Artist Aabha Hanjura tells Sakshi Sharma that her fifth single, Nundbane, from the album Sounds of Kashmir, is about love that is sung in the Valley. This is her attempt to connect with her roots and popularise the folklore she grew up with
Snow-capped mountains fronted by chinar trees, saffron fields, Kahwah tea, mirror-still lakes and a sumptuous autumn season, Kashmir is a blessed land. One that some had to leave and could never return to. This angst birthed the artiste in Aabha Hanjura.
Says she, “When I did visit my home in Kashmir, I got a new perspective on life. I grew up in Jammu, which was unstable in its own way. There were curfews, bandhs, bomb blasts and a policed regime. My family was forced to flee like thousand others in 1990. But even then it was not as intense as Kashmir. I was too young to understand the circumstances, so I grew up oblivious to the political and emotional realities of the situation. The pain was felt strongly by my parents, grandparents and those who were of an impressionable age to process the situation. I saw pain in my grandmother’s and father’s eyes who used to miss Kashmir a lot. But they never stopped rebuilding from scratch.”
When Aabha moved out to pursue higher education and interacted with people from different states, people started stereotyping her and asking cliché questions.
“A few years ago when I went to Kashmir after having lived in a ‘normal’ city like Bengaluru, I went as somebody who had seen both sides of the story. When we visited our home, the one my father built with his sweat, blood and tears, a lot of memories came alive. It was a bit surreal that somebody else lives there now — a kind of a bitter sweet experience. Along with that, I also realised that the place has some sort of pain looming in the environment. I interacted with a lot of people there and realised that the pain was a common denominator for all of us. We all suffered in our own ways and everything was so beautiful, yet painful,” she tells us.
This inspired her to create art that would possibly change the dialogue on Kashmir and also bring her a few steps closer to the roots. The idea for her first album, Sounds Of Kashmir, was born then. “I believe that when your roots are cut in front of you, you try harder to grow them back. This album is thus my little love letter to Kashmir. It’s something I’ve created with hope and love in my heart for the Valley’s sound to travel outside Kashmir. Hopefully, it resonates all over the world,” adds she. Recently, she has come out with her fifth single from this album — Nundbane. Excerpts:
What is the meaning and significance of Nundbane? Whom would you attribute it to?
Nundbane literally means the apple of my eye or my beautiful one. This is a sweet romantic song about love that is sung in the valleys of Kashmir. It was written by this poet called Mehmood Gami and is an ultimate ode to love. It is attributed to everybody whom I love — my partner, parents, family and friends. During these tough times of crisis, all of us have realised the value of love a bit more than we used to earlier. I feel we have come closer to our loved ones. So this is a song which you can essentially dedicate to anybody you love, even if you are far away, just like I am to Kashmir.
The song is the fifth single from your forthcoming album, Sound of Kashmir. What does the album aim to achieve?
The album aims to pay tribute to Kashmir’s folklore. It also aims to stir a new dialogue about the land and bring people closer to its rich culture, language and music. I hope to take that mountain sound to the world stage, and hopefully, people will enjoy music and always remember it.
Recently, in an interview, you had said that the song was shot in Jaipur as it is culturally vibrant and it has that ‘khushboo’ of Indian folk. But the song primarily deals with the love and romance of Kashmir...
Well, the whole song has been created sonically in a folk fusion style, which marries elements of Indian folk like dholak and tabla, along with electric and acoustic guitar. All these are the very contemporary elements and on top of it, there is rustic Kashmiri saaz like Rubab, Tumbaknari and Santoor. So, the whole sonic identity of the song borrows from the Indian folk vibe. When I heard the song, it took me to a space which had to be rich. So I tried staying away from the obvious choice of Kashmir, which I would have loved to, but then there would have been no contrast. I also love doing visual storytelling in the songs. Even if you see my song, Hukus Bukus or Roshewalla, I have done that. I am always experimenting with visual storytelling in my music videos as that is a part of the process that excites me as an artist.
How did you manage to focus on Kashmiri culture and traditions with Jaipur as the backdrop?
I think the idea was to bring out a fun contrast, which has actually come out in the video and people are enjoying it. I was really trying to do something different and push the envelope a little; the marriage has worked out pretty well in its own unique way.
The rustic folk of Kashmir and Rajasthani folk-rock ensemble are two different genres. How challenging was it to combine the two and create something rooted?
Yes, they are completely two different genres. Honestly, combining them was not challenging as we knew we wanted something very different. As an independent artiste, one’s endeavour is to do something that is beyond the ordinary and that is what I always try to do. I approach music with the idea of blending cultures. And this was an effort in the same direction. It was appreciated all over as a lot of people from different parts of the world could relate to this in their own way, so I guess that’s what we tried to achieve.
Given the political unrest in Kashmir, how do you think such songs and lyrics are important for people to keep their spirits high?
Yes, there is political unrest in Kashmir. Also, we all are pulled down in our own ways in the post-pandemic world. I think the job of an artiste is to create songs about hope so that people can resonate with their music. Nundbane is a happy bright song, about a universal emotion, so I hope it brings a smile on people’s faces and cheers them up.
How smooth or difficult it is to create music on something so relatable and personal?
Sometimes it’s smooth and sometimes very difficult as you have to detach yourself from the past experiences to give a fresh narrative. As a songwriter, you have to let go of some perspectives, which is not easy because it is too personal. This is a difficult battle altogether, but this is the only way I can do things which are organic and real. I have to keep my music authentic. So I have tried to keep that part of the process smooth.
Do you want to use your art to tell the story of Kashmir aloud that can have a far reaching impact?
Chalo Chinaro Ke Gharo is a song that tells the story of thousands of Kashmiris, including mine. It is told in a way that you see the story of separation and reunion, all engulfed in this magical world of a fairy tale. This is the way I want to tell these stories but the whole thing has to be very organic and real. I don’t run away from telling a political story. I come from a conflict-ridden state (now UT) and some of those influences will naturally creep into my art and music because this is what I am. But I always stick to things flowing naturally and never do it just for the sake of doing it.
What are your future projects? Do you have a similar approach to any of your other works too?
The idea is to finish this album and move on to some new projects. There are some interesting collaborations in the pipeline and varied directions that I am taking with my music. I sing in different languages, so I am excited about exploring all that. I also sing in Punjabi, Dogri and Hindi. There is a lot of music waiting, I don’t try to limit myself as an artiste or put myself in a box. I will keep on doing music in as many ways and expressions as they come.
