Among the many lesser-known jewels in the sub-continental musical treasure chest you will find a bright and glimmering voice from Afghanistan. Known by his stage name, Nashenas, he is among the most respected artists of his generation and enjoys a place in the highest ranks of modern Afghan singers.
Born into a middle-class family in a more liberal, and some would say, more cultured, era, Mohammad Sadiq Fitrat, was an amateur singer who despite seemingly insurmountable social constraints achieved his dream of becoming a well-loved artist. In Pashtun society, where most musicians were generally from lower socioeconomic sections, his achievement is all the more amazing.
A Kakar Pashtun from Kandahar, as a youngster, Fitrat moved frequently across northern cities of British India with his family; his father was an officer of the National Bank of Afghanistan. During these years he was exposed to north Indian music, especially ghazals, and picked up a reasonable knowledge of Urdu.
He returned to Kabul for higher education, eventually graduating from the faculty of law and political science. After some years as director of foreign programs at Radio Afghanistan, in 1962 he went to Moscow University, which ultimately awarded him a PhD in Pashto literature.
Beginning in the 1950s, Fitrat would practice his harmonium and singing under his blanket at home to muffle the sound. In order to preserve the honor of the family, he adopted the name Nashenas (Anonymous) when he received his first invitations to sing on the radio.
His association with the national radio network remained throughout his life. He never turned professional, although he released a number of tapes and was a frequent and much loved voice on the airwaves. For him, music always remained a true shauq , or passion; never a job.
After the Soviet invasion of his country, he refused both to sing ‘patriotic’ songs and to join the ruling Communist party. Exiled for a few years to the Afghan embassy in Moscow, when he returned in the late 1980s to Kabul, he fled the country to Pakistan with his family.
In the words of one critic, “Nashenas has a greater vocal range and more interest in timbre and dynamic variety than many Afghan singers. He performs in a number of vocal genres, including Pashto folk and Afghan popular songs. He is also noted for his rendition of Hindi geet and has often been compared to the great Indian singer Saigal. He is also knowledgeable about Afghan classical music. What really distinguishes him as a performer is his great knowledge of Persian and Pashto classical poetry.”
Here are five wonderful performances from the great master.
Jab Dil hi Toot Gaya
Like so many others in the early days of the Bombay talkies, the young Fitrat was mesmerised by the voice of KL Saigal, Indian cinema’s first great singer. Here he pays homage to the singer with a cover of one of his greatest hits.
Azma Ghandahara da Azmaro Watana
While he refused to sing praises to a government he regarded as a puppet of the Soviets, Nashenas was a proud Afghan, as this Pashto song in praise of the beloved watan demonstrates.
Choon Nay Ba Nawa Amad
Perhaps the greatest south Asian mystic of them all, Maulana Jalaludin Rumi, was born in Balkh, northern Afghanistan. His poetry is a regarded as a national treasure. Here Nashenas renders one of Rumi’s poems with sensitivity and enthusiasm.
Ba Raftam
Another song with sublime, mystical lyrics, sung in Dari (Afghan Persian).
I went up to the ocean and, addressing a wave, said
“You're always restless; tell me what is it that troubles you?
You have a million pearls enfolded in your garment's skirt,
But do you, like me, have a heart ─ the only pearl that's true?”
It squirmed, retreated from the shore, and uttered not a word.
Went up to the mountain and said, “O huge heap of stone!
Can you not hear the wailing of a heart in agony?
If in your stones there is a gem that is a drop of blood,
Then speak, O speak, to a sad soul that pines for company.
If it had breathed, it breathed no more, and uttered not a word.
I travelled long in upper space, approached the moon, and said:
“O ceaseless wanderer, is there any rest ordained for you?
Your radiance makes the whole world gleam white like a jasmine field.
But is your breast aglow with a live heart whose light shines through?”
She looked round at the starry crops, and uttered not a word.
Transcending sun and moon, I went up to the Throne of God.
“There's not a thing, ” I said, “I can be friends with, not a thing.
Your world is heartless, while my dust is all of heart's stuff made.
A pretty garden, but not the kind of place to make one sing.”
He answered with the smile He wore, and uttered not a word.
Sooratnaparastam man
Kundan Lal Saigal on one side, Alama Mohammad Iqbal on the other. The great poet of the East was another influence on a whole generation of writers, thinkers and singers. In this live performance, Nashenas interprets one of Iqbal’s Persian poems.
I worship in the idol‐house,
And I pray in the Kabah,
Around my neck the sacred thread,
And in my hand the rosary.
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Born into a middle-class family in a more liberal, and some would say, more cultured, era, Mohammad Sadiq Fitrat, was an amateur singer who despite seemingly insurmountable social constraints achieved his dream of becoming a well-loved artist. In Pashtun society, where most musicians were generally from lower socioeconomic sections, his achievement is all the more amazing.
A Kakar Pashtun from Kandahar, as a youngster, Fitrat moved frequently across northern cities of British India with his family; his father was an officer of the National Bank of Afghanistan. During these years he was exposed to north Indian music, especially ghazals, and picked up a reasonable knowledge of Urdu.
He returned to Kabul for higher education, eventually graduating from the faculty of law and political science. After some years as director of foreign programs at Radio Afghanistan, in 1962 he went to Moscow University, which ultimately awarded him a PhD in Pashto literature.
Beginning in the 1950s, Fitrat would practice his harmonium and singing under his blanket at home to muffle the sound. In order to preserve the honor of the family, he adopted the name Nashenas (Anonymous) when he received his first invitations to sing on the radio.
His association with the national radio network remained throughout his life. He never turned professional, although he released a number of tapes and was a frequent and much loved voice on the airwaves. For him, music always remained a true shauq , or passion; never a job.
After the Soviet invasion of his country, he refused both to sing ‘patriotic’ songs and to join the ruling Communist party. Exiled for a few years to the Afghan embassy in Moscow, when he returned in the late 1980s to Kabul, he fled the country to Pakistan with his family.
In the words of one critic, “Nashenas has a greater vocal range and more interest in timbre and dynamic variety than many Afghan singers. He performs in a number of vocal genres, including Pashto folk and Afghan popular songs. He is also noted for his rendition of Hindi geet and has often been compared to the great Indian singer Saigal. He is also knowledgeable about Afghan classical music. What really distinguishes him as a performer is his great knowledge of Persian and Pashto classical poetry.”
Here are five wonderful performances from the great master.
Jab Dil hi Toot Gaya
Like so many others in the early days of the Bombay talkies, the young Fitrat was mesmerised by the voice of KL Saigal, Indian cinema’s first great singer. Here he pays homage to the singer with a cover of one of his greatest hits.
Azma Ghandahara da Azmaro Watana
While he refused to sing praises to a government he regarded as a puppet of the Soviets, Nashenas was a proud Afghan, as this Pashto song in praise of the beloved watan demonstrates.
Choon Nay Ba Nawa Amad
Perhaps the greatest south Asian mystic of them all, Maulana Jalaludin Rumi, was born in Balkh, northern Afghanistan. His poetry is a regarded as a national treasure. Here Nashenas renders one of Rumi’s poems with sensitivity and enthusiasm.
Ba Raftam
Another song with sublime, mystical lyrics, sung in Dari (Afghan Persian).
I went up to the ocean and, addressing a wave, said
“You're always restless; tell me what is it that troubles you?
You have a million pearls enfolded in your garment's skirt,
But do you, like me, have a heart ─ the only pearl that's true?”
It squirmed, retreated from the shore, and uttered not a word.
Went up to the mountain and said, “O huge heap of stone!
Can you not hear the wailing of a heart in agony?
If in your stones there is a gem that is a drop of blood,
Then speak, O speak, to a sad soul that pines for company.
If it had breathed, it breathed no more, and uttered not a word.
I travelled long in upper space, approached the moon, and said:
“O ceaseless wanderer, is there any rest ordained for you?
Your radiance makes the whole world gleam white like a jasmine field.
But is your breast aglow with a live heart whose light shines through?”
She looked round at the starry crops, and uttered not a word.
Transcending sun and moon, I went up to the Throne of God.
“There's not a thing, ” I said, “I can be friends with, not a thing.
Your world is heartless, while my dust is all of heart's stuff made.
A pretty garden, but not the kind of place to make one sing.”
He answered with the smile He wore, and uttered not a word.
Sooratnaparastam man
Kundan Lal Saigal on one side, Alama Mohammad Iqbal on the other. The great poet of the East was another influence on a whole generation of writers, thinkers and singers. In this live performance, Nashenas interprets one of Iqbal’s Persian poems.
I worship in the idol‐house,
And I pray in the Kabah,
Around my neck the sacred thread,
And in my hand the rosary.
