I know this because I was that upma hater as a kid...

My mum tried everything to get me to eat it. Some days it was sprinkled with sugar. Other days it came with mango pickle, curd, or coconut chutney. I’d still find a way to leave it on my plate… 🤭

So she started making it the way she’d know I’d like it…

I was obsessed with potatoes as a kid, so she’d add them to my upma. It might sound strange, but potatoes in upma just hit different. Looking back, that was probably the first step towards me making peace with upma… 🙃

Over time, she kept making a few changes here and there. She’d add a few vegetables, play around with the masala, and one day, our regular upma turned into this Masala Kharabath… 😋

If you’ve ever wondered what the difference is, kharabath is basically the masala version of upma. The method stays almost the same as regular upma, but adding vegetables and a few masala ingredients gives it a whole new flavor… ✨

It became a regular breakfast at home and years later, it is still one of the recipes I go back to whenever I want a taste of home… 🥹

And the best part is, you can customize it however you like. Add your favorite vegetables, make it with coconut oil for a temple-style coastal version, cook it with buttermilk instead of water, or swap coriander for dill leaves. Create your own version with whatever you enjoy… 🥰

Also, you don’t even need to make chutney to go with this. Just stir in a spoonful of ghee before serving. Ashte!

If you’ve never enjoyed upma before, give this kharabath a try and I’m sure you’ll be craving it for breakfast every day. 🔥

Happy cooking! 👩🏻‍🍳❤️

MASALA KHARABATH RECIPE (Serves 2🍽️)

1. 🍳 Heat 4 tablespoons of oil. Once hot, splutter ½ teaspoon mustard seeds, 1 tablespoon urad dal, and 1 tablespoon chana dal. Add 2 sprigs of curry leaves and 10 spicy green chillies (adjust to your spice preference).

2. ✨ My secret ingredients: Add 1 small cinnamon stick and 2 cloves.

3. 🧅 Add 1 thinly sliced medium onion and sauté until soft.

4. 🥕 OPTIONAL: If you’re adding vegetables, this is the time! I love using finely chopped carrots, beans, potatoes, and green capsicum. About 1 small bowl in total is more than enough. Sauté on a high flame for a minute.

🌱 TIP: During avarekai season, skip the vegetables and add hitikavare kalu instead. It’s my favorite way to make this!

5. 🍅 Add 1 finely chopped small tomato and cook until the oil separates. (If you’re not using vegetables, add the tomato right after the onions.)

6. 🧂 Add salt and ¼ teaspoon turmeric powder. Mix well.

7. 🌿 Add chopped dill leaves and sauté for a minute.

8. 🌾 Add 200 g roasted rava (suji) and mix until it’s coated well with the masala.

🛒 TIP: You can use pre-roasted rava from the store, or dry roast regular rava at home. (Let it cool completely before storing or using it in the recipe.)

9. 💧 Pour in hot water while stirring continuously to avoid lumps. Don’t use cold water. Hot water gives the kharabath a much better texture.

🚨 Remember: The rava-to-water ratio is 1:3.

🥛TIP: You can also use buttermilk instead of water to make majjige upma.

10. 🥥 Add a handful of grated coconut and mix everything together.

11. 🍋 Once it starts to thicken, squeeze in a little lemon juice. (Don’t add too much, or it’ll turn sour.)

12. ⏳ Cover and cook on a low flame for 5 minutes, until the kharabath is light and fluffy.

Finish with 1 tablespoon of ghee, give it a gentle mix, and serve hot! ❤️✨

If you’d like to see how I make it, you can watch the reel below ⬇️

You’ve probably had spinach a hundred ways. But not like this… 👀

I hated greens as a kid and just the color of a green curry was enough to put me off and I’d refuse to eat it… 🤢

My mum tried everything she could to get me to eat my greens 😅 I grew up watching Popeye, and every time he ate 🌿 spinach, she'd point at the TV and tell me, “See? Popeye eats spinach!” 💪

But nope… even Popeye, The Sailor Man couldn't convince little me to eat my greens 😂

So my mum started making this palak curry and it’s one of those dishes I’ve grown extremely fond of… 🥹❤️

It tastes so good and once you try this, you may never make palak curry any other way again… 🤯

This curry tastes best with mango pickle, but when mangoes are in season, I love eating it with this pachadi made with Totapuri mango… 🥭

All you need to do is smash it with a stone pestle, sprinkle some chilli powder and salt, then lightly smash it again, you’re good to go! 🌶️🧂

Eat it with hot rice, ghee and palak curry, it tastes out of this world… 🍽️

Whether you’re someone who loves palak 🌿 or, like me as a kid, saw something green and immediately lost your appetite 😅 I really hope you give this curry a try…

It’s a recipe I grew up eating, and one that has become so special to me over the years… 😊

I’ve tried to explain every step as simply and clearly as possible, so you can recreate it at home and hopefully love it as much as I do… 🥹

And if mangoes are in season, please try the little mango pachadi on the side too. Trust me, it makes the whole meal even better! 🔥

Happy cooking! 👩🏻‍🍳❤️

🌿 PALAK CURRY RECIPE (Serves 4 🍽️)

1. 🫘 Cook the Dal

• Wash about 2 handfuls of toor dal really well and soak it for about 10 minutes.

• Pressure cook with enough water for around 2 whistles, or until the dal is soft and well cooked. Transfer it to a pot and set aside.

2. 🌶️ Prepare the Masala

• Bring some water to a boil and add 10 garlic cloves, 1 medium onion and lots of green chillies 🌶️ (I’ve used 12 of the spiciest chillies I could find 😅). And when I say lots, I mean LOTS!

NOTE: Don’t worry - the curry won’t turn out as spicy as you’d expect. Once everything comes together, it actually has a slightly sweet taste.

• Cook the onion, garlic and chillies until soft. Let them cool completely.

3. 🥥 Grind the Masala

• Add the cooked onion, garlic and chillies to a mixer along with a handful of grated coconut. Grind everything into a coarse paste.

NOTE: The paste doesn’t have to be completely smooth, but make sure the chillies, onion and garlic are ground well.

4. 🌿 Cook the Palak

• Bring some water to a boil and add 1 large bunch of spinach, with the leaves picked, washed and cleaned well. Cook until the spinach is soft.

• Let it cool, then coarsely grind the cooked spinach. Don’t turn it into a completely smooth purée - you want a little texture.

5. 🥘 Bring the Curry together

• Add the ground coconut masala to the cooked dal and mix well. Stir in the coarsely ground spinach.

• Place it on the stove and bring the curry to a boil. Add 1 teaspoon of coriander powder and salt to taste. Mix well and let everything cook together.

6. 🔥 Temper the Curry

• Heat some oil and add mustard seeds, cumin seeds, curry leaves and a little asafoetida.

• Once everything starts sizzling, pour the tempering over the curry and mix well. And that’s it! 🌿✨

Serve it with piping hot rice 🍚, a generous spoonful of ghee and mango pickle 🥭

Or, if mangoes are in season, try it with the smashed Totapuri mango pachadi on the side.

One bite and you’ll understand why I love this so much! 🥹🤤❤️

If you'd like to see how I make it, you can watch the reel below ⬇️

These days, we eat out just once a month, usually Korean or Japanese food…

Ironically, it’s often cheaper to eat at a restaurant than to buy every ingredient needed to make those dishes at home… 😅

Besides... no matter how many times I try, I still can’t roll a decent gimbap or sushi… 🤦🏻‍♀️

Over the past few months, our kitchen has slowly become my favourite restaurant… 👩🏻‍🍳

One by one, I’ve recreated many of our go-to comfort meals… I even make my own matcha now! 🍵

But biryani?

That was the one dish I never dared to touch…

It felt almost... sacred. Like one wrong step & I’d end up with a pot of disappointment instead of biryani…

So every month, we’d either head to Meghana Foods on Residency Road or just order it in…

Mostly because my 6-year-old is a biryani addict & loves their Boneless Chicken Biryani…

If you’re visiting Bangalore, you’ve probably heard someone say,

“You HAVE to try Meghana Biryani!” 😂

Or maybe you’ve watched countless Instagram reels convincing you it’s the best biryani in the city…

Then you finally try it... & somehow, you become that person recommending it to everyone else too… 😂

What makes this biryani so memorable is that it isn’t your typical dum biryani…

Instead of cooking the chicken & rice together, it’s served as biryani rice topped with a rich, aromatic chicken gravy filled with tender bite-sized boneless chicken…

The only downside? Ordering it regularly isn’t exactly cheap. By the time it arrives through Swiggy or Zomato, one plate costs us around ₹430 after taxes…

So last month, I finally gathered the courage to make it myself…

I spent some time researching, experimenting & making tiny tweaks to the recipe until it tasted just right… 🍽️

To my surprise, it turned out unbelievably close to the original… 🤯

What shocked me even more was how simple the recipe actually was…

One more dish we can proudly call homemade, knowing exactly what goes into every bite…

And that’s exactly why I wanted to share this recipe with you… 🫶

Whether you’re someone trying to cook more at home, or simply want to recreate a Bangalore favourite, I hope this recipe brings you as much joy as it brought me… 😊

I've tried to explain every step as simply & clearly as possible, so anyone can make it with confidence…

Happy cooking! ❤️

Meghana Style Boneless Chicken Biryani

Before You Start:

💡NOTE: This recipe serves 4 people, making it ideal for sharing around the table.

You’ll be making 4 components:

1. 🌶️ Special Spice Mix

A simple homemade spice blend that’s used throughout the recipe…

2. 🍗 Fried Chicken Kebabs

The chicken is marinated & fried first. These fried chicken pieces are later added to the final chicken gravy…

3. 🍚 Biryani Rice + Biryani Rice Gravy

Basmati rice is cooked separately before being layered with the biryani rice gravy & slow-cooked on dum until perfectly aromatic…

4. 🔥 Chicken Gravy (served on top of the biriyani rice)

This is the restaurant’s signature component - A rich, flavourful gravy made with fried boneless chicken that’s generously served over the biryani rice just before eating…

STEP 1: Make the Special Spice Mix

🌿 Powder these below ingredients! (I crushed them with a mortar & pestle)

• 1 tbsp Sri Lankan cinnamon powder (or a medium sized cinnamon stick)

• 10 cloves

• 4 cardamoms

🪵 Keep this aromatic spice mix aside. You’ll use it in the chicken marinade, biriyani rice & chicken gravies!

STEP 2: Marinate the Chicken

🥣 In a bowl, add:

• 500 g Boneless chicken, cut into bite-sized pieces

• Salt, to taste

• 1 tbsp Kashmiri chilli powder

• 1 tsp Turmeric powder

• ½ tsp Cumin powder

• ¼ tsp Pepper powder

• 1 egg

• A little curd

• 1 tbsp Ginger-garlic & green chilli paste

• 1 tsp Fennel seeds

• 1 tsp of the prepared spice mix

🕐 Mix everything really well & refrigerate for 1 hour.

STEP 3: Cook the Basmati Rice

🍚 Wash & soak 250 g basmati rice for 20 minutes.

💦 Meanwhile boil water with:

• 1 bay leaf

• 2-inch cinnamon stick

• 4 cloves

• 1 cardamom

• Salt, to taste

🥣 Cook rice until 80% done.

✅ Drain & keep the cooked rice aside to cool!

STEP 4: Fry the Chicken

🫕 Heat oil in a kadai. Coat the marinated chicken nicely with 4 tbsp cornflour & fry it like kababs until golden & cooked.

🍗 Keep the fried chicken kababs aside to cool.

✔ Reserve the oil — we’ll use it for both biryani & chicken gravies.

STEP 5: Make the Biryani Rice Gravy

🔥 Heat some of the reserved chicken oil, & add:

• 4 cloves

• 1-inch cinnamon

• 1 cardamom

💡NOTE: You can also add: 1 Marathi moggu, 1 star anise, 1 blade mace & ½ tsp shah jeera. But personally, I prefer my biryani to be less masala-heavy, so I kept the spices minimal & it was sucha flavor bomb! 💥

🧅 Then add 2 medium onions, thinly sliced & cook until golden brown.

🧄 Add 1 tbsp ginger-garlic paste & cook until the raw smell disappears.

🌿 Add a handful of chopped mint & coriander leaves. Sauté for a minute.

🍅Add the tomato purée (from 1 large tomato), salt, ¼ tsp turmeric powder, 1 tbsp Kashmiri chilli powder & 1 tsp of the special spice mix. Cook until the oil separates.

🥣 Add 2 tbsp of curd, a pinch of kasuri methi & squeeze half lemon juice. Mix well & cook for 1 minute.

🥛 Pour in 1 cup milk, give it a stir & cook until the oil separates again.

✅ Your biryani rice gravy or masala is ready!

STEP 6: Dum the Rice

🍚 Spread the cooked rice over the biryani gravy or masala. Gently mix or layer it.

✨ Top with a little saffron-infused milk 🌼.

🔥 Cover the pot tightly. Cook on low flame for 15–20 minutes.

✅ Your biryani rice is now ready!

STEP 7: Make the Boneless Chicken Gravy

🫕 In another pan, heat some of the reserved chicken oil.

🌿 Add lots of curry leaves & 2 chopped green chillies. Sauté for a minute.

🧅 Add 1 medium onion, finely chopped & cook until translucent.

🧄 Add 1 tsp ginger-garlic paste, ¼ tsp turmeric powder, 1 tsp Kashmiri chilli powder, 1 tsp of the special spice mix & salt. Sauté well.

🍅 Add the tomato puree (about 2 medium tomatoes) & a splash of water. Cook until the oil separates. Add more oil while cooking if needed.

🥛 Finish with thick cream & bring it to a gentle boil.

🍗 Finally add the fried chicken kababs & simmer for a few minutes.

🌿 Finish with fresh coriander.

✅ Your boneless chicken gravy is ready!

TO SERVE:

1. Fill a bowl with the dum biryani rice 🍚

2. Top generously with the hot boneless chicken gravy 🍗

3. Mix everything together & enjoy! 🤌✨

It's this final combination of aromatic rice & flavour-packed chicken gravy that gives Meghana-style biryani its iconic taste! 🤤

If you try this recipe, I'd love to know how it turned out - leave a comment below! ❤️

The giant screens flicker to life, a countdown timer starting at ten minutes.

The crowd erupts – cheers ripple through the arena as phones rise instinctively, screams stacking on top of one another.

Each second ticks down loudly in your chest, not just on the screen. This countdown isn’t merely measuring time – it’s measuring anticipation, 20 years of waiting, and the emotional weight Linkin Park carried with us.

When the timer finally hits zero, the arena explodes—echoing the same countdown that marked the band’s return in 2024, after seven years of silence following the death of their lead vocalist, Chester Bennington. Linkin Park re-emerged with a new vocalist, a new drummer, and a new album titled From Zero—a name that nods to their original identity, Xero, and to what this moment truly signifies: beginning again.

In 2014, a now-cherished video showed two Indian fans, Raj and Anish, hanging out with Chester Bennington in New York as he smiled and said, “We will come to India… but we don’t know when,” unknowingly planting a promise fans would hold onto for years.

Fast forward to 23 January 2026, Bengaluru… Chester’s promise finally found its moment!

The stage ignites instantly, flooding the space with dramatic light synced to the tour’s theme, “Burn It Down.” Visuals surge across massive screens, beams cut through darkness, and for a moment, sound and light take complete control. Only then does the band emerge – already connected to the audience, already owning the room. By the time the first note drops, the audience is fully locked in – emotionally, physically, collectively.

And then it begins,

With the track “Somewhere I Belong”...

Linkin Park shaped my teenage years. Their music gave me a safe outlet for anger, aggression, confusion, and all the feelings I’d been forced to swallow. Their nu-metal—a fusion of rap, melody, electronics, and metal—spoke to a generation that felt misunderstood, numb, or overwhelmed. It still hits hard because, in its raw honesty, it gave many of us language for emotions we didn’t yet know how to name.

Chester’s voice was unique—able to move from a scream to a whisper in a single line. Mike Shinoda’s rap verses were equally defining. Joe Hahn’s turntables. Brad Delson’s processing. Together, the band created something no individual could replicate.

When I booked tickets for the From Zero World Tour 2026 in Bangalore, part of me wanted Chester back. I hadn’t listened to Linkin Park much after he passed.

Hybrid Theory was the first LP I encountered, and I embraced it wholeheartedly. Then came Meteora. From hearing them on the radio to loading my Transcend MP3 player and Sony Ericsson F305 with their songs, I was a lunatic fan. Seeing Linkin Park live at least once in my lifetime became the number one priority on my bucket list.

When I do return to Linkin Park now, I gravitate toward Minutes to Midnight, A Thousand Suns, and Living Things. In my twenties, I came to deeply love “The Little Things Give You Away,” “Waiting for the End,” “Leave Out All the Rest,” and “What I’ve Done”— some of their finest work.

I walked into the concert without knowing a single song from From Zero. One of my friends had even sent me the Bengaluru setlist ten days in advance, urging me to do my homework – but I didn’t.

While the band did perform tracks from their new album, recorded with Emily Armstrong, the heart of the setlist came from the era before Chester Bennington’s passing. It leaned heavily on the songs that have long defined Linkin Park’s music — “In the End,” “Crawling, Numb,” “Faint,” “Papercut,” “New Divide,” and more.

The night also made space for individual moments such as Joe Hahn’s solo and Mike Shinoda’s solo segment, which brought “Remember the Name” and “When They Come for Me” to the forefront, sending the crowd into another surge of collective release.

Watching Emily Armstrong on stage, I carried the same mix of hope and concern as many fans did. For some, she needed to be the perfect replacement for Chester. For others, she simply needed to sound like Linkin Park.

The challenge with a new vocalist is that fans often take a very long time—sometimes forever—to fully accept them. They’re seen as “the okay replacement,” never quite measuring up to the original. That pressure can prevent the new member from feeling free enough to be themselves and bring something new to the table. And in this case, the shoes to fill were impossibly large.

I fell into the latter camp. My only hope was that she would sound like Linkin Park—and she did. Especially on tracks like “The Emptiness Machine” and “Heavy Is the Crown.”

The more I listened to From Zero, the more I appreciated how it carries all the essential elements of a Linkin Park record—now with a female vocalist. It’s Linkin Park with a brand new flavor. What I love most is that they didn’t try to find someone who could be Chester—and that’s what worked.

Chester used songwriting to process trauma, turning pain into something survivable. Millions of us learned to do the same through his music. When he died by suicide, the fear wasn’t just about losing him—it was about what his absence might mean for those who relied on his words to stay afloat. Almost everyone in that arena had been touched by suicide in some way—directly or indirectly—yet those stories remain largely invisible, carried quietly, person to person.

I found myself tearing up throughout the concert. Every version of me showed up at once—the teenager, the survivor, the woman I am now. Singing along to songs I’d known by heart felt both heavy and weightless at the same time. It wasn’t just a concert; it was a time machine—pulling memories and wounds into a single moment, and somehow sending me back whole, healed, and at peace.

The saddest and most twisted part of grief is how it can become a prison for those left behind. People trap themselves in it out of loyalty to what they’ve lost, feeling guilt over every moment of happiness that follows.

As Mike Shinoda reminds us:
“The hardest part of ending is starting all over again.”

It took Linkin Park years to recover—and to begin from zero.

Standing there in the arena, it really hit me what all this meant.

Starting over isn’t about forgetting or replacing what was lost. It’s about learning how to carry the loss without letting it be the end of the story—allowing life to move forward gently, refusing to let pain be the final word, even when our hearts are still catching up, even when the beginning feels impossible…

📸 Images used in this article include photographs shot by Vignesh Sankar!

It was my first time winning 1st prize for singing Janapada Geethe at a district-level inter-school competition held at Government Primary High School, Kembodi, on the occasion of Kannada Rajyotsava in 2005. They even gave our school a giant rolling trophy that they proudly displayed…

The next morning, during assembly, our principal announced my win, and the entire school applauded. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had achieved something big and that too at the age of fourteen…

We were a group of six girls, and at the time, I considered them my best friends. One of them had also participated in the same competition. Our Kannada teacher, who was also our headmaster, had handpicked the two best singers from our entire school…

Unfortunately, my friend didn’t win any prize, and the girls from our group made a huge fuss. They told to my face that she was the one who deserved the prize, not me...

Our friendship was always complicated. They’d fight with me for no reason, team up against me, and make me feel like a loser at every opportunity...

In the 5th standard, I became the class leader, and the jealousy became very obvious. One day, one of my friends complained that her pencil box was missing. Our class teacher asked her to check everyone’s bags, and of course, she “found” it in mine. I was humiliated in front of the entire class as a “thief”…

Later, I learned that they had intentionally slipped it into my bag during the lunch break. After that, everyone ghosted me for a few weeks. I felt unbearably lonely. They punished me for something I never did. Then they’d patch things up with me later as if nothing had happened...

For almost twenty years, my circle never changed; this friendship lasted all the way through college. They always made me feel like I didn’t truly belong, and I kept tolerating their toxic behavior simply because I wanted to have friends...

It wasn’t until my mid-20s that I found women who were not only genuine but also showed me what having a safe space with people feels like. They celebrated me exactly as I was, and the heaviness I carried for years finally eased. They have seen the worst version of me and still chose to stay friends. No jealousy, no gossiping, no two-faced behaviour, no emotional exhaustion after every conversation....

For the first time, friendship didn’t feel like trying to fit in. They welcomed me with open hearts and open hands. It felt like being truly seen, accepted, and supported and, most importantly, valued for exactly who I am...

Belonging isn’t something we stumble into; it’s something we grow into when the right people finally find us. And the simplest truth is: you belong in the spaces where you feel like your truest self!

This is dedicated to my girls - the ones who lifted me, loved me loudly, and reminded me that I was never hard to love!

Do explore the insightful pieces written by fellow Bangalore Substack writers, each contributing their own perspective to this theme!

You’ll find their articles here:

• Happiness & a sense of belonging by Aarti Krishnakumar, Aarti’s Substack

• Virtual Embrace by Shwetha Harsha, ChutneyMix

• Belonging Is A Many Shaped Word by Priyanka Sacheti, A Home For Homeless Thoughts

• I belong by Spandana, Spandana’s Substack

• We are all mad here by Gowri N Kishore | About Murder, She Wrote.

• Food and Belonging by Rakhi Anil

• Ambiguity of Belonging by Mihir Chate, Mihir’s Substack

• The Complexity of Belonging by Avinash Shenoy, Off the walls

• #14: On Belonging, by Siddhesh Raut, Shana, Ded Shana

• Where am I? By Abhiram R, Abhiram’s Newsletter

• Across the Seven Seas, the Ocean Waits by Amit Charles, AC Notes

• The Canteen, By Shruthi, Will you be my Friend?

• Somewhere I Belong, By Meghana Ramachandra, One True Sentence

• Unknown Citizen by Nidhishree Venugopal, The General in her Labyrinth

Revealing a moustachioed man dressed in a white dhoti, angarkha, and a colorful turban, filling the silence with melancholic notes on his kamaicha.

Soon, the nearby curtains rise one by one. Each compartment illuminates as its occupant performs.

Singers with soulful, uninhibited voices breathe life into Bulleh Shah’s powerful “Alfat in bin un bin.”

A sorcerer of rhythm, the conductor sweeps across the stage with khartaal in hand. With each sharp crack of wood against wood, the Manganiyars instinctively follow his lead, erupting into a chorus that flows between wild storms and gentle breezes.

One by one, the dhol, dholak, tandoora, alghoza, murali, Sindhi sarangi, bhapang, and morchang join the voices, their instruments conjuring melodies that shimmer and sway.

Each cubicle lights up as a new artist joins, until the stage transforms into a breathtaking mosaic of sound and light. The performance builds into an ecstatic explosion of melody and rhythm.

It doesn’t matter if you understand the lyrics of what they’re singing. The power of The Manganiyar Seduction lies not in words, but in feeling. The music moves you, stuns you, and seduces you — slipping past language and reason to strike directly at the heart. You don’t just listen; you surrender, carried by rhythms that feel both intimate and immense.

By the finale, lights flash across 33 illuminated boxes as all 38 performers play and sing in perfect harmony – a dazzling symphony of music and radiance that leaves the audience immersed in emotion, mesmerised by its sheer intensity and beauty. Swept into a trance, some clap, some weep, and all rise in a standing ovation. The applause thunders on, refusing to stop, as the musicians bow with folded hands.

Then comes a gentle shift, Director Roysten Abel walks onto the stage, his words of gratitude embracing both performers and audience, as he introduces each musician by name and their artistic mastery. In a delightful surprise, he announces that the show will conclude with one final song.

The conductor then leads the ensemble in a tender rendition of a Meera Bai bhajan dedicated to Lord Krishna. The Manganiyars join in, and what begins with the subtle, healing touch of Sufi mysticism comes full circle, culminating in a magical, intimate moment.

One by one, the stage lights dim as the musicians draw their curtains, leaving only three illuminated cubicles where the kamaicha, Sindhi sarangi, and dholak continue to play. Slowly, the conductor retreats, the remaining lights fading until the stage is swallowed in quiet, reverent darkness.

After captivating audiences worldwide with over 800 performances across 20 countries over 19 years, The Manganiyar Seduction brought their signature show to the Prestige Centre for Performing Arts on August 29th and 30th, 2025. For a few magical hours, they transported the audience of Namma Bengaluru into the vibrant, mystical, and timeless soul of Manganiyar music.

The Set: A Living Tapestry of Music and Light

Stepping into the auditorium, the stage greets you like a magical, towering treasure chest. 33 red-curtained cubicles rise in four horizontal tiers, stacked almost 25 feet high, each softly glowing under the warm stage lights.

Director Roysten Abel envisioned a stage that could capture the grandeur, individuality, and seductive allure of Manganiyar music. Drawing inspiration from Jaipur's five-storied Hawa Mahal and tinged with the theatricality of Amsterdam’s red-light district, the set resembles a palace of music.

Each cubicle houses a single musician (or sometimes three), hidden behind crimson veils until it is their turn to perform. As the show begins, curtains draw open one by one, lightbulbs flicker to life, and the musicians emerge in a rhythmic cascade.

As the performance reaches its climax, the stage erupts in a breathtaking burst of light and sound. Every cubicle glows in unison, revealing each musician like a jewel in a vast tapestry. The music swells, while shimmering shadows ripple across the tiers, making the stage pulse with its own heartbeat – a hypnotic spectacle that leaves the audience spellbound.

The set is not merely a backdrop – it becomes part of the performance itself – a living, breathing participant in the seduction, a magical realm that captures the audience’s gaze and refuses to let go.

From Discovery to Seduction: Roysten Abel’s Manganiyar Journey

Abel’s encounter with the Manganiyars happened by chance in Segovia, Spain, in 2004, while directing the play Jiyo. Two Manganiyars, Mame Khan and Devu Khan, sang for him day and night, following him into restaurants, streets, and private spaces. In two weeks, he experienced a profound, almost physiological shift that he realized he had been completely seduced by their music.

On returning to India, Abel traveled to Jaisalmer, auditioning hundreds of Manganiyar musicians to create a show that would not just present their talent, but also let the audience truly live and breathe the power of their music. The result was The Manganiyar Seduction – a production that defies categorization, existing somewhere between theatre and concert. Since its debut in 2006, it has dazzled audiences across the globe.

Among the early collaborators was Mame Khan, an award-winning vocalist celebrated internationally for songs such as “Chaudhary”, and Devu Khan, a master of the khartaal, who has played a pivotal role in preserving and presenting Manganiyar music through Abel’s productions, namely Manganiyar Classroom and Weaving Voices, showcasing the depth and versatility of this tradition.

Voices from the Desert: The Manganiyar Legacy

For those unfamiliar, the Manganiyars were once royal court musicians, patronised first by kings and later by feudal landlords. Most hail from Jaisalmer, Barmer, and Jodhpur – the heart of the Thar desert.

Though Muslim by faith, the Manganiyars embody a fascinating cultural and spiritual hybridity. They sing Sufi kalams in praise of Allah, devotional songs for Hindu deities, epic ballads, folk tales, and songs for life’s milestones – births, weddings, festivals, and even mourning.

Music is woven into the very fabric of their lives. Passed down orally through generations, it carries the soul of Rajasthan’s folk heritage enriched with classical nuances. Unlike the polished refinement of Hindustani classical music, Manganiyar songs possess a raw, earthy edge – voices that feel alive, intimate, and deeply human, each note being sung straight from the heart.

The Manganiyars are not just musicians, but they are storytellers of the desert, carrying centuries of tradition in every note.

Where Music Transcends Faith: The Identity of the Manganiyars

For the Manganiyars, music is more than performance – it is their identity.

As Devu Khan, a leading musician and master of the Khartaal, explains:

“This music has been in our blood for generations. We don’t need to be taught - it flows naturally.”

He reflects on the universal power of their art:

“Even if the audience does not understand our language, they enjoy it, because music speaks in a language all hearts understand”

And on the spiritual breadth of their repertoire:

“Our songs include both Sufi verses and Hindu devotional melodies. Love and harmony are the essence of our music. After all, all music and all religions are one.”

In a country where people are often separated by the faith they follow, the Manganiyars offer a reminder of a simpler, deeper truth. For these humble musicians from Rajasthan – Muslim by birth, yet singing in praise of Hindu deities – music is not about religion; it is life, identity, and devotion woven into every note. Their songs transcend labels, carrying love, harmony, and the shared heartbeat of humanity.

Listening to their music, one can’t help but be deeply moved, realizing that the rhythms of the heart need no holy book, no creed – only the joy of expression and connection. In their world, faith and art coexist effortlessly, showing that the truest bonds are not built on labels, but on shared human experience.

The Awe and Artistry of The Manganiyar Seduction

Throughout The Manganiyar Seduction, the music flows like a river across time and belief. Devotional Sufi poetry like “Alfat Un Bin In Bin” by Bulleh Shah blends seamlessly with Hindu songs such as “Halariya,” celebrating Krishna’s birth, and “Neendarli,” a wife’s tender expression of love for her husband. The repertoire reflects the Manganiyars’ worldview of love, harmony, and the peaceful coexistence of different faiths.

Every note tells a story; every rhythm awakens memories buried deep in the heart. The Manganiyars don’t just perform – they ignite something elemental within you. The flicker of light on the towering stage, the sway of the instruments, and the rise and fall of voices carry the weight of emotions, the heat of passion, and the timelessness of the human soul.

To witness it is to feel the pulse beneath your feet, to hear voices that linger long after the final bow, and to understand why music, in its purest form, transcends words and becomes a language all its own.

The Manganiyar Seduction is not just a show - it is a journey into a world where tradition meets innovation and hearts are moved beyond measure, leaving every audience member enchanted, inspired, and yearning for more.

Step into the theatre. Surrender to the magic. Let the Manganiyars show you how their music can seduce you. And when the lights fade, you’ll carry a piece of their timeless song with you forever, and you’ll want everyone you know to hear it too!

She’d strictly warn me to carry a stick before stepping into the bushes — and to stay alert for snakes. Oddly, I never feared snakes, but it’s the ghosts that I feared the most. I never spotted actual snakes anyway, it was mostly garden lizards or haavu rani (skinks).

Grandma would often pause to chat with the farm workers while I wandered off looking for my favourite wildflowers. Eventually, she’d go foraging for naati soppu—wild leafy greens. The ladies would gather some too, to take home, and it was a sign that dinner would be a hearty soppu saaru with bisi bisi ragi mudde—one of the most soulful meals I love to this day.

I simply loved Tridax daisies, also called coatbuttons—I’d rename them cutebuttons, hehe. They bloomed almost everywhere, especially near corners where tiny streams flowed or around large stones. Technically, they’re classified as noxious weeds—harmful to crops. But to my grandma, they were medicinal soppu.

She’d crush a handful of leaves in a mortar and dab the green juice on my fresh wounds and bruises. They have been proven to have anticoagulant, antifungal, anti-inflammatory, and analgesic properties. In the countryside, people widely used them for cuts, boils, and blisters.

These flowers stood on tall, wiry stalks with hard, U-shaped heads topped with tooth-shaped petals. Once fully bloomed, they wouldn’t wither for three to four days, even after being plucked. When their fruits ripened, they looked like tiny, fake dandelions.

I was obsessed with them.

Every evening, I’d go looking for them, determined to collect the longest-stemmed daisies I could find. I refused to go home until my hands were full. Grandma would worry I’d get bitten by a snake, and the workers enjoyed watching me dart around like a joyful Labrador. Some were kind enough to help pull thorns stuck to my frock.

I’d sit on the porch and sort the flowers, arranging them by height, & patiently wait for Grandma to teach me the art of weaving them. It took me over twenty attempts to get it right. If you wove it loosely, the whole necklace would fall apart, and if you put too much pressure while weaving the stalks, the heads would snap off. But eventually, I got the hang of it.

Once finished, it would resemble a Gejje Addige — a traditional necklace with tiny bells hanging, or in our case, flowers. My mum, aunts, and their cousins once wore them as kids — around their necks and even as anklets while they played.

Every summer vacation I spent at the farm with my grandparents, I returned to making floral Gejje addiges, trying to create one more perfect — and longer — than my last creation.

Even now, all these years later, when I spot those little daisies by the roadside or in an abandoned field, I’m transported straight back to those sun-dappled childhood evenings.

I miss my grandma every time I make one. And I feel deeply grateful — for the memories, the skills, and the slow, mindful ways she shared with me!

* * *

Note on local words:
Soppu saaru — leafy greens curry
Bisi Bisi Ragi Mudde — piping hot ragi mudde (finger millet balls)

Some wounds don’t bleed anymore.
They just ache — quietly, constantly, especially on the same day every year...

I woke up with sleep-deprived eyes still burning — I’d been reading a book last night, intending to unwind for just thirty minutes. But I ended up staying with it for three straight hours…

As I was going about my morning, the tears came — slow, silent, unstoppable…

It hit me then: I haven’t really been healing. I’ve just been holding my breath. Burying the grief so deep that even I mistook the quiet for peace. Calling it "strength," pretending it was "coping."

But pain doesn’t expire. It waits. It lingers finding its way back through the cracks I thought I'd sealed — like it always does, every year, on this day…

But lil’ Varnit noticed — the one person I didn’t want to see me like this.

He saw the damp marks on my T-shirt, where I’d hurriedly wiped my tears before he walked in…

As I was getting him ready for school, he looked up at me & said,

“I know you miss your mummy… because she died today.”

Seven years have passed since she became a memory. Since her touch turned to air.

I told myself I’d healed. But my heart still reaches for her. Maybe more than ever.

I broke down. Silently.

He wiped my tears with his little towel & wrapped his tiny arms around my neck.

“I got you,” he said. “I am there for you mumma, I love you a lot.”

As I was buttoning his shirt, still fighting back more tears, he gently lifted the edge of my T-shirt & dabbed my eyes.

He asked me to come wave from the balcony. As he ran down to put on his shoes, I stood there smiling through the tears.

He kept sending flying kisses, shaping tiny heart signs with his fingers, until the bike vanished around the bend at the end of our street!

* * *

There are moments when the universe understands our deepest aches — just as something is taken, something else is gently placed in our arms. My son is that gift.

In his laughter, his hugs, & the way he looks at me, I feel her presence — like she sent him to carry on the love she once gave so freely ❤️‍🩹