Dealing with people, running a business,
being an artist, gaining knowledge, earning money —
life happened.
I don't miss anything from my past,
this is all I ever wanted, just on a bigger scale —
eventually, that's going to happen.
Between this chaotic and unjust life around you,
something beautiful is being made, something to be proud of —
trust me, it happens.
The past few weeks have been a mix of progress and setbacks.
One music video for a client, shot and edited by February's Favourite, has been successfully completed and delivered. There was also additional work that came through - two video shoots and multiple music releases. The shoots were completed, but due to a few ego-related issues, I couldn't receive proper credit for my contribution. I have no complaints about it anymore. In the end, I believe it was their loss, not mine.
On the brighter side, I am currently in discussions with a few artists who want to record and release their music through us. It feels good to see people placing their trust in our work while I continue managing February's Favourite and everything that comes with it.
Personally, life has been a little chaotic lately. Because of a few unforeseen circumstances, I haven't been able to take my classes as regularly as I would have liked.
A week ago, I had a severe wax blockage in my ears—to the extent that I could barely hear properly. For someone working with music every day, that was genuinely frightening. Naturally, it affected my ability to mix songs. Thankfully, that issue has now been resolved, and everything is back to normal.
My voice, however, still needs attention. Between the changing weather, constant talking, and singing, it hasn't been as supportive as it should be. I need to be more conscious about my vocal health, speak only when necessary, and get my voice checked from time to time. My riyaaz has also not been as consistent as it should be, and that is entirely my responsibility. Discipline is something I need to reclaim.
Not everything has been difficult, though.
One of the biggest milestones has been Bombay Diaries. I have finally found all the principal characters for the production—Rajesh, Sunita, and the Narrator. They are currently working individually on understanding and developing their characters, and we are set to begin rehearsals next week. Seeing this project slowly come to life has been deeply satisfying.
Another milestone is something I have been waiting for, for a very long time. As planned, Sahil and I have finally started working on my original music. By the grace of God, everything has been falling into place beautifully. The first song is almost production-ready, and after one or two more sessions, we'll move into the recording stage.
क्या लिखूँ, सच कह दूँ या झूठ लिखूँ
वो पैर पड़ गया मेरे, खाने एक निवाले को।
कहता — "सुबह से कुछ नहीं खाया साहब।"
झूठ लिखूँ तो कल ही खाना चुरा के खा रहा था।
क्या लिखूँ, सच कह दूँ या झूठ लिखूँ
वो बोली — "भैया, एक चप्पल दिला दो।"
नंगे पैर चल नहीं पाते।
झूठ लिखूँ तो आज ही तपती सड़क पे कलाबाज़ियाँ दिखा रही थी।
क्या लिखूँ, सच कह दूँ या झूठ लिखूँ
वो ताली बजा के पैसा माँगे, बोले — "आशीर्वाद मिलेगा।"
कहते, तरक़्क़ी होगी, घरवाले आगे बढ़ेंगे।
झूठ कहूँ तो उसका अपना घर जूझ रहा था।
अब बोलो, क्या लिखूँ, सच लिखूँ या झूठ लिखूँ।
आँखों से जो देखा या मन से जो महसूस किया।
ये मन का देखा सच है,
या आँखों का फ़साना।
ये सच की कोई साज़िश थी,
या झूठ का कोई बहाना।
क्या लिखूँ? सच कह दूँ या झूठ लिखूँ।
— सिवा
The poem isn't really about truth vs. lie.
It's about surface vs. context.
The "jhuth" isn't a lie at all. It's the other
half of the truth.
Art, and its artists, take on their own character — true across every art form. The person is always separate from his art. But the ones who dissolve their personality into their art, so that the way they live also reflects what they create — that's a true artist right there.
I haven't been able to achieve that, because I don't think I have knowledge considerable enough to call myself an artist. I'm still learning, still trying to gain the confidence to use that word for myself.
Being in this art form, in this community, I've met a lot of people and observed their behavior, and I must say — not everyone who excels in their art is a human being capable of the honesty and warmth that their art carries. Being an outsider to these systems and everything that comes with them, I had this notion that every artist is a good man or woman — honest, lovable, someone who brings warmth to their family. But being involved, I was shocked to find that this isn't the case.
People who inherited this art from their ancestors, as a business passed down through generations to carry the legacy forward — they don't carry themselves the way an artist should. Art is the most heartwarming, soulful community of people, and at the same time, the darkest. The sun and the black hole, in the same place.
My notion of artists, and of art itself, has changed a lot because of this. This industry isn't easy, and I've come to believe no one should try to form a fully trusting bond with anyone in it. Everyone is, in some way, selfish — it's give and take. No one will make you better than themselves.
The most jealous people I've met are artists — jealous of every other artist around them- turns out talent doesn't exempt you from being human. Being an artist myself, I'm trying to understand that. I had never once separated the artist from the art. But I think sometimes I should — even if it feels like a betrayal of who I am, like I'm drifting from my own beliefs.
The people who gave me this realization are people I looked up to, people I took care of, as I should have. I don't want to get involved in any of it, and I don't want it to disrupt what I believe — but I also don't want to run away from reality.
I think I forgot to mention the time I met Hariharan ji — the ghazal maestro of our time.
I genuinely didn't think I'd be that starstruck - But I was wrong.
It happened in February. Hariharan ji had an entire world launching that day — a book, an album, and a ghazal show, all on one single evening. My ma'am was in talks with him for her PhD interview on Ustad Ghulam Mustafa Khan Sahab — who was Hari ji's ustad, and also my guruji's nana. That's the thing about these gharanas — the threads run deep, and they connect people across generations in the most beautiful ways.
So sir and ma'am were invited to the event. Two days before, while the three of us were eating out, sir finished talking to ma'am, turned to me, and casually said he was giving me a birthday present — he was taking me along to meet Hariharan ji.
The day came. We went. We were called into the green room where he was mid-shoot, recording a background report for the upcoming launches. We waited. And then, when he wrapped his shot, he turned around — warm, present, genuinely happy to see sir and ma'am.
I took his blessings. And then I just... stood there. Watching. Taking in the aura of the man. There's no other word for it — aura. It was my first time being in the presence of a legend of that scale, and all my confident "I won't be that astonished" energy dissolved the moment I was actually in that room.
It was quiet, brief and nice. The kind of moment that doesn't announce itself as a memory — but becomes one anyway.
Artists practicing any form of art are, to me, the truest followers of God — the Creator. Because one thing we know for certain is that everything we see, touch, feel, or hear was created by someone or something. And human beings being capable of creating something of their own feels like the purest form of worship. At least, that is what I choose to believe.
And what feels strange to me is that in India — a country filled with the temples, rituals, music, dance, sculptures, and spirituality — art and artists are still often disrespected. The same people who question an artist’s worth will later listen to music to heal themselves, pray before handmade idols, celebrate through dance, wear handcrafted culture, and emotionally survive because of art.
The contradiction is astonishing.
Art is one of the only things that truly connects human beings to themselves. To their inner world. To their god. The process of creating art is introspection itself. And maybe that is why art has always been controlled, diluted, or looked down upon by powerful systems — because self-aware people are difficult to control.
That is also why most artists are rebellious. Not because they hate society, but because they understand and feel things at a depth most people never allow themselves to reach.
As per my belief, there is only one true god — frequency. Everything exists on vibration. Every sound, every emotion, every atom, every living being. Whether you call it energy, frequency, resonance, or string theory, existence itself feels musical in nature.
And when you become internally aligned with that vibration, you stop searching for god outside yourself. You realize the connection was always within you.
You are the angel.
You are the creator.
You are the god you were searching for.
सा ही रब है,
रे है दाता।
गा से सब है,
म से माता।
प को प्यारा,
ध का धागा।
नि क्या जाने,
सा का साझा।
Untempled :
The person who walked out of the unspoken agreement — the one that says God is out there, God is above you, God must be approached through the right building, the right priest, the right ritual, the right language, the right caste, the right hour, the right offering — not in anger, not in atheism, but in a deeper kind of faith, one that no institution can contain or validate. The agreement that says you are a seeker. Always a seeker. Never the source.
I recently took on a new project from an artist to distribute their songs and produce their videos. One song has been delivered, and the album cover and video production for one song has been completed.
On the release front, I am putting out my Guruji's new EP — "The Best of Ghulam Hasan Khan 2026" — on 5th June. Following that, on 6th June, Sir's podcast with Taal Tattva is lined up on their channel, and they were more than happy to have us. We will also be using this as an opportunity to advertise the company and promote the Extended Playlist.
The Nashist project has wrapped up — audio and video editing is done and delivered. The live album is now ready to go and has been sent for release on DSPs.
On a personal front, my own project — Bombay Diaries, a musical story— has moved into the theatrical phase, and rehearsals will be starting soon.
I also have an exciting collaboration coming up with Vihanga Rukshan, a Sri Lankan dancer, my big brother, and the first real artist I witnessed seriously and wholeheartedly pursuing a career in his art — someone who truly stands among the best in his field. The project involves recording ghazals for him to create videos on. He initiated this for my benefit, so that I have some recordings and an album to show for my work and get a bit of promotion along the way.
Lastly, February's Favourite has expanded into the IT sector. My co-founder takes on freelance projects for websites and apps, and to avoid complications that come without proper agreements, we are now formalising this work under the February's favourite umbrella.
