The first time I saw Gian Mahiputlall I was perched on a huge stone metres from the lorry where he stood, calling out to the Benares Sugar Estate labourers with the chant: Chalo Sipayi Chalo. The workers were mobilized by a famous trade unionist Lutchmeeparsad Badry, who had ties with the trade union movements or workers’ organisations in countries behind the then iron curtain. Gian stood behind a harmonium, a mike hung at the level of his mouth, and his companion equally standing with a pair of tablas fixed on a makeshift platform over the kes kamion, the lorry basket. I was a young student of Form 3 at Lincoln College, Rivière-des-Anguilles, already an avid observer of political and trade union matters. It was in 1963.

My recent encounter with Gian therefore occurred six decades after the distant one, two strangers, now separated by time and distance from Rivière-des-Anguilles, in his abode of peace and serenity in Helvetia. He is now 80. We both travelled down memory lane through what caused the closure of Benares Sugar Factory, hundreds of the estate labourers moving quarters to Dubreuil to prune tea leaves, and others scattered elsewhere in diverse occupations. Gian found an opportunity in a poultry farm around Moka, his experience as a poultry farm worker in the south giving him an edge over other applicants.

Orphaned at the age of three, Gian entered the school of life early as a labourer helper. In the afternoon he learnt some Hindi from Guruji Ramdeo and listened to the radio, a luxury he would not refuse. On weddings his nani Janki (maternal grandmother), his benefactor, would bring him to Geet Gawai, singing programmes on wedding eves animated by women. They were generally older ladies keeping the ancestral culture alive. Gian captured the songs and opened his heart and mind to romantic songs of Modh Rafi, Mukesh, Heman Kumar, Manna Dey, Mahendra Kapoor and Talat Mamoud. He sang their songs to the full as a matter of fact. The missing element in his eco-system was soon filled when his elder neighbour Sahadeo Mandhub offered him his harmonium to train. In the village as it was in other sugar villages, almost every family was invited to the gamat musical programme on a wedding eve. Even the uninvited approached the pandal, salle verte, erected with bamboo poles and covered with a green tarpaulin.

Gian attended these musical programmes which turned out as a Saturday night fever. The young debutant was invited to sing at intervals between the performances of a few seasoned singers from the centre and others from the north and down south. Among them were Siven Chinien, Jeewan Dawasing, Deochand Jagessur, Manilall Nowbuth, Sahadeo Jeetoo, Vishnu Hurry, Jwala Teeluckchand, Rishi Kumar and his own late sarubhai (brother-in-law), Roodraduth Pokun. They copied the Hindi songs in exercise books or carnet, of the same type as karne laboutik. They sang in original Hindi and also put in their own lyrics in Bhojpuri matching with the original harmony to be sarcastic towards other singers. There were contests within the context of the gamat and the duel could last until six o’clock on Sunday morning much to the pleasure of the invitees and onlookers.

Gian said to himself he had the sacred duty to leave a legacy that young people, in their twenties, might never know – unless someone tells them. Gamat singers would be offered milk mixed with saffron to keep their throats clear all throughout their performance and for the villagers this mixture was a privilege accorded to artists. He remembers his first appearance in a gamat, that of Soundress. Those were the days when well-intentioned, self-proclaimed social workers organized song competitions in Mon Cine and Olympia cinema halls. The audience of neighbouring villages filled the halls to capacity as they would expect literary criticism of a high level from the panel of jury all well-versed in hindi: Mr Ragen, Mr Toolseea and Pandit Bheeka. There followed invitations to perform in a host of musical programmes on radio and subsequently on TV. Gian had by then written innumerable songs in bhojpuri, sang on several occasions in programmes put up by Sabhas, received public recognition and innumerable trophies kept delicately in a piece of furniture, enn vitrinn, a show case, ordered for that purpose.

From the thatched hut of his native village to his adopted abode of serenity in Helvetia, Gian has covered a long way. He has been a jury member for Holi Chawtal Competition organized by the Saint Pierre Ekta Sangh and on the occasion of the Camp Thorel UNESCO Club 12th year anniversary organized by the Human Service Trust. He has also been recognized for his promotion of bhojpuri. Later he put pen to paper in a special way: writing his own songs and gifting his voice to a monumental production: an 8-song CD entitled Kajra Ke Mol. Gian had travelled to India on his own, met with and obtained the precious guidance of a master, Anup Jalota. He is all praise for the Bhajan Samraat, emperor of devotional songs.

Gian too is an emperor in his own way. His home is spick and span. At the very least, everyone knows him and addresses him with a certain awe. Just to say he is very careful about his hair dressing as the professional moves to his place rather than the other way around. This local legend has travelled several times to India, to Europe, Seychelles and Rodrigues. The tunes of yonder days revolve in melody, never in melancholy and always peacefully.