KATHMANDU: At 70, tabla (hand drums) maestro Raju Agrawal moves through his mornings with the precision of a metronome. He rises at 4 AM, braving cold water for his daily bath, indifferent to the bite of the season.

From there, he climbs to Guyheswari, where an hour of meditation and Pranayama (a yogic practice focused on controlling and regulating breath, often referred to as breathwork or breathing exercises). Surrounded by birdsong, the whisper of the forest, and the distant clang of temple bells, then returns back home.

This routine has been going on for three decades. It has been 12 years since he retired in 2013 and the journey to Radio Nepal was broken. He hasn’t returned to the studio after retirement.

These days, he is found in ashrams (hermitage) or dabalis (an open-air platform or a public space used for various activities like religious ceremonies, community gatherings, and performances), in Kathmandu, Bhaktapur, and Patan. On July 12, he was found at ‘Shri Ram Yoga Pashupati Sanyas Ashram’ in Gaushala.

When we reached there, he was taking turns playing the tabla and harmonium and singing a bhajan sung by Rama Mandal to his own music:

‘Bato Dekhaideu Krishna,

Bato Dekhaideu’

(Show me the way, Krishna, show me the way)

Just as the place has changed, the purpose of playing the tabla has also changed. He says, “Earlier, I used to play the tabla to perform for others. These days, I play it to listen to myself.”

The Raju of six decades ago was a different person. He had a strong desire to learn music and perform in front of others. This desire was created by the atmosphere of evening bhajans and classical music at the Machhindrabahal Dabali near his house.

When a person enjoys the rhythm and tempo of music, they forget time, situation, and themselves. Music mesmerized Raju in the same way. He would forget the time to go home while listening to music. Sometimes, he would even forget the way.

One after another, maestros would come to perform at the Machhindrabahal Dabali. In a time when there were not many options for entertainment, there would be a crowd of people listening to music. Raju would also get lost in the joy of music by joining that crowd.

That is where he saw the tabla for the first time. The vibration of the sound produced by that small instrument, just like him, would create a strange ripple in his heart.

It had become his habit to get intoxicated by the sounds of the tabla’s beats—dha, ti, tin, na… every day. He says, “The more I listened, the more I wanted to keep listening. I would not remember where I was or what time I had to get home.”

Photo: Bikram Rai/Nepal News

When he reached home, his parents would bombard him with questions like, “Where did you go? What did you do?” He would pretend not to hear them.

Slowly, Raju’s curiosity and attraction toward the tabla were noticed even by the maestros. One day, Ustad (an honorific title derived from the Arabic word ustādh meaning “master” or “teacher) Dilipnath Yogi called Raju to the stage and said, “Come sit, I will teach you how to play the tabla.”

Raju’s happiness knew no bounds. He remembers the moment he touched the tabla for the first time, “It was an unexpected event. I used to wonder what it would be like to touch a tabla, and when I was called on stage, I got nervous.”

After that, he was not limited to being a listener and a spectator. With a little enthusiasm and a little fear, his young fingers started dancing on the tabla. Under the supervision of the maestros, day after day, his journey to become a tabla player began without him even realizing it.

At that time, musical programs like the one at Machhindrabahal were held at dabalis from Indrachowk to Patan and Bhaktapur. There would be a music conference in Nepal Bhasa. Hindi bhajans (hymns) would be sung. The maestros started taking Raju with them to all these places.

He started regularly playing the tabla at places like the weekly program in Indrachowk and the Rauniyar Bhajan Mandal in front of the Bhairabnath Battallion. He says, “Everyone started to recognize me. At that time, I was 10-12 years old.”

Raju, who studied at Shahid Shukra School, would even tap on the tabla during half-time. Although he had memorized the timing of the rhythm, his attention to his studies started to decline. For a year, his studies were even ruined.

Raju’s father was a sheep trader. As a member of a Marwari family (known historically as traders and bankers) with a business background, his family was unhappy when Raju got into music. When the tabla started affecting his studies, the strictness at home increased. Getting scolded and beaten became normal.

Photo: Bikram Rai/Nepal News

However, even today, when Raju talks about music, he has flashbacks of the bhajan atmosphere inside his house. At home, his grandmother, mother, father, and other family members would sing bhajans while clapping their hands. He would also joyfully mimic them. But when he started going out to listen to bhajans, his family started to object.

His young mind could not fathom the reason why music and bhajans were allowed inside the house, but their son playing the tabla outside the house was not. “My family rejected me because I got into music,” he says in a melancholic tone.

The daily bickering and rejection hurt his feelings, and his heart was shattered. He had no option but to cry his heart out in a locked room. But even in such difficult circumstances, he did not stop playing the tabla.

He had endured being scolded and beaten. During the time of the School Leaving Certificate (SLC) examination form filling in 1975, his parents even said, “You don’t study. Why should we give you money to fill the form?” At that time, it cost Rs 15 to fill the form. He filled the form by borrowing money from his close friends.

The days after that became more challenging for him. His family announced, “Do whatever you want to do on your own.”

His teenage mind was not yet capable of tolerating this level of neglect from his family. He slowly gave up the expectation of his family’s support. His family also kept saying, “I wish he would just leave.” Raju also tried to leave home many times. A few years passed by like this.

When family support is lost, hope in outsiders grows. Raju also started to depend on some of his close friends. He says, “I had a Gujarati friend who used to sell old utensils and clothes. He would pay my college fees.”

Finally, on a day in 1982, Raju stuffed a pair of clothes and his tabla in a bag and left home at 12 AM. “I had to either leave music or home; I decided to leave the world but not music, so I left home,” he says.

He spent the first two nights after leaving home on a bench in Ratna Park in a bone-chilling cold. He walked all day hungry. Fortunately, he had some good friends who helped him in his time of crisis. The biggest friend he had, however, was his tabla.

Ustad Dilipnath Yogi was the first person to teach Raju how to place his hands on the tabla. Yogi, who understood Raju’s ability, taught him the tabla systematically. Around 1970, at the age of 14-15, Raju started going to Radio Nepal with his guru.

He got the opportunity to play the tabla in the song “Najik Bhayera Pani.” That song, recorded with vocals by Arvind Malakar and music by Chandra Raj Sharma, became his first recorded work. Even though he didn’t get paid, he was ecstatic.

Finally, on a day in 1982, Raju stuffed a pair of clothes and his tabla in a bag and left home at 12 AM. “I had to either leave music or home; I decided to leave the world but not music, so I left home,” he says.

A little later, he got the opportunity to work at Radio Nepal on a contract basis, with a salary of five rupees per song. There would be a recording of at least one song every day at Radio Nepal. Creators like Yogesh Vaidya, Prem Dhoj Pradhan, Aruna Lama, Tara Devi, Shanti Thatal, Natikaji, Shivshankar, and Fatteman would come there.

His time would be spent at the radio station from 10 AM to 2-3 PM. While working, Madan Pariyar, CK Rasaili, Prakash Gurung, among others, became his close friends. He was the youngest member at the radio station.

After entering the radio station, he learned something new. “There is a big difference between playing outside and playing in a team within a frame. When I played outside, I didn’t know what was wrong,” he says, “I had to prepare myself for the quality that met the radio’s standards.”

He says that he faced a challenging situation in the initial phase of his work at the radio station. Some people would even say that he would not make it. But at such times, he would remember his guru’s words, “Obstacles will come while you are learning, don’t harbor jealousy in your mind, and don’t get intoxicated with training.”

Following his guru’s love and guidance, he spent 34 years at Radio Nepal, from being a contract worker to a temporary worker, and finally a permanent employee. The musicians had to work under the direction of the music coordinator. Two to four songs would be recorded daily. While working, they had to be careful about how much and how to play the tabla in the prelude and interlude of the next song compared to the previous one.

In the era of analog recording, such changes had to be made on the spot. Raju became an expert at this. Later, he also played the role of a music director as a senior employee of the music department.

The time when Raju entered Radio Nepal was the peak of modern music. Having played the tabla in more than a thousand songs recorded at Radio Nepal, he accompanied many songs on the tabla.

His name is marked on many timeless songs. Evergreen songs like ‘Ukali Orali Haru Ma’, ‘Timi Jun Raharle’, ‘Euta Manche Ko Mayale Kati’, and ‘Udayo Sapana Sabai Hurile’ are just a few examples. Raju, who says he has played the tabla in 70-80 percent of Narayan Gopal’s songs, has also played the role of a tabla player in most of Bhaktaraj Acharya’s modern songs and bhajans.

A scene of him playing the tabla has also been included in the film ‘Acharya’, which is based on the life of Bhakta Raj Acharya. He has also played the tabla in films like ‘Ke Ghar, Ke Dera’ and ’25 Basanta’.

In 1988, Narayan Gopal’s first live singing program, ‘Swarnim Sandhya,’ was organized in Kathmandu. The video of that program, which is considered an important performance in Narayan Gopal’s life, can be seen on Nepal Television’s YouTube channel. There, he is seen wearing a white shirt and glasses and playing the tabla to the right of Narayan Gopal. He says, “‘Swarnim Sandhya’ was magnificent. We practiced for almost two weeks for it.”

In the era of analog recording, such changes had to be made on the spot. Raju became an expert at this. Later, he also played the role of a music director as a senior employee of the music department.

Many people also know Raju as the musician who played the tabla in Narayan Gopal’s songs. He is proud of this. He met Narayan Gopal even before he joined the radio station.

Narayan Gopal from Kilagal would occasionally appear at the Machhindrabahal dabali. When Narayan Gopal was in the mood, he would also sing ghazals by Mehdi Hassan. He remembers, “He had already become a hit by then. When he was near, I would feel shy thinking that I was standing in front of a senior artist.”

Even while working together many times during the recording of Narayan Gopal’s songs in the Radio Nepal studio, Raju’s shyness did not go away. He says, “I always put Narayan Gopal in the place of a guru. I have his blessings, which will always remain with me.”

However, Narayan Gopal used to call Raju “Sahuji.” Raju, who could not become a Sahuji, would just smile when he heard that address. The journey that he took with Narayan Gopal and many other popular artists of that time to various places in Nepal for King Birendra’s birthday is still special to Raju today.

Raju, who has worked with many of Nepal’s great musicians, has also shown his tabla playing skills in the famous Nepali song with music by Deepak Jangam and vocals by Pakistani ghazal singer Ghulam Ali. It is not a small thing that his name and work are associated with evergreen songs like ‘Gajalu Ti, Lolaeka Ti Timro,’ ‘Kina Kina Timro Tasbir,’ and ‘Ke Chha Ra Diun,’ which are on many people’s lips.

“It was an unusual thing to play the tabla in Ghulam Ali’s song. Not just me, but everyone who entered the recording studio was hesitant, just like me,” he says, “Natikaji had encouraged us by saying, ‘Ghulam Ali is also a human being like us. He has not come from another planet, there is no need to be afraid.'” The fact that Raju was chosen as the tabla player for the concert of the famous Penaz Masani in Kathmandu also reveals his ability.

Musician Deepak Jangam considers Raju a skilled tabla player as well as an artist with a wonderful ability to work with everyone. “The role of rhythm is important in music. Raju’s contribution, who has played the tabla in the music of almost all of Nepal’s great and good creators, will also be there in those songs,” Jangam says.

Photo: Bikram Rai/Nepal News

“It has been four decades since I met him. His musical contribution has already become history. Even now, he is leading many bhajan programs, whether they are small or big. He is not only a musician but also a good singer of bhajans and ghazals,” he adds.

Valuing his talent, he was awarded the “Nepal Music and Theater National Academy Award-2024” by President Ramchandra Paudel on June 25.

Raju’s eyes welled up with tears while receiving the award. Before this, Raju had already received the ‘Gorkha Dakshin Bahu’, ‘Natikaji National Special Music Honor’, ‘Taradevi Award’, etc.

To reach a place where he receives such honors, Raju has lost a lot in his life. Music was not just a hobby for him; it became a do-or-die situation. “There is only one life, and I had two paths: die or do! I won the hearts of many by getting into music, but I couldn’t win the hearts of my family,” he says.

Despite a hard struggle, Raju, who came from a Marwari background and tasted the flavor of success in music, considers himself an exception. He, from a different culture, grew up under the influence of Nepali Newa culture. Therefore, he also played the tabla in Newari songs.

“While other communities gave me praise and respect, my family, just because I was a Marwari, always gave me mental torture. They were the sons of Laxmi, and I was the son of Saraswati!” he says, calming his mind.