A Privilege to Perform for NCPA Audience: Swanand Kirkire
In this candid conversation, lyricist, singer, actor and storyteller Swanand Kirkire opens up about performing at an iconic stage, the power of collective singing, and why simplicity in expression moves him the most.
The stage at National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA) holds its own kind of silence before a performance. It’s not the silence of emptiness but of reverence — the kind that remembers every note that’s been sung and every word that has echoed through its walls. For Swanand Kirkire, stepping onto this stage is more than just a concert.
“Oh, it’s an iconic venue,” he says with an unmistakable warmth, before adding, “I have seen the greatest of the great people perform there before — classical musicians, western classical musicians, great plays, Indian and western. That place has a history and they have a great audience that comes there regularly. So, it’s a privilege to perform for those people. It’s kind of a milestone in one’s journey.”
For his upcoming performance, the air carries a different kind of excitement. Bawra Live isn’t designed like a typical music show where the artist sings and the audience listens. It’s a shared moment. “We have designed it like a sing-along concert,” Swanand explains. “It’s not a regular show where the singer sings and everybody claps. We all sing together. The lyrics are played on the screen behind me, we give the audience a lyrics booklet. So, everyone joins in, we all sing the songs together.”
There’s something deeply moving about that idea — hundreds of voices, blending in one rhythm, dissolving the line between performer and listener. For him, that’s where the magic lies. “When a thousand voices sing together, it just transforms everything. The barrier between the performer and the audience breaks. You are not watching a performance. You are a part of it.”
He pauses to reflect on what makes a song travel beyond borders, languages and cultures.“Music itself is the most abstract and the most amazing thing, which straight talks soul to soul,” he says, his voice sure of the truth in it. “It just has to be honest. People react to melodies, to sounds. They don’t need to understand the words. If they like the sound of the word, they like the song. That’s the power of music. It connects people.”
Swanand’s creative life has always moved between worlds — lyric writing, composing, singing, acting, even directing. To him, these aren’t different paths but branches of the same tree. “Everything stems from one desire — to tell a story,” he says. “I am lucky that I get to do it in so many ways. Music came to me naturally; my parents gave me that in my DNA. Writing, I learned over the years. Acting happened too. But it all comes from the same stem. When you are telling a story, you enjoy it, no matter what the medium is.”
A lot of his songs carry a quiet nostalgia, an emotional weight that sneaks up on the listener. When asked how much of that is conscious, he smiles. “I can’t say nothing is conscious. That’s what an artist means — it’s who you are. I have always tried to listen to the greats and be inspired by them. I have always wanted to achieve a place where the complex is told simply. Like Gulzar saab, Sahir Ludhianvi or Kabir — they said the most complex things about life very simply. That’s what I try to achieve.”
For him, simplicity is not a lack of depth. It’s the deepest form of it. “You have to find a way of telling things simply, no matter how complicated they are for you,” he adds thoughtfully. “That’s a part of my personality. I am grateful that people like my songs. It’s a gift.”
When it comes to finding comfort in music, his inspirations run wide and deep. “Gulzar saab, Salil Chaudhary, S.D. Burman, Sahir Ludhianvi,” he lists with affection. “In contemporary times, Vishal Bhardwaj is one of my most favourite composers. I have listened to Kumar Gandharv a lot, Ghulam Ali, Fateh Ali Khan saab. In the western world, Bob Dylan, John Lennon… and yes, Billie Eilish too,” he laughs lightly. “Everywhere there is inspiration. You just have to stay open to it.”
For Bawra Live, he isn’t just preparing to perform — he’s preparing to be part of something collective and larger than himself. “It’s overwhelming when people sing together. It just breaks every rule, every barrier of that proscenium space. No one’s sitting in their place and clapping at the end. Everyone is a part of the performance.”
And what lies ahead? His creative journey continues to unfold in many directions. “Right now, I am enjoying doing Bawra Live shows because I am getting a great response,” he says with an ease that comes from doing what he loves. “Apart from that, I am acting in a few films, writing songs for some, releasing singles. I have already released three or four — Shor Gul, Meri Jaan — and I am trying to release a few more this year. I am also trying to make a film. So, yes, exciting stuff going on.”
Through every turn in his creative life, one thing remains constant for Swanand Kirkire — his love for stories. Whether it’s through a song that carries an emotion, a lyric that finds its way into someone’s heart, or a stage where a thousand people sing as one, he’s always telling a story. And that, perhaps, is why the music lingers long after the last note fades.
