Zakir Hussain Was a Deity Among Fellow Tabla Players
Zakir Hussain was generous, humble, and thoughtful, said Misha Masud at event honoring the tabla wizard's memory at Asia Society, New York
(Photo: Zakir Hussain greeting Misha Masud at Carnegie Hall, New York. This was after he told her that his daughter Anisa was going to have a baby. March 28, 2015. © Misha Masud.)
February 4, 2025
By Misha Masud
On February 1, 2025, Asia Society, New York, honored the memory of tabla maestro Zakir Hussain with music and stories about him. Here are the remarks by Misha Masud, a friend of Zakirji. She is a tabla teacher who lives in New York City.
Good evening,
I’m thankful that we could all be here to honor Zakirji and celebrate his life.
Personally, I’m also so thankful and blessed to have had Zakirji in my life since he first arrived in the States in 1970. It was in Pandit Ravi Shankar’s home in Los Angeles when he had 19-year-old Zakir play with him at a gathering for friends. Imagine how taken we were!
My first few lessons in tabla were with Ustad Alla Rakha several years earlier. One day, the other student and I had just finished our lesson. Allarakhaji had gotten up and had gone to sit at a table and someone put on a record. My friend and I were still at our drums - talking and not paying attention. Suddenly we heard a fist hit the table and Allarakhaji called out, “My son!” It was Zakirji’s first LP which was with Ustad Shamim Ahmed (a sitarist).
In the notes on the record cover it said, “At sixteen…Zakir Hussain, with his deft touch and his completely relaxed manner of tabla playing, already shows definite signs of becoming a great name in the world of Indian music.” Little did we know! How, in 1967, could we have conceived of what “my son” was going to mean?
Certainly, we were all impressed and more and more so as the years passed. His sound, his creativity, each year with a new technique, a new concept, a new approach to a piece, his spontaneity, the variety of colors and expressions in his playing, his special connection with the artists he was accompanying as well as his audiences.
…….and in his lectures, he had a remarkable way of explaining even the most complex concepts in a way that even a non-musician could understand.
(Photo: Misha Masud speaking at Asia Society, New York. February 1, 2025. © Mary Leer.)
And what kind of person was Zakirji? Generous, thoughtful, humble, compassionate, supportive, dignified, respectful, honorable, and always polite. He loved his students and taught them with passion and when speaking about his beautiful family, that is when he would fully light up. About ten years ago, after a concert at Carnegie Hall with a room full of people waiting to speak with him, he came right over to me and beaming from ear to ear had to tell me about his daughter. “Anisa is going to have a baby!" and then went on to tell me how she was doing, when the baby was due, and so on.
How many times did we see Zakirji greeting admirers after a concert when he would give attention to each and every one of them? And for those who were nervous to speak with him, he would have his remarkable way of putting them at ease - perhaps with, “Hi, I’m Zakir!” or joke in some other manner or ask them about themselves. And then how did he remember so many people? One by one - "How is your aunt doing now?” To another, "Oh, do you now live in New York?" and to another, "How is your practice going? Give my best to your guruji!” And he would deflect all of the attention that was showered upon him. And if someone were to say, “You’re the best tabla player in the world!,” he would respond with, “No, there are at least ten or fifteen other tabla players just as good.”
And his empathy. Once, after a concert, there was a young man who told me that he was very nervous about meeting Zakirji and he had bouquet of flowers for him. To see how Zakirji put the young man at ease! Then someone started taking photos and the young man stepped aside. But, of course, Zakirji called out to him, “Where are you going? Come join us!” And he put his arm around the young man and had him pose with him in the center of the group. That was Zakirji.
(Photo: Zakir Hussain speaking to his tabla maker Haridas Vhatkar - not in photo- in the green room at Shanmukhananda Hall, Mumbai. At full-day concert he organized annually, in memory of his father Alla Rakha. February 3, 2007. © Misha Masud.)
All who knew Zakirji knew that he was always concerned about everyone - always looking after everyone. “How was your flight?” “Are you feeling better now?” “How are you getting home at this hour?” And on tours with other musicians - had they eaten? Had they slept? Did they need anything?
I had been at the receiving end of this concern and care on many occasions.
From the time he was a child, Zakirji had known my first husband. When my husband passed away many years ago, Zakirji called immediately - of course to offer his condolences but, also, to see what he could do, checking to see what I needed, whom did I want him to inform, did I need him to come fly down? And on the next day, the same. His heart was a great as his talent.
Each year, I would make a rakhi and send it to Zakirji. Only two times did I have the opportunity to tie it on his wrist. When I saw him after his concert in October, we spoke for a few minutes. Then there were some photos taken and then we spoke a little more and said our "goodbyes.” He had taken several steps away to speak with someone and then turned back, put his fingers around his wrist and said, "I wore your rakhi." I’m thankful to carry these words as the last ones he said to me.
I will close with one more memory…
About twenty years ago, I was at dinner with one of the master tabla players, Mr. Wachovsky of India Archive Music and a fellow I didn't know. At one point, that fellow asked our tabla player "So who are the best five tabla players?" And he responded with the names of five of the seniormost performers. The fellow, perhaps thinking he now had inside information, blurted out, "Oh I see you didn't say Zakir Hussain!" Our tabla player took a deep breath, looked down and said slowly, "Zakirji is Zakirji. To us he is God. Even we don't normally utter his name."
Thank you.