Taufiq Qureshi: Rhythm is the Language of Life

You are celebrated as the pioneer who brought the African djembe into the Indian tradition. What drew you to this instrument and how did you adapt it to seamlessly fit into the Indian classical soundscape?

For a long time, I was searching for an instrument that could carry the knowledge of tabla I had inherited from my father. I tried the drum set, congas, darbuka, dumbek, even bongos—each had limitations in resonance or tonal balance. Then, in 1997, Zakir Bhai gave me a djembe. The connection was instant. I realized the djembe had all three frequencies—bass, mids, highs—in perfect proportion. By miking the top for mids and highs and the open bottom for bass, I could play tabla compositions on the djembe. That was the breakthrough.

Your music often bridges tradition and innovation. How do you strike that balance?

Tradition is my anchor. Even when I am playing djembe, my contraption kit, or trash rhythms with Mumbai Stamp, my mind thinks in tabla. My father always said: if you are deeply rooted in one tradition, you can branch into any music. That’s been my philosophy. Because I know Indian classical rhythms so deeply, I can explore African, Latin, or folk rhythms with balance. For me, tabla is the lens through which I see every instrument.

In ‘Sounds of India’, you are collaborating with Vijay Prakash, Sangeet Haldipur, and young Anirban Roy. What excites you most about bringing such different musical energies together?

Each of them brings a different flavor—Vijay can flow from Carnatic to Bollywood effortlessly, Sangeet blends jazz with Hindustani sensibilities, and Anirban, though just 13, is a prodigy who adapts beautifully across genres. Together, we bring diverse traditions to the table. Fusion, as I see it, is not just blending music but melting everything—your ego, your behavior, your sound—so it becomes one organic whole. That’s the beauty of 'Sounds of India'.

You often say rhythm is a universal language. Can you share a moment where rhythm transcended boundaries for you?

Rhythm is in the heartbeat, the breath—it’s the rhythm of life itself. One exercise I do on stage is turning breath into rhythm, creating motifs and phrases. Everywhere I’ve performed, audiences instantly connect with this because it’s organic—it’s inside all of us. That’s when boundaries of culture, geography, and language disappear.

Having collaborated with legends like A. R. Rahman and Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia, what lessons have stayed with you?

The biggest lesson is spontaneity. Rahman sir, for example, would often ask me to just play spontaneous rhythmic ideas in the studio, and then he’d weave them into compositions. With Hariprasadji or Shiv Kumar Sharmaji, it was about being attuned in the moment, following their improvisations instinctively. With Zakir Bhai too, it’s always about responding spontaneously. You can plan structures, but magic happens in improvisation.

The NCPA has been a hub for nurturing Indian arts. How do you see platforms like NCPA shaping the future of fusion and reaching younger audiences?

NCPA has always been central to India’s cultural landscape, from the days of Pandit Ravi Shankar and my father’s early concerts. They nurture both tradition and new talent. With ‘Sounds of India’, presented with the Sahachari Foundation, I am leading a group at Tata Theatre on September 19, 2025. It’s not just a concert—it’s a celebration of how tradition and innovation can come together to engage younger audiences and carry forward our musical heritage.