मैं हिंदू हूँ, मैं कहता हूँ
तुम मुझको क्या बाँटोगे
हम पहले से ही बँटे हुए हैं
पाखंड के चार घरानों में
एक घराना मन का है
दूजा मेरे तन का है
तीजा सिर्फ अल्फ़ाज़ बना,
चौथा शव-दान का है
द्वार खड़े नंदी ने बोला
कब तक ढोंग रचाओगे
मेरा भगवान नहीं उठेगा
ऐसे गीत जो गाओगे
दिखावा छोड़ो, काम करो
मूर्ति नहीं, इंसान बनो
छूट तुम्हें है चुनने की
तुम दुष्ट बनो या ज्ञान बनो
और मैं कहता हूँ, पाप करो
हर रण में अपना नाम करो
जब थक जाओ अपनों से हारे
तब गंगा में स्नान करो
मैं हिंदू हूँ, मैं कहता हूँ
— siva
जन्म के बाद दादी ने
कहा,
सब कुछ है तुम्हारे पास,
बस तुम्हें संभालना है।
गाँव से शहर,
शहर से बड़े शहर तक घुमाया गया,
पढ़ाया गया लिखाया गया —
और हर बार जताया गया।
दो भाइयों की निजी लड़ाई
में,
कुछ बच्चे हमेशा पिसे,
माँ, चाची का प्यार मिला—
पर वो भी कहाँ अपने हिस्से का था।
आज शायद वो सफ़र खत्म हुआ,
घरवालों
की चाल थी—जो भी हुआ
अपनी समझी थी ज़िंदगी—निकली उधार की,
एहसानों
का कर्ज़ है—और मैं उसमें डूबा हुआ
अब किराया बकाया है उस ज़िंदगी का,
अब किराया बकाया है मेरे बचपन का—
भरूँगा उम्र देकर।
-siva
So the company has finally started moving.
Under February’s Favourite, things are in place now—songs are out, registrations are done, and everything needed to collect royalties as both an artist and a publisher is set. GST, banking, all the formalities… handled. Along with that, FF is also organizing shows for Shivani ma’am, and we’ve started distributing music for other artists too.
That side feels steady.
Now, it’s about me.
I’ve come back to making music with Sahil—sitting, building songs from scratch, taking our time with it. I also spent some time understanding social media properly—what feels real, what connects—so we’re planning things better now. Recording, putting out reels, and quietly working on originals alongside it. I have a few shows lined up this month as well.
There’s a sense of direction now.
It feels like I’ve entered a new phase—where all the noise has settled a bit, and I can finally focus on what I’ve always wanted to do.
Just… create music.
The performances were on 14thh and 15th. I sang “Tujhko Dariyadili Ki” by Jagjit Singh ji and “Duniya Kisi Ke Pyaar Mein” by Mehdi Hasan ji. My only fear was staying in taal with the tabla. That fear has always been there. Every time I’ve practiced before on my tabla app, there has been at least one moment where I slipped out of beat.
But not that day.
For the first time in my life, I sat with the manual tabla and sang — and it flowed. Effortlessly. Naturally. As if something was holding it together beyond me. I was honestly astonished. That day, I truly understood what people mean when they speak of God’s grace and the blessings of their gurus. I used to wonder why traditional musicians speak like that. Now I know — because sometimes, it genuinely feels like something greater steps in when your own belief wavers.
When I wasn’t fully believing in myself, my teachers’ faith carried me. It felt like the art wasn’t just mine anymore — it was being protected. Maybe I’m exaggerating a little. But when something you’ve always struggled with suddenly aligns perfectly on the most important day, it feels sacred. Everyone was proud. I was happy. And more than that — I was grateful.
The next day was the Shivratri sound healing gathering. I chanted mantras and sang bhajans. That too flowed smoothly. I’ll be sharing some videos from it soon.
After that intense spiritual and musical high, I shifted into full focus mode for my label release on 20th February. It was hectic — constant calls, research, coordination, figuring out distribution, building systems. But now, we have a website, a working distribution model, and production in place.
We are officially an independent music label.
And I’ve already submitted songs for release.
The most beautiful part? I’m learning every single day. In music. In faith. In business.
The process itself is becoming the reward.
Tomorrow, I’ll be performing a ghazal at an event organised by Dhaivat Aarambh Academy, under the guidance of my gurus. They gave me this opportunity to learn and grow, and I’m deeply grateful for it. This will be my first time performing with a harmonium and tabla. I’ve never actually sat down with a manual tabla before, so this feels like a new beginning in many ways.
I’ve been practising a few ghazals by Jagjit Singh ji and Mehdi Hassan sahab. There’s a quiet excitement mixed with uncertainty—and I think that’s exactly how it should be. Let’s see how it goes.
This academy event brings together every student and teacher on the same stage, and being a part of that feels special. The very next day, I’ll be performing at a sound healing session, where the focus shifts from performance to presence—through alaaps and bhajans.
The day after that, the work behind the scenes begins again. I have meetings with two music distributors, where I’ll be finalising distribution for my label. Later, Tumul—my friend and co-founder of February’s Favourite—and I will sit down to complete our website.
20th February marks the official launch of the label.
Right now, this is the rhythm of life.
There are five artists, including myself, with songs ready for release. Over the coming month, three to four events are already lined up, all presented by the company.
I’m looking forward to every bit of work ahead..
This year, I released a test song through a different distributor—purely to understand how the system works from the inside. Since then, I’ve been learning deeply about how to run a label and eventually function as a distributor myself. I now have a few songs lined up to be released under the label for other artists, and the website should most likely be ready by February.
This past week has been especially enriching. I met some wonderful people from Theatre and Sound healing, and found myself immersed in very different yet connected dimensions of music. Today marked my first sound healing session as a musician—I chanted mantras and performed Bol alaap for the participants. The space was deeply resonant; the aura felt healing not just for them, but for me as well.
Yesterday, I attended a performance where theatre, Kathak, and singing were seamlessly woven into a single act. Even the anchoring was part of the theatrical narrative. It was something I’ve always imagined creating myself, and witnessing someone execute it so beautifully was incredibly inspiring. After the show, we had an Informal Baithak where I sang a few ghazals. The response was warm—people were impressed, exchanged numbers, and now we’re in the process of creating something similar together. It reminded me of the Bombay Diaries act I once did, but on a much more evolved scale.
I’ve also been moving from studio to studio, trying to find work. The creative community here still struggles with networking and communication—there isn’t a strong, reliable ecosystem in place. The lack of connection often holds back genuine collaboration.
And yes, The curse of the 2nd prevailed once again—I secured second position in my sound engineering course at Delhi University. The certificate was awarded during the Basant Festival at the faculty.
Overall, everything feels like it’s in motion—song releases, performances, collaborations, the company, the vision. But still - let's see.
You’ll know the boy who always dreamed of hearing his own voice on streaming platforms, just like every other artist out there.
I released a song—not to chase numbers or validation—but to test the system. To understand how things actually work. Every step. Every procedure.
And one thing became very clear to me: nobody is going to tell you everything. You have to be eager to learn. You have to search, fail, ask, observe, and try again.
Today, that song exists on Spotify and Apple Music. It may not be a big moment for the world, but it is a meaningful one for me. I’m not satisfied—yet—but I am genuinely happy.
This is a stepping stone. A reminder of why I started, and how far I’ve come.
There’s nothing to prove to anyone. Just gratitude for the journey, and respect for the process.
Apple music