Askari Naqvi’s Soz Khwani at the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art was an evening of deep reflection, blending history and emotion in a powerful tribute to MF Husain’s legacy, writes TEAM VIVA
Some evenings stay in the mind long after they’re over, moments that leave a mark on the heart. The recent Soz Khwani performance by Askari Naqvi at the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art was one such evening. From the moment the audience settled, there was a visible sense of anticipation, a shared expectation of something extraordinary.
Naqvi took the stage with a quiet, humble presence, his demeanor reflecting the deep responsibility of carrying forward a tradition so rich and meaningful. As he began to sing, it became immediately clear this was more than just a performance. Soz Khwani, with its melodies and poetic verses, is an ancient practice of remembering grief, a way of turning sorrow into something sacred. Naqvi’s voice seemed to carry not just notes, but stories, memories and emotions, each phrase a bridge connecting the audience to the distant, tragic fields of Karbala.
There was a depth in his voice, a gravity that pulled everyone into a shared experience of loss. This was not just a musical event; it was a collective meditation on the nature of grief and remembrance. The room seemed to hold its breath, each note touching something deep and universal within every listener. For those moments, the boundaries between past and present, between individuals, seemed to dissolve.
This event was part of a broader collaboration with the Italian Cultural Centre, leading up to an exhibition in Venice celebrating M.F. Husain’s works, including his evocative piece “The Battle of Karbala.” Husain, with his bold and expressive strokes, seemed to find a perfect companion in Naqvi’s singing. Both the painter and the singer were speaking the same language of human suffering, resilience and the search for meaning - one through art, the other through voice.
For those present, it wasn’t just an artistic experience but a profound reminder of art’s power to connect people across time and culture. In that room, the sorrow of Karbala became a shared sorrow; the ancient grief felt strikingly contemporary. Observers felt moved by Naqvi’s ability to evoke such raw emotion with such simplicity. It was a powerful illustration of how, in a world so often divided, an evening like this could unite people through a shared feeling.
When the final note faded, a heavy, meaningful silence filled the room. It was a stillness filled with thought, reflection and a quiet peace that comes from touching something eternal. Those present could see that others felt it too - a rare, communal moment of introspection. The subsequent discussion at the Italian Cultural Centre, led by Prof. Chiara Rostagno and Roobina Karode, underscored how art in both Italy and India has long grappled with similar themes: pain, hope and the human condition. It was a reminder that, whether through paintings or poetry, art continues to seek understanding, connection, and meaning.
Reflecting on the evening, it became clear that it was more than a cultural event — it was an experience that resonated deeply. It was a powerful reminder of how a simple song sung with sincerity can reach across barriers, make strangers feel less alone and transform a room into a place of healing.One guest captured the essence of the evening when they remarked, “There was such sadness in his voice, but also such beauty. It made me feel less alone.” And perhaps that is the true purpose of art: to make the vast, complicated world feel a little smaller, a little more connected.
This Soz Khwani left behind more than memories; it left a sense of connection and a quiet peace that continues to resonate. It was an evening to be grateful for, one that reminded everyone present of the power of shared emotion and the beauty of coming together in moments of collective reflection.
Photos: Pankaj Kumar
