Ode to Ishmeet Singh Voice of India

Braving the onslaught of the savage Mumbai monsoon one wet, grey afternoon in 1994, I made my way, pillion riding along the Marine Drive. The military dispatch rider ploughed his way resolutely through the spray of salt water that the agitated waves periodically cascaded across the road, as we wound our way to the smart, happening, Sophia College at Worli. I was tasked to get admission details for the daughter of a colleague posted along with me as an Instructor at the Defence Services Staff College at Wellington, in the Nilgiris.

Just before we made the final turn to Sophia, I realized we were on Vivek Lane. In a flash, everything fell into place. A bystander confirmed my query that the flat overlooking the lane end belonged to Jagjit and Chitra Singh, the gifted ghazal singers. I recalled a poignant interview Jagjit had given a few months after his only child, the handsome, strapping, 18 year old Vivek, had died in a car crash on the Marine Drive, on 8 July 1990. He had mentioned, with atypical angst and resignation, that, instead of doing something about improving the safety of drivers on the busy thoroughfare - his son along with a colleague were crushed when their car collided with a vehicle emerging suddenly from a side road - the Municipality had chosen to name the lane outside his house after his son.

Jagjit rose above his grief and soldiered on, singing his way out of despair, often singing of the sadness of personal loss, of parting with a loved one, of a child who would never ‘knock on his door’ again… Chitra, his wife, stopped singing altogether, retired into seclusion, unable to cope with her loss… Their last album together, completed just before Vivek died, titled “Someone Somewhere,” ranks amongst their best work. It speaks of loss, of departure, almost as if it had presaged the departure of Vivek.

It is paradoxical that it was overcast and drizzling on 31st July 2008, when the charismatic, hugely talented, lovable Ishmeet Singh, a young, 19 year old singer of great potential was cremated, honoured in death by a State funeral. It was paradoxical too, that Jagjit and Chitra, had only recently honoured him by giving him an award named after their beloved son. Ishmeet had, ironically, survived a serious car accident at Mumbai where he was studying; laughingly remarking that God must have intended to grant him a long life which is why he had saved him.

“Bachpan main pani se darta tha; nahane se darta tha mera beta” (he was afraid of water, of bathing), his Mother had indulgently remarked in an interview after one of his singing triumphs. “Tujhe sab hai pata, meri Maa”… Ishmeet had sheepishly and wryly admitted, with his charming, innocent smile. She did not know then, neither did Ishmeet that the Tarot card reader who had foretold a short singing career for him on television was uncannily right as much as his beloved Mother was when she spoke affectionately about his childhood discomfort with water. One can only introspect with sadness, that destiny had, in its unerring, chilling way, ensured that Ishmeets Mother would, (unknowingly for her) have a premonition of his death at a time when he had become the Nations favourite youth icon. The best in the land; the legendary Lata Mangeshkar, Jagjit, Chitra, Abhijit Savant, Harbhajan Mann, Hans Raj Hans, Mika, young colleagues Shreya Ghoshal, Himani all had applauded his prodigious talent.

Let us nevertheless be proud. In his death, he momentarily united an increasingly fractious, tense country; it’s young and old from all walks of life; just about every one who was touched by the untimely loss of a young genius who was talented, humble and respectful. He may have died young but will live in our hearts for ever…

Maj Gen RS Mehta (Retd), AVSM, VSM
09 August 2008
Democratic dreamers
When hope dies young
Ishmeet Singh