It is never easy to describe a two-decade-long journey, especially one that is still ongoing. Today, Indian Ocean, the band in which I play, is called various things by various people, but as perhaps best put by Amit Kilam, our drummer-vocalist-percussionist, we are at base the best accompanying artists for each other. As none of us was ever technically very competent, this is a band whose sum is truly greater than its parts.
It all started with Susmit Sen (guitar) and Asheem Chakravarty (tabla/percussion/vocals) as far back as 1983 or so, jamming on some elementary compositions by Susmit. After experimenting with various musicians, Indian Ocean was formed in 1990 as an almost completely instrumental band. The group already had a unique sound, given that Susmit's guitar sounded like nobody else and, combined with Asheem's highly unconventional tabla, produced a very Indian yet fresh sound. I joined a year later and played a significant role in incorporating vocals into the band's sound. Asheem had a wonderful voice yet was not singing, and I definitely wanted to sing. And so, shortly thereafter, Indian Ocean's first song was recorded – 'Village Damsel', with folk-based lyrics in Bengali sung by Asheem. Asheem was never very clear about where he got the lyrics from, but thought that they might have been from something he heard in the background score of a Gautam Ghose film.
All these developments notwithstanding, something still was not gelling for Indian Ocean. Amit joined us in 1994 when our former drummer, Shaleen, left the band to work on film music in Madras. Shaleen left because, frankly, nothing much was happening with the band at the time. In the first five years of its existence, Indian Ocean had played only seven concerts, and the four of us made less money from concerts than we had spent travelling to practice. Yes, we had recorded an album, and had been told that we had sold more cassettes than any other Indian band while receiving some great reviews, but this had not translated into more concert opportunities. As a result, all of us did music for TV serials, documentary films and ad jingles. I also used to play with another band and with a 'jagran party' – a group that performs at popular all-night community celebrations in North India – the latter fetching the princely sum of INR 250 per night.
All through this, I was deeply involved with the activism of the Narmada Bachao Andolan (NBA). A lot of this work was in Delhi, interacting with the press, bringing out a newsletter, and analysing the voluminous technical information on the Sardar Sarovar project. But every now and then I would go to the Narmada Valley itself, in the thick of the struggle, and it was this experience that was to transform my life. Some of the first 'political' songs performed by Indian Ocean came out of my time spent in the valley.