Soul Survivor
Jehanzeb has had one thing dominate his life throughout and it’s the only thing he’s known in its entirety —to sing. In an age when most children learn the subtleties involved in communicating with others, Jehanzeb hosted his own concert and pulled it off well.

Growing up in the presence of one of the best Ustaads the country has to offer and learning how to balance school work and a regular life on top of that, Jehanzeb has come a long way. His popularity tripled after the release of his song Ek baar kaho tum meri ho and the release of his album, Parastish received critical acclaim. Despite entering in to the pop-music industry, he stuck to the genre of music he was trained in —classical— sparking off a whole new trend of fusing classical with pop. He has been lauded for the composition of his songs and the depth in his voice, but criticized for the solemnity pertinent in all of them, appealing to a more mature audience.

Having been acquainted with Ahmed Jehanzeb since the early ‘90s — when he was considered to be the Wonder Boy, a title given to him by Khaleej Times when he was four years old — one had known him to be somewhat shy and reclusive than, comfortable around his keyboards and music. It has been over ten years since we last interacted and Ahmed hasn’t changed much: he is still shy, very reclusive and quieter than most people. This time, however, Jehanzeb has plans and opinions, and he wants people to know what they were.

Having experienced the fickle nature of fame from a very young age, Jehanzeb confesses that “I’ve really cut my act down” when it comes to interviews, whether print or electronic. One wonders whether this has more to do with the negative press coverage he had been receiving lately rather than by personal choice. He talks about how he has retired from the limelight and then laments that media professionals here do not employ basic courtesies that are required when dealing with an artiste. Elaborating on work ethics, he opines, “During concerts, an artiste should just come, perform and leave. He should not linger on and he shouldn’t check girls out.”

On meeting Jehanzeb, one wonders what he has been up to these days. “This is something I’ve wanted to talk about,” he says, getting excited. “I’ve signed up with a company in India with the name of Tips.” His contract with Tips spans over five years and requires that he create and produce five albums for the company, one album a year. “I now have the opportunity to work with the individuals I’ve always looked up to,” he says. “If I want to work with A. R. Rahman, he would just be a phone call away.” Optimistic about the decision he's made, he goes on to state that the same company will be opening up in Paksitan as well. He also mentions that the rights of his upcoming album, My Pakistan, have been contracted locally.

Does this mean that Jehanzeb has now decided to join the breed of cross-over musicians like Adnan Sami Khan? “It is somewhat like that,” he says. “I’ll be spending a greater part of the month in India but I will come down to Pakistan now and then. India is like my office where I go to work.” He wants to clarify that he moved to India to work and not to spite Pakistan. He further supports his stand of moving to India by saying that “Even if I get a good place to work in Nigeria, I will move there because I need to work.”

Having said this, Jehanzeb suddenly sits up straighter, as if something just occurred to him, and leans forward, “I would like to state something very clearly,” he says very seriously. “I am not a part of any local television channel or company.” One wonders whether he is referring to the Indus Television Network that he joined in August 2001. He further elucidates that rumors regarding his legal commitment to a local company had been a major hindrance in the closing of his contract with Tips. He mentions receiving threats about banning him from TV during the time his negotiations with Tips were underway.

For a while, he appears to be lost in thought, as if quietly agitated. Then he starts talking about art and culture in Bombay and laments that in Pakistan, we haven’t realized what culture is all about and have dragged unrelated extremist religious elements into it. “Keep your religion to yourself,” he states. He lauds the present government’s enthusiasm in developing the media industry.

Going on about Bombay and the Indian entertainment industry, he considers working in Bollywood as a step ahead in furthering his career as an artiste. “Bollywood provides you the platform from where you can get to places in Hollywood. It’s really easy to grab, if you have the potential.” He opines that the other reason why India is so culturally strong is because music and art are treated as a part of the school curricula; if a person wants to pursue education in the fields of music, he/she would be guided properly via schools and vocational institutes.

He emphasizes the need for Pakistani people to give local artistes the respect they deserve. Otherwise, the most prolific musicians would continue to leave the country. Ahmed gives the examples of Aamir Zaki among these and declares that we are losing Asad Ahmed from Karavan as well. Oddly enough, this particular point of view echoes with those of certain other musicians as well, leading one to wonder whether most working artistes feel underappreciated the way Jehanzeb does.

One sincerely hopes that Jehanzeb manages to realize his full potential as a musician by working in India. But whether working in Hollywood is the concluding peak in a musician's career— and more so, is Bollywood the gateway to success— remains debateable.However, he does strike the bull's eye when he says ours is a budding industry, and because it is still in its infancy, it will take time for people to develop proprieties when dealing with musicians and artistes.

credits: photograph taken by Rizwan-ul-Haq.

personal note: one of my least favorite. super edited pieces.

First Published:
Images
July 16th, 2006