Hills & vales will echo his songs

DC Sharma 

I was reading the morning newspapers when my wife entered the study and broke the shocking news. My dear friend and popular Himachali folk singer Pratap Chand Sharma was no more! I grew nostalgic; all old memories about him crowding my mind. 

Pratap Chand shot to fame when he first performed at a Republic Day function at Pragpur, a heritage village in Kangra district, close to his native village. It put him on the pedestal of name and fame. His melodious voice charmed, as he sang in a natural, yet mesmerising manner. He was simple, naivety writ large on his face. When people would praise him for the eminence he was gaining, he would never feel proud, but would maintain his humility. 

I met him for the first time when he visited DAV College, Kangra. He was then working in the public relations department. He had come for admission for a relative's daughter. I felt pleasure in granting admission to her on account of merit, but could not help him with the tough competition for a seat in the hostel. His kind words still ring in my ears: ‘Why take it so seriously Sharmaji, I know you feel awkward for your genuine helplessness....’

Regardless of my failure to help him, he turned into a real friend. One morning when I was getting ready for college, I received a phone call from him. How he expressed his wish to share a song with me! I took my wife along to visit him at his village on my scooter. Since I did not know the location of his house, I asked people. They were telling one another that we had come to see ‘Pratapu’ (popularly known so among the locals).

Such a loving friend he was that he would often share his latest compositions with me. He had to his credit about 200 enchanting songs that could enthral the audience. He would praise and find faults with my published articles! I still remember some useful suggestions he made to me.

He was concerned about pension: ‘I too have no pension, neither would you. Of what use are all these accolades if we have to live from hand to mouth? Could we ever ask someone to give us money as we would once ask our parents? Governments come and go. There is only lavish praise for us writers when we do something praiseworthy, but they never care how we would carry on without cash in hand.’

How true his words were! He lived with gusto, but suffered from pangs of poverty. At 92, even though he was hale and hearty, he bade goodbye to this mortal world. His songs will live on, and remind us that there lived a soul who knew how to live and sing.