<p>Amid an era of thumping beats and electronic soundscapes, Padma Shri Tejendra Narayan Majumdar stands out for keeping the sarod’s serene, soulful voice alive. In a conversation with DHoS, the globally acclaimed virtuoso recalls his Padma moment, speaks of the bond he shares with his instrument, its evolving expression today, and cherished memories with his guru Ustad Ali Akbar Khan Sahib and more. Excerpts</p>.<p><strong>What was it like to be honoured with the Padma Shri? Are you content with your achievements, or is it dil maange more?</strong></p>.<p>When I first heard about the Padma Shri, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. It was unexpected, and for a moment, I simply sat quietly, thinking of my Gurus, my parents, and all those who shaped my journey. Awards are milestones, of course, but they are also reminders of responsibility. Am I content? I’m grateful, yes — but the heart always wants to grow, to explore, to dig deeper. Dil maange more in the sense of seeking more music, more understanding, more truth.</p>.<p>In recent times, where loud bar-hitting music and electric beats are gaining popularity, how do you keep the sarod, a quaint instrument, alive?</p>.<p>The sarod doesn’t need to compete with anything. Its power lies in its depth. I simply try to present it with honesty. When music is genuine, people listen — even in a world full of electronic beats. Authenticity has its own volume.</p>.Ranjani-Gayatri Bengaluru concert: Spirituality is at core of great music, says renowned vocal duo.<p><strong>If your instrument could speak, what would it tell us about you and your love for it? </strong></p>.<p>If my sarod had a voice, I think it would say that our relationship is one of companionship. We have travelled through joy, doubt, exhaustion, discovery —everything. It knows my inner world more than anyone else. It would probably complain about the hours of riyaaz but also smile at the love with which I return to it every day.</p>.<p><strong>Any changes in how the sarod is performed over the years?</strong></p>.<p>I see a growing openness in how the sarod is being explored — new textures, collaborative formats, fresh presentation styles. At the same time, some younger musicians are returning to long-form alaap and deeper raga exploration. So it’s a fascinating mix of innovation and revival.</p>.<p><strong>How different is the sarod from other stringed instruments?</strong></p>.<p>Every stringed instrument has its beauty, but the sarod speaks a language of raw emotion that is very close to the human voice. The sarod’s voice is both robust and introspective. The metal fingerboard, the resonance, the meend — it creates a powerful yet meditative sound. </p>.<p><strong>Do you consider being born in a family of musicians a blessing?</strong></p>.<p>It was a blessing. Not because it made things easier, but because music was the air I breathed. The discipline, the atmosphere, the respect for art — these values are absorbed naturally.</p>.'Indian audiences are very open-minded when it comes to fusion music': Djembe maestro Taufiq Qureshi.<p><strong>Thoughts on gharana culture.</strong></p>.<p>Gharanas were never meant to restrict; they were meant to preserve depth. A solid grounding in a gharana gives you roots. Once those are strong, your branches can grow freely. I welcome evolution, but I believe the essence of a tradition must remain intact.</p>.<p><strong>How can audiences enjoy the sarod better?</strong></p>.<p>The sarod reveals itself slowly. To appreciate it fully, listen for the micro-tones, the meend, the mood shaping each phrase. Give it a little patience, and it will speak to you very intimately.</p>.<p><strong>From your experience, how is Indian music perceived abroad today?</strong></p>.<p>International audiences approach Indian music with great respect and curiosity. They may not know the technicalities, but they connect deeply with the emotion. Sometimes their openness surprises me — they listen without preconceived notions.</p>.<p><strong>What does music mean to you?</strong></p>.<p>Music is a form of truth. It helps me understand myself and the world around me. And yes, it is one of the ways I connect with the divine — through surrender, through stillness, through sound.</p>.<p><strong>A raga that you cherish.</strong></p>.<p>Many ragas speak to me at different times, but Darbari, Shree, and Hemant have a way of centring me. They carry a profound inner silence.</p>.<p><strong>What would you tell young instrumentalists?</strong></p>.<p>My Guru taught me that riyaaz is not just practice — it is a way of life. Do it with patience, discipline, and respect. The rest will follow.</p>
<p>Amid an era of thumping beats and electronic soundscapes, Padma Shri Tejendra Narayan Majumdar stands out for keeping the sarod’s serene, soulful voice alive. In a conversation with DHoS, the globally acclaimed virtuoso recalls his Padma moment, speaks of the bond he shares with his instrument, its evolving expression today, and cherished memories with his guru Ustad Ali Akbar Khan Sahib and more. Excerpts</p>.<p><strong>What was it like to be honoured with the Padma Shri? Are you content with your achievements, or is it dil maange more?</strong></p>.<p>When I first heard about the Padma Shri, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. It was unexpected, and for a moment, I simply sat quietly, thinking of my Gurus, my parents, and all those who shaped my journey. Awards are milestones, of course, but they are also reminders of responsibility. Am I content? I’m grateful, yes — but the heart always wants to grow, to explore, to dig deeper. Dil maange more in the sense of seeking more music, more understanding, more truth.</p>.<p>In recent times, where loud bar-hitting music and electric beats are gaining popularity, how do you keep the sarod, a quaint instrument, alive?</p>.<p>The sarod doesn’t need to compete with anything. Its power lies in its depth. I simply try to present it with honesty. When music is genuine, people listen — even in a world full of electronic beats. Authenticity has its own volume.</p>.Ranjani-Gayatri Bengaluru concert: Spirituality is at core of great music, says renowned vocal duo.<p><strong>If your instrument could speak, what would it tell us about you and your love for it? </strong></p>.<p>If my sarod had a voice, I think it would say that our relationship is one of companionship. We have travelled through joy, doubt, exhaustion, discovery —everything. It knows my inner world more than anyone else. It would probably complain about the hours of riyaaz but also smile at the love with which I return to it every day.</p>.<p><strong>Any changes in how the sarod is performed over the years?</strong></p>.<p>I see a growing openness in how the sarod is being explored — new textures, collaborative formats, fresh presentation styles. At the same time, some younger musicians are returning to long-form alaap and deeper raga exploration. So it’s a fascinating mix of innovation and revival.</p>.<p><strong>How different is the sarod from other stringed instruments?</strong></p>.<p>Every stringed instrument has its beauty, but the sarod speaks a language of raw emotion that is very close to the human voice. The sarod’s voice is both robust and introspective. The metal fingerboard, the resonance, the meend — it creates a powerful yet meditative sound. </p>.<p><strong>Do you consider being born in a family of musicians a blessing?</strong></p>.<p>It was a blessing. Not because it made things easier, but because music was the air I breathed. The discipline, the atmosphere, the respect for art — these values are absorbed naturally.</p>.'Indian audiences are very open-minded when it comes to fusion music': Djembe maestro Taufiq Qureshi.<p><strong>Thoughts on gharana culture.</strong></p>.<p>Gharanas were never meant to restrict; they were meant to preserve depth. A solid grounding in a gharana gives you roots. Once those are strong, your branches can grow freely. I welcome evolution, but I believe the essence of a tradition must remain intact.</p>.<p><strong>How can audiences enjoy the sarod better?</strong></p>.<p>The sarod reveals itself slowly. To appreciate it fully, listen for the micro-tones, the meend, the mood shaping each phrase. Give it a little patience, and it will speak to you very intimately.</p>.<p><strong>From your experience, how is Indian music perceived abroad today?</strong></p>.<p>International audiences approach Indian music with great respect and curiosity. They may not know the technicalities, but they connect deeply with the emotion. Sometimes their openness surprises me — they listen without preconceived notions.</p>.<p><strong>What does music mean to you?</strong></p>.<p>Music is a form of truth. It helps me understand myself and the world around me. And yes, it is one of the ways I connect with the divine — through surrender, through stillness, through sound.</p>.<p><strong>A raga that you cherish.</strong></p>.<p>Many ragas speak to me at different times, but Darbari, Shree, and Hemant have a way of centring me. They carry a profound inner silence.</p>.<p><strong>What would you tell young instrumentalists?</strong></p>.<p>My Guru taught me that riyaaz is not just practice — it is a way of life. Do it with patience, discipline, and respect. The rest will follow.</p>