Suman Kalyanpur: An honour too late

Raju Korti
People who in private conversations call Suman Kalyanpur a Lata Mangeshkar clone are rank ignoramuses. I used the words 'private conversations' because they -- at least the ones I know -- know the asininity of saying that in public domain because it becomes obvious what drives them to say that. A clone is a copycat. Suman didn't have to copy Lata. Her voice was similar to hers and the dyed-in-the-wool music lovers of the 50s and 60s didn't really have to strain their ears in differentiating between the two sopranos. The difference was 'unnees bees', or as some cynics sometimes put it, Suman was the 0.5th xerox of Lata. So infinitesimal was this deviation that I can bet they will not discern it in perhaps the only duet they sang together: 'Kabhi aaj kabhi kal kabhi parson..' from the 1959 film Chand composed by Hemant Kumar. The striking similarity precisely turned out to be her disqualification.

I recall any number of stories describing Lata Mangeshkar's machinations in keeping Suman out of the recording rooms and although there never was any proof of that, those who vouched about it often cited the singing prima donna's monopoly in marginalizing even her equally illustrious sister Asha. It would be a separate chapter altogether to put the two sisters in a weighing scale and that is not germane to this piece but the fact that neither Lata nor Suman spoke about it openly only lends credence to the no-smoke-without-fire theories.

Having spoken to both on different occasions, I can claim to have some perception in the mental make-ups of both. I have a reason to believe both came from different social and economic strata. Lata, in terms of her career and dealings seemed rather insecure (understandably because of the dire economic condition she grew in) but that beats me because anyone with that talent didn't have to take recourse to the 'manipulative' methods she was alleged to have. Not anyway at least after the late 50s when her position in the industry was described as 'non pareil' and the unassailable supremacy she had established even in the wake of the formidable competition from her own sisters. In contrast, Suman who came from a well-to-do economic background did not have -- rather did not need -- the cut-throatism and chicanery to survive in an industry where networking and sycophancy are key qualifications.

Before you jump to conclusions, let me clarify. This is not a comparison of the singing prowess of two. Their respective career graphs and for all the tonal gold in their voices, are testimony that Lata always had an edge over Suman. Lata was vocal in every sense of the word while Suman was extremely self effacing and shy to the extent that she hardly spoke with even her co-singers. There is some substance in the observation that her purple patch came by default in the wake of the royalty dispute between the country's two greatest singers Rafi an Lata. However, it is to the credit of Suman that she was equal to the task and sang her crystalline pure best although the argument is that Rafi was the Highest Common Factor here and that Suman was just filling the blanks.

I personally do not subscribe to this patently unilateral view. You just have to listen to four Suman songs that I never get tired of listening to. Three are by Khayyam "Bujha diye hain khud apne hathon, Zindagi zulm sahi zabr sahi gham hi sahi" (both Shagoon-1964) and "Jo hum pe gujarti hai tanhaa kise samjhaayein" (Mohabbat Isko Kehte Hain-1965), and "Haal-e dil unko sunaya tha (Fariyad-1964) . Without going into the merits of the royalty dispute, please focus on the fact that these Suman specimens came when the discord between Rafi and Lata (or is the other way round?) had composers scratching their heads at wit's ends. Suman solved that problem and how! It would therefore be patently unfair on her to have been branded as second serve of Lata. Like any goo competitor, she put her best foot forward and stamped her presence.

For all the talk about the manipulative tactics she is supposed to have encountered, it speaks volumes of her dignity and grace that never once did she speak/spoke about it and was, in fact, highly respectful of her adversary. In programmes, she would keep her statuesque visage with a smile as resonating as her music. Class and refined sensitivity emanated from her demeanour and disposition, something one doesn't see in an industry where mediocrity thrives with juke box office. At a programme, I recall how one of our friends, a Geet Kosh compiler pointed out to her about the Hindi version of the Billy Vaughn's 'Come September' tune she had sung. She just smiled and nodded but responded by singing a few lines in the programme. If I remember correctly, the compere Mangala Khadilkar spoke more than what Suman sang in the programme.

A couple of times I tried to get through to her< I was told she had been living in Talegaon which is half way from Mumbai to Pune. That brings me to another parallel between her and Lata. I had spoken to the latter in 2004 when I was asked to write a full page newspaper article to celebrate her 75 years. I could sense the cynicism in her polite refusal as she felt that another Raju (read the late Raju Bharatan) had written "all kinds of canards about her and that she didn't risk another Raju (me) doing it to her again."  My regret was short-lived and evaporated in the wake of confidence that she would have approved the article as the best written on her ever. At the cost of sounding a little pompous and a braggart, I feel it was her loss.

It is not my case here to reel out her career, filmography and other aspects of her life which are far too well known. In Journalism, I was brought up on this (misplaced) philosophy that a copy has to be spicy to be readable. Suman with her simple, plain vanilla ways does not fit in that model but that belief is strictly for the birds. Writing impresses with depth, words, expression, lucidity and facts not just cosmetics or condiments. I personally believe that biographies of the unsung make for a more compelling reading than those who have already made a place under the Sun. I have read far too many to come to that conclusion.

The veteran singer has been receiving a flood of accolades as she eminently deserves after being honoured with Padma Bhushan but perhaps the most condescending one is, "better late than never." Awards and honours can be cruel at times. Like if a Rafi got a Padma Shri, there were also those who cabaret-ed on the celluloid to receive the same honour. Having said that, I have nothing against cabaret dancers. My misanthropy is about the lopsided and imbalanced views that obtain in the society. It is not as if my opinion about Suman Kalyanpur takes a higher trajectory with her Padma Bhushan. With people like her, awards just become labels and no more.           

Unpleasant though it may sound and feel, is it a mere coincidence that she gets her investiture almost exactly after  Lata's death? And what credit does it do to her? An honour delayed is honour denied. Lesser people got bigger honours long back. But Suman, despite the raw deal, retains her poise and seemliness. That silence is more golden never rang more true. I can vouch for that having seen her from close quarters. If only the showbiz and glamour industry, today run over by the crass and cacophony had the same mien!