Drumbeats of despair: The struggle to preserve Sindh’s drumming tradition

Modernisation and a lack of assistance from the provincial cultural department might cause the art form to fade into oblivion.
28 Jan, 2025

Asghar Mangharhar, a 13-year-old boy, arrived with a team of drummers in Hussainabad, a village approximately 30 kilometres from Sujawal, to play drums with his father and uncle at a wedding. He is following in his relatives’ footsteps in creating the rhythm of the drums at people’s celebrations.

The Mangarhar tribe of Jati consider marriage ceremonies as divine blessings because they keep their households afloat.

“I am interested in playing drums along with my baba [father] but all children of Mangarhar basti [settlement] might not be as interested in this work as I am,” Asghar said, inadvertently hinting at the downfall of the tradition to commemorate joyous occasions.

According to historian and writer Dr Muhammad Ali Manjhi, drumming at weddings, social, and political events witnessed a rise in the Indian Subcontinent during the Mughal era. Drumming would also herald the beginning and end of war.

“The drum and flute hold significance for Sufis who perceive these two instruments as vital for inner peace and spirituality,” Dr Majhi said.

He added that drumming had roots in other parts of the country and across the border in India, however, no recognisable steps were taken to promote and preserve the tradition in Sindh.

The centuries-old tradition is slowly fading in the Larr region of Sindh, which encompasses Sujawal, Thatta, Badin and Tando Muhammad Khan. The drummers in this area, renowned for their exceptional musical skills, struggle to make ends meet as modernisation and technological advancements threaten to erase their cultural heritage.

Yaru Mangarhar, a 65-year-old resident of Jati, has dedicated his life to preserving the art. Although he acknowledged that the future of this profession is uncertain and may not provide a stable income for future generations, he remains committed to passing on his skills to his grandchildren.

Recalling the good old days, Yaru fondly remembered when drummers and shehnai players were in high demand for weddings and other ceremonies. He would often struggle to keep up with the number of bookings — a testament to the popularity of traditional music. Now, Yaru spends his days teaching his grandchildren the art and ensuring his legacy continues.

The small town of Jati in Sujawal produced legendary drummers like Ustad Abdul Raheman Mangarhar and Ali Nawaz Mangarhar who gained province-wide recognition for their skills.

The drummers of Sujawal, predominantly from the Mangarhar tribe, have been an integral part of the region’s cultural landscape for generations. Their infectious beats and rhythmic melodies have been the lifeblood of weddings, circumcision ceremonies, and other celebrations. However, with the increasing popularity of modern music equipment and loudspeakers, the demand for traditional drummers has dwindled significantly.

Mir Muhammad Hingorjo, an octogenarian and respected elder of the Mangarhar tribe, is deeply concerned about the decline of this ancient tradition.

“Modernisation is eroding our cultural roots,” he lamented. “The art of drumming is not just a form of entertainment, it’s an integral part of our heritage. We’re losing our identity, our sense of community, and our connection to our past.

“During weddings and other celebrations, our drums would beat in harmony with the shehnai reed pipes, creating an unforgettable atmosphere that would leave everyone mesmerised,” he recalled.

Hingorjo added that villagers preferred traditional music over modern loudspeakers but the younger generations were increasingly drawn to modernisation.

Rafique Mangarhar, a local drummer and leader of a group of drummers, echoed Hingorjo’s concerns. “We’re struggling to make ends meet,” he said.

“People in villages still appreciate our music and shower us with money, but it’s not enough to sustain us. We’re reluctant to pass on this art to our children because we see no future in it.”

Rafique reminisced about lucrative earnings from political gatherings and election campaigns. “We would perform for hours, and our drums would beat with the crowd’s enthusiasm. Those were good times, but now they’re few and far between.

“We are also asked by the custodian of local shrines to play drums during monthly events, Friday nights and annual Urs celebrations but many of us do not charge money as a token of love and affinity for the Sufi saints.”

Ali Muhammad, a 70-year-old drummer, devoted his life to the art, but his financial situation worsened over the years. “I’ve spent my entire life perfecting this craft, but I’ve failed to provide a decent life for my family. It’s heartbreaking to see this tradition die out.”

The Sindh culture department’s neglect of traditional drummers has exacerbated the crisis. Journalist and historian Haji Zahid Ishaque Somro criticised the department for failing to register drummers officially or provide them with a monthly stipend.

“It’s shocking that the culture department has turned a blind eye to this unique cultural tradition. We urge them to recognise and support our drummers before it’s too late.”

Sharing his ideas to help these drummers, he said artisans living in remote areas of Sindh should update their skills and learn new beats that could help them weather these changing times. He also underscored the need for official patronage of this art form.

Educationist and poet Zubair Jaffrani said drummers should educate their children so they better understand the changing trends of music and art.

Habibullah Memon, the director of Sindh’s culture department, said the department had not collected data on drummers so far. He added that the department had, however, provided assistance to drummers on various occasions.

Memon said they also invited renowned drummers from across the country to participate in cultural events and festivals. However, he acknowledged the culture department’s failure to work towards preserving this fading art.

As the sun sets over Sujawal, the sound of drums beating in the distance grows fainter. The town’s drummers, once the heartbeat of celebrations, are now struggling to survive. It’s a poignant reminder that cultural heritage is fragile and needs nurturing.

Will the Sindh culture department intervene to save this dying tradition, or will the drumbeats of Sujawal fade into silence forever?

Only time will tell.