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Lou Majaw, Shillong’s Bob Dylan

Lou Majaw: Living by Shillings in Shillong

Shillong’s Bob Dylan: They know him yet they don’t know him!

Stop a 10-year old child on the street in the north-east and ask him about music and he’d most likely sing you a folk or a Bob Dylan song. That’s how deeply percolated is the sense of music in the people of the north-east. It’s no wonder they associate the region with rock music. Ask the same kid on the street how he knows Bob Dylan and he’d have one name on his lips – Lou Majaw. This is a name synonymous with rock ‘n roll for almost 5 decades in the north-east but still rests unnoticed as a wallflower.

Somewhere in 2008, a documentary was made by Shivajee Ashim Das on the North-east Indian band The Great Society, which was uploaded to Youtube. Lou Majaw, one of the pioneers of the rock culture in not only the north-east but all of India was the frontman to this band for a great part of his glory years. In the documentary, when asked to buy a house, Majaw nonchalantly responds, “Where’s the fuckin money man? I’m broke as a fuckin’ dog,” wearing a ridiculing smile on his face. This documentary saw about 7500 views on Youtube.

In his 60s Majaw finds himself making such a statement. He’s not complaining. He’s never complained. The optimism and hope is what’s making him go strong till date. People, on the other hand, are creating a storm in a tea cup when it comes to Amitabh Bachchan’s dedication who gets paid a ginormous sum to deliver “Breathe in a little of Gujarat”. No offence to Mr. Bachchan but what about a man who’s dedicated his life to music and asked for nothing but a conducive environment to play the guitar and sing his songs?

It all started off in boarding school for Majaw. That was when he realized his irreplaceable “romance” for the guitar. As odd as it sounds, he would skip dinner to spend time with the guitar. He would even sleep by it. Erecting concerts to pay tributes to Bob Dylan on May 24 every year since 1972, which happens to be Bob Dylan’s birthday, threw the spotlight on Majaw. In 2011 he organized the biggest Dylan concert with 8 bands from the north-east. He thence came to be described as the “Indian Dylan”, which he completely disregards as a chalk-and-cheese comparison.

A lover of momos and holder of an incomplete academic education degree, Majaw was raised in a not so well off household. He couldn’t afford a guitar. Let alone a guitar, there would be times when he would wait for his father to bring home rice, only rice, and his mother would coax him to go to bed without eating, expecting his father to show up empty handed. But these difficulties never dampened his love affair with music. He even refused handsome salaries for conducting guitar lessons to schools as he felt music was supposed to be for free.

Nagaland Kitchen in Delhi witnessing the love of Dylan

Like Majaw, most musicians of the north-east have been scanty on good fortune when it comes to being satisfactorily rewarded. Ziro Music Festival, whose second edition took place in September this year, usually faces immense pressure from the establishment. What’s surprising is, due to widespread Christianity in the north-east, every child imbibes a grain of gospel music in the school choir. Music runs in their blood. But they still don’t make it to a national level of recognition. What’s stopping them? Is it the disconnect they feel with the rest of India? Or a lack of infrastructure to rise? Answers still remain foggy on that front. Minimal support from the local people, the government and a dearth of venues remains a miniscule gripe of north-easterners.

He played with bands like Blood and Thunder, Supersound Factory and Dynamite Boys in his time.  However, his stint with The Great Society was most highly revered as they dished out tracks like “Sea of Sorrow” that rose to instant fame because of its magic bullet-like connect with the people. In 2012, Majaw even lent his voice to an Assamese song created to send out a message of harmony at a time when Meghalaya and Assam’s borders were at loggerheads. His presence added a Khasi (tribe of Meghalaya) touch to the song to display a sense of unity.

Like timeless rock legend Johnny Cash’s museum that opened in Tennessee in April 2013, Lou Majaw could very well embrace a museum to his own name after 48 years of creating music. Without doubt, his tightly trimmed hot-shorts and his long strands of hair would make the cut to feature for display. And, if good storage accompanies, his vocal cords might be next best thing to showcase, albeit disgusting to look it. Optimism, humility and an aching need to inspire the world with music is something that’s guided Majaw so far.

Lou Majaw at the Ziro Festival

He treats life as a privilege and not as a right. The hair gets thinner, the voice gets hoarser but the willingness to pick up a guitar, strum it and sing a song enthused with positivity never fades. Big birds don’t fit in small cages. They will fly with one wing or fly inverted. But they will not be clamped down. They will fly.

“How many roads must a man walk down/ before they call him a man/ How many seas must a white dove sail/ before she sleeps in the sand.” And it goes on – The long, tireless and tenacious journey of Lou Majaw.

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