The Language of Tabla: A Practice-Led Study of Tabla Bols and Their Function in Hindustani Music

The Tabla is an international symbol of music making and rhythm. Its imagery is iconic: two small hand drums angled ergonomically, usually one wooden and one metal, spotting a captivating black dot, a syahi, on the heads. The sound is even more recognizable, emanating a pure, resonant sound from the dayan (the high drum) and a low, pitch-bending bass from the bayan (the low drum). The tabla dates back over 400 years, originating from the older pakhawaj drum, which is known for a stronger, rougher sound compared to the tabla's more pure and exact articulation.

The Tabla is learned through a tradition called Guru-Shishya Parampara, a student-teacher relationship where a student ideally spends many years studying under a single guru. When the guru decides the shishya is ready, they give them permission to teach and perform that particular gharana, or school of tabla playing. Today, six main gharanas exist: Dilli, Lucknow, Ajrara, Farrukhabad, Benares, and Punjab (DigiTabla, n.d.).

At the heart of this tradition are bols, the different named sounds one can achieve by striking the tabla. For instance, a dead stroke in the middle of the dayan is called te, while a sharp stroke on the rim produces a sound called na. Using these bols, one can both play and speak compositions. In fact, one cannot call themselves a tabla player unless they are able to speak the compositions they are playing, as that is primarily how they are learned.

There is a phrase in music pedagogy: “if you can say it, you can play it.” It describes the remarkable ability we have to perform a musical phrase if we can vocalize it first. I use vocalizations when teaching percussion, encouraging students to beat-box beats or find ways to say complex rhythms. Many musical aspects are hidden in our speech, such as inflection, tone, and rhythm. The scholar Kofi Agawu believes that music and language are not two separate things, but different ends of a spectrum with the value criteria being aesthetics versus semantics (Agawu 2003, 74). Tabla bols are a perfect example of this, an art form branching between language and music. Bols serve functions at multiple levels: as technical notation, as a pedagogical tool, and as a stand-alone form of musical, non-semantic poetry.

I have been learning music for over half my life, starting in middle school band and now working towards a PhD. I have always been fascinated with organology and the vast expanse of music traditions that exist from around the globe. After being exposed to tabla by my teachers, Professor Shawn Mativetsky (McGill University) and Professor Patrick Fitzgibbon (Oakland University), I decided to take lessons in January of ‘23. That is when I discovered that the world of tabla is so vast, one could study something new every day and still never call themselves a master. Learning tabla has led me to many opportunities, from incorporating it into multi-percussion setups for dance classes to performing and recording with it. The rhythmic practice I have absorbed has transferred to many other parts of my musicianship.

The bols that will be analyzed in this study are as follows: Dha, Dhin, Dhet, Ta, Na, Tin, Ne, Nu, Te, Ti, Tirakita, Kra, Kre, Ge, Trekke, and Diri. These sounds are produced using a number of different techniques and can be separated into categories based on their articulation. The recitation of these bols is called padhant. I have made a table of the categorization of sounds here: 
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1AfuXmZ2j1hUmCx2_FCBPcnoHck5HRLtvNgUkyQrssqU/edit?usp=sharing

Bols are not an exact one-to-one correspondence with the sounds produced on the drums; they can change for a few different reasons, namely in reference to speed and history. Reciting tetekete is far too articulatorily cumbersome for pronunciation at high speeds. Therefore, manipulating sounds to accurately represent these compositions is crucial. Tirakita is an example of a bol that has evolved for this reason, demonstrating the playing of the tabla directly affecting the spoken bols. This is also done for the bol Dhin, which, at high speeds, will be pronounced as Dhee, in the instance of Dhee Ge Dhin Na Tirakita Dhin Na Dha Ge Dha Dhee Ge Tin Na Na, as opposed to Dhin Ge Dhin Na Tirakita Dhin Na Dha Ge Dha Dhin Ge Tin Na Na.  
As for the historic aspect, the origins of Hindustani classical percussion are tied to the musical recitation of the Vedas. Compositions exist that come directly from ancient poetry. Phrases like tarajukata or tabitatarara are direct remnants of ancient prayers that have been translated to the tabla. These would be articulated as Ta Tin Ta Ta Te Ta Te on the tabla. This shows the cyclical nature of the art form, where the bols can influence the articulation of the tabla from the other way around.

The bol system is a complete version of a tabla composition, unifying the comprehension of the music, the articulation of the music through physical embodiment, and the vocal expression of the composition. The bols and the tabla serve each other to fully represent the complexity of Hindustani classical percussion. Therefore, it is necessary to be able to fluently recite the bols as well as you perform them to claim full understanding.

This proves that tabla playing is an art form and tradition that is alive and well, constantly evolving. Bols are a stand-alone art form that complements the tabla and reveals the complexity of Hindustani music. Future study could be done into a comparison of bols from different gharanas, how bols relate to one’s native language, and how they have evolved over time. 

I personally love tabla, and this is one of the aspects I appreciate the most, so I thought a short written excerpt of my experiences would be a great way of connecting my experiences with other students, and maybe encouraging some of you to pick up the tabla because after all, you don't even need the drums to learn how to play. If you can say it, you can play it!