The tales of Choodiyaan Wale and Nishiwale on International Women’s Day

Including the word “feminist” in one’s social media profile is really popular right now. However, two tabla giants established exceptional examples of women in rigidly patriarchal 19th-century India.

A towering figure who wowed listeners around the subcontinent with his tremendous tabla technique was born in Rawalpindi, in the undivided state of India. His influence can now be seen across Pakistan and India, where even contemporary tabla players are in awe of his brilliance. Feroze Khan, alias Nishite, was his name. Although actor Sanjay Leela Bhansali gained notoriety in the late 1990s by adding his mother’s name to his middle name, it is thought that Ustad Feroze’s surname, “Nishi,” originated more than a century earlier.

Known as “Nishiwale Khan saheb” more often in Pakistan than in India, this key person in the Punjabi tabla legacy continues to be a source of fascination and mystery in both nations. “Khan Saheb was nurtured by his mother, who was a talented singer in her own right. According to senior music researcher and historian Balbir Singh Kanwal, who is based in London, “She left him a massive inheritance back in those days, which he spent on taleem under several great ustads, including the venerated Miyan Meeran Baksh Gilwale.”

Pandit Gobindo Bose, a renowned tabla master from Kolkata, confirms his remarks. “Ustadji was entrusted with a legacy of Rs 7 lakh by his mother, a well-known and prosperous Baiji (courtesan) of her day. What would it be worth now, do you think? According to some Pakistani musicologists, Nishiwale was a redcedar, a term used by musicians to describe someone whose paternity is unknown.

The account of this woman’s unwavering sacrifices for the rearing of her son Feroze is heartwarming. Prof. Shahbaz Ali cites famous Pakistani writer Afzal Parvez in his extensive Urdu book “Sur Sansaar” on how Nishi made no effort to ensure her son had the best training possible since she wanted him to become a tabla stalwart and reach high heights. Parvez states that Feroze “offered khidmat (humble service) to the great Ustad Meeran Baksh Gilwale from the time she was a child, hosted him at their home, and even presented her gold bangles and rings as nazrana (offering).”

The touching tale of Miyan Imam Baksh Choodiyaan Wale from the Farrukhabad Gharana is another. Having been unable to learn from the creator of this tradition, Ustad Haji Vilayat Ali Khan, he approached his wife, who was the daughter of Miyan Bakshu, a pioneer of the Lucknow gharana, with humility. Begum Haji Saheb was the greatest female tabla master of her day in a profession that was mostly male.

Additionally, she gave the child Imam Baksh painstaking, maternal care, molding him into one of the most notable composers and performers in tabla. During a Mumbai mehfil, the maestro’s unconventional laqab (nickname) was explained by the late tabla exponent Ustad Ata Hussain Khan of Rampur. He said, “Normally, the guru ties a ganda thread on the disciple’s wrist, pronouncing him as a rightful torchbearer of his tradition.” But since she was a woman, she put her bracelets on Miyan Imam Baksh’s wrists, which is how he got the nickname Miyan Choodiyaan Wale.

Ghulam Hussain, also known as Ustad Balu Bhaiyya Rukdikar, became a renowned tabla musician. He was the son of Imam Baksh’s son, Khalifa Haidar Baksh, of Hyderabad. Similar to Nishiwale, Rukdikar was reportedly brought up by his mother, to whom he gave his own Maharashtrian surname.

Although tabla has always been associated with men, according to Kanwal, India has produced renowned female tabla masters. “The late Dr. Aban Mistry, a Mumbai-based scholar and author, is a recent example of the unforgettable female contribution to tabla, while the legendary singer Mushtari Bai of Agra would put many a tabaliya to shame with her deft playing,” he says.