
Breathe out, sing ila-llah

In the years following this meeting, we have looked out for Habib every time that we have been to Faridpur. We have mostly managed to meet him. Slowly we have realised that Salamot bhai and Habib share a very special bond—Habib calls him abba or father, and deeply respects him; as much as he can, in his own mad way. Such as, he will wait for Salamot bhai to finish his day’s work and adda at Shambhunath’s or Faridpur Press Club, and then take him home in his rickshaw.

Habib has sung this same song again and again at almost every recording session that we have had with him. He seems to carry the song within, like the name of Allah. Tame your desires, open your heart, and sing the name of god. Breathe in, breathe out. While writing this note I called Salamat bhai to ask about the composer, Tinuchand; also to ask the meaning of some of the words. Tinuchand is a composer from the Nadia region; now the place falls in India. He pre-dates Lalon Fokir. And the name is not Tinu, most probably it is Dinu, Salamot bhai said. What is sohi? It is not sohi, the word is sofi; means image. The image of god. Picture god in your mind and then utter the name: la ilaha ila-llah, la ilaha ila-llah. . . . There is no need for doing sizda (sajda) after sizda, no need for touching your head to the ground again and again, if you carry the name and image of god within. Those are the words.

A recording session with Habib in Shambhunath’s tea shop, Faridpur.

খোল রে মন তোর দেল-এর কপাট
ও দিব্যু নয়ন যাবে রে খুলে
লা ইল্লাহ দম বলে, ডাকো ইলাল্লাহ দম বলে

কলেমা তোর আলেক রতন
জপো ওই নাম হরদমের দম
নাফসোকে করিয়া দমন
মায়া দাও গা ছেড়ে

ও দেহের খুলবে চৌদ্দ তালা
দেখবি কত খেলা গো
বেহেস্তে নেবে ডেকে রে তোরে
লা ইল্লাহ দম বলে, ডাকো ইলাল্লাহ দম বলে

ওগো আগে করো সোহি রে সেজদা
পিছে তূমার আছে রে খুদা
মিছা কেনে ডলছো রে কাদা,
মরছো রে কপাল ডলে

ও তোর সেজদার পরে সেজদা
তাতে নাই কা ফয়দা গো
ও দীন তিনু চান্দে রে বলে
লা ইল্লাহ দম বলে, ডাকো ইলাল্লাহ দম বলে

Open the doors of your heart
See with the light of your eyes
Breathe in, sing la ilaha
Breathe out, sing ila-llah

Once Habib declared he would now follow the straight and narrow path. His grown-up son disapproves of his ways. So he has asked him to give up work, not smoke and live properly; do sizda and say his five prayers, and stay at home. So he had given away his rickshaw, he claimed. Perhaps next time he would not come to Shambhunath’s anymore. That was worrying. Habib without the song would be a bird whose wings had been clipped.

Wasn’t so easy to tame Habib though, because he had to go back both to his rickshaw and his songs. However, the last time we met Habib was in January 2013, he seemed more distracted than usual. His daughter was in hospital for a surgery. Habib was singing, but his mind was not quite in the song. More than the kalimah, more than the name of his god, it was finally coming down to these universal bonds of love. How to tame this heart? How to free it?

–Written in May 2014.