Diplomat Correspondent
Srinagar, DD, Once a defining sound of Kashmir’s soul, the mellow notes of the Rabaab had all but faded into the mists of memory. But today, in quiet studios, open-air performances, and reels on social media, the Rabaab is striking a new chord — not just as a musical instrument, but as a symbol of cultural survival and spiritual revival.
The Fall: When Strings Went Silent
For centuries, the Rabaab was integral to the musical identity of Kashmir. Rooted in Central and South Asian traditions, it was once a constant presence in Sufi mehfils, folk storytelling, and devotional gatherings, especially in rural Kashmir. Carved from mulberry wood and played with deep emotional precision, the Rabaab was more than an instrument — it was a vessel for poetry, longing, and history.
But by the 1990s, conflict, cultural shifts, and a flood of modern electronic instruments pushed the Rabaab to the margins.
“People stopped teaching it. Shops stopped selling it. In many households, Rababs were stored away like broken clocks,” recalls Ghulam Rasool Dar, an 84-year-old folk musician from Anantnag. “We feared it might be lost forever.”
As musical tastes shifted toward Bollywood and digital beats, the younger generation lost touch with traditional instruments. Master artisans who once handcrafted Rababs in Srinagar’s Zaina Kadal and Rainawari neighbourhoods turned to carpentry or abandoned the craft entirely. The sound of the Rabaab, once common in the air, became a rarity.
The Rise: New Hands, Old Strings
But in recent years, a quiet renaissance has begun — led not by institutions, but by artists, storytellers, and cultural activists determined to reclaim their sonic heritage.
“The Rabaab connects us to something much older than ourselves,” says Arsalan Nizami, a young multidisciplinary artist who incorporates the instrument into experimental theatre and performance art. “It doesn’t scream for attention, it sings with memory.”
Platforms like YouTube and Instagram have played a key role in the revival, allowing musicians to rediscover traditional Kashmiri tunes and collaborate across genres. Young artists like Faheem Abdullah are blending Rabaab with contemporary instruments like the guitar, cajón, and violin, creating fusion tracks that appeal to both purists and modern listeners.
“Our goal isn’t to preserve it in a museum,” Faheem says. “We want to make it speak today’s language — through music videos, poetry, even hip-hop.”
Workshops and music collectives in Kashmir University, local cultural centres, and independent initiatives like ‘Saaz-e-Kashmir’ have also started offering training programmes and public performances. These efforts are not only reviving interest in the instrument, but also rebuilding pride in Kashmiri musical traditions.
The Makers Return
Interestingly, the revival is not just artistic — it’s artisanal too. Craftsmen like Bilal Ahmad Wani, whose family abandoned Rabab-making during the turmoil of the 1990s, are returning to the craft.
“Young musicians started coming to me, asking for custom Rababs,” Bilal says. “They wanted the old sound, but new shapes — carved with stories, with soul.”
Bilal now makes up to ten instruments a month and has even begun teaching his teenage son, hoping the trade doesn’t vanish again.
A Sound Reclaimed
For many, the Rabaab’s return signals more than a musical shift — it reflects a larger cultural reclamation in a region often spoken for but rarely heard from.
“To play the Rabaab today is a statement,” says Zoya Qadri, an ethnomusicologist researching indigenous Kashmiri instruments. “It says: We remember who we are.”
Despite minimal government support, the revival is sustained by sheer passion — a grassroots movement led by artists, educators, and elders who believe the Rabaab still has songs to sing.
In a time of fast content and fading traditions, the Rabaab is proving that some sounds don’t disappear — they simply wait to be rediscovered.
Sidebar: What is a Rabaab?
A lute-like string instrument, traditionally made of mulberry wood and goatskin.
Played with fingers (not a bow), producing deep, resonant tones.
Used in Afghan, Kashmiri, Punjabi, and Sufi music traditions.(DD)
