Dear Editor,
A few years ago, while researching the history of East Indian music in Guyana, particularly the semi-classical genres referred to as ‘taan’ music, I interviewed the late Pandit Reepu Daman Persaud at his office. I was not allowed to use a recorder, however, and note-taking was restricted.
His complaint was that others had written “terrible things” about him. I committed to memory as much as was possible, under the circumstances.
As expected, he was tremendously informed. The pandit talked about personalities, instruments, organizations, music events, the various genre practices, musical bands, East Indian folk theatre, and rituals that occurred as early as the 19th century amongst the indentured Indians.
Because he was so informed, it was important to get him recorded; yet, he remained thoroughly guarded. He did, however, promise to go on record at our next meeting, and invited me to visit the Hindu Dharmic Sabha to examine whatever records existed.
I never visited the Sabha to do research work. To some if not many, the Sabha was an organization of tremendous necessity, to stem Mr Forbes Burnham’s growing influence among certain sections of Guyana’s intricate Hindu community. Mr Burnham’s move was sensible and strategic; the Hindu vote was a strong vote and one which his rival, Dr Cheddi Jagan, had benefited from traditionally.
But the struggle between Mr Burnham and his old friend for the Hindu vote resulted in a division in the Hindu leadership (Maha Sabha and Hindu Pandits’ Council supporting PNC and the Sabha for PPP) and significant consequences for Hindus, even if only in their sense of allegiance.
This was especially so for us Hindus in the Grove-Diamond (East Bank Demerara) area, where Mr Reepu Daman Persaud had his roots. Indeed, the effects were felt firsthand as one of the area’s premier pandits, Pandit Gowkarran Sharma (Hindu Pandits’ Council), became a minister of government in Mr Burnham’s administration.
During the latter half of the Burnham era, the Sharma family dominated religious affairs in the area. Indeed, a bust of Pandit Gowkarran Sharma’s father was erected in the compound of the Grove-Diamond (Vishnu) Mandir, and an attempt by some to remove it once, failed.
In retrospect, that bust seems to have become a metaphor for the aforesaid division amongst the Hindus, even distorting the line that separated our sense of puja from our sense of politics. Visits to the mandir were reduced, and for some of us who were children attempting to learn an already intricate faith, losses were suffered. The rise of the Sabha, therefore, was key.
But the Pandit’s influence extended beyond politics and religion, because of his strong interest in Indian music.
He was a primary force in many aspects of the growth of this music during the fifties through the seventies—bringing famous Indian playback singers to Guyana, organizing music concerts and pageants, and training young musicians whether it was music to be performed in the mandir or on stage.
Indeed, he often determined who was allowed to perform—something which may have accounted for some of the criticism that have been levelled against him not merely from writers but also performing artists.
Nevertheless, to the extent of his role as a cultural custodian, unless someone has taken on the difficult task of documenting his insights on record, his passing means the loss of critical and credible information regarding the evolution of East Indian music in Guyana.
Yours faithfully,
Rakesh Rampertab