https://mumbaimirror.indiatimes.com/others/sunday-read/forever-young/articleshow/131557728.html
It was long past midnight at the wonderfully convivial The Evening Club in Shillong on the weekend before last, when the 79-year-old rocker Lou Majaw segued from his rousing reggae-inflected cover of Bob Dylan’s early 1970s gospel-inflected classic ‘I Shall Be Released’ into his own anthemic original ‘Set Your Soul on Fire’. Until then, the packed-in crowd had been enjoying rapid-fire rollicking versions of Bob Dylan songs, from across the 85-year-old American’s singer-songwriter’s extraordinary career over more than six decades, whose May 24th birthday Majaw has famously publicly celebrated in his hometown in Meghalaya for an astonishing 55 years in a row. But now the veteran turned to his own songbook, and got the audience to get up and dance to what could very easily serve as his personal mantra: “If you cannot be what you want to be, why not try and be just what you are.” Everyone chorused along, “set your soul on fire.” Way beyond the hype – and of late there has been quite a lot of it - Shillong really does have an extraordinary relationship to great music across genres, and especially “western” folk and rock music, along with gospel and the blues. There is truth to all those clichés: aficionados abound, big acts will gig there while skipping the rest of the country, and it can sometimes feel like everyone who crosses paths with you is a guitar virtuoso. This is a deep-rooted scene, substantially anchored in Majaw’s countercultural tenacity, so that his steady rock-and-roll swagger and reverence for Bob Dylan have both been absorbed into the city’s image of itself. Thus, over the course of three birthday concerts in three different venues last month, I heard memorable covers from what seemed like an unending series of acts: Reuben Zionel Lyngdoh’s acutely apropos ‘Masters of War’ at The Evening Club, and Chistopher Dylan Majaw’s tender ‘Make You Feel My Love’. Later, a sweet-voiced first-standard student grooved hard on ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door’ outdoors at Police Bazaar, with hundreds of us swaying to back up the refrains. You can’t imagine anything like this happening elsewhere in. India. In the same way, of course, in hugely significant ways that have never been properly acknowledged, there is only one Lou Majaw. Quite apart from his sincere and intense connection to Dylan, this Khasi legend is the real deal, an unforgettable modern artist. Born into hardscrabble family life in 1947 in Shillong, he recalls becoming galvanized after hearing Elvis Presley and Bill Haley playing from a neighboring house (his own family couldn’t afford a radio). Immediately seeking out the guitar in his school music room, he kept practicing until he could head across to Calcutta to try and make it as a professional musician. In those years he started up many would-be bands, while trying out different dead-end jobs, before heading back to Shillong, where he began celebrating Dylan’s birthday in 1972. Then, in 1977, he founded Great Society, probably still India’s greatest-ever original rock band, and his own legend began to grow. “I've known hunger, since I was ten,” testifies Majaw in his moving autobiographical song ‘Sea of Sorrow’. He says that “loneliness was my good friend. I learnt to smile, when I feel sad, and the good times turnin' bad. But I'm on the other side now, across the sea of sorrow. Yes, I can see the light now, I know which way the wind blows.” This is the hard-won wisdom of an artist who has finally made peace with the world, and found fulfilment by staying true to himself. It is an infectious, inspirational example lived out in public, and an entire ecosystem of younger artists and musicians is continuing to build on those foundations in new and beautiful ways in Shillong. When this whole Dylan tradition first started, it was an unknown paying tribute to a global star, but 55 years later they’re both icons. And there can only be universal joy they’re both still rocking as hard as ever. Last month the American turned 85, and next year the Khasi will be 80. You can bet that will be another birthday party to remember.
