‘Nacheez ko Jasdev Singh kehte hain’

Sumit Paul 

The year was 2003. It was my second lecture as a diction ‘expert’ at FTI, Pune. I saw an elderly Sikh gentleman sitting among the students. His face appeared faintly familiar, but I couldn’t place him. After the lecture, he came to me and said in chaste Urdu: ‘Bahut khoob! Zabaan pe aapka uboor qaabil-e-taareef hai, lekin aapki Hindi pe Urdu ka ghalba ghalib hai’ (Wonderful! Your command of the language is worth appreciating, but your Hindi is heavily influenced by Urdu). 

‘Baharhaal, is nacheez ko Jasdev Singh kehte hain’ (By the way, I’m Jasdev Singh). 

The name rang a bell. I used to hear his old sports and general commentaries at the archives of BBC, London, AIR, Delhi and India House, London. He was an idol to all those who wanted to distinguish themselves in the sphere of Hindi/Urdu broadcasting and radio-anchoring. 

I was mesmerised. I came to know that FTI would invite the best broadcasters and commentators as visiting professors to conduct brief workshops for students of diction, enunciation, voice modulation and dialogue delivery. Every year, Jasdev Singh would come for a fortnight to conduct the diction classes. After 2008, he stopped because of his indifferent health, and FTI dispensed with the course after 2010.

In those five years, I learnt a lot from the great man, about whom Khushwant Singh famously said in the now defunct The Blitz: ‘Sardar sans any accent.’

Jasdev Singh had no trace of his mother tongue Punjabi while speaking in Hindi and Urdu. It is said three Punjabi literary stalwarts never spoke Hindi/Urdu with even a semblance of Punjabi. They have been: Sampooran Singh Kalra aka Gulzar, Jasdev Singh and to a great extent, Sri Ganganagar-born ghazal singer Jagjit Singh. 

Like Jagjit Singh, Jasdev hailed from Rajasthan. He was born in Jaipur and learnt to converse in Hindi like a native speaker of the language. Extremely approachable and down-to-earth, Jasdev would never behave condescendingly. Whoever approached him for tips to improve voice quality, clarity and delivery of dialogues, he would teach him/her the nuances with admirable patience and zeal. 

It was Jasdev who introduced me to Hindi film magazines like Madhuri, Chalchitra and Hindi sports magazines Khel-Duniya and Khel-Khilari. My Hindi lacked flow and fluency. He gently nudged me to converse in Hindi, making me shelve my mother tongue, Persianised Urdu. He also urged me to write in Hindi script instead of Urdu. Since he was good at  both Hindi and Urdu, he could pinpoint where I made mistakes. 

He had daanedaar awaaz (mild gravel/orotund-baritone) and his mastery over pauses was worth emulating. He knew where to put emphasis for the best effect. But he never sounded artificial. His style was spontaneous. 

He’d often quote Frank Sinatra: ‘It’s not the personality or poise/What makes a man is his voice.’

Au revoir, Jasdevji.