Rahul Anand A man in quest of sounds

Rahul Anand with the Bodhrán. Photo: Ridwan Adid Rupon.

Rahul Anand with the 'rainmaker' . Photo: Ridwan Adid Rupon

Rahul Anand with the 'chondro-baan'. Photo: Ridwan Adid Rupon

Rahul Anand is a known face of those who have been connected with the cultural scene of Dhaka for some time. This ever-smiling, slightly eccentric man – the lead vocal of folksy-fusion collective “Joler Gaan” is best known for playing and designing literally all sorts of instruments.
At his little studio in Rupnagar, where he says he has one third of his collection of musical instruments, he talks about his passion. “I used to collect instruments -- mostly toys -- from my very early school days. I used to go to village fairs and collect them. My relatives knew of my hobby and whenever they went somewhere, they would bring something for me. It was only in college that I realised that playing a musical instrument -- flute was my primary passion -- was considered special, and I started 'taking care' of my collection.” He cannot specifically tell how many instruments he owns; but when he shows the 'pianica' (also known as 'melodica') and says he has five of them now, or that his hand-cymbal collection roughly has 50 pairs, we get an idea. He bought his first 'pianica' from a guy who came to Charukala (Faculty of Fine Arts, Dhaka University) where Rahul was a student. He sat the guy down with a friend and went in quest for the 1500 taka that the instrument would cost. He eventually collected the money in fragments from his friends – who were happy to help him acquire it. He later found out that the instrument was a gift to a dignitary from Bangladesh from a tour of Japan.
As he collected instruments, Rahul's knack of the finding out and playing the sounds they produce also grew. One of his most prized possessions is a 'dotara', the frame of which was made from a 'neem' tree that he wanted to make an instrument for seven years. When wood from the tree was sold without notifying him, he tracked down three hands to which the wood changed hands, and bought it. It was the tree where his theatre troupe used to rehearse, and he had a special connection to it. It is the last one made by famous 'dotara' player Abinash Chandra Sheel, the tuning knobs of which are crafted by noted artist Tejas Halder Josh. The 'rainmaker' – a Latin American tribal instrument that is made from a dried out hollow cactus where the thorns are pushed inside the body and the inside is filled with pebbles and seeds of various weights and sizes, and the ends are sealed. When it is tilted, the rolling pieces through the thorny obstacles create a surreal sound of rain and wind. Rahul is currently in possession of three rainmakers, all of which give a different timbre of sound.
At one point, Rahul began to design musical instruments, to cut down on dependency of plugging in an instrument electronically. The 'chondro-baan' was made as a substitute of an acoustic base, with a body shaped like an oversized banjo, played like a double-bass on a 'fretless' board with strings taken from shark-hunting nets. The 'noyon-tara' has a body like a 'dotara', eight nylon and steel strings, and a bridge made of animal bone. He bought an 'oud' from Cairo, Egypt once, but its neck and fret broke off in an accident. He replaced it with a guitar fret, flattened the pear-shaped body from behind for easy of holding, rearranged its strings, and gave it a new name 'mondola'. He has shaped and cut chunks of wood-plank to 'tune' them, made a small gong-like plate from bell-metal (Kasha) which plays itself when he blows his horns – one of them from a mountainous bovine from the Himalayas.
While on one hand his instruments include dried 'krishnachura' seeds as shakers and handmade children's toys from village fairs, at the other end are the likes of Irish hand-drum Bodhrán, Latin American triangle to a ceramic-and shell body Egyptian Darbuka drum, to the famous Scottish smallpipe, the Shaw whistle. An entire tour through his collection would probably take a couple of days at end, and he has to go out, so we wrap up the adda, satisfied despite the incompleteness.