
Aanchal Shrivastava's music show ‘Yatra with Aanchal' comes to Pune
Shrivastava's journey with music started when she was just two and a half. After noticing how often she banged on plates and spoons at home, her parents enrolled her in a local music class. The class was meant for older children, but her teacher allowed her in. By three and a half, she had already done her first public performance.
Most of her early training came from 'gharanas,' not from music schools or formal certification courses. That kind of learning, she says, shaped how she sings today – especially in Qawwali, which demands power and control.
For women, performing Qawwali is not easy. But Shrivastava says the deep, open, and full-breath singing Qawwali requires fits naturally with her training.
'When I was younger, I'd tell my dad my throat hurt after singing; I can't reach the correct notes. Guruji would say that if you truly want to sing, you must forget your organs. Sing from your stomach and forget about the pain. That stayed with me. You can sing from your throat for only 15 or 20 minutes. It won't sustain you. Singing from your stomach is the only way,' she explains.
Growing up, she was often called the Lata Mangeshkar of the school or the Nightingale of her class. 'It was flattering,' she says.
'But I never really felt I sounded like her. If someone had told me I sounded like Abida Parveen ji, maybe I would've realised that I was meant to make powerful music earlier,' she explains.
It took her years to see what direction her voice was taking her. She added, 'Even though I started young, I understood what I was made for only three or four years ago, when I left my job and committed to music full-time.'
What made it clear to her was the audience. The response was strong every time she performed Sufi or folk songs, even if people hadn't heard them before. Her original track, Ishq Akela, is now a staple in her live sets. 'People sing along, even if they don't know the song. There's something raw in it. I think I've been blessed with a voice that helps people connect, not just with the music, but with themselves,' she explains.
Her contributions to the music reflect that same depth and emotion as her performances. She has sung for Amazon Prime's Four More Shots Please and made her Bollywood debut in Mahesh Bhatt's Love Games. Her songs Kadi Aao Ni and Ishq Akela have made her a known name in India's indie and Sufi music scenes.
At the Pune show, she will perform Qawwalis like Chaap Tilak, Tu Mane Ya Na Mane, Asaan Te Tainu Rabb Manneya, Punjabi folk like Nehar Wale Pul Te Bula Ke, and her own original compositions. The music will stay rooted, with harmonium, tabla, dholak, claps, and acoustic guitar, and won't feature any electronic sounds.
The evening will open with a performance by poet and Kavita Café founder Garima Mishra. Shrivastava will be joined on stage by guitarist Mahi, who's worked on most of her originals, harmonium player Omkar, known for his work on several Bollywood tracks, and the rest of the band and backing vocalists.
She calls this live show 'Yatra with Aanchal' because it's not just about travel; it's about taking the audience through the journey with her. 'This isn't a show where you sit and watch. I want people to sing, clap, and move. I want them to feel like they did when they were kids when they weren't scared to dance or feel something and didn't have boundaries.'
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


News18
a day ago
- News18
OTT Weekend Alert: 5 Bold Web Series You Shouldn't Watch With Family
OTT platforms are brimming with content — intense dramas, bold romances, and stories that don't hold back. But not everything is meant for a family binge. Here are 5 web series you should absolutely avoid watching with your family by accident. "Four More Shots Please!" Bold, Bingeable, and Definitely Not Family Material: Amazon Prime's hit rom-com 'Four More Shots Please!' dives into the messy, magnetic lives of four urban women navigating friendship, relationships and personal chaos. Directed by Anu Menon and Nupur Asthana, the series doesn't shy away from bold scenes and unfiltered conversations, making it far from ideal for a family watch. With three seasons already out and a fourth on the way, the show stars Kirti Kulhari, Sayani Gupta, Maanvi Gagroo, and VJ Bani, and has become known for pushing boundaries as much as plotlines. Leaving 'Mirzapur' off this list would be criminal. Packed with raw violence, explicit scenes, and a barrage of expletives, this gritty crime drama is as bold as it gets. Family-friendly? Not even close. Featuring a powerhouse cast including Pankaj Tripathi and Ali Fazal, Mirzapur is best watched with headphones and a strong stomach. 'Made in Heaven', which first premiered in 2019, is a sharp, romantic drama set against the backdrop of big, fat Indian weddings. Created by an acclaimed team including Zoya Akhtar, Nitya Mehra, Prashant Nair, and Alankrita Shrivastava, the series follows two wedding planners navigating love, lies, and lavish chaos. Sobhita Dhulipala and Arjun Mathur lead the cast in this layered take on tradition, class, and modern relationships. Released in 2020, "Rasbhari" is a provocative small-town drama featuring Swara Bhaskar in a dual-shaded lead role. Set in Meerut, the story follows Shanu, an English teacher whose mysterious and seductive alter ego, Rasbhari, fuels the town's gossip and desire. The series leans heavily into bold themes and adult content, making it far from your average classroom story. 'Skulls and Roses', streaming on Amazon Prime, is a reality show that blends love and betrayal with a dose of chaos. Hosted by Raghu Ram and Rajiv Lakshman, the series pits couples against intense challenges to test the strength and limits of their relationships. Definitely not your typical dating show. 'Z: The Beginning of Everything' is a lush period drama inspired by 'Therese Anne Fowler's novel', tracing the life of Zelda Fitzgerald, the iconic flapper and literary muse. Available on Amazon Prime, the series dives into love, ambition, and the wild highs and lows of the Jazz Age. 'Cruel Intentions', streaming on Amazon, unpacks a twisted tale of privilege, seduction, and manipulation. Centered around two rich and ruthless step-siblings, the film blends revenge, dark romance, and bold mind games, a classic that's as daring as it is dramatic.


News18
a day ago
- News18
The Wedding That Wasn't: Inside Gen Z's Playful Reimagining Of Tradition
If these events become occasions for real connection, cultural appreciation, or even joyful experimentation, they have value Last week in Dubai, a friend hosted me for lunch at The Arts Club. As we discussed the evolving landscape of society and culture, she shared a video-cum-advertisement that left quite an impression. It was a video with eye-popping colours, choreography, and an unmistakable shaadi dazzle. Young people in exquisite ethnic ensembles twirling to Bollywood beats, grinning through varmala ceremonies, throwing petals with perfect cinematic timing. It looked like a wedding. It felt like a wedding. Except, there was no bride or groom. No priest. No sacred fire. Just a curated performance of what a wedding is supposed to feel like. Welcome to the world of fake weddings. A rapidly growing trend among Gen Z across India's metros—and now increasingly across global campuses and expat communities—these shaadi-style parties have all the makings of a big fat Indian wedding minus the actual marriage. There's a mehendi counter. There's a sangeet. There may even be a baraat, a mock phera, and a buffet that rivals real wedding spreads. But what binds it together isn't commitment—it's content. At first, I wasn't sure what to make of it. As someone who has spent a lifetime celebrating and chronicling Indian culture—from classical forms to crafts, from cuisine to couture—I carry a deep reverence for the Indian wedding. In our country, a wedding is not just a private promise; it is a public sacrament. A convergence of tradition and modernity, of generations and values, of ritual and joy. So when I saw these ceremonies unmoored from meaning, I felt a curious discomfort. But the more I read, watched, and listened, a layered story began to emerge. One that is less about parody and more about performance. Less about derision and perhaps more about desire. Less rebellion, more participation Let's begin with the facts. These events are not one-offs. They are a flourishing genre. Event companies in Delhi now regularly host fake weddings, with entry passes ranging from Rs 500 to Rs 3,000. Guests dress in ethnic finery, sip cocktails, play shaadi games, and create content for social media. Some of these are on college campuses; others are in rooftop bars or curated lounges. The catch? No real couple, no commitment, and absolutely no family drama. It's not just India. At Cornell University in the US, a two-day fake wedding drew scores of students. In Dubai, South Asian millennials recently attended a full-blown 'farzi sangeet", complete with gajras and DJ sets. Luxury hotel chains have taken note too—when the Shangri-La Group launched Bandhan, its wedding service vertical, the press event itself was a mock wedding, starring models in Tarun Tahiliani couture and live Sufi musicians. So, why now? Why fake weddings, and why this generation? Part of it is simple enough: the Indian wedding, with all its rituals and excesses, is irresistible. The clothes, the food, the music, the emotion—it's a high-voltage celebration of life. For many Gen Zers—especially young professionals far from home, NRIs, or foreigners who've grown up hearing about Indian weddings but never been invited—the idea of a fake wedding is less rebellion, more participation. It's a way to access the magic, without the pressure. But there's something deeper, too. Not a mockery—but a mirror Today's young adults are navigating a landscape of shifting values. They have grown up watching the sanctity of marriage challenged by increasing divorce rates, gender conflicts, and intergenerational disillusionment. For many, the idea of getting married feels loaded, even fraught. But the performance of a wedding? That still retains allure. It's theatre. It's fantasy. It's the one Indian party where everyone knows the choreography. Perhaps the fake wedding, then, is not a mockery—but a mirror. A mirror reflecting the tensions of a generation that yearns for connection but fears permanence. That craves celebration, but shrinks from commitment. That seeks the symbols of tradition, while rewriting its substance. There is, of course, an entire ecosystem that makes this possible. Event companies promise curated experiences with flowers, food, mehendi artists, and classic shaadi games. Some venues even offer free cocktails if you show up in ethnic wear. And for Instagram-native attendees, it's a dream—what better occasion to wear that lehenga you've kept for your cousin's wedding, or those kundan earrings you've only worn once? I spoke recently to someone who attended a 'shaadi rave" in Noida. 'It was the most fun I've had in ages," she said. 'There were dhol players, a fake bride and groom, a haldi station with marigolds, and even a choreographed sangeet. No relatives asking about your job or love life, no melodrama. Just fun." Her joy was sincere. And even contagious. What makes reinvention meaningful is intention But I cannot help but wonder what's lost when we detach ritual from meaning. There was a time when a wedding was not just a private milestone but a communal memory. A grandmother's lullaby during the mehendi. A father's quiet tears at the vidaai. A cousin teaching you the steps to a garba. A wedding was a story handed down, not a script improvised for a reel. What happens when we commodify that emotion? When commitment becomes cosplay? There is also the question of sustainability. The fake wedding economy may generate business for bartenders and DJs, but will it sustain traditional artisans, mehfil singers, or the handloom weavers of Chanderi and Banarasi? Will a party that lives and dies on Instagram support the quiet dignity of those who bring poetry to the phera? That said, I don't wish to play the moralist. Culture is not static. It flows. It morphs. It reinvents. And Indian culture—vast, inclusive, irrepressibly alive—has always accommodated reinvention. From hybrid cuisines to destination weddings, from eco-friendly rituals to gender-neutral pheras, we have never been afraid to play with form. But what makes reinvention meaningful is intention. When we perform a ritual, we owe it at least some sincerity. Otherwise, what anchors our joy? What deepens our celebration? Am I against fake weddings? I am against shallow mimicry. If these events become occasions for real connection, cultural appreciation, or even joyful experimentation, they have value. But if they reduce centuries of emotion into hashtags and headpieces, then perhaps we must pause and ask: what are we celebrating? And why? Or is this spectacle simply a reflection of our collective state of mind? A columnist and author, Sundeep Bhutoria is passionate about the environment, education, and wildlife conservation. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect News18's views. tags : culture marriage wedding view comments Location : New Delhi, India, India First Published: August 01, 2025, 05:03 IST News opinion Opinion | The Wedding That Wasn't: Inside Gen Z's Playful Reimagining Of Tradition Disclaimer: Comments reflect users' views, not News18's. Please keep discussions respectful and constructive. Abusive, defamatory, or illegal comments will be removed. News18 may disable any comment at its discretion. By posting, you agree to our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy.


New Indian Express
3 days ago
- New Indian Express
Lalu Prasad Yadav co-writes folk legends anthology rooted in Gorakhnathi tradition
NEW DELHI: In a vivid resurrection of forgotten voices, ancient ballads, and mystical legends, a new anthology by senior politician Lalu Prasad Yadav and author Nalin Verma brings together four timeless folk tales -- "Sorthi-Brijbhar", "Bharthari-Pingla", "Heer-Ranjha", and "Saranga-Sadabrij". Rooted in the life and teachings of Yogi Gorakhnath, the revered 11th-century mystic whose inclusive religious philosophy deeply influenced the Sufi and Bhakti movements in India, these stories offered in "Lores of Love and Saint Gorakhnath" were once sung by itinerant yogis of the Gorakhnath sect, accompanied by the melancholic notes of the sarangi. It is published by Penguin Random House India (PRHI). "Over the years, these ballads became a source of sustenance for folklorists and folk theatre artists, who performed at wedding parties and religious events. I am very passionate about these stories. I got the folklorists to perform when I became the chief minister of Bihar in 1990." "I still invite them to perform when I find time. I shared these stories with Nalin Verma, who has carried out extensive research to present these stories here. I am greatly thankful to him for writing these stories, which have been a part of our culture and our heritage," writes Yadav, the national president of the Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD) and former chief minister of Bihar, in the book's introduction.